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forthoseinterested · 25 days ago

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Anime reviews

I’m not that into anime, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense for me to rate and review every anime series that I’ve ever seen, but I’m going to do it anyway. There were a few on TV when I was young that I got into watching (Inuyasha, Sailor Moon); the rest I didn’t see til my mid 20s. In total, I’d say I’ve seen 11.

If you’re not into anime, the brief glimpses you get into the anime world can make it seem strange and off-putting. The characters all talk weird, they yell certain lines at random, everybody is an exaggerated stereotype, that girl’s breasts are weirdly big and everyone’s skirts are weirdly high and those camera angles are really unnecessary. Then somehow the writing and dialogue feels like it was made for kids. It’s like a whole made by and for horny teenagers.

But as with anything, you have to find the good stuff. Most of any category of thing is going to be bad. Like, most books are bad, most movies are bad, most music sucks. Our idea of what’s good is relative, and we only ever really like the best of a given category that we find. I say that I like metal music for example, but out of all metal music out there, how much have I heard? I’m probably just listening to the top 5% of it I’ve come across or something.

I’ve been pretty careful about what anime series I waste my time with. I try watching one episode, and if it’s bad then I just quit. These are all series that were at least tolerable enough for me to keep watching. And then some of them ended up being really good.

Little Witch Academia (2017)

rating: 3/5 — length: 25 episodes

It has the vibe of the early Harry Potter movies, but if Hogwarts was an all-girls school. Then it goes off in a totally different direction, in terms of characters, theme, and story. The show is often super cheesy, but it’s also just one of the most wholesome things I’ve ever seen, and fortunately it has none of the pervy weirdness featured in a lot of the other anime with teenage girl characters (don’t lewd my akko!).

The protagonist is Atsuko (pronounced ‘ought-sko’) Kagari, known by her nickname Akko (‘aw-koh’). I first watched Little Witch Academia shortly after it came out during a fairly bad time in my life and this character warmed my stupid heart. She’s adorable, guileless, and kind, somebody with a childlike wonder and innocence and curiosity about the world. It’s a personality-archetype that many other shows try to pull off, but none as well as this one.

Akko’s dream was to attend magic school, and she gets in, which makes her very happy—but then it turns out she’s not good at school. She falls behind in her classes and she struggles at things that seem to come more naturally to her peers. But she remains positive and perseverant and just keeps trying. I loved her blossoming friends-turned-enemies dynamic with Diana, the uncovering of mysteries about their intertwined past, learning about her hero Shiny Chariot, and the great introduction of a central villain half-way through the series.

For me, a great protagonist is often enough to carry everything else, and I did just love Akko as a protagonist. She makes this show. Diana and Croix are great characters too, and the general world that LWA creates is also enjoyable—but overall, I suspect that if you don’t appreciate Akko the way that I do, LWA wouldn’t be that great critically speaking. Just solid.

Death Note (2006)

rating: 5/5 — length: 37 episodes

This series is so ubiquitously praised that I wonder if there’s anything more I need to say about it. I feel like everybody who’s aware of it probably already understands it’s good.

Death Note is a well-constructed drama with a fascinating premise, and it doesn’t fail on the execution. It starts strong, it ends strong, it’s strong all the way through. I was truly impressed the first time I saw it, and that’s still how I feel now. There’s so much back-and-forth intrigue and things change up frequently enough that it never feels stupid or stale. The character’s motivations make sense, they do a good enough job answering or covering potential plot-holes for suspension of disbelief, the rules of the world are consistent. It’s just incredible.

I’ve heard some people didn’t like the character of Misa Amane because she just felt too unreal, too crazy, too hard to believe and take seriously—but girls like that exist. Hell, I bet a lot of girls who watched Death Note would’ve done what Misa did. Some people are crazy.

The low point of the series is probably that brief window right after that one character’s death, and some people say they stop watching at that point. In my opinion, it picks up and ends up being interesting again soon afterwards, and the entire series is worth watching. I think this was the only time I was so hooked by an anime that I binge watched like a dozen episodes at a time on first viewing.

Fullmetal Alchemist (2003)

rating: 4/5 — length: 51 episodes

This was an interesting series. It felt expansive, so many characters and stories and places. What genre do people consider this? It’s like those video games that are just called ‘action-adventure’ for lack of better term. It’s ‘kid-friendly’, but apparently all that means is there’s no sex or swearing. It explores some pretty dark and disturbing themes, and I know adults who quit after the chimera dog-girl plot over on. They also really tried to hit us in the gut when Hughes died and we had to listen to his daughter crying at the funeral. Like, the fuck?

Edward and Alphonse are well-conceived protagonists, the world felt so varied, and the rules and structure of the fictional world were clearly thought out. There’s lots of great twists (like their dead mother’s body still being around as a villain because failed attempts at human transmutation are what create homunculi), great characters (Roy, mon cœur), but centre stage in what made Fullmetal Alchemist excellent was its excellent overarching story, as their search for the Philosopher’s Stone leads them to delve into the history of conflict between their country of Armestris and the neighbouring region of Ishval.

The manga the TV series is based on hadn’t finished yet by the time the anime was wrapping up, so the people making the show just had to wing it and make up an ending. And what they came up with was actually pretty good. They added a character named Dante to serve as the final-boss villain, and the plan and motivation that gets revealed is satisfying. Then it gets wild and they leave the anime world and go interact with real-life historical Nazis for some reason, which was surprisingly well-done for how stupid that sounds on paper.

They ended up completely remaking this series in 2009–2010, which was called Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, incorporating the ‘real ending’ instead of that Nazi arc, and generally following the manga more closely. That went on to become one of the most highly rated anime series of all time. Maybe I’ll watch it someday.

Inuyasha (2002)

rating: 3/5 — length: 167 episodes, then 26 more, and 4 movies

First of all, Inuyasha has some of the most painfully cringe-inducing dialogue ever. Nearly every time the main cast is talking to each other, I’m dying of second-hand embarrassment. There’s always an awkward, pseudo-romantic tension that you’re waiting to break, and it just never does. They’re always saying the wrong thing, falling on their face socially. It’s just all fucking awkward. That may be partly the localization team’s fault, but part of it also feels intentional, because it’s part of how we get more invested in the Inuyasha–Kagome ship that always feels just over the horizon. They must like each other, but neither of them will say! They’re both embarrassed! How long can it go on? Fucking hell.

This is also one of those shows that probably accidentally gave a bunch of the audience fetishes without them realizing it. Inuyasha sort of has a female-dominant pet-play dynamic going on with Kagome, with the brilliant excuse that neither of them signed up for it. In the pilot, Inuyasha is a powerful hanyō (a Japanese word basically a spirit or demon?), but wears a special artefact called the beads of subjugation, allowing Kagome—and only Kagome—to topple him over just by saying ‘sit’ (get it? because he’s a dog). So Kagome, an ordinary and by extension physically weak human with no magical powers or whatever, is the only one who can dominate the otherwise powerful and dominant Inuyasha, and it’s important for plot reasons that Inuyasha do anything he can to protect her. Also, they lowkey have feelings for each other, but the writers are just going to go ahead and tease you with that for another 160 episodes.

The world of Inuyasha is awesome. It goes through so many different acts and locations (the Gang of Seven, Mount Hakurei, the whole story about Ninmenka—the demon-tree that turned people into fruit). They did a great job not only capturing the aesthetic and feel of ‘feudal Japan’, but making the world these characters inhabit feel enormous. I don’t think it’s an easy feat for shows to make their worlds feel big. (For an example of a series that fails at this, look at Star Wars. In universe, the world is way bigger than almost any other media, but the stories they tell within the Star Wars franchise makes the universe feel very small, because you don’t see that many different settings, the same small group of characters all just keep bumping into each other, and travel happens off-screen or in an instant.)

I thought about this for a while before committing to this: I really do think Naraku (left, with black hair) is the best villain that I’ve ever seen, ever, in anything. His aesthetic is perfect. He’s ominous, manipulative, mysterious, you don’t even know who he is at first. And whenever he was around, there was an amazingly iconic and sinister track that would play, which has been etched into my memory ever since.

Here, listen to it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSzVNoX57mA

Inuyasha’s older brother, Sesshōmaru (right, with white hair), is the coolest wandering anti-hero ever. He’s extremely stoic and arrogant; he reminds me of a vampire. But he’s a peak example of ‘anti-hero’ as a concept. He’s not evil, he’s not really good, but he has conflict with Inuyasha, and he spends almost the entire anime basically just wandering around doing his own thing. He has his own personal journey of self-reflection, pondering the purpose of his existence and his place in the world, after his father died and left him an object of healing instead of killing (which he left to Inuyasha—why, father?). He ends up sort of ‘adopting’ this little girl he saves named Rin, in his own confusion, and they develop a funny relationship where she follows him because she has nowhere else to go and she thinks he must be a great guy because he saved her, and he doesn’t even really understand why he’s taking care of her, he just does.

There’s also too many characters for me to go over them all. Kikyo, Sango and Miroku, Shippo. My god, Shippo is great! I love Shippo!

At the end of the day, I don’t recommend Inuyasha. Like I said at the start, it’s a really awkward show, the dialogue is painful, albeit in sort of a fun way. The story is very expansive, but could also feel drawn out. It’s by far the longest anime I’ve ever sat through. It’s a show that I remember positively and its fantasy world and characters have meaningfully stuck with me ever since I first encountered it, but I predict that most people would rate it as ‘just okay’ and not really worth the time investment given how long it is.

Cowboy Bebop (1998)

rating: 5/5 — length: 26 episodes and done (though there’s also a movie I didn’t see).

This is another series that receives what feels like universal praise. I went in with high expectations and—after a few rocky episodes near the beginning (that weird enviro-terrorist episode? and the child who never ages??)—by the ending I wasn’t disappointed at all. The pieces came together, and overall they managed to pull off something fantastic.

The world of Cowboy Bebop is often described as a ‘space Western’. The space part is because it takes place in a pseudo-futuristic world of 2071, where any normal person can buy a small starship and fly to Mars if they feel like it, but our television sets are still bulky and full of vacuum tubes. It’s like the Star Wars approach to tech, except there’s no such thing as ‘warp’ or faster-than-light travel, meaning nobody is ever getting out of our solar system. The world is realistically gritty and dirty—not dark and dystopian, but balanced, like if there’s been relatively little social change from the 1990s (when the series was made).

This type of world has similarities to the early American westward expansion. The structures of our society are spread thin because we’re suddenly exploring all this new space and we haven’t got a great handle on the available technology yet, so we’re suddenly awash in opportunity and resources but also crime and chaos. To compensate for their limited resources while trying to get a handle on organized crime, the police issue bounties for known criminals—and the starting main characters, Spike and Jet, are bounty hunters. They ride around in their small spaceship, which they call the Bebop (‘bee-bop’). That’s the episode-one premise.

The music and animation of Cowboy Bebop contribute to its unique aesthetic. It has a distinctly artsy, jazzy feel with a wide range of pace, from slower, more solemn moments to action-oriented fights or chases with fast energy. So much effort went into the landscapes and environments, the city streets, and score that Cowboy Bebop ends up being impressive purely as a work of art, like the 1988 anime film Akira.

As with many shows, Cowboy Bebop starts off more episodic, but then after getting comfortable it introduces more overarching elements. Its major theme is one that fits well with the cowboy analogy: the misfit, the wanderer, the person who has nowhere to go, nowhere to go back to. They’re lost in the world. That’s what the main cast all have in common. And after their paths cross, all they have is each other. For a time, the Bebop becomes home.

Eventually, we learn Spike was once a member of the Red Dragon Crime Syndicate, but after getting into a conflict with other members, he ran away and can never go back—their policy is that anybody who leaves the Syndicate must be killed, and he’s therefore (to them) a wanted man, indefinitely. Jet, meanwhile, is a former cop who became disillusioned by corruption on the force, leading to other police members betraying and attempting to murder him (he survived, but lost his entire left arm, now replaced with a mechanical one).

A few episodes in they encounter Faye, a woman on the run with no memory of who she is or where she came from. She has nothing to go back to. Then they meet Edward—who’s less of a main character than the other three—a strange teenage girl (who’s often mistaken for a boy) who was abandoned by her family and then ran away from the orphanage, with no clear plan for the future and, like the others, nothing secure she could fall back on.

Something else Cowboy Bebop does excellently is the characterization of its two male protagonists, Jet and Spike. They’re both strong, competent guys with their own ups and downs. I loved their personalities and their enduring friendship.The world Cowboy Bebop depicts is rather diverse. I think in the 90s, everybody assumed there would be less racial division in the future, because humanity would all move around and intermingle more. There’s a lot of random black and other racial minority characters, and they’re all different from each other and overall portrayed reasonably.

A brief part that some people would say hasn’t aged as well is in the two-parter Jupiter Jazz, when Spike encounters a gay male drag queen or crossdresser named Julius. Faye also meets somebody named Gren, who reveals he’s gay, and then later it’s revealed he has female breasts due to having been forcibly subject to experiment in the past.

If a Western animation studio were given a script like this today, they would likely have played it more sensitively or delicately—but there was nothing really negative about this episode, and I like how it ended up. It wasn’t sugarcoated or walking on eggshells. Neither Gren, Julius, nor the couple other crossdressers you briefly see are intended to be transgender, at least there’s no clear sign of that. It’s a guy who was given female hormones against his will, and some gay guys who are crossdressing in a gritty industrial setting. The show doesn’t encourage the audience to have a problem with these people. They’re simply portrayed.

In the late 90s, the concept of a trans person didn’t really exist yet in popular culture, and especially not in Japan, which is why in some cases there’s a lot of discourse and articles about whether a character from some old anime should be understood as trans or not. Let’s just appreciate things for being good in their time.

That said, this isn’t a big part of the show. What makes Cowboy Bebop great is the exploration into the depth of its characters. Spike’s, Jet’s, and Faye’s past lives all come back to haunt them, and they all have to reconcile and decide what’s really important to them.

It’s beautiful.

The Promised Neverland (2019)

rating: 4/5 — length: 12 episodes (first season)

I personally found it a little difficult to suspend disbelief about how young these characters were—but if you’re willing to tell yourself going in that what you’re about to see are the a bunch of genetically engineered super-kids with the intellect, ingenuity, and personalities of gifted university students, The Promised Neverland presents an interesting hypothetical scenario with a compelling story therewithin.

Don, Ray, and Emma live in an orphanage, which is in a pastoral setting, out in what seems like basically the middle of nowhere. They don’t remember life before the orphanage, and they’ve never left, so this is the only thing they know. Then, in the first episode, they stumble upon a secret: the orphanage is actually a human-breeding compound, which some kind of demons are using to farm them for consumption. The whole show is about how to escape.

I’m not the only one whom it reminded of Death Note. I also noticed the person who voices Emma in the English dub is the same voice actor who plays Akko in Little Witch Academia, and she just talks the same way in both roles, so it’s like, oh, hi Akko. (I only ever watch English dubs. I can’t stand listening to Japanese. No, I don’t want to argue about it.)

I really appreciate shows that just tell a single, self-contained story and end. It only takes 12 episodes for the kids to escape, and that’s it. But then actually they ended up making sequel seasons, which I never watched, so I have no idea how good those are.

Sailor Moon (1992)

rating: 2/5 — length: 45 episodes for the main series everybody knows, plus god knows how many more

I don’t know the whole Sailor Moon expanded media franchise, only the series that originally broadcast in the West. There were like 45 episodes that introduced the main Sailor Scouts everybody knows (Moon, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter).

The themes and aesthetics of Sailor Moon have been crazy influential; she’s the quintessential girl-boss girl-power nonsense that predates most other examples you can think of, and it embraces all its own silliness and immaturity. Usagi (renamed ‘Serena’ for the English version) dresses up and becomes a super-hero thingy that fights evil because a magical cat showed up one day and told her “hey, you have powers” and she kind of just goes “ok, cool” with not nearly as many questions and concerns as I’d have had. Then at the beginning of encounters with baddies she shouts a bunch of lines that don’t sound off-the-cuff, and it’s like, girly, who taught you any of this? Was it all in the back of your head, like a sleeper agent waiting to be activated? Spoilers: yes, basically. She’s the reincarnation of the Moon Princess, so it’s like on some deep, subconscious level she already knows all of this from a past life; it all just clicks for her.

But Usagi is also just a teenage girl, so she’s lazy, whiny, irresponsible, and more like she’s playing at being a superhero (even though she literally is one and it’s not just in her imagination). It’s all dumb and cheesy but also a lot of fun, but then for a lot of us it’s just 90s nostalgia, and one of the first tastes of ‘anime’ that many people are ever exposed to.

The first English dub was done by DiC Entertainment (‘deek’), who made all their own music (and got voice actors who sometimes just shamelessly phoned it in). The result is that when the show was re-dubbed in 2014 by Viz Media (‘vizz’), they couldn’t use the music from the version that most of us saw on TV growing up. Which is terrible! It actually changes the feeling and energy of the show so much if you just put in a score with a different mood. The only other bad changes were:

Naru (‘Molly’), Usagi’s best friend at school, the one with red hair, was given a totally random Brooklyn accent in the DiC dub, even though it’s set in Japan and none of her friends or family or anyone else sound remotely like that. It was such a dumb quirk, but it was one we all got to know, and in the Viz dub, they just made her sound like any other random Japanese girl. It felt so wrong to take it away from her.

Luna, the cat, also had a unique voice in the DiC dub, which gave her a distinct, unique sound, sort of like an old sorcerer or something. In the Viz redub, she, like Molly, just ended up sounding like any other random Japanese girl. This is probably even worse, because at least Molly just sounding like some random Japanese girl made sense, because she is literally a random Japanese girl. Luna is a magical talking cat.

The other loss I hated was the loss of the iconic Crown Arcade Theme, which is reused in many episodes of the DiC version. It was amazing—it screamed trouble and hijinx, let’s go hit the town and start some mischief or something. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64Cnu9nIzzo

In addition to being girl-boss girl-power female friendship representation, Sailor Moon pushed the envelope on queer representation way before it was cool. There was a lesbian couple and a gay male couple and they both got censored in the Western version. The lesbians came a lot later in the show, Sailor Neptune and Uranus, who were clumsily changed to instead be cousins instead of female lovers, which just resulted in these scenes with obvious romantic tension that made no sense in context and just ended up making it seem like they were cousins and lovers.

Earlier in the series, two of the male villains, Kunzite and Zoisite (pictured below), were very obviously gay for each other, which American broadcasters didn’t like. But Zoisite had long hair that was often styled in really feminine ways, so somebody came up with the clever solution of just cast a woman to do his voice, effectively gender-swapping him and making their romance heterosexual. The character looked so effeminate that it worked and many Western viewers didn’t realize this tall, flat-chested villainess was a guy.

A minor gripe is that Lita (Sailor Jupiter) was supposed to be noticeably taller than the others (it’s explicitly talked about), but Zoisite towers over her and nobody says anything. They should’ve added a long where one of the girls says “who was that really tall lady” or something.

It also sort of breaks the backstory of the show. Princess Serenity, the Moon Princess, was guarded by the (all-female) Four Guardian Deities and Prince Endymion, of the Earth Kingdom, was guarded by the all-male Shitennou (Four Heavenly Kings). Usagi and Mamoru (‘Darien’ in the English version) were the reincarnations of Serenity and Endymion, and after the moon cats discover them, they became Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask. The Sailor Scouts (changed to ‘Sailor Guardians’ in the English version) are the reincarnations of the guardian deities, while Queen Beryl’s generals are the reincarnations of the heavenly kings.

If you didn’t know any of that, I guess maybe you wouldn’t think about it while watching, but it’s so wrong they ruined the five-versus-five male-versus-female dynamic that was set up, turning one of the four kings into a woman just because they didn’t like how flirty Zoisite was.

I loved Lita. My favourite girl.

Anyway, Sailor Moon is goofy and fun and there’s a reason it was so goddamn influential and still has so many people who remember it and are actively fans of it today. But if you’re a dude and you’re not generally into anime, then you’ll probably just find it dumb? Unless you find it funny. Because it is dumb, and it is funny, and I love it. But critically speaking it’s a show with a lot of problems—shallow plots, stupid writing, bad dialogue, bad voice acting, etc.

Blue Exorcist (2011)

rating: 2/5 — length: 25 episodes (first season)

I only realized recently they ended up making more seasons of this. It was originally only one season, but then in 2017 they went back and made more. I only know the one.

In some ways, the soul of this show is very typical. It’s like somebody made a mash-up by putting all the other anime in a blender. The writing, pacing, animation—like if you coded a game and you just used all the default engine assets.

The main character is a hothead teenage guy named Rin (like the little girl who travelled with Sesshōmaru in Inuyasha). Rin discovers that he’s literally the son of the devil. No, like, literally. But he wants to fight against that and become an exorcist, so he has to go to exorcist school. It’s called True Cross Academy. He gets there and it turns out his better-behaved twin brother, Yukio, is already ahead of him and literally a teacher at the school, even though he’s also just a teenage guy.

The head of the school is also a demon, but who chooses to side with the church despite being a demon, so I guess demons are usually bad, but not always? And yeah, the side of good in this show is literally the church, like, the Vatican. There’s a handful of personality-archetype side characters. I liked Izumo Kamiki, whom the other characters called polkabrows, because of her weird eyebrows that are like dots.For the most part, this show was alright. Nothing about it was really bad. It just felt unremarkable, so I don’t know why you’d watch this when there’s so many other better series to watch.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011)

rating: 3/5 — length: 12 episodes

This looks like it’s going to be a typical girl-power show, but then it turns around and puts an actually-dark spin on the whole genre. A little creature approaches Madoka, the titular protagonist, with her meek voice and pink hair, to ask if she wants magical powers—reminiscent of Luna approaching Usagi to give her the magical locket that turns her into Sailor Moon.

This has the aesthetic of a dumb girl-fantasy with an annoying meek protagonist, but then turns out to be a dark spin on the whole genre. There’s a magical little creature that approaches a schoolgirl in Japan and asks her if she wants magical powers, reminiscent of Luna approaching Sailor Moon, but then it goes in a whole other direction. It’s unique and ominous, the twists are great, and the story has very little fat—finishing up in only 12 episodes, after doing everything it set out to do. I don’t even think I should say anything more!

