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#it’s nice to get some more deliberate practice in

hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard · 9 months

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Okay time for the PBS Kids essay

Read it under the cut!

:readmore:

In 1968, before there was PBS Kids proper, there was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. While it came several decades before the children’s block, it laid the foundation for the themes and values present in every facet of the network’s history.

Mr. Roger famously hated children’s programming at the time. To him, it all was droll and useless. But he didn’t dissuade the medium entirely— he saw potential. Potential that led to a few smaller television jobs, and eventually the creation of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood.

Rogers didn’t invent educational TV for children, but he did perfect it. He poured real heart and soul into probably the most sincere, heartfelt program in history.

Honestly, he could have his own essay. The more things you learn about the real man of Mr. Rogers, the more you’ll like him.

Anyway, the biggest thing that makes PBS different is the fact that it earns money through grants, fundraisers, and private donors— not through sponsorships and merchandise sales. This way, PBS Kids can push programming that it feels is important, rather than programming that merely sells well.

This also means PBS is less afraid of pushing social boundaries. Money doesn’t go away when their shows become subjects of debate— and Mr. Rogers took full advantage of this.

For context, this was 1969. The Jim Crow era had just barely, barely ended. Pool segregation was still very much legal.

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Mr. Rogers sharing a pool and a towel with the Black Mr. Clemmons was a pretty big deal at the time— especially on a show made for children.

Rogers was far from the untouchable sacred cow of today. When he was alive, he had a large number of detractors. Let’s just say that scene didn’t fly nicely by everyone.

Just one year after the debut of Mr. Roger’s came Sesame Street.

While Mr. Roger’s was made for all children, Sesame Street had the explicit goal of supplementing the education of underserved communities— especially inner-city Black (and later Latino) children.

While it was made to be accessible to children of all races and income levels, they definitely went the extra mile to make it something special for inner-city Black and Brown kids. (Why do you think it it’s “Sesame Street” and not “Sesame Cul-de-Sac”?)

At the time, a wholesome, sweet show set in a brownstone street was practically unheard of.

Jon Stone, the casting director, deliberately sought to make the cast as rich with color as he possibly could, bringing on a huge amount of Black talent such as Loretta Long, Matt Robinson, and Kevin Clash, as well as featuring Black celebrities as guest stars. Later, the show would expand its horizons, bringing on actors from Latino, Asian, Native American, and many more backgrounds.

White actors were and still are a minority on show.

In addition to letters and numbers, the purpose of Sesame Street is clear: make kids of color know that they’re smart, beautiful, and loved.

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It doesn’t get more explicit than this.

I want to point out this comment because it’s funny

You’re telling me this bitch isn’t Hispanic???

Anyway, these two were followed up by Reading Rainbow in 1983. And guess what?

That’s right. Non-white focus.

These three shows, (along with other, lesser-known programs like Lamb-Chops Play Along, Newton’s Apple, and Shining Times Station (who featured Ringo Starr himself?? seriously how did that happen and why does no one talk about it) and some other nostalgic favorites like Bill Nye the Science guy, The Magic Schoolbus, Arthur, and Thomas the Tank Engine) aired on the new PTV block, which evolved into PBS Kids in 1999, bringing along Between the Lions, Dragon Tales, and many more.

Arthur is another stand-out that I’d like to talk about— it doesn’t have the same racial focus of Sesame Street, but it does focus on different income levels. The characters have various housing situations, from apartments to mansions to no home at all.

It also takes cues from Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s in regards to talking about tough topics, though as Arthur has a slightly older target audience, it discusses things through stories rather than talking directly to the audience.

Cancer, religion, workplace discrimination, along with current (at the time) events such as 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina are all discussed on the show.

Another big focus on Arthur is disability. For once, they don’t stick a character in a wheelchair and then pretend he’s not in a wheelchair. A striking number of major characters either develop or get diagnosed with physical disabilities and/or neurodivergences, such as asthma, severe food allergies, and dyslexia, and they deal with them in very realistic ways.

A handful of minor characters have more obvious disabilities, and THANK GOD they go beyond the trite messaging of “disabled people can do everything abled people can do! everyone clap now!”

One episode in particular has the awesome message of “holy shit stop trying to help me all the time— it’s patronizing as fuck. I can get around just fine without you stepping on eggshells and trying to be the hero all the fucking time”

There are sooo many other shows I could talk about, but I can’t write about them all. I’m definitely gonna point out some more standout ones, though.

Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat

Created by Chinese-American woman Amy Tang

Dragonfly TV

Features a multitude of female and non-white scientists to foster an interest in science with kids in those groups

Maya & Miguel

One of the network’s first Hispanic-led shows

SciGirls

I shouldn’t have to explain what the goal of this one was.

Molly of Denali

When was the last time you saw a show that treated Native Americans as people? Much less a children’s show? 90% of the cast is Athabascan, and the show revolves around Athabascan culture, not shying away from topics like boarding schools and modern-day racism. Most of the writers are also Athabascan, and the show even has an official Gwich’in dub!

It’s this commitment to real, authentic social justice that makes PBS Kids so much different from its competitors. Could you imagine the Paw Patrol dog looking at the camera and earnestly discussing what happened to George Floyd? I don’t think so— but Arthur talked specifically about it, Sesame Street did an hour long special about race in general, and the network itself made a 30 minute special.

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Disney Jr. could never. (Other than trying to teach colorblindness, of course.)

I’m gonna have to cut this into two parts, since I just hit the image limit

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 1 month

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✨Dress Up, Part 2: The Ceremony✨

Well well well, looks like you guys won. You get a continuation of this fic that was meant to be a one shot lmao! I had some awesome people to bounce ideas off of and I couldn't do this without them. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's time for the wedding! But you know I can't go a chapter without writing a little smut hehe~

*** - Scene change ~~~ - Flashback

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: It's wedding day! And Lucifer is more than willing to try and convince you to the leave the reception early...

Warnings: 18+, smut, hand job, oral (m receiving)

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet..."

***

It had only been a week since the proposal and the wedding was already here. But this is what you both wanted; a nice quiet wedding with only a handful of people with everyone else in Hell being none the wiser. You had to beg Lucifer for the week you got in between, he was practically ready to say "I do" once he put that engagement ring on your hand. It may have seemed like you two were moving a little bit fast considering most weddings take months, sometimes years to plan out! But when you're marrying the King of Hell, there really was next to nothing to worry about when it came to your special day.

The new hotel was the perfect venue, complete with a beautiful ballroom that could rival any chapel on Earth. The guest list was extremely exclusive consisting of only the occupants of the hotel, minus one Radio Demon, not that he would attend even if he was invited. It was Charlie who suggested that he protect the hotel today from any threat that might make itself known. On top of that, Charlie was more than happy to be the officiant, as being the Princess of Hell granted her that authority. Money was no object to the Morningstar family, so no expense was spared.

But regardless of any of that, Lucifer couldn't help but worry. You had one other request for him after he popped the question.

~~~

"I hate to ask more of you after asking for a week to prepare," you started, putting on the last of your clothes that you had discarded during your fun little teasing display, "but..." Lucifer approached you suddenly and held your hand in both of his.

"My love, you can ask of me anything you wish. There is no limit when it comes to you. You've already given me the best gift of becoming my future bride. Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!" He leaned down and planted a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn't help but blush, he never failed to charm you.

"This may sound a little odd, considering what just took place a few minutes ago," you breathed out a sigh, "but...what would you say to refraining from any...intense intimacy?" Lucifer cocked his eyebrow and smirked, seemingly intrigued. "B-but only for this week, I promise! Kissing and cuddling would still be on the table, of course. And no deliberate teasing from me, that wouldn't be fair. I was just thinking that...I want our first night as a married couple to be special. And I figured holding off for the time in between would only heighten the experience. If that's not something you want, I completely understand that-MMPH," you were silenced by Lucifer's soft lips on yours.

"Oh darling, was that all?," he flashed his signature toothy grin at you. "That's hardly a request! I think that's a wonderful idea...n-not that I don't want to ravish you at any given time! But you're right, I couldn't imagine a better honeymoon than getting the chance to feel you again after being denied for a few days, even though it may feel like an eternity. I'll be on my best behavior; you have my word!"

~~~

And Lucifer was on his best behavior, for the most part, at least. There were a few instances where his hands had traveled a little too low on your body and some kisses became deeper than they should have. But both of you managed to make it through the week! But today was the day, and his anxiety was at an all-time high. You decided to sleep in separates rooms the night before, wanting the next time you saw each other to be at the altar. That was the plan, at least.

It had been a while since Lucifer had slept alone. Suffice to say he couldn't sleep. He assured you that he would be alright sleeping alone for just one night, but that ended up being easier said than done. The empty bed he laid in brought back painful memories of his first night without Lilith, something that still haunted him to this day. There would be times where Lucifer would wake up in a cold sweat, only to glance over to see you peacefully asleep, and he could breathe again. Anytime you felt him tug you closer to him in the middle of the night, you knew what had woken him up. He never hid his feelings from you when he confided in you about his ex, and you didn't mind that he would wake you when his nightmares overwhelmed him. You loved him and he loved you. You would never leave. So when you heard your door creek open in the middle of the night to see your fiancé standing ion the door frame, you only smiled and gestured him to you.

~~~

"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly, "I tried...I really did...I-I had a dream, a nightmare, you were there but you started to fade away in front of me. I reached out but it was no use. I woke up and…and you weren’t there, I panicked…I’m so s-sorry…”

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," you soothed and brought him into a tight embrace. You felt a tear that had fallen from his face make its way down your collarbone. "Don't cry, Luci, I'm not upset, not at all." You lifted his head up to wipe away his remaining tears. "Let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." You planted a kiss on his forehead, and from the dim red light that shown through your windows, you could see a small smile appear on his face. He laid down, his back facing you as you wrapped your arms around him and brought him flush to your chest. You could hear his breathing start to even about again.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured.

"You know I think the same thing every day," you respond.

He interlaced his fingers with yours at your words, squeezing you hand softly. "Promise me you'll never think that again. Please. You deserve everything and more."

"Alright," you conceded, kissing the back of his head, "as long as you promise me the same thing. You're my everything, and I'll spend the rest of my afterlife showing you that."

"Okay," he spoke weakly. You intertwined your legs with his, bringing yourself as close to him as possible. "I still intend to keep my other promise. I'll be gone before you wake up."

"You can stay as long as you need to," you whispered before drifting off to sleep once more.

~~~

True to his word, Lucifer had managed to sneak away before you woke. After adorning his typical attire, he found himself wandering the halls of the hotel, finally stopping when he reached the lobby. Thinking he was alone, Lucifer started talking to himself and paced back and forth like a madman.

"Was this a mistake? Are we moving too fast? No, no, no it's alright, it's fine! We're fine! Get a fucking GRIP, Lucifer! You're panicking for nothing! She loves you...right? Yes, yes of course she does! Why would she say yes to you?! Unless...NO! No, none of that! Relax! Need to relax..."

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

"WHAT THE-" Lucifer shrieked hearing the bartender's voice. After seeing Husk standing behind the bar, he breathed out a sigh of relief and clutched his hand to his rapidly beating heart. "Geez, warn a guy next time!" Husk huffed and returned to cleaning the whiskey glass he held in his hand. "How, uhh, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're a fucking mess right now," the cat demon replied, setting down his now clean glass. "Perhaps you need a bartender to talk to."

"Uhh, alright?" Lucifer made his way over to the bar and took a tentative seat on one of the stools.

"This is about your girl, ain't it?" Husk correctly guessed, "about the wedding?" Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Mhmm. You love this gal, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Lucifer answered almost defensively. "She's...my everything!"

Husk picked up another dirty glass to clean. "And has she given you any reason to doubt that she feels the same way?"

Lucifer huffed. "Well, I...no, no she hasn't. She's always been there for me. Listening to my ramblings, making me laugh, consoling me during the worst times, like last night...she's...she's just perfect!"

"So what's the holdup?" Husk asked after setting the other glass down.

"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Husker," Lucifer retorted, pushing his way back from the bar. "I loved Lilith with all of my heart and soul. And she said...that she loved me too. But then one day, she was just gone. Vanished. We fell together. We built a life here TOGETHER! And she just leaves? It's like the last 10,000 years together meant absolutely NOTHING!" Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure. "I-I can't lose her like like I lost Lilith. I just can't! I just want to be enough for her. I don't know what I would do if she...", he couldn't finish his sentence. He sat back down at the bar, resting his head in his arms. "The pain would break me..."

The sound of a glass sliding across the counter top caught Lucifer's attention. When he lifted his head, he noticed a full glass of scotch sitting next to him. "Calms the nerves," Husk spoke. Lucifer let out a deep breath and took a swig, choking slightly in the process not realizing how strong it was.

"Not much of a drinker," Lucifer admitted, setting the glass down.

"Sir, if I may..." Husk began.

"You can call me Lucifer," the angel smiled slightly.

Husk smirked. "Lucifer, all I can tell you that love is a vulnerable emotion. I understand that you're afraid. Afraid that history will repeat itself, that your love is not meant to be, and that you're going to end up alone all over again." Lucifer's face sunk, lowering his head against his arms once more. "But," Husk continued, "I know one thing for sure. That girl up there ain't Lilith."

Lucifer raised his head, now hanging onto every word from the bartender.

"If anybody thinks you aren't enough, that's their own fucking problem. And I can tell you that your girl ain't like that at all. She adores ya, can't get her to shut up about ya! Hell, I couldn't even tell you why she ended up down here in the first place! Another one of Heaven's fuck ups, for sure. But for your sake, I'm glad she did." Husk reached over and gulped down Lucifer's unfinished glass of scotch. "Be a shame if it went to waste."

Lucifer let out the smallest of laughs. "Thank you, Husker. And you're right, even in this God forsaken pit, she manages to make it just a little bit brighter. She saved me. And I'm going to devote every moment of my immortal life to her."

"Good to hear. Now..." Husk slammed his hand down on the counter, "get your shit together and go get ready! You got a wedding to attend."

*** You startled awake with the sound of knocking at your door. Your mind was still foggy, brief memories of last night flooded through your head. "Lucifer?" you sat up and looked around your room, but he was already gone, leaving you alone in an empty bed. He had kept his promise after all. There was another set of knocks at the door. "Coming!" you shouted as you ran to grab the robe you had left on the armchair. You opened the door to see Charlie bouncing giddily.

“Good moooorrrrnnniiiinnnngggggg~” she practically sang. “Did you sleep well? Are you ready for your big day?? Are we forgetting anything???” She rapid fired questions at you while you were still rubbing the crust from your eyes.

“Charlie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re more excited than I am,” you joked, gesturing her to come in. “In order: Yes, I slept…well. Yes, I’m ready...mentally speaking. And no, we’re definitely not forgetting anything. You’re the most meticulous and thoughtful person I know, you definitely have everything planned to a tee! You practically leapt out of your skin when we asked if you would officiate.”

"Aww, thank you!" Charlie smiled as she skipped into your room. "And of course! I would never turn down such an opportunity! Being the princess of Hell does have its perks! You can never be too prepared, ya know? Especially for a day that's so wonderful and magical and full of love!" You saw tears welling up in her eyes out of pure joy.

"Hey now, I thought I was the one that was supposed to be crying today!" you joked.

"Right, right! Sorry!" She wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed your hands excitedly. "Let's get your hair and make up done!"

Charlie dragged you over to the vanity and sat you down in the chair. You weren't one to wear much makeup typically, but Charlie insisted. And when Charlie asks for something, it's pretty much impossible to tell her no. So you obliged. But you made her promise that she would not go overboard, only the basics. Thankfully you showered the night before, so your hair just needed a good brush through. Charlie grabbed the hairbrush and began to comb through your hair, gently pulling out the knots out of the nasty case of bed head you were sporting. She truly was the kindest soul you've ever met. But that didn't stop you from feeling a little awkward.

"Charlie," you mumbled, "can I-oww...can I ask you something?"

"Yes, absolutely!" She grabbed the the already plugged-in curler and started working on adding some volume to your hair.

"Are...are you sure you're alright with this?" you asked timidly. "I mean...me and your father. I just don't want you to think I'm trying to, you know...replace your mother. I know I don't know much about her or your relationship but..."

Charlie put down the curler and kneeled down next to you, gently grabbing your hand. "You don't need to worry about that! I promise, it's alright with me. It's more than alright, actually! I haven't seen my dad this happy in a long, long time. He loves you so much! You wanna know how I know that? Because he tells me. Every single day. His eyes light up when anybody mentions your name! And I know you would never do anything to hurt him, or me. You're too kind and good hearted for that. I know it may feel like you're inserting yourself into the picture, but I'm more than happy to have you as part of our family! I know the love you have for my dad is genuine, and I wouldn't change a thing!"

A smile formed on your face. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Now," Charlie hopped up from the floor and grabbed the large make up bag sitting on the counter, “time to make magic happen! I have the perfect idea! Close your eyes and no peaking until I say so!”

*** You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as you stood in front of the closed ballroom doors. You knew just on the other side of that door was the love of your life, and he was waiting for you. Husk linked your arm with his, flashing you a warm smile. "You ready?"

You let out a few shaky breaths before you could answer him. "Y-yes."

"Don't worry, I gotcha," he comforted, "one step at a time, alright? Trust me, whatever you're feeling now, he was in much worse shape this morning. Nearly had to kick his ass to the altar myself. But I straightened him out for ya."

You could help but laugh. "Thanks, Husk. And thank you for walking me down. I know this isn't really a traditional wedding, but I appreciate everything you and everyone else have done for us."

"No thanks is necessary," Husk replied, "for what you do for Charlie and the hotel, it's the least I can do. You're a good one to be sure. And the King is damn lucky to have ya." You smiled and tightened your grip on Husk's arm as you heard the faint sound of music start to play on the other side. "It's time."

Without another word, the large wooden doors opened in front of you, and the music could be heard much more clearly now. The Bridal Chorus. Husk waited on your command as you took the first step. You scanned the room. You saw Vaggie and Cherri standing to one side, Angel off to the other, while Niffty skipped in front of you throwing a mix of flower petals and roaches. You noticed Charlie straight ahead of you in a lovely blue suit, a color you've never seen her wear before. You also took notice to the fact there didn't seem to be any organ in the room, despite the music that continued to play as you walked. You guessed it was some of Lucifer's magic. He really knew how to set the scene for the occasion.

