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i23kazu · 4 months

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♡ THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU'RE HIS LOVER?!

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe wriothesley x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. part 1 !!!! when someone else claims to be their partner / work wife. office!au. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

you're pretty taken aback by the gall of this .... intern? whoever even was she? to claim that she was your husband's wife.

yep, that's how irrelevant she is

xiao was disgusted, to say the least. horrified.

"get your hands off me." he looks her in the eye, the sudden fierceness emitting a gasp from her.

"i love it when you're strict," she purrs, tracing her fingers up his neck. you smack them away.

"perhaps you'll love it if the ceo was stricter with you," you smile sweetly. "i don't think he takes too kindly to homewreckers."

zhongli

not again. not this ... piece of dirt? no, that might be an insult to his old friend guizhong.

she's a catty lady. beady eyes that went straight for his soul – her piercing stare seemed to always follow him.

he didn't like it one bit. his grip around your waist felt tighter, desperate even – a cold "let's go, dear," escaping his lips.

"so protective, suddenly?" you tease.

"i don't take kindly to those who try to insult my love, dearest."

diluc

oh, he goes red with rage. but he looks on at you proudly, because he knows you got it.

who even was she to claim that she loved him? a silly flowergirl who couldn't do her job right, because she was oogling him the whole time. she worshipped the ground he stepped on.

"who are you looking at?" you tap her on the shoulder, eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"that man... he's mine." she gazes into his eyes, looking him up and down. you scratch your neck. she asks if you're alright.

"i'm afraid i'll have to correct you on that statement. that man is mine." you grin, turning your hand to show her your ring.

kaeya

okay, you totally get it. your husband is hot. but literally the AUDACITY the lack of SHAME the the the-

"please, we've been put together for almost all our cases. isn't that right, darling? it's almost as if they know we're good for each other." they purr.

darling?? DARLING?? you'll show them darling

"is that so?" you chuckle. "perhaps i ought to write in, then. i'm not too sure if my husband takes well to that. a violation of his personal life, if you will."

they go white at the sight of the ring.

"that's my love." kaeya chuckles, watching then stomp away.

childe

he's wildly uncomfortable. "your complexion is deeply concerning, tartaglia," the doctor chuckles.

"i wonder why." he returns it dryly.

he's too nice to avoid them – those longing stares, the notes slipped through stacks of his paperwork – he cant crumple them up and throw them away. he pretends that they're from you instead.

when that witch comes around to his desk, purring and grimy witch hands all over his papers; pretending to annoy him –

he can't take it. it's disgusting.

"i'd appreciate it if you left me alone," he stares at her. "my partner and i would appreciate it very much."

wriothesley

oh, he's firm. he's firm, and he's strict about it. word gets around quickly in the meropide, and he sits back with his cup of tea and sighs at the thought of a work lover.

he doesn't stand for it, though. he hates the thought of that.

"get your hands away from me, please," he replies coldly, when they run up to hug him, first thing in the morning.

sigiewinne looks on with a proud smile. i raised that boy.

the girl turns away from him with disgust – from seemingly perfect to nothing but sludge beneath her feet. she slinks away, and wriothesley is satisfied.

he can't wait to tell you the news over a cup of your favourite tea.

perhaps some alone time with each other will do the both of you good.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @camvrin @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla @starchivves (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 month

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INVERSE FUNCTION (1)

yandere sukuna x fem!reader; stalking; insp: this song [pls listen to this after reading]

divider by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine; pls don't plagiarise/translate/repost this ❤️❤️

Sukuna is hooked on you.

He has no idea since when, why or how– but he has a very good idea of the degree he is hooked on you— each and every small bit of you–

Your sleepy face, first thing in the morning as you open the windows to your room, and stare at the sky then the empty street below. Your peppy walk out the apartment, not even an hour later as you head to your classes, always so punctual– so neatly, cutely dressed.

The warm smiles you offer everyone you come across— be it the kids waiting for their bus, the florist, the barista who serves you coffee, or the many classmates you've whenever you step into the class, words of greeting leaving you and brightening the room, more than the sun.

And not to mention the endearing look of concentration your pretty features wear, when the classes start.

Sukuna swears he has to actively, very painfully, restrain himself from walking right up to you and kissing your face off, each and every time your eyebrows gather together and your lips pucker into a pout– only for your teeth to sink into your lower lip not a moment later, the flesh there growing angry red, deliciously so, as you continue taking notes of the lecture.

Although... the man thinks his favourite look on you has got to be the one you wear in the evening: when the classes are over, when all your friends have finally left, when you're by yourself, no longer smiling as brightly as you do. Seeming so tired, so very fragile, as you trudge on the darkening streets back to your flat...

It makes something weird, but not wholly unpleasant, curl up within his chest. So strong that it makes him want to pick up into his arms, and keep you there forever, safe and sound and well-rested. Forever with him, tucked in the safety of his embrace—

Sukuna is not too sure, but he thinks this feeling might be why he has suddenly decided to break into your house today, instead of watching you from afar like he has always done. Or maybe, just maybe...

Watching you from a distance is no longer enough for him.

He has to enter the place you call 'home'.

He has to soak up every drop, memorise every fleck of your life here.

Starting from the random tiny doodles scribbled on the canary yellow walls— to the thick hardcover books and notebooks in neat stacks on the sofa, the table, the floor— to the pressure cooker kept on the oval burner of your gas stove— to the queen-size bed in a floral bed sheet, visible if he walks past the translucent screen between your bedroom and living room— to the sketchbook lying on the bed– its pages filled with– filled with–

Sketches Of Him!?!?

Him working in the garage on a car. Him smoking at the bus stop you travel from. Him dozing in class, head propped up on a fist. Him busy eating sandwiches, binoculars on the bench beside as his gaze stays somewhere above—

The sketchbook is filled with drawings of him, him, and only him—

Something stirs and stutters and stomps on his sternum; albeit he is unsure why. Is it the fact that he finally realises he is standing right in the middle of your bedroom– the most intimate place in your life? Or is it because he is staring at these many sketches your dainty fingers have made of him– so beautiful, so careful, so unlike him?

Can it be the unease clawing at him, stemming from your knowledge of him being in places close to you, where and when he should never be? Or– maybe or– is it the thrill tingling his fingers, when he realises, you too have been at places close to him, where and when you must never ever be...

A door opens and shuts behind him.

Sukuna swerves back to find you standing outside your bathroom, in nothing but a flimsy nightgown, hair still soaking wet whilst the towel hangs off your bare shoulders.

Your eyes jump from him to the sketchbook in his hand then to him— before crinkling into two pretty half-crescents as you smile... Sort of–

"Tea or coffee, stranger?"

follow the series here 🥰🥰 // masterlist

#kit writes: Inverse Function #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #ryomen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #tw yandere #kit posts 📝

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blood-moon-night-coining · 5 months

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Found this on Pinterest(link), I think it’d be good to share it here.