Fate/Zero (2011)

rating: 2/5 — length: 25 episodes

This is one part of the broader Fate series, and the only part I’ve seen. The background is laughably contrived and strange, so there’s some set-up in that first episode, but once you get what the hell is going on, it tells a decent story. There’s a magical object called the holy grail, and in addition to it being a wish-granting artefact it seemingly has a soul and will of its own, and it creates this weird rules-based competition between a bunch of noble houses, who fight amongst theirselves and the winner is granted a wish, and this only happens once every couple generations. The way they have to fight is by choosing an historical figure of some kind and summoning them to command, so it’s like a weird large-scale Pokémon battle, except you’re bossing around Genghis Khan or something.

The thing this show does really well is juggling around a large case of characters who are all interesting and distinct and have to be ‘balanced’ in some way, since it’s an ongoing contest. There’s a kid who’s basically a deranged serial killer who enjoys gore but somehow they make him likable. The main plot is then all about how this fight plays out. The people who end up standing out most are Kirei Kotomine (a corrupt priest) and Kiritsugu Emiya (who’s not even a direct participant, but an assassin hired to help Irisveil—the master of ‘Saber’, the spirit of King Arthur—who’s a woman, for some reason?). I can’t be fucked remembering so many different Japanese names, so I just called Emiya ‘smokes’ and Kotomine ‘priest guy’. The longer the show goes on, the more it seems like the central conflict is about those two. They’re both fucked up and you gradually learn they have more backstory than the other characters.

I really liked the side character called Ryūnosuke Uryū, this younger guy, like a teenager I think, who’s a literal serial killer and loves blood, guts, gore, killing, and cruelty. It gets him excited and gleeful like a normal kid seeing candy. There was also Waver Velvet, a nerdy kid who gets dealt the most caveman-like of all manly heroes, called ‘Rider’, the spirit of Alexander the Great. There’s a bunch of other things I’m just not going to bother mentioning.

Oh, and then it turns out that Irisveil literally is the holy grail, whatever that even means. Fate/Zero is ambitious—but overall, its story, characters, and dialogue end up being just okay. I liked some aspects of it, but when all is said and done, it wasn’t that entertaining, and your time isn’t unlimited, so it’s not one of the ones that I’d recommend.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End (2023)

rating: 5/5 — length: 28 episodes

This show exceeded my expectations by a lot. I don’t even know what I was expecting—I guess something average, and it was far beyond that.

The world of Frieren isn’t super-exciting or action-packed. It’s more existential, contemplative. It reminds me of Cowboy Bebop in that way, but happening in a more open fantasy setting, like if that kind of story was told in Inuyasha. I actually sort of like how these days we all understand the concept of a fantasy setting with goblins, elves, dwarves, dragons, and dungeons with chests in them, so now shows are just taking that for granted as their starting point and moving right along. Why reinvent the wheel?

Frieren (‘free-ren’) is an elf mage, and her life far exceeds that of humans—as in we know they can live for thousands of years, at least. This results in a problem, which is outliving almost everybody you get to know. Once upon a time, Frieren went on a typical adventure-quest: a party of a monk, a mage, a warrior, and a dwarf travelled north to beat up the demon king in his ice palace or something. Victory and glory all around. Now it’s 80 years later and almost all the humans alive back then have died, and within the first couple episodes, Frieren’s human friends die of old age as well. So it’s like, okay, now what?

Frieren wanders around in a world of people who all know of the band of heroes who saved the world a couple generations ago, but none of them recognize that one of those heroes is standing right in front of them—and though she’s not in hiding, Frieren doesn’t chase that glory by going around proudly announcing who she is.

After Himmel, the warrior guy from Frieren’s adventuring party, dies, Frieren cries, overcome with the realization that for as much as he meant to her, she never adequately got to know him, due to not valuing her time like the short-lived humans do. She vows that she wants to learn as much about humans as she can, and in the process she comes to realize just how much the humans she’s encountered mean to her—especially Himmel.

She then befriends Fern, a young human mage, whom she brings along with her as a travelling companion. This time she does it differently, and her mentorship and friendship with Fern ends up feeling more like two sisters. It’s all very endearing.

There’s a fair amount more I’m not getting into. The point is Frieren captures something very special and that I enjoyed very much. This is the first time in my life that I’m looking forward to a new season of an anime coming out.

Some noteworthy series I watched for one episode and then quit:

Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid.

Himouto! Umaru-chan.

Attack on Titan.

I watched the whole first season of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure with a couple friends and just didn’t find it interesting enough to continue.

I remember watching episodes of the original Dragon Ball, when Goku is a kid, that seemed charming, though I’ve never gone back and watched all of it (and if memory serves, it’s long).

I also watched the pilot of that delicious dungeon anime that everyone is crazy about right now. I might end up watching more, but it has that contrived anime awkwardness I normally don’t like, so I don’t know.

#anime #review #analysis #rating #frieren #cowboy bebop #inuyasha #little witch academia #death note #fullmetal alchemist #promised neverland #sailor Moon #blue Exorcist #madoka magica #fate/zero #wow this post ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated

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justimajin · 1 year ago

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Oneshot?!! Please upload just atleast a drabble..

Oof, I had meant for it to just be a oneshot anon, so there were no plans for a drabble. However, the messages in my inbox have been telling me otherwise.

For the sake of everyone's closure, here are some notes on what I would imagined would happen after the ending:

-After discovering what happened to Aera and Sunoo, Jungkook would feel extremely guilty. He would blame himself for the situation and be conflicted with her newly found feelings for him.

↳ Despite being with Y/N, Aera is still his childhood friend. They've shared years together, and he's been in love with her for a year.

-Jungkook would end up feeling responsible in a way, and Y/N would be very understanding. They both care for Aera, and would try to help the two of them through the hanahaki (which they luckily have time for, compared to Jungkook's restricted timeline in the oneshot). Especially after both of them had their prior painful experiences with it.

-Y/N and Aera would have a rift. She was oblivious to what exactly what going on between Jungkook and Y/N, and upon discovering her feelings, would feel hurt that Jungkook had someone else.

↳ Y/N would try to handle this rift carefully, but ultimately Aera would have a difficult time letting go of her hurt.

-Jungkook would get used by Aera. In the sense that she'll be demanding for his attention more, and he would oblige, out of friendship and guilt. Y/N would be understanding at first, but it would soon drive her into an awkward position. Eventually, her feelings would surface again and she would talk to Jungkook, bringing to light that he can't keep laying his heart down for someone who won't treat him with consideration.

-Jungkook will realize that he has a much healthier relationship with Y/N. And that despite Aera throwing up flowers, their overall relationship was still never meant to be and had always been detrimental to him.

-Jungkook and Y/N will talk and reconcile. He'll apologize for blindly following along to Aera's wishes and confess that he truly loves Y/N. He'll still want to help Aera, but by stepping out of the equation entirely and helping her realize how much Sunoo loves her.

-Aera will get over her feelings about Jungkook with time, resolving her hanahaki and ultimately, Sunoo's. Jungkook and Aera's relationship will have cracks, never being the same again. Y/N will choose to distance herself from Aera.

#wow this ended up being much longer than I anticipated #but this is exactly what I would have envisioned if it was continued #writing a drabble is just out of my scope #because i felt like the story ended on a very precise note #that i do not want to change #if it makes sense #however #i understand it was shocking and the need for closure #so i hope this helps #don't hesitate to ask any questions #if you're curious anon #justimajin answers

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alygator77 · 6 months ago

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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 2 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex » 【note, there is physical & emotional intimidation in this chapter (from naoya not satoru), this is a form of domestic abuse, reader discretion advised】

ꨄ words: 12.5k

ꨄ a/n. firstly, wow thank you so much for all your kind words on ch 1 :") secondly, this series may be more than 3 chapters (maybe more like 4 or 5?) idk i'm still working out the pacing rn bc i really want the relationship to feel fluid and natural. this chapter ended up being much longer than i anticipated 😅 but as always, i would love to hear your thoughts and hope you enjoy ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎ previous chapter ꨄ︎ next chapter →

ch 2 // under the spotlight

Becoming a mother makes you realize you can do almost anything one-handed—though honestly, sometimes you wish you had an abundance of limbs.

Especially now. Your apartment is a whirlwind of activity – scattered toys, half packed bags and the remnants of breakfast still on the table. You’re in the middle of prepping your daughter’s essentials, trying to make sure you don’t forget anything important. Her preferred snacks, extra clothes, diapers, and a few of her favorite toys all stuffed into a bag.

“Mama, mama, look!”

Haru’s innocent voice rings out like a melody amidst your morning clamor. Halting your frantic movements, you’re drawn to her face, lit up with pure joy as she holds up her beloved Pikachu plushie. The bright yellow toy bounces in her hands as she makes it dance.

Her innocence provides a brief, much-needed, calm to the storm of nerves brewing inside of you. After all, today’s the day you’re meeting with Satoru and his lawyer to finalize the marriage contract. Your marriage—weird.

It feels odd saying it, the word foreign on your tongue. Marriage is a concept you never thought you’d be rushing into, especially not like this.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d marry Naoya Zenin.

Back then, you were so in love with his charm, his confidence, and the way he seemed to have everything figured out. But reality had a way of shattering those illusions.

His charm turned to arrogance, his confidence to control. It wasn’t long before you realized he cared more about owning you than loving you, and now you’re left with nothing but heartache and a broken family.

But amidst your turmoil you found a precious gift—Haru.

Her infectious giggle is a stark contrast to the chaos within your mind—it always manages to pull you back from your whirlwind of worries.

You’ll do anything in your power to keep her smiling, even if that means marrying Satoru Gojo, the man who is guilty for an abundance of your headaches.

With a deep breath, you zip up your duffle bag and turn to Haru who is lovably babbling to Pikachu.

“Come here, sweetie,” you say, kneeling down with her small jacket in your hand.

She toddles over to you, clutching her comforting plushie, eyes wide and curious.

Easing her tiny arms into the sleeves, you gently help Haru into her jacket.

“We’re going to meet some new friends today,” you tell her softly, fastening the buttons with care. “One of them is named Mr. Gojo.”

“Mr. Gojo?” she echoes, face scrunching up in concentration.

Truth be told, you weren't planning on bringing Haru to this meeting, but you’re faced with a lack of options, especially since technically, you’re fired.

Well… temporarily.

Until Satoru rehires you, paying the nanny isn’t feasible with your already stretched finances, Utahime, your ever-reliable friend, is unavailable. Your neighbor, who sometimes steps in to help, is out of town, and your mom is… your mom – as undependable as ever.

At this point you'd rather be caught dead than call Naoya again.

Calling him yesterday, when your nanny bailed, was a moment of pure desperation, a lapse in judgment driven by the chaos of the day and the fear of getting fired. Not your proudest moment.

It’s no surprise he’ll likely use it against you—hold it over your head like a weapon. It’s a pattern you’re all too familiar with.

But today marks the beginning of a new chapter, one that you’re determined to make the best of for both you and your daughter—once this marriage is finalized, you’ll be back to earning a steady income again.

A sigh escapes your lips as you focus back on Haru, her innocent eyes look up at you expectantly.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo,” you repeat, giving her a reassuring smile as you reach down to tie her shoelaces. “We’re going on an adventure today, just you and Mommy.”

“An adventure!” Haru cheers, clapping her hands in unbridled excitement.

Just as you pull the last loop tight, a knock reverberates through the front door, startling you. It’s unexpected, you weren’t anticipating any visitors.

With a deep breath, you twist the handle and pull the door open. The sight that greets you sends a cold wave of dread crashing over you, your heart pounding in your chest.

Speak of the devil—Naoya.

He has an uncanny knack for impeccable timing, always appearing when he’s least wanted.

His presence is as imposing as ever—a smirk crowned on his lips, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets—exuding an air of ownership over everything that’s around him.

As if he owns you.

Damn it. You really can’t deal with this right now; you don’t have the time. Satoru is expecting you, and you need to get moving.

Leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, he surveys you with that annoyingly smug expression plastered upon his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite girls," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The frustration you feel from Naoya is vastly different from what you experience with Satoru. With Satoru, it's harmless—like dealing with a mischievous child. But with Naoya, every sight of him makes you want to flee, as if each encounter is a battle you barely survive. He reopens old wounds that never truly healed, leaving you raw and exposed.

Every fiber of your being screams in protest at the sight of him, but you force yourself to maintain composure—refusing to let him see the effect he has on you.

"What do you want, Naoya? I really don’t have time for this today."

Turning away from him, you begin gathering the last of Haru’s things with brisk, precise movements, making it clear you have no intention of prolonging this interaction.

He steps inside, smirk widening with satisfaction and tone laced with mock concern.

"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you're managing. Got your message. Heard you were looking for a babysitter yesterday.”

As expected—you’re really kicking yourself for calling him. His false sympathy only heightens your irritation, grating on your nerves as the condescension drips from his words like venom.

If you weren’t already leaving, you would slam the door right in his smug face.

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to keep your tone steady, for no one other than Haru.

"We're fine, Naoya. We don’t need your help."

In hopes to end this conversation quickly, you grasp Haru’s hand and attempt to brush past him. But he sidesteps, effectively forbidding your path to the door, looming like an unwanted shadow.

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see. How’s that working out for you?” he scowls as he peers through your apartment, “This place is a mess. And you don’t look like you’re dressed for work. Lost your job already?”

His words hit a nerve, you feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"We are managing just fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily. His expression darkens, and as you repeatedly try to step past him, he halts you yet again, blocking your way like an insurmountable wall.

"And where exactly are you going? Shouldn't you be at work today?"

"That's none of your business. I really need to go," you retort, lifting your chin assertively as you force your way past him. Your shoulder brushes against his in a deliberate act of defiance.

The moment you cast him aside, he immediately pursues after—but choosing to ignore him, you close the door behind you, turning the lock with a decisive click.

As you start leading Haru towards the elevator, you adopt a brisk pace in hopes to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible.

But he raises an eyebrow, smirk widening as he traverses after you. You hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway of your apartment complex.

"Oh, I think it is my business. Especially when it concerns my daughter."

Oh, please.

It’s painfully ironic how he pretends to care about Haru only when it suits him.

After you served him child support papers, he had the audacity to demand a DNA test, claiming he needed ‘proof’ that Haru was his. Of course, something like that takes time for the judge to arrange.

He knew that damn well—it was just another ploy to delay the process further.

As anger bubbles up within you, a scoff escapes your lips, teetering on the edge of a bitter laugh.

"Oh, so she’s yours when it’s convenient for you. Don't pretend you care about Haru now. You’ve done nothing but make our lives difficult."

Your movements are sharp and frantic until you finally halt in front of the elevator. Just as you press the button to descend, Naoya’s presence descends over you—suffocating like a dark cloud, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.

"Maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, things wouldn’t be so difficult. You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask," the insincerity in his voice makes your skin crawl—as his words slither into your ears, each syllable is laced with a condescending edge.

You scoff, jabbing the button over and over again with mounting urgency. Can this damn elevator come any faster?

"Help? From you? I'd rather figure things out on my own than rely on your 'help'."

He steps closer, making you feel small and cornered. It’s a familiar tactic he would use to get his way—the accustomed sense of intimidation he used to exert over you returns, chilling your spine.

"Suit yourself. Just remember, you can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, you’ll realize you need me again,” his voice drops to a low, threatening whisper, the underlying menace making it clear that he relishes the control he still believes he has over you.

Suddenly, you feel small tiny hands gripping tightly onto your leg. Haru’s wide eyes dart between the two of you, her innocent face reflecting a nervous unease that she can’t fully understand—but you do.

Fuck it. Enough is enough. You can't let this continue any longer—screw the elevator.

With a determined breath, you scoop Haru into your arms, feeling her trembling slightly against you. "Come on, sweetie," you say softly.

Her tiny heart beats against your chest, mirroring your own anxiety. Holding her close, you immediately head towards the stairway, your stride quickening.

But Naoya's presence lingers, his footsteps echoing ominously after you.

“Really, Naoya?”

Oh, this is it. Your patience is wearing thin—he’s like a growth you can’t get rid of.

You feel Haru’s grip tighten around your neck as she buries her face into your shoulder. You have been trying desperately not to yell, for Haru’s sake, but at this point, Naoya is overstepping your boundaries.

“Just go away. The only thing I need from you is to hurry up and finish that damn DNA test,” you shout, refusing to look back as you head towards the stairs. “There was no reason for that bullshit; you know Haru is yours. I know you’re just trying to stall our court date,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and anger.

Naoya’s eyes gleam with a cold amusement, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a mocking smile.

"Stalling? Hardly. You’re insane, I just want to be thorough. You should understand that, being so meticulous yourself," he sneers, tone derisively sweet.

Finally, you reach the stairway—beginning your descent, Haru clings tightly to you as Pikachu dangles precariously from each hurried step.

"This conversation is over, Naoya,” your voice echoes in the narrow space. “Stay out of our lives. I only want to see you in court."

Naoya contemplates following you, lowering himself a few steps before abruptly stopping. As his voice reverberates through the stairwell, his unsettling demand bounces off the cold concrete walls, chilling you to your core.

"For now, y/n. But remember, this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. You always come crawling back to me one way or another. You’re incapable of anything without me."

There was a time when you believed those words, but you will not fall back into that same vicious cycle.

Choosing not to respond, your resolve is sharpened with one clear goal, getting Haru and yourself out of this building as quickly as possible.

The moment you clear through the lobby door, a shaky sigh escapes your lips. This day is already starting off with a bang—hopefully it goes much better at Satoru’s.

Forcing a smile for your frightened daughter, you try to mask the tears welling up in your eyes—the tremor in your voice quaking.

“Come on honey, let’s go meet Mr. Gojo.”

Time to get this marriage finalized.

ꨄ︎

You had expectations of what Satoru’s house would be like, but even those couldn’t hold a light to the real thing—it’s a stark contrast to the modest apartment you call home.

The meticulously manicured lawn, the pristine arcadian, and the large, ornate door all showcase opulence.

It’s far more luxurious than you had imagined, making you feel distinctly out of place as you step out of your car in your worn jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled up in a lazy bun.

Wait…should you have come dressed businesslike?

But you have Haru—was this supposed to be a professional meeting? Fuck.

On top of everything else, you’re already a few minutes late. Tardiness has become a tiresome trend in your life, one that exhausts you to your very core.

Traversing the entryway, Haru grips your hand tightly as you walk through the stone pathway. Her fingers tremble slightly, perhaps from the unsettling encounter with Naoya, or perhaps from the overwhelming new environment.

Nerves simmer through you once you approach the doorway, but you resolve to mask them. You weren’t going to let Naoya ruin your day—this meeting is your chance to retake control of your life.

As you reach out and press the doorbell, a soft melodic chime resonates, echoing through the spacious foyer beyond.

Within moments, the door swings open, revealing Satoru.

You immediately feel a sense of relief as you observe him dressed surprisingly casual—a fitted blue t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean frame, paired with dark jeans that hug his long legs. His snowy hair remains tousled in that effortlessly stylish way, framing his strikingly handsome face.

It’s impossible to advert your eyes as he greets you with that familiarly confident smile curling upon his lips, and those vivid blue eyes, enchanting you with an intriguing glint.

“Hm, late again, I see,” Satoru teases, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if wounded with an exaggerated sigh. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up. Here I was, thinking you might divorce me before we even get married—” he stops, lifting his brow as his gaze shifts to the small figure peeking out from behind your legs.

“Well, well, and who is this?”

Haru’s wide eyes are filled with curiosity and apprehension. She peeps out nervously, clutching her plushie’s worn, familiar fabric for comfort.

Satoru’s smile softens as he looks at the little girl, but a twinge of uncertainty tugs at him internally. Children were a mystery to him, their emotions and reactions unpredictable.

What should he say? How should he act?

A flicker of fear crosses his mind—what if he says the wrong thing and makes her cry?

Oh God…

The thought of dealing with a child's tears makes him feel out of his depth, a sensation he’s not accustomed to. Satoru finds himself in unfamiliar territory. He’s used to commanding rooms and negotiating high-stake deals, not interacting with shy children clutching stuffed toys.

But faking confidence has always worked in the business world, and he is determined to make a good impression now.

As you notice Haru’s uncertainty, you gently caress her head, delicately coaxing her out from behind your legs.

"It’s okay, sweetie. This is Mr. Gojo, can you say hi?"

There is an air about you—the gentle ease in your voice, the way you instinctively know how to comfort Haru. It stirs something within Satoru, something he can’t quite place.

All he knows it that now he really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

"I’m really sorry for bringing her along," you begin, tone earnest as you meet Satoru with an apologetic gaze. "I hope it’s okay. I just didn’t have anyone who could watch her today. But she’ll keep to herself during our meeting, I promise."

Satoru’s expression softens further as he looks at Haru, his uncertainty momentarily forgotten. She is so fragile, so docile. In her delicate features, he sees an uncanny resemblance to you—a small reflection of your strength and vulnerability intertwined.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he reassures softly. Crouching down to her level, his toothy smile is warm and inviting. “Hi there, I’m Satoru. What’s your name?”

Haru looks up at you for reassurance, her small hand tightening around your leg. Encouraged by your nod, she turns back to Satoru and whispers tentatively—

“Haru.”

Satoru grins, captivated by the softness and delicacy of Haru's voice. Though he is uncertain how to connect with a child. His mind races—

What do kids like?

What should he say next?

While his thoughts scramble, a spark of an idea forms the moment he observes Haru clutching Pikachu.

“Nice to meet you, Haru. Do you like Pokémon?”

Haru nods, her grip on the plushie relaxing slightly. There is a subtle warmth behind the apprehension in her eyes as she holds up her Pikachu toy to show Satoru.

“Yes, Pikachu.”

“Pikachu is pretty cool,” he lets out a contemplative hum as he tries to find common ground. A faint nostalgic smile plays on his features. “But you know, Digimon is even better. Have you ever heard of Agumon?”

Haru’s eyes widen with curiosity as she shakes her head, her interest clearly piqued.

Satoru’s inner child shines through—eyes sparkling with a genuine enthusiasm as his lips curl up into a grin. This is his chance to bridge the gap between them.

“Tell ya what, maybe we can watch some Digimon together sometime. How’s that sound?”

