#respectfully they broke up for a reason

[dreamalongwithamy]

to the rinis who are still clinging to

‘Should’ve been rini if Olivia was still in the show’

Let’s be honest, I fear if Ricky had done half the things he did for Gina this season (aka, being the worlds biggest cheerleader to his girlfriend), Nini probably would’ve made several snide comments about feeling coddled by him.

[yuujispinkhair]

Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)

Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.

Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut Word Count: 7.5k Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos

Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.

He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.

If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.

Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.

He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.

He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.

You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.

He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.

You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).

You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,

"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."

And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,

"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."

He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.

Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.

Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.

Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.

You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.

Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.

It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.

But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.

And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.

He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.

You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,

"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"

His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,

"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."

You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,

"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."

"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"

"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."

You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,

"That sounds nice."

Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.

Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.

Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.

Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.

The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.

Sukuna grits his teeth.

You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.

He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,

"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"

Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.

Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.

He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.

It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,

"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."

And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.

Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.

And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,

"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."

You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.

You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.

You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.

"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."

And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,

"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."

And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.

Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.

He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.

Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.

Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.

You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.

He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.

But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.

No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.

He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,

"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."

Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,

"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."

You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.

Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.

He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.

"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."

And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.

Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.

The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.

When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.

Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.

How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?

Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.

He can't say those things, can he?

In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.

And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:

He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.

Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.

You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.

When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,

"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."

Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.

Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.

Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.

He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.

"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."

And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,

"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."

"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."

And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.

But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.

The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.

You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.

Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.

And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.

He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.

Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.

Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,

"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."

And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.

He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,

"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."

Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.

Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.

When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.

He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.

But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,

"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."

Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.

He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"

He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.

All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.

It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.

Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.

He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.

You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.

And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.

The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.

Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.

And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.

You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.

He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.

You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.

Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.

He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.

You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.

Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.

He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.

But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.

He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.

And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.

You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.

"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."

You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.

And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.

He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,

"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."

He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.

The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.

You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.

Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.

Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.

Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.

"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."

And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,

"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"

He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.

Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.

"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."

And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,

"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."

Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.

But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.

But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?

His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.

But things have changed, haven't they?

Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.

"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."

And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,

"Well, you are the exception, baby."

And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.

You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,

"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"

And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.

Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.

Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."

Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.

Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.

"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."

Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.

"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."

There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,

"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."

Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.

Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,

"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."

SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon 😭😭💗💗 I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)

I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too 💗

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.

And once again: Thank you Émilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!

[soobieedoo]

Formula of love ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ l.dh

Synopsis | Y/N is a diligent pharmacy student at NCityU. Ever since she was a kid her parents have instilled their high expectations on her. Therefore, Y/N has always had 4 goals, Get a degree, Get a good job, be financially stable, and absolutely in all circumstances stay away from distractions — including love of any sort.

During her freshman year of university her friends somehow convinced her to go on a dating app “for fun” where she meets Lee Donghyuck. She miraculously hit it off with him only to realize that he has made her focus falter and ultimately broke it off. Since then, she believes even more that love is a distraction that she cannot afford.

Lee Donghyuck — or better known as Haechan around campus, is a carefree, charming and fellow pharmacy student who also has a passion for music. He has recently transferred to NCityU to join their music program as he plans to pursuit both his passion for music and pharmaceuticals.

Y/N is working at the campus clinic. She has kept herself busy either through her studies or her job and is proud that she has eliminated all distractions…but wait, what is lee donghyuck aka said distraction doing in HER breakroom? and why is her heart beating like crazy?

PAIRINGS | pharmacy student! haechan x fem! pharmacy student reader

GENRE | social media au, some written, comedy, crack/humour, fluff, slow burn, college au, non-idol au, exes (ish) to strangers to lovers? pining but its mutual haechan is just more obvious, she's a little grumpy towards him, slight angst eventually?

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual jokes, kys/kms jokes, mentions of drugs and alcohol

| AUTHOR'S NOTE: hello hi! this is my very first smau! i had this idea pop up in my head and i've always enjoyed reading smau's and i thought i would take a crack at it! please note that this is a work of fiction and that this does not reflect the real lives of the idols involved! this is only for entertainment! i apologize if there may be inaccuracies with job descriptions and diff majors in uni. if u read this i hope u enjoy !

STATUS: ongoing! (started 09.07.24)

~ no specific update schedule! if not everyday then maybe every other day!

masterlist

profiles 1 + profiles 2

#1 - ice cream run

#2 - welcome home haechan

#3 - face to face

#4 - thank you choi beomgyu

#5 - strictly business

#6 - respectfully

#7 - failed disguise (written)

#8 - opening week

#9 - the music booth incident

#10 - we are not strangers

#11 - haechan’s mission

#11.5 - the first shift (written)

#12 - real talk

#13 - beomgyu and his croissants

#14 - we have “chemistry together” (written + smau)

#15 - no harm

#16 - sung hanbin the traitor

#17 - the performance (written)

#18 - y/n vs beomgyu

#19 - denial is a river in egypt ‼️

#20 - hypothetically…

#21 - a platonic study date

#22 - a deal made with the devil

#23 - free meal coupon

#24 - dreamie sleepover

#25 - y/n’s reason

#26 - the way to y/n’s heart

#27 - beomgyu cooking something up 👨🏻‍🍳

#28 - moral support (mostly written + smau)

#29 - y/n protectors

#30 - what are we celebrating?

#31 - forget about it?!

#32 - NOT a crush

#33 - who’s your crush?

#34 - sir haechan

[buggachat]

if show!lovesquare ever broke up, show!adrien would talk about marinette respectfully but with a distant, longing look in his eyes and then go home and lie in bed staring at the ceiling for hours with tears streaming down his face

if movie!lovesquare ever broke up, movie!adrien would talk to people like "lmao yeeaahh that bitch was craaazzzyy loool" and then go home and cry sob to the careless whisper sexy saxophone for some reason

[xoluvx]

sit on it (respectfully); b.eilish

part one

One night. Just one night is all you needed. Just to satisfy your hunger. She'd given you a taste, but you wanted the whole thing. Then you could go back to being friends and all would be well in the world.

One night of wild passionate sex wouldn't hurt, right?

Your bodies stumbled into her room. A room that'd just been so ordinary earlier that day but was now holy ground as your bodies pressed together moaning into each others' mouths. Billie played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on her hair.

"Take it off, take it off," you begged out of breath as if the fabric was burning your skin. You didn't want to waste time if it was only one night. There were only so many hours left to indulge.

Billie pulled your shirt off with equal desperation and watched as your breasts broke free. No bra.

No underwear and no bra. You were full of surprises.

At dinner, you hadn't even bothered to hide it. What'd just gone down a few hours ago was still on your mind; replaying like a broken record.

“What are you thinking about?” Billie had noticed your sudden silence. The way you picked at your food like you’d lost your appetite. You looked up catching her eyes in a knowing look. It wasn’t hard to guess what you were thinking about.

“Okay, but be honest. Respectfully-" she raised her brows. "-did you enjoy yourself?” Billie asked leaning in trying to lighten the mood. Her voice almost in a whisper. Her eyes shone, bottom lip tucked under her teeth waiting for your answer.

“Enjoy myself?” You asked cheekily trying to move past this conversation.

“Sitting on my cock,” she whispered not bothering to look around and see if someone could hear.

“Stop calling it your cock,” you rolled your eyes remembering the way she’d asked you to cum on it earlier and that comment alone was part of the reason you came in the first place.

“What? I bought it, it’s mine,” Billie’s eyes widened before grinning.

“And I’ll take that as a yes,” her hand touched yours when she reached for a fry on your plate. You swallowed watching her closely. Her lips wrapping around the salty potato. Did she have to make everything so sexual or had she always been this way?

It was most definitely the latter recalling the way she’s jerked off the dildo feigning a moan that sounded very much like the ones she released when you were riding her.

Billie sat closer. Your bodies almost huddled in the large booth like you were exchanging secrets. But the only secret you had was that you'd rode your best friend and wanted to do it again.

Her hand found its way to your thigh naturally. Your legs were crossed and you were a mess. She glanced at you with an 'is this okay?' look and your eyes said it all. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Her hand inched further up your thigh until she felt your pussy. You weren't wearing underwear. She hadn't seen you slip them off in her room.

Then she moved hand from your thigh, leaving you in utter confusion.

But right now there was nothing confusing about the way she looked at your body. You knew she wanted to eat you alive and you'd agreed on making this a night to indulge.

"Fuck. Me." Billie's voice was low as she drooled at the sight of your breasts. They were so perfect and welcoming. She held your hips staring. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders coming close to her ear.

"I plan to," you whispered, your voice sultry as your tongue ran up her neck. A new found confidence sparked within.

"Ugh," Billie moaned furrowing your brows like she'd just bust in her underwear. She very well could have from that comment alone. Wild thoughts ran through her mind and she pictured all the ways she could fuck you in the hours to come.

Your tongue was wet along her jaw finding your way to her lips. There was something so taboo and sacred about this moment. Your tongues wrestling for dominance, your lips touching, your hands roaming each others' bodies. Billie tugged at your skirt and you helped her slide it off rapidly.

You were completely naked in the arms of your best friend and somehow you were okay with that.

"You're wearing too much clothes," you whispered against her lips as her hands touched every place possible.

"Take it off then," she challenged stepping away from you. She glanced up and down drinking you in. You felt hot and flushed and desperate. The way she was biting her lip waiting patiently for you to strip her was so fucking hot and you had one night to savor it. To drown in it.

You never broke eye contact. You touched the bottom of her shirt. Your fingers curled around the fabric tugging at it. She lifted her arms and you pulled the shirt over her head, her hair getting messy in the process and oh my god it was possible for her to be hotter.