#📝 : post #🔊 : converation #bisexual #omnisexual #pansexual #polysexual #mutlisexual #mspec #lgbt #positivity #mogai positivity #lgbt positivity #mogai #liom

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bad-science · 11 months

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Fact! Cannibalism is OK if they deserved it

#cannibalism #evil #evil posting #villaincore #evilcore #heehoo #said this in my discord group chat and had to post #📝

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saleeba · 1 year

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thigh riding ; jude bellingham 🖤

summary ♡ i mean, literally what it says on the tin.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+ (mdni), smut, established relationship, thigh riding ofccc, softdom!jude (?), dirty talk, reader is a whiny mess, tiny bit of cunnilingus at the start, lots of making out bc jude bellingham having the most perfect lips and me not putting them to work would be an injustice, teeny bit of tit play, 0 plot 100% porn

a/n ♡ (yet another repost since tumblr hates me & decided to delete the last one 🫠) anon hiiii tysm for the request and for the lovely compliment 🥺💘 i hope this is what ur looking for <33 pls lmk if u have any feedback/requests my luvs :3

“oh, oh my god,” you purr, legs akimbo on the soft couch where you’re engaging in all things sinful with your boyfriend who’s kneeling on the stone-cold floor, your back arching off the material which causes jude to moan from the way your pussy pushes further onto his face.

the room is cool but your bodies are lit with the fuel of arousal. you’re completely naked by the way, jude’s one remaining item of clothing being the tight black briefs that put a strain on his rock solid cock. to say you can only see the outline of it would be an understatement. you could have sworn you’ve seen it twitch at least three times.

he’s been at it for the best part of twenty minutes now, tongue dipping in and out of your wet hole, but most of his mouth’s focus is on your growingly sensitive clit, every muscle working hard to suck, tease and kiss the bundle of nerves.

you haven’t been given the gift of even one orgasm in those twenty minutes however, the requests coming from your boyfriend’s swollen and pussy juice-coated lips insisting on you not cumming just yet and if you can hold on now, i promise i’ll make it worth the wait, darling.

jude’s tongue laps increasingly faster as the seconds pass, your eyes almost getting wetter than your soaked cunt over how unfair he’s being right now. your hands restlessly pull at his dark ringlets of hair, the moans leaving your mouth starting to become even more frenzied.

“oh fuck, jude, please,” you elongate the last syllable of that plea to show how desperate you are to finish all over his plump lips and skilled tongue, spine curving even more in an attempt to make him change his mind; change whatever he’s been planning and to just let you coat his mouth and chin with your cum.

his lips pull away from you before his large hands bring your shaking legs together, and you’re unable to comprehend how he can stop eating out your pulsating cunt and leave you unfulfilled so easily. a whine of exasperation subconsciously exits your throat.

jude bites his bottom lip to stifle a chuckle, standing up and sitting in the space on the sofa right next to you, feet firmly planted on the wooden floor.

“i promised that i would make all the teasing worth your while, right, baby?” he leans in to plant a small kiss on your pouting lips, unintentionally deepening it when he finds you laying your palms on his chest and kissing back with all the misplaced fervour you’d lost while chasing a high that never came from when his lips were lower down your body. you whine against the softness of his mouth, your own lips slightly parting to leave breathy moans. jude partially gapes his mouth too, taking in all the sounds and sighs imparting from your throat before he takes your mouth in his again, the two of you now passionately making out on the couch. before you both get carried away in the embrace of each other’s wandering hands, jude pulls away, leaving a conclusive smooch over the pout on your sweet face.

“come sit here then, darling.”

he spreads his legs and pats his left thigh, the one closest to you, and you almost haphazardly roll over in sheer desperation, the thought of your wetness on his bare skin creating a deliciously anticipating feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

as you hover over his thigh, jude can feel the heat of your cunt from inches away, gulping at the way your breathing gets shakier before you position yourself on his toned muscle with a satisfied groan.

“good girl,” he praises as you slip both hands onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, his own hands coming to grip you at the hips and hold you in place. “is my baby gonna ride me now, hm? ride my thigh until she gets what she deserves for being so good for me?” his wanton words make you clench down on the surface of his warm skin. you haven’t done this before but you’re determined to put on a show for jude and to finally enjoy the rewards of a well awaited orgasm.

you give him a hurried nod, shifting all your weight onto your hands and therefore his shoulders as you raise your body up slightly before coming back crashing onto him, a shameless moan leaving your lips when your cunt comes into contact with his thigh.

“ah, jude,” you whine out, hips rocking to run your slippery core up and down him. his spit from earlier and your own arousal helps to lubricate your gyrating movements, the ease of it all only making you move harder and faster on your lover’s thigh.

“you’re doing such a good job, sweetheart, fuck,” jude comments as he guides you on him, the slickness of your pussy turning him on beyond reason. “making a mess though, aren’t ya?” he looks down at the skin of his left thigh, now glistening with your juices.

you don’t move your eyes from his face but only whine some more, panting into the parting of his lips. “o-oh my god, jude, you feel so good.”

he grips onto your hips harder, surely leaving a bruise in the making, but you don’t care, the feeling of his muscular thigh so glorious under your drenched folds.

“you close, baby? let me help you out,” jude’s now grinding you against him himself, almost lunging your entire body into him. again you don’t mind because the sensation is so fucking good, your brain dizzy with the pretty image of his gritted teeth and dark furrowed brows. your clit throbs at the spectacle in front of and below you.

“want you to cum on my thigh, darling, need you to cum on my thigh,” he’s the one getting whiny now, voice reaching an ever so slightly higher frequency. “you deserve it, baby girl, let go for me, angel, cum all over me.” he slips the very tip of his thumb over your clit, making you nearly scream with the contrast of friction over the wet squelches of your cunt rubbing on him.

“jude, fuck, i’m so close, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re really asking for because jude is giving you his all, head ducked down and lips now on your left nipple, sucking and swirling it with his tongue, the stimulation feeding the journey to your orgasm. “shit, fuck, fuck.”

your mewling and moaning get louder, the sounds of your sopping cunt and the quiet groans coming from your lover heating up the air around you. jude pulls his mouth off your tit with a pop before his face comes into line with yours.

“cum for me, darling,” he coos, hands now at your waist to get a more centred control of your rapidly moving body. “my baby girl deserves to cum, been working so hard and so good for me, haven’t ya, sweetheart?” he flexes his thigh suddenly, the muscle seeming like it could almost penetrate you.

and with that, the cord in your lower stomach snaps. the explosive feeling travels right through to your weeping pussy where you make an unholy amount of mess on jude’s thigh, your cum gushing onto his brown skin.

you let out an almost anguished belter of a scream before jude catches it with his mouth, tongue slipping in to cradle yours as your moans get smaller and smaller, dissipating past his lips. pussy now clenching on him, he intensifies the kiss, guiding you to lay down on the sofa as he balances on top of you, hands still clasped on the contour of your waist, yours now hooked around his neck. your aching legs wrap around him instinctively and his mouth is hardworking as ever right now, dancing against yours in a heatedly sweet method.

it feels like hours before you both pull away for the sake of air, neither of you wanting to do so. jude leaves a romantically deep kiss on your lips before pulling his face up to look into your eyes.