You feel Haru’s grip loosen on your leg. A faint smile touches her lips and a quiet giggle escapes as her initial shyness begins to slowly fade.

“Okay.”

There are many thoughts that come to your mind as you watch this interaction play out—the foremost being how unexpectedly gentle Satoru can be with kids. Something about him, that overconfident and sometimes arrogant man you’ve worked beside, feels different now. Almost likable.

Charming, even

But what you really can’t fathom the most is the image of a sophisticated billionaire engrossed in a kids’ cartoon. That concept alone is enough to make you suppress a laugh.

“You’re a fan of Digimon?” you raise an eyebrow.

Satoru stands up, brushing off his knees with a nonchalant shrug and a crooked smile.

“I used to watch it all the time growing up. Please, come in,” he ushers you inside the building, leading you down the grand hall.

Your breath hitches at the sight of the expansive foyer. The high ceiling, polished marble floors, and impressive chandelier casting a warm glow leave you speechless.

Following behind him, you find yourself studying Satoru’s confident strides—the movement of his back, his broad shoulders and the effortless air of authority he exudes. It’s a stark contrast to what you just witnessed moments ago with Haru.

But that alone makes him even more intriguing to you. Satoru can feel a bit like a wild card. Glimpses of tenderness hidden behind feigned aloofness—subtle playfulness followed by an exacting seriousness.

He keeps surprising you.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Digimon fan,” you remark as you follow behind him.

Satoru chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“Guilty as charged.”

You can’t help but notice the way he avoids your gaze—is he perhaps being… bashful?

Oh, this is rich.

You really would need an abundance of limbs to count on your hands the amount of times Satoru has given you shit—making your life a daily torture is his specialty after all. Perhaps that is why you couldn’t resist letting this opportunity pass up.

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that you have a secret stash of Digimon cards somewhere,” you snort.

Satoru lets out a contemplative hum.

“Well, I did have a pretty impressive collection back in the day. Who knows, maybe I still have them tucked away in a drawer somewhere.”

“Seriously?” you are unable to hide the amusement in your voice. “You, with a collection of Digimon cards? That’s something I’d pay to see.”

He rolls his eyes with a pout tugging on his lips.

“You’re enjoying this too much. Maybe I’ll dig them out for you one day. But only if you’re nice.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Me, nice to you? That’s a tall order.”

A faint chuckle leaves Satoru’s lips as the spacious foyer transitions into a grand hallway. Haru skips beside you, glancing up at Satoru with a newfound admiration.

The moment you reach a large set of intricately carved wooden doors, he pauses, turning to you with a reassuring smile before pushing them open.

Inside, a cozy yet sophisticated study awaits—shelves lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the room.

“Yo, Suguru,” he waves flippantly, “this is y/n and her daughter, Haru.”

Your eyes are met with a man seated behind the desk—a calm and composed air about him. He is strikingly beautiful, raven hair tied back into a bun with louse tousles framing his face. As he looks up from a stack of papers, his sharp yet gentle eyes focus on you and Haru. He rises, extending a hand with a polite smile.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” you shake his hand with a subtle nod.

The presence of another stranger causes Haru’s shyness to return as she hides behind your legs again—you kneel down, smoothing her hair gently.

“Haru,” you pull out a small bag of her favorite toys from your duffle bag, “why don’t you take a seat over there and play with your toys while Mommy talks with Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto?”

With a light nod, Haru takes the bag and settles into a comfortable armchair in the corner of the room—spreading out her treasures with a look of concentration.

You take a seat across from Suguru, with Satoru sinking into the chair beside you—posture relaxed and seemingly indifferent.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” Suguru leans forward, “I’ve drafted the marriage contract based on the discussions I’ve had with Satoru. I’ll walk you through the main points.”

Referencing the document upon the desk, he begins.

“Firstly, as you both know, the purpose of this marriage is strictly business-related with no romantic implications. Both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a committed relationship in public and professional settings.”

Okay, easy—right?

You nod, but in the corner of your eye you can see Satoru lounging back in his chair. The mild disinterest on his face and the nonchalant way he twirls a pen between his fingers makes you grit your teeth.

He carries a casual attitude—one you shouldn’t be surprised with at this point because it’s the same infuriating aura he brings to every business meeting. But in this case, it’s a stark contrast to the gravity of this conversation. Here you are, discussing marriage and he’s sitting here as if you’re determining what to eat for lunch.

Yup, nothing’s changed. He still aggravates the hell out of you.

“Next, the duration of the marriage is set for one year, starting from the date of signing,” Suguru continues. “There are provisions for extending or terminating the marriage early, should both parties agree.”

You absorb every word as you listen intently, but Satoru seems to be in his own world. It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes as you catch him leaning back further into his chair, now balancing it on two legs. He taps his pen against his lip thoughtfully—an indifferent expression plastered across his face.

Is he even listening?

Here you are, about to commit to a fake marriage for the sake of your job and your daughter, and Satoru looks like a bored child.

You shoot him a sideways glance, silently willing him to take this more seriously, but the moment he catches your eye he simply offers a lazy wink, making your blood boil even more.

Suguru, unfazed by Satoru's demeanor, continues outlining the contract.

“The financial arrangements are next…Satoru will include a monthly allowance to you, y/n, to cover personal and household expenses. Both parties will maintain separate bank accounts, and any joint financial decisions require mutual consent.”

You blink in surprise. A monthly allowance?

Though you had asked Satoru to cover child care, you weren’t expecting this level of financial support. Isn’t that a bit excessive?

“Wait, what?” you blurt out, unable to hide your astonishment. “A monthly allowance? For personal and household expenses?”

Satoru’s chair drops back onto all four legs with a soft thud as he leans forward, finally showing a hint of interest. He raises an eyebrow at your reaction, a lazy smile curling his lips.

“We wouldn’t want you or Haru to struggle, now, would we?”

His words sound almost considerate, but it’s the casual way he says them that makes you question his sincerity.

“Some might see you being my secretary as a conflict of interest now. You’ll still work beside me, but I can’t give you a formal salary for that role. Doing it this way ensures that all you have to worry about is playing your part. Besides,” he adds, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice, “what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support my wife?”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a wary look, trying to gauge his true intentions. It makes sense… but is he mocking you, or is this his way of showing genuine concern? With Satoru, it’s always hard to tell.

Suguru clears his throat, drawing your attention back to the contract.

“Moving on to the living arrangements, you will both reside in the marital home here.”

Satoru interrupts, tone almost too nonchalant as he leans back in his chair and lazily stretches, “I’ve already arranged for a moving company to pack your things in a few days. They’ll handle everything.”

You blink, the suddenness of it all sinking in.

“Huh?”

“Problem, sweetheart?”

“I... I didn’t realize I’d be moving in so… soon. What about my apartment? I have a lease, and breaking it will incur a penalty.”

He waves off your concern with a dismissive hand, leaning back further with hands casually behind his head.

“I’ll pay it. Consider it handled. No point in you staying there when you’re supposed to be living here.”

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his insouciant dismissal of what, to you, is a significant expense.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. We need to make this look legitimate, and that means living together. Consider it part of the arrangement.”

To him, solving problems with money seamed effortless.

To you, this isn’t just a contract; it’s a complete upheaval of your life.

You’re starting to really feel the difference in your two worlds.

The abruptness is a bit overwhelming, and yet, Satoru seems to handle it with the same ease he applies to all his business dealings.

It’s a bit unnerving. It’s not that you aren’t grateful, but you can’t help but wonder…does he pity you? See you as a charity act?

Suguru, sensing your hesitation, interjects your thoughts with a soothing tone,

“It’s important for appearances that you both share a residence. It solidifies the arrangement in the eyes of your colleagues and the public.”

You take a deep breath, nodding again. “Right, I understand.”

Suguru nods, making a note on the document.

“Good. Now, let’s move on to the responsibilities and obligations. You’re both expected to attend public and social functions, maintaining the façade of a loving marriage.”

Satoru who still remains leaned in his chair, now has his head tilted back, looking up towards the ceiling.

"Oh, and by the way," he begins, eyes flicking to you while his posture remains unmoved, "we'll be getting married at the courthouse tomorrow to make things official on paper. Our public ceremony will be a grand affair, but it will come later to keep the media satisfied and appease everyone."

Tomorrow?

You give a hesitant nod, absorbing the rapid pace at which your life is changing.

“Alright…tomorrow.”

Suguru flips to the next page, “In terms of termination, either party can initiate it with a 30-day notice. Grounds for early termination include breach of contract or mutual consent. Upon termination, Satoru will provide a one-time settlement payment to you, y/n.”

You blink as Suguru pushes the contract towards you, the settlement amount highlighted in bold. Did Satoru add a few extra zeros by mistake? That number can’t be correct, right?

You glance up at Satoru, who is now inspecting his nails with a look of utter boredom.

“Is this…correct?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru looks up, meeting your eyes with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, it’s correct. Consider it a thank you for playing along.”

You shake your head slightly, trying to wrap your mind around the figure. This settlement could change your life, secure Haru’s future, and give you the stability you’ve been desperately seeking.

You could pay off your medical bills for the childbirth, could go back to school. Hell, you could be free of Naoya, you wouldn’t need him or his money.

You narrow your eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity.

"And what’s the catch?”

Satoru chuckles, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Just think of it as me taking care of my...business partner."

Suguru clears his throat, glancing between the two of you.

“Well, there is one additional detail, y/n. The settlement is contingent on maintaining a favorable public image. Any actions or behaviors that damage Satoru’s reputation would result in the forfeiture of all financial support and settlement funds.”

You blink, the implications dawning on you. Ah, of course there would be a condition—you knew better than to think he was just being generous.

“So… I’m responsible for upholding your image? What does that even mean?”

Satoru’s crooked grin widens.

“It means no scandals, no controversies. You play the part of the perfect spouse, attend events, smile for the cameras, and keep any...personal indiscretions out of the spotlight. Simple enough, right?”

Your stomach churns as you realize the depth of his control—you thought you were escaping Naoya’s grasp, but it seems control is still a prevalent force in your life.

This isn’t just a marriage of convenience; it’s a binding agreement that keeps you in line with his public persona, ensuring that any slip-up on your part will have dire financial consequences.

A part of you can’t blame him, though. It makes sense for him to take extra precautions. The Gojos have always been in the public eye, and there have been countless rumors about Satoru's refusal to settle down.

“What if something happens that’s out of my control? What if someone tries to smear my name?”

Satoru’s eyes harden slightly, though his smile remains.

“We’ll handle that on a case-by-case basis. But let’s just say I have ways of managing the media. You just need to play your part, nothing more.”

The calculated control in his tone, juxtaposed with his unwavering smile, makes your skin prickle with unease. The room feels suddenly colder, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You thought you were stepping into a partnership, but now it feels like a performance where one wrong move could cost you dearly.

Suguru interjects, his tone professional.

“This clause is essential for protecting both your interests and Satoru’s. Maintaining a positive public image is crucial for the success of this arrangement and for avoiding any complications that could arise from negative publicity.”

You take a deep breath—this was a gamble. The settlement would secure Haru’s future, your future, but your every move would be scrutinized, and any misstep could strip away the stability you desperately needed.

Your eyes wander to Haru, quietly and innocently playing with her toys. For her sake, you were willing to play Satoru’s game, even if it meant living under the constant pressure of his expectations.

“Alright,” you say firmly. “I agree to the terms.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker with satisfaction and Suguru leans forward sliding a pen towards you both.

“Good. If you both agree to these terms, we can proceed with the signing.”

You observe Satoru as he reaches for the pen—he is back to that usual air of nonchalance; it is almost unsettling. He signs the document with a flourish, barely glancing at the terms, and you envy his composure.

When he hands you the pen, meeting your eyes with a confident smile, you hesitate for a second—then, with a determined snatch, you take the pen from his delicate hand.

Holding your breath, you press the pen to paper and sign your name in one fell swoop. Each stroke of the pen feels heavy, final, but also strangely empowering.

No turning back now.

ꨄ︎

The courthouse ceremony was as brief and impersonal as you expected.

Something about Haru witnessing you legally enter into a fake marriage just didn’t feel right—so you opted to leave her with Satoru’s nanny.

Standing in front of the judge, reciting vows, and signing the official documents felt more like a business transaction than a wedding.

Glancing at Satoru, you couldn't help but feel a bit solemn as you observed him, his expression as indifferent as ever.

This wasn't the fairy tale wedding you once dreamed of. There was no crowd, no rings, no romantic gestures—just a legal agreement with a pen on paper, binding you to him for the next year.

But then again, you knew that coming into this—it was never about romance or dreams; it was about survival and securing a future for Haru.

It was over as quickly as it began—just like that, the judge declared you husband and wife, immediately leaving you alone with Satoru right after.

Noticing your serious expression, Satoru leans in slightly as you gather the official documents.

"You look like you're attending a funeral, not a wedding Mrs. Gojo," his voice drips with playful mockery.

Hearing him call you ‘Mrs. Gojo’ sends a shiver down your spine. That was going to take some getting used to.

“And you look like you’re at a board meeting, not your wedding, Mr. Gojo,” you retort, unable to hide the underlying bite in your voice as your fingers shuffle through the pages.

A deep chuckle reverberates through the otherwise solemn atmosphere. Once you tuck the documents under your arm, you begin to make your way towards the exit. Satoru immediately falls into step beside you.

“Touché. But really, lighten up sweetheart. Gonna need to work harder to convince everyone you’re head over heels in love with me,” there’s a playful challenge in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“Well, forgive me for not swooning over this magical moment. You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my wedding day," you mutter, trying to mask the internal melancholy whirling within you.

When you reach for the door, Satoru beats you to it, holding it open with a flourish.

"Oh? And how did you picture it?” he raises an eyebrow as his eyes gleam in amusement, “Let me guess, lots of flowers, a big white dress, and some poor guy professing his undying love for you?"

Okay, screw him. He was really not making this any better. You feel the heat rise to your face as a scoff escapes your lips—the only response you will give him.

Brushing past him, your heels click against the polished floors through the marble halls of the courthouse. As you glance to the tall, ornate windows lining the corridor, the sunlight streams through, casting intricate patterns.

“Hmm, think I guessed right,” he chuckles as he saunters after you.

“And what if you did?” you snap, voice echoing in the grand space. “Is it so weird for me to want a normal family for my daughter?”

The teasing glint in his eyes dim as his expression softens slightly. Once you reach the elevator, Satoru presses the button—the two of you wait in an awkward silence.

The moment the elevator door slides open, you both step inside, the quiet hum of the machinery enveloping you.

“No, it’s not weird. It’s just... different from what I’ve ever thought about,” he says while he presses the button to the lobby.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the back of the elevator.

“What, Mr. Perfect never thought about settling down?”

Satoru's gaze drifts for a moment as he considers your question. The elevator begins its descent, the soft whirl filling the silence.

“Honestly? No, I never did. My father used to pressure me about it all the time. Wanted me to marry someone who could... 'enhance' our family’s status.” He was contemplative, and the echoes of old frustrations are clear in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden openness.

The rumors about Satoru had always painted him as a carefree bachelor, uninterested in the constraints of marriage.

Some said he was too focused on his career, while others whispered that he enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down. There were even speculations that he had a hidden lover, or perhaps he was waiting for the perfect match to come along, someone who could stand by his side both in business and in life.

“…and you never found anyone who fit the bill?”

He chuckles, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Plenty of candidates. None that I wanted to spend my life with. Plus, all those ‘suitable matches’ were just women trying to get their hands on the Gojo fortune. Most people just see the money and power. They don't see the person behind it.”

The vulnerability in his eyes is fleeting, and you realize that his father’s expectations must have weighed heavily on him. The pressure to find someone was not about love or companionship—it was about maintaining an image, a legacy. In a way, you both have been victims to control your entire lives.

As the depth of his frustrations become more apparent, you feel a pang of sympathy. It’s enough to make you wonder about the real Satoru. The elevator continues its descent, and you find yourself lingering on his words.

“That sounds... difficult. So why did you go through with this then? With me?”

His gaze softens; his expression thoughtful as he watches the numbers descending the floor levels. He tilts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Because you’re different. You didn’t come to me looking for wealth or status. You needed help, and I needed a solution. It’s honest, in a way. No hidden agendas, no false pretenses.”

A nervous flutter dances in your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the folder of documents in your hands. The softness in his words catch you off guard, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact.

A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“In a world where everyone wants something from me, I find your straightforwardness refreshing.”

Your heart skips as a warm blush creeps up your cheeks.

“I never thought you’d see it that way. I just... I wanted to do what was best for Haru.”

“And that’s what makes you different,” he replies softly. “You’re doing this for her, not for yourself. That’s why I agreed to this. Because I believe you’re sincere.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal the bustling courthouse lobby.

The weight of the conversation settles between you, a rare moment of vulnerability that made you see Satoru in a new light—a glimpse into his inner world.

The moment you near the courthouse door, you and Satoru push it open in an attempt to exit, but are immediately greeted by a barrage of flashing cameras and shouted questions. Paparazzi swarm around you, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere—how did they even know where to find you both?

Satoru, ever the master of public appearances, wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch is warm and firm, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his suit.

The sensation of his hand resting securely on your hip sends a tingle through your body, a fluttering in your stomach—you realize now that this is the first time he has touched you.

“Smile for the cameras, Mrs. Gojo,” he whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin.

You blink, heat rising to your face as you’re momentarily caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. But you quickly compose yourself, remembering the role you have to play.

Leaning into him slightly, you offer a shy smile to the cameras. The flashes intensify and the questions grow louder.

“Mr. Gojo why are you in a courthouse?”

“Mr. Gojo, what is the status of Gojo Corporation?”

“Who is this woman Mr. Gojo?”

“What is your statement on your father’s passing?”

As the paparazzi continue to snap photos and shout questions, Satoru leans down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips were soft, and the warmth of his breath burned your skin. The gesture, though small, sends a shiver down your spine.

It was all for show, you reminded yourself. Just part of the act.

Yet, the unexpected intimacy lingered, making it hard to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch.

Satoru’s kiss had worked perfectly, fueling the media frenzy. The paparazzi went wild at the tender action—camera flashes intensifying and voices growing louder. They call out more questions, desperate to capture every angle of the seemingly affectionate moment. You feel the eyes of the crowd boring into you.

“Let’s get out of here,” Satoru murmurs, voice low and soothing amidst the chaos.

He reaches out, hand warm and firm as he interlocks his fingers with yours, gently guiding you through the throng of reporters towards the waiting car. His other arm subtly shields you from the crowd.

As you finally break free from the mass of flashing cameras and shouting voices, you slide into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Satoru slides beside you immediately after.

Glancing back at the courthouse, the reality of your new life begins to sink in. Once the car pulls away, a breath escapes you—one you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

“That was... intense.”

Satoru chuckles, arm resting behind your shoulder. He tilts his head slightly, allowing a few tousles of white hair to fall into his eyes. Through the soft strands, his gaze meets yours, a mix of amusement and seriousness dancing in his striking blue eyes.

“Welcome to my world," he murmurs. "Better get used to it, sweetheart. This is just the beginning.”

ꨄ︎

The following day, a moving company arrived at your apartment as promised—they packed up your belongings with swift efficiency, leaving you feeling like a spectator in your own life.

Watching your life be boxed up and loaded into trucks was bittersweet—as your small apartment, with its familiar creaks and cracks, had been your safe haven.

Everything was arranged, down to the smallest detail. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself standing in the grand foyer of Satoru’s mansion once again, this time with all your worldly possessions.

Haru, wide-eyed and excited, clung to your side, her tiny fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Welcome to your new home," Satoru says with a grin.

It felt more like stepping into a palace than a home.

He reaches down and grabs one of your suitcases, lifting it effortlessly,

"Let me show you to our room."

You feel your face heat up instantly.

"Our room?" you stammer. "Why would we need to share a room when no one is here to watch this charade?"

Satoru's grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you. You have your own room. I just wanted to see your reaction."

You shoot him a glare, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.

“You're impossible," you mutter, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He chuckles, leading you up the grand staircase, and Haru follows closely, her eyes darting around in awe at the luxurious decor. The polished marble steps feel cool underneath you, and the ornate banisters gleam under the soft lighting.

"Come on, let me show you around." Satoru says as he leads the way down a long corridor.

The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and framed artwork, each piece more exquisite than the last.

Eventually, Satoru stops in front of a set of double doors, turning to you with a small, satisfied smile.

"Here we are."

He pushes them open to reveal a spacious bedroom. The room beautifully furnished, with a large bed, elegant drapes, and a balcony overlooking the manicured gardens below.

"This is your room," he announces, setting your suitcase down gently.

"Wow," you breathe.

It feels a bit overwhelming the moment you step foot inside. Haru, on the other hand, darts past you, exploring every nook and cranny with a delighted giggle. It was easily twice the size of your old apartment.

"This is beautiful... and a lot."

Satoru leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossing over his chest.

The soft light from the chandelier above casts a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His white hair, tousled just enough to seem effortlessly stylish, frames his face perfectly.

"Only the best for my... business partner," he says, tone light yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You offer a simple, "Thanks," but your voice is softer than you intended. Your eyes betray you, lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.

Satoru's eyes hold yours with a softness that catches you off guard—a striking shade of blue that seems almost ethereal. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice the intensity and warmth in his gaze, it’s almost tender, making you feel like anything but just a ‘business partner’.

Was he always this beautiful?

You can’t help but wonder, feeling a warmth spread through you as the silence stretches on. The moment feels strangely intimate, a connection forming that neither of you expected.

Crap. What are you thinking?

Haru’s giggle breaks the spell as she jumps on your bed.

"Oh, and just so you know," he adds with a playful glint in his eye, "my room is right next door. We share the bathroom, so try not to hog all the hot water."

You blink, surprised. "We have to share a bathroom?"

Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the bathroom door and peer inside.

It was equally impressive, with a large tub and walk-in shower, all in pristine condition. The fixtures gleam, and the marble countertop adds a touch of luxury. There was another door leading directly to Satoru’s room, a constant reminder of his proximity.

"Yep. Just think of it as our first test of marital bliss. Can we survive sharing a bathroom?" Satoru's voice was suddenly closer.

You turn to find him standing right behind you, having moved from his previous spot at the doorframe. The idea of sharing such a personal space with him was a bit unnerving. An awkwardly intimate setup for such a detached relationship, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"…I suppose I'll manage.”