The eye contact was broken when your eyes lingered on her breasts. They looked so delicious in the lacy red fabric, her skin peeking through the sheer material.

You dropped her shirt heading for her jeans; the new pair of jeans she'd put on because you'd totally ruined the last pair. Your fingers toyed with the buckle of her belt until your hands were unbuttoning her pants.

"Wow. Matching set. Did you plan this?" you teased looking at the tiny pair of underwear before meeting her gaze. There was a glint in her eye and a cocky smile on her lips. But she felt so much smaller stripped down to tiny fabric. Unlike you. You were taking control and you felt bold.

You wrapped your arms around her neck, your fingers tangling in her hair pulling on it gently urging her to moan. Her lips parted as she looked at yours hungrily. You kissed her as she pushed your body back towards the bed.

When the back of your legs hit the mattress she held you tight making sure you didn’t injure yourself on the way down. Her thigh pressed between your thighs sinking the mattress as she hovered over you, lips still connecting passionately. You felt her hand rustling on the bed until she pulled away.

“Should I wash it?” She asked holding the strap recalling what happened earlier.

“No, god Billie just fuck me please,” you begged fisting the sheets. Billie had never heard this side of you. Not only were you yearning and whiny, but you’d asserted yourself in the same way she had earlier that night. The roles switched.

She swallowed before nodding, strapping the harness to her body. She was at a lost for words, her previous cocky demeanor shattered by your desperation.

Your gaze was intimidating as you held your body up with your elbows, your feet planted on the bed, legs slightly open.

“Take that off,” you exclaimed motioning towards her bra. Billie unhooked it letting her breasts break free. They really were a sight. You bit your lip as she approached you. Thigh between your legs again, hand on your jaw kissing you softly as your hand dragged up the side of her body.

Then she positioned herself between your legs while running a hand along the inside of your thigh until her index finger touched your pussy. You shivered as she slid it between your folds. You were soaked and ready. She grabbed the dildo, mimicking the movements of her finger and running it between your folds. You tossed your head back still propped on your elbows in anticipation.

The she broke through your walls so fucking slow you were holding your breath and felt lightheaded by the time she bottomed out.

“Fuck,” you cursed opening your eyes, your lips resting in a perfect ‘o’. She couldn't help but picture all the filthy things she could do that mouth as she started thrusting her hips. Your tits bounced in sync following the motion. Your whimpers and whines were driving her crazy and pushing her into overdrive.

She had thought watching you ride her cock was spellbinding...she was wrong. This new position was one of wildest dreams. The way you scrunched your face raising your arms above your head writhing under her spell, fingers curling around cool fabric. You were chanting her name and she'd never heard it sound more sexy. You were under her control entirely.

She held the back of you legs thrusting her hips at a pace you couldn't fathom. She was hitting all the perfect spots, you were choking on your words, your chest rising and falling rapidly trying to catch your breath. Her skin slapped yours with each thrust and you reached out to hold her neck as she leaned down fucking you senseless. Your foreheads pressed together never breaking eye contact.

Your mouth hung open and she licked her lips before kissing you hungrily. You whimpered into her mouth as she hit your g spot, body bouncing as she concentrated on your impending orgasm. You stopped kissing her when you felt the familiar tingling and tightness. Your lips touched sloppily, breaths mixing as you shut your eyes.

"I'm gonna-" you moaned in her mouth as she grunted and nodded. Silently pleading. It seemed like she was the one under your control after all. All she wanted was for you to cum on her cock again and again and again.

She watched you unravel under her body as her thrusts slowed. Long and rough, fingers digging into your tingling skin.

You tried hard to catch your breath as she rolled off of you. You smiled and laughed because she’d just made you cum. Again. In one day. Your best friend did that.

You glanced at her, she was staring at you. Then you followed her gaze down to the dildo lathered with your arousal.

“Can you-“ Billie cleared her throat, her hand held the fake cock like she could actually feel it. Like it was a part of her. Like it was throbbing from being wrapped up in your tight pussy.

“Can I what?” You asked cheekily turning to the side getting a full view of her. Her face turned red. It was clear she was in the palm of your hands, but you’d still do anything she asked.

“Suck on it,” she spat out making eye contact. She was flushed and her hair was sticking to the back of her neck. Her forehead glistened and her lips were plump and red. She looked so scrumptious.

She had pictured herself doing unspeakable things to your mouth earlier and she only had one night to try it.

You swallowed, but your body slid off the bed before planting yourself on the floor, it was cold against your knees. Your hand wrapped around the cock brushing hers as you maintained eye contact. She kept her hand at the base waiting. Your tongue brushed the tip still staring at her. She was biting her lip. Then your lips wrapped around the tip as she watched you carefully.

When you finally took the dildo in your mouth she groaned feeling your lips on her hand. You released a guttural moan when she instinctively raised her hips.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” She asked and you blinked. Again, you were putty in her hands and you'd do anything she asked.

You nodded watching her stand. She positioned herself in front of your face and touched the corner of your mouth brushing your skin with her thumb. Then she ran it along your bottom lip opening your mouth as she held the cock sliding it between your lips. Little by little, her hand firm. Your eyes full.

You took it all in and let out a moan when she hit the back of your throat. She pulled out quickly holding the back of your head before repeating the motion. This time, she thrusted steadily and your fingers wrapped around her skin holding her thighs as she fucked your mouth.

The thrusts grew faster and faster as Billie groaned and you gurgled the cock. She could only imagine what she’d really feel if it was real, but the sight of you beneath her was enough to make her pussy throb. She cradled your head as she pulled out. She drank in the image, your eyes were watering, your mascara clumping and coating your bottom lashes. She had never seen something more beautiful.

Billie caressed your cheek, as you fought to catch your breath. You leaned your head into her touch silently still on your knees until she reached for your hand helping you up. Her arm wrapped around your waist, hand on your jaw as she kissed your lips. You held on to her arms, your legs adjusting to being on your feet as you indulged in the slow kiss.

She pulled away, your noses brushing.

"One more thing," her voice low and raspy. You blinked looking at her patiently.

“Sit on it, respectfully” she whispered staring at your mouth as she tugged at your bottom lip with her thumb. She felt like she’d been asking for too much all night.

Fuck. You'd done more than you ever thought you would with her. Each thing better than the last and the way she was looking at you was driving you mad and she was touching your lip and squeezing your ass and fuck yeah you were going to sit on it.

You were going to sit on it, bounce on it, freak on it so very disrespectfully.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Possession

klaus mikaelson works other tvd works masterlist

Summary -> klaus hates watching you talk with another man, even if it is his brother. and it his duty as the man that owns you to remind you of whom you belong to (1.4k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, possessiveness, some toxicity, jealousy, brief mentions of death and turning, crying

Venom was poised on Klaus’ tongue as he watched his beloved, glaring daggers at her form as she watched Y/N laugh at something dismal that one of his brothers had said. She was supposed to remember that she belonged to him, she was his mere little human that was his own personal slave for affection.

He sat there, nostrils flaring, as he sipped out of the rich flute, placing it upon the side table before he hauled himself to his feet, stalking toward his girl. She was his, and she wasn’t allowed to forget that, he didn’t care if she was just being friendly, any niceties were reserved for him alone. Elijah sensed the homicidal distress radiating from his sibling, and chose it best to remain by Y/N’s side as Niklaus reached them. “Brother.” He greeted him, bowing his head respectively at the younger one of their family.

Despite the politeness, Klaus wished to scorn the smile that Elijah had caused from Y/N’s face; he had grown more possessive since becoming a hybrid and unlocking his werewolf side. “Get away from my woman, now.” He spoke slowly, reaching towards Y/N and dragging her into his arms as she gently shook. “It’s okay love, I’m here now. Cling to me all you want.”

And she did, her hands balling up the fabric of his shirt as her face rested lowly on his chest, remaining silent as Klaus forbade his brother from sharing the presence of them both in his art room. Because she was his little masterpiece that he had trained to mould around himself, he raised her chin so she was forced to look up at him, their eyes strongly meeting. Y/N knew that she would be in trouble if she broke the visual contact, she had to obey him, he was the one that controlled this relationship, and most times than not her too.

“You belong to me, do you understand that Y/N?” His interrogative enquiry made her physically gulp, but respectfully she nodded at the Original, allowing him to cradle her jaw in his powerful hands until they drifted down her neck, posing a little pressure to the area. “That’s my good girl.” He praised her, which made her utter an almost inaudible whimper, that made him smirk to himself. Oh, how he should have made Elijah stay so that he could witness how she folded under his demeanour, and how she knew that she was all his.

“Klaus.”

“That’s right, I want that to be the only name that every slips out from your pretty mouth.” He responded, leading her backwards until her back hit a wet canvas, the stroke of his artistic touch adorning the back of her clothing. “Can you do that love, can you only say my name for all eternity.” He still had yet to turn her, he was waiting until they were both ready for that level of commitment, but for now he was content looming above her, blocking her shadow from the eyes of anyone else.

“Yes. Of course, it shan’t be a problem.” He allowed her hands to trail up upon his shoulders, he walked his stature farther into her, trapping her against the material of the splattered canvas. “That’s my girl.” He smiled adoringly at her, meeting her lips lightly with his own before his actions escalated, and he grew hungrier for her touch. His tongue swept within her gasping mouth, holding her still so that he could execute his calculated attack.