“did so good for me, baby,” he mumbles, moving down to leave kisses on your neck as you take this opportunity to finally pant out the effects of your orgasm and catch your breath. “always so good for me.”

you experience the hardness of his cock twitch again, this time feeling it on your inner thigh. you’re not totally spent, right?

you lay a kiss on the tip of his nose before smiling oh so sweetly.

“let me repay you now, jude. please?”

#TAKE THREE AAAAND ACTION 🎬#actually a JOKE how many times ive posted this now 😭😭#anyway anon tysmm for the request i hope you like thisss 🥺💘#if you haven’t read it already over the past 2 days that is 😭#˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ 💬 ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ ✉️ ˎˊ˗#anon #jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut

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spideystevie · 1 year

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oo maybe 5 from the fluffy dialogue prompts w hangman?? ily -vinny

vinny my love <3 something possessed me and i blacked out and came to and saw i’d written almost 2k words. only a little insane. anyway i hope you like it!! [1.8k] @callsignsaturn | 5. "stay as long as you want"

It was sunny when you’d first gone inside the Hard Deck. The sun shining almost unbearably bright that it had caused you to squint, sweat starting to bead up around your hairline.

Now, as you ready yourself to leave, it’s like the sun has disappeared. The sky was dark and murky and seemingly seconds away from cracking open and unleashing a flood. There’s a distant rumble of thunder in the clouds that makes you tense.

“You better leave now if you wanna beat out the storm,” Penny says, passing you your card. You smile weakly at her and nod. You’re in the middle of digging out your wallet to put your card away when Jake ambles up to the bar to close his own tab. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Jake. That was the problem, you liked Jake a lot more than you probably should, much to the dismay of your best friend Bob. And as much as Bob hated to admit it, Jake liked you too.

And while both of those statements were true, neither of you had made any move to make anything official between you two. Sure, you’d gone on a couple of dates and kissed a few times and sure, maybe you’d almost slept with him but that was one time. And, okay, maybe he acted like your boyfriend when other people were around but that was it.

You weren’t entirely blame-free. You knew you could ask him but you were stubborn and maybe a little bit prideful and you wanted him to do it first. And when he hadn’t, well, you were starting to get a little annoyed. You hurriedly shove your wallet into the front pocket of your jeans and push off the bar.

“Thanks, Penny,” you call over your shoulder. You rush out the door, trying to hide against the wall while you waited for an Uber or maybe even Bob, though he’d left an hour ago, to come pick you up. The service you’re getting is less than satisfactory and you watch the homepage of the app load with no end in sight.

“Do you need a ride?” Jake’s voice startles you and the hand not holding your phone comes up to clutch the spot above your heart. He at least looks apologetic when you meet his eye.

“No, thank you, I’ll just take an Uber,” you say, looking back down at your phone. He tsks, causing you to look back at him with an eyebrow raised. You cross your arms over your chest, almost as a protective measure.

“C’mon, Bob would never let me live if he knew I let you take an Uber instead of giving you a ride and making sure you got home safe,” he says, only a little exasperated. Your arms fall to their sides as you grumble, knowing that he’s right.

“Fine,” you sigh, shoving your phone in your pocket. “Lead the way.”

The drive to your house is quiet, save for the steady nervous beat of your heart and the rain that’s started to lash against the windows of his car. The windshield wipers are constant and squeak a little as they push the never ending rain off the glass. He drives slow, cautious, which you’re thankful for even if it extends the drive almost double.

He pulls up in front of your house and shifts the car into park. You stare at the windshield wipers swaying back and forth. It’s barely seven o’clock but it feels much later with the sun completely hidden beneath the haze of clouds and rain.

You can hear him open his mouth to speak, a soft inhale. You beat him to it.

“Do you…want to come in?” you ask tentatively. He blinks at you and you start to stammer. “Just..just until the rain lets up! It’s probably not…safe for you to drive back to base in this.”

Slowly, he shrugs. “Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeat, almost shocked that he’d agree. Something of a smile crosses his face only briefly as he cuts the engine and pulls his keys from the ignition. He nods.

“Yes, okay,” and then he’s opening his door and running out into the rain. You’re not as fast, your mind still reeling because he’s going to be in your house and not for predisposed reasons. He takes the extra minute to pull your door open for you and help you out of his car. His palm is warm against yours as you run the short distance to your front door.

Jake seems to realize he’s still holding your hand when you pause to pull out your keys and he lets go almost like he’s been burned. His cheeks look a little pink but that could just be from the cold rain. You make quick work of the lock before ushering him inside ahead of you.

Water drips from your hair and the hems of your clothes as you stand in your front entryway after toeing off your shoes. You stare at each other for a beat and you will yourself not to stare at the way his shirt is sticking to his chest. You wonder if he can hear you gulp.

“Um, I’ll grab some towels,” you say, disappearing down a hall and around a corner. Jake’s focus turns to the few picture frames you have hung up by the door. There’s an old one of you with your family on some kind of vacation. The other one holds a much younger capture of you and Bob at his graduation from the Naval Academy.

“I grabbed you a towel and then some old clothes Bob’s left behind that might fit and you can throw the ones you’ve got on in the dryer if that’s…” you trail off when you see him smiling at the photos on the wall. He looks over at you and taps a knuckle against the one of you and Bob.

“Cute,” he muses and you think you'll explode with the amount of heat rising to your face. He steps towards you and you hastily hold out the towel and change of clothes. It’s then that he notices you’ve changed into pajamas of your own. When everything’s out of your hands you take a step back and clear your throat.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left. Laundry room on the right,” you gesture with your finger and he nods, giving you one last look before heading that way. You don’t think you breathe until you hear the door click shut behind him.

You’re not sure why you feel so nervous around him all of a sudden. He’d had his hands in your pants and lips against your neck not even two weeks ago and here you were, feeling like you’d fall over at any given moment. Granted, the two of you hadn’t exactly talked about what had happened then and you spent the last two weeks skirting around each other. But that's besides the point.

You try to steel yourself, breathing deeply before you head into the kitchen to try and find something you can cook for dinner. The whole thing feels so domestic. Jake, who, at this point, might as well be your boyfriend, changing in your bathroom while you’re in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. You’ve got enough heat on your face you think you could fry an egg with it.

He comes in while you’re stirring the noodles for pasta. You turn to look at him, eyes soft when you catch sight of him in an old, tattered pair of plaid pajama pants and a black t-shirt. You turn back around before he can catch you staring.

The rain still hasn’t let up by the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen. It’s a constant thrum against your windows, accompanied by the occasional flash of lightning somewhere a few miles off. You’re putting away the last plate when he clears his throat behind you.

“I should probably get going,” he says. You close the cabinet and turn to look at him. The dryer still spins down the hall, the sound of your clothes tumbling around muffled by the closed laundry room door.