Satoru laughs softly.

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, Haru's room is right across from us. She's got the best room in the house actually," he adds, tilting his head to the side as a cue for you to follow him.

Haru trails excitedly behind as you walk through the luxurious hallway, her giggles echo off the walls. Opening the door, you peek inside and are struck by the sheer extravagance of it.

The room was a child’s dream—decorated in soft pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in delicate lace, plush toys neatly arranged on shelves, and even a small play area complete with a dollhouse and a set of building blocks. The walls were adorned with whimsical murals of fairies and woodland creatures, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed straight out of a storybook.

Haru's delighted squeals bring a smile to your face, easing the last of your worries.

It was clear that Satoru had spared no expense in making her feel welcome. Each detail spoke of thoughtfulness and care, from the cozy reading nook to the vibrant rainbow-colored rug that added a playful touch to the room. How on earth did he pull all this off so quickly?

“Wow, look, Mama!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with joy, running inside to inspect her new haven.

A sense of relief washes over you as a tender smile forms upon your lips. At least Haru would be happy here. The sight of her so animated and cheerful makes the transition a bit easier to bear. Satoru stands beside you.

“I wanted her to feel at home," he says softly, eyes reflecting a rare sincerity.

“You've done more than that. She's ecstatic," you reply, watching Haru dive into a pile of stuffed animals with a gleeful laugh.

Satoru clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, the gesture uncharacteristically awkward. He glances at the clock on the wall, as if searching for an excuse to end the moment.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," his tone is gentle and almost hesitant. "Let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be ready soon, see you down there?”

His usual confidence is somewhat muted—you wonder, is it you? Haru?

"Yeah,” you nod, “I’m going to put a few of my things away and then we’ll meet you downstairs."

“Right. Take your time. There's no rush."

You can’t help but replay the interaction in your mind as you unpack the essentials from your suitcase. The awkwardness between you and Satoru would pass, you hope. For now, it was enough to know that Haru is happy and safe.

Haru’s laughter echoes from her room, a sound that brings a smile to your face. She seemed to be adjusting much faster than expected, her innocent joy undiminished by the upheaval.

And to you, her laughter solidified it—marrying Satoru, this was the right call.

ꨄ︎

The past few days living with Satoru had been a whirlwind of adjustments—it wasn’t without its challenges. The mansion, with its sprawling rooms and luxurious decor, is more like a museum than a home.

The sheer size makes you feel small and out of place at times, and the constant presence of staff make it difficult to find a moment of privacy.

Satoru, however, had been surprisingly considerate. He’s a constant reminder of the delicate balance you need to maintain—attentive yet reserved, playful yet serious, a paradox that kept you on edge.

Your interactions with Satoru had settled into a routine of polite, if somewhat distant, cohabitation. There were moments of unexpected tenderness, like when he had found you struggling to open a jar in the kitchen and had stepped in to help with a playful grin.

Another time, you had been overwhelmed while trying to assemble a new toy for Haru, and Satoru had quietly taken a seat beside you, helping to figure out the instructions without a word.

Yet despite these moments, there was always an underlying tension, a reminder of the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As the days passed, the impending charity gala loomed larger in your mind—the first public event you would attend together as a married couple.

Satoru had taken the time to sit down with you and discuss how you would present yourselves, a task that seemed daunting but necessary.

You agreed on the basics: stay close, exchange subtle touches, and share occasional whispers to create an air of intimacy. The plan was straightforward, but the execution would be another matter entirely.

He emphasized the importance of appearing united, offering tips on how to handle the media and the probing questions that were sure to come. His confidence and ease in handling the media was something you were learning to lean on, though the pressure of maintaining the charade weighed heavily on you.

“What about Haru?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“We’ll leave her out of the spotlight,” Satoru replied gently. “I don’t want to overwhelm her. She takes no part in this agreement beyond being your daughter. She’ll stay here with the nanny during the event.”

Amidst all this, your phone had been buzzing constantly with missed calls from Naoya. You hadn't answered any of them—maybe you should just call off the court case?

You did just go through a life changing event, marriage, and that often interferes with the legal process anyways. The judge would need to take into consideration your new source of income for the child support payments.

Honestly, you don’t need Naoya’s support anymore.

You’ll take care of that after the gala though—right now you already have too much on your plate, spending hours with Satoru, fabricating shared experiences and finding common ground to make your relationship believable.

The task of memorizing details about his likes and dislikes, his habits, and his quirks was daunting, but you found yourself surprised at the small details you were beginning to remember about him—the way he took his coffee, his favorite late-night snack, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly when he found something genuinely funny, or how he would absentmindedly run a hand through his tousled white hair when deep in thought.

As the days slipped by in a blur of preparations and rehearsed smiles, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this carefully constructed façade was starting to take on a life of its own. Each shared glance and each moment of unexpected kindness blurred the lines between reality and pretense, leaving you wondering just how deep this charade would go.

ꨄ︎

Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you adjust the luxurious dress Satoru had picked out for you. A deep, elegant blue fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, and the V-shaped open back that rests above your hips adds a touch of allure.

Loose cascading waves frame your face perfectly, and the professional makeup artist gave you a look that is both subtle and glamorous, enhancing your features in a way the felt natural yet striking.

You barely recognize yourself.

The transformation was astonishing, turning you from a frazzled single mother into a vision of sophistication and grace.

Was it too much? You feel out of sorts, like you’re wearing someone else's skin. The elegant image in the mirror is both thrilling and unnerving.

As you try to steady your racing heart, a knock on the bathroom door makes you jump slightly—Satoru’s door.

“Y/n you ready?” his voice calls out.

With a deep breath, you take one last look in the mirror. As you open the door, Satoru’s frame leans casually against the entryway.

The sleek black tuxedo he is adorned in highlights his broad shoulder and lean frame. His white hair is perfectly styled, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric.

He meets you with a stunned silence—eyes widening slightly as he takes you in. The cool blue of his irises seem more vibrant, gleaming with anticipation as they trace over your form.

You had never seen his eyes linger across your figure like this before—the intensity of his gaze makes your stomach flutter. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you fear what will come out of his mouth.

Does he think it’s too much?

“Wow,” he breathes, voice almost reverent. “You look... stunning.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," you say softly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

Satoru steps closer, eyes locked on you. He reaches out and gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Seriously, you look amazing. I knew the dress would look good on you, but this... you’re going to be the star of the gala,” a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Ready to knock them dead?”

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…hopefully I can live up to the part.”

“You will,” offering you his arm, he adds, “Just be yourself, and stay by my side, we’re in this together."

ꨄ︎

The ride to the gala is filled with a comfortable silence.

The city lights blur outside the window as the car smoothly navigates through the streets. You find yourself stealing glances at Satoru, admiring the way his profile looks in the dim light.

Strange.

The usually insufferable man seemed different tonight—steadfast, dependable, almost... comforting? Perhaps it’s the nerves.

His arm rests casually behind you, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, and you’re surprised yourself how it does not bother you—in fact, it’s actually quite soothing.

Once you arrive, the grand ballroom is a stunning sight. Chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

The room is filled with the city’s elite—a sea of luxurious gowns and tailored suits mingling and exchanging pleasantries. The sight of you and Satoru together was enough to turn heads, drawing curious and admiring glances.

But the sheer number of people, the pressure of playing your part, and the countless eyes watching your every move—it’s all a bit overwhelming. You really felt out of place here.

Sensing your unease, Satoru leans in close, breath warm against your ear.

“Remember, just follow my lead.”

Guiding you with ease, his hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you voyage through the attendees—the warm gentle touch is electric against your bare skin.

Your eyes skim through the herd of people and land on a waiter balancing a tray of champagne glasses. Perhaps a drink would ease your nerves? You don’t hesitate to grab a glass as you navigate the crowd.

Satoru, ever the socialite, seamlessly traverses the room, introducing you to important figures and engaging in small talk that you struggle to follow.

Discussions ranged from market trends and corporate mergers, to the latest charity galas and art exhibitions. Trying to keep up, you nod and smile at the appropriate moments.

It’s clear that Satoru is in his element—his charm, effortless. You find yourself admiring how easy he makes it all look.

As you cling to him, the pride in his eyes when he looks at you makes you feel like you belong, even if you are just playing a part in this elaborate charade.

The evening flowed smoothly enough, with your glass of champagne acting as a steady companion. The warmth of the alcohol helps you mingle with guests, exchange polite conversations, and stay close to Satoru, all as planned. But each interaction was a delicate dance—your smiles and nods masking the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

Honestly, your mind was elsewhere—there is an undercurrent of anxiety as you anticipate Satoru’s announcement on stage, where he would publicly acknowledge your marriage during his donation speech.

When the moment you had been dreading finally arrives, you settle into a chair near the front, heart pounding in your chest.

Satoru takes the stage with a natural grace, and as the spotlight illuminates his striking figure, his presence commands the attention of everyone in the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice resonating with a confident authority. “I want to thank you all for being here tonight. Your generosity and support make events like this possible.”

His words flow smoothly as he speaks eloquently about the cause and significance of the charity, each sentence perfectly crafted to engage and inspire—you marveled at his ability to enthrall people.

Pressing your champagne glass to your lips, you desperately hope the cool liquid can help to steady your nerves a bit more.

Then, the moment came.

“I will be donating ten million dollars to this charity,” Satoru announces, his voice carrying a conviction.

The amount causes a ripple of excitement and murmurs to spread through the crowd—you nearly choked on your champagne in shock.

Ten million?

You couldn’t even fathom having that much money, let alone donating it. The magnitude of Satoru’s status is staggering.

A smile tugs at Satoru’s lips—a genuine warmth mingling with the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pauses, letting the impact of his words settle, then lifts a finger to tap his chin contemplatively, as if he just remembered something.

“Or should I say, we will be donating—me and my lovely wife.”

Satoru gestures in your direction as a spotlight beams upon you. The crowd erupts into an enthusiastic applause, causing your heart to race the moment all eyes instantly turn to you.

There is a rush of heat that rises to your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of the alcohol. The weight of the crowd’s gaze makes your vision a bit blurry.

Beckoning you to join him on stage, Satoru extends his hand and offers a comforting smile. Though, the moment you stand, the room spins slightly—perhaps it’s from the champagne, or perhaps it’s the sheer pressure.

You can’t fuck this up.

With as much grace as you can muster, you make your way to the platform.

Satoru wraps an arm around your waist the moment you are at his side, pulling you close and steadying your trembling figure. He looks down into your eyes with a genuine look of endearment.

“Everyone, please welcome my beautiful wife, y/n,” he says softly in the microphone, his voice filled with a gentle pride.

The applause swells, and you manage a smile, trying to focus on Satoru while ignoring the spotlight’s heat and the intense gazes of attendees.

Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Despite the orchestrated nature of your relationship, in this moment, his genuine reassurance means everything. His presence is a steady anchor in the sea of faces and flashing cameras, the only thing holding you together right now.

When the applause dies down, Satoru continues his speech, the warmth of his hand remaining on your waist as his thumb traces soft circles.

You can barely focus on his words, the dizzying reality of where you’re standing feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

The moment Satoru’s speech concludes, the soft hum of conversation mingling and the delicate notes of the live orchestra begin to fill the air yet again. Satoru leads you off the stage, his hand never leaving your side.

Almost immediately after you descend to the floor, Satoru is approached by a business associate, his demeanor shifting effortlessly into that of a seasoned negotiator as they exchange discussions of market trends, potential collaborations, and strategic ventures.

Your heart is still pounding—public speaking was never your strong suit. Despite not needing to speak, being on that stage stirred something within you.

You recall a particularly disastrous presentation in college where you accidentally knocked over the projector, sending your notes flying across the room. The laughter from the audience still haunts you, and since then, you’ve always dreaded being the center of attention.

With Satoru engrossed in conversation, you seize the opportunity to make your way to the bar—seeking a moment of reprieve. Another drink wouldn’t hurt, right?

The gleaming rows of crystal glasses and various bottles of wine and spirits catch your eye. You scan the selection, your gaze lingering on a particularly rich, deep red wine.

Deciding it’s exactly what you need to steady your nerves, you signal the bartender and opt for a glass of the robust vintage, savoring the thought of its smooth, calming flavor.

One glass turned into two—your nerves finally beginning to settle as the soothing effects of the alcohol take over your senses.

Realizing you’ve been away from Satoru for quite some time, you prepare to rejoin him—but just as you start to rise, a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Naoya sneers, leaning against the bar beside you, a glass of scotch swirling in his hand. “Didn’t expect to see you here, mingling with the high society.”

A chill runs down your spine and you heart drops. No amount of alcohol could have prepared you for this moment.

“Naoya,” you stiffen, clutching your wine glass tighter. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a swig of his scotch, emptying the glass and placing it down on the counter with a loud clink. Leaning closer into your space, his eyes narrow—a cold, cynical stare boring into you.

“I could ask you the same thing. This doesn’t seem like your usual scene. What’s your angle?”

Your breath quickens and you feel your pulse hammering in your chest. Adverting your gaze, your fingers brush against the rim of your wine glass.

“I’m sure you heard, I’m here with my husband, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The sneer he meets you with makes the room suddenly feel smaller, as if his presence is suffocating you.

“Husband, huh?” his eyes rake over you with contempt suspicion, “Quite the leap from where you were a few weeks ago. Is this some kind of game to you?”

Summoning your courage, you straighten your back and meet his gaze head-on.

“Not a game, Naoya. It’s called moving on. You should try it sometime. My life is no longer any of your concern.”

Taking a step closer, he looms over you—his voice lowering to a menacing whisper.

“I don’t buy it. This whole charade… you think I don’t know what you’re trying to pull?”

For a moment, you are frozen in place, the fear and control Naoya exerts paralyzing you. Your mind races, the implications of his words sinking in.

What if he exposes you?

What if this carefully constructed facade comes crashing down?

Before you can respond, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you with practiced ease out of Naoya’s bubble and right beside Satoru.

“There you are, darling. Everything alright?”

His voice is smooth and warm, and his gaze flicks between you and Naoya, narrowing as he surveys the situation. The look on your face unsettles him—something feels off.

Naoya straightens himself, leaning against the bar with a supercilious smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, right?”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Satoru’s tone was light but laced with an underlying steel, “I’m y/n’s husband, Satoru Gojo.”

A scoff escapes Naoya as his eyes flash with irritation, but an unnerving smile remains upon his lips.

“Yes, I’ve heard. You certainly move fast, don’t you, y/n?”

Naoya can see right through you—you fell a flash of panic. Turning to Satoru, your eyes meet his with a silent plea for support. His expression softens and he gives you a reassuring nod while tightening his grip upon your waist.

“Well, when you know, you know,” Satoru says with a charming smile, “and we knew.”

Naoya snickers, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.

“Come on y/n. How did someone like you end up with someone like him? Seems... unlikely. You don’t belong here.”

Heat rises to your face and the sudden urge to shrink away overwhelms you—your heart dropping at the sting of Naoya’s words.

Suddenly, Satoru steps closer, creating a protective barrier between you and Naoya—the playful glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a cold, steely determination.

“Watch your mouth, you don’t get to talk to my wife like that.”

“I’m just stating the obvious,” Naoya shrugs, meeting Satoru’s glare with an indifference as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s out of her league here.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerously calm.

“If you think she’s out of her league, then you clearly don’t know her at all. You’re out of line. Y/n belongs here more than anyone. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, I suggest you move along.”

“Is that so?” Naoya raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. After all, you’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, Satoru Gojo.”

Panic seizes you as Naoya’s observation hangs in the air. The last thing you need is for him to start spreading rumors or causing trouble. You realize you have to do something, and fast. Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to convince Naoya of your authenticity.

Summoning all the courage you can muster, you step forward, threading your arms around Satoru’s neck as you rest your forehead against his own. Your words are addressed to Naoya, but your eyes remain on Satoru the entire time, drawing strength from his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch.

“Satoru and I... we chose each other for reasons that go beyond what you see. We may have our differences, but we’re stronger together, and we have a connection that you can’t comprehend.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, reflecting a silent understanding and a shared resolve—his breath mingling with yours.

Feeling Naoya’s probing gaze, you know he won’t be easily convinced, and so, acting on impulse, you pull Satoru closer and crash your lips against his.

For a moment, Satoru seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered closed, his hands moving to rest on your hips. The world around you seemed to fade away as the kiss lingered, heat pooling in your stomach.

It was supposed to be a quick peck, just enough to sell the act. But the moment your lips met his, something shifted.

Perhaps you were emboldened by the alcohol, perhaps it was the need to be convincing, perhaps it was the way Satoru stood up for you—without thinking, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, making things more intimate than you originally intended.

You can feel Satoru tense for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, with a soft hum against your mouth he melts into the kiss, a hand moving to cup your face as he returns the intimacy with unexpected fervor—his other hand encircling around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

Your fingers thread through Satoru’s hair and the world around you seems to fade away—the only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating off of Satoru’s body, the warmth of his lips against yours, and the lingering sweet taste of the gala’s chocolate cake mingling with the wine on your tongue.

It was a moment that felt both incredibly real and utterly surreal.

When you finally pull back, you are both breathless. As you catch a flicker of something unreadable in Satoru’s half lidded eyes, for a brief moment, you forget about Naoya completely, about the act, about everything except the electric connection between you both.

Satoru's thumb gently caresses your cheek, his gaze softening.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you peer over to Naoya—his smug expression had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and irritation.

“As you can see, we’re very happy together,” you say sweetly, rubbing your nose against Satoru’s.

"Didn't think you were the type to move on so quickly," Naoya sneers.

A wave of exhilaration and embarrassment course through you as Naoya retreats back into the crowd. The kiss had done its job, but it had also left you with a lingering sense of uncertainty. Satoru’s touch is still warm on your skin—you can still taste him on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his concern genuine.

The question pulls you out of your thoughts, but his gaze does the opposite—your face flushes and it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

"Yeah. I... I just needed to convince him.."

Satoru studies you momentarily—knowing there is more to the story with Naoya. But he also knows now isn’t the time to pry.

He chuckles softly, his hand lingering on your waist.

“Well, I think you succeeded. That was... unexpected. You really went for it there,” he murmurs.

For a moment, it felt like you were playing a role, but the feelings stirring inside you were anything but fake.

"I'm sorry," you swallow hard, face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."

“I didn’t mind,” he interjects, thumb brushing against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just so you know, you did great. Better than I expected,” his voice low and husky.

Fuck.

You blink—Naoya is gone, but here Satoru is, still holding you so intimately, so intently.

The way he looks at you, the warmth in his touch, the tone of his voice—it makes you question the lines between reality and pretense.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” Satoru hums, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. He leans in, his breath dancing on your lips, tantalizingly close. “But next time, let’s save the tongue for when we’re really alone, hm?”

What is he saying?

Your mind races, trying to decipher his words, his intentions. Was he still in character, or was there a hint of genuine desire in his eyes?

The electricity in the air was undeniable, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze—the crowd around you fading, their murmurs and whispers becoming a distant hum.

Satoru’s eyes held secrets you were desperate to uncover.

As you struggle to formulate your thoughts, Satoru’s hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along you jaw.

"Relax," he murmurs, "We're just putting on a show, remember?"

You nod, though your heart betrays you with its rapid pace.

“Right,” you whisper, forcing a smile. “Just a show.”

But deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that there was more to this act than either of you were willing to admit.

ahh i really enjoyed writing this chapter. okay, i was snickering at satoru's internal turmoil when he met haru for the first time. i couldn't resist with the digimon 🤭 my daughter is currently obsessed with pikachu so that's where that inspiration came from lol. also, this kiss was one of my favs to write 🥰 lemme know if you guys are interested in me making this a longer series. as always, thanks for reading 🫶🏻 → on to the next chapter ꨄ

taglist :

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer

@stevenknightmarc @maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@alwaysfreakingout @valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @evalynanne @tbzzluvr

@k1ttybean @yu22tas @sanriosatoru @ophelias-flowerss @spookysoowpprince

@luciledreamz @fortunatelyfurrygiver @meowforluv @arishaxml @zetianzz

@itzmeme @whodissbitj @kenmacantakemeaway @satoryaa

@kidd3ath @princessnai

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xxknockoutxx · 4 months ago

Text

Izuku

(this is just something to put out for fun but I take heavy inspiration from Glitched they're freaking amazing! I hope they are doing well ❤️‍🩹🥦)

It was another day of sitting at home without a care in the world. Waiting for your husband to come home, this was the one day where you weren't working or out doing chores. The giant house that you and your pro hero husband inhabited was so intimidatingly big, that seeing the house so quiet and empty kinda scared you but in a good way. Like a really secured way.

It wasn't all that lonely I suppose with your husband texting you every once and in a while with memes or compliments or how much he misses you. He's gotten the hang of One for All and is the number 1 hero. All this sounds pretty good for you guys but it's not...

The stronger your hunk of a husband gets, the longer he'll be working and that means less time for you too. This was probably the 3rd day he'd been vacant from the house this week so you were tired of it. I mean who wouldn't be?

I'm just gonna have to make him forget work when he comes back. you thought. Sure it was a lot easier said than done but you are Y/-fuckin-N! Ain't nobody or nothing gonna stop you from getting what you want✨

*Bzzz* Your phone buzzes and you find out it's your husband.

🥦My hero🥦: Hey baby I got some good news! 😁

I'll be home either tonight or next morning! I can't wait to see my precious little Bunny💚

Your heart swelled as you read the text you eagerly texted him back showing your excitement before going back to brainstorming. Shit.... Now you're on a time limit. With little time you began thinking about a dinner; one with a huge table full of different foods and of course dessert but will that be enough for your busy husband to stay home?

Annoyed and stressed, you just focus on that one thing, preparing food. You walked into the kitchen and searched the full fridge for things to cook. thankfully you had the ingredients to try some viral recipe you saw on Pinterest.

After cooking and laying everything out on the table you decided to change into something more anticipating you changed into some tiny pajamas and black lingerie under it. Surely it would do something to him to see those thin, black and green panties.

"Bun! I'm home!" Your heart froze up before running to the front door and hugging and kissing the breath out of Izuku.

"baby! Hiii" "Hey bun... You look so....- He takes in the way that the shirt you were wearing hugs your curves. The way that it just barely shows the outline of your hardening nipples. —Good..."