Without need of any compliance from his little object, he raised her dress over her head, finding her completely nude underneath, just the way that he liked her to be. And perhaps that was a reason of many as to why he was startled by the sight of her and Elijah harmlessly conversing. He knew that whenever he wanted, her body was conveniently always prepared for him to take her as he pleased, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

Klaus tossed off his long sleeved shirt, exploiting his exterior to his girl who could only trail her hand down his toned stomach, but he grasped her wrist, shoving it away as he continued to strip down to his birthday suit. And now they were both undressed and ready for what he wanted, Y/N moaned surprised yet not by how he effortlessly hoisted her into his arms, and swooned her body against the wall beside them, his fingertips slipping down and down until they were teasing at her wet entrance.

They easily glided into Y/N’s walls, probing her insides with his long digits, two precisely, as he rested his nose into the crook of her neck, smelling how her blood boiled with arousal and finding it relaxing at how her pulse harshly raised from the contact he granted her with. “Look at how ready your body always is for me, it’s like you were made for me. My pretty little thing.” His words did something to Y/N, made her insides twist as he supplied her with the most sufficient way that he could show her his love.

A whine tore out from Y/N’s throat as he respectfully removed his fingers, leaving her feel empty and dismal in his predator like grasp. However the emptiness was soon filled as he pushed his cock into her cunt, stretching her until she felt perfectly full. It must have been some sick joke, he thought to himself and hid his deviant chuckle in the rasp of a groan; it was really as though his mother had endured she was born into the world in the time he needed her most. He was all he wanted, and it was his duty to ensure that Y/N felt the same way about him.

If she didn’t then there would be nothing to stop all hell from breaking loose, sincerely by the hybrid of course. But he was convinced he had nothing to worry about considering the present as he fucked her without an inkling of guilt or compassion for the fact that one day he would make her like him. “Klaus, holy fuck.” Her head collided back into the wall, no doubt giving her an ache within her head, but he only found it that much more attractive as she became significantly more dazed from the hit on her noggin and the strength behind his starved thrusts.

“Hardly holy.” Klaus corrected her, he was the deepest sin that she had ever committed, and ever would. She was wrapped around him like a shawl, clinging onto dear life until she allowed him to take the humanity of it away. She passionately kissed his neck, biting it as though she was growing her vampiric appetite before she actually turned. “Though your cunt feels like heaven.” He muttered, smirking as he thought that nobody would every see her in this state. This was his Y/N, the goddess of his greediest desires, and he would never allow her to slip away.

“Can I cum, Klaus, please?” There were tears of diamond stimulation in Y/N’s gorgeous eyes, it was as though she was compelled by his swift and jarring movements, pleading for his permission to let her release the sparking build up that was daring to explode within her body. “Please, please, please. Want to cum all over your perfect cock.” Oh did she now? Well that was no surprise, it never was, and she always held it together until he allowed her to release, as she knew the consequences if she didn’t. It wasn’t her orgasm, it belonged to him, and she wasn’t allowed it unless he granted her the lustful wish that was laced elegantly in her mind.

“Cum for me Y/N, I want to feel you cum all over me love.” Not even an instant passed and he felt her walls contract gratefully around him, washing her everlasting attraction for the man that owned her onto his length. Once she had finished her orgasmic bliss, he only fucked her harder, causing tears to dribble from her eyes, not stopping until he filled her to the hilt and emptied his cum deep within her. And although they had both finished he refused to put Y/N down, he just wanted to hold her, in this haven alone, sweetly stroking her hair as he thought that he was the luckiest man undead. He had her, and she was all his.

[vasiktomis]

Reverse Psychology (Reigen Arataka x GN!Reader, 18+)

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~2400. Tags/Warnings: No use of Reader pronouns. Negging. Office Sex. Pining. Service Submission. Confessions. Doggy-style. Creampie. (and it isn't a vasiktomis work without) Premature Ejaculation. Consensual Non-Consent. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“I’d had my suspicions, but I didn’t — ah — realise you were this into me.”

He’s such a loser, you think, gasping as he gracelessly gropes and grabs at your waist, your hips, your thighs. He’s such a scumbag. You want to bash his skull in. He’s adorable.

You won’t lie; you know he’s overestimating your infatuation with him. You’re sure he doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying — it’d just be mighty convenient for him if you believed it. Even when he’s got you pinned to the wall, body flush against yours, panting into your neck while he tries to recover from getting too lost in feverish kisses, he can’t drop a con when the opportunity presents itself.

Lucky for you, you know him too well to feel hurt over it, let alone fall for it. It’s always been like this between the two of you; Reigen, in all his arrogance, negging the shit out of you for as long as you’ve known him. Baiting you into seeking his approval, his attraction, when all he does behind your back is stare. You’d been wise to it from week one, but you hadn’t realised how bad he had it until you’d paid him to house-sit while you were on vacation with friends last year. When you’d come home to respectfully watered houseplants and a hamper full of underwear that weren’t crusted with cum and shamefully shoved to the bottom of the basket when you’d left it.

You’ve known as long as he has that he’s wanted you, but its just too fun, watching him make a fool of himself while he’s trying to bait you into throwing yourself at him.

It’s the little things that beckon your attention, and he probably hates that. The sincerity and care that creep out of the cracks when his apprentices arrive in a less than stellar mood. The underlying consideration he puts into not giving a shit about you. He’d never buy you dinner, no fucking way, but he sure has a running list of all your favourite foods specifically so he can have you pressure him into sharing a cold mouthful after an unnecessarily long monologue about fending for yourself.

He broke first. You knew he would. Finally, after all this time gloating about girlfriends that don’t exist and shoving unwarranted dating advice at you, he gave in. At the most boring moment too — not even during a fight or while one of you were inconsolably crying. You’d just gotten too close on your way past when you were leaving the agency for the day, and he just broke.

It must be a blow, after all that work he put into the facade. You’d heard the resigned sound in his throat when he’d rounded on you, hands finding your shoulders, kissing you open-mouthed before you’d even had a chance to kiss back. It just wouldn’t be like him to let that image slide.

He’s bolstering his ego with all this dominance, and you’re happy to let him. If you’re honest, you kind of like it; letting him believe he’s fooling you. He’s taking charge, but the power’s all yours. It’s your decision to call him out whenever you like, and if he wants to spend the first shot he’s had at you lying, it feels only reasonable to make him work for it.

You give him nothing. A blank canvas to project onto and a tongue in his mouth in lieu of something he might be able to hold against you later.

It's perfect. He pulls back, delighted.

“God, I knew it. You don’t even try to hide it.” Reigen mutters, frantically tugging at buttons and fabric to shift his attention to your chest. The kisses he smears on your clavicle, your sternum, over the swell of your tits, are hurried and sloppy, already not quite living up to how cool he’s trying to play this. “I bet you’re already ready for it.”

Bad performer’s trick: rush you through to the sex so you never have to find out he’s terrible at foreplay. Or, maybe he’s concerned he can’t hold his nut long enough.

God, he must be terrified beneath that facade.

You just have to fuck him.

You reach down, fumbling with his belt, and he gasps, at least before he squashes the sound into an elated little laugh. “You don’t have to go so fast.”

And there’s the gaslighting.

You don’t slow, but he’s parted from you enough to give you the space to do what you need to do, unbuckling and unbuttoning and unzipping, all while keeping your eyes on his. You watch his expression cloud with something little less controlled. More sincere. Boyish. Then, you take your hands away, and his throat bobs. Nervous. He’s sweet, under it all. And so, so scared of showing it.

It’s a shame.

Maybe if you do this a few more times you could coax it out of him.

“You’re not gonna make me beg, are you Arataka?” You purr, watching a bead of sweat form and slip on his brow in the time it takes for you to be forward enough to call him by his first name. “After keeping me waiting this long?”

“H-how long?” Reigen chokes, barely audible. Then, he clears his throat. A second try, peppered with a cocky little smile. “How long.” He dips his face back into the crook of your neck, resuming his assault, picking a wise time to hide his face.

Your hand slips down the front of his pants, palming him through the fabric of his underwear, and his whole body jolts. “You tell me.”

It’s like he can’t get close enough, anchoring himself to you. He fumbles to reach you the same way, but the position is already awkward standing this close. Momentarily, he’s at your mercy. “I don’t know. A little above average? I’m not the kind of insecure guy who needs to brag about that kind of thing.”

He’s so full of shit.

You guide his cock out of his underwear. Nothing to be very impressed by. Below average, if you’re honest. Not particularly girthy, either, but there’s a pleasant upward bend you’re sure you could have fun with. A slick pearl of pre-cum forms on the slit when your thumb traces up his already tugging foreskin. He was ready to go before you even started touching him.

Who are you to deny yourself the enjoyment of watching him embarrass himself?

You take his hand, and he watches, transfixed as you spit into his palm before turning yourself to face the wall.

“That’s-...really gross. You should probably ask people before you do that sort of thing.” There’s a shudder in his voice as he chides you. A slick sound and a hollow inhale as he works your saliva over his cock. You ignore him. The quaver in his breath gives his excitement away, and you help shove down your pants just enough to grant him access.

Reigen struggles, of course he struggles to line himself up at first. He takes a moment to tilt his hips the right way, to tug at yours. When he sinks into you, it’s all the way, fingers bunching your shirt to push just a little further. Just to make a point of it.

He pauses like that, holding his breath, one hand cupped over his mouth as he cranes over your shoulder. Savouring the feeling as much as you are, you assume — at least before you feel his cock throb inside you, and his whole body goes stiff. A choked gasp almost makes it past Reigen’s palm, diaphragm quaking against your back.

He’s absolutely coming, and if you weren’t too proud you’d admit, the angle of his acceptable cock throbbing against one particular bundle of nerves almost has you dizzy yourself. Utter fluke. It has to be.