“I don’t think the rain’s gonna stop anytime soon,” you say, hinting around an invitation to stay longer. His eyes widen if only slightly. You shift on your feet.

“You’d let me stay the night?” he asks, a little disbelieving. You stare at him, your arms crossed over your chest. The expression on your face is a little impassive, though he thinks there might be a smile shining in your eyes.

“You can stay,” you swallow suddenly feeling a little shy, “as long as you want.”

You have a hard time meeting his eyes. There’s a shuffling of feet, the socks you lent him sliding against the flooring of your kitchen. When your toes nearly touch, he presses a finger under your chin and nudges your face up gently. You think he might be smirking when you look up at him but it’s softer than that. His dimple is showing and there are creases by his eyes.

“I knew you liked me,” he says. You roll your eyes and purse your lips, willing yourself not to smile. You tilt your head and his finger leaves the underside of your chin, his palm coming to rest against your cheek.

“Hmm…and what made you think that?” you tsk, furrowing your eyebrows. He shakes his head, his smile deepening around the edges and the sight of it pulls your smile out of you. His thumb brushes against your lower lip.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice lowering an octave making a slight shudder run down the length of your spine. Something between the two of you shifts, maybe for the better you hope as his face lowers to yours. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you but it almost feels like it is.

His lips brush yours almost hesitant at first, a silent question of is this okay? that you answer by cupping his face and pulling him fully against you. Your heart seems to soar, a light exhale leaving you as you shift your hands to wrap your arms around his neck.

He kisses you soft and slow, all languid give and take, like he has all the time in the world. Like his sole purpose in life is to kiss you like this forever. You wouldn’t mind, not in the slightest. You pull back, your chest pressing against his with each inhale you take and the tip of your nose brushing against the slope of his.

#this has been in the drafts for weeks now #just waiting to be posted #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin fluff #hangman fluff #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #jake seresin blurb #hangman blurb #📝: a writes!

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sadderdaazee · 4 months

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“𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬.”

pairings; choso kamo x fem!reader! (she/her)

warnings; hair-down choso, fluff, ooc choso (kinda?? idek lmao 💀) very insomniac reader, car rides, overspeeding, reader is kinda shorter than choso + not proofread!

wc; 3k ish

insp; a playlist. song recc below.

“you still up?”

“yeah...”

the mattress shifts and whispers beneath you.

“can’t sleep?”

“mhm,” you murmur against your pillow, skimming your fingers delicately against his jaw, thumb caressing that tattoo adorning the bridge of his nose.

wondering if they’re mistakes of adolescence or marks of fashion. you don’t ask him, though. you like to unravel the reasons by your own.

“why?”

“mmm…” your moan stifles within choso’s shoulder as you press your face deeper into his bare skin, not quite answering his curiosity.

he chuckles.

“you gonna be fine, lovey,” he doesn’t ask further. he knows you’ll tell him when you want to. so, in a breath, choso’s calloused hand tugs against your neck, pulling you into his bare chest in a groggy embrace, kissing the top of your head again and again and again.

you smile into his chest, fingers drawing circles against his tattoo laden limbs and cheeks pressing against his warm skin.

“try countin’ sheeps in y’head,” he places one deep murmured kiss against your head, your leaden eyes fluttering in a sigh.

“already tried that.” you confess among listening to the thunder brawling beneath his ribs.

he doesn’t reply, lips pressing about your head and feeling your stress ebb under his skin.

then, he’s sitting up till the blanket billowing about his limbs covers less of him and more of yours.

you ache the lost feeling of his bare skin burning within yours when he’s standing up.

“where’re y’goin…” you mutter in a leaden sigh, draped in a muzzy contorted whine.

choso doesn’t reply, disappears into the closet as you sit up, blanket falling from your nude limbs.

the cool air seeps about your skin, drooping from your collar to your bare breasts.

you await, fiddling with your fingers in that renowned anticipation he’s memorized. worried that this time, maybe choso’s finally had it with your nightly plights.

and when he’s appearing back from the closet, more modest — a sweater concealing his tattoos that paint about his abs, his hair sweeping against his shoulders, he’s throwing a hoodie towards you.

“what’s this— oh, i need to wear my bra—” you scurry among the blanket’s waves, searching for your bra laying somewhere, but with a tut of choso’s tongue, you sit still.

your gaze imprisons his sight, one thats drawing closer till distance is a plaything amongst you and him, his breath becoming one with yours.

his eyes haphazardly trail to yours, to your perky nipples that harden under the scarce heat of your blanket and the hiraeth of the lingering heat from his skin.

and just when you’re expecting him to press himself to you, kiss and burn what’s left of you in embers, pin you against the bed till he’s one with you and your bare bodies speak more than words, he’s only forcing your hands up.

they face the ceiling, loose and submitting, and with the confusion draping your gaze, he’s picking the hoodie thats fallen onto your lap, a knee on the mattress as you slither closer to him.

he’s pulling the hoodie over your head and taking each of your arms, weaving them through the sleeves of his hoodie without meeting your gaze once. the hoodie sheaths against your skin, his scent drawling into your skin and nose, scent leaving the fabric

his fingers comb through your scalp, arranging the stray tufts of hair that fall against your face, and you sneak a glance his way, only to find his eyes already doting yours, trailing from your gaze to your lips and to your eyes again.

you suck a breath, parting your lips because obviously, he has something on his mind, something involving you and him to go out.

at 1 a.m, that is.

“where are we go—” but you’re already being picked up, choso’s fingers pressing by your flesh and holding you in a bridal carry.

and like a reflex, your hands circle around his neck.

“shh,” he kisses your head again, gesturing toward the key holder. “relax that pretty little head, we’re only goin’ out.”

“this late?” you take the key to his car and he carries you out of the house, uses the key to unlock his car, hands still pressing you into his body.

“mm, yes, the roads will be clear.” he smiles. “promise bubby, you’ll love it.”

then, he’s gently placing you in the passenger seat, closing the door and seating himself by the driver’s seat.

he leans by you, and finds confusion still plaguing onto your lips, pulls your seatbelt and straps you by the seat.

his dark locks flood by his face when he’s turning the music on.

and you’re admiring it. urging to fish the wayward strands behind his ear and kiss the curve of his jaw.

yet, you stare at him with an eyebrow perched, despite the endearing gaze that melts within your irises.

“is it today?” you ask, eyebrow threatening to mend with your hairline.

“what’s today?”

“the day you kill me and bury me in a forest?”

a hearty giggle births among choso’s succulent lips, flourishing into a laughter that entrances every thread in your body.

the faintest fluster bruises the flesh beneath your skin at the sound, within the heat thats billowing across your face, not that its visible anyways.

“no, no,” he wipes the tear slipping away from his lashes, “i’d kill myself before killing you.”

“wow. at least leave me alone in the afterlife.” you find yourself swallowing the small rumble of that chuckle that breathes within your chest.