"I made you a little sumthin-" You help him put his stuff down and drag him towards the kitchen. This food is gonna be so fucking good that he's gonna eat this and then eat me- wait.

As Izuku takes a seat and looks in awe at all the food on the table. After working 22 hour shifts for 3 days straight you get kinda hungry. He waited for you to be seated as you walked to the table with his plate of healthy servings.

"thank you so much, Bunny. I love you."

You smile and join him at the table, in your rightful chair or throne rather; Izuku's lap.

He begins to chow down on all of his food rather quickly, while spouting his compliments about you and the food. "Wow this is so good, Bun" and "You look so pretty today" and "Did you get all dolled up for me?"

At the end of the meal you carefully bring him upstairs and take off his hero gear. Making sure to be slow and to add a sway to your movements. At this point Izuku's eyes were lidded and he still had that same smile of adoration but it seemed almost suspecting.

You pushed him back on the bed and slowly took off the pajamas. (Deku merch obviously) Under it you had your dark green and black lingerie.

"wow.. you were ready for me, weren't you bun?"

He cups your cheek and pulls you onto his lap. You feel his warm, calloused hand touch your face as a familiar sensation of Izuku's bulge rubbing against your sweet spot.

You lean in for a kiss and start playing with the zipper on his hero suit pants. As you do he slips a hand on your waist and deepens the kiss while helping you loosen his pants and takes off his suit.

"lemme help you with that bun..."

✩.･*:｡≻─────────── ⋆♡⋆ ───────────.•*:｡✩

"F-fuck! Wait! Izu...." Of course after working for so long and so hard your husband is gonna be a little pent up. Not being able to come home to see his pretty, loyal wife. The only way to solve that? A fucking mating press. Nothing can compare to the satisfaction of a good fucking. Especially passionate, rough and deep sex.

I mean if you aren't screaming his name at the end is it even considered a good fucking? Clearly he isn't putting in enough effort if you give him a reaction that's anything less than a moan of his name, unintelligible mumbles, or praises. So he'll go for a couple hours. Maybe he'll be satisfied after a few positions, some breeding, and marking. Just to make sure you know you're his.

And right after he would take a shower with you cuddle with you and make sure you were at 100 percent and then only then would he go to sleep with you in his arms. An unbreakable grasp.

Then he'll do the same thing next week.

⏤͟͟͞͞☆𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #black reader #izuku midoriya #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku midoria x reader #mha izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha izuku #izuku x reader #!black reader #mha x black female reader #glitched

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heytheredelulu · 9 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #winter soldier x plus size reader #avengers fanfiction

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allfearstofallto · 11 months ago

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Where I think their darling is from + How they met them - headcanon drabbles

Yandere! Scaramouche, Diluc, Ayato (separate) x reader.

AN: I couldn't think of one for Childe, but spoilers, I think his darling is from Liyue. I'm also writing a full fic based on Ayato's section, just putting on the finishing touches!

Scaramouche -

A Drunk from Mondstadt

The city of freedom. A cute name. A lying name. He knew better than to think there was such a thing as actual freedom, but if it helped the drunken residents sleep at night to believe that, then so be it.

Missions to Mondstadt were short work for him. Partially because he was one of the few Fatui who didn't want to stop and take a drink or enjoy the scenery and “freeing wind” as they called it. He’d rather get things over with and just go home.

“Free samples! Free samples!” That was another thing he hated about Mondstadt. It was constantly noisy. Whether it be advertisements or the people themselves, the city was never quiet.

“Would you care for a sample?” He wanted to ignore you and just walk past, but of course you had to call him out personally. He scoffed and shot you a glare, something that would make most people tremble, but you didn't even flinch. Were you dumb? Or just plain ignorant, either way he didn't see your future as being very bright.

“Wow, you're very angry. Maybe you need two samples,” you reached over to the table next to you and handed him two cups. A sickly sweet smell hit his nostrils and he resisted the urge to gag, “It's a new mead recipe, including this season's fresh fruit. A very popular flavor, I designed the recipe myself.”

He raised an eyebrow at what you said? The hopeful look in your eye made him actually want to drink this sugar concoction. Pure anticipation on your face, a look that was normally annoying to him, but he found your hopefulness rather charming. Cute even.

Scaramouche eyed the cup for a second longer. Then brought it up to his lips. Disgusting. It was absolutely disgusting. That syrupy sweetness coating his tongue damn near induced vomiting, but he held back any emotions. The only pleasant part of the entire drink was the bitter liquor aftertaste.

“So?” You asked. There was a sparkle in your eyes like a gem, he felt himself falter, a feeling he hadn't felt in years. He wanted to be soft to you.

“It's good,” he muttered, a bold face lie of he'd ever told one before, but you seemed to believe it.

“Thank you, sir!” You exclaimed and he could help, but to partially match your smile.

As you continued to talk and recommend wines and beers to try, he barely listened, but he couldn't walk away. The eccentric way you spoke and moved had a hold on him. He wanted that at home with him. Maybe Mondstadt wouldn't be so bad to visit again after all.

Diluc -

A Scholar from Sumeru

Diluc’s mornings consisted of walking around the vineyard, checking on the grapes, and pulling away any that weren't purely perfect. It was a job that started long before the sun even rose and only ended right before the winery opened.

The day looked average. Nothing too out of place. Nothing except for you. With the way you were crouched so still, he almost didn't notice you, your unmoving form practically making you blend in with a bush of grapes. But there you were. Dressed from head to toe in the green Akademiya garbs, he hadn't seen a scholar outside of Sumeru in some time.

“You're quite a long way from home,” he finally spoke to you, crossing his arms to make himself look more intimidating, “And you're trespassing. The winery doesn't open for another four hours,”

You finally turned your head to look up at him with a look of confusion on your face, “But I'm not here for wine?” You said, tilting your head to the side. Finally you stood, picking something up that was next to you. A small notebook, an obvious accessory for a scholar, “I'm here for the grapes.”

One of Diluc’s red eyebrows raised in confusion, “We don't just sell the grapes,”

“I know that!” You laughed like he said something truly funny, even lightly hitting him on the shoulder. Your strike felt no heavier than a feather's touch against his built shoulder, “I'm studying them. Wine from Mondstadt is known to have the best taste, and I'm researching that.”

“By trespassing?”

“By studying your grapes. Good wine starts with its grapes,” you affirmed. You opened your notebook in front of him to show him doodles and notes that you’d written, all actually pertaining to grapes. So you actually weren't lying.

A small smile formed on his lips. It was like it was forced out of him. You were truly passionate about what you were doing, even if it was something as mundane as the grapes that went into wine.

“How about you study the grapes when the sun is up? I have a spare room in the manor that you could use,” Diluc wasn't one to shy away from kindness, but normally staying a night in the manor costs more than a few fun drawings and a charismatic character, but he felt himself falling into an ease around you.

“Could I? Really? Thank you,” You followed him as he led you up the steps to the manor. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he still let one of his hands fall and hold your waist as you walked up the stairs.

He was attracted to you, yes, his red eyes couldn't seem to leave your face as you talked on and on, but the hand wasn't placed there because of that. He wanted to make absolutely sure that you wouldn't stumble, like he didn't trust you not to trip and fall over your own feet.

If you noticed the hand, you didn't say anything and as the two of you walked into the manor together, the idea tickled his mind of never allowing you to leave.

Ayato -

a sneak thief from Inazuma

What you were doing was bases to have you killed. He wondered if you knew that. If you did then you were even more bold for doing it.

The maids in the Kamisato estate all had the same face to him. Obviously, they looked different, but remembering their faces and names wasn't too important to him. All that mattered was that they worked.

And worked you did, diligently at that, until all eyes were off of you. The first time he saw you do it, he thought he'd misunderstood. Obviously, you didn't notice that he was there, so when you took a silver teaspoon off of the tray, and dropped it into the sleeve of your obi, his eyes went wide.

He thought that it was a one time occurrence, that maybe he caught you when you were truly desperate. But then you did it again. And again. And again. You were outright stealing from the Kamisato estate, whilst being one of his loyal employees. And yet somehow he couldn't find it in himself to be angry about it.

Your brazen display of disrespect towards the Kamisato name was honestly a little refreshing. Yes, you still bowed when he approached you and referred to him by proper honorifics, but to know that right under his nose, you were still taking from him, that thought was rather thrilling.

While you thought you were being stealthy, and in truth you were. Your sleight of hands was one to be reckoned with. You were good, but not good enough for him to not notice. What you were doing was something you could be killed for. Treason. Blasphemy even. And he fawned over how he could use that against you.

#genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere diluc #yandere ayato #yandere diluc x reader #yandere ayato x reader

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seungkw1 · 11 months ago

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movie night — bsk

♡ pairing: boyfriend!seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], pwp ♡ wc: 1.4k ♡ warnings: swearing, oral (m. receiving), dry humping, dacryphilia, size kink if you squint, petnames (m. & f. receiving - baby)

BOOOOOM.

The sound effects of the CGI explosion on the screen fills the room. You’re on the couch with your boyfriend watching a mediocre action movie that you can clearly tell neither of you are very into. You’ve been snuggled up next to him the whole time - your favorite place to be. But, you did not anticipate becoming this horny.

You’ve been dating Seungkwan for about a month, and he’s been nothing but wonderful. You’re both enamored with each other, but you agreed to take it slow. Let things happen when they happen naturally.

And apparently, tonight was the night.

It started innocently enough. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, he turned toward you out of nowhere to kiss you on the cheek. That part was completely fine, just your boyfriend being sweet as usual. The problem was his other hand that he decided to place on your thigh, his long fingers sliding between your legs. He left his hand there, softly rubbing your thigh with his thumb as he resumed watching the movie. Not even realizing that he was inches away from your cunt. Not even realizing how much he was making your clit throb.

But now it’s all you can focus on. You feel the heat building between your legs, your heart rate starting to increase as your pussy becomes wetter and wetter by the minute. You want him so bad right now.

You’ve been doing your best not to squirm in your seat at Seungkwan’s touch, but you feel like you’re going to explode if you try to hold it in any longer. Shifting slightly, you reach your arm across your body and lay it unsuspectingly on his stomach. Right above the waist of his pants. Right above the waist of his thin gray sweatpants that are driving you absolutely insane. All you can think about is his cock - you want so badly just to reach down, to touch it. To feel its weight through the fabric. The fabric that is doing jack fucking shit to hide its shape resting between his thighs as he sits comfortably with his legs spread just the right amount. You keep stealing glances down toward his crotch, wanting to grab his cock - fantasizing about how it would feel in your hand, your mouth, your pussy.

Your mouth watering at this point, you realize the movie has ended as Seungkwan stretches in his seat.

“What did you think?” he asks as he turns to face you. His soft round cheeks look so incredibly kissable, his big brown eyes looking at you with so much adoration in them.

“I’m gonna be so honest right now, I barely could pay attention to it,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Wow, that bad huh?”

“I mean…” you start. The expression on his face barely changes, but you can tell he’s curious about what you’re about to say.

“The movie was fine, I was just distracted by you.”

He tries to hide his smile. “How so?” he inquires playfully as he leans in and swiftly plants a kiss on your lips.

You hesitate slightly, but another quick glance downward tells you he also is getting very turned on right now.

You reciprocate the touch on the thigh, your hand caressing inwards, resting barely below his bulge. Seungkwan inhales sharply at the sensation, his body tensing; your fingers feel the fabric of his pants grow even more taut.

He stares at you, the expression on his face shifting from love to lust.

He reaches and grabs your hand, guiding it to his clothed cock. He lets out a low groan as you feel him. It’s heavier than you expected - you squeeze your hand softly around its width, feeling it grow harder.

Seungkwan is in heaven - and you’ve barely even touched him. He’s practically licking his lips. You make your next move: you take his hand, guiding it under the elastic band of your comfy pajama pants. He gasps as you press his fingers to your underwear, feeling how incredibly wet your pussy is through the thin fabric. You let out a soft whimper as his fingertips graze your clit. Your cunt is absolutely throbbing at this point, begging to be touched, to be eaten, to be fucked.

Your boyfriend kisses you - making out with you like never before, your tongues pushing into each other's mouths, both devouring the other. He circles over your clit through your soaked underwear - gently, but still enough to drive you fucking crazy.

He tugs at your waistband - you instantly slide your pants and underwear off in one go. You swing your leg over Seungkwan’s lap, straddling him as your bare pussy presses against his clothed bulge. You cry out, the sensation providing your desperate cunt some relief - but you crave more.

You begin to grind against his hardened cock. Seungkwan moans in symphony with you as you both are overwhelmed with pleasure. The wetness of your pussy is all over his pants - the light gray fabric darkened by your arousal. Your hips rock faster and faster as the burning sensation in your abdomen grows hot.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Cum for me, baby,” Seungkwan says breathily as his large hands grasp your hips, pushing you harder onto his cock as you start to cum. Your body shakes as you reach your orgasm, clinging onto your boyfriend as you ride out your high - cries of ecstasy filling the room.

You collapse onto him as you come down, your arms wrapped around him, your face buried in his neck. He rubs your back as you take a moment to recover, your chest rising and falling against his in deep breaths.

Once you recuperate, you raise your head and touch your nose to his. You let out a giggle before kissing him slowly. Seungkwan wraps his arms around your torso, squeezing you against him tightly - making it impossible to ignore the hardness of his cock pressing into your core. One more kiss, and then you slide yourself off his lap, kneeling on the ground before him. The protrusion in his gray sweats sits before you, its size accentuated by the large wet spot you created. You pull down the waistband of his pants and reach into his underwear, wrapping your hand around his cock as you pull it out. He groans as you slowly pump up and down its length, precum already leaking from his tip. You take the tip in your mouth, tasting his juices as you continue stroking his cock. You look up at him as your tongue licks his entire length - he nearly whimpers at the sensation, his eyes begging you for more. You oblige, taking him in your mouth, swallowing every inch of him - causing him to let out a moan as his eyes close, laying his head back onto the couch.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, that feels so good baby,” he praises as he gently rests his hand on your head, applying the lightest of pressure. You begin to slide your mouth up and down, his cock hitting you in the back of the throat with each stroke. Your eyes water as you choke on him, tears beginning to fall, but you love it.

Seungkwan begins to push down on your head a bit more. You increase your pace, gagging as you swallow his entire cock with each motion - but this only causes him to push down even harder. His hips start bucking as his moans grow louder.

“I’m so close,” he groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

His cock pulsates in your mouth, white ropes filling your throat as he thrusts his hips into you. His hand relaxes against your head as he comes down, stroking your hair softly as he sinks into the couch. You slowly pull his cock out of your mouth, making sure you swallow every last drop of his cum.

You climb back up onto the couch, straddling his lap once again as you kiss all over his cheeks, making him giggle. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight, the warmth radiating from your bodies making you feel extra cozy.

He lets out a contented sigh. “Well that was fun,” he finally says. You laugh out loud.

“Yeah, I think I could get used to that.”

He pulls his head back, staring lovingly into your eyes. He goes to say something, but pauses.

“What?” you ask him with a soft smile.

You feel him push his hips up, rubbing his spit-covered cock against your core, making your cunt pulsate again. He smirks back at you.

“Wanna go for round two?”

[end]

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#boo seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan smut #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan fics #svt fics #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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starrylothcat · 1 year ago

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Craving

Summary: Hunter sees you in a dress and doesn’t know how long he can wait to get his hands on you.

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. 18+. Smut, PiV, cunnilingus. Established relationship. Hunter being horny.

Word Count: 3500

Author’s Note: Wow this took me way longer than anticipated to finish! This is a spiritual successor to my Crosshair fic Handful. There was a dear anon who requested this (awhile ago, I’m sorry it took me awhile haha).

Please enjoy Hunter being horny over reader in a dress. Once again, this takes place on Pabu where everyone is happy. It’s what they all deserve, dammit! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy. 💛

Hunter was suffering. He was absolutely, positively suffering.

His grip on the supply container was faltering, his eyes transfixed on you at the end of the dock.

Hunter was supposed to be helping Wrecker haul supplies from the dock to where the festival was being set up, but he hadn't made much progress, or any at all.

You were wearing a new dress, one that immediately resulted in all of Hunter’s senses going haywire when he saw you in it earlier in the day.

You had emerged from the bedroom adorned in the lightweight sundress, rushing out the door with Omega to meet Phee at the docks to help with setup.

You had volunteered to help Phee and Shep put on a cultural festival, taking on most of the organizational tasks, so you’ve been busy the last week with last-minute setup duties.

Games, food, performances, it was going to have all the works. You wanted it to be perfect for everyone, and today was the day.

You kissed him quickly on the lips, saying you’d see him later.

Before he could even respond or compliment the new clothing, you and Omega were gone.

Hunter was left with the image of your backside jiggling under the flimsy, short dress as you shut the front door of your shared bungalow behind you.

Your shoulders and neck were completely exposed, thighs on full display. Thighs that he already knew were going to be wrapped around his head later that evening.

How you looked in that split-second has been replaying in his brain all day, waiting for the moment he can get you alone, thinking of all the delicious cries he’ll pull from your plump lips as he pleasures you beyond comprehension.

He needed to feel you under his hands and see how much more of you he can get to jiggle under that dress. Hunter needed to trace your curves and peel back the thin material inch by inch, tasting and worshiping every centimeter of your body.

“Hunter, ya need help?” Wrecker stepped in front of him, blocking Hunter’s view of you, interrupting his fantasy.

Hunter blinked, coming back to reality.

Wrecker had easily hauled his share of supplies and Hunter’s pile was almost untouched.

“Oh yeah, sorry. I’m just a bit distracted today.” Hunter huffed as he lifted the crate fully. Wrecker grabbed a few more, precariously balancing them in his arms.

“Heh, I’m excited about the festival, too!” Wrecker smiled, assuming Hunter was distracted for other reasons.

“Everyone has been working hard to make it happen. I heard there’s going to be LOTS of good food!” Hunter nodded, half-listening while watching you out of the corner of his eye.

You were inspecting a crate of unfamiliar-looking fruits, making sure they were acceptable to sell at the festival.

A slight breeze coming off the sea was rustling your dress, lifting the hem and exposing more of your thighs, giving Hunter another view that made his body burn under the already hot sun.

Hunter swallowed thickly, feeling sweaty as he walked with Wrecker, thinking he might not be able to wait until after the festival to have his way with you.

The sun was setting over the calm ocean, a full moon peeking out from behind clouds, stars blinking into existence as the sky turned a deep purple.

The festival was in full swing, laugher, music, and mouth-watering scents hanging in the air. Hunter barely had a chance to talk to you all day, since you were busy making sure the festival was going according to plan.

As he walked through the crowd, he spotted Crosshair with Omega at one of the game booths, while Wrecker was chatting up one of the food vendors.

Tech was with Phee, trying to explain in excruciating detail the significance of a cultural dance that was being performed.

Echo was sharing wine with a local artist, admiring their paintings, though his eyes were mostly admiring the artist.

Hunter smiled to himself, pleased to see his family just be…happy.

Comfortable.

Ordinary.

Hunter never imagined himself settling down anywhere with anyone. Yet here he was, with you, the love of his life, and Omega, who now has stability and can be the child she deserved to be.

Ever since you all decided to settle on Pabu, you immersed yourself with the people of the island, often helping Phee in the museum, cataloging artifacts, and helping newcomers settle into their new lives.

Hunter was proud of you, seeing how much work and energy you put into making this festival happen and knew how much it meant to you for it to be successful.

Hunter was scanning the crowd, trying to find you. You were still busy, running around and making sure all the festival-goers were satisfied.

You needed to remember to enjoy yourself, too, and Hunter was going to make sure of that.

Hunter grabbed two cups of wine, finally finding you in the crowd.

You were speaking with some musicians who were about to begin their performance, making sure they started on time to ensure the performers after them stayed on schedule.

Hunter couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful you looked in the setting sun, his heart swelling at how lucky he was to have you. Something else began to swell in his pants, watching your hips sway under the silky looking dress material. You were still wearing the dress from earlier, his fantasy not forgotten.

You heard your name, turned, and saw Hunter walk toward you, holding the wine.

You excused yourself from the musicians, realizing you hadn’t seen him all day. You felt a little guilty, smiling as he approached you.

“Everything going okay, mesh’la?”

You nodded, taking the wine you realized you needed.

“Yes, even though I just had to tell Crosshair to cool it on the ring-tossing game. You won’t believe how many stuffed tookas Omega has now…”

Hunter chuckled as he kissed your temple, his arm coming around your lower back, bringing you in close.

“Everyone is having a good time…do you have time to take a break? I’ve missed you today.”

You let out a soft sigh. “I know…you know how I can get. I just wanted tonight to go perfectly for everyone.”

You sipped the sweet wine, watching Hunter’s eyes darken as he pulled away, his eyes roaming your form.

“It is, I promise. You should be proud of yourself for organizing this. I’m proud of you.”

You smiled at his words, feeling his hand ghost across the top of your ass. “Thank you, Hunter. I feel like I owe it to the people here for accepting us so quickly.” Hunter nodded in agreement, still subtly feeling up your ass.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch the performance, but I think you have something else on your mind.” You raised your eyebrows at him, seeing a familiar glint of need in his eyes.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you how irresistible you look in this dress.” His voice dropped an octave into a smokey whisper as his lips brushed over your earlobe. “I’d love to show you…if you have the time.”

Hunter moved his arm from your waist, running his hand down your side, lightly pinching at your hip, feeling the fabric between his fingertips.

Kriff, it was softer than he imagined. Hunter’s hungry eyes met yours, and you knew what he was thinking.

You sipped your wine, a coy smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you. I was hoping you’d like it. I think I do have time for a break.”

You traced your hand over his chest, throwing him a devilish look. Hunter took that as a yes, quickly taking the wine from you and setting both your cups down.

He took your arm, leading you through the crowd until you were on the outskirts of the activities. You quickly walked down an empty corridor, the sounds of the celebration fading.

Mesh’la…” He growled in your ear as he led you down an empty alleyway, smelling the wine on his breath.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer…to show you how good you look.” His dexterous fingers slid up your body, the flimsy material of the dress exciting him, knowing what lays beneath.

You shuddered as he licked your earlobe, gently taking it into his mouth before lightly dragging his canines ran down your neck.