Finally, your eyes found Lucifer. He looked at you as if you were the most angelic being he's ever laid his eyes on. You couldn't quite make out the details of his face yet, but you could tell that tears had begun rolling down his face. You saw his suit for the first time. A beautiful black velvet suit with embroidered gold detailing on the jacket. He looked like royalty.

Lucifer stared back at you, fighting every urge in his body to run to you and scoop you up in his arms. Your dress was immaculate. A stunning flowing sleeveless white dress adorned with fluffy scarlet feathers that were scattered across the skirt and completely covered the bodice. An homage to your future husband. You were only a few feet from him now. His smile could have lit the darkest of rooms. The tears continued to flow from his eyes, and you could feel tears threatening to leave yours as well.

"Deep breaths," Husk murmured to you before stepping to the side to join Angel. You inhaled deeply, holding your breath until you stood directly in front of Lucifer, only exhaling when he reached out and held your hands in his.

The music stopped. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear now.

Charlie cleared her throat. "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to join these two souls before us in holy matrimony. I understand that the couple have written their own vows." Charlie glanced your way and beamed. "Ladies first!" You smiled back at her then turned your full attention to Lucifer, staring lovingly and longingly into his eyes. You had spent the entire week practicing and memorizing your words for this very moment. You breathed in, and you breathed out.

"Lucifer, words cannot begin to describe how you make me feel. You have shown me so much compassion, understanding, care, and adoration that I had never experienced on Earth. My promise to you is that I will always stay by your side, I will never abandon you, and I will love you for the rest of my after life. You've changed my life for the better, and I will make sure that I do the same for you. You are my one true love, forever and always. I love you, my angel."

Lucifer pulled one of his hands away to wipe away the tears the refused to stop flowing. Angel pulled out a handkerchief and brought it over to him and began patting it across his cheeks. You looked at Charlie who had also started to cry. She quickly composed herself and turned towards her father. "D-Dad?" she squeaked out.

Once Lucifer was able to compose himself, he took hold of your hands once more. "My love, I have existed since before the dawn of creation. And in my thousands of years of existence, no one has brought me as much joy as you have. You came into my life suddenly, like a thief in the night, and stole my most precious possession. My heart. It is yours now, for eternity and even beyond. I promise that you will never know another day of sadness, of heartbreak, or of loneliness. My devotion to you is boundless and unfathomable and never ending. I am yours. I love you, my queen."

Razzle appeared in front of the two of you, displaying the silver wedding rings for each of you. You and Lucifer took your respective ring to to place on the other's hand.

"Lucifer," Charlie spoke through her sniffles "will you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife; will you love, honor, and cherish her, hold her up in the good times and the bad, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do, forever," he answered, sliding the ring onto your finger.

Charlie turned and repeated the question to you.

"Yes, I do," you proclaimed, sliding the ring onto his hand in the same manner.

"By the power vested in me, as princess of Hell, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

You and Lucifer smiled at each other, no longer able to hold back any of your tears. Lucifer cupped your face and brought your lips to his for a tender kiss. You heard the cheers from the others in the room, and you definitely heard Angel whistle as your lips connected. When you pulled apart, something had caught your eye. Your rings were glowing. Magic in the form of golden dust surrounded each of them, swirling around the metal bands.

"What's this?" You asked Lucifer, who didn't seem alarmed at all.

He chuckled. "You're the new Queen of Hell, my darling. This magic is a symbol. It signifies that you are no longer bound by the rules that govern the sinners; you are bound to me. You have free reign to travel anywhere you wish, including the other rings of Hell. You're now one of the most powerful beings in the realm! But we can get into the finer details later; for now," Lucifer pecked your lips once again, "let's celebrate!"

After wiping away her excessive tears, Charlie cleared her throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Morningstar!" The crowd cheered as you walked hand in hand with your husband back down the aisle.

"Who's ready to fucking PARTY?!" Cherri yelled behind you as you all made your way towards the bar in the lobby.

Drinks poured at the reception, everyone was cutting lose and having fun! You two had decided to partake in as many traditional reception activities as you could! Neither of you knew how you ended up with so much cake all over yourselves, but it was alright considering Lucifer easily snapped his fingers and both of you ended up back in pristine condition. You invited everyone to participate in the bouquet toss, but it was Vaggie who ended up with the flowers in the end. She absolutely failed to hide her blush from Charlie who was jumping for joy! But this next tradition was something Lucifer had really been looking forward to; the garter belt toss.

Ever the showman, Lucifer hiked up your dress to your thigh and rather than using his hands, he decided to use his teeth to pull the garment down. His head lingered near your thigh way longer than necessary, and you could Angel snickering as Lucifer dragged it down the length of your leg.

"Oh, you're gonna get it," you leaned down to whisper to him, hoping no one else could hear.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Lucifer retorted with the garter belt still between his teeth.

To no one's surprise, Angel was the one to catch the belt once Lucifer finally tossed it.

The reception was going off without a hitch. Everyone was having the time of their lives getting plastered and gorging themselves on the enormous buffet Lucifer hand conjured up. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a new purple dress; the lavender one that you really liked that you had tried on a week ago before you got yanked out of the dressing room by a certain horny angel. Thankfully, you two were able to go back to the store the next day to properly purchase it. You and Lucifer were given your own large round table so you wouldn't have to sit at the crowded bar. Luckily for Lucifer, this gave him easy access to you. As the reception went on and with no one being the wiser, Lucifer's hand found your thigh once more, gliding it up ever so slowly before you shot him a knowing glance.

"What do you say we leave early," he proposed innocently, "I have a wonderful surprise for my new bride once we're on our honeymoon."

You playfully grabbed Lucifer's wandering hand and pushed it down towards your knee. "Luci, it's only been an hour! You can't tell me you can't wait just a little longer, can you?"

Lucifer stuck out his lip and pouted sweetly. "Oh, but my love, have you forgotten? It's been an entire week! And you know how well behaved I've been, I am nothing if not a man of my word." You felt his hand begin its ascent on your leg once more. You didn't stop him. "But I can only be a gentleman for so long..."

You didn't want to admit it, but you were in the same boat as well. That week apart had been almost tortuous. But you were more than willing to wait until the party was over. Your husband, however, appeared to have a different idea.

Alright then.

Before his hand could climb any higher, your hand shot down immediately to his crotch. Lucifer bit back a yelp as he felt you palm him through his pants. His hand stopped all motion, but instead started digging into your thigh, ultimately trying to remain calm. But that task seemed nearly impossible with the way your hand continued its ministrations, his pants feeling tighter and tighter with every passing second.

"D-Darling, please..." he begged through his clenched teeth.

You grinned wickedly. "You want me to take care of you, Luci?" He nodded his head vigorously. "We're not leaving early. But, I'll help you out as a good wife should, yeah?" Lucifer panted, his nails now dangerously close to breaking through your skin. "Head to the restroom just down the hall. Give me a minute and I'll follow you. I'll knock three times to let you know it's me. I have a plan. No touching yourself, understand?"

"Y-Yes," he breathed. When he was sure no one was looking, he stood up from his chair as fast as possible before making his way down the hall. Once you saw him disappear around the corner, it was time to give yourself some cover.

"Angel!" you yelled across the room, waving your hands to flag him down. The spider demon turned his head and smiled. He said something inaudible to Cherri before making his way over to you.

"Hey there, pretty lady!" Angel bent over and folded is first pair arms on the table, "Congratulations on the new gig! Being Queen of Hell sure is a status boost!"

"Yeah, I still need time to process that," you admitted. "So Angel, can you umm, do me a favor?"

Angel stood up and slicked his hair back. "Oh, anything for the new member of the royal family! What can I do ya for, doll face?"

You let out a shaky breath. "Can you...how do I say this...cause some sort of distraction?" Angel raised an eyebrow. "I just need to take care of something real quick."

"Uh huh," Angel chuckled, "you need to take care of something? Or someone?~" You pursed your lips, a light blush dashed across your cheeks. You really should have known better than to try and tiptoe around your means of leaving with Angel. "That's what I thought. Don't think I didn't notice the King almost sprint out of here just now. Man is absolutely smitten with ya! But you'll get no judgement from me, baby, I know how it is! Consider this your wedding gift, I typically end up being the most distracting person wherever I go! How much time do you need?"

"Five minutes?"

"Oh honey, I think you're giving him way too much credit, especially considering the state he's in." Angel laughed, "I can give you three."

"Four."

"Deal," Angel stuck a hand out for you to shake. He was ready to turn away when he flashed you a wink. "Get ready!"

As soon as you heard Angel shout loud enough to grab everyone's attention, you got up from the table and followed Lucifer's path down the hall. Once you stood in front of the restroom door, you knocked on it three times just as you said you would. It took less than a second for the door to swing open and for Lucifer to pull you inside. He locked the door behind you and crashed his lips into yours. You pushed him up against the door as you slipped your tongue further into his mouth. He was devouring you as his hands gripped your hips.

"We don't have a lot of time," you said breathlessly, "we have four minutes."

"How did-HHNG," Lucifer wanted to question until you began to palm at his now very apparent erection through his pants again.

"Let's just say I owe Angel big time." You started to fumble with Lucifer's belt, pulling it off of his pants with a quick flick of your arm. Your hands worked at the button and zipper of his pants next, going almost too fast for you to properly hold anything. You gripped the hem of his pants and boxers and were about to pull them down together until Lucifer grabbed your wrists.

"Wait, wait! What about you?" he asked. Even in such a lust filled state, he still only ever thought about you. God, you really hit the jackpot.

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I appreciate it hon, but we really don't have the time to argue about this. Four minutes, remember? Probably closer to three now." You pulled your hands away from Lucifer's grip and went back to the hem of his pants, pulling down his boxers in the process, finally freeing his hardened cock that was already leaking precum. You placed your hands on either side of his hips, his back flush against the door. "You better tell me what you want quickly, Luci."

Lucifer gulped hard, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. "T-touch me...please...n-need you..."

Without another word, you moved to stand at Lucifer's side as your one hand gripped his shaft while the other cupped his mouth to keep him from making too much noise. "Shh, gotta be quiet, my love. You don't want the others to hear how your queen makes you feel." He nodded his head silently as you began to stroke him. You watched as precum dripped onto the floor below; it was obvious how pent up he was. You quickly picked you the pace as your hand moved up and down his cock, thumbing over the tip only for Lucifer to mewl into your hand and buck up into your touch. His breathing became more and more staggered by the second, he wasn't going to last much longer at this rate. But you knew you were running out of time and your hands alone were not going to be enough to finish the job. "Not a sound," you commanded as you released your hand from his mouth, dropping to your knees in an instant. Before Lucifer could protest, your mouth had already full engulfed his length. He threw his own hand over his mouth to muffle his screams as best he could. Your head bobbed up and down rapidly on his cock while stopping every few seconds to lap circles around his tip. He was close.

"F-Fuu-uuccckk," he whimpered, "I-I'm g-mmph...gonna c-cum...shitshitSHIT!" And almost on cue, you felt him empty himself inside you. Strings of hot cum hit that back of your throat while you continued to suck him off, helping him ride out his orgasm. Once he was finished, you let his now softened dick fall from your lips, not letting a single drop leave your mouth. You gracefully stood up and grabbed his belt that you had flung earlier and handed it to him.

"Feel better?" you whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

He turned his head to meet your lips once more. He always loved the taste of him on your mouth. "Immeasurably," Lucifer moaned into you.

"And only with a few seconds to spare!" Lucifer buckled his pants once more while you walked over to the sink and began soaking one of the wash cloths in cool water. You dabbed the towel on his forehead, attempting to cool him down. "Can't have you looking so disheveled, my king."

"I promise to make this up to you," Lucifer swore. "You should never be left unsatisfied."