“nah, nah,” he says as he steers and turns, trees sprinting about, the veins beneath his skin flexing, urging you to do something unwise. “don’t want no man up there take any chances with my girl.”

“ew.” you roll your eyes, mischief gripping your gaze taut, “so possessive and jealous.”

“ah, maybe you’d take your chances with the hot guys up there.”

but you’re already throwing yourself onto him, playfully punching him as he dodges them, laughing and warning the road ahead. and with a huff, you settle back in your seat, hands folded by your chest.

“perish.” you pout.

“aww,” he smiles. “you resemble a cat— oh, you wanna eat something?” choso asks, pulling through a small 7/11 store open nearby.

you nod with a grin. “ice-cream.” you reply, watching him get out of the car.

he walks over to your side, opens the door for you and you’re reminded how you’re not even wearing your sandals.

but alas, choso is leaning over you, taking your sandals from the backseat, which you wonder when he’d put them there. he’s crouching again, taking your sandals and slipping them over your socked feet.

you grin up at him, mouthing a small i love you that’s weaved beneath your words when he takes your hand and leads you out of the car.

“my prince charming.” scarred, that is.

the aisles are dimly lit and choso’s fingers entwine amidst yours. he looks at you, watches your eyes spry about when you’re shuffling through the different varieties of ice-cream in the freezer.

and he’s reminded yet again, how every second with you makes him fall over and over for you. and maybe he will fall in love with you more, he doesn’t know the limits. doesn’t even want to know the limits. all he knows is he’s content till there’s still a smile hidden beneath your lips.

he hates the pang in his chest when he sees your weary eyes every second night, unable to succumb to rest. or when your lids would flutter anxiously amidst sleeping. he would kiss them to a soft still, closer, pulling you into him.

“butterscotch or mint chocochip.” you ask, finger pressing against your bottom lip with a frown plaguing your gaze.

“both.” he kisses the side of your head, “i’ll take whichever you wouldn’t.”

“we’ll just kiss and mix the flavors, no big deal.” you shrug.

“you want me to kiss you?” he smirks, its cheesy.

“what if i do?”

his hand slides lower till they hover right above your waist. God darn him for being tall, because when he’s so close, his eyes entrapping yours, you can’t help but look up. he has to lean down a bit, so his lips are meeting yours and caressing them like a quiet soliloquy.

it’s not a deep indulgent kiss, rather a peck. coupled with another, peppering against your own. you smile. he pecks it too.

pecks the corner of your lips, your nose, your forehead, then your lips again — until a stifled cough musters your attention.

the girl skimming through her magazine at the counter physically scowls at you both.

you kiss choso’s cheek, the fluster right at the corner of his tattoo, tucking the drooling strands of his hair that fall against your face before pulling back, taking two of the ice-cream cones out of the freezer, heading towards the register and billing the stuff. choso pays.

then, he’s circling his arms around your waist from behind, letting you lead him to the car as his lips keep pecking your neck. you tell him to stop, voice laden with intangible chuckles he could store into the chambers of his heart.

the tufts of his dark locks fall against his eyes as he combs his fingers through them, pushing them back as you both lean on his car.

you unwrap both of the cold desserts, and you feed him mint-chocolate first. then you raise the butterscotch one to his face, and he licks it too. you follow, licking mint one first then butterscotch.

“i like the butterscotch one,” you tell him and give him the mint one. “you?” your hand tucks into the pocket of the hoodie you were wearing when a small gust of winter breeze kisses your skin.

“i like you.” he replies, arm snaking around your waist to pull you so close to him in the empty parking lot with only a street lamp to flicker amidst.

your back presses against him, and you can feel his heartbeat rumble within his ribs and reverb against yours from the back. and you’ve come to realize, your hearts beat in sync. it makes yours skip a beat. love him more.

“i like butterscotch more.” you tease, a giggle slipping from your lips as your eyes meet the sky, grey clouds staring down at you, blanketing the sky with its sweater.

he chuckles softly before turning you around. you look up at him, and he watches your eyes bloom, with a kind of bubbly and unconcealed excitement and happiness, so absurdly precious — he can’t help but fall for you once more.

you kiss him again, lost within the strawberry blooming by his tattoo you dote so much. the taste of his mint-chocochip mingles with your butterscotch, and you chuckle. he chuckles too.

you both can taste it. the cool peppery butterscotch on your tongues.

he likes it better mixed. like you and him. mended together. one together.

he licks his ice-cream, and you just stare at each others eyes, the crisp of winter lingering beneath your tongues, the flickering street lamps shadowing what it can.

then, you bite your ice-cream with mischief hugging your grin.

impish horror flashes choso’s eyes.

he grimaces.

“that has to be borderline psychotic.” he licks and uses his lips to bite the ice cream.

you laugh, and he loves the way your chest quakes and reverberates within his.

“you’re just weak.” you kiss him again, taste the winter flurrying against his lips. you shiver onto his lips, and he nuzzles you deeper within his chest.

you both enjoy the moment, dimly lit under the moon as the clouds move by, and when you’re finished with the dessert, you’re sitting back inside the car. choso’s revving the engine, and you’re watching him with a dreamy gaze.

wondering how you’d gotten so lucky?

you don’t remember the first time you saw him. you thought he was like a cat, you called him a cat, and he was combing his hair back in the parking of your college. you didn’t fall for him at first sight though.

you barely remember when you fell for him.

he was a curiosity you wanted to pet at first, knowing at the back of your head that unraveling that curiosity would sink his presence beneath your ribs and settle its home right beside your heart.

but he only settled his home within your heart.

“you’re so beautiful,” you don’t acknowledge you’re speaking your thoughts.

he doesn’t mind it. you don’t either.

instead, he smiles and turns the music on, hand giving your thighs a squeeze.

“yeah?” he asks with that small voice that rouses your melting heart to collapse into a puddle.

“very.” you reply. “i love you.”

i love you too. he wants to say. so utterly, madly, so desperately that you’ve become the lighthouse of my thoughts, i barely want to enjoy anything without your smiles and teasing marks. he could add.

he doesn’t.

he smiles wider.

you lean back within your seat adopting his smile, but the biting worry still claws at the back of your throat like a prickly knife stuck between your ribs. worry of what had been keeping you up tonight. how long will you be stealing your boyfriend’s sleep like this?

so you sigh.

if choso notices it, he doesn’t speak on it.

he decides to accelerate his car, just a notch that would bubble up fuzzy excitement within your guts and would pull a smile on your lips.

“told ya’ the roads would be empty.” he grins, and grins wider when he sees your toothy one.

then he accelerates more, and you’re sinking into your seat from the pressure. it doesn’t deny the laughter fizzing at the back of your throat, and choso laughs among yours, feeling the engine of his car roar.

like an interlude of choirs singing amongst your breaths, and your hand latched against his bicep despite the big, giddy smile on your face.

you trust choso with your life, but the delirium that came with speeding so fast on this lone road had you pressing your fingers deeper into his skin, that if you were to let go, you’d be washed away.