You were trying to stay quiet, but his alluring utterances and touches forced whimpers to leave your lips.

“I need you.” His voice was ragged, breathing in the sweet arousal on your skin, mixing with the salty twilight air.

You grasped his wide shoulders as he nipped and sucked at your skin, feeling his cock harden against your stomach. You let out a whine at the sensation, your own need growing intensely.

“Can you feel what you do to me?” He husked, pulling away and looking directly into your eyes. “Every since I saw you this morning, I’ve been wanting to fuck you in this dress.” You could feel how wet your panties were now, realizing how turned on he was by your outfit.

Hunter’s lips were on yours, vigorous and all-consuming. Your knees buckled at his eager kiss as he slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

“H-Hunter someone could see…” you broke away from his impassioned kiss momentarily, realizing how hot and heavy you were getting in the alleyway. His chest reverberated with a deep laugh.

“Let them see - let them see how lucky I am to have someone like you…” his lips were on you again, this time his large hands slipping over your ass, giving a hearty squeeze that made you squeal.

Hunter’s grip slipped under your thighs, hauling you up and pressing you into the wall. Your arms flew around his neck for purchase, his groin pressing hotly into your center.

“But maybe it’s time to head home, what do you think?” He sucked on your collarbone, kissing up to your bare shoulder, nibbling and sucking as he went. “We have the place to ourselves, let’s make good use of it, hm? I’ve been biding my time to get you alone.”

You nodded, remembering Omega was spending the night with Lyana after the festival.

“I don’t think we’ll be missed, we won’t be gone for too long…” Hunter stopped, waiting for your answer.

You slid your palm down to his crotch, rubbing his painfully hard length through his pants, giving him your answer. “I suppose I can reward you for your patience.” You purred, palming him slowly. “I won’t make you wait any longer.”

The second you got through the front door, Hunter was all over you. His hands roamed, bunching up the fabric of your dress, sliding up your thighs, over your hips, and squeezing your breasts through the dress.

Goosebumps erupted all over your hot skin, even in the tropical Pabu air.

Craving burned hot in your veins, your nails digging into his wavy locks. You tugged lightly, causing him to groan against your mouth, knowing he liked it when you pulled at his hair.

You don’t remember when he removed your panties and bra, or how you got on the bed, but now he was hovering over you, his clothes discarded.

A predatory look flashed in his eyes as he took all of you in beneath him.

The way the dress hugged your features, leaving little to the imagination, set his senses ablaze.

He could see your hard nipples poking through the dress, your delicious curves highlighted almost sinfully as you gazed up at him, the same want in your eyes as was in his.

The feeling of the soft fabric was maddening, greedily grabbing fistfuls of your soft flesh as his hands explored your voluptuous form.

He was still groping as he planted wet, sloppy kisses up to your ear.

“I want to take you in this dress.” Hunter licked at your pulse point, feeling your heart rate increase under his tongue.

“How do you want me?” You gasped, needing more of him by the second.

“I want you on my face.”

His voice was husky, his words thick with feverish cravings that sent lightning bolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“Is that okay?”

You nodded dumbly, your thoughts muddled by passion.

Hunter let out a low grunt of approval as he rolled off you, laying on his back, beckoning you to him. How could you deny him, especially when he looked like this?

His eyes were hooded, his breath labored, some of his curly hair falling haphazardly out of his bandana. Hunter’s control was already unraveling and you’ve barely gotten started.

“I know how wet you are, mesh’la. Let me help you. Let me taste your perfect pussy.”

A shudder ran down your spine as you you crawled over and positioned yourself over his head, hiking up your dress as your thighs surrounded his face. You braced yourself on the headboard, looking down at the man between your legs.

Hunter’s pupils were blown with wild lust as he gazed up at your pussy, his mouth watering with anticipation.

“I don’t want to-I don’t want to hurt you or-“ You whispered, trembling at his breath ghosting over your exposed cunt.

Hunter chuckled, carefully caressing your thighs, his touch gentle. “You could never hurt me. And if this is how I go, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He gave your thighs a curt squeeze.

“Now sit on me, please.”

Hunter clutched the soft flesh of your ass, keeping your dress pulled up as he drew you down to his mouth. The second his tongue eagerly lapped at your folds, you let out a high-pitched whimper, your chin falling to your chest. “Hunter…! Oh, stars…”

Hunter began licking and probing, switching between fucking you as deep as he could with his tongue and suckling on your clit. It was almost overwhelming, your airy mewls becoming heavy moans as Hunter devoured you from beneath.

Hunter let out a primal growl as your arousal soaked his face. Your inner thighs were now coated in your slick, your clit swelling with every suck and pass of his tongue.

All your nerves were on fire, heat bubbling in your lower belly, the obscene sounds of Hunter lapping and practically purring beneath you was building your release quickly.

Hunter’s senses were ablaze, his hips instinctually bucking, his cock weeping as his face remained buried underneath you, intensely focused on your pleasure.

Hunter loved feeling the weight and warmth of you on his face, hearing every sweet cry that left your lips, inhaling the scent of your sex. It was almost overwhelmingly perfect. You were perfect.

He was at the core of you, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Hunter’s fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, your dress bunched in his fists as he licked long stripes up and down your swollen lips. He made sure to keep the pressure on your clit, feeling your thigh muscles constrict around his head.

“Hunter…I’m close…don’t stop…” You could barely form a coherent sentence as he continued his feast.

Your thighs were quivering, your dress sticking to your body, and you were letting the most lewd sounds escape your throat, not holding back and letting Hunter know how he was making you feel.

You were gripping the headboard so hard you thought it might crack under your grip.

Burning heat was licking in your loins, a molten coil tightening and threatening to spring loose with every move of Hunter’s tongue, his thick muscle rolling and pressing against your clit.

You glanced down, finding it tough to keep your eyes open, and the look in Hunter’s eyes looking back at you between your legs was what sent you over the edge.

His eyes were blown with lust, black and deep, a carnal determination to feel your release on his tongue and taste every drop.

You threw your head back, his name a chant leaving your lips as you convulsed over him, your muscles spasming up as your orgasm rocked your entire being.

Hunter let out a satisfied groan, keeping you down tight against his face, letting you grind and ride your orgasm against him, not slowing his tongue and lips sucking at your clit. He didn’t want to miss a single drop.

You began to relax, your thighs now jelly, trying to get air back in your lungs. Hunter’s ministrations slowed, and you slid off of him, laying at his side.

“Mesh’la…” Hunter made no move to clean off his face, shining with your juices.

“I’ve been waiting all day for that. You taste incredible. As always.”

You were trying to come back down from the atmosphere, your mind spinning with the intensity of your orgasm, but still needing more.

“Now, how do you want me?”

Hunter asked, sultry as he licked some of your slick off his lips, savoring your taste.

“In your lap. I want to ride your cock.” You knew this was one of his favorite positions since he was able to feel all of you, and it made his heightened senses short-circuit every time.

Hunter didn’t need another second to comply, maneuvering himself to sit against the headboard. “Yes, ma’am.”

His eyes flashed as you sat up, lowering yourself in his lap. “Take my cock. I’m all yours.”

“Do you still want the dress on?” You asked sweetly, sliding your still sensitive pussy against his throbbing cock.

“Yes.” He rubbed his hands on your ass, feeling the soft fabric and your supple flesh underneath, the sensations driving him mad. “Kriff, yes.”

He pressed his face into your neck as you lowered yourself on top, taking in all of him. The stretch was wonderful, finally having him inside you, hearing the hitch in his breathing as he bottomed out.

Hunter grunted, feeling your tight muscle clench around him.

“You look ‘sgood in this dress…feel ‘so good…I love you…” He slurred as you bounced on him, all of the sensations you were giving him building almost too quickly.

You grasped at his shoulders for leverage, moving up and down, feeling every ridge and vein of his thick cock against your walls, your whines and mewls matching his deep groans as you increase your pace.

You knew he wouldn’t last long like this, and didn’t want him to hold back.

Hunter clutched your waist, thrusting up against you to match yours, driving deeper into you.

Your sounds, your smell, he could feel his end building fast.

“I’m not going to last…” He rasped, now licking at your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress, adding to your pleasure. His thrusts up into you became stronger, hitting that magical spot so deep inside you, your eyes rolled back into your head.

Hunter hastily slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders once again, tugging the front down to expose your breasts,needing to feel your pebbled nipples on his tongue.

All you could do was let out breathy gasps, another orgasm building to a breaking point with each snap of his hips and debauched slurp as he sloppily sucked your tits.

“Hunter…I love you…I love the way you make me feel…oh stars…keep going…” Your words faded into gibberish as his mouth teased and tantalized your breasts, his movements becoming erratic.

“Cum for me. I want to hear you, feel you…cum on my cock…please…” Hunter’s voice was guttural, desperate, murmuring between suckling and nipping at your tits with his teeth.

You were delirious at this point, your breasts being ravished by his mouth as he kneaded and groped your thighs and ass, his cock bringing you closer and closer to the glorious edge with every frantic movement of his hips.

“Hunter…you feel so good, make me feel so good…”

“That’s right…you take me so well, you’re beautiful like this…I can feel everything…”

Not only was he feeling his pleasure, he could feel yours too.

Hunter could hear every subtle change in pitch of your moans, feel every muscle twitch in your cunt as you milked him, smell the overpowering scent of your sweat and arousal…he was undone.

Hunter let out a muffled shout against your chest as he came hard, erupting inside you. Hunter wrapped his arms around your torso, tugging you flush against him as he rode out his pleasure.

His cock twitched and swelled inside you as he frantically bucked his hips, filling you to the brim, feeling the warmth spread in your cunt.

Only you were graced with the privilege to see your Sergeant fall apart like this. He was a mess, letting out low moans as his senses amplified every sensation.

Your orgasm followed right after, his cock rubbing your clit in just the right way, still sensitive from before. You cried his name like a prayer of devotion, holding him close as ecstasy blossomed throughout your body. “Hunter…oh Maker…Hunter…!”

Hunter kept his head huddled into your neck, his breath fanning across your chest as he listened to your heartbeat and felt your wet warmth flutter around his softening cock.

Your movements slowed, basking in one another, not quite ready for him to leave you or for you to leave him.

You couldn’t help but let out a tired chuckle as he looked up at you, a small smile on his lips, his face still glistening with your juices from before.

“Was that a nice enough break?” He whispered. You smiled back at him, kissing him softly.

“Yes.” Was all you could say, still trying to catch your breath. You moved off him, laying down on the bed, already missing how he felt buried inside you as you re-adjusted your dress.

Hunter hummed in contentment, rising off the bed and heading into the refresher. He walked back moments later with a damp towel, wiping the inside of your thighs and gently cleaning you up.

“You’re a mess.” He smirked. “You can’t go back to the festival looking like this.”

You sat up, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I have you to thank for that.”

Hunter kissed you, cupping your cheek and tracing his thumb over your flushed face. “I can’t help that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. With or without the dress.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, nuzzling your face.

“I’ll have to add it into my weekly rotation.” You teased. “I’d prefer daily.” Hunter smirked, kissing you sweetly again.

Hunter laid next to you, and you rested your head against his chest, tracing your fingertips over his tattoo that ran down his torso. “We should get back soon…” You muttered.

Hunter’s eyes were closed, his breathing slow. “Mmm…yeah…” was all he could muster.

“If I’m not there to stop Crosshair from winning every game, there won’t be prizes left for anyone.” Hunter laughed, cracking open his eyes. “We better get back then.” Neither of you moved, still relishing in one another.

You hummed, thinking. “Ten more minutes won’t hurt.”

Hunter smiled. “Fifteen?”

“Omega might come back with an army of stuffed tookas by then.”

Hunter playfully sighed. “Okay, ten minutes. But only if you promise to wear that dress the rest of the night.”

Hunter may not be a soldier any longer, but his reflexes and strength still remained.

He had you pinned underneath him in an instant, his lips centimeters from yours. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

Your breath hitched at his provocative promise for later, one that he fulfilled over and over again after the festival ended, even after your dress was long discarded.

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @littlemissmanga @secretthegriffin @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @idontgetanysleep @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @sleepingsun501 @pb-jellybeans

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#Hunter x reader #Hunter tbb x reader #Hunter x you #Hunter tbb x you #Hunter tbb #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch smut #the bad batch #Hunter smut #tbb #tbb Hunter #starrycatwrites #clone thirsting #x reader #reader insert #sergeant hunter #tbb fanfiction

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papurgaatika · 3 months ago

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You're Good To Me, Baby

kinktober prompt one: Mommy Kink

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! reader

Minors DNI with my work please!!

A/N: HOWDY HOWDY AND WELCOME TO MY FAVORITE MONTH !!! *EAGLE SCREECH NOISE*

Happy kinktober everyone, this is from the absolute depths of my soul and pussy. Joel miller, you are my everything, and i know the fellow tumblerinas are horny for you. Again, hozier song lyric for the title, wow who’s shocked. Thank you to my beloved beta reader my beloved @carlynkurin!! Peace and love from me everyone!

Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!

Tags: mommy kink, praise kink, edging kinda, sub!Joel miller, soft reader, jackson joel. Reader is able bodied but no other description

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Joel was perfect in your eyes and you’re determined to have him see himself like that

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Joel is a grumpy old man. You love him more than you love air, and he loves you more than you thought was humanly possible. Unfortunately, he doesn’t see the good you see in him. He shines like gold in your eyes, like a beacon of warmth that keeps you safe. It wasn’t unusual for you to give him a compliment and fluster him; a peck on the jaw, a casual “look real good today, honey” or a wordless conversation in bed as you just gaze at him. With all of those came his refusal to listen, however. A blush creeping on his cheeks, a scoff pointed at your words, or a grumble to get to sleep. It wasn't what you wanted. You wanted him to see himself how you do. To see how perfect he was for you, to understand truly, and you would make him see it by any means necessary.

You were always a schemer, always had something up your sleeve to catch Joel off guard and he knows that very well. But during a late-night makeout session with your hips slotted perfectly around his, he couldn't seem to care about stopping you. Joel should have known better, should have anticipated your plot, but his mind had been cloudy, his brain turned off while his dick was hard. That’s how he found himself tied to your shared bed, arms bound above his head while you straddled his legs.

“Come on baby,” you hum at him, his cock leaking through his underwear “I'm not touching you until you say you’re perfect” Your voice was sickly sweet as you cooed at him, almost like you were talking to a frightened animal, coaxing it towards safety. But Joel was stubborn as a mule, not that you didn’t love it, but he would refuse until the end of time. He wouldn’t, no couldn't admit it. Not to you, and definitely not to himself. So instead he just strains against the rope, trying to get any sort of friction against his aching cock. Practically begging with those eyes of his. “Baby come on,” you whisper, kissing his cheek as your nose brushes his as you move a piece of hair from his sweaty forehead “Just say it for me, I know you can be good for me, i know you want to be good”

He's holding out longer than you thought he would if you were being frank. The muscles in his arms were straining against the rope, and his teeth were gritted, but you could see the cogs turning in his mind. The choice looming over him was taking its toll, and you were about to win. “Oh, my sweet pretty boy” you coo, your fingers gently trailing over his cheek, a hoarse moan leaving his lips at the praise you give him. You watch with a raised eyebrow as he pulls at the ropes, tilting your head with a slight smirk on your lips. “You know better than to do that baby, I tie a good knot come on” you chide. You watch as he tugs at them again, knowing if he really wanted to get out, he would have been out already, but he liked this almost as much as you did. Almost.

You tsk at him and roll your hips against his gently, a barely there movement, so light he could have been imagining it, but the gasp that it pulls out of him is very real. “You ain’t playin fair darlin” he groans, no, pleads, when he feels another grind of your body against his. His hips instinctively try to get some friction and grind up into you but you tut at him, stopping him in an instant.

You move so that your body straddles the lower half of his tummy, the feel of his happy trail grazing your thighs. “Come on Joel, you know the rules better than that, tell me what you need” you hum, watching the pout on his face grow tenfold, and god he was so pretty when he was desperate. He makes a desperate noise, pulling at the ropes and hips bucking into the air again as you give him a small pout of your own. Your features are dripping with faux pity as you let out a dramatic sigh and swing your legs off from around him and stand up next to the bed. “S’pose you don't know what it is then..” you muse, watching his eyes grow wider at the sight of you moving from him. “I’ll let you stay here and think about it, yeah?” you press a teasing little kiss to the corner of his lips, your hand trailing down his chest, before your touches stop and you turn to walk away.

You stretch your arms out over your head, giving him a view of your curves as you sway your hips slightly, walking to the door of the bedroom before you hear a rushed “Wait no I'll say it-”

Jackpot

No matter how damn stubborn Joel was, you knew what made him tick. He was a man, after all, a man who truly loves your ass, and you would use that to your advantage. “I’m…” he takes a deep breath like the words were refusing to come out of his mouth “I’m your perfect boy..”

The words are hushed and hurried, but he had said them and that’s what you wanted. You move to go back and sit on the bed next to him, your hand pushing his hair back off of his forehead. “I know you are baby… always so perfect and pretty for me, yeah?” The words ring through his ears like a choir of angels, a needy whine leaving his lips as he stares at you with big puppy dog eyes “Okay baby, go on now, what do you need from me hmm?” You coo at him, watching him with kind eyes. “I’m all yours, use your words and it's yours.”

He lets out another shaky breath at the devotion in your words “Touch me... Please touch me Mommy” You loved Joel in all instances, the good and the bad, the hard and easy times, but there was something special about how much you loved when he called you that. Knowing that he trusts you enough to take charge of his pleasure, that he’ll say things that are so hard for him to admit just because you want him to start to believe them.

Your fingers graze over his chest, feather-like touches barely skimming the goosebumps that formed on his skin. “I am touching you, honey,” you murmur.

“Not what I meant,” he whines, trying to find some give in the ropes.

“Be specific then,” you mumble, your fingers running over his collarbone. “Use your words properly.” Sure you were being a little mean to him, but hearing him ask was better than giving in so quickly, it was about the power.

“Mommy I-” his words are whiney and pleading with you “hands, mouth, anything. Just want you to make me cum please I’ll be good I swear I-” you cut his rambled begging off with a small shhh, a small laugh and smile leaving your lips as you press a kiss against his lips. You hum softly as you let your hands trail down his chest, your nails grazing over his skin lightly, enjoying the slight hiss he lets out at the sensation, and then let your hand settle at the waistband of his boxers. You tease them down, painfully slow, and feel him tense up under your touch and just let your fingers trace over his thighs. Up and down, and up and down, never really touching him.

“Mommy please-” his words are hoarse as you tease him, needy with anticipation.

“Okay baby, okay, I'm sorry” you whisper, laughing. It was a soft sound he’ll never get over that makes Joel feel like he's the luckiest man alive, it makes his heart burst every single time. His mind is pulled from that thought as your fingers wrap around his cock and stroke him agonizingly slow, his precum coating your fingers as you swipe them over his head listening to his moans. Your grip wasn't tight, just soft lazy strokes that left his hips bucking into your fist. Broken pleas of baby please, I need more leave his mouth in desperation, as you just hum in response, letting your pace grow just a little faster. You smiled as a hoarse moan fell from his mouth, your free hand going to brush the curls out of his forehead.

“You're doing so good for me baby, look so perfect like this. All mine.” He looked absolutely wrecked. His hips were rolling into yours and his head was thrown back, quiet whimpers and moans leaving his lips. You could tell he was close. His breaths were coming out in pants and a plea of please, please, please- leaving his lips, barely coherent.

Your pace picked up again bringing him so close to the edge “Do you want to cum baby? Is that what you want, sweet boy?” You were relishing the way his hips continued to chase your touch, cock red and angry

“Yes- fuck yes Mommy please I need it I want to” he was gasping at you, panting and trembling with need as he held on for you. You could be mean, make him wait and hold on. You've edged him before, but god he was being so good for you tonight, and you wanted nothing if not his pleasure.

“Let me hear it one more time and you can cum, baby” you whisper, voice like a gentle breeze “Tell me what you are, and you can get what you want”

Every muscle in his body is tense as he staves off his orgasm “I’m- fuck, I’m your perfect boy mommy” he cries out, voice quavering as his orgasm wracks through him. He spills onto your hand and his stomach with panting breaths, his legs shaking as you milk him through it until he’s telling you to stop.

“So good… absolutely perfect for me..” you whisper, swiping your tongue over the cum on your hand and licking a stripe up his happy trail. He lets out a guttural noise at your actions, eyes pressing shut as he regains his composure and catches his breath.

“Yer a menace, darlin” he murmurs after a moment, his eyes still closed but a lazy smirk plastered to his face.

You simply make a small noise of acknowledgement and kiss his head, “yeah, but you're perfect” you hum, undoing his rope “Always have been baby.”

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS, AND REBLOG THIS.

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

#papaya writes <3 #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #jackson joel #kinktober 2024 #the last of us smut #pedro characters #pedro pascal

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starrihan · 11 days ago

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Happy New Year, Kiss Me - New Years with Enhypen

-> Pairing: Enhypen x afab! Reader

-> Plot: how you would spend New Year's with the Enhypen members

-> Genre: fluff, Heeseung's is slightly suggestive, Jake's is very suggestive

-> Warnings: drinking, use of nicknames (love, darling, sweetie, baby), hyung line scenario's take place at Jay's new year's party

-> Word Count: 3,143, each one got progressively longer as i continued writing (350-500 words each)

-> Notes: Happy New Year! I hope you all enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them! Hope you all have a wonderful new year and lets hope 2025 goes better than this year did (for me at least) 🤧

༄ ༄ ༄

Heeseung:

The New Year’s party was something you had been looking forward to. After all the anticipation of Christmas had passed, you were ready to welcome the new year with open arms. You made your way to Jay’s house. He hosted the New Year’s party every year, always making it better each time.

You arrived at the party shortly after it began, fixing your hair in the car before knocking on the door.

“Hey guys! Y/N’s here!”

Jay says, opening the door and giving you a hug as you walk in. You make your way to the kitchen, where you find Sunghoon and Jake.

“Hey Y/N! You look amazing!”

Sunghoon says, pouring you a glass of champagne.

“Thank you! You both look really handsome as well!”

You sip at your drink, making your way around and greeting everyone you knew until you finally found the boy you were looking for.