You smiled and kissed him on the forehead sweetly. "My satisfaction is knowing I'm the only one who can pull those beautiful sounds out of you." Lucifer could help but look away from you in embarrassment. "Now, if you promise to behave for the rest of the party, let's just say I have a...proposition for you later tonight. I know exactly how you can pay me back." You unlocked the bathroom door and held it open for him. "Let's not keep our guests waiting!"

~~~

IT'S SO FUCKING LATE RIGHT NOW HOLY GOD I WAS ON A ROLL I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP! I hope you guys are ready for the honeymoon ;)

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #holy hell i just couldn't stop!#i think i beat my word count again haha #5100 WORDS LET'S GOOOO!!

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hana-no-seiiki · 9 days

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ALL YOURS.

tw/cw: yandere (more on the soft side tbh, barely appears), mentions of slavery. Power dynamics are whack. AFAB! Reader but GN! Pronouns. Some Aventio sprinkled in there.

HAPPY AVENTURINE DAY!!! ( thank you @rninies / @teabutmakeitazure / @harmonysanreads for informing me cause I wouldn’t have known otherwise)

“Who is this?” His eyes ran through the sight of your body, a nice and controlled pace yet swift nonetheless. You looked like a dead leaf if he was to be completely honest. Covered in soot, malnourished, fragile. Like you’d disappear with the slightest breeze. Then, his eyes paused, a mark — a branding on the right side of your neck.

But still, he was confused. What was the point of showing yet another slave to him? Was it a thinly concealed, sadistic way of reminding him that he was still shackled? That his freedom was nothing more than a mirage? An illusion?

His benefactor — owner — slowly lifted the veil that covered your face. Beautiful. He’d seen many faces by now, his own among others. But strangely yours reminded him of his past. A wave of euphoric nostalgia almost overwhelmed him.

“Open your eyes, little one.” Jade said with a wicked smile on her face. “I told you I had quite the gift. I was actually hoping to keep them as a . . . collectible. But then I found quite an interesting fact.”

You looked at him with eyes far too similar to his own. Cold, dead, empty. He could think of many other terms to use for yours. One of them including home.

“It seems that the Avgin’s blood will not be running dry all too soon. They’re all yours.”

“Quit staring at them like that.” Veritas tapped on his book. His face morphing from disturbed to mild annoyance every few seconds.

“Like what?”

“Like they’re an oasis deep within the desert. And you, a man starved for eons, waiting to drink them up until they’ve ran dry. Stop it. It’s disgusting.” Dr. Ratio gestured at you. You were practically a walking ‘owned by Aventurine’ signal at this point. From head to toe, covered in expensive objects. It was a statement to say the least, a warning to those that looked closer.

“You exaggerate. I am simply . . . deliberating.”

“Is it really this one?”

“Hm?”

“This reality.” Dr. Ratio placed the corner of his book on the blond’s forehead, “The reality where someone like you actually had the mental capacity to deliberate.”

“Oh don’t be too mean at this hour, Doctor.”

“Or what? You’d force me to find and get you from whatever hole you got yourself drunk in? Unfortunately that is something you’ve already burdened me with far too long ago.”

“I can take care of Mr. Aventurine, Doctor.” You appeared from behind the two. Your signature monotonous voice in tow.

Plaster immediately covered the man in question’s head. “Did anyone teach you manners? You don’t just silently approach someone—“

“I’m sorry.” You replied. Your face empty as a canvas an artist was yet to touch. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

For once, Kakavasha took his time, let his eyes wander and behold your form. One feature at a time.

“All mine.”

a/n: this was rushed and written in one sitting, but i wanted to release something at least for our boi ! will be back to hsr fics once penacony’s entire story/lore is out. i miss aeon of dreams! reader so much…

#aventurine #aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #yandere scenario

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pin-k-ink · 6 days

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possessory // kuroo tetsurou

tw ⇢ rivals to lovers, sexual tension, possessive kuroo, fingering, begging, finger-fucking, locker room sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, getting caught, marking, some yaku x reader if you squint

wc ⇢ 9.3k

a/n: my love for yaku shining through this fic. i’d to bite my knuckles trying to not write a threesome. luckily i’ve already planned something for my baby

The whistle pierced the heavy air like a gunshot, signaling the end of the heated practice match. You barely registered the shrill sound over the thrumming of blood in your ears as you panted harshly, chest heaving from exertion.

Your narrowed gaze remained locked onto the tall, rangy figure across the net - those sharp, watchful eyes that always seemed to glitter with something more feral than simple competition whenever you squared off. Kuroo's lips curved in that all-too-familiar razor's edge of a smirk as he raked his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead in one long pull.

The casual arrogance of the gesture made you grit your teeth against a low snarl. As if he didn't already know full well how obscenely distracting the subtle ripple of his arm and shoulder muscles could be when--

You viciously derailed that wandering train of thought before it could lead somewhere utterly unacceptable. There'd been enough heated incidents between you already without indulging a treacherous fixation on the physical. Even if Kuroo seemed hellbent on upending your restraint at every turn.

"Nice effort out there," he drawled loudly as the teams began separating to their respective benches. "I can definitely see some improvement from the last time we played."

The words were seemingly innocuous enough. But the low, gravelly delivery dripped with Kuroo's typical infuriating condescension. You felt your hackles rising instinctively at the spark of challenge banked in his goading stare.

"You're really working those compliments for all they're worth today, aren't you Kuroo?" you shot back acidly, pointedly raking your gaze over his sweat-soaked jersey with obvious disdain. "Need me to send you a thesaurus so you can freshen up that material a bit?"

Kuroo's eyes flashed briefly at the barbed retort, but the edges of that smirk only deepened further in a way that made your jaw tighten.

"If it ain't broke..." he trailed off with a one-shouldered shrug that you refused to let your eyes linger on.

Just like that, the thick undercurrent of animosity and unresolved tension reasserted itself between you. The energy sizzling in the air took on a distinctly more charged quality, like the first building pressure of an oncoming storm about to break. You could practically taste the torrid stirrings of heat and restless aggression prickling along your limbs.

This was nothing new in the undeniably volatile dynamic you and Kuroo had cultivated over innumerable practice matches and heated encounters. That endless cycle of provocation and denial destined to build towards...what end, neither of you ever seemed to acknowledge. But the friction generated by your clashing wills could be damn near scorching at times.

On the sidelines, you were vaguely aware of teammates shooting knowing looks back and forth, clearly no strangers to the blazing intensity you brought out in each other. Every subtle interaction between you and Kuroo seemed to bleed with unspoken tension and unsettled cravings that simmered just beneath the surface.

It had long been an open secret that your rivalry extended far beyond just the court itself. Though openly admitting as much remained strictly taboo.

Kuroo suddenly moved as if to step closer, an unreadable glint flickering briefly through those penetrating eyes. For a dizzying heartbeat, you thought he might continue provoking this simmering confrontation between you in a different, more incendiary direction.

Instead, Kuroo simply hooked his thumb at you in a deliberately casual gesture dripping with unearned arrogance, as per usual. "Keep telling yourself those little lies, kitten. I've still got plenty of ways to shut that smart mouth of yours that we haven't explored yet."

The heated innuendo landed like a physical blow, stealing your breath as your pulse kicked up a staggering notch. You refused to let your imagination indulge even a second's consideration of what depraved "methods" Kuroo could possibly have in mind. Some lines could never be uncrossed between your rivalry without irrevocably shattering everything.

So you settled for a derisive snort, turning on your heel and stalking away from that dark, all-too-appealing promise burning in his gaze. You refused to be the one to cave first and give Kuroo the satisfaction.

Just like always, the explosive friction between you would remain unresolved. No matter how urgently it simmered and begged for combustion, you would hold the line of restraint...

For now.

The charged encounter hung thick in the air as you tried and failed to shake off the lingering effects of Kuroo's taunts during the cool-down stretches. No matter how you willed your focus elsewhere, you were persistently, maddeningly aware of his presence across the gym floor.

Of the way he moved with that deliberately careless, arrogant swagger - all long, powerful limbs and sinuous grace as he bent and extended through the stretching forms. Every motion seemed calculated to snag your wandering attention, to goad your eyes into tracing the sculpted contours of muscle shifting fluidly beneath sun-kissed skin that glistened with a fine sheen of exertion.

You grit your teeth and averted your gaze stubbornly each time you caught it straying. But the phantom echoes of Kuroo's sinful murmurs about "shutting that smart mouth of yours" reverberated through your heated thoughts in an endless torrid loop.

Unbidden, your mind provided tantalizingly vivid flashes of just what form that insolent threat might take if he ever dared carry it out. You imagined the hot brand of Kuroo's mouth crashing against yours in a searing, breath-stealing kiss born of too much aggression and too little restraint. His calloused palms mapping out every whisper-soft inch of feverish skin as you both finally surrendered to the smoldering madness of your rivalry entirely.

The mental images proved so viscerally potent that you nearly missed the loud clatter of a water bottle being knocked to the floor a few feet away. You startled, cheeks flushing guiltily as you realized Yaku was eyeing you from the next mat over with clear amusement wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

"You're sure looking pretty spaced out over there," he commented far too innocently. "Everything...okay?"

Willing your features back to a carefully neutral mask, you shot your teammate a pointed look. "I’m fine, Yaku. Just still feeling it from the second set. Not sure where my head's wandering."

The lie felt hollow even to your own ears. But Yaku seemed wise enough not to press any further, simply nodding before continuing his regimen.

On the far side of the gym, you caught the briefest glimpse of Kuroo straightening up from his own stretches, running one long-fingered hand through his disheveled hair in a way that really shouldn't have been so distracting. His eyes found yours unerringly through the gaps and bodies between you. You tensed despite yourself, awaiting Kuroo's next inevitable flare of provocation.

For a long, heated moment he simply held your stare in silence, making an exaggerated show of slowly dragging his appreciative gaze over your flushed features and down the lines of your sweat-sheened torso. When next he met your gaze, his expression glittered with an utterly indecent gleam that made your pulse skyrocket unwillingly.

It was like he'd seen straight through your feeble attempts at restraint and composure. Like he knew with piercing clarity exactly where your wandering thoughts had gotten derailed just now, and was silently goading you to surrender that illicit trail entirely. The challenge issued in his heated stare was clear – keep denying this combustible charge smoldering between us and find out just how far I'm willing to push those boundaries.

You refused to be the one to break eye contact first, even as the air between you grew thick and heady. Even as desire bloomed like wild embers in the pit of your stomach in a way it absolutely should never have. Not for Kuroo, not your sworn rival and human catalyst for antagonism on and off the court.

And yet it burned there nonetheless, unconcerned with the rigid compartmentalization your common sense kept insisting upon. That insidious heat threatened to scorch you from the inside if you persisted in denying it outlet through even the most inconsequential of actions.

Another minute ticked by punctuated only by the harsh rasp of your breathing and Kuroo's cat-like observance. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally as if gauging the level of unraveling restraint behind your impassive front. Waiting to see if you would finally be the one to blink first.

You lifted your chin subtly in silent defiance. Daring Kuroo to escalate this latest confrontation between you to more scorching heights if he dared. You'd weathered far worse maelstroms of his undisguised provocation than this before, no matter how potent.

The hard line of his jaw flexed in mild approval at your steadfastness before at last Kuroo's lips curved in a sharply amused smirk. The one that never failed to slice through your serenity like the sharpest of blades.

"Don't hurt yourself, kitten," he drawled suddenly in that graveled rumble of a whisper that carried easily across the gym's stillness. "I know all about holding my breath for the things I really want."

The barely veiled innuendo in Kuroo's rasped words hit you like a physical gut punch, forcing you to strangle down the instinctive flare of molten heat that twisted low in your abdomen. He knew, that insufferable bastard knew exactly what effect his grating taunts had on you despite your best attempts at impassive defiance.

You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste copper, refusing to grant Kuroo the satisfaction of watching you react overtly. But the way his hooded gaze slowly raked over you made it clear he didn't need histrionics to read your body's traitorous responses loud and clear.

Kuroo's tongue swept out to drag deliberately along his bottom lip as you glared daggers back at him. The unhurried, vaguely obscene motion drew your eyes helplessly for a scorching second before you wrenched them away. You could have sworn you heard the low rumble of an amused chuckle from across the gym at your faltering composure.

The sudden jarring impact of a balled-up towel hitting your shoulder made you jolt violently. You whirled with a snarl already curling your lips, half-expecting Kuroo to have somehow slithered closer undetected just to continue provoking you.

Instead, it was simply Kenma eyeing you with that familiar half-lidded look of sardonic indifference - one earbud already dangling loose as he'd clearly sought to disengage from whatever this latest maelstrom of tension was between you and your so-called rival.

"You two need a cold shower or something?" he remarked flatly, seemingly oblivious or uncaring of the molten quality his observation took on. "Cut the foreplay and just fuck already. Could smell the unresolved sexual tension from across the gym."

You choked on a shocked inhalation at Kenma's blunt assessment, heat flooding your cheeks in a dizzying rush. The dull roar of abruptly resumed activity within the gym filled your ringing ears as others seemed to freeze mid-motion at his crass outburst. A quick glance towards the other side of the court revealed Kuroo staring back with eyes comically wide, lips parted around what was probably intended as a reflexive denial.

The awkward tension expanded with each passing second it went unacknowledged until finally Kenma rolled his eyes tremendously and simply stuffed his earbud back in, unmoved. The courts slowly came alive again bit by bit, the disjointed sounds of squeaking sneakers and voices just on the edge of too-loud once more filling the air.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Kuroo straightening his shoulders beneath the weight of your heated stare, almost like steeling himself for your answering volley. But rather than issue another round of barbed taunts, you simply clenched your jaw, grabbed your jersey and spun sharply on your heel to stalk from the gym before anything else could further test your tenuous grip on restraint.

Once in the empty locker room, you leaned against the blissfully solid surface of your locker and allowed yourself a shaky exhale. Your heartbeat felt like it was rabbiting out of control as you ruthlessly quashed the wanton direction your thoughts insisted on straying.

Kenma's crass remark shouldn't have landed with such searing effect, you told yourself sternly. Shouldn't have made your imagination conjure up such deliriously vivid fantasies about Kuroo pressing you up against the cool steel at your back right now as you finally surrendered to--

"Fuck," you growled harshly, pressing the heels of your palms against your traitorous eyes until spots of color burst across your vision.

You couldn't keep allowing your bitter rivalry with Kuroo to careen so perilously close to the edge of oblivion repeatedly. To let your cataclysmic friction continue escalating to such a razor-sharp precipice every time he proved insufferable enough to provoke every simmering frustration and desire boiling over inside you.

No matter how infuriatingly, inexplicably attractive you found the insufferable prick, you simply couldn't keep indulging these...what? Wild, indecent fantasies about him pressing you up against rough tile as you finally --

You took a deep steadying breath to abort that train of thought before it could derail completely off the rails into utterly forbidden territory. Again. Some lines could never be uncrossed between you and Kuroo without shattering the foundations of whatever this frenzied push-and-pull dynamic existed upon.

No matter how tempting the prospect sometimes felt.

The scalding shower spray did little to rinse away the lingering haze of heated frustration still clouding your thoughts. If anything, the punishing jets of water needling over your taut muscles seemed only to amplify the electric tension still humming beneath your skin in the wake of your latest encounter with Kuroo.

You grit your teeth against a low growl bubbling up your chest as your mind unhelpfully replayed the smug curl of his lips around those parting taunts - challenging you, practically demanding you admit some undeniable undercurrent still burned white-hot between you despite your constant denials.

Beneath the thundering spray, your hands clenched and unclenched in a vain attempt to rein in the roiling mixture of bitter antagonism and darker, more primal cravings that invariably got stirred up whenever Kuroo slipped beneath your defenses. You couldn't seem to prevent flashes of slick skin and molten friction from battering against the shattered remnants of your restraint.

The memories felt so viscerally potent in the aftermath of his provocation that you swore a strange staticky charge was building along your limbs. Like thunderheads rapidly converging toward their inevitable lightning strike. Wild, pent-up energy begging for release in an unbridled eruption you knew better than to give voice or form to.

With a sharp exhale, you braced your forearms against the shower tile and allowed the scalding spray to rinse over your neck and shoulders as you hung your head, trying in vain to steady your ragged breathing and derailed composure. Try as you might, you couldn't seem to shake the persistent imagining of Kuroo's larger, rougher hands replacing yours in mapping the slick trails of water over your overheated skin.

You swallowed hard against the vivid fantasy, against the wanton direction it kept trying to careen down despite your best efforts at restraint. Kuroo's shadowed silhouette would be so infuriatingly at home behind you like this - a predatory prowl straight from your most fevered subconscious yearnings as he pressed himself flush against your back with a low rumbling exhale that resonated to your very core.

The intrusive daydream flickered with dizzying lucidity behind your tightly screwed eyelids. Every slick inch of heated muscle rippling beneath your hands as you pivoted to seal your lips against his in a searing collision of unleashed desire. Kuroo's rough palms branding blazing paths down slippery expanses of soft skin as you arched into his maddening caresses in silent, desperate plea to finally explore those molten hungers to their conclusion...

With a choked groan, you whirled and pressed your forehead against the cool tile in an attempt to forcibly evict your tormentor from weaving his provocation into such a deliriously vivid fantasy. But the afterimage of his taunting silhouette remained burned onto the backs of your eyelids alongside the whispered promise of indecent transgressions, should you ever finally yield to that unchecked inertia carrying you straight towards them.

A dizzying shudder lashed through your overwrought frame as an anxious noise close to a whine escaped your trembling lips. You couldn't do this, couldn't keep allowing Kuroo to effortlessly provoke you to such maddening heights of frustrated longing and combustible lust with only a few heated looks and expertly wielded taunts.

It was like battling the inescapable allure of a riptide, the seductive siren call of its irresistible pull growing stronger and more irresistible every time you slipped beneath its churning rip currents before somehow wrenching yourself back to the surface at the last gasping moment. How long until even the most monumental force of will proved too feeble to keep dragging you back from the brink?

Kenma's crass words about cutting the "sexual tension" echoed unwanted through your whirling thoughts. You tried to swallow back the imagery his crude accusation summoned up, but some details still crept in past your battered restraints.

You. And Kuroo. Tangled up in a fevered, inevitable conflagration of slick heat and molten friction, napalm-bright desires burning until you were utterly consumed in a blast of searing rapture…

With a snarled curse, you reluctantly killed the shower spray - unable to escape your own torturous libido in the steamy confines any longer. Perhaps some fresh air might finally clear your head enough to dull these relentless indecent urges before Kuroo inadvertently provoked you into fulfilling Kenma's crass prediction at last.

The locker room feels oppressively warm and stifling as you emerge from the showers, skin still tinged pink from the scalding spray's futile attempt to rinse away your lingering frustrations. A thin sheen of perspiration almost immediately rekindles across your flushed chest and brow.

You swipe your forearm roughly across your hairline, trying and failing miserably to ignore the way rivulets of water trace tantalizing paths over your collarbones and breasts, down the taut planes of your abdomen. Each shimmering droplet's wake seems to leave pinprick trails of heightened sensitivity in its wake, maddeningly conspicuous against your overheated awareness.

With an annoyed grunt, you pull open your locker and reach for the thin cotton undershirt draped over the top shelf...only to freeze as an unmistakable, heady musk suddenly wafts up to assault your senses.

That rich, earthy, and utterly masculine fragrance feels like a physical blow lancing straight through your already compromised restraint. Instantly, you're assaulted with a barrage of unshakably vivid imagery unlike anything that has plagued you previously beneath the showers.

Kuroo looming over you, eyes hooded and lips parted around harsh exhales of barely leashed hunger. The heat of his solid frame pressing you back against unforgiving chill steel as electric shockwaves of friction build to maddening crescendos between you. His body branded like a searing brand against the sweat-slicked expanses of your bared skin as you arch and writhe beneath the exquisitely rough mapping of his hands, thighs parting reflexively in a wanton entreaty for deeper indulgence—

"Fuck," you snarl, hurling the offending garment across the small space like it has bitten you. Your breath saws harsh and shallow as you recoil from the vivid flashes still bombarding you from all sides.

That obscenely provoking scent...it hadn't been your shirt you'd started to pick up at all, you realize with a delayed sort of horror rapidly turning your belly to soured granite. The realization brings with it a whole separate series of incendiary imagery you are utterly powerless to prevent from sparking behind your tightly screwed eyelids like the world's most sadistic filmreel.

You, burying your face against that thick knit of soft fabric and breathing deeply of the headily masculine notes lingering there. Of salt and skin and vaguely woodsy musk as you try in vain to chase memories of their original source, to resurface those haunting fantasies like some lecherous addict chasing their next molten hit.

Perhaps even allowing one hand to trail slowly down your slick torso, fingertips blazing scorching paths southward as lurid shadow-flashes of Kuroo's sharply angled features fill your mind's eye. Of his heated gaze darkening to feral approval as you unapologetically surrender propriety to slake those smoldering cravings he's systematically and expertly stoked within you past all possible willpower to deny.