“heyy, open y’eyes, you’re missing out!” he shouts over the roaring engine with a breathy laugh that creases his eyes. you slowly pry your eyes open, and had that sight not stolen your breaths, you would tell him how beautiful it is.

the stars are kissing, all blurry as choso slows down. they draw clearer, and finally, at the edge of road, they picture against your gaze, twinkling over the gleam thats spry within your eyes.

choso huffs an exhale, his hair falling against his shoulders.

“come,” he says, exiting the car and opening the door for you. he doesn’t give you the chance to help yourself as he picks you up in his arms. you use your feet to remove your socks, barefeet within his arms. he doesn’t forget to take the big cozy shawl you forgot in his car.

the fleeting blue luminates against the underside of choso’s face. the fleeting blue from the ocean that’s lighting in sparks and glittery blue from the bioluminescence.

the vast sky sways to the breeze along with the palm trees, the cool wind nipping at your skin. you digress, mind completely delved unto the admiration of what was in front of you. and if you were lying, even a little, you’d say this wasn’t the most enthralling sight you’ve ever seen.

everything smelled of saltwater and winter, eyes lighting with hues of blue at the mercy of the sea.

choso places you down to your feet, the wet sand instantly kissing your feet that makes you cringe. but you digress that too, when you see how your footprints leave marks when you’re walking against it, glittery, your mouth pried slightly apart awaiting words you can’t speak yet.

“choso…” you coax, in a tone meant to say his name, breath flurrying within the air in vapor. you can taste the salt hanging within the air. wonder if his lips would adopt the taste too.

for a while, choso smiles, hugging you from behind and kissing the top of your head.

“like it?” he asks, his hands within the pocket of your hoodie as you walk towards the lucent water.

“i’ve never seen anything like this…” you’re whispering, too amused by the water under the black silk draped over the sky. “it’s beautiful.”

“more than me?”

“yes.” you elbow him lightly with an impish tease draping your tone.

you feel him shiver above your head, and you think if he’s cozy enough.

you pull him closer anyways, stopping by where the starry sea bruises the shore. he shivers foot to foot. you tuck his hands deeper within yourself, feel his teeth cease to clatter, when you’re turning around and embracing your arms around his awfully muscled limbs.

“you’re an idiot,” you scold when you feel his shivers dissolve beneath your embrace.

“why?” he asks, sitting by the wet sand, still within your arms as you’re placed on his lap.

he has a smile on his lips. a grin under his teeth, a hand rubbing against your back and other fiddling with the countless white specks of seashells within the sand.

the tip of his nose is scarlet, a compliment to his tattoo drawing about his nose. you like to kiss it. so you kiss it. once. maybe twice. or thrice. you never count.

you play with the countless blues shimmering beneath your fingers when you touch the sand, pressing your cheek against the middle of his chest, eyes meeting the blue of the ocean across your shoulder, then looking up at his gaze, one thats trained about the expanding ocean where the sparkles of blue dissolve to dark water. “because—”

but his lips are ceasing your words. he kisses you. kisses more. kisser even deeper. and he has to think if he’s even been so lost in a kiss before. he pulls you closer, closer than he’s ever let anyone, till theres just no distance left amongst you. your hands draw up, cupping his face and he physically feels the ocean wash him away, heart an erratic thing missing the beats somewhere within the salty taste of your lips and the crisp of the air.

and when he pulls back, a little breathless than before, he chuckles.

“idiot in love with you.” his fingers dance about your hair as he drapes his shawl over you two.

he wants to tell you how he’s visited this beach before. how he’s seen all of this already. what he also wants to tell you is that visiting then was never the same as now. he couldn’t find the beauty of it as mesmerizing as he does now, couldn’t put a finger on that spark that illuminated the sea like he can now.

you lay your head over his collar, kissing the bone endlessly till your eyes are quietly lulled by the washing waves of the ocean, sleepy. you quietly admire the beauty of the sea a little more, for a while more, till your head is lulling within him and you’re submitting to slumber completely.

he gazes at the endless sea till he cannot think anymore, hands rubbing over your limbs in an endearing caress.

and when his eyes are finally looking down, he’s met with a sleeping you.

softly breathing against his chest, the quiet rise and fall beneath your ribs in sync with his.

he has to bite back that overly impish grin, steal himself to not kiss your sleeping face. he finds himself carrying you back to his car, laying you in the seat with the shawl draped about you.

and just when he’s about to close the door, sit by the drivers seat and take you back home, he leans and pecks your lips.

you smile.

“i love you.”

(reblog + like)

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son-of-starlight · 5 months

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"Hello?" Rusty calls out, slamming his breaks to a stop, causing his train to jostle a bit behind him. Rusty turns around and apologizes quietly before standing up as tall as he can and calling out to the fellow piece of rolling stock who seemed to be by themself on the rail. Rusty was uncertain of how to proceed. This wasn't just some debris he could pick up and move...this machine could be hurt. He didn't want to travel any further until he was certain they were okay. "Are you alright?" Rusty calls out again, and for good measure, he whistles loudly. The kind of whistle used as an attention getter by little switching engines...he hadn't quite grown out of that habit.

#starlight express #starlight express rp #stex #stex rp #roleplay blog #📝Starter Prompts!#gonna post a punch of starters because I have been thinking abt my Rusty SOOO much I wanna do things with him #but I can't write fics for some reason. brain won't let me.#so rp is the easier and more fun option

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beomdrs · 1 year

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‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖸/𝖭 𝖤𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖢𝖳 !!

hello !! welcome to my post. it's been a long time since i last posted, and as u can tell my format n style has totally changed. i plan to make my posts like this from now on, so i hope u guys enjoy it!

𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖨𝖲 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖷𝖷 𝖤𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖢𝖳?

the xx effect is a term coined for when something huge happens because of or due to a person or thing. popular examples of this are the wonyoung effect, the jennie effect and the jimin effect.

𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖸/𝖭 𝖤𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖢𝖳.

✦ whatever products that u own, wear or buy will always trend and sell out immediately (inspo from the jennie effect).

✦ people are motivated to lead a more productive lifestyle to be the perfect person like u (inspo from the wonyoung effect).

✦ u have an aesthetic/core inspired after ur style.

✦ both kpop fans and locals come together to protect u from any allegations or scandals.

✦ other groups/soloists plan their comebacks properly to avoid being overshadowed by urs (inspo from snsd).

✦ ur performances often have locals making them question their sexuality (inspo from the jimin effect).

✦ people often stare at u whenever ur doing ur own stuff as it seems so fascinating.

✦ the events or shows that ur attending will go viral and lots of people tune in to them just to see u.

#kpop shifting #shifting community #reality shifting #shifting realities #shiftblr #desired reality #ningdrs’ posts #📝 things to script!

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fordohyon · 9 months

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BEAR MASCOT...

PAIRING -

Kim Woonhak x GN! Reader

SUMMARY - (not really s summary but a preview(ish) thingy??)

