#so just know that every one i make is partially for you haha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zeltqz · 1 year

Note

Hey this is my first time requesting , can you make a angst where hanma treats his girlfriend ( reader ) like shit and cheats on her constantly and the reader loves him so much , but one day reader decides to leave without telling shuji and just leaves a note in their shared apartment and when hanma sees it he realises that he treated reader harshly and tries to find her to apologise but reader doesn't care anymore . Make it angsty pls , sorry if it's too long

a long request calls for a long fic haha

enjoy this 8k long ass fic mwahhhhh

feckless | hanma shuji

/ˈfɛkləs/ lacking initiative or strength of character; irresponsible.

pairing. fwb!hanma x fem!reader

featuring. kazutora hanemiya, hinata tachibana, hanma shuji, takemichi hanagaki

word count. 8.5k

content. hurt/comfort, angst, one sided pining, weed mention, smoking, explicit sexual content, toxic relationship with hanma, he ghosts you alot, and you just take it, low self esteem reader

This particular Thursday afternoon, the sun shines blindingly bright, warming your back as you kick a stone in front of you every step you make. It’s not a far walk to your house from the mall; shopping bags in one hand, phone in the other.

As the sun is setting, the streets are partially empty, minus the few cars driving past, and the silence is deafening.

You stop just at the end of the road, seeing traffic building up across the road towards your house. They must be doing more construction.

With a hefty sigh, you turn the other way, walking down a thick alleyway that runs behind your street. This is only a route you take when you’re in desperate needs. Though it’s much faster than the main street, it’s also smellier and darker.

You stop in your tracks and that’s when you see it.

A few grunts, thuds, and the sound of what is definitely a fist punching someone in the stomach. The poor guy, around seventeen, maybe, if his school uniform was anything to go off of, was now laying on the floor, clutching his stomach, groaning in pain as someone much taller, lankier, makes a show of dropping to sit on his back.

He idly smokes a cigarette like he isn’t currently stopping the flow of oxygen and blood of the poor guy beneath him.

“How boring ,” he sighs, lifting the cigarette from his lips to blow a puff of smoke into the air. “Thought you’d be able to entertain me with all that shit you was talkin’.”

“I—argh—I can’t breathe—”

“Hmmm,” the guy hums and the sound vibrates through the alley, rippling it’s way through your body. “And what do you expect me to do ‘bout that?”

The boy couldn’t verbally respond, nor formulate a perfect sentence, only able to respond in grunts and groans and the sound of his lungs desperately searching for air.

If you don’t step in, you’d have to live with yourself forever, knowing you just witnessed this man commit a murder and nothing was done about it.

It takes a moment to uncurl your fingers from the shopping bag, your body trembling, feet heavy as your lungs match the jagged, unsteady rhythm of your breathing before you’re walking over towards the man.

Stopping right next to him, it feels like forever until he lazily turns his head to look up at you.

His eyebrow arches, face filled with nothing but interest as he lets his eyes rake down your body.

It’s like he knows he’s making you uncomfortable, because the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a smile when you shift uneasily on your feet.

“And you are?” His voice is slack and lazy, dragging his words on sluggishly as he blinks at you.

It feels like minutes, hours, days have passed with how long it takes your brain to co-operate with you. “I—I’m—”

The poor dude on the floor tries to lift the guy off his back, gathering every inch of strength he has left in his weak body to try shrug him off, but the sadist on top of him only raises his hand (and it is huge, what the fuc—), and slams it down on his head, applying pressure until his chin smacks painfully against the floor.

“Can’t you see the young lady is tryna speak?” He asks him before letting go of his head, removing his cigarette from his lips, holds them with two fingers and you watch as he brings the cigarette in front of his eyes. The orange lit bud at the end sends flickers of ash into the air. “Do your eyes me to burn some energy into ‘em? Huh?”

Your stomach churns distressingly at the mental image painted into your brain. Everything moves in slow motion, he’s moving the cigarette downwards to the man’s eyes before you step in. “Leave him alone! Th—this isn’t funny!”

“It’s not?” He shrugs his shoulders. “It seems pretty fun t’me.” His body twists round to face you, still sitting heavily atop of the man, and it’s surprising how he hasn’t lost his breath yet. “You’re not havin’ fun?”

“No.” Your response comes quickly, more stern that you initially planned, and his eyes widen marginally. “This is sick what you’re doing. Just—let him go.”