Reigen’s body slackens a little. The orgasm passes. In your periphery, just over your shoulder, he looks downright horrified.

“Did you just-“

“What? No.”

The mask is back on in an instant. Reigen’s hand joins the other at your hips. He pulls out halfway. Sinks back in. The slide is thick. Gathering around your entrance, smearing the crux of your thighs. God, even his balls are wet against your ass. Just how much did he nut?

It’s -…kind of hot.

“Are you used to your partners not lasting?” He asks. You look down, tempted to see if he’s managed to make a mess of your underwear, and the bastard’s fingers snap to your jaw, angling your face back up for a kiss. He’s desperate for you not to know. Fine. You’ll play along. “Eyes up.” He breathes against your lips, punctuating with a thrust before he settles into a rhythm in you. It’s adorable, the dominant act. You can’t wait to smush him like a bug. “I asked you a question.”

“Arataka.” You attempt, shocked to find yourself choking on the word as he keeps going, wise enough to know not to stray once he’s found a spot that you respond well to. “Fuck, I-“

“It’s okay, I know.”

Something awful and delicious shakes through you. That shouldn’t have had such an effect on you as it does. What’s this guy’s deal?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a damn clue. But he really goes the extra mile to convince you otherwise.

“You should — touch yourself.” Reigen grunts into your hair. “I don’t plan on finishing until you do.”

You wonder if that’s Reigen-talk for ’oh fuck I’m gonna blow again’. You wonder if you should take your time, just so you can find out.

Oh, but why would you ruin his good time? It doesn’t help that the idea of coming with him in you is a pretty enough thought that you’re doing what he tells you.

With only one free arm to cushion you against the wall while Reigen ruts into you, you manage to find enough space for the other to see to your own needs.

It’s humiliating, the sound that escapes you when your touch compliments his own. He must feel the same way when his breath hitches in-kind, groaning at the feeling of your own pleasure clenching around his cock.

“Keep talking.” You manage, burying your own face into the back of your hand. He’s too close. He’ll hear how much you’re actually enjoying this. He’ll see it on your face. “Keep talking to me, Arataka.”

“Fuck—“

Oh, of course he liked hearing that.

“I — I can’t —“ His words diminish to a whisper you’re not even sure you were supposed to hear. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do  all this to you.”

You can’t, either. And yet, here you are. Raising onto your tippy-toes, rolling your hips back to angle him deeper as if his balls aren’t already swiping you with each thrust. Big mistake, you realise. His cock drags against something that has you shuddering, hurtling toward your own end. There’s no helping it. No helping you. Not when Reigen’s arm coils around your waist, pulling you so close that you can’t chase his movements anymore. The other locks over your chest in a desperate embrace. He’s barely pulling out before he’s ramming back into you now, nearly folded over you at this point. Something drapes against your shoulder, and god help you, you surrender your bracing arm to grab at it, letting your face squish against the wall without anything to cushion it.

Your fingers wrap tight around that stupid tie, keeping his chin hooked over your shoulder. A yelp slips out of him. A new pitch. Your core burns from the awkward posture, from exertion, from the delight of having him come so undone by you despite all his efforts.

It’s —

“I’m close.” You pant. “I’m close — I”m so close—“

His grip on you is suffocating. Fingers wrench at your shirt.

Reigen lets out something akin to a sob. “God, please — I’m so fucking crazy about you. Please, come, please, please—“

It hits you without mercy, tearing through you with a helpless whine. Were it not for being sandwiched right now, your trembling legs would give out beneath you. Instead, you’re held in place by Reigen’s desperate little ruts, unwittingly drawing your orgasm out each time his cock hits that spot again, muscles chasing the motions. Constricting around him, spurring him on.

You’re shaking when it passes, paled thoughts only brought back to coherency by the increasing pitch of Reigen’s breaths. Mouthed words evolve into a barely comprehensible muttering of ’oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit—‘ before he’s finally aware he has the green light.

“Where?” He pants, “Where do you want it? Can I finish inside?”

Is this guy for real?

You can’t even form a response. You’re too busy drooling against the wall, face smearing against the wet spot with every thrust.

Reigen seems to take no news as good news. As if he ever had a choice. The pitch in his breath reaches a crescendo, and with your last rational thought, your last ounce of strength, you yank his tie, hard. His posture curls around yours, clinging to you with a delectable sound. His cock throbs again, and your face squishes into the wall even more as Reigen’s own legs tremble, forcing him to brace his weight forward as he empties himself into you.

For a while, he catches his breath, still holding you to him. You feel his lips ghost over the back of your neck like he’s considering a kiss — but suddenly he finds it too bold a move. He shakily steps back, and all of a sudden he’s folded onto his knees with a tired grunt.

Left without your counterweight, you sink to the floor with him, leaving a snail-trail of saliva in your wake as you slide down the wall and settle down. Weakly, you flip onto your ass, still too dazed to bother with the clean-up just yet.

Across from you, Reigen gingerly feels through his jacket pocket. "Great. My pants are ruined. You wanna go halves at the coin laundry?" The sweat stains in his armpits almost reach his waist, and his business shirt is so damp it's near-translucent. He can’t take his eyes off the cum that seeps out of you, onto the floor.

“That was a lot.” He comments, clearing his throat. He finds that cigarette and tucks the box away without offering you one. “Wouldn’t be surprised if that was like, two loads worth.”

You squint at him. “Man, would you shut the fuck up?”

[sugarlywhispers]

ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya).

☆–a.n; so here it is! a continuation to THIS DRABBLE. i honestly didn't plan it, but @imaginationmess started brainstorming with me about this a few weeks ago and i couldn't get it out my head! thank you, sweets💕 i hope you like this, even tho i still owe you that villain!bakugou drabble~🙃 i'll work on it soon, i promise~

☆–a.n; also, i decided to split it in several parts. i don't know tho how many parts there will be. i have at least two more parts already written. we will see...😉 don't worry, each link to the parts will be organized in my masterlist♡

The noise around makes you a bit jumpy. It's been weeks since you've been out of your apartment since that day you finally broke down in front of your best friend Mineta Minoru, after Kats-Bakugou finally picked his stuff out of your home.

You're sitting in a little coffee shop close to where you live, waiting. The chattering, the laughs, the kids playing and screaming, the cars and buses that drive outside, everything feels heavy on your chest as it pulls up and down fastly thanks to your breathing. You know what this is, it's not the first time it happened.

Panic attacks. 

You've been having them again since he left.

And you hate them. You hate him for being the reason they appeared again. The first time it happened Mineta had finally convinced you to go out and have some ramen with him late at night after his shift. You accepted, even though you felt your body weak and heavy, only wanting to stay in bed and keep sleeping. Least to say, it ended with Mineta carrying you in his arms, your body trembling non-stop and feeling like you were choking, dying.

But right now, Mineta is not here. And you can feel your throat being closed, like someone was grabbing you by your neck with each breath you take and slowly but firmly putting pressure, until you could breathe no more.

And just when it's about to happen, when you know you're about to make a scene in front of all these people, when the darkness is making its presence in your sight, that he enters the coffee shop.

You don't know why but seeing Midoriya Izuku after so many weeks since you told him the truth, seeing him stand there at the door, a black hoodie that says "HOODIE" in the front and jeans and his typical red trainers as he scans the whole place until his green eyes find yours and smiles openly at you, seeing him walk towards you and getting bigger with each step he takes in your direction –was he ever that big and tall?–, seeing him say "hi" politely to some people who recognized the Number One Pro Hero under the hoodie as he walks inside the place. 

Just seeing him… it takes the pressure off your neck. You can breathe again.

"Hi, Y/N, sorry I'm a bit late," he greets with a shiny smile as he sits in front of you. "I had to finish some paperwork from the night patrol."

You open your eyes wide, "Y-you-" your voice sounds throaty and rough, so you clear your throat. He frowns, watching your neck, but he respectfully waits for you to continue, eyes back on yours, watching you with kindness. "You had night patrol? If I knew, I wouldn't have bothered‐…"

"Oh, no! You didn't bother me at all! You're never a bother, Y/N." His smile is radiant, it's been so long since you had seen someone smile that way in your direction. You feel bad for Mineta. When was the last time he had smiled in your presence? A real, genuine smile. You forgot. "I was hoping you got my message and that you would answer, on your time. But you did answer." You look down, you think his smiles will make you go blind because of its shine.

It was two weeks ago–or three?, you feel like you lost track of time, being on your bed and only getting up when Mineta forced his way into your apartment to make you eat or shower. It's been a while since Midoriya left that message to go grab coffee together. And he had been waiting, and you just now answered.

"I'm sorry… I needed…"

"Time, I know. Me too. It took me a while to process everything. I didn't want to get up off my bed, I barely ate… We both needed time."

You look up at him again and you see him swallow thick, like it's difficult for him to talk about it. And you get it. Fuck, thinking about it only makes you want to cry again. You get it. So you pull one of your hands that were grabbing the cloth of your pants tightly in order to help ground yourself a few moments ago when the panic attack was almost on the surface, and grab his that is laying on the table in front that separates you both.

He looks at it for a moment, your thumb caressing the scars on his hand like it's nothing, and when he looks back up, you try to smile reassuringly.

Everything is going to be okay. You are going to be okay, that's what Mineta tells you every day he goes to check on you. You started to believe he says that aloud to reassure himself more than you, seeing how you didn't have the force to even feed yourself some days and he had to do it. It took you a few days ago, when you tried to reach your phone, you had to get up from the bed and when you did, your legs gave up, making you fall straight to the floor, hitting your chin so hard you think you bit your own tongue as you tasted blood in your mouth. How was this you? Did he really have so much power over you that turned you into this corpse that couldn't even get up to reach the damn phone? Fuck no. You decided it was enough. You decided you were going to be okay.