You sigh as you remove the heavy mascots head, a cool breeze from a fan chilling your flushed cheeks. You notice one of the basketball players standing behind you. Number 23. "I never knew you were a girl," he comments. "Or pretty."

TAGS -

fluff, fluff, and…. fluff!!

WARNING(s) -

mistaking reader for a girl, calling reader pretty, Mutual pining? maybe being too short. English isn’t my first language so please expect grammatical & spelling errors 😭

lmk if i left out anything,, Not proofread!

WORD COUNT - 1.3k

A/N - should i make this into a series??? also plz tell me if there are any grammatical errors or what. I'd also really appreciate it if you give me feedback and reblog!!

It's been precisely two hours since you donned the bear mascot outfit representing your school. You only agreed to do it because no one else volunteered and thought it might be fun. However, the experience has been anything but fun. With only 30 to 40 minutes left in the costume, you are counting down the seconds until you can take it off.

The basketball jersey, hat, and shoes the bear is wearing are decorated with your school's logo, with the school's signature colors of yellow and green accenting the trim, number, and player names. You are thankful that nobody from other sections knows it's you inside the costume; otherwise, you would feel incredibly embarrassed.

You check the time and realize that 20 minutes have already passed. You hope the game will end in the next 10 minutes or so. A few students request a picture with you, and you oblige them. Five more minutes pass, and the game is nearly over. You can’t wait to get out of the mascot outfit and take a shower.

Sweat drips down to your ankles, causing you to shiver. This is the longest you have ever worn the mascot, 2 hours and 10 minutes.

After what had seemed about an eternity, the game finally finished. All of the players and spectators collected their belongings and fled. Except for a handful who freshened up or spent time with their friends prior to heading home, unfortunately for you, Kim Woonhak happened to be one of those individuals, for whom you were growing feelings.

Once everyone had left, you finally had the chance to rid of the ludicrous costume that had caused you to sweat profusely. Though you noticed a few lingering figures in the vicinity, you chose not to approach them, assuming they were likely teachers, janitors, or guards. As you removed the mascot's head, a cool breeze struck your face. you were taken aback to find Kim fucking Woonhak standing there, his jaw dropping and eyes bulging in what appeared to be an utter shock - as though he had just witnessed the most unbelievable thing in his life. "I... I never knew you were a girl, or uhm.. uhh... pretty!" Holy shit. This is extremely mortifying. You can't even begin to express the depths of humiliation you're feeling. The fact that it involves Kim Woonhak, the person you've had the most obvious crush on since sixth grade, makes it incredibly, excruciatingly, so intensely humiliating. Is it just you or does it seem like the fan isn't working?

"Thank... you?" The words slipped out of your mouth, your voice wavering with uncertainty. As you fidgeted with the bottom half of the mascot, your hands betrayed your nervousness. The expression on your face told the whole story - a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and the discomfort of being caught off guard. Sweat trickled down your forehead, emphasizing the redness that flushed your face, a combination of the stifling heat and the overwhelming humiliation of the moment. Woonhak's unexpected presence only intensified your unease, leaving you at a loss for words.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I-I was just checking if anyone was here since I was uh, gonna lock up the.. uhm... gym!" Woonhak stammered, his apology filled with genuine concern. He tried his best to shed the awkward tension that enveloped the air but fell short in his attempt.

"It's alright. No need to apologize," you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here either. I assumed it was just teachers and guardians. Guess we both got caught off guard." You utter as you took hold of the lower half of the costume, a sudden chill in the air sent a shiver down your spine. The contrast between the hot and humid gym and the cooler surroundings intensified the discomfort, further adding to the already awkward situation.

Woonhak nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious. You tried to disregard it, but the emotion only grew stronger. You wished you could just evaporate- or at least get out of this sweaty, reeking costume.

As you struggled to remove the rest of the bear suit, Woonhak stepped forward to help. You were grateful for the gesture, but it only caused you to feel more exposed and vulnerable. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your hands were quivering so badly that you could barely get a hold of the zipper.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you were unburdened by the costume. You took a deep breath of fresh air and felt the calm draft wash over your sweaty skin. You turned to thank Woonhak, but he was already walking away, his head down and his hands playing with the fabric of his jersey.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you couldn't blame him for wanting to get away from the awkward situation. You gathered your things and headed out of the gym, feeling fatigued and embarrassed. you couldn't help but replay the uncomfortable encounter in your head, wondering if things would ever be the same between you and Woonhak.

As you make your way out of the gym, you notice Woonhak and his group of friends looking at you. Just as you try to avoid their gaze, he rides up to you on his bike, beckoning you to join him. "It'll be faster if you ride with me. Don't forget to take a warm shower, wouldn't want you to catch a cold. I want to see you tomorrow!" His words catch you off guard, and you can't help but feel a mix of confusion and excitement.

Up close, Woonhak looks even better than you remembered. His endearing smile and delicate demeanor make him seem like a big teddy bear. You hesitate for a moment, recalling the events that happened earlier, but ultimately agree to ride with him. "Uh, okay," you reply, your voice tinged with nervousness. Despite your uneasiness, you're grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

As Woonhak makes his way down the road on his bike, he suddenly turns to you. "Hug me, so you don't fall." he says with a smile. You're surprised by his proposal, but you don't hesitate to envelop your arms around him. As you hold on to him tightly, you feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. It's as if all of your nervousness vanished at that moment, and you can't help but feel grateful for his presence. Being in his arms feels like a dream come true, and you can't help but wonder if this is the start of something special.

As you ride on his bicycle, you can't help but feel a sense of security and contentment. The wind rushes through your hair, and the relaxed breeze washes over your skin. You feel alive and free, and for the first time in a long while, Woonhak's company is enough to make you feel safe.

As you reach your destination, you shift to thank Woonhak for the ride. But before you can say anything, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You feel your face flush with warmth, and your heart races with excitement. You can't believe that this is happening to you - it's like something out of romance fiction.

"Thanks for the ride," you murmur, your voice barely audible. Woonhak beams at you, and you feel a sense of belonging wash over you. Maybe this is the start of something special, something you've been yearning for all your life. As you make your way back home, you can't help but let out a squeal of excitement. You're grateful for the unexpected turn of events, and you can't wait to see what the future holds. But for now, you're content just being in the moment with the person who makes your heart skip a beat.

do not translate, repost on other websites, or take my work. posts on tumblr, stay on tumblr. I do not cross-post my work unless I say so!

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i23kazu · 5 months

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♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

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vagabond-umlaut · 11 months

Text

every rose and its 'twin prickles'

Or: you and the two fearsome monsters, your knightly husband must wage a war against everyday, for the sake of a glimpse of you.

▸ dad!gojo satoru x mom!reader; 1.45 wc; fluff, fluff, gallons and gallons of fluff; a pair of cute, possessive and too-wise-for-their-age babies who love their mama wayyy too much; poor miserable deprived 'toru; sprinkles of humor too added in there; implied no curses!au

▸ i dump the blame of this on @afortoru's shoulders. A, look what you made me do ▸ writing this genre for the 1st time! characters, image or divider used aren't mine. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Do you know what’s the best thing about work?