“Heeseung! Finally!”

You walk up to the tall, brown haired man who was talking with a couple of his other friends.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you! I’m sorry I was a bit distracted! You look really good!”

He says, pulling you in for a hug. You just chuckle and tell him it’s alright, joining the conversation and laughing amongst the group.

As the time approaches 12 a.m, you look around, watching everyone break away into pairs, presumably with the person they plan on kissing. You realize that the only other guy without a partner is Heeseung. He looks down at you and smiles,

“Guess you’re my New Year’s kiss, Y/N,”

You smile up at him, nodding as you watch the big flat screen tv countdown.

60 seconds…

30 seconds…

10 seconds…

3…

2…

1…

“Happy New Year’s!”

The whole house erupts as everyone looks to their partner, sharing a quick kiss. You look up at Heeseung who is already leaning in, closing your eyes as your lips meet. The kiss doesn’t last for long, but you can feel yourself relaxing into his touch, hands holding his face as he pulls away and flashes you a smirk.

“Your lips are so soft, we should do this again sometime,”

You laugh as you playfully hit his chest at his flirty tone, but not before giving him a flirty reply back,

“Let’s see where the end of the night takes us~”

༄ ༄ ༄

Jay:

You woke up in the morning to help your boyfriend, Jay, prepare for the party that was being thrown in your shared home. It was your job to decorate while he got drinks and snacks.

You spent the morning taping up streamers and making sure the centerpieces looked right. You had provided little hats and glasses that say 2025 on them, loving little corny accessories.

As the day progressed, you got yourself ready for the party. After showering, you got started on your makeup, waiting for your hair to dry. After finishing that, you fixed your hair before slipping on a silver sequin dress, one that you knew Jay would not be able to keep his eyes off of. You had decided to keep your outfit a surprise, wanting to see his reaction to you wearing it for the first time before the party started.

“Wow, you look absolutely stunning,”

He says, awestruck, taking your hand and having you do a little twirl.

“I’m glad you like it! I’ve been dying to show you!”

You say, embracing him and pecking his lips.

“C’mon, the guests will be here soon!”

You say, making your way downstairs to greet the first round of guests.

“Y/N! Jay! You guys look beautiful!”

Jake exclaims, walking in with his girlfriend, a big smile plastered on his face.

“You guys really out did yourself this year!”

He makes his way to the kitchen, pouring him and his girlfriend some drinks.

You enjoy your night talking to your friends and Jay, relishing in the compliments you were getting at the successful party you managed to throw, yet again.

“1 minute till midnight!”

Jay yells, grabbing everyone’s attention for the New Year’s tradition. As the countdown reaches 1, you look to Jay who's already looking at you.

“Happy New Year my love~”

“Happy New Year Jay!”

You both say to each other, leaning in for a passionate kiss, one that lasted longer than most people’s. You smiled at him, taking in the feeling of being together for another new year.

“We’re really good at this”

“Yes we are”

༄ ༄ ༄

Jake:

You looked at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and making sure your makeup was on point, matching the style and color of your black and silver dress.

“My baby, looking stunning as always,”

Jake says, leaning on the door frame.

“Almost makes me wanna keep you here all night…”

He walks behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, giving your cheek a quick peck.

“Do we have to go? You look too good…”

He whines, hands traveling up and down your sides now, trying to entice you to stay. You laugh as you put your hands over his, stopping his movements.

“Jake, it’s your best friends party, we have to go! Besides, if you behave, I’ll show you what’s under this dress,”

You say back to him, staring into his eyes through the mirror. He buries his face in your neck, smirking as he trails kisses up towards your ear.

“I guess we can go then. What’s a few hours anyways when we’ll be up all night?”

“Let’s go you horn ball,”

You say, grabbing the car keys on your way out. You walk up to the door and knock, Jake right next to you as you’re greeted by Jay and his girlfriend. You head to the kitchen, talking with Jake’s friends as he pours you and himself a drink.

You find yourself pretty tipsy but the time midnight rolls around, finding ways to tease Jake due to your own pent-up state.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to behave before we left?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, finding your wondering hands amusing.

“You gave me too much to drink… you know how I get when I’m tipsy”

You say, cheeks flushed and vision slightly blurry, staring at Jake as he holds your hand, gesturing to the tv.

“Only 5 more minutes, yeah? Then we can head home and I can give you what you’re so desperately needing,”

Voice dripping with honey as he whispers seductively in your ear, your need for him increasing with every passing minute. The countdown begins, you’re so eager, staring at Jake and almost kissing him before midnight. He laughs and holds you off, waiting till the last second.

“Happy New Year’s baby, now come here”

You don’t even say it back, smashing your lips onto his in a hungry kiss.

“Beautiful, happy New Years! Can we go home now?”

He laughs and nods, letting himself be dragged out the door while shouting his goodbyes to all his friends.

“Let’s see what you have on under that dress,”

(whenever i read/ write stuff about Jake that has him saying shit like this I always picture this emoji 😛)

༄ ༄ ༄

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon is a very punctual person. So he was rightfully annoyed when you were taking your sweet time getting ready, thus making you guys 15 minutes late to Jay’s New Year’s party.

“I’m sorry! My hair wasn’t working with me and I couldn’t get my eyeliner right!”

You say, scrambling into the car as quickly as your heels would allow you to. He just sighed and started driving,

“You had more than enough time to get ready.”

He said sternly. You sighed back in response. You couldn’t argue with him, he was right. You did have many hours to get ready, and you still somehow managed to be late.

“You’re right Hoon, I’m sorry.”

He could sense how apologetic you were, resting his hand on your thigh and giving it a little squeeze.

“It’s alright sweetheart. It’s only Jay, he won’t care. Plus, we can be fashionably late now. You do look gorgeous.”

He says, and you smile, feeling at ease as you pull up to the party.

“Please don’t let me drink tonight, I still haven’t recovered from the Christmas party,”

You say, stepping out of the car and walking up to the front door, hand in hand with Sunghoon.

“Don’t beg me to give you one when you get bored then.”

You walk into the house, immediately greeted by Jay and Sunghoon’s other friends. You all congregate in the living room, laughing and exchanging stories as if you hadn’t seen these people just 5 days ago.

“Jay you always make the best drinks but I can’t have any today. I don’t want a repeat of the Christmas party…”

You laugh sheepishly, recalling the light-headed state you were in that had Sunghoon worried sick that you were going to throw up. You go to the kitchen to grab a snack and Sunghoon follows you in, back-hugging you as you pop a couple of candies into your mouth.

“Can I have one?”

You laugh as you place a candy in his already open mouth, following it up with a quick kiss.

“Hey! Save the kisses for the new year!”

He says playfully to which you roll your eyes, heading back to the living room. You watch as everyone yells in excitement, getting ready to kiss their partners as the timer hits 10 seconds. You all count down with it, shouting “happy new year!,” before looking at Sunghoon, smiling before planting a loving kiss on his lips.

“Happy new year, my love. I can’t wait to spend another year with you.”

You say, arms around his neck still, his hands squeezing at your waist.

“Happy new years baby, I love you.”

༄ ༄ ༄

Sunoo:

You had decided to spend new years with Sunoo's family this year. You spent last year with your family, so you only thought it would be fair to have this year with his family.

“Sunoo, baby? Are you almost ready? Your family is waiting for us!”

You said, hurriedly grabbing your belongings. They had invited you to spend the weekend with them after new years, so you had to make sure you had everything you’d need packed.

“Yes I’m almost done! And why are you packing? You have everything you need at my house?”

You stare at the little bag you have, only a couple makeup products and new skincare items in there. You were so nervous, you forgot that you basically live there too.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I’m just nervous. We’ve spent a lot of time with your parents but I’ve never met your entire family before.”

You look at him and sulk, fidgeting your fingers and looking down at your pathetic bag. He walks over to you, holding your hands in his.

“It’s okay sweetie, they’re gonna love you. And even if they don’t, who cares? I love you.”

You smile as he places a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s go, I’m ready.”

You nod as you make your way to the car, grabbing the little bag of stuff anyways.

Upon arriving at Sunoo’s parents house, you sigh as you mentally prepare yourself. You knock on the door and are immediately greeted by Sunoo’s mom who pulls you in for a big hug.

“Y/N, my darling! I’ve missed you so much! Come in!”

You smile as you feel more at ease. You slip off your shoes as Sunoo greets his mom. You look around to see that mostly everyone is distracted, having conversations amongst their own little groups.

Sunoo takes you around, introducing you to every one of his family members. You slowly warm up to everyone, being able to make conversation on your own and even being invited out by his other family members for future events.

As the day passes by, you realize that there’s only a couple minutes left until the new year begins. You start to feel a little shy, the idea of kissing Sunoo while all his family is present is a little bit anxiety-inducing. He can sense your unease, calmly gripping onto your shoulders and pulling you close.

“I can see that you’re still nervous baby, but it’s okay. They’re all gonna see us kiss on our wedding day anyways, right?”

You smile and nod, blushing as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck. The countdown begins and you two join in, staring into each others eyes at the final ‘3, 2, 1,’ before gently leaning in, sharing a short but sweet kiss.

“Happy New Year Y/N. I’m so lucky to have spent another year with you,”

He says, leaning his forehead on yours.

“Happy New Year Sunoo. I’m even luckier~”

༄ ༄ ༄

Jungwon:

This was the first New Year’s that you would be spending with Jungwon. You had decided to just spend it together at your apartment. You had been invited to a couple of New Year’s parties but you wanted your first one with Jungwon to be special and a little more intimate, without the social pressures of dressing up and making conversation with people you barely know.

You had decorated a little bit, wanting it to feel a little bit more celebratory than just another night in. You kept it simple though, a couple streamers and silly little party hats to take pictures in. You finish setting up the table with some snacks when you hear a knock on your door, running faster than you’d care to admit to open it.

“Jungwon!!!”

You yelled, jumping into his arms for a hug.

“I’m really excited to see you too baby but can we go inside? It’s cold out here…”

He says as he laughs, entering the warm apartment. He’s welcomed with the familiar scent of your home, sighing as he places his bag down and gives you a proper hug.

“I missed you baby. I’m so glad we’re spending new years here, together, instead of at some lame party.”

“Don’t let Jay find out that you called his party lame otherwise he might lecture you on the difficulties of being a good host.”

You both laugh as you break away from each other, Jungwon walking to your living room while you walk to the kitchen. You grab the bottle of champagne you had bought, walking out with it and two champagne glasses in your hands.

“Even though we’re not at a party, a little champagne is always fitting for the occasion!”

You say as you set the glasses on the table, Jungwon helping you with the bottle.

“Ooh! Can I pop the bottle?”

You nod as you sit back, letting him pop the top off and laughing when you see a bit of smoke coming out of it.

“I thought it was gonna spray everywhere,”

he says, disappointed.

“I’m glad it didn’t.”

You spend the time sipping away at the champagne and watching trashy reality tv shows, cuddling up under a blanket. You’re so immersed in your activity that you almost miss the clock flashing to 11:59 pm.

You tap Jungwon and put your glass down, turning to him in excitement.

“1 more minute!!!”

You guys both giggle as you start a mini countdown to each other.

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

“Happy New Year!!”

You both yell to each other before leaning in for a kiss. You let it last for a while, not having to worry about the duration of the kiss.

“I’m glad we decided to spend our first new years like this. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate.”

He says, cat-like eyes disappearing in a big smile that engulfs his face.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

༄ ༄ ༄

Niki:

You and Niki hadn’t been together long. You guys met about 8 months ago, but only start dating 2 months ago, so everything romantic still felt pretty new to you both. When you had gotten the news that you’d be going to a New Year’s party that Niki’s friends were throwing, you were very excited yet nervous, to say the least. You’d met his friends before, but never all together at once.

You were getting ready at your house, opting to start early since Niki would be coming to pick you up. You looked in the mirror as you finished doing your hair, making sure everything looks right. You hear your phone go off besides you:

“Hey darling, I’m outside.”

You read Niki’s message and smile, grabbing your purse before making your way to his car. You find him standing by your door, having already opened it for you.

“You look gorgeous m’lady,”

He says, smiling as you laugh as his playfully formal demeanor.

“You’re looking quite dashing yourself, good sir,”

You say as you walk into the car. He closes the door for you and you make your way to the party that was at Jake’s house.

“You look really beautiful. I can’t wait to spend this new year with you.”

You blush and look away, fingers playing with the hand that he kept on your thigh.

“You're too cute Niki. Thank you. You look really good too! The suit suits you,”

You laugh at your own joke before arriving at Jake’s house. You walk out of the car and head up to the front door, Niki following behind you. Without even knocking on the door, the door flies open revealing an excited Jake.

“Y/N!! You’re here!”

He says, dragging you inside.

“Hey, what about me?”

Niki sulks as he walks in, jokingly bitter about not being greeted by Jake.

“I’m glad you guys could come! Thank you Y/N for coming out here tonight. We were all so excited to have you!”

You smile at Jake’s sweet words, leaning your head on Niki’s shoulder as you all engage in conversation.

The night goes smoothly, playing games while the adults drink champagne and you and Niki stick to drinking cider.

“Get ready guys, 5 minutes till midnight!”

Heeseung says, going over to his girlfriend. All the boys go to their significant others, waiting for the countdown to begin. You stay next to Niki, anticipating the countdown. You guys had kissed before, but with you both being so busy and still new to the relationship, you weren’t used to it yet.

The countdown begins, everyone getting excited and yelling as the numbers go down.

You look up at Niki, who is smiling down as the final 3 seconds pass, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Happy New Year darling.”

“Happy New Year Niki~”

༄ ༄ ༄

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naffeclipse · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 17: The Episode Bedeviling Bodies Part 1

FNAF Cryptid!Sun/Moon x Cryptid Hunter!Y/N (SFW)

The parking lot where you’ve stopped the vehicle is hazy and distant as if you’re visiting it in a dream. A faded neon red sign promises hot pancakes in cursive lettering. The truck stop attached to the small restaurants is lifeless, packed with a few silent semis. You breathe in. You turn slowly and face Moon’s eclipsed expression. You unclamp your fingers and lower your trembling hands into your lap. Minute by minute, your fists become lax.

Word Count: 13,800~ Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of child harm/death, mentions of child abuse, mentions of heart-eating, and anxiety.

A/N: Wow, boy howdy, it's been a hot minute, huh? I want to apologize for the month-long wait. I had an interesting time finishing my finals while dealing with strep throat, and then a brother's wedding. This episode ended up a touch longer than I anticipated as well. I am, however, very happy to say that I've got everything ready to go for this last stretch! This is a four-part episode, and there's also a little epilogue to wrap it all up. Be warned that these parts are very dense but there's just a lot to get through.

You go to a diner with a demonic cryptid, figure out what was right in front of your face the whole time, ask for a vow, and give chase to an old friend.

#cryptid sightings #cryptid!sun #cryptid!moon #sun x reader #moon x reader #this one is more of talking about the elephant in the room #but that's not it comes stomping around #basically enjoy the calm right now #honey ya got a big storm coming #ao3 link

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gffa · 1 year ago

Note

The latest ending of Ahsoka really made me realize one of the big problems with Felony's writing and why so much of the Masndo-verse and Felony's modern writing falls flat compared to OWK and Andor. Shock value. A BIG twist cliffhanger that leaves us all mouth open and HYPING up the next episode in hope and filling the forums with discussions in anticipation. Understandably, he can't write what we wrote in our heads for 7 days and top that. 1.

2. But once that shock is gone when the story has moved onto the next big thing, or you watch it again when you know what it pays off in, or watch the whole series or season again, it just doesn't hold up. It's empty. Vapid. Because it's all about the shock. The twist. The discussion. The hype fodder. It's not saying anything or adding anything. OWK and Andor was a lot better at that, without the use of the nostalgia baiting that Felony relies on. 3. It becomes an endless circle of low lows and high highs, while OWK and Andor both slowly built up to the crescendo of discussions and speculations and both have stayed in the fandom consciousness alot longer thanks to that. And because they have something to say, both to the world and to the viewer. While with the Felony and the Fraudrou verses, it's just a constant barrage of oh wow, moving on, what's next? ehh, it's over, let's move on.

I feel like one day I'm going to do a longer analysis on why exactly Filoni's writing feels weak to me (where I try to be more fair than I'm usually feeling about his writing), because I don't think he's without a lot of talent and there's certain things he really does get about Star Wars, but I think so much comes back to that he's a writer who is caught in a difficult position--playing in someone else's sandbox but has to now establish his own new corners of that sandbox and I'm not sure he's strong enough to be a big picture kind of guy when he works better in smaller focus. His work on TCW and Rebels is content that we do come back to again and again for analysis, during my rewatches of both those series, those shows hold up! But I think they're ones where he had stronger guardrails up, and he was forced to stick to things in one place. I think live action has been bad for Filoni's writing because of the way so much is structured, that there are multiple series going on and I feel like his writing doesn't have the patience to actually tell a story in a single space, that's why we get Grogu's story being split between The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, that's why we get Mandalore's story being splintered across Rebels, The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett, and now Ahsoka. We still haven't even seen half of the events that happen in the Mandalore bigger story! And you're right that he and Favreau both lean too hard on the cameos and echoes/rhymes for nostalgia's sake. And those reference points are often extremely fun in the moment! And I'll grant that the Luke episodes are ones I go back to fairly often, because I think there's some really good content in there about what attachment actually means. But I don't think it's that surprising, looking back, how quickly the Favroni shows fell apart for us and how it doesn't feel like they're establishing anything that can support a bunch of books and comics. I suspect that Disney's not allowed to have books/comics/etc. based on Favroni's shows because they want creative control over those characters while they're still actively writing for them, but also I look at the OT and the PT and look how much was built off those movies+TCW as a foundation, I look at how much you're able to still watch those and find new things to analyze, and I just don't feel that with Filoni's writing anymore, not since Rebels, not to that level, anyway. (I'll grant that I've been a lot more excited about the Ahsoka series and what we can say about it/find in analyzing it than I expected, I expected nothing but shitposts like we did with Mandalorian s3, but I've had fun with serious meta in Ahsoka! I was genuinely excited to come on-line after episode 4 and talk about themes and structure and how well Filoni did with that there!) Ultimately, I think Filoni (and Favreau) both have a lot of talent, but I think they're being pushed too hard to make too much too quickly and that it shows that they're making this up as they go along, rather than that they had a vision they've been crafting for years and any kind of idea of where they want the end goal to be. Like, yeah, Lucas wrote some stuff on the fly, he changed his mind about things along the way, but he had an end point in mind for his story, so the echoes/rhymes felt more resonant for me. Favroni don't feel like they have any idea where they're going and so much winds up feeling like shock value and self-reference for nostalgia bad for me instead of something that's Going Somewhere.

#lumi.txt #star wars #dave filoni #sw negativity

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kaigarax · 1 year ago

Text

Growing Up With You

Yaku Morisuke x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone you've grown with."

Yaku falls in love like a gentle breeze upon a beach after a storm. A sweet reminder that everything is going to be okay. A need that everything will be okay after such a crazy world that you’ve been forced to live.

---

“Wow, you’re really bad at this, huh?”

Yaku frowns, looking up at you from the ground. He’s out of breath, his arms ache, and he’s absolutely infuriated with you. Or at least as infuriated that a young boy at seven can be.

There was this sort of smug smile on your face that he wanted nothing more than to wipe off. He guesses your words wouldn’t have been so bad if you didn’t smile like that. He’s about to jump up and begin a physical confrontation when your mother cuts him off.

“(L/n) (Y/n)! Is that how I raised you to speak!” Your mother exclaims, her voice booming through the field.

You wince slightly but your face flushes red as you sigh deeply, “but mom-”

“Don’t ‘but’ me young lady. Just because you’ve been playing longer doesn't give you an excuse to be rude to someone that just started.” she says her gaze stern and unchanging, “now apologise.”

There’s silence as you cross your arms.

Your eyes seem to clash with your mothers for a moment before you finally look away. Your body slumps down as you groan out a measly, “sorry.”

“Not to me.”

“Fine!” You turn to look back down at Yaku, holding your hand out, “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Your mother says expectantly.

“For being mean. I’m sure you’ll be a great volleyball player eventually.”

And the apology from you makes Yaku begin to feel rather smug. There’s a strange sort of bubbling feeling in his stomach at your words, even if they were only spoken out of necessity.

Privately, he wonders if you really do feel that way.

Of course he doesn't take the chance to ask you, instead pushing your hand aside and sticking his tongue out, “And I’m sure you won’t!”

“Mom!” You complain, running off towards the woman.

Yours and Yaku’s fathers laugh amongst themselves from all the commotion. Yaku might’ve laughed too if he wasn’t so mad.

---

While Yaku didn’t like to admit when you say something right he does have a few exceptions. Like right now.

Multiple years of constant volleyball really did manage to improve his skills. Quite miraculously if he would say so himself. He landed himself a starting position in his middle school’s competitive volleyball team in his first year! As a libero, but he’d take what he could get. It’s not as though hitting ever really mattered to him in the first place.

The last match, a practice one with another school, before the summer would once again begin.

“You should go get that girl’s number at the end of the game.”

“No you do it!”

“Only if we win!”

Yaku fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his teammates would be talking about something unrelated to the game. Why now when they had all summer to do that?

Yaku had never really been the biggest fan of summer, though that may have been because he always had to spend summer with you. You and your stupid smile. But, right now wasn’t the time to be thinking about such things.

His chest seemed to heave as the long rally dragged on and his body ached but there was nothing as exciting as this. Being in the midst of a game. A battle right to the very end.

The heart racing pitter patter as one waits for the serve to rush over the net.

The calming thump as the first pass presses itself nicely into your arms.

The rising thrill as the ball makes its way into the setter’s hands.

The anticipation as it soars across the net with bam!

And, the rush of euphoria and excitement when it crashes onto the ground on the other side of the net, Winning your team the game!

His teammates crowded around on court, cheering for both the victory and the beginning of summer vacation that was quick to arrive.

Yaku, on the other hand, couldn’t wait for the school year to pick up once again. The summer meant that he wouldn’t be able to have moments like this. But, he’d take what he can get.

“Hey, Yaku, do you know who she is?”

“Hm?” The boy perked his head up as his teammate pointed to a girl sitting on the stands, “isn’t she from the other school?”