With a violence that belies you, you wrench your eyes back open to inspect the contents of your locker more closely. Sure enough, hanging carelessly amongst your own neatly folded pile at the very bottom is one of Kuroo's unmistakable crimson team jerseys. Your fingers spasm against the urge to reach down and tunnel into the temptingly soft knit, to willingly soak in that unholy musk until you're dizzy and molten with the imprint of him in your most forbidden fantasies.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes tightly shut again as a broken gasp rattles from between your clenched teeth. This just keeps getting worse, that tantalizing scent rapidly proving itself your own personal brand of siren's call towards crashing into the deepest pits of sin and self-indulgence—

The sound of an opening door freezes you like a stunned animal in your tracks. Your entire body snaps rigid with tension as your pulse kicks up several panicked notches, utterly dreading whoever might now bear witness to your clear unraveling.

Heart thundering in your ears, you slowly crack one eye back open with trepidation...only to feel the weight lift somewhat as Shizuku, one of your teammates came cautiously around the corner, cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," she stammers, clearly flustered at having stumbled upon you in this state. "I didn't realize anyone was still in here. I can come back later!"

You wave a dismissive hand before she can retreat, not quite trusting your voice not to come out incriminatingly wrecked just yet. Trying to regain your composure, you attempt to slow your ragged breathing as subtly as possible.

Shizuku nods hesitantly, not seeming entirely convinced as her sharp gaze continues raking over you with growing concern. "Are...are you feeling okay? You look really flushed."

The obvious worry in her tone makes guilt churn unpleasantly in your gut. You can only imagine what sort of indecent, overwrought state she's finding you in right now. A vivid flash of her somehow catching you red-handed while giving in to your wanton urges ricochets through your mind, making you swallow thickly against a rising blaze of heat.

Desperately, you shake your head in an attempt to physically dislodge the utterly unacceptable fantasy before it can take seed. Pushing a tight smile onto your lips, you wave Shizuku forward reassuringly.

"I'm fine, really!" you insist in a voice that thankfully doesn't waver as much as you'd feared. "Just...stepped out of a really hot shower is all. Probably going to head out soon anyway."

Shizuku visibly relaxes at your answer, offering a relieved smile. "Oh good, I'm glad it's nothing serious then!" She steps over to her own locker and begins digging through her gym bag without a second thought.

You let out a shaky breath, using her presence as a convenient excuse to turn your back and refocus on getting dressed and out of here before another intrusive fantasy tries to take root.

You stare at the rumpled crimson jersey with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Of course his scent had to linger cloyingly around the fabric in a way your senses couldn't seem to ignore, even after that shockingly scalding shower.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, you reluctantly snatch up the borrowed top and give it another inspecting look. There's a faint smear of deodorant along the collar line and a few scattered strands of short black hair stubbornly clinging to the soft cotton weave. Unmistakable signs of repeated wear and the masculine essence now permanently embedded into every delicate thread.

Your pulse immediately kicks up as new waves of heated compulsion crest over you at being surrounded by Kuroo's intimate essence like this. But grinding your teeth hard, you resolutely refuse to feed the treacherous undercurrents of want that seem insistent on cresting to the surface at every provocation from him.

No, you're determined to get yourself under control here. To put some distance between the unwelcome distraction he's become and regain a clear head once more. If putting on Kuroo's clothes helps provide any sense of closure regarding these increasingly indecent preoccupations...well, you're desperate enough to try just about anything at this point.

Before your resolve can waver any further, you slide the jersey up and over your head - the soft knit sliding easily over your still-damp skin and clinging to every curve of your torso like a second skin. Almost immediately you're enveloped in the smoky, vaguely citrus-tinged aroma of Kuroo's body wash and deeper musk. The disconcertingly familiar scents seem to drape you in a suffocating veil of molten heat that licks dangerously at the edges of your restraint.

You stagger back a few steps, chest heaving as fresh waves of phantasmic imagery come swarming like sharks to chum. Reveries of Kuroo's heated stare boring into you as he takes in the sight of you in his clothes with dark, burning approval. Images of him advancing with leonine grace, callused hands slipping beneath the loose hem to sear scorching trails over the naked, sweat-slick expanses of your--

With a frustrated growl, you grasp fistfuls of the offending fabric and yank it vigorously away from your sticky skin in a desperate attempt to gain some reprieve. But the damage is already done - the mere suggestion of being swathed in anything bearing Kuroo's personal essence is enough to trigger the instantaneous mental avalanche of indecent cravings and salacious fantasies you struggle so mightily against.

You pant harshly, feeling uncentered and perilously close to coming utterly unraveled like never before. How are you supposed to withstand this constant barrage of molten provocations from your sworn rival? How much longer can you even remain within your own right mind before surrendering to the siren's call towards combustible freefall?

Riding on the crest of that maddening spiral of thought, you make a desperate decision. With horribly shaky fingers, you grab at the button seam of your soaked gym shorts and frantically tear them open. You don't dare look down, don't want to see what sins your hands might inadvertently commit beneath the allure of Kuroo's infused jersey.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut tight and exhale a steadying breath as you shimmy out of the last of your clothes. You have to get a grip, have to focus your spiraling thoughts on literally anything else in this instant before you find yourself sleepwalking towards the edge of a point of no return.

It's only once your traitorous, damp gym wear lays discarded on the tile floor that you finally find the courage to crack one lid open hesitantly. When no fresh barrage of illicit visions immediately assault you this time, you gradually allow your death-grip on the jersey's hem to loosen.

There's still no question that wearing this small piece of Kuroo's essence so intimately against your naked skin feels nothing short of debauched. Like you've willingly attired yourself in sin made fabric in an act of lurid indulgence. But whether it's the cortisol dump from your panic, or simply that you've now grown painfully accustomed to the potency of his scent and provocation, you're no longer drowning in the tsunami of wanton cravings from only moments ago.

In fact, the steady drape of the already sweat-dampened jersey now feels refreshingly cool and grounding against your heated flesh. Like the familiar, lived-in scents enveloping you no longer hold the power to summon such incendiary visions - at least not in the sheer vast torrents they previously wrought.

You take a deep, cleansing breath and instantly feel some small fraction of clarity beginning to return. With it comes the growing certainty that letting Kuroo and your relentless rivalry send you careening down such lascivious mental spirals is both self-destructive and foolish.

The hard choice crystallizes with that clear-eyed realization - by putting your own scent and essence directly over his, you can gain back the upper hand in this personal battle toward retaining your restraint. By making Kuroo's jersey unequivocally yours through sheer force of intimate proximity, you neuter its power to continually push you towards mental unravelings of indecency.

You nod decisively at that plan of attack, already feeling some grounded sense of self-possession return.

Your first order of business after dealing with this inappropriately tempting distraction is returning Kuroo's clothes, of course. But damned if you won't savor a small sense of petty victory over regaining sovereignty over your turbulent thoughts and want first.

Then you can return to plotting ways to get deliciously even with your callous tormentor for all the maddening provocations and heat he's incited within you lately...

With your fragile sense of restraint regained for now, you quickly gather up your discarded gym clothes and shove them into your duffel bag, not wanting any more lingering reminders of Kuroo's scent messing with your hard-won clarity.

You move with renewed determination, trying not to dwell too long on the deliciously deviant thrill of simply existing in nothing but your rival's loose jersey while you prepare to leave the locker room. There's no point denying how utterly and deliciously illicit the sensation feels against your bare skin. But rather than unraveling you towards indecency once more, the mere fact that you've asserted control over the intimate situation helps keep those more prurient impulses at bay.

Still...that doesn't prevent the faintest tendril of heated want from curling low in your belly at the unmistakable mental flash of Kuroo's expression should he happen to stumble upon you like this. Of the blazing trail his gaze would no doubt scorch across every inch of visible skin as his eyes hooded with smoldering surprise and primal, undisguised hunger.

You bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to taste copper at that vivid imagining, feeling fresh pinpricks of arousal lancing through you. As always, the merest consideration of Kuroo's intense, provocative presence proves to be like singeing tinder to your subconscious libido - threatening to spark into a conflagration of wanton thoughts and indecent urges if left unchecked.

Shoving down that dangerous trail before it can consume you utterly once more, you quickly shoulder your bag and stride for the exit with as much purpose as you can muster. You're so focused on wrestling back control of your derailed restraint that you nearly crash headlong into Yaku as he rounds the corner, clearly on his way in after practice.

You both freeze mid-stride, eyes going wide as you take in each other's equally stunned expressions. For a longmoment the awkward silence stretches out between you, punctuated only by the sounds of your harsh breathing loud in the tiled stillness.

Then finally, seeming to find his voice first, Yaku lets out a low whistle as his sharp gaze rakes over you in one long, assessing sweep. "Well well...don't you look pretty cozy there, babydoll," he remarks, pitching his tone somewhere between casual observation and wry insinuation.

You feel heat flood your cheeks despite your best efforts, suddenly hyperaware of just how utterly compromising this whole situation must appear to any outside observer. Kuroo's jersey barely grazes the tops of your thighs, leaving the long toned lengths of your legs completely exposed and tantalizingly on display when paired with nothing else.

"Yaku, I - it's not what it looks like, I can explain--" you begin hastily, shame and embarrassment vying for control in your rasping tone.

But he simply shakes his head with a knowing grin, cutting off your flustered protests before they can truly take root. "Don't worry 'bout it, babydoll. Not my business to judge, and it sure ain't my place to cockblock either. Just tell that smug bastard Kuroo I want my fucking jersey back sometime this year if he's gonna be loaning it out like this."

With a wink and a shit-eating grin, Yaku saunters around your frozen form and continues on into the locker room, whistling cheerfully beneath his breath all the while. You can only gape after him, dizzy with equal parts embarrassment, annoyance, and grudging amusement at just how casually he apparently accepts stumbling across what he assumes to be the aftermath of some secret tryst between you and your hated rival.

Yet despite the overall awkwardness of the situation, some profoundly petty part of you also feels an innate thrill at the idea of Kuroo finding out you've been traipsing around in his clothes like some deliciously insolent afterglow.

The thought of watching those sharp features of his cloud over with displeasure and jealous possession lights an undeniable flare of wicked satisfaction in the depths of your psyche. You can't quite smother the devilish smirk that quirks your lips at the mere idea of provoking such spikes of dark territoriality from your arrogant rival over you flagrantly disregarding the "boundaries" between you in such a salacious manner--

Your molten chain of thought is brought up short, however, as another familiar figure comes prowling around the corner with the sort of leonine confidence that immediately sends a frisson of electric awareness zinging down your spine. For a dizzying instant, it's like every scintillating erotic daydream you've been battling lately roars to vivid, lurid life right before your very eyes.

There's Kuroo, strutting in with that same loose-limbed cockiness you've come to expect, likely fresh from pushing his own training regimen to its limits as usual. His practiced ease falters perceptibly as he clocks the fact that you're not only still here, but...well.

You watch with thirsty relish as those piercing amber eyes blow wide in a potent combination of shock and molten male-appreciation - the unmistakable signs of desire and possessive outrage already warring behind them as they blaze over every exposed inch of skin you've left available to his perusal.

"The fuck, kitten?" he finally manages in a slightly strained growl. "You just couldn't resist helping yourself to what's mine, could you?"

You shrug one shoulder lazily, not even trying to feign innocence as you let your gaze blatantly roam over his frame in return. "Don't act so scandalized, Kuroo. It's not like you've never wanted to see me in this state before."

His nostrils flare at your brazen words. You can see the way his throat works as he swallows thickly. "That's a dangerous assumption to be making there, sweetheart," he bites out, clearly trying to regain some veneer of control.

Chuckling lowly, you hook a finger into the jersey's neckline and tug it aside just enough to expose a teasing glimpse of your collarbone and the swell of your breasts. "Is it though? Or are you just getting flustered by how easy it'd be to peel this off me and see what other bad decisions I've made?"

A muscle ticks in Kuroo's clenched jaw at that. He takes a single predatory step closer, movements tight like a compressed spring as his eyes darken perceptibly. "You never did know when to quit provoking things you can't handle, kitten."

You hold his smoldering stare boldly. "Maybe I'm just finally acknowledging things I've wanted to provoke all along."

The loaded suggestion seems to snap the final threads of Kuroo's restraint. A low rumbling growl reverberates from deep in his chest as he surges forward in one sinuous, barely leashed movement. You only have a split-second to react before his broad frame is looming over you, caging you back against the lockers as he braces an arm above your head.

"Careful what you wish for, babydoll," Kuroo breathes in a horribly tempting rasp right against the pulse point of your throat. His free hand skates up beneath the hem of the jersey to sear over the bare skin of your inner thigh. "I'm not feeling too generous with things that belong to me right now."

Any provocation or pithy response dies on your lips as those calloused fingertips drag a scorching trail higher. Instead, all that escapes is a shaky exhalation that Kuroo seems to drink in like a fine vintage as his lips curve in a predatory smirk.

"That's what I thought," he rumbles in that gruff, smoky tone that vibrates through you in delicious waves. "Now why don't you be a good little thief and show me exactly what sins you've been coveting, kitten?"

The low, carnal rumble of Kuroo's challenge hangs thickly between you as that large, calloused hand continues blazing a scorching path up the sensitive inner expanse of your thigh. You can't quite muffle the trembling whimper that stutters up from your chest as those questing fingertips dare to drift ever higher beneath the loose hem of the jersey.

"That's it, kitten..." he purrs in a voice made viscous and ragged by naked want. "No more pretenses now that we've reached the inevitable conclusion of those teasing little games of yours."

Kuroo's free hand suddenly winds into your hair, not quite gentle yet not overtly harsh either as he guides your head back with a subtle tug. The new angle leaves the long vulnerable expanse of your throat deliciously exposed and straining against the first delicate blossoms of bruising kisses he presses there like sin-soaked brands.

"This is what you were begging for all along, isn't it?" he rasps against your feverish skin between each indecent new imprint of his lips and tongue. "All those brazen little taunts and glimpses of temptation you couldn't resist flaunting right in front of me. Like some shameless siren calling out for her reckoning."

His wicked mouth has found that one spot just below your jaw that never fails to rob the strength from your limbs. You tremble violently as Kuroo laves his scorching tongue over that sensitive point in clear exploitation, surrendering a stuttering keen of pure rapture that seems to spur him on like a drug.

"Fuck, kitten...do you have any idea what it took not to lose control and take what's mine with my bare hands whenever you bared your slutty little neck for me?" he growls with heartfelt vehemence even as his free hand continues its molten trek higher and higher beneath the jersey's hem. "How many times I've had to wrestle down the urge to mark every single inch of you in ways you'd never forget just who those sweet little sounds belong to?"

That large, rough palm finally, blissfully finds its inevitable destination between your parted thighs. You shatter utterly at the first undeniable caress of deft fingers slicking through your embarrassingly wet folds. Kuroo growls deep approval at the state of utter ruin you've been reduced to by his carnal words and touches alone.

"Look at you...so fucking needy and desperate for me already," he rumbles with that unholy confidence only a man utterly assured in his dominance can possess. "And to think you tried to lecture me about teasing...you've spent who knows how long just aching to be taken apart like this."

You whine shamelessly, head thrashing against the unyielding steel of the lockers at your back as two thick fingers find your entrance and begin circling in maddeningly light, teasing strokes that scatter every coherent thought to the winds.

"P-Please..." you hear yourself whimper in a broken, debauched rasp that only seems to make Kuroo's eyes blaze darker with fresh coals of sin-steeped possession igniting behind them.

"Please what, kitten?" he demands in that low, ritualistic timbre that somehow reaches straight down into your very core and seizes every hidden erogenous zone in its grip. "Use that messy little mouth and beg properly for what a desperate little slut like you so clearly needs from me."

"Kuroo, fuck- I need you to...I need you inside me, please!" The words tumble from your lips in a heedless slurry of desperation that would have shocked your more restrained self into mortified silence. But here, now, with those large fingers still lazily circling your molten entrance as he raptly drinks in every debased plea, nothing else seems to matter.

In one smooth motion, Kuroo's hand leaves your sweat-dampened hair as he hitches the jersey's hem higher in a wordless command you swiftly obey - until the garment is rucked up to allow his searing gaze full view of the sinful ministrations he's reduced you to. Of just how wrecked and shattered you've become beneath his skilled touches and unrepentant provocations at last.

"That's it, open those gorgeous fucking legs for me and watch just how thoroughly I'm going to relieve you of these indecent little cravings once and for all," he vows in a growl dripping with decadent sin and virile promise.

A single broad fingertip finally, blissfully delves into your soaked folds - breaching the snug walls of your entrance with the sort of languorous, deliberate pace that speaks volumes of the unhurried plans Kuroo has for your ruin. A second blunt digit follows not long after, slowly and carefully working its way deeper into the tight sheath of your pussy, stretching the untouched muscles in the most toe-curling, obscenely exquisite agony imaginable.

"Christ, kitten, you're so fucking tight..." Kuroo growls, a raw note of lust and male-appreciation bleeding into his voice as he takes in the sight of his fingers buried deep in your fluttering, dripping core. "Just look at how eagerly your slutty little cunt is trying to suck me in even deeper...tell me, are you this starved for my cock, or just that desperate for a good hard fucking?"

"Fuck, Tetsurou, don’t talk like that-!"

You break off in a keening gasp as Kuroo's thumb finds your clit and begins working the engorged bundle of nerves with slow, precise movements. His other hand still holds the jersey's hem up and out of the way, giving him a perfect view of his fingers pistoning slowly in and out of your soaked depths.

"What's wrong, kitten?" he purrs with an evil chuckle, leaning in until his breath scalds hotly against your ear. "You don't like the truth being laid out before you like this? Admit it, you're soaking wet just thinking about me filling you up until I'm the only thing you can think about anymore."

"I-It's not like that, please, you're driving me crazy--!"

"That's exactly the fucking point, sweetheart." Kuroo punctuates his assertion with a particularly vicious thrust that makes you mewl and arch into him. "Now stop holding back and tell me exactly what I want to hear, or I'll keep making a mess of your pretty little cunt until you can't remember how to speak anymore."

Your eyes fly wide open at that threat. "Kuroo, I swear to god, if you don't finish what you've started, I'm going to--"

"What, kitten?" Kuroo growls, teeth finding the tender juncture of your throat and jaw in a savage nip that sends a shockwave of electric sensation straight through you. "Gonna try and fuck yourself on my fingers until you come? Is that what you want, to ride my hand and fuck yourself silly while I watch?"

"Kuroo-!"

"Then go ahead," he commands with a feral, carnal sort of relish. "Ride my fingers and prove how much you need this, kitten. Let me see just how depraved a slut you really are, and I'll give you everything you've been begging for."

"Y-you bastard, I swear, I'm going to kill you!" you choke out as your hips begin bucking up against his hand of their own volition.

But rather than taking offense at your weak insult, Kuroo simply flashes that wolfish smirk that's haunted so many of your lurid fantasies. His amber eyes bore into you with a burning intensity that makes something primal and instinctual twist and writhe within you.

"Oh, don't worry, kitten. I fully intend to fuck you into submission, right here and now, just the way you've always wanted. That is, unless you'd rather beg me on your knees like a good little girl to fill your pretty, empty cunt with my cock and fuck you like the greedy little slut you are."

At his filthy promise, an electric charge zings down your spine and pools like liquid fire low in your belly. You feel yourself tightening around his fingers like a vise, hips bucking wildly in search of that final, elusive threshold of release as Kuroo continues working your clit mercilessly.

"Come for me, kitten," he breathes in a guttural rasp that resonates with something far more fundamental and bestial. "Come for me now."

Like a puppet cut from its strings, your entire body seizes up. Your back arches almost painfully as a scream rips itself from the back of your throat - a sound so wild and animalistic, you scarcely recognize the wanton creature it's torn from.

The force of your climax rips through you with the same white-hot intensity of a lightning strike, making you buck and thrash wildly against the unforgiving steel behind you. The pleasure is so acute, so agonizingly blissful, it's as if every nerve ending has been stripped raw and exposed to the elements.

It feels as if your release goes on forever, wave after wave of unadulterated pleasure crashing through your trembling limbs and wringing a steady, high-pitched keen from the very core of your being. It's only Kuroo's free hand coming up to cover your mouth that smothers the wanton sounds of ecstasy tumbling from you without restraint.

The world narrows to the sensation of his strong, calloused hand pinning you down with easy dominance. To the feeling of his fingers pumping slow and steady within the spasming clench of your oversensitive walls, as if wringing every possible drop of pleasure from your spent body.

It's a full minute or so before the world begins to gradually filter back in through the haze of blissful release. As it does, you become gradually aware of the way your entire body is still trembling with small aftershocks. Of the way Kuroo's dark head is pressed into the hollow of your shoulder, his lips moving as if in prayer as he breathes you in like some rare perfume.