You know your smile it's not the prettiest or most comforting at the moment, but you try. You try for Midoriya, before saying, "We are going to be okay."

His eyes fill with tears, so visible it makes you want to hold him, protect him–and he's freaking Hero Deku, the most powerful hero on Earth and the Symbol of Hope for humankind. Yet, you can't avoid feeling. Feeling that he doesn't deserve anything that happened. Feeling that he deserves so much happiness and kindness, and he hasn't had that in a long while apparently. It's frustrating watching him break, even this little as he doesn't let the tears escape his eyes and smiles back at you.

Two hours pass and Midoriya and you are still in that coffee shop, chatting animatedly, laughing even. Remembering old times, talking about the present and the future, and about the friends that connected you both.

It feels like… a rush of fresh, cold wind after a hot and humid summer day. You have been so used to the hot, the fire, you forgot that cool, fresh relief existed.

Your phone starts ringing in your little bag and you search it as Midoriya laughs at something you said about Mineta.

"And it doesn't end there…"

"Oh my God, it doesn't? What else could Mineta have done to Bakugou? I understand now why Shoto had to be called in to assist him. Mineta was faking stuff so he wouldn't help him… Genius." You see the tears at the corner of his eyes, but this time they are from laughing. And you find yourself thinking you like that better than the previous tears.

You shake your head, smiling, "He started leaving his purple sticky balls under Bakugou's car wheels." That's it. Midoriya laughs so hard it makes everyone look in your direction. But you don't mind, for the first time in a long while, you don't mind people's attention on you. Midoriya's there. And he's laughing. He is laughing. 

Life seems a bit brighter.

You pick up the call without really looking who it is. "Hello?" You talk in between laughs.

"Y/N? Oh, where… Where are you? I came to the apartment and freaked out when I couldn't find you!" Mineta says, a bit agitated. But you can't avoid laughing again given that the person you were just talking about with Midoriya called you, it is such a funny timing. You signal with a finger to your phone looking at Midoriya and word 'Mineta', which makes him laugh even harder. Midoriya understood the funny timing too. "Are those laughs? Are you laughing?!"

"Sorry… Yes. I'm with Midoriya. We came to grab a coffee."

You can hear Mineta's surprise, you can even picture his eyebrows pulling up high. "Midoriya? As in… Midoriya Izuku?"

"Yes, love, Midoriya Izuku." That makes the green-headed man in front of you shut a bit and look down at his hands. Weird.

"Ow, you haven't called me love in a while… I'm gonna cry," you roll your eyes at your best friend's dramatics.

"Shut up. Do you need something? I'll be back in a bit."

"Oh, no, bun. I just came to bring you lunch and then I have to sign in. I'll probably be on shift until late at night so I made sure I cooked enough so you have leftovers for dinner too."

You smile. Your heart feels warm, and you can't help but think you have one hell of a best friend.

"I love you."

"Oh, I'm definitely crying now."

You chuckle, "Take care today, okay?"

"Always am, bun. Have fun with Midoriya, but I can already tell you are..." You can hear the suggestive tone, and you want to punch him.

"Shut up."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Bye."

You end the call and look at Midoriya. He's not smiling anymore, just looking at his hands. His fingers fidgeting with each other, his mind clearly in thought.

"Sorry, I didn't tell Mineta where I was going today. He was worried…"

"Oh, yeah, no problem."

It sounds like there is, so you try to dissipate the tension you don't know what produced it.

"You want to know what else Mineta did?"

Midoriya looks up, eyes open wide, smile returning to his face, "There's more?!"

You nod, also smiling. "He once even left them inside the car, messing up with the engine."

"Oh my God! That's why Bakugou asked for another hero to assist him from now on!" Midoriya laughs again. You shake your head and he stops mid-laugh. "That's… It's not? Then what-...?"

"Do you really want to know?" You raise an eyebrow, sounding cheeky and challenging.

His stance changes, you see a spark in his eyes you have never seen before. He smirks and rests his elbows over the table and gets closer to you, his eyes connected to yours, as he murmurs almost in a low tone whisper, "Tell me."

You can feel your cheeks warmer under his gaze, but find the courage to copy his action and get closer to him, even closer to his ear to whisper in a secret.

"Mineta left cockroaches on the copilot seat, for when Uraraka entered the car."

You back away a bit to look at his face. He looks completely surprised, before throwing his head back and laughing so so hard, completely forgetting they are in a public space.

You laugh too, but because he is laughing so lively. You decide then that you'll try that more. Make him laugh.

[idv-sunsxin3]

Rody Lamoree // Random Dating HCs

{Dead Plate and characters belong to Studio Investigrave}

Note// He is like, 80% my type... I love him, though, dhdbdb I guess it's gn for s/o. I'm kinda a straight girl (who loves bl and yuri---), so sorry if I sound too straight./ih

•He is clingy, extremely affectionate, and touch starved... Relationships didn't end well with him because of that. But you managed to soften that by giving him plenty of love and attention when you both make time for each other. You can't say no to his puppy eyes;;;

•Can't cook for his life, is either you teach him how to cook or you both order takeout. If you do decide to teach him, he might fail miserably once in a while like injuring himself somehow or burn water--- he'll feel so bad that he is the reason you're carrying burden through the process but he'll sob more once he notices how patient, caring, and supportive you are while guiding him...

Rody// *sobs while looking at Y/N as if they're god*

Y/N // you okay there, babe?

•He'll die peacefully when he gets called pretty boy, Honey, hunny bunny, puppy, darling- no matter how cheesy or weirdly cute, it is Honey, him feel so giddy amazing 🥺✨️

•He is canonly buff and strong, so I can't help but imagine he is more than happy to carry you around on his shoulder or in bridal style to the point you don't even need to walk at all when he's with you/ih

•He'll compliment you a lot. He is your #1 fan. He'll quickly notice the changes in your appearance in one glance.

•New Haircut? Worshipping you right now. You wore something new? He'll take pictures of you in different angles, including selfies of both of you - red carpet material. You did your nails? Oh god, slay... Oh, what's this? A keychain you bought? That is so cool. He'll be so dramatic about it that it's so funny;😭

•Like man-- he's so supportive. Overwhelmingly supportive. He won't deny anything you decide and just support you till the end-- Like he's too in love to even care. He wouldn't even help but smush your cheeks together and say, "WTH WHY ARE YOU SO PRETTY AUGHHH;;;" (thx to the sketch Rachel made;;;)

•He'll usually respond to you whenever you text him - or even as soon as possible to respond back through letters. He always loves your voice, so there would be times he asks if you can call each other. Having him lean to the side of the wall as he is blushing by the soft whispering in his ear you make through the phone.

•He'll do all his power to spoil you with gifts and expensive dates despite being broke. He'll go the extra mile to always do something so special in your anniversaries.

•Even in Valentine's Day, to the point he may forget to treat himself... you gotta remind him that his birthday is your pride and joy. Like, it's the day god blessed you for letting a beautiful being like him spawn/lh

•HEAR ME OUT- I'm looking respectfully.... No one should deny that this man is pretty muscular ♥️ He is so bashful when you praise his strength. You would also have the privilege to touch his biceps or lean your head on his chest,,,(I swear I'm normal). Just the feeling of you tracing his arm, shoulder, spine, and chest makes him go crazy and so down bad -

•He won't stop talking about you once a question related to you comes up - the victim will never hear the end of it -

•Canonly when you date him, He'll give you flowers that are plucked out of the ground since he cannot afford to bye a prettier bouquet from a flower shop...

•When he's sad, you have to give him words of assurance or hold him close... You can even order any kind of fast/junk food, and he'll be so happy that you would do that for him😭🥺

•If you happen to be smaller than him, he would find the opportunity to hover over you and wrap you up with his hoodie or coat before pulling you to an embrace. Kinda like shoving your head inside the coat;;;

•Besides writing songs and playing the guitar for you, he would also try to sing for you if he wasn't so hella shy about it. hhh;(he sings surprisingly decently tho!!!)

•He loves having a bike ride with you- he once promised that if he ever affords a car, you'll always get the passenger princess treatment, no buts!!!

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into something different. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

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

April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

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

March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.  

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

Why you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

[batboyblog]

Hi, idk if you're a Mdni page or not, but I'm really scared. I'm 15f, I live in a mostly red state, I've grown up here, and everyone I know is voting red. I was previously in the middle, I didn't care either way who won. I'm terrified of the election after reading about everything the Republican candidate did and plans to do. I wanna know if there's anything I could do to help prevent Trump from winning the election? I have a younger sister, and I don't want her to have to live in a country where her rights are being stripped from her. I just wanna know how to help. Thank you for reading and feel free to delete if I broke a boundary.

for the record I don't mind anyone sending me an ask, everyone is welcome to interact respectfully.

that out of the way, I remember working for Hillary in the 2016 election (by my math you would have been 7?) and our intern was your age and he was... he was everything he was so dryly sarcastic, smart, unflappable, could do anything, he kept us sane and he saved our asses with his can do (and tech skills) more times than I can count.

So to any teens out there who are not yet old enough to vote and think "oh there's nothing I can do" in 2016 we won a Senate race by 1,000 votes, which 100% was the doors we knocked and the voters we talked to out of our office, a 16 year old intern working his ass off saved Obamacare in 2017, not a word of a lie, you can make a difference as an intern or volunteer

Now, from the tone of what you're saying it sounds like your parents would into that, idk if you're parents are the kind of people who let you explore your own thing, or the kind of people who just wouldn't notice, or if they're the kind who would seriously object to you volunteering for the Democrats or progressive groups.