“No, she said that she knows you.”

“What?” Yaku finally looked up only to see you. Two of his teammates seemed to have made their way there, laughing at something you seemed to say.

The libero fought to roll his eyes and had almost begun to make his way out of the gym when he ultimately decided to make his way over to you. He certainly didn’t want to hear his mother complain if you told her about his behaviour.

“(L/n).” He said, his voice dry and annoyed.

You turned to look at him, along with his teammates, “Yaku.”

“Ready to go?”

“Of course!” You jumped up from your seat and gave a small wave, “bye.”

“Bye!”

This time the urge to roll his eyes won, “hurry up.”

“Aren’t you gonna say bye to your teammates?”

“You’re so annoying.” Yaku sighed, “bye guys.”

“Bye Yaku!”

“What’re you doing here anyways, (L/n)?”

“I came to watch you play.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to.”

“Really.”

“Well, my mom wanted me to go.”

“That’s what I thought.”

You shoved him lightly, “it’s not like you’ve ever come to see me play.”

He gave you a light shove back, “as if you’re good enough to make the starters.”

“Hey! I am a starter!”

He smirked, “of course you are~”

“I really am!”

The two of you always walked a comfortable distance away from one another. Close enough to hear what the other might’ve said but far enough to not accidentally brush up against the other while walking. Yaku had always made certain of that after that one time he was mistaken for your boyfriend! As if he’d ever want to be your boyfriend!

You were loud, annoying, rude and-

“You know, I was quite impressed.” you said.

“As you usually are.”

You don’t take the bait, instead flashing that stupid smile, “yeah! You’ve gotten really good, Yaku!”

---

“Morisuke, sweetheart, can you bring the rest of the luggage from the car?” Shouted his mother from the kitchen.

Yaku sighed, “yes mom,” rolling his ball off to the side of the house before dragging his feet to the car.

His sister, Akane, who had been playing with her jump rope watched him curiously from her place off to the side of the house.

The boy momentarily debated calling out to her for help but ultimately decided against it. She was barely half his size and probably wouldn’t be able to carry anything anyways. Besides, his mother would definitely scold him if he were caught getting help from her.

There was a volleyball net strung up in the connected backyard of the summer house. While his family had never been a big fan of the sport the family that stayed across from them (your family) seemed to like it enough. At least enough to string up a net.

Three large bags had been left behind in the car by his parents. Two that contained kitchen utilities of some sort and one for clothes. His father’s likely.

Yaku sighed.

It looked like he was going to have to take two trips. Not that it would take very long but it would certainly put a damper on the mood and moment. But best to just get on with it then complain… but… his sister was right there and…

“Hey Yaku.”

The boy jumped, “(L/n)!”

You let out a small laugh.

Of course it would be you. And of course startling him would be the first thing you do. Why he outta-

“Do you want some help bringing your things in?” You asked.

“They’re not my-”

The boy had been planning to give you a rather snippy response but suddenly felt rather… embarrassed as he turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours.

You still had that same stupid smile he loved to mock; and your face was still pretty silly looking but there was something…

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his face, “Yaku?”

Damn it.

“You…”

You smiled leaning your head to the side with a sheepish smile, “I…?”

“You cut your hair.” Yaku had to fight the urge to face palm. Of all the things he could’ve said in response! This… THIS is what he’d ended up saying! No wonder he had no luck with girls. Not that he cared about you had to say.

You laughed, “did I? I didn’t notice.”

That seemed to snap him out of his faze as his expression morphed into the scowl you were used to seeing.

“Morisuke, what in heaven's name could be taking you so- oh! Hello (Y/n), dear!” Exclaimed Yaku’s mother, her expression flipping 180 degrees as she spotted you.

“Yaku-san.” You smiled.

“How many times have I told you to just call me Auntie!”

“Too many~”

“Ah! You’ve grown so pretty over the school year!” His mother gave him a light shove, “don’t you think so Morisuke?”

“I guess.”

“You guess! Why, I’m baffled at how I raised such an aloof son!”

“It’s alright, Auntie!” You flashed her that stupid grin you always gave when talking to adults, “I don’t mind. In fact, I think that Yaku’s grown into quite the handsome man so I’d be willing to forgive him.” You eyes seem to bare into his own as you said those words and he suddenly found himself unable to speak or move.

Heck! He wasn’t even sure if he was still thinking!

His mother elbowed him again but he didn’t move, stuck in the moment of your words and your stupidly pretty smile.

Why did you always have to smile like that?

---

You pushed the balcony door open, letting out a tired sigh.

Yaku, who had already been out there, turned curiously.

You were quick to shut the door behind you, closing your eyes before sliding down to the bottom and sitting on the ground.

It had been quite awhile since he’d last seen such an expression on your face before.

Curious, he lowered himself to the ground till his face was parallel to yours. Hair from your pushed back hair had fallen in front of your face. He brought a hand up to move the rebellious strand but stopped as your eyes suddenly opened.

“Oh, hey.” you said, seeming not to notice the strange position the two of you suddenly found yourselves in.

“Tired?” He asked.

You laughed weakly, “how’d you tell?”

He laughed too, taking a seat beside you, “call it a hunch. I am pretty good at reading spikers pretty well, ya know.”

He braced himself for a light shove but stiffened as you rested your head on his shoulder instead.

“Oh,” you pulled back, “you don’t mind, do you?”

“No.” He said, surprising himself, “I don’t.”

You smiled, “thank you, Yaku,” slowly leaning your head back.

“Yeah.”

“So, which high school are you thinking about going to?” You asked.

“Nekoma. You?”

“I’m not really sure. My parents want me to attend some big volleyball power house but that’s not really what I’m interested in.”

“Why?” Don’t you eventually want to go professional?”

You grinned, “I don’t need a powerhouse school to go professional.”

“Ah yes, I’ve forgotten how humble you are.”

“Anyways, what’re your plans for the future?”

“Hm, I guess I’ve never really thought about it. But I guess going professional doesn't sound too bad.”

“With that kinda attitude you’ll never make it.”

“Ah yes, and your confidence is the way to go?”

“Exactly~” You laughed.

And surprisingly, so did he.

Ah, that rebellious strand of hair was back. You always did have quite untameable hair when you were tired. It was probably the only thing he liked about you when the two of you were young. It seems that that still hasn’t changed.

Did you ever have a favourite thing about him?

He doesn't have enough courage to ask.

Instead he chooses to push that strand of hair back, tucking it behind your ear. You lean into his warmth ever so slightly and it makes his cheeks burst into a flurry of colour.

When did you get so pretty?

“Huh?” You perk up, “did you say something?”

Oh shoot.

Yaku turns his head away, his cheeks bright red, “no.”

“Come on! Don’t tease me like that!”

“I’m not doing anything of the sort.”

“Liar~”

He kept his head turned, sticking his nose up.

“Come on Yaku, I was just teasing!”

“Morisuke.”

“Hm?”

“Morisuke. Call me Morisuke, (Y/n).”

“On a first name basis now, are we?”

“Don’t be annoying (L/n).”

“And now we’re back to last names. I didn’t know you were so indecisive, Yaku.”

“And I didn’t know you liked my last name so much.”

You smiled, that stupid smile that always made his heart race, “Morisuke.”

“(Y/n).”

Fall in love with someone you’ve grown with.

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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toweroftickles · 1 year ago

Text

Genshin Impact: Quiet in the Library

(Jean/Lisa Tickling Fic)

This was a request for @artistgirl20 that, like always, took longer than anticipated. ^^;

**a crash of thunder, overdramatic violin music** "I surrendered my crown for you, Chien! Everything that was mine, I gave to you!" Antoinette stood on the starboard rail of the mighty ship, tears streaming down her cheeks. The stars cried out to her from above, begging "Jump!" Chien faced her, his black locks slick with ocean spray. Frigid were his wolf-like eyes. "You knew what I was...my responsibilities! My family! My duty to my country surpasses any love I have for man!" Antoinette's lip trembled. "...or woman?" she whispered. Their lips crashed together in a tempest of passion and agony, and the thunderous sea waves, for all their sound and fury and majesty, could only stare with jealous eyes at the rapture before them. Oh, that Antoinette could summon their frigid depths to her and cool her trembling loins! The straps of her blouse unbuckled, seemingly on their own. Her back was against the wall. It was happening. And as Chien reached for her, their eyes magnetically locked, she felt a surge of tender embers stirring in her silken -

"Uh, Jean? What are you doing?"

**cymbal crash**

A startled yelp escaped Jean's mouth. The chair rocked and squeaked beneath her, nearly collapsing onto the floor until steadied at the last second. Who was…?!

…oh. Lisa. Duh.

The snug little cottage of Jean's imagination came crashing down around her ears, and in its place sprung up cool white plaster walls, columns upon columns of endless books, and a chessboard floor. Once again, she was sitting at one of the long tables in the Knights of Favonius Library, her fantasies interrupted by gubernatorial tedium.

After the surprise subsided, pangs of guilt rippled her brow. Her face buried itself in her palm. She was supposed to be out helping the local populace, not goofing around, but preparing everything for the Weinlesefest always tired her out. Too many business owners to corral, too many casks to brew, too many guards to train, too many windowpanes to decorate...

Blessed Barbatos; she could use a coffee.

"Hee-Hee. You look tired. What are you worried about now?"

"Nothing...nothing!" Jean scrambled to conceal the small purple novella in her lap. "Just brushing up on some vineyard history before I....Hey!"

Just like that the book was out of her hands. Lisa playfully yanked it away from her and began to leaf through the pages before she had a chance to object, much to the former's dismay. The cover's title, embossed in silver letters, read Above The Ebbing Waves, and underneath it was a woodcut illustration of two embracing figures on the edge of a cliff. The bookkeeper grinned broadly.

"Why Jean…sitting here with a romance novel instead of performing your knightly duties?! How saucy!” Lisa, hand on her heart, looked as if she might pretend to swoon. "And after all those lectures about my productivity..."

Jean grimaced. Ugh...That gleeful sarcasm was just killing her. She wasn't gonna hear the end of this one for a while. Embarrassed, she watched Lisa's fingertip trace across the book's inner cover, until it found the small ink stamp peeking out from behind the dog-eared pages.

"And wow...I never thought you'd be the type to keep a book checked out late."

That one stung. It was true...Jean had, knowingly and with malice of forethought, broken a rule. The world was officially ending.

"Right, I...I know! I'm sorry, it's not like that!" she broke out into nervous babbles. "You see, I hadn't quite had enough time to reach the ending, and I thought that if I sat in here and finished it quickly then you might..."

The truth was that she simply didn't want to part with the book's sensual, overwritten cheese. But amidst all of that nervous excuse-making, Lisa merely chuckled. It was almost offensive, how nonchalant she was. In fact, Jean wasn't sure what bothered her more...that she was caught reading spicy love stories on the job, or the fact that Lisa didn't seem to care in the slightest about her despicable crime.

The spellcaster leaned forward on the table, right into Jean's face, putting on her most comforting smile.

"Jean...this library is entrusted to me, is it not?"

"Well...yes, of course it is." Their noses were almost touching.

"Mm-hm. And what's my first rule here?"

Jean immediately sat at attention and spoke like a student taking a quiz. "Seventh Edition Rules section 1: Please be quiet in the library."

She looked up, expecting approval, and saw that Lisa was instead rolling her bright green eyes...with a twinkle of playful affection in them, sure, but rolling nonetheless. (Was that a rhetorical question?) Lisa walked around behind her back, her heels slowly clicking on stone floor.

“Noooo…the first rule in my library is: while you're here, you have to relax.”

Black-gloved hands suddenly clasped Jean's shoulders. She let out a soft gasp. A rubbing sensation spread across her back and her neck.

“Oh....Mmf…now, Lisa…”

“Shhhh. Shh. Just relax.”

Jean shuddered. Lisa's hands felt warm and soft as they massaged her tense muscles into butter.

"You're so high-strung. It's cute, but it's not all that good for you."

She couldn't help but smile at the remark. This felt nice; nicer than she wanted to admit. Spindly velvet claws tip-toed their way down her neck as graceful as a ballerina, smoothing over her capelet and up and down her shoulder blades, until at last they came to rest, right on the lip of her collarbone.

Those long nails…the light touch sent an embarrassed quiver down her body, and she exhaled quickly through her nose. Half-shy and half-elated, she took Lisa's hand, holding it at bay.

“Heh…hey, watch your hands; that tickles…” she sighed.

Uh-oh. Her eyes reflexively dilated. As soon as the words slipped out, Jean knew she’d made a mistake. Lisa's flirtatious chuckle pricked her ears. She could feel that evil "Wicked Witch of the West" grin staring down at her.

“Oh REALLY?”

“…No. Lisa, don’t.” Her pretty smile, relaxed for the first time all day, twitched conspicuously in the corners. Jean was giggling already, and no finger-wagging authority could hide it.

“Oh, sweetie, you should NOT have told me that.”

The sound of cracking knuckles rang out. Jean tried to hop up, but before she could stand, ten fingers reached down to her waist, held her still in her chair, and skittered all along her belly.

“Mmfff…Mm Hm-Hm! Hmhm! D-hon't do that!" The blonde knight struggled to keep her lips sealed and barricade the soft, sweet sputters with her hand. She didn't hate being tickled, but in public? This was embarrassing!

"You can't giggle in my library, Jean. Rule number 1, seventh edition." Oh, why did Lisa have to tease her so much?

"Hn-Hee! C-come on, cut it out; someone'll seehee us!"

"Then hush."

Those fingers...they were marching like little soldiers all over her torso. They played the drums down her lats, squeezing and plying so gently between every muscle; even her corset couldn’t protect her. She wriggled in her squeaky chair, desperately hoping that the nearby knight (who was in the midst of perusing a book titled The Handmaiden's Swan, and Other Dirty Jokes Overheard in Djafar Tavern) wouldn't meet her gaze. One girl a few tables down did notice the pair, but then quickly turned away with a playful smile. That was the worst part for Jean. Not the tickling...not the jittery nerves inside her tummy...but the possibility that another Mondstater might see this display of affection.

Gossip, you see, was quite the force of nature in this town.

“Ah Hn-Hn! Hn! It t-hickles!”

“Goodness; you’re even more ticklish than I imagined!”

Wait… ‘imagined?’ Had Lisa thought about this before? No, don’t be silly; she wouldn’t, Jean told herself. Why won’t she stop?!

"Hey...you want to see something fun I can do with my detection magic?"

"Lisa, don't you dahahare..." Jean tittered nervously, her snickers dancing on the end of her tongue. Her words resisted, but her tone, her smile, her eyes...those surrendered.

"Hm-Hm...I can find out exactly where you're most ticklish," Lisa purred. "Right........

.....abooouuuuut......."

"D-hon't; dohohon't..." Jean was about to erupt.

Her ribs...the right side, smack in the middle. The lower left side of her smooth tummy…a soft, squeezable handle just above the hipbone.

“….HERE!”

Both spots felt a sharp pinch. Fingertips dug in and wiggled firmly, kneading into those nerve clusters with skill and aggression, sucking Jean's breath right out of her...

...and that was it. She laughed. She laughed, and no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t stop.

But this was no ordinary tickling. Daggers of crackling static burrowed down through her clothes...Electro magic?!....and kissed her tingly skin in all those innumerable secret places that made her want to squeak. She was lighter than air, practically floating. Her hair stood on end, her arms and legs broke out in chilly goosebumps.

"Ahhh Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha-Ha! H-Heh-Heh Ha! *gasp* L-hee...Lisaaaa, Ha-Ha Ha! *gasp* Oh my g-hosh!"

“Oh, here’s a weak spot! And another…and another…”

“Ha-Ha Hee!”

Were any students in the library watching? It no longer mattered. Those thoughts were far away now. All that mattered to Jean was how apple-red her cheeks were glowing, the delirious dreamlike warmth she felt, how much Lisa clearly relished touching her this way, how every playful jab made her want to curl into a little ball on her bedroom floor and yet never escape the arms that nestled her...

She descended from her hazy fog, breathing softly, her cheek flat against the cool wood of the desk. The tickling had stopped, leaving behind little teardrops that hung from her eyelashes and ghostly tingles all over her body.

"Hn......*sigh*....Hn-Hn....Lisa....th-hat's nohot funny...Hn-Hn Hn..."

“Now how does that feel?”

Jean’s pulse steadied. Her breath slowed. She hadn’t noticed at first, but to her surprise, she wasn't worn out. On the contrary: every muscle in her body was alive, coursing with a current of renewed vigor, like pure distilled caffeine had been injected into her bloodstream. Electricity made the hair on the back of her neck buzz.

Better than tea. Better than coffee. Better than…Get your mind out of the gutter, Jean; you’re a knight.

“O-oh....Wow, I…I feel so…energetic!” she gasped.

"Hmm, yes, that's my very special 'Electro-Tickle.' Heh-Heh." Lisa wiggled her fingers devilishly in the air. "Gives you a wonderful little jolt of energy, huh? I just love doing it. You know…some people even seem to really enjoy the process..."

Jean stood and snapped her book shut...uncharacteristically hard.

“Yes, well…*cough* thank you very much for bringing this new skill to my attention. I appreciate the help in getting me back to work. Ahem...Now, um, if you'll excuse me..."

"Hey, wait a minute, where are you...?"

Jean was already halfway across the room and at the front desk. The romance novel clunked inconspicuously into the return drawer. She didn't know why it worked, but her sunny disposition was back. That Lisa...she always knew how to get Jean excited to serve her community again. Just for a brief instant, she looked back.

"See you later tonight?"

Lisa smiled. There's the Jean she knew. "Yep. Tonight."

********

***The Next Day***

Knights of Favonius did not seek vengeance. Such dishonorable behavior was beneath the guardian factions of Mondstadt. But there were limits to chivalry, and surely Grand Master Varka would understand. Just this once.

Lisa was somewhere in the library...the witch had been in absentia all morning, but never strayed far from her den. Jean knew that much for sure. She’d catch that lackadaisical librarian shirking chores again and make her pay. It was justice, after all. Up the stairs she traipsed, creeping like a ninja. Nothing out of the ordinary…not at first. A quick scan of the second floor got no results. But then, behind the shelves and against the wall, something caught her eye. There was a small light glowing from beneath a desk…a candle, most likely. Worth investigating.

There, in a quiet back corner, she finally found Lisa, wedged underneath the table and in the midst of a nap, surrounded by a crude box-fort of novels. The witch's head was propped up on a red leather-bound cooking manual. Not much of a pillow. Her chest moved with gentle, placid breaths. Her wide-brimmed hat lay limp on her forehead.

Jean couldn't believe this - sleeping on the floor now? Really? Slacking off was perhaps Lisa's favorite pastime, but this was a whole new level of frivolity. But this time, Jean wasn’t even frustrated. No, it was the perfect opportunity. And even more perfect: a mango-sized lavender pot resting atop the short bookcase nearby, that she herself had left there a few days earlier. Its bouquet of dandelions had only just begun scattering seeds.

Perfect.

She quickly plucked one of the blooming flowers from the dirt and resumed her stealth mission toward Lisa. The lioness crouched low until she was down on all fours, beneath the long desk, eyes level with her prey...still asleep. Her heart was beating fast. Crawling up to the dozing librarian, her left hand closed slowly around Lisa's stilettos, she pulled, and the high heels slid off with a satisfying shuffling sound.

Lisa's feet, like the rest of her, were long and shapely…at least a size 10, her very high arches accentuated by the sheer pearl-grey nylon sheathes they wore. They were pretty, statuesque even, and it made Jean strangely jealous. (She'd always wanted to gift Lisa a really lovely pair of shoes for her birthday, something that her feet would look nice in, perhaps adorned with some petrified Sumeru roses and lacework etching...but never found the right pair, nor the time to custom-craft them.)

Shoving that thought down inside her for the moment, Jean reached out slowly with her fragile flower…quick, make sure she hasn’t stirred…and let its delicate little filaments brush gently against Lisa’s soles.

Tickle tickle tickle.

"DAH; Hnhn-Hnhn Hnhn!!"

At the softest touch of dandelion fuzz, the sorceress snapped awake with a start, and her knees buckled and pulled sharply into her breasts. Her sudden burst of giggles was smooth and husky, like a rich oaky bourbon, melting in Jean’s ears as a drink on the tongue. Jean struggled to grab Lisa’s ankles and hold them still, but the librarian’s big, ticklish feet were already nestled safe underneath her. She sat up, adjusting her honey-cinnamon curls, and giggled some more.

“Good morning to you too, Jeanie…little bit early for that sort of thing, isn’t it?” Her lips flashed a knowing smile.

“*sigh* Lisa, it’s 2:30 in the afternoon.”

Jean then realized that the dandelion was still in her hand, and quickly blew its seeds to freedom out of the side of her mouth. Lisa brushed her hat aside.

"Heheh...Oops. Let's hope nobody came by to return any books today." Immediately she hopped to her feet, making a stop to grab her discarded heels. “What do you need? Anything I can do to help, I’m there.”

Jean almost laughed. It never ceased to amaze her, how quickly her lazy confidant transformed into a buzzing worker bee whenever she was around.

“Good. I don't want to have to write you up again. Now, if you don't mind, there's something I'd like you to do with me, if you aren't too busy with your beauty sleep."

“Oh! Jean, I'm scandalized....I could never forget about our afternoon tea! You woke me up just in time.”

Jean blushed.

“N-no, that’s not it. But...actually, yes, it is about that time, if you're interested. And you do have a list of duties to perform after that. It’s just…well….you see, I’ve got a very full itinerary for the next few days preparing for the festival. And, um…I'm feeling a little bit drained right now, and…”

The Grand Master looked down at her ivory boots. Why couldn’t she get the words out? It wasn’t that embarrassing; it hadn’t been the day prior. But something was holding her back. Was it weird now? Was she making it weird? Her arm reached out into space, grasping for a distraction…any distraction…and began to fiddle with some of the hardcovers on a nearby shelf. That smug smirk of Lisa's was making her nervous.

“…yes? Heheh. Go on, spit it out.”

Whew. Ok. Here it goes.

“I wanted to ask…

…would you please practice that...'Electro-Tickle' technique again?”

For a second, she was worried at what Lisa would think. And then the giggles started.

"I was hoping you'd ask."

********

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