When he finally pulls away to meet your gaze, his expression is almost reverent. "There she is," he murmurs with a soft chuckle, eyes warm and fond as they roam across the slack lines of your face. "I've been waiting a long time to see you looking that undone, kitten."

You swallow past a suddenly dry throat, the last vestiges of euphoria still buzzing through your veins as you try to process the magnitude of what's just happened. Of the way the heat and tension between you has reached its inevitable, combustible conclusion at last.

But rather than being sated or even satisfied by the act, a fresh wave of molten want immediately re-ignites like a furnace in the pit of your belly. Suddenly the memory of his calloused fingers buried inside you feels like an itch beneath your skin that can't be satisfied with anything less than the fullness of his cock.

"Tetsurou, please..." you hear yourself rasp, the need thick and urgent in your tone as your gaze drifts meaningfully down his still-clothed form.

Kuroo follows the path of your gaze with a low chuckle. He slowly withdraws his fingers from your sopping entrance, drawing a soft whimper from your throat at the loss. You're too far gone to be embarrassed by the lewd, wet sound the motion creates, however, too consumed by the sudden, aching emptiness now gnawing at you.

"Easy, kitten, we're getting there," Kuroo soothes, reaching down to deftly unfasten the fly of his shorts. You feel a sharp thrill shoot through you as his large, capable hands free the swollen length of his cock at last, leaving it standing flushed and proud before your rapt gaze.

"Look at that, so greedy you can't even wait for me to take these off properly first," Kuroo chuckles, giving his stiff length a slow, leisurely stroke that makes something dark and possessive ignite in the depths of his gaze. "Tell me, are you going to be a good girl and take all of this for me, hm? Or am I going to have to remind you exactly who's in control here?"

"T-tetsurou..." you manage, already feeling that dark, viscous hunger unfurl within you.

The sight of Kuroo's cock, swollen and rigid with lust, is enough to drive any further attempts at coherency from your mind. All that matters is having the thick, pulsing heat of his cock filling the empty, aching void between your thighs at last.

Kuroo's gaze rakes over you ravenously. He looks like a man ready to devour every last inch of you without restraint. And right now, you'd willingly submit to anything and everything he demanded if it meant feeling the full weight of his cock plunging deep into the molten sheath of your pussy.

"Turn around, kitten. Face the lockers and hold yourself open for me," he commands, already guiding you with firm hands until you're braced against the cold steel. "I'm going to fuck you like this. Gonna make you take all of me at once, and leave you a mess of cum and debauchery. Then maybe I'll drag you home and show you exactly what it means to be mine."

The mere thought makes you dizzy. You quickly move to obey, spreading your legs wide and bracing yourself against the unyielding lockers as you bend over and expose the glistening pink folds of your cunt.

"Please, Tetsurou, I need your cock so bad, please," you hear yourself babbling without a care, so consumed by the maddeningly empty ache inside you, nothing else seems to matter. "Please, just fill me up and fuck me already, I'll be a good girl and do whatever you want, just please!"

Kuroo's responding growl of approval is nearly subhuman in its depth. In the next instant, the heavy, searing heat of his cock is finally pressing into the entrance of your drenched pussy. You choke back a sob as his length plunges mercilessly in to the hilt with one fluid thrust.

For a long moment, Kuroo remains perfectly still. It feels as if every muscle in his powerful body has turned to stone as he struggles to maintain some modicum of restraint. But when you begin clenching around him with short, desperate jerks of your hips, it's like a switch is flipped.

His hands find your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to leave marks as he pins you in place and begins thrusting into you with ruthless intent. With the first powerful surge of his cock, all higher functions of thought seem to cease. The only thing you can focus on is the way his length fills you with such delicious friction, splitting you open and leaving you breathless and utterly wrecked.

"Fucking hell, kitten, look at the way your slutty cunt is trying to suck me in," Kuroo groans, sounding dangerously close to his own peak. "Feels so fucking good...can't believe I've been waiting this long to make a mess of you, fuck-!"

His movements are becoming more and more frantic, losing the careful rhythm of his previous thrusts as his hips buck into yours with the frenetic intensity of a wild animal. Every harsh, jarring slap of his pelvis against your ass, every inch of his cock stretching you to the limits, is like a drug straight to your system.

The pressure builds and builds until your body is practically singing with the sheer anticipation of release. Your vision is beginning to go blurry around the edges, the air thick and syrupy as it leaves your lungs in a series of helpless, mewling cries.

Kuroo's large, rough palm suddenly snakes its way around your waist, his thumb finding your clit and pinching it hard as he pounds relentlessly into your tight sheath. You scream as the sudden stimulation sends you plummeting off the edge, your entire body seized by a second orgasm that hits you like a tidal wave.

In the next instant, Kuroo's hips jerk violently against yours, his entire body going rigid as a drawn bow as his release finds him. The sound that tears itself from his chest is guttural, bestial, the kind of noise a man can only make when reduced to his basest, most primal instincts.

You can feel his cock pulsing as he shoots load after load of cum deep inside you, filling your womb and flooding your inner walls with the evidence of his pleasure. You're so far gone, your head spinning and your limbs quaking, it's like floating outside yourself, watching the scene play out from afar.

You don't know how much time passes like that. How long the two of you remain tangled together, sweat-damp and sated and panting as if you've both run a marathon. It feels like ages before you begin to surface once more, awareness gradually returning with each measured breath and the slow, deliberate way Kuroo's hand begins smoothing over your trembling flesh in lazy circles.

When he finally slips free, you can't quite stifle the faint sound of loss that escapes you. But before you can mourn the loss too deeply, Kuroo's already spinning you around to face him, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss as his arms come up to band around your waist.

"Mmm, I could get used to that," he murmurs as he breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His voice is still ragged and slightly breathless, but there's no mistaking the languid, decadent satisfaction dripping from his tone.

You chuckle weakly, unable to suppress a shiver as his hand begins idly stroking the curve of your ass. "You really are a bastard, Kuroo. What happened to showing a little self-control, hm?"

"I could say the same to you, kitten," he returns, not the least bit remorseful as his mouth twists into a wolfish grin. "But if you'd really rather be calling me a bastard than moaning my name, well. We can go right back to square one and I'll fuck you stupid again until you're screaming the right name."

"Oh god, shut up," you groan, burying your face in his chest.

Kuroo laughs, a dark, sinful sound that makes your pulse flutter even in the midst of your mortification.

"What the fuck?!"

A new voice rings out from the locker room entrance, making both you and Kuroo freeze mid-embrace. Turning slowly, you see Yaku standing stock-still with a stricken expression on his face. He takes in the two of you, the state of undress, and the obvious aftermath of a tryst with a look that can only be described as a mix of shock, disgust, and mild arousal.

"Seriously, Kuroo, in the locker room? You couldn't find a better place to fuck this shameless hussy?" he complains, making no move to hide the fact that he's blatantly checking you out despite the indignant tone.

Kuroo simply shrugs one shoulder, completely unrepentant. "What, jealous, Yakkun? You can always join us, I'm sure she wouldn't mind a second cock."

"Kuroo, for fuck's sake!" Yaku snaps, throwing his hands up. "This isn't a fucking gangbang! Go get a room somewhere, I'm trying to get dressed here!"

"I don't mind a little audience," you remark casually, reveling in the way Yaku's eyes go comically wide as he processes the implications of your words. "But if you don't hurry up and make a decision, I'll be riding Tetsurou's cock again."

"I can't fucking believe you," Kuroo breathes with a dark chuckle. "First the jersey and now this...you're really not going to give me a break, are you?"

"Nope."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x reader smut #yaku morisuke

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year

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Femme Fatale Guide: Tips On How To Be A High-Value Woman

Table of Contents:

Prioritize Your Self-Respect Above All Else

Set & Uphold Clear Boundaries in Every Area of Life

Make A Deliberate Effort To Discover Your Values, Passions, & Boundaries

Build A Strong Personal Brand & Cult of Personality

Center All Aspects of Your Health & Well-Being

Read, Study, & Build A Strong Skillset

Consistently Invest in Your Appearance

Remain Dedicated To Lifelong Learning

Personalize Your Interactions & Learn Proper Etiquette

Master The Art of Engaging Conversation

Become Extremely Discreet Yet Utterly Shameless

Embrace Growth Without Succumbing To Your Perfectionist Expectations

HOW TO BE A HIGH-VALUE WOMAN:

Prioritize Your Self-Respect Above All Else: Get goals and standards that align with your needs in every area of life (career, finances, physical/mental/sexual health, emotional well-being, friends, family, intimate relationships, self-development). Express and act in alignment with your standards and dreams. Don't allow the displeasure of others to dictate your actions or daily activities.

Set & Uphold Clear Boundaries in Every Area of Life: State them calmly and clearly. "No" is a complete sentence. Reciprocate this effort to others. Practice the art of discernment, differentiation, and interdependence. Get to know yourself, and learn how to observe your needs independently of others' expectations and desires.

Make A Deliberate Effort To Discover Your Values, Passions, & Boundaries: Figure out what matters most to you in life. What activities, topics, aesthetics, art, clothing, hobbies, sounds, movements, books, television shows, movies, songs, and types of conversations most light you up inside? Here are some resources to guide your self-discovery journey HERE, HERE, and HERE.

Build A Strong Personal Brand & Cult of Personality: I have more tips on building your personal brand, creating your persona (or ‘Dream Girl archetype’), and an ultimate Femme Fatale playbook linked HERE, HERE, and HERE.

Center All Aspects of Your Health & Well-Being: Physical, Mental, Emotional, Sexual, and Spiritual. Celebrate your needs – they make you human. Eat a healthful, plant-based diet, exercise and walk daily, meditate, read at least 10 pages a day, journal, make to-do lists, declutter your space, self-pleasure, recite your affirmations, lean into shadow and mirror work, create morning and nighttime routines. Feeling in alignment is essential to allowing your magnetic aura to shine through. Find all my tips to cultivate self-regard in every area of life HERE.

Read, Study, & Build A Strong Skillset: Designing the life of your dreams is an inevitable aspect of living in your queen energy. Stay informed, read books and articles on your industry, interests, current events, cultural happenings, history, and any other topic that brings you joy or you would find intriguing if someone brought up the subject at a dinner party. Mastering an evergreen skillset is essential for succeeding in your career or building a business. Living in your queen energy means living in abundance. While queen energy is a mindset, it is impossible to fully live in this dream reality without having passions and your finances in order. Start with my entire Femme Fatale booklist HERE and guide to building your dream career HERE.

Consistently Invest in Your Appearance: Choose between investing time, money, or extra effort into upkeeping a polished style, beauty, grooming, and physique-maintaining routine. Wear clean, wrinkle-free, well-fitting clothes – styled and accessorized in a way that appears thoughtful & put together with impeccable grooming (clean hair, nails, skin, etc.). Stay consistent with your beauty/makeup/skincare routines, smelling nice daily, and maintain a scheduled routine (weekly, monthly, every 6 weeks, etc.) for specific treatments that make your life easier and make all the difference. These practices don't need to cost a lot of money. You choose to spend more money, time, or effort on these practices, depending on your personal preferences and based on your lifestyle and circumstances.

Remain Dedicated To Lifelong Learning: Make it a priority to read a few articles and 10 pages of a book daily. Ensuring keep up with your learning & education on different topics and the world is fulfilling and enables you to enter into a wider pool of conversations. This practice also strengthens your mind, sharpens focus, and helps your brain relax.

Personalize Your Interactions & Learn Proper Etiquette: Address people by name, and offer a firm handshake. Maintain eye contact. Say "please" and "thank you." RSVP promptly. Communicate clearly and compassionately. Make the person feel special and like the only individual in the room while introducing yourself. It’s the secret to leaving a lasting impression,

Master The Art of Engaging Conversation: Prioritizing self-presentation, learning how to listen, holding your own, and encouraging others to feel relaxed are the secrets to becoming magnetic in any social situation. Be mindful of how much you listen (more) and speak (less). Carefully consider your tonality and word choice. Remember and recounter the small details of another person’s anecdote that felt important to them. Acknowledge their emotions and validate them. Read more of my tips HERE.

Become Extremely Discreet Yet Utterly Shameless: Do as you please, but keep your business (or pleasure) to yourself. Privacy is peace, power, bliss, and radiates quiet confidence – the greatest telltale sign that someone is living in her queen energy. Learn to hold your own. You will be guaranteed to earn respect within seconds of gracing anyone's presence.

Embrace Growth Without Succumbing To Your Perfectionist Expectations: Remember that every skill, successful relationship, and goal takes time and experience. No one has it all figured out. It’s okay if you’re not where you expected to be or desire to be at this stage of your life. Stop comparing yourself – we all have our own paths. Choose to do one small thing every day to make your life better – either a step towards reaching a goal or indulging in a deep desire. Ensure there's a healthy (not necessarily equal) balance between the two. Leave your future self better than you found your past self. Express compassion towards yourself and acknowledge that you’re doing your best. Everything starts to make considerably more sense in hindsight.

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allysunny · 4 months

Note

Hello! First of all, congrats for your 200 followers ❤️✨. Great job!

Second? I wanna request

8+ 19 in patching up wounds prompt with Nanami ❤️🤭

"Don't go to work today" + "I've got you" + Patching up wounds x Nanami Kento

Words: 3.4k words

Warnings: Some angst, established relationships, mentions of wounds, bruises and stitches, very soft Nanami. If I missed anything, let me know!

A/N: Aaaaaa thank you so much Tarja! It makes me super happy that you decided to request, you know I'm a huuuge fan of your stuff!

This was an entry for my 200 Follower Event, which is still ongoing, so you can request something, if you'd like!

I wrote this in practically one sitting because it was hurting my heart. I knew exactly what to do when I saw the prompts you picked (and I think your choice was quite deliberate as well hahaha!) and I wanted to deliver the best thing ever. It's a bit short, but I just knew if I were to extend myself, we'd end up with a whole novel and I'd get carried away.

Without much further ado, I hope you all enjoy this! I had a blast writing it - I want to hug this man and never let him go! <3

Nanami’s tired sigh signalled his arrival home.

Instinctively, you got up from your spot on the couch and made your way towards him. And the vision before you shocked you to hell and back.

There’s blood all over his clothes; his once white shirt was now tainted a dozen crimson shades, and he was holding onto his stomach as he walked.

You looked at him, at his calm and collected demeanour, at the way his lips pressed into a tight line and his eyes took you in. A sigh of relief left his lips and he all but collapsed on top of you, burying his face on your hair.

“Hey – hey, careful now,” you mumbled, holding onto him tightly but still making sure he wouldn’t fall. “You’re – you’re injured. Kento, what happened?” you asked, looking up and cupping his jaw, looking for any injuries in his face. Thankfully, you find none.

“Occupational hazards,” he muttered against your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It relaxed him. You relaxed him, kept him grounded and sane. As long as he got to come back home to you, he’d be fine – he was sure of it.

“Come on, let’s get you out of these clothes. You need to be taken care of.” You dragged him upstairs, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, and preparing a nice bath for him. While he takes off his clothes (assuring you that he wasn’t a baby and that he could get undressed by himself), you go fetch your first aid kid, far too used to the job of patching him up after long, hard missions.

He got inside the bathtub, warm water relieving his sore muscles instantly. He hissed softly when the water reached his stomach, but he said nothing and just sat down, leaning back against the marble tiles, and closing his eyes. He wasn’t going to complain, not when he knew you were about to probably do the very same thing and reprimand him. He knew you loved him. You cared about him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, sitting by his side, and gently beginning to wash him.

“It was nothing,” he replied, eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” you scoffed in response, “Because a gash in your stomach is nothing. Why didn’t you ask Shoko to heal you up? I’m not a trained doctor, Kento.”

“It was late. Didn’t want to be out longer than necessary and possibly worry you even more about my location.” He opened his eyes, and you stared into those lovely amber pools that had never once failed to guide you. “Besides, I trust you to do it. You’ve patched me up before. Nothing you can’t do again. And I’ll heal up in no time.”

You sighed.

On one hand, it was sweet of him. Kento knew how much you worried about him, knew the restless nights you spent waiting for him to say something, text, call, just tell you that he was doing fine. It was considerate of him to get home right away.

On the other hand, it was so downright stupid. How could a man as smart as your husband think it was okay to switch the powers of a reverse curse user for your amateurish medical skills? Shoko had years of practice and experience. Your experience was based solely on fixing him up. They weren’t good, and he shouldn’t be relying on them as often as he did.

“I know that look,” he says softly, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. You could see the way he winced and tried to play it off as the water being too warm. Your husband never wanted to look weak in front of you. “I trust you. You’ve healed me up well in the past. This is nothing compared to what you’ve done before.”

You sighed and shook your head, continuing your process.

You cleaned the area around the wound, and once he was all clean, you helped him dry himself off with a towel. After that, you disinfected the wound and applied some healing ointments you knew had done the trick in the past. You covered his stomach with some bandage and gave it a soft kiss after you were done. It was sort of your magical touch – after the first time, Kento swore it was that simple thing that had managed to get him to heal up quickly and begs you to do it every time.

“There,” you said, caressing his jaw. “All done. But I’m not stitching you – last time I did it, it got all infected, and I’m not risking your health. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Shoko, and she’ll take care of this. Alright?”

“Yes Doctor Nanami,” Kento smiled dutifully and leaned over to connect his lips to yours. You could still feel some of the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, and tried to push those thoughts away as you kissed him back.

“And now, off to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You helped him up and brought him to your bedroom, where he sat down on your bed with a small grunt. You shot him a worried expression, but he just raised his hands as to assure you everything was alright. With your help, he laid down completely, and you were quick to slot yourself in between his arms. He brought you close and kissed your temple.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” you said, yawning right after.

Nanami smiled and kissed your temple once again, muttering sweet words of adoration until you both fell asleep.

The next day, Kento stayed home.

The only time he left, was to go to Jujutsu High, to get checked on by Shoko. You went with him, not wanting him out of your sight – not when he was injured, and the world of curses never slept.

“Everything should be fine now, but you still have to disinfect the wound some more every time you shower,” she said, fetching for the pack of cigarettes on her pocket and lighting one up and turning to you. “You did a pretty good job patching him up. Why the lack of stiches?”

“I didn’t want them to get infected like last time. I figured he’d be better off like this.”

“You still did a good job.” She puffed out some smoke and shrugged. “You’d do a fine job here with me. How about you consider it? I could use an extra set of hands and – “

“With all due respect, Ieiri, I don’t want to get my wife involved in this world.” Nanami cut her off, placing a protective arm around your waist. “It’s bad enough she has to tend to me sometimes, I won’t let her see the gruesome sights I know you have to deal with on a daily basis.”

Shoko shrugged.

“My offer still stands.”

You both thanked her and made your way home, where Nanami offered to cook up your favourite dish as an apology for getting hurt last night. You sat by your kitchen table, happily watching him as he cut and mixed and did a wonderful job at recreating the food you loved so much.

While you two waited, he took you in his arms and spun you gently around the kitchen, swaying to the rhythm of jazz playing in the radio. He hummed in your ear and kissed you gently. It was soft and slow, and the day was yours to enjoy, so you let yourself melt into his touch. Your husband was safe and sound and nothing could reach you two.

It was good. It was great.

In fact, it felt far too good to be true.

And you feared something was coming up to disrupt your peace.

“I was thinking of staying in tonight,” you said against his chest, the soft beating of his heart almost enough to lull you to sleep. Staying in. Yes. Keeping him home. Safe and sound with you.

“And why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, it’s Halloween. I thought we could go out and celebrate it.”

“We don’t have costumes.” Nanami deadpanned.

“I’m sure we’d find something. But now I just want to stay in with you. Maybe order some takeout, watch a scary movie. What do you think?”

Nanami hummed and bent down to kiss you softly once again, swallowing the soft moan you rewarded him with.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

You spent the rest of the day lazing around, curled up on the couch, watching movies or catching up with old shows that had been long forgotten. At some point, you were sure your husband was taking a nap, and you could only smile, glad he was getting some rest.

“I’m going to shower,” you yawned, looking out of the window. Afternoon was turning into night, and you wanted to clean up the laziness off your body.

“I’ll join you.”

“Ha! No, mister, you’re not going anywhere. No funny business until you’re all healed.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t I shower with my wife anymore?” he faked a surprised expression, and you smiled, glad to see your husband allowed himself to be more laidback at home.

“You can, but you would have to keep your hands to yourself, and I know that’s not possible.”

“You offend me, darling. I am familiar with discipline.”

“The hell you are,” you chuckled, standing up and offering him your hand. “But come on. I need to disinfect your wound again.”

He did as you asked, and you found yourselves in the bathroom once again. You were sitting by his side as usual and were carefully tending to his wound when his phone rang.

“Just leave it – that’s Gojo’s ringtone.” He muttered with a sigh – a sigh that conveyed just how frustrated he was with his coworker.