Every evening it ends early.

Do you know what’s the best thing about home?

Every evening you’re there.

Walking into the barely-lit flat, a soft smile lights up the expanse of Satoru’s face as the quiet sounds of snoring float over from the bedroom. Dumping the bag on the sofa and shrugging off the coat, the man moves silently further into the apartment – weary mind conjuring images of you in an oversized black tee [of his], curled into yourself in the king-sized bed, the cutest little pout on your lips as you babble in your sleep – then pauses, a hand on the doorknob.

Two pairs of blue eyes sparkle at him from the almost-darkness of the room.

Satoru closes the door behind and slumps against it.

Two matching grins aim at his heart from the human blanket over your form.

Sharp. Shrewd. Cruel.

You wrap an arm round each of those two monkeys – the latter back here from their grandparents', two days before schedule.

Ten years ago, were anyone to tell Satoru there would be a day in the future when he would have to fight for you, only to taste defeat, again and again and again, the man would have emptied his glass of champagne on their clothes, then kicked them out of the reception party.

Yet, now... as he trudges closer to the door and extends a hand to brush a few wily wisps of hair away from your forehead – only to have it slapped away harshly by a little palm – he can’t help but wonder what sin he committed in his previous birth, to have received an angel like you as his wife, but two demons like them for his children.

Sachiko, the older of the twins, glares up at her father. “Papa, no!! Mama’s sleeping,” She whisper-yells, eyes darting from him to you than back to him, lips tugged down in a scowl, the likes of which he has only seen in a mirror. On your other side, a mop of white hair nods, albeit not without a tiny yawn – Sachiro’s definitely inherited your sleepiness in a rainy weather.

Satoru lifts an eyebrow in return. “I can see that, you two. Now go, play with your toys or something. I wanna cuddle with my wife.”

“But we too wanna cuddle with Mama,” Sachiko retorts as she slips out from under your arm and sits up on the bed. The tiny ponytail on her white head stays in a complete disarray; your husband watches your daughter tug at it a couple of times, frowning, before she gives up, returning her glower to him as she continues, “So, you can’t cuddle with her. Mama is ours now.”

Your son again gives a small “yes” at her words, followed by a yawn – a reaction which Sachiko doesn’t deem to be enough, apparently, given how she throws a glare his way next. “Hey, whose team are you on, dumbo? Mine or Papa’s?”

The answer arrives in an instant, in the most matter-of-factly voice possible from a five-year-old. “Yours, obviously. I don’t want Papa to steal Mama away. She’s ours.”

The smug grin directed his way next makes Satoru want to flick two foreheads pretty hard – but he doesn’t. Any rash or impulsive action can only do him more harm now, driving him further away from his goal.

So, cogs whirring in his brain, he crouches down to his kids’ eye level and smiles.

“What do you think of a compromise, kids? Why don’t you make a deal with me?”

Two pairs of blue clash with the original pair of blue for a while, suspicion in one, suspicious curiosity in the other, while challenge swirls in the last; before a huff breaks the staring contest and your daughter folds her arms across her chest. Exchanging a glance and a nod with her, your son too sits up and announces, “Okay, we’re interested. What’s the deal?”

Your husband lets out an internal whoop of victory.

“Belgian chocolates in exchange for a cuddling session with my wife.”

“Bleh!” Sachiko makes a disgusted face – something which takes him back to his younger days when Suguru and Shoko used to imitate his expressions – and whines, “They are so bitter, yuck! Suggest something better.”

“A doll house for you and a car for Sachiro, if that’s the case.”

The latter is the one to turn down this time. Tone brimmed with disappointment – something he can only ever learn from you – he says, “But you just bought us one last month, Papa! Mama always asks you to save money... why don’t you ever listen to her?”

A knife of guilt lodges itself into his heart and twists. Satoru sighs. “I do... I try to, always, but you two make it so difficult for me to! Why are you like this? Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her? She is as much my wife as much she’s your mom.”

“We know,” The addressed two answer in unison with sage little nods of their head. The girl continues with a grave expression matching her brother’s, “But we can also ask you the same, Papa. She is as much our mom as she’s your wife. Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?”

“Besides, you spent five extra years with her, before we were born. We just want to make up for the time lost,” Sachiro chimes in with a pout. “Tell us, Papa,” The two again speak in a heart-wrenching chorus, “Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?”

“The kids are right, y’know?” A mumble pops the gravity of the situation at hand, and Satoru looks down to find you awake, cracking an amused smile at them. He huffs, rising from the floor and plopping on the bed next to you, arms folded against chest.

“Can’t believe I am so unloved and unwanted in this world. My kids don’t love me. They don’t listen to me. My wife too doesn’t love me. She never supports me. Welp, got to be the unluckiest to be in my shoes right now, I guess.”

Your husband pauses, giving a small break for the words to sink into everyone, before you let out a long exhale and send him a minor twitch of your lips. Sachiko moves to pat his head, the same moment Sachiro reaches over to clasp his small arms around his neck. You too rise and embrace him from behind, placing a small kiss in between his shoulder blades.

“Y’know, it’s not like that,” You say, placing your ear on his back, “Just ’cause the kids love me more doesn’t mean they don’t love you. And it’s not even your fault – my personality is so awesome, everyone can’t help but adore me the moment they see me – isn't that right, babies?”

“Right, Mama,” A pair of wonderstruck voices ring out in reply to your jocular question – you continue in the same note, with another kiss, this time on the nape of his neck.

“And because your awesome Mama’s asking you now, will you two be good babies and let Papa too sleep here with us? Look at him: he’s so tired and sad. You don’t want your dearest Papa to be sad and tired, right? You will let him cuddle with us, won't you?”

Satoru watches the twins look at each other for a second, then the younger acquiesce, “Papa can cuddle with us. That’s okay, maybe.” The two then proceed to shoot a particularly sharp look at him; one he responds to with a cheeky smirk, which disappears into a soft smile when he feels you manoeuvre his face towards yourself, a light grasp on his chin.

“See, the kids agreed. Now, are you feeling loved and wanted?”

“Infinitely more,” He replies with a peck on your lips – however, before he can deepen the kiss a tad more, you bring him into a sleeping posture beside you, the kids immediately piling on top of the two of you. You offer him something between a cute pout and a sorry smile, which earns a wink from your husband.

Turning to one side, Satoru drags you, Sachiko lying on top of you and Sachiro lying in between him and you, into himself, letting him be lulled to sleep by the melody of your laughs and your kids’ half-hearted harrumphs.

Do you know what’s the best thing about life?

Every tiniest bit of it he gets to spend beside you, the light of his life, and the two imps, your and his love brought into this world – even if he knows he’s going to get kicked out of bed the very microsecond you fall asleep again.

▸ masterlist

#dad!gojo x mom!reader #dad!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo fic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

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