A lot of people assume because they live in Red States or Blue states they don't matter, but for example there are key Senate races this year in Texas, Montana, Ohio, and Florida (Red) and Maryland (Blue) Alaska is a traditionally red state but its one and only Congressperson is a Democrat who will run a very close race to get re-elected again this year. So where ever you live there is a key race, even if it's local. And lots of chances to call voters or send them postcards in swing states

Any ways everyone check out ways to Volunteer Run for Something also supports younger local candidates so if you live somewhere very red or very blue it can be helpful to find locals running for school board or city Council

now for you personally young person, and everyone else, have real and serious conversations with people in your life about this stuff, I can not TELL you how often I knock on someone's door and we talk politics and they tell me "oh well I'm a Democrat, but everyone around here is really a Republican" but like I just talked to 4 other people who were Democrats in their neighborhood, they just saw one Trump sign and gassed themselves up about it. People are often much more swingable than you think, feel everyone out, if there's an adult in your life thats convincible, work on them find out what they care about and bring them facts, be claim and reasonable and work on them. Each of us doing one on one work with people who know us is WAY! more impactful than any TV ad a campaign can buy.

finally if your parents won't let you volunteer for Dems, reach out to the League of Woman Voters, they're not partisan, so they're not Dems or Republicans, they believe in voting. When I was in High School I organized a voter registration drive in my school at lunch time, thats a great thing to do, call your county/town clerk's office and talk to your school, get a social studies teacher involved they love that shit, young people are much more likely to be Democrats so just registering them is helpful.

best of luck, in the words of Hitchhiker's Guide, Don't Panic.

[h0ney-dames]

Putting all the drama because someone just couldn’t let it die

All names have been blurred bar mine and the offenders, if you know anyone involved in this please keep them anonymous :)

This you ghosting me for a week because I stated my boundaries?

This you trying to turn me against people I trust? This you trying to “totally not force me” to change my opinion of my friends?

This you victim-blaming me in an SVR? A svr that I brought up my issue with the owner at the TIME of the incident and not months after and when no action was taken I elected to avoid and ignore you? This you after I felt uncomfortable so I told someone I trusted the information? This you? (Btw it should be “going behind someone's back” not “gone behind someone's back” Telling people I TRUST that you were being WERID IN MY DM’s, isn't going behind your back it's setting a boundary. If you tell me something no matter how hard I've promised I won't tell you that promise is null and void when it starts to affect me offline.)

This you asking to roleplay NSFW and make nsfw head canons with my OCs even tho I stated I was a minor? And you were also a minor? Who.. hmm… snuck their way into an NSFW channel, and flirted with people older who were uncomfortable? You knew I was a minor and you still decided NSFW was ok?

This you struggling to understand the term “I can't”? This not only happened once but on multiple occasions. You also oh I don't know, spammed me about 4 times a day when I stopped responding to you. I used to put myself on invisible any time you would DM me because I couldn't stand the thought of texting you without feeling the need to vomit!

This you claiming these are your highest kins after I changed my name to Damien and you proceeded to start going by Lasky (more openly? I'm unsure if you already went by that but you had never put it in any of your names till I started going by Damien, I didn't say it at the time but this made me uncomfortable. I'm aware I should have said something sooner.)

This you??

This you denying that gay has become an umbrella term? Don't worry babe you can still be gay! Just because it's an umbrella term doesn't mean it's not a sexuality! You know that right? This isn't the 1920s 🥰🤩

I was willing to not make a call-out post the first time but if you're willing to “bring a situation to light” then I'm willing to show the other corner.

I tried to handle this respectfully and with the dignity that you couldn't uphold. I will not let you drag me through the dirt without educating people on what you have done so that no one else has to cause themself mental stress. You haven't just upset me but others.

You broke boundaries that were put in place to keep others safe and only talked to people you believe would have benefited you or that you could somehow manipulate and blame others/your mental health is not a valid reason to be a fucking prick.

And if the person in the post sees this, one, is good! Two, take your issues up with me. I had my time, and I said my bit when it happened, you do not have a right to go pull up old drama to get people banned after YOU made them uncomfortable, not only did I have to change my boundaries because of people like you I also had to change how I trust people because YOU abused that trust

For anyone wondering where you can find this lovely LOVELY individual

This you?

Ps sweetheart your not 18, your 16-17 at most, 🥰😘

it's not a call out without their users now is it?

I apologise that this isn't my normal post, I was willing to not do a call-out the first time this happened, but it seems only reasonable if they are going to drag my name down :) Hope this helps you all avoid this creature

Happy Halloween everyone remember to lock up all your monsters real tight or they will start spreading bullshit :)

[be-missed]

Call Me Babe For The Weekend (MDNI)

Vada Cavell X Fem!Reader

(picture not mine)

Summary: If only a high school reunion party is the reason Vada got to see you again, then so be it. Fuck her work commitments, fuck that blind date, and fuck the traffic lights. MDNI

Warning: curse words, smut minors dni. Story happens after college, so like Vada is older and have a job, so as Reader. So probably a slight ooc Vada and a slight twist in the original plot. Hate sex and like sligt angst. Cheating.

A/N: First time I will be writing for Vada. This won the poll so here you go.

words: 2.1K

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Everybody in the room clapped as Y/N finishes her performance on stage, some loud whistles from boys who aren't still married and have a child to support has been heard, while some other girls talk on how Y/N still has the talent that she have during high school, while there is Vada, just staring and reminiscing about the times that she get to see Y/N practice and jut watch her and be awed about Y/N's talent.

A slap on her arm gets to pop her own bubble "Now stop day dreaming and go to her" her friend Nick told her as she rubs the slapped area of her arm "Ouch? And why would I need to talk to her, she fucking hates me anyway" Vada said in return still following where Y/N went.

"Okay, she hates you, but you need to remember that she also loved you, like a lot lot" Nicki told the other girl "Please just fucking go to her, because I can't stand seeing you undress her in your own mind" Nicki exclaimed, begging her friend to just talk to Y/N.

"What will I tell her then? I don't want to start a small talk, she'll just probably not entertain me" Vada said with a sadness remembering how she messaged and texted Y/N when they broke up, or how she went to her house every time just for her to talk to Y/N. Well they didn't technically broke up, Vada thought, since Y/N just left after the last school year without even saying good bye to the other girl.

"Get a grip, please just talk to her. She's grown and I think she forgave you. Just talk to her, you deserve a closure." Nicki said and tapped her for some support, "Well here goes nothing" Vada said, getting up from her seat and walking to your side at the bar.

While walking, in every step that Vada take, she kept on thinking on what to say to you, how will you react, what will you do. Vada thought if you will just follow the lines that you said inside her head, everything will be just easy, but that's not the case.

"Still got that shiny necklace on your neck, I see" Vada started the conversation. Silence, Y/N is just looking at the bottles in front of them, drinking her sour whiskey. "Please, just talk me" Vada said with a small voice, looking at Y/N's face. They might not talk, or see each other but Vada for sure stalks every social media account that Y/N have just to know if you are doing well and if you happy. To Vada, well, you looked happier than you were, carefree even.

Vada got pulled out of her bubble when she was now staring in your eyes and said "There's nothing to talk about" and that earned Vada a chuckle and said, "Come on, really? Nothing to talk about? You left me, without any indication and now I get to see you after years and you're gonna say that we have nothing to talk about?"

Y/n lets out a deep sigh "Look, I'm not here to talk to you, I'm here to see my old friends and have fun. Interacting with you is not on my list tonight, so please, I am respectfully asking if you could fuck off" Y/N ended and started to get up from her seat and started to walk to go to the restroom.

Vada follows closely and said "Well I don't care about your list. I just want to talk to you and clear things out" Y/N then fasten her phase "Y/N please, just, can you" Out of breath, Vada is still trying to follow Y/N. Why are your steps so big? Vada thought.

"Where the fuck is the rest room" y/N exclaimed trying to find the rest room. A grip on her forearm stopped her from pacing around "Please Y/N, fucking hell Y/N, can we please just talk, I am begging here" Vada exclaimed, "And again, there's nothing to talk to Vada, so just fuck off" Y/N exclaimed trying to get her arm off from Vada's hold "Get off of me" Y/N said.

"Nope, not until you decide to talk to me" Vada said with a wide smirk knowing that she is much stronger than you.

Huffing, Y/N said "Okay, fine what do you want to talk about?" and Vada answered "Why did you leave me? You didn't talk to me for weeks and you didn't tell me you were leaving" and now, that statement made Y/N chuckle.

"Really Vada? That's your question?" Y/N said while looking a Vada's face realizing that Vada is not joking and that was her real question, "Are you really joking right now? You are asking me why I left you?" Y/N said while Vada just nodded.

"Wow, well for starters, you neglected me for 2 whole months, you hand out with Maddie more than me, You kissed her, and lastly you fucked her, while we were in a relationship" Y/N exclaimed, "So now Vada, tell me, was that not a good reason to fucking dump your ass and leave you?"

The grip on Y/N's arm loosen and she got her arms back.

"That was, I told you, I didn't do it in purpose, I was grieving, I didn't know what I was doing, please, just I told you right? After that day happened, everything for me was different. And she was the one I was with..." Vada said.

But Y/N wasn't taking any of her reason and said "I know Vada, that is why I was trying my best to be involved in your life more and be a supportive girlfriend, but you fucking kicked me out and closed yourself to me. I have given my best part to you Vada, I have given everything but you just shut me out and let that girl comfort you. It should've been me Vada, it should've been me that you chose to fucking go through things. Now tell me if that's not enough reasons."