You nodded and went back to working on his wound but were interrupted by the loud noise of his phone once again. You gave your husband a sympathetic look and he sighed once again, nodding. Standing up, you went to retrieve his phone, only to pick the call up while you returned to the bathroom.

“Hello?”

“[Y/N]? Is Nanami in there?” Gojo asked, urgency clear in his voice.

“Wow, hello to you too, Satoru. What do you want Kento for?”

“Just – please, give the phone to him.”

“Is everything okay?” Now you were getting worried. Gojo was never serious, and he sounded far too worried right now.

“Just put him on the phone!”

So, you did. You couldn’t make out just what the conversation was about. Just that Gojo was extremely worried, and he probably wanted Nanami’s help.

“Hm.” You heard your husband mutter. “I see. Shibuya. Mhm. Who else? Kusakabe? Hm.”

You tried to put the pieces together yourself.

There was something happening in Shibuya, and Gojo needed your husband’s help. Other people were going too, and by the list of names Nanami repeated, you could tell it was probably serious – a lot of people were going.

“I’ll be there in 10.” Having said this, he hung up.

“So?” you asked, looking at him.

“Something is happening in Shibuya Station. Gojo needs my help leading a team of sorcerers.”

Your stomach fell.

Of course. It was far too good to be true. The little peace you’d crafted for yourself and Nanami – it wasn’t real. And something did come to disturb it.

Grabbing the hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball next to you, you dabbled it softly all over the wound, trying your best not to apply too much pressure. This whole thing gave you the creeps. You couldn’t tell what it was – wife’s intuition, a 5th sense. All you knew was that you did not your husband to leave the house.

You didn’t want your peace disrupted. You could feel something was about to happen.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t go, Kento.” You repeated, this time more firmly. “Don’t go to work please, just today” After you were done disinfecting the wound, he stood up and quickly grabbed his clothes. You knew the look in his eyes, the determined look that told you he was entering work mode, he was entering overtime.

He sighed and started walking towards the bedroom, picking the first suit he saw on his closet – the beige one, with the dark blue shirt. You liked that suit. It wasn’t very conventional, he could’ve picked a far more “normal” colour to wear like dark blue or even black – but the tan colour matched nicely with his brown eyes, and the dark blue of his shirt contrasted well with his fair skin.

“Gojo sounded worried. I think this is serious. I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see,” he told you, putting his shirt on and grabbing the holster his blunt sword.

“Please – Kento, you’re injured.” You told him, walking to his side. “You can’t go like this!”

“Shoko healed me up, didn’t she? And so did you. I’ll be fine, I promise.” His voice was as reassuring as always, but all you felt in your stomach was a pit that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Not tonight. I – I have a bad feeling about this, I really do,” you held onto his hand, and forced him to look at you, to see the fear and worry in your eyes. He did, and stopped in his tracks, cupping your face with both his hands.

“I promise you; I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured.

“You don’t get it – I have a terrible feeling about this mission. Please stay home,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you found it hard to speak, anxiety clogging in your throat and making it burn. “Just for tonight. You can’t go tonight.”

“Honey, they need me. They need my help – what if someone is in danger?”

“Surely they can get someone other than you!” you exclaimed, tears now rolling down your cheeks. It broke his heart to see you like this, crying before him. Nanami brushed your tears away and shook his head.

“They can’t. Gojo knows how much I hate overtime. I can tell he’s being serious right now.”

“They have other sorcerers! Gojo can send in other sorcerers! It can’t always be you! Shit – Please! Kento, don’t go tonight. I’m begging you, stay home.”

Nanami looked at you, furrowing his brows ever so slightly. He knew you. Better than he knew himself, he was sure. He knew you cared about him deeply, he knew you worried like crazy. But you’d never stopped him from going on missions. Sure, you’d try to beg for just five more minutes in bed with him, wanting to cherish every second you got to hold him in your arms, and you checked up on him several times a day just to make sure he was doing fine.

But you never stopped him from doing what he had to do.

You understood how much Jujutsu Sorcery meant to him. You understood why he did what he did, and never once got in his way. You knew it was his calling, and you couldn’t stop him. After all, you loved him. And no matter how much you wanted to protect him; you would always let him do what he felt like he had to.

Today was different.

“And you want me to stay home because you… you have a feeling?” he repeated your words back, shaking his head ever so slightly. “[Y/N], you know I can’t. A feeling is not enough. They need my help.”

“They can get someone else’s!” You were crying now. Actually crying and holding onto his hands as if they were your lifeline. To you, they were. “I, I can’t explain it Kento. I just know something terrible is about to happen. And you’re injured, you haven’t healed completely yet, I… I can’t lose you Kento! I can’t – I’m not ready to say goodbye to you. I don’t think I ever will!”

You embraced him tightly, burying your face on his chest and clutching his blue shirt in your fists as you sobbed.

“I just know… I know… I can feel it… I know something awful is going to happen… Please don’t leave me – don’t leave tonight… I love you Kento, I – I can’t lose you…”

Nanami hugged you back as you sobbed, running a gentle hand through your hand in an attempt to comfort you. He pondered his choices.

Gojo sounded desperate. Something big had clearly happened and he was needed. No other sorcerer could rival his technique alone – there was a good reason, after all, he was a Grade 1 Sorcerer. He could go out and help. They probably needed his help more than anything else. And his guidance.

But you… You just looked so frightened, so anxious. Scared that some force more powerful than him would take his soul, his life. He titled your head up with his other hand and took you all in. Your eyes were red from all the crying, your nose was runny, and your lips were puffy and open as you mumbled a string of pleas, all with the same intent. Don’t leave tonight.

He’d never seen you like this.

And he was positive he never wanted to do so ever again.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Your eyes were wide as saucers and your breath quickened.

“Really?”

Nanami hummed in response and kissed you sweetly. You, however, kissed him with all you were feeling. The anxiety and fear of losing him, the desperation to keep him by your side, the undying love you had for him. You poured all these emotions into your kiss, hoping they’d speak louder than the words you couldn’t come up with. You then looked at him and teared up again, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Bread, fireplace, and fresh new books. He smelled like home.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, still running his hand through your hair. “I’ve got you.”

You stood like that for a while, in his arms while he whispered soothing words in your ear.

After a while, he picked you up and took you to the living room, sitting on the couch and placing you on his lap. You snuggled into him, refusing to let him go. Your hands were all over him, and you tried to get closer to him, as if that were even possible. You were so tangled up; it was hard to tell where he ended, and you began.

Nanami silently took the TV remote and picked a movie you had mentioned wanting to watch for Halloween night. He held you close, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, his hand firmly on your thigh to remind you that he was here.

Gojo needed his help. That was true. And however dramatic he may be, he could be serious when he wanted, and forego his cocky, careless demeanour.

But you needed him. And Nanami had spent far too many nights out in missions, coming home battered black and blue, covered in blood and big purple bruises, worrying you to death. He’d seen how you looked at him earlier – like you truly believed he would be taken away from you. And it broke his heart.

Gojo could manage on his own. He’d done it before. Nanami had sacrificed far too many hours for Jujutsu Sorcery. Surely, he’d done enough to warrant a night off, to spend with the love of his life. Right?

“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, trying not to cry again.

“I love you. And I don’t want to worry you.” Was his ushered reply as he placed soft kisses on the side of your head. He felt you smile into his skin, and the gesture was enough to make him melt in your embrace.

Yeah.

He’d surely done enough to earn a night with you.

Gojo could manage.

For now, all he wanted was to curl up with his wife on the couch, and comfort her until she no longer cried, watch a movie or two, chuckle when she got scared and hid in his chest.

Yeah.

He’d earned it.

Because nothing could ever matter more than you.

A/N: And that's it!!! I hope I managed to give all Nanami fans some solance - in my head, this is how it went down. Nanami stayed home with us, and later he retired and we moved to Malaysia. All is well.

I hope you all enjoyed it! I certainly did - I love writing for Nanami. He's such an interesting character!

Have a wonderful day (and weekend) ahead, everyone! <3

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

part one

———

Finding parking is, as expected, hard, largely in part because Michael wants to get them all killed.

“— yeah, that’s right, shitwad! Back off! We were here —”

“Will you please shut the fuck up,” Lee hisses, jamming the switch for Michael’s window. Unfortunately, Michael is sticking his fucking head out of it, so it won’t close.

“This fucking guy! This fucking guy thinks he can swoop up to our spot —”

“Motherfucker we’re in Wilmington, do you want to get fucking shot —”

“He can wait his godsdamn turn like everybody else! Hey, fucker —”

He succeeds, finally, in yanking his brother back in by the scruff of his neck and speeding away from the shitwad in question.

“I can’t believe you let him walk all over us!”

“If I end up with a bullet hole through my windshield, I am kicking your ass, Michael. I won’t need to worry about some trigger happy mortal taking you out. I’ll kill you.”

“Drama queen. Now we’re never gonna find a damn spot.”

They do, in fact, find a damn spot. Within forty-three seconds of Michael saying that, actually, Will points out not just a parking spot but a pull-through, which Lee takes, smirking. Michael aims a kick for his knee.

“Go help Will unbuckle, you bitter bitch. I gotta grab something.”

Ignoring both Michael’s grumbling and Will’s insistence that he can unbuckle himself, thank you very much, Lee jogs over to the trunk. He grabs his and Michael’s bows, just in case, and carefully grabs the bundle of roses he bought from the stand across from his apartment. The stems are a little crushed, but the flowers all seem fine, full and bright, sunny yellow. Even the paper is relatively uncrinkled, folding delicately around the thorny leaves.

Michael nods when he sees them. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” Lee tosses him his bow, slinging his own over his back. It flickers with his quiver under the Mist, settling eventually to look like a small backpack. “Got ‘em this morning.”

“Can I hold them?” Will asks.

“Sure, kiddo.”

He lays them gently in his arms, the same way Cass has taught him to bundle herbs and plants when they gather for poultices. Every step is suddenly much more deliberate, avoiding potholes and cracks in the pavement so he doesn’t trip and crush them under his body. When he nearly walks in front of a car, not paying attention, Michael plants a hand on his head, guiding him around like a claw machine.

“Okay,” Lee says, holding open the door. “Let’s find Diana.”

The lobby is crowded. There are people everywhere — families, grandparents, and of course dozens of dancers, shining hair pieces glinting in the low lights, tutus and rhinestones peeking out of studio sweatsuits. Faces heavy with stage makeup bleed into each other. The building is abuzz with sound, chatter and laughter and shouting and twenty different songs playing at once. Lee can hardly believe they’re all fitting in the same building, and almost convinces himself it’s actually enchanted, smaller on the outside. He glances down when Will backs into him, flowers clutched tighter to his chest, and rests a firm hand on his shoulder. He hooks his finger around Michael’s hoodie, too, and for once he doesn’t complain.

“You see her?” he shouts over the noise. Or, well, Lee’s pretty sure that’s what he said. He shakes his head, anyway, and Michael scowls, standing uselessly on his tiptoes. Even if that didn’t put him just barely over most people’s shoulders, the throng of people is too thick to see much. People elbow and push each other around to meet up with family members, and groups of dancers do their best to practice their routines in what limited space is available. Lee has felt less claustrophobic in Times Square at Christmas.

In a stroke of brilliance, in his very humble opinion, he lets go of Will’s shoulder, puts both hands under his arms, and hauls him over his head, settling him on his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he shouts.

Will grins, tugging on Lee’s hair with his free hand in confirmation.

One hand clamped over Will’s knees, the other still hooked on Michael’s hoodie, Lee starts to wade through the crowd. He can start to see, as he gets farther from the door, the entrance to the stage, the ticket stands, the coat check. Several banners hang temporarily from the ceiling and stick to doorways, welcoming them all to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Believe Dance Comp!, and a table laden with trophies sits proudly by the stage doors.

Sitting under one of the banners, Lee notices a group of girls of varying ages, all wearing the green and purple Stage Lights Dance Academy Cass sometimes wears. He guides them closer, scanning each stage makeup-ed face to try and find his sister, but stops short before he gets too close.

Two girls, sitting at the head of the group, mime twisting their hair, exaggeratedly anxious looks on their faces. The rest of the girls roar with laughter.

Lee feels something heavy settle in his stomach.

“You think anyone will come for her?” a younger girl asks, hushed so that Lee can barely hear her over the crowd.

One of the older girls snorts. “Are you kidding? The only way her mom will come is if there’s an open bar!”

Lee is reminded of the one and only time he’d fought a group of empousai. There’d been a trio of them a Central Park, on a field trip he’d gone on with his ninth grade class, surrounding one of the oak dryads. They’d crooned at her, tugging on her leafy hair and trailing clawed fingers down her handmade dress, calling out backhanded compliments. But Lee’s skin felt like it was crawling, he remembers, and the dryad had been tense, green tears building in her eyes. Every bleat of their laughter had grated his ears, and he’d snapped, eventually, ripping off his bow and picking them off one by one. The third one had seen him, chasing him away from his group, but he’d been so mad that he wasn’t even scared. The dryad hadn’t done anything. They got nothing from poking at her. They’d just done it to be cruel, because it was fun for them.

“I don’t even know why she has the gall to show up. She missed the final practice.”

“Miss Breanna likes her, that’s why,” one of the girls scoffs. “Of course she can skiff off practice and still compete. She thinks she’s so much better than us.”

Michael shifts forward. Lee throws out an arm to stop him, shooting him a warning look.

“You think anyone’ll take your side?” he murmurs.

“They’re talking about —!”

“I know, Michael.”

“They can’t talk about her like that!”

“I know, Michael.” He forces his jaw to unclench. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, favourite or not,” another dancer says wickedly, “her seats will be empty again. And she’ll walk out empty-handed and alone, like she always does.”

Most of the adults milling about the lobby hold flowers, like they do. Except unlike them, their bouquets are large, unlike them the stems are not crushed, unlike them they are wrapped in ribbons, in embroidered banners. One is, even, shaped as a ballet slipper, and Lee notices the oldest girl in the group, the one who made the joke about Cass’s mother, eyeing it, smirking.

He pictures Cass holding it next to all the other girls from her studio. With their big, normal families, their wide smiles, their fancy cameras, their beautiful, expensive bouquets. Pictures the smirks that will be sent her way, the whispers. They can’t — gods, what was he thinking?

“What time is it?” he asks.

Michael glances at his watch. “Quarter to.”

“Hm.”

In her frantic IM, yesterday, Diana had ordered them to be here by noon. From what little he knows about dance competitions, Cass’s performance will be sometime after that, nestled among the many. When exactly, he doesn’t know.

If they leave now, wagering, they could miss it. And that would be the worst thing of them all. But…

“Will,” he says, suddenly getting an idea. “C’mere.”

He reaches up and sets Will back on the ground, clutching his hand as he weaves through the crowd, beelining for the far corner. He stops at a sign with a little stick person on it, gently taking the flowers from Will’s hold and passing them back to Michael.

“Listen to me carefully.” He crouches to Will’s level, meeting his eyes. “Diana is — somewhere, in there, getting Cass ready. Michael and I can’t go in there. We need you to go in and act really confused.”

“That will be very easy, because I am confused,” Will protests. “Why do I have to go in there? I don’t even really know why we’re here!”

“Just — go in,” Lee insists. “Trust me. If I give you more instructions, it’ll ruin it.”

Huffing, Will goes.

“Brilliant,” Michael mutters. “Lose the kid and Diana. Great plan, Lee.”

“Come on, does no one trust me?”

“No one knows what you’re doing, dude! You hang around Carter for five minutes and suddenly you think you’re Mr. Plan Guy —”

Lee flushes. “That is not what this is about!”

“I am not missing this! I swear Lee, if we’re late —”

“We’re not gonna be late!”

“Why is it that every boy on Earth is actually stupid,” hisses a new voice. The change room door busts open, damn near cracking under the heel of a heavy boot, and Diana comes striding out behind it, Will perched on her hip. Her short dark hair sticks out in every which way, shoulders tense as a line, mouth twisted in a scowl. Immediately, Lee and Michael snap their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Will complains, pouting.

She adjusts her hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not you, sweetpea. Only Thing One and Thing Two, over here.” She glares at them. “Why did I find him wandering around in the change room? I told you to wait for me in the lobby! I swear you two want to — ruin this!”

“Hey,” Lee says, flinching back. “You know we don’t, Diana. That’s not fair.”

She scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just —” She presses another kiss to Will’s cheek and sets him down, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been a rough morning. She keeps trying to call her mom, and — well.”

Lee hates that those girls were right. He hates it. He hates that they’ve been right before, that Cass has walked off the stage, face blank, alone. Hearing their giggling, probably. Twisting her hair around her fingers as she tries to hold it together.

His jaw tightens.

Not this fucking time.

“What time is Cass on?” he asks

“…Her solo at one-thirty,” Diana says. “But —”

“Great.” Lee grabs each brother’s shoulder, pulling them back. “We won’t be late, Diana, I promise.”

“Wait! Lee — dude, what are you —”

“We’ll meet you inside! Save us seats!”

“Lee! Get back here!”

“Seats!” Lee calls, glancing back. He makes a vague gesture in return to her incredulous, spread-wide hands, trying to convey the Situation. “We won’t be late! Promise!”

“I’ll kill you if you are!” she relents. “Be fucking back on time!”

———

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take the car.

For whatever reason, both Lee and Michael assumed there would be a flower stand just outside the theatre. Neither of them had seen one on the way in, but it made sense. If Lee had a flower business, he’d probably put it next to a theatre. Where else would you put it?

Regardless, there isn’t anything close across the street, or even on the whole block. Will sits on his shoulders again, because it’s easier than trying to guide him, and every so often he glances at the watch Beckendorf made him, calling out the time.

“Will,” Lee begs, veering around a street corner, “you are not helping.”

“I am so!” He checks his watch again. “Twenty-seven minutes ‘til Cass starts. That’s why we’re here, right? To watch Cass dance?”

“So long as we make it in time,” Michael stresses. “Shit, Lee, maybe we should just head back. The flowers we have are fine —”

“Cass deserves more than fine.”

Michael snaps his mouth shut. “I know that.”

Lee slumps. “I — know you know. Sorry.”

Their steps fall in synch, footsteps making level prints in the light dusting of snow. On occasion a passing car drowns them out, but for the most part the only sound is their breathing, and Will picking at his nails. The shifting of their jackets.

“You’ll never undo it, Lee.” The road cross button makes a heavy click noise under Michael’s fist. The countdown for the walking man is loud, four, three, two, one. Three of the little lights are broken, making it look like its chest is cracked open. “There’s some shit you just can’t fix.”

“I’m not trying to — fix her,” he argues weakly. “I’m just…”

He can’t push away the horrible ache in his chest. The rapidly expanding feeling, the sinking chasm of expecting and hoping and being disappointed. Of looking out into the crowd to find a familiar face and not finding one. Of hearing giggles as you walk past and clenching your teeth, knowing. It balloons, pushing out on his ribcage, forcing its way up his throat.

Michael stops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Lee stares at a spot at the air above his shoulder, swallowing roughly, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Lee. You think competing with those assholes is gonna — go back? Gonna magically bring her fucking — hell, bring Dad?”

Lee looks away. “Of course not.”

“We’re going to be there. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That’s what’s really important.”

“Oh, to hell with high horses, Michael. I’m fucking tired of — of pretending it’s okay!” He starts forward again, ignoring the twinge of pain in his skull when Will grips his hair, yelping at the sudden surge forward. Michael jogs to keep up. “It’s — fight these monsters, train these kids, lead your cabin. Ignore the fact that your dad couldn’t be assed to visit a few times a year, he’s an Olympian, after all, you understand. Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of —” he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely catching himself — “I’m tired of being so damn understanding!”

For a moment Michael says nothing. Lee’s breathing is heavy, shakey, and it takes effort to still the tremble in his hands.

“The girl,” Michael says eventually. “The prissy one, who sat closer to the door.”

“…What about her?”

“I just.” He chews at his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, dude, but you have issues, dude, and shit you need to work out. For real. Besides just —” he gestures broadly at the mostly empty street — “ranting into the air.” Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. “It would be really, really funny to see her face if Cass walks out with a bouquet three times the size of hers, wouldn’t it.”

Lee matches his grin. “It would be.”

“Betcha she’d seethe.”

“Probably turn purple.”

They turn to each other, finally back in synch.

“Nineteen minutes,” Will pipes up.

Lee startles. He checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”

———

part three

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caesium-55 · 1 month

Text

Lewis just wants to sleep. He's tired. He just arrived yesterday from Las Vegas and he needs to grant himself a lazy day or else, he'll go insane. He already planned out a perfect morning. You, on the bed with him in the most innocent sense—Lewis wouldn't mind sex because sex is nice and all but he also loved just resting with you and basking in your existence and your being—freely drifting in and out of the realm of sleep, no annoying alarm waiting to ruin his morning with that god-awful buzzing nose, basking in the silence and peace of a morning in the quiet part of Monaco, and letting the hours pass by without care. Then, when you both get sick of the sheets, you go down and grab breakfast in that café just across the building that sells amazing crepes.

But he wakes up and your side of the bed is cold and empty and panic sinks in his system quickly. He glances around the room. Sunlight peeks through the tiny gap of the black out curtains in the window. Besides the night lamp, it's the only source of light in the room. Your phone is not on the bedside table, Lewis notes. That means you slipped away from the bed and left the room some time ago without Lewis noticing. Usually, he'd feel it if you even just twitched and he'd wake up in a heartbeat, but the jet lag and the exhaustion that engulfed his entire body must have stopped him from doing so.

He sits up and rubs his face with his palms. He decides to follow after you downstairs.

The door abruptly opens with a loud bang, making Lewis flinch and turn his head towards. Lewis's face transitions from sleepy to shocked to confused.

You're wearing a gown that greatly resembles the type of gowns that the female cast of Netflix's Bridgerton wore in the show. It's a mixture of lilac and pink, both are pretty colors. Your hair is fixed into an elegant half-do with a plastic tiara to complete everything. On one hand, you carry a portable Bluetooth speaker. In the other, a microphone. You sport the most serious facial expression in the universe but nothing about you screams seriousness at all. Especially not with the funky-shaped eyeglasses that sit on the bridge of your nose.

You slam your hand against the light switch next to the door and the entire room brightens. Lewis chuckles at the sight of you, eyes twinkling with mirth. The room never feels more alive than it does now.

"Ta-da."

"Good morning, baby."

The intro of the song starts blaring through the speaker. A strong beat of drums. Then, you began to sing.

“After the war I went back to New York

A-after the war I went back to New York

I finished up my studies and I practiced law

I practiced law, Lewis worked next door—"

"Baby, you practice medicine—"

"Even though we started at the very same time

Lewis Hamilton began to climb

How to account for his rise to the top?"

You point the mic towards him. Lewis smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

"Man, the man is non-stop."

Lewis chuckles, amused. You are getting into it. You put your mic on your mouth again.

"Gentlemen of the jury, I'm curious, bear with me

Are you aware that we're making hist'ry?

This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation

The liberty behind deliberation (Non-stop!)

I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt

With my assistant counsel

Co-counsel—"

Lewis tries to leave the sheets so he can get his phone and capture you in video. You stop him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Hamilton, sit down."

"I'm sat."

You begin pacing around the room, hands waving around in theatrical fluorish.

"Our client Levi Weeks is innocent

Call your first witness

That's all you had to say

Okay

One more thing–"

You walk up to him and Lewis waits for your next move.

"Why do you assume you're the fastest in the room?"

"Because I am?"

"Why do you assume you're the fastest in the room?

Why do you assume you're the fastest in the room?

Soon that attitude may be your doom!"

Lewis shakes his head at you.

"Why do you drive like you're running out of time?

Drive day and night like you're running out of time?

Every day you fight, like you're running out of time

Keep on fighting, in the meantime."

Your number ends with you doing a dramatic pose and Lewis bursts out laughing, the sound mixing with the fading music.

"I love you so much. You have no idea."

This is far from the ideal morning he's planned out. This is not quiet. This is not peaceful. This is boisterous and obnoxious and too much energy so early in the day and every bone in Lewis's body still screams exhaustion.

But Lewis wouldn't trade this morning over the peaceful morning in his mind. Not when you looked so happy singing and rapping that Hamilton song. You theater nerd. God, Lewis didn't know he was physically capable of loving a person this much.

"Hey baby, if we get a son, can we name him Alexander?"

"Whatever you want."

Lewis wishes this morning will never end.

#lewis hamilton #lh44 #lewis hamilton x reader #lh44 x reader #established relationship #f1 x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagines #fanfic #hamilton musical #fluff #Spotify

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lily-lovelyy · 10 months

Note

Hello! Could you possibly write König and Ghost (separately) x a stoner reader who’s just faded 99% of the time? You can make it NSFW if you’d like! Please and thank uu! Have a nice day/night!!

Ahhh this is actually so cute to me!

(A/N sorry about not getting around to answering a lot of these this whole month has been very crazy for me but I am trying to answer them as soon as possible!!)

I'm going to do nsfw and sfw with both of these! And the reader is fem!

Simon "Ghost" Riley

SFW

- Simon smokes with you, his doctor prescribed him some for medical purposes, to help with his insomnia so he understands why you smoke!

- He thinks it's a fun way to bond with you, and you two have such deep conversations when you're both stoned as shit 💀

- Simon always orders pizza and takeout whenever you two start smoking, and he also has a snack drawer in your bedroom or near your smoke spot!

- speaking of smoke spot, at Simon's house he has a sun room he always drinks his tea or coffee in whenever he wakes up, or whenever he smokes, and he let you decorate the entire room however you wanted whenever he figured out how adamant you were about smoking!

- He is very caring with you whenever you're the only one smoking though, he coddles you and makes sure you're not paranoid or having a bad time! He's a sweetie.

NSFW

- It took a lot of convincing to do anything sexual with him while you're high, he just doesn't want something to happen without you being fully aware of it

- however, he absolutely loves it when you go down on him when you're stoned, apparently something about the weed makes your gag reflex disappear, and you can take him all the way down your throat

- whenever you're high, you also have a hard time understanding when he's sensitive or overstimulated, and you make him cum at least three times, and you leave him a mess.

- he's whining and moaning, gripping the sheets and stuttering pleas to stop, but he wants nothing more than you to keep overstimulating him

- you're also very good at aftercare with him, you let him share your blunt, and you both take a nice hot bath and after you cuddle in bed and watch your favorite show or movie while eating your delivery food

Konig

SFW

- Konig gets quite upset when he first finds out you smoke, but only because he never actually knew the benefits of it.

- all he knew was what his parents and teachers said about it, he thought you'd grow horns or get a mutation or something like that, but when you told him all the benefits, he was cool about it

- now Konig himself doesn't smoke, but he knows the signs of when you smoke, the smell, your demeanor and how clingy and sweet you are

- He also keeps snacks for you, in his backpack he has a designated pouch for chips and sweets when you get hungry, and an extra chilled water bottle in case you have a coughing fit!

- He also has an entire drawer dedicated to snacks for you, he has some comfy clothes for you in his dresser, some of your 'smoking gadgets' in his nightstand and whatever else you may need!

- you let Konig smoke once, and he coughed so hard you thought he was going to have a heart attack, so instead you bought some edibles for him to try, and he was into them, but only takes them when his anxiety is bad or when he's going to be around too many people.

(in my eyes, I don't think Konig could do anything sexual with you if you were high, but I will indulge your fantasies anyway 🙏🏻)

NSFW

- Konig is normally very rough with you during sex, because you do like it that way, but whenever you're stoned he's very gentle

- He doesn't go too hard unless you deliberately ask, and he definitely cums too fast, only because you're very...open when you're under the influence

- you admit to him how hot and sweet he is, and how his arms are just so veiny and big, and his eyes practically roll back into his head at the obscene squelching and moans that leave your lips

- you're not very vocal normally during sex, but when you're high, he's sure only porn actresses make the noises you make.

- Konig is an aftercare god, running you a bath and cooing to you how well you've done, and for the sake of it, hits a blunt once because he knows how badly you like to share with him.

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candycandy00 · 8 months

Note

Can you just do your general nsfw headcanons for the jjk men?

Sure! These are very unorganized though, sorry! Just my random NSFW opinions about them!

Gojo Satoru:

First of all, he’s very good at sex. It’s canon that he’s good at anything he tries so this is provable fact. He’s very tall so it’s likely that he’s well endowed.

He has a huge ego, which can be good and bad. He’s confident in his performance in the bedroom because, well, of course he is. And confidence is definitely sexy. But at the same time, he’s going to be a bit too full of himself. This can get annoying. He’s going to know exactly how to push all your buttons and get you riled up, which is going to make him the worst tease in existence.

All of this is why I think he would be kinda mean in the bedroom. A bit of an asshole. But a very charming one so good luck resisting him. He knows he’s gorgeous. He knows he can satisfy you better than anyone else. So he’s going to use that to his advantage. I see him being the type to get really turned on by making you beg. I also see him having just a little bit of a degradation kink. He’ll throw in some insults or mock you for being so desperate for his dick (don’t let him fool you, he wants you as bad as you want him but he’ll never let it show).

The fastest way to turn him on is to stroke his ego. Telling him he’s too big, he won’t fit, it hurts, etc. while also still begging for it will absolutely send him to the moon. The thought that you want him in you so badly, even if it hurts, gets him riled up faster than anything else. And once he’s in there, letting him know how deep he’s hitting, how he’s stretching you, will drive him wild.

He has one major weakness though. No matter how mean or taunting he can get, deep down, he’s actually a pretty nice guy overall and genuinely cares about you and your feelings. So if he thinks he took things even one step too far or actually hurt you for real (physically or emotionally), he would feel terrible. He would suddenly turn into the sweetest boyfriend ever, being super affectionate and gentle, until he felt sure that he was forgiven and things were cool between you two.

As for his sexual history, I think he hooked up with a lot of people when he first got out of high school. I mean people were already throwing themselves at him when he was still pretty young, so what do you think a hot young man is going to do? But I think he slowed down a lot as he got a little older. The random hookups started to leave him feeling empty. He probably starting having them to begin with because he was lonely after his split from Geto. It was just an enjoyable way to not feel alone for a little while. But gradually, the loneliness crept in faster and faster. So he decided to stop hooking up until he met someone he could have an emotional connection to.

Geto Suguru:

I feel like Geto would be a very generous lover. He would definitely prioritize your pleasure, getting most of his own through watching you become a shuddering mess beneath him.

He’s extremely good at performing oral sex. His tongue would be amazing. And he enjoys it more than anything else. Expect to climax several times, in a row, each time the two of you are intimate.

Outside the bedroom, he’s very respectful and kind to you. He’s raising two young daughters, he wants to show them how they should be treated by a partner. But this respect and care crosses over to the bedroom too. He makes sure you’re satisfied and well pleased.

When it comes to pleasing him, his hair is practically an erogenous zone for him. Run your fingers through it to hear him purr like a cat. Grab it, pull it, play with it, whatever. He loves it. When he’s making love, he prefers extremely intimate, deep, deliberate motions. He likes to take things slow so the two of you can just enjoy the feel of each other’s bodies.

Is a firm believer that sex isn’t just for physical pleasure, but is a way to be closer to the person you love. For that reason, he’s had way fewer sexual partners than someone like Gojo or Toji, but the encounters he’s had have been way more meaningful.

Sukuna:

Do you really want to know what gets this guy off?

DO YOU?

No sugar coating here, Sukuna is a monster. He enjoys suffering. He loves hurting people. He probably doesn’t give a shit about his partner’s pleasure. Or their consent. Or keeping them alive. It’s stated in the series that he “lives according to his pleasure”. So I can’t see him holding back if he saw someone he wanted. In his first scene alone, he specifically mentions women twice. Once asking “Where are the people? Where are the women?”while grinning maniacally. I think it’s pretty clear what the implication was there. He also implies that he would do something unsavory to Nobara if he took control. This was probably just his way of being a menace to Yuji, but the fact that he implied it at all says a lot about him.

So yeah, all this to say I think he had his way with a lot of women when he was alive, probably killing them afterwards (which would explain why he has no descendants).

As for his kinks? Oh Lord, there’s probably a long list and they’re all probably nightmarish. He’s probably into pain/torture/blood/humiliation/degradation/etc. Anything to be cruel. He’s a cannibal so he definitely wouldn’t mind drinking a little blood and would probably be into biting. He’s just the walking personification of all the worst porn categories.

But! He is actually capable of treating someone well if he likes them. We see this in how he treats Uraume (laughing and joking with them, forgiving their mistakes, just generally being nice to them). And how did Uraume earn a place at Sukuna’s side? By providing a service that Sukuna valued (cooking tasty human meat). So if he were to meet someone who really blew his mind in the bedroom, it’s possible that he would value them enough to keep them around.

If that were to happen, he’d probably be a lot less of a nightmare in bed. He’d still have his kinks, but he would actually want to keep you alive, so he would tone it down to keep from damaging you too much. I also think he would start pleasuring you on purpose if he cared about you. He would enjoy knowing he could drive you wild with just a touch. Like Gojo, he has a massive ego. He’s also narcissistic and domineering. So while he would still prioritize his own pleasure, he would definitely see the charm in watching you come completely undone only for him. He’d still be very forceful and very rough.

Nanami Kento:

Didn’t know he had a daddy kink until you accidentally called him daddy in bed. At that moment, something snapped into place for him, and he never looked back.

Is lightly authoritative in bed, mainly because he knows it turns you on so much. Often uses “good girl” or “bad girl”. Engages in some light spanking, with his hand or his belt, but never actually hurts you and it’s something the two of you have thoroughly discussed and agreed upon.

He usually guides every encounter. He’s used to being in charge. But you like it because you get to relax and let him do all the planning. Outside the bedroom, you have a totally normal relationship that a lot of people might even call dull, but inside the bedroom? You can both get quite kinky.

Nanami will sometimes engage in teacher/student role play. You pull on your old high school uniform, which you’ve made a few alterations to in order to make it more sexy, and he has a monumental struggle trying to keep his self control.

Speaking of his self control, it’s pretty strong. But if you tease him too much, he will absolutely have you bent over his lap, alternating between spanking you with his open palm and pleasuring you with his fingers. He’s very good with his hands.

Fushiguro Toji:

Is a horn dog. It’s been told in the manga that he went “from woman to woman”, so he definitely got around. I think he’d definitely be into random hookups. But if he formed an emotional connection with you, as he did with Megumi’s mom, he would be faithful to you.

Has a size kink, definitely. He is HUNG.

Is very proud of his stamina. He can go for several rounds in a row. He’ll exhaust you, but you’ll definitely end up blissed out and very satisfied.

Can be very soft and gentle or very rough, depending on the mood. He likes both. He’s also open to most kinks you’d want to try. He’s there for a good time, not to be judgemental. However, he would probably get a little bored or annoyed if there was a lot of prep involved. Wanna role play and throw on some costumes? Sure! But if you have to put a lot of time into converting the bedroom into a particular setting, he will lose interest.

Probably not the best at aftercare. After he’s satisfied the both of you, he’s falling asleep and probably expecting breakfast in the morning. He’s not picky about what it is though so if you just give him some toast he’s cool with it.

Enjoys showering together. He’s not the least bit shy about being naked (with that body, can you blame him?) and would think you’re being silly if you acted shy.

Choso:

Of all the guys, he’s probably the most shy and subby. He’s also the mostly likely to be a virgin. Not a huge shock considering it’s not been that long since he was incarnated into a human body.

Choso would be a very sweet and devoted lover. Once he started to view you as family (in a spousal way), he would literally do anything to make you happy. That extends to the bedroom, where he would learn all the things you like just so he can please you.

Contrary to what some people think, calling him “onii-chan” or “big brother” would not excite him. It would probably be the fastest way to kill his boner. He takes his role as a big brother very seriously, so putting yourself into that context would just make him uncomfortable.

Doesn’t have many specific kinks but his absolute favorite thing is receiving blowjobs. Seeing you get on your knees in front of him gets him so excited he can barely breathe. He still can’t believe someone like you would work so hard to pleasure someone like him, but he gets mesmerized when he’s watching you suck his dick.

Definitely the soft type. You’d have a hard time getting him to go rough because he’d be afraid of hurting you, and that’s the last thing he wants. But over time, you could probably convince him to try more spicy activities once you’re both very comfortable with each other.

#gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #headcanons #jjk headcanons

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thesunisatangerine · 4 months

Text

playing for keeps – preview

alexia putellas x childhoodfriend!barçaplayer!reader

warning: light angst

status: work in progress

(a/n in the tags) [parts: preview]

The car ride was deafening in its silence.

In Alexia’s defense, she’d done everything she could to fill it: she’d tried asking you about your flight and when that didn’t work, she started talking football. She asked you about your last season, about how you won your league and wondered about how that must’ve felt; inquired about your negotiations with the club and how you felt about returning back to Barça–solicited for the reason that made you inclined to come back. Heck, she even tried to get you talking by mentioning things you used to do or like–things she didn’t know you didn’t do nor like now.

For every question, you’d given her the same kind of nothing. A yes, a no, or a hum. There was a weight in your chest that exhausted you past the point of exchanging pleasantries and niceness, a seemingly impossible task for the tiredness in your bones, your soul. So you excused yourself, told her it was the jet lag, and you saw the way the light in her eyes dimmed with disappointment, training them on the road with deliberate focus, her lips tightening to a line of silence.

You still knew the language of her face and body–how could you not when they’d carve themselves into the tissues of your mind?–to perceive that she wasn’t entirely convinced with what you just said because maybe, just maybe, you were to her as she was to you: familiar. The thought provided little comfort, made your chest heavier with guilt even, another stone dropped into the pitcher.

The feeling gave way to another thought, unpleasant in the way it told you what you already knew, ‘Way to treat the person who took time out of their precious night to drive you to your apartment when she could be using that time to rest for tomorrow’s practice. How nice.’

And then, another.

‘Just like how you treated Olivia, right?’

The reminder made you close your eyes from the sting that followed, a stitch torn from its place in a wound newly closed, and you tried to prevent the tears’ impending arrival but the darkness that followed served to rub salt to the cut as it made the fleeting images clearer, the words ever louder.

“I’m so stupid! So stupid…”

“Go. Please, just go. You won’t find happiness here.”

A touch on your arm startled you back to the present, the jostle from the gasp you let out just enough to make a tear fall, and you found Alexia with her eyes on you, concern and a question reflected in their light.

The car had stopped, parked outside of your apartment complex.

“What’s wrong?” Soft was the way she spoke the words but the look she laid upon you was even more gentle. Your heart lurched–away or towards her, you weren’t sure–and you ached, and for what exactly, you didn’t know but the question made you reminisce about the old times, back to when you used to tell each other everything.

But how could you tell her about this? About what led to this? When the fire from that night remained in your chest, glowing and waiting patiently as an ember in the night, waiting for the wind to call her name–to set her aflame again?

You casted your eyes aside and turned your head away so you could wipe the tear that fell, before you met her eyes again. You said with a small smile, apologetic.

“Nothing. I’m just–I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

Alexia regarded you for another moment, eyes tracing some invisible path along your face, long enough that you considered she’d ask you more about why you cried just then. Instead, she said with a half-smile, teasing, “Don’t worry about it. What else is new?”

Your shoulders eased down a bit.

“Still a smart-mouth, I see. Indeed, what else is new?”

At your response, the both of you chuckled but the pressing silence returned.

“How long has it been since we’ve played together?”

Alexia whispered with a wistful tone, brows knitting together at her question as she leaned back against her seat, putting her arms behind her head which pulled the sleeves of her shirt to reveal the tattoo under her arm.

You turned your gaze away, to the unlit window of your apartment.

“Too long.”

“Two years too long.” Alexia corrected you and then she shook her head, “I know you already explained it but I still don’t understand why you went to the States out of all places. Out of all your options, you had to choose the furthest one.”

You shrugged, hunching forward so you could rest your elbows on your knees, fingers clasping together as you twiddled your thumbs.

“You knew I’ve always wanted to see what the league is like there.”

“Right,” Alexia drawled in a tone that told you she was, in fact, aware that she didn’t know–that what you said was a load of bullshit. “So, what’s the verdict?”

‘It wasn’t like home.’

“I can hear your judgment all over your tone.” You replied drily then added, “It was great, thank you very much.”

Alexia laughed and strands of her hair fell to her face which she brushed back with a finger before she sank further into her seat.

“Well, you should tell me more about how you enjoyed yourself, then. Surely, you must have a lot of stories to tell.” You heard the unspoken words, ‘Stories you never bothered to tell me through the phone or during the instances we’d met during the time you were away.’

Still you answered her in your mind, ‘I would’ve enjoyed it better if you were there.’

“Where do you want me to begin?” If Alexia heard the weary sigh in your tone, she made no indication she did.

“I don’t know. Where do you want to start?”

‘I went away because of you.’

“At this point, we’ll be here all night.” You laughed.

Alexia laughed along. “Just tell me anything then.”

‘Distance didn’t work. You still have my heart.’

You hummed, thinking of a story, easing back in your seat finally and then you began.

“Well…”

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n:#the poll winner is what im currently working on rn #still far from having a solid outline but just figured id give you guys something to hold on to for the time being #also this scene may be subject to minor/major changes in the final copy ✌️#let me know what you guys think <3

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 1 month

Text

APRIL FOOLS, I HAVE A PREVIEW FOR YA!

This is no joke! I have a preview of Part 2 of "Dress Up" for y'all. The prank was that I said previously that I was taking a small break from writing but GET PRANKED cuz here's a sneak peak!

The ~~~ indicate flashbacks!

No active warnings for this part, only slight inferences of sexual things! But don't worry, there will be smut later in the chapter hehe~

"You know, if you don't quit pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

But regardless of any of that, Lucifer couldn't help but worry. You had one other request for him after he popped the question.