Now a tear stained face is what Vada is looking at. But deep inside Y/N's heart, she had forgiven Vada a long time ago, she just carry that hurt with her. She might not be suck a the restaurant but she surely checks every new things that is going on in there.

Leaving town, the school, and Vada that day was the most hardest and painful thing that Y/N did in her entire life. Her mom said that it was for the best, since the more you give, Vada wanted you less. Because sometimes giving up and running away is the right thing and the most bravest thing that a person can do.

Y/N got still love for Vada, she knows it in herself, but it is exactly hard to trust Vada back again.

Y/N was now leaning back to the lockers while Vada closed the space between them and buried her face into Y/N's neck.

"I'm sorry, I know. I'm sorry" Those were the words that Vada kept on saying. "Let me make it up to you please" Vada whispered in your neck.

Y/N badly wants to push Vada away, her mind kept on saying no, but her body acts on the opposite side, "fuck" Y/N thought.

"You don't need to forgive me right now, but please give me a chance" Vada's hands were now situated on Y/N's side, squeezing and massaging Y/N's waist.

"Vada..." Y/N said, voice faltering as Vada started to drop light kisses on her neck, "Tell me if you want to me to stop" Vada said as she climbs her kisses up to Y/N's face.

Y/N and Vada are now looking at each other's eye, testing the waters Vada lean in, and just like a jack in the box, it surprised her when Y/N also leaned in to kiss her.

Vada was trying to get the upper hand by tilting her head to deepen the kiss, yet Y/N's hand was now on her nape trying to pull her away. Vada thought if Y/N will try to tease her then she will do things her way. So Vada's free hand travelled from Y/N's waist to her ass, squeezing it real hard, making Y/N gasp.

Vada then travels her kisses again down to Y/N's neck with her other hand making its way under Y/N's dress, squeezing and sliding her fingertips along Y/N's thigh that made the other girl squirm.

"Tell me to stop Y/N" Vada challengingly said to Y/N who got her head rested in the lockers with her eyes closed, with heavy breathing she said "Just fuck me already."

Vada wouldn't just fuck Y/N in the hallway, leaning into the locker, of course she would tease the other girl until she begs.

Vada then slid her fingers through Y/N's underwear, into the slit that's now forming a wet patch, "Getting wet are we?" Vada said with a smirk on her face, Y/N squirms and squirms trying to get Vada's finger to hit her spot.

"Just please, put a finger inside me already" Y/N said while squeezing Vada's biceps, and anchors one of her feet to Vada's hips that made the other girl closer to her.

Vada pulls Y/N's underwear to the side, and the moment that Vada's fingertips got in contact with her wet slit, Y/N stifles a moan and grips Vada's biceps tightly.

"So wet, think you're ready for me?" Vada plays with Y/N's clit a few more times and teasing her entrance "Please Vada, just fuck me already" Y/N desperation in her voice.

Vada started to again kiss Y/N's neck and slowly inserts two of her fingers. Relishing the feeling of being inside Y/N for so many years, how tight and silky it is, "fuck, so tight Y/N" Vada whispers, moving her fingers, massaging Y/N's walls.

A moan slips out of Y/N's mouth, a sweeet music into Vada's ears. It feels good to knowing how she pulls those sounds out of Y/N's mouth.

"Faster" Y/N whisper trying to grind into Vada's hands and anchoring her legs into Vada more, "As you wish" Vada said while she fasten her phase while her other hand gropes Y/N's breast through her dress that made Y/N moan, "Still sensitive like before" Vada thought to herself.

Feeling a little bit tighter, Vada grinded her palm to Y/N's clit that added a lot more pleasure to the other girl, "I'm close" Y/N said with labored breaths.

"Cum for me" Vada said as she kissed Y/N's lips to prevent the girl from letting out a loud moan that might get them caught. Y/N's hands went tighter around Vada's neck a she reaches her high, trying to grind on Vada's hand to help herself settle down.

Vada delivers light kisses into Y/N's neck, "You did good" Vada said.

Catching her breath, Y/N tries to push Vada away and straighten her dress from the wrinkles that developed from the past activity.

"What was that for?" Vada said, surprised with what Y/N did. While Y/N just looks Vada for a second and walks to the exit, Vada followed until they got into the parking lot and Vada grips Y/N's arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Vada said angrily at Y/N, "Home Vada, so can you let go of my arm?" Y/N answered, "You won't go home until we are done talking Y/N" Vada says while trying to keep her voice down.

"We are done talking Vada, right before you fuck me into the lockers" Y/N exclaimed, "Your also gonna blame me? You said yes Y/N, don't make me take the blame for what happened because if I remember correctly you were begging" Vada stated as a matter of fact.

"Yes, I got what I need and you got what I want, we can call it quits" Y/N says and yanks her arms away and started to walk to her car while Vada follows her.

"Great, now you are walking away again, go, do something that you are great at. Go on and leave." Vada yelled to Y/N that made the other stop walking.

In a heartbeat, Vada feels a hot sting on her cheek, "Fuck you Vada, if you think a single fuck would get me back to you then you thought wrong. Fuck you." Y/N said walking towards her car and starting it, while Vada stands still, hand on her stinging cheek, following Y/N's car leave the lot.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: I know a short smut, but hey there's drama. Anyway, thank you for voting and sorry for the short smut. Hope you enjoyed it! I'm gonna bounce, bye.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hello lovely. I saw that you have open request and ran to leave one. I'm going to give you an idea, just to make it more "easy" for you (idk, I explain my self like a shit when it come to ask for request, I'm sorry). Will be for ghost x reader (or y/n), whatever you want.

What if soap, on the way to mexico, start talking about love and asks ghost if he believes in it (which he can give a simple or a cold answer). To which soap says that hopefully ghost will fall in love at first sight so that he will eat his words.

And when they land in mexico (in the part they meet alejandro and blah blah), there is a friend or maybe alejandro's daughter. And ghost just fell hard and now he has to eat his words. And maybe where Alejandro and Soap notice this and start comment Sweet thing just to fuck him up, like: "Oh y/n, you just win a heart" "Love is in the air" And ghost just having a heart attack.

Basically is the trope of "falling in love at first sight" Just something like that with daddy ghost. Can make something complete different that the "idea" that I gave you. Thank you very much if you write it. Have a nice day ♥️

Your brain… literally beautiful ily and I love this idea 😭❤️

Ghost was a man of few words, he never says anything he doesn’t mean, he’s direct, and he won’t shy away from the blunt truth. It’s extremely rare that he has to backtrack, and it takes an anomaly of the utmost importance for him to eat his words. And that anomaly is you.

On the plane to Las Almas, Soap had asked him if he believed in love at first sight and the lieutenant couldn’t help but scoff before turning his attention back to the empty seat across from him.

“I feel sorry for ye, LT, I’m sure there’s someone out there that can stomach ye.” Soap sighed,

“Focus, sergeant.” His voice was stern,

“Jus’ sayin’”

There was a small pause, Soap’s prodding question hanging heavily in the air. Beckoning an answer that would satisfy,

“It’s not for people like me, Johnny.” He admitted quietly, and if it weren’t for the fact that Soap sat right next to him, he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Respectfully, sir, I think you’re more human than you let on.” He shrugged,

And then the plane landed and the doors opened, you stood beside Alejandro, talking to him and laughing before turning your attention to the two men approaching you. And that was it. That was the kiss of death. Your laugh echoed in Ghost’s mind, bouncing off the walls of the heart he dismissed as cold. Your smile was bright enough to challenge the sun, and when you walked ahead of him with your shoulders back and humble confidence in every step, he was a goner. (It didn’t help that he was mesmerized by the swaying of your hips)

Absolutely fucking not. There’s no fucking way.

After exchanging words in the car on the way to Alejandro’s base, suddenly he wanted to hear you talk about everything and anything. He wanted to hear your life story and everything else in between. So naturally when Soap would ask you something, Ghost would hang off of every syllable that came out of those pretty lips.

And you picked up on that (you’re not Alejandro’s top pick for no reason), and you had to admit that maybe it wasn’t so terrible having a ghost haunt your every step. So you indulged him, and in turn you indulged yourself.

You brought him coffee in the mornings and sat in silent contemplation until one of you broke the silence, and more often than not it was Ghost. He’d ask how long you’ve lived in Las Almas and how long you’ve been in Los Vaqueros, and you’d smile that same smile that lit up the airstrip when he first landed. You answered every question and tried getting some out of him in return, he was a little more reserved than you but you could tell that he wanted to give you the whole truth.

Through all this, you managed to convince your colonel that you were just trying to get to know your new teammates. To which he laughed, winked and clapped your shoulder, much to your chagrin. Soap didn’t go any easier on Ghost,

“So how’d recon go?” He asked as nonchalantly as he could manage,

“Uneventful, thanks to an extra set of eyes. Managed to tag an extra set of guards we missed.”

It was rare for Ghost to throw out a compliment so unaware like that. And even rarer for him to catch himself. It took a fraction of a second for his eyes to widen and return to normal as soon as he realized what he said. But Soap saw all of it. He bit his lower lip so hard,

“Sergeant, I’m warning you.”

“Lips are sealed, LT.”

“Fuckin hell, Johnny.”

And then Soap caught you two. It was a tender moment and he almost felt bad stumbling upon it, but he couldn’t deny he was thrilled to witness it.