~~~

It had been a while since Lucifer had slept alone. Suffice to say he couldn't sleep. He assured you that he would be alright sleeping alone for just one night, but that ended up being easier said than done. The empty bed he laid in brought back painful memories of his first night without Lilith, something that still haunted him to this day. There would be times where Lucifer would wake up in a cold sweat, only to glance over to see you peacefully asleep, and he could breathe again. Anytime you felt him tug you closer to him in the middle of the night, you knew what had woken him up. He never hid his feelings from you when he confided in you about his ex, and you didn't mind that he would wake you when his nightmares overwhelmed him. You loved him and he loved you. You would never leave. So when you heard your door creek open in the middle of the night to see your fiancé standing in the door frame, you only smiled and gestured him to you.

~~~

"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly, "I tried...I really did...I-"

"I don't deserve you," he murmured.

"You know I think the same thing every day," you responded.

He interlaced his fingers with yours at your words, squeezing you hand softly. "Promise me you'll never think that again. Please. You deserve everything and more."

"Alright," you conceded, kissing the back of his head, "as long as you promise me the same thing. You're my everything, and I'll spend the rest of my afterlife showing you that."

"Okay," he spoke weakly. You intertwined your legs with his, bringing yourself as close to him as possible. "I still intend to keep my other promise. I'll be gone before you wake up."

"You can stay as long as you need to," you whispered before drifting off to sleep once more.

~~~

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #preview #get pranked!!

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gojo-mochi · 6 months

Text

CW: A bit Toxic!Geto, sexual stuff in a library, spanking, Oral F! receiving, fingering F!recieving. A bit of degrading and praises.

Fratboy!Geto and Fratboy!Law who are both nerds but in different categories. Geto more charming and outgoing, easy to get along with, he actually enjoys tutoring. Especially tutoring those cute, innocent, and shy girls. Who hid their blushing faces behind textbooks but he could always tell that they were glancing at him, eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat. He encourages it though, always coming to the tutoring lessons right out of a gym session. Wearing a tight black tank top and white sweatpants. Talking sweetly as he apologized for his messy look, face closed in that fox-eyed smile that sends shivers to anyone on the receiving end. Making a show of wiping off the sweat from his neck and forehead, deliberately slow, flexing a little as he raises his arm up to wipe the underside.

Licking his lips before he takes a swig off his water bottle, tilting his head back so you could see his adam's apple bob as he takes gulps. He’ll play it slowly, taking you to the back of the library so you guys “could study better, away from any distractions”. Preferring to sit next to you so he could help you easily with the notes and the reading. Bumping an elbow into you gently or touching your thigh with his ‘accidentally’, making you more flustered as the time goes on. Swinging an arm on the back of your chair as you asked you to look over your notes, praising you in a hushed tone, even though the two of you are alone.

“Amazing, you improved so much…”

“I knew you could do it, good girl.”

“Such a good listener, aren’t you?”

He practically purrs these praises directly in your ear, making you squirm in your seat. Then once he gets you nice and riled up, he’ll tease you like he wasn’t directly the cause of the pool of arousal in your panties right now. Lightly scolding you for being so naughty to get all wet and horny in the school’s library as he slinks down under the table, spreading your pretty thighs and flipping your skirt up. Grabbing the legs of the chair and pulling it and you forward so your clothed cunt is pressed up directly against his face. Unashamedly taking a whiff of your scent, nosing at your wet panties like a dog in heat.

Though it is obvious that he wants this, he makes you beg him for it anyway. Nipping at your thighs, and using that commanding tone of voice on you again.

“If you want me to tongue-fuck this pretty little cunt of yours, you gotta say it for me, mkay?”

“Say, ‘Please, Geto-Sensei, please tongue-fuck my needy little cunt’.... Haha, atta girl.”

“Ah-ah, no hiding that cute face from me, come here.. Give me your hands… ah, wait better yet, hold on to my hair. Awww, no need to worry about hurting me, my dear. Come on now, grip tight, show me how much you love it when I’m eating you out.”

He’ll slide off your panties, shoving them in his pocket to add to his collection later, hands spreading out your pussy so he could dive right in. Flattening his tongue on your slit and lapping up all your arousal he could gather, not caring that some of it was dribbling down his chin. He likes the mess either way, groping your thigh with one hand and using the other one to keep the chair still as you squirm and wiggle above him. He was serious about tongue-fucking you, not paying any attention to your clit until you finally give in and beg him to do something about it.

He huffs out a small chuckle, having the audacity to quiz you on the lecture he was supposed to tutor you on, giving kisses and licks on your clit if you get them right and nipping at your thigh if you get them wrong. If you were to fucked out to say anything coherent he would have some pity on you, latching his mouth on your needy clit and sucking harshly. Shaking his head back and forth at an extreme pace that you cum hard. Your entire body shaking and quivering from it, when you calm down he’ll tease you about it and slowly start to build up another orgasm within you, not letting you escape until you answer all his questions right. You walk (or wobble) away from Geto’s tutoring session with enough knowledge to pass the test with flying colors, no panties, and his number written in your notebook.

Fratboy!Law only joined a fraternity for the career connections, lord knows that the medical field is a tough and hard battlefield. He’s more seclusive, preferring to stay in his own group and away from parties and most people. He grumbles about being forced to tutor people since he needed to put in hours to stay in his fraternity. He’s tough and expects no bullshit from his students. Have a strict time schedule and expect you to follow it to the letter. But here you were, a pretty little thing, all dolled up just for him, shirt unbuttoned so your cleavage was showing but Law seemed more focused on the text books than anything.

He sat across from you, droning on about a passage from a textbook that went into one ear and out the other, your eyes tracing the outline of his tattoos instead, wondering how good his tattooed hand would look if they were around your neck instead. Law knows you weren’t paying any attention to him but he should at least try to pretend like he’s tutoring you in case any of the other fraternity’s members dropped by to check in. That was when you decided to get a little frisky, stretching your foot out under the table, taking off your shoe, leaving only a sock on as you start trailing up his thigh, you felt him tense under your touch.

Twirling your hair and giggling as you asked a question, eyes twinkling as you trail your foot all the way up in between his legs and pressing down on his bulge. You licked your lips feeling how utterly huge he was under your foot, his voice stuttered a bit and you spotted a blush running across his cheek as you continued to tease him. You repeated the question, playing dumb, asking him to explain it to you more clearly. He breathes in through his nose, closing his eyes as your foot keeps on rubbing up against him. You take your foot away and lean over the table, pulling down your shirt a bit so you could flash your bra to him.

Fluttering your eyelashes at him and wetting your lips, calling his name in a sultry voice as your hands reach over to touch his. Law slams the textbook down on the table, startling you, he then sucks in a breath and takes a couple of seconds before speaking, asking you to grab a book from off the shelf. You pout but obliged, feeling that you might have taken things a bit too far with him. He had you grab a fairly wide book, he takes it from your hand and stands up. Going behind you and ordering you to bend over the table. You sputter out a “Wh-what?” but he growls in your ear.

“You heard me, bend over, this is your punishment for acting like a slut.”

Your ears glow red but this is what you wanted after all, right? So bend your body over the table you were just studying on, Law pulls down your shorts, tsking seeing how you came to this study session wearing no panties. “Were you planning on this the whole time? Asking to be tutored by me, just hoping that I would fuck you, huh?” You mewl out a soft “Yes..”, wiggling your ass at him. Law breath start to shake, he sighs out a quiet “Fuck…”

“You still gotta be punished though. You can count, can’t you? Or is that pretty head of yours empty? Is that why you’re here, hmm, want me to fill you with my cock?” You nod, feeling your pussy clenching and dripping at the thought, you waited so long to get on the tutoring list for Law, the hot frat nerd that always avoids people. You didn’t want to waste this chance, yet you tense up once you feel Law smack the hardcover of the book against your ass. He was using the book to spank you?

“Oy, count with me now, we’re going up to ten, alright?” He smacks you again, a bit harder this time, making you jolt on the table. He leans over your shoulder, a hand on your head as he whispers, “If this is getting too much, tap on the table twice and I’ll stop.” He places a chaste kiss on your cheek and leans back, preparing to spank you again. You count along with him, feeling your ass get more sore and red with each spank, the book cover leaving an imprint on your cheeks. You managed to get to ten, but at the end of it all, your thighs were shaking and tears pricked at your eyes.

Law throws the book on the table, leaning his entire body across your back once again, his chin placed on your shoulder as his hand dips down between your legs. “So you can listen to me, heh, I guess I can give you a reward after all.” His fingers slip in your cunt easily, finding that nice spongy spot inside you and going to town. His other hand comes around your neck, squeezing lightly and tilting your head towards him for a heated kiss. His tongue invading your mouth as you clench on his digits, you moan and shake, softly begging him to touch your clit to get you off.

He groans at seeing you like this, he lets go of your neck, trailing his other hand down to rub soft circle on your clit, biting at your ears and your shoulder, giving your love bites that will last for a couple of days.

“That’s it, cum for me. Fuck, you’re such a tease, aren’t you? Do you do this with all your tutors?”

“Hmm, I hope not, Cause I don’t think I wanna share you with anyone else.”

“What do you think about that? Hmm? Maybe next time, I’ll have you beg me to use my cock on you? Be my little cocksleeve while I try to teach that empty brain of yours some tricks. Oh? You’re clenching harder after hearing that? Dirty girl, the only thing in that noggin of yours is naughty things, huh?”

He pulls you to orgasm soon after, crooning at you and patting your hair, pushing your bangs out of your face and kissing you softly. Surprisingly great at aftercare, as he sits back down, with you on his lap, throwing his jacket over your bare thighs. Resting your head on his chest as he talks to you. “So, I’m free for another session next tuesday? But this time, let’s take it somewhere more private so I can have more fun with you, yeah?”

A/N: Please send me thoughts about fratboy!au im on my knees

#softy spice #₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #softy write #law x reader #law smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #geto x reader

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txttletale · 10 months

Note

hi I've been following you for a while and I had some questions about MLism. First, while I think I have a decent understanding of how it works economically, how would a ML government (after the revolution) ensure it doesn't become too powerful? like what systems would be put in place so that it hears public opinion and dissent (should there be any) and not try to maintain power through oppressive means?

Secondly, what would the aftermath of the revolution look like? once the government is overthrown, there will most likely be a period of instability where different factions trying to sieze control. How would the MLs make sure that they get seated in power?

I am genuinely trying to learn more about it, so I'm sorry if those questions are ignorant. Thanks!

i mean, that first part? i'll be completely honest with you and say that in my opinion that's a partially unsolved problem. i think that lenin's prescriptions in state & revolution, based on the actions of the paris commune--that all 'officials' should be subject to democratic recall at any time and paid no more than anyone else--would be a good start.

but of course the USSR did not ossify and see abuses of power because its leaders simply forgot about what lenin wrote--the centralization of power and limiting of worker democracy was a direct result of the newly formed state apparatus having to fight brutal years-long civil war followed as mere decade later by a brutal years-long international invasion. & this is of course a situation that will be faced by any serious socialist government & their newly formed apparatus!

however, on the other hand -- cuba has succesfully maintained an incredible system of participatory democracy. i think that mao's idea of the 'mass line' -- that theory must constantly be in dialogue with the situation on the ground and the situation of the workers -- is vital to maintaining this. in its own time of crisis, during the 90s, instead of 'pulling the ladder up' on workers' councils, cuba expanded and doubled down on its participatory democracy. i think if any nation has succesfully followed lenin's theory and example, it's cuba, and the mass workplace and municipal democracy that the cuban communist party has invited should be the model for any future socialist revolution.

and quite frankly the reason why MLs will 'take power' after the revolution is because marxism-leninism is the only revolutionary socialist ideology with a plan and ability to take and maintain power over the bourgeoisie. i think one thing reading lenin will very much clarify is that the socialist state is not something that is built after the revolution but a continuation of the revolution -- lenin explains aptly the marxist position that, having taken up arms in order to dethrone the bourgeoisie, to not establish a marxist dictatorship of the proletariat is to throw aside those arms that have already been wielded and used. 'not setting up a worker's state' isn't inaction, but a deliberate choice to be disarmed and helpless in the face of foreign intervention or counterrevolution.

and this is also why i think that while solving the (very real and dangerous!) spectres of bureaucracy, of revisionism, of socialist militias becoming police forces "special bodies of men apart from and above" the people instead of "self-acting armed organizations" of the people is a vital and pressing question for marxism-leninism to address in both theory and practice, it is just as vital to note that only marxism-leninism can succeed to the point where this becomes a problem--only marxism-leninism has shown the historical ability to put the workers in a position of political supremacy that they might risk losing to these flaws and missteps.

& seriously, don't be sorry for asking questions. any questions in good faith are welcomed on this blog, because i'm a communist and i do in fact think it is my job to explain communism to people. have a nice day & don't be so down on yourself!

#ask #Anonymous

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