“You know your blood’s supposed to stay inside of you, right?” You teased as you held Ghost’s bicep, your hands firmly holding gauze against a nasty bullet grazed,

“Wouldn’t have thought.” He chuckled,

“What do they teach you guys over there?” You laughed shaking your head, your bottom lip catching on your teeth as you tried to suppress it and focus on his wound,

“Personally, I make a tea to die for.”

“A critical skill, I’m sure.” You teased, “You’ll have to make me one sometime.” Your fingers gently wrapping the wound with a bandage, your touch was light and firm when it was needed. Ghost didn’t miss the way your hands shook almost imperceptibly, or the way your cheeks reddened as you seemed to process what you just said,

“Just tell me when.”

Soap was biting his fist as he watched all of it unfold, “Not for people like me” my arse. He watched as your eyes flickered from the bandage on his arm, down to your hands, and back up to his eyes,

“Tell me how to reach you and I will.”

Damn, that was smooth.

Alejandro approached you later on with a knowing smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders,

“Parece que te encontraste un fantasma.” Looks like you found yourself a ghost.

“Ay, ya, Alejo, please.” You playfully shoved him away from you with a bashful smile and a blush that would put tomatoes to shame.

Not too far away, Ghost and Soap were prepping their gear, getting ready to track down Hassan,

“If ye don’t say anything, ye’ll regret it.” Soap said as a matter of factly,

“Keep it tactical, sergeant.” Ghost sighed, doing everything he can to focus on sharpening his knives. Don’t bite. He’s baiting you. Don’t fucking say anything.

“Besides, they already know how to get hold of me when they want to.”

“What’d I say, sir? I fuckin’ told ye-”

“That’ll do.”

[marsskop]

*RIDES IN ON A DARK STEED*

Respectfully, I would love to know about Solar von Valancius' illustrious career in the Astra Militarum.

Five years between two photos of Solar.

Lieutenant General Solar Scipio-Grimald, Commander of the 8th Scanthian Janissaries. Forgeworld-born, of immense height and strict bearing, he rose to the ranks due to his combat mettle, quick strategical wit and unbending discipline. Scanthian Janissaries under his command became proficient in fighting the Archenemy, their mental fortitude explicitly trained by Solar’s orders, efficiently curbing down Chaos cults and engaging in combat with the daemons. Lieutenant General Scipio-Grimald was always in the thick of the fighting, having even brought down a daemon engine with a definitive strike of his chainsword.

Alas, no war is won without a defeat in battle. When an assault broke against an unexpectedly huge force, and a surrounded company of Scanthian Janissaries found themselves trying to pull back, Solar held back with his squad to give his forces time. Pinned and unable to escape, he was taken prisoner. Tortured for days in untold ways, his body was broken beyond restoration yet his mind persisted.

His regiment gathered forces and led a strike to break him out, and soon, after what felt like an eternity to Solar himself, he returned. He never recovered the strength he had lost, and even new augmetics didn’t heal him from his debilitating injuries. But his will was never broken, and his care for his men only sharpened; he relearned and became a marksman, his true power now lying in strategy, knowing his soldiers’ strong and weak sides, and making sure each of them returned. His regiment managed to achieve a few victories against Chaos forces until Solar was called away as an heir to the von Valancius dynasty.

- unnecessarily tall. He is a head taller than most people. Might be a strain in genetic code, or some voidborn blood in his veins...

- disabled. He lost strength and weight and never managed to restore any; he has to rely on a breathing machine. Both his hands are augmented, though, so the power of his grip is tremendous.

- brilliant. His true power was never his strength or melee mettle, but his strategic mind. The battle unravels into possibilities in his eyes; he knows the weaknesses and strengths of everyone of his soldiers, squads, or companies. He is capable of scaling combat to any unit of strength.

- iconoclast-leaning, ex-dogmatic. Newfound power gives him a possibility to focus on people. To give them a fighting chance, to allow them redemption, to trust in them. Before, he couldn't afford a mistake. now, he can afford to put human lives above. "Power corrupts," they say, but for him, power is a way to be merciful. Still, suspected Chaos corruption is reason enough to pull up with a shooting squad.

[askew-d]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "askew-d "?

hello, there! sorry for the long wait, i forgot to check my notifs :( i will do better next time. thank you for this question! i feel like i’ve waited ages for someone to ask me exactly that, lol. i could talk about well-written fanfics forever!! can i give you a hug? because this is wonderful, really.

let’s go for it! my range of fanfiction that i enjoy vary, but one thing remains: i will adore your fic, no matter the fandom, if it’s written with passion and if it contains good, poetic introspection. i love poetry. for me, if there’s melancholic tropes of any kind i’m into it. immortal character and reincarnation? give me now. supernatural elements or slice of life with doomed narrative? i’ll ignore sleep to read it. angst with happy ending? my endgame, for sure.

however, i also adore silly, comedic, cute pieces of domestic life or otherwise. i had a hard time choosing from my bookmarks for this, and i also reviewed some of my favorites, it was fun. before we continue, here are some of the tags that i don’t dive into for whatever reason: porn without plot (it personally just doesn’t interest me at all), non-con, gore, a/b/o dynamics, soulmates au. sorry if you were hoping for it! i’ll try classify them into an order of what i like most.

1. jellyfish, by mystery twin, for the haikyuu!! fandom — i read this when i was finishing high school and coincidentally the story talks about finishing high school! i have a personal attachment that makes me reread it every year. it’s some sort of tradition at this point. not to mention i love kagehina dearly.

2. teen project to change the world, by animeloverhomura, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — respectfully speaking, i would find this author and give them a big hug. their writing is spetacular! if you've never seen this one and you're into mdzs, know it's a story where the characters get to see every event from the novel and donghua, even the dead characters. they watch wei wuxian journey, can you believe it? so goddamn entertaining. promptly waiting for the next update!

3. a hundred or so hellos, by iwillstillopenthewindow, for the haikyuu!! fandom — remember i said i love melancholic stories? well, this one broke me so hard, i had to mention how i hold it with tenderness (we love things that breaks us, dont we?). this fandom manages to write the cutest, most unhinged things sometimes. even it's an anime about sports. i always get amazed by it.

4. no certainty of doors between us, by betts, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — certainly the most silly little fanfic i've ever seen, it's hilariously sweet. i want everyone to read this masterpiece because, seriously, whoever did this deserves only the best. so, so, cute. it had to be in my top 10!

5. their kindred encounters, by fireflavoredwhiskey, for the untamed rpf fandom (bjyx) — you know those kinds of shows, books, any piece of media, that tears up apart? well, this one was it for me. it's a very famous one that deserves all praise, certainly well-written and enjoyable to the core, with doses of angst, romance and beauty overall.

6. as the clouds part and clear, we finally meet again, by 12262325, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — aaaaa, i was truly torn between putting this in the third or fourth place, but i ended up putting it here. come on, i love an age difference kind of story, especially for wangxian, and this one was perfectly done. sweet and funny. the development? the yearning?? outstanding!! i read this many times already, i'll never get tired.

7. pursuit, by emleewrites, for the haikyuu!! fandom — mystery, romance, lawsuits, poker games, adventure, slice of life, AMAZING depictions and so, so goddamn well-written? that's what you're looking for in any fanfiction. the author dedicated herself entirely for this story, and, like i said, i love stories that are written with passion, you can see it pouring through every paragraph. besides, highly entertaining. i'm not very into long fics, but once i started it off, i couldn't stop. that's how addicting it is.

8. linger by the door (i’ve always been yours), by piecrust, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — epistolary?? have i mentioned how i love it?? some of the phrases in this are gold, in my bookmarks you can check some of them (i ought to make a list of my favorite fic quotes, btw, i will sure do it). through each letter i could comprehend more of wei wuxian's feelings and his internal conflict. i love feeling this connected to a character.

9. all the world is ours to take, by khrys, for the fugou keiji fandom — i have more than one favorite fanfiction for this couple. you know these kinds of developing relationship where the transition from (maybe enemies too) friends to lovers happens so smoothly that it feels like they've been soulmates first and foremost at the end? i don't even know how to explain. i just love how, when they finally are together, it's like they've been together for years. and they just... made it official? i like it. i love my mr. kambe haru.

10. he won’t tell you that he loves you, by hellshandbasket, for the house m.d fandom — i found this to be the most fitting, perfect story for this specific couple. they deserved more stories like this, but we dont see it anymore. i would hightlight the feelings realization in this one, that is so fucking real? haha in any case, it's a fanfic that i enjoyed a great deal.

that's it, i guess! i wanted to add link click fanfics also, however i barely started reading fanfictions from its fandom, i'm drowning in it lately but it's just a start. perhaps very sooon!

oh, i’m gonna finish explaining about the name! in my native language, i’ve heard someone tell me before that ‘life’s a little askew, nothing’s ever perfect’, and that quote remained in every biography of any english website i ever went to. then in literature class someday i had to write about historical women and came across this one named anne askew (i wanted to write about the mostly barely-spoken women). it was the second time i saw this word. i didn’t think of it as a proper name before, but then i had to create a nickname for my ao3 profile and thought, humn, why not just ‘askew’? the quote has been engraved in my heart anyway, so i went for it. we’re all flawed and askew. so, yeah, it just… fit? the ‘d’ here on tumblr it’s only because my surname has a ‘de morais’ in it. i also liked that it resembled ‘alaska’, the john green character i was kinda of obsessed with back in my teenager grunge phase. i don’t like these kinds of books anymore, but i guess some details stay with you. do you think it’s weird? never thought of changing.

thanks for this outstanding ask, it certainly entertained me. and hope you have a nice sleep today, big hugs coming your way! 🤍