He raises his brow again, confused at who you think you are to order him around. Then he notices you aren’t as confident as you make yourself out to be; your hands tremble against the bag you were holding.

Sighing heavily, he stands up and the poor boy lets out the biggest exhale of his life. You’re about to rush over to him and ask if he’s okay but your feet remain planted in place as he walks over to you.

He’s so tall, looming above you that the lump in your throat hardens, making it harder to swallow, and even more harder to speak. You would’ve ran away by now if it wasn’t for the pitiful fact that your feet were heavy, sinking deeper into the ground by the second.

“I let him go free. See?” He looks over his shoulder at the boy who’s struggling to run away with the limited oxygen supply in his lungs. Eventually, he manages to scramble his way out from the alley, leaving the two of you alone. “So, what’re you gunna gimme in exchange?”

“I…do you want money? Because I spent all of it.” His eyes drop downwards to your bag, and you only clutch it harder once you see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“Lemme see.”

“No. It’s mine—hey !” He snatches the bag from what you thought was your tight grip with so much ease it makes you question your strength, and begins rummaging through it.

Your cheeks burn hot as he digs through the bag. Of course the day you had decided to go underwear and bra shopping was the day you get potentially robbed by a hoodlum.

“Oooh,” he hums with glee, his voice doing wonders to stress you out even more. Between his fingertips, he pulls out a lacy bra, wiggling it in his grasp. “Someone’s naughty.”

“Give it back!” You try to reach for it, but unfortunately for you, he has quicker reflexes—insanely long arms that stretch over his head, and yours.

It’s almost sickening how amused he is by this situation, watching you jump upwards like a rabbit, desperately trying to get your bra back. Something warm buzzes through his chest, makes him far too interested in seeing how far he can push you before you tip over the edge.

“I like you a lot.” His hand descends and you take this moment to snatch it back quickly, stuffing it inside your bag with a pout.

“Well, I don’t like you,” you spit back, glaring at him as hard as you can because who (???) does he think he is.

“You’re going to.” He leans forward until you’re stepping backwards to avoid him.

His hand darts out, grabs the back of your head and before you know it, his lips are on yours, sucking obscenly at your bottom lip till you feel it swelling. He’s kissing you quick and fast, and you barely have time to react, not when his tongue shoves itself deep into your mouth, swirling around yours. He tastes like cigarettes, and the faint smell of tobacco nudges itself into your mouth as he all but sucks the saliva from your tongue with his needy mouth.

Your hands rise to push him off but he’s pulling away before you can.

He smiles down at you, wolfish, and evil, yet boyishly charming, with spit soaked lips.

Hanma Shuji—he introduces himself as— ends up following you home despite your recurring complaints, telling him to fuck off and die. He only reponds with a giggle that grates your eardrums everytime the high pitched sound leaves his lips. It’s a miracle you live alone, because your parents would most definitely disown you for bringing someone like him into their house.

“What an adorable home,” he says into your apartment as he steps inside the tiny space.

“Yeah…ok.” You tug your shoes off and leave the door open behind you. “Can you go now?”

He shakes his head with a tut, handing rising to point at the bag on your side. “Not till you gimme a lil’ fashion show.”

“I—” You purse your lips and look down at the bag. The lacy lingerie you bought earlier practically taunts you, making you regret ever leaving your house this morning to go buy it. “Absolutely not! I don’t even know you.”

His face goes blank and he stares at you, unbothered, like he didn’t just ask you for such an outrageous request. “And?”

“And?” You scoff in disbelief at the fact you even have to explain such a simple concept to him. “And, I’m not going to show a stranger my—”

He sighs, long and heavy, and you instantly shut up at the sound. There’s a disappointed look on his face. “And here I thought you were interestin’.”

“Wha—” Your complaint dies in your throat, and you blink dumbly up at the man in front of you. “Y—you thought I was interesting?”

No one’s ever called you interesting before.

He shrugs his shoulders, arms folding across his chest. “No one else woulda had the guts to stop me earlier so yeah , thought you was really interestin’ and different.” His low sigh is filled with nothing but disappointment and you can’t help the hollow feeling in your chest as it slowly eats away at you. “Turns out you’re another borin’ prude like everybody else.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a truck, and you frown slightly, knowing this is how he perceives you. A boring prude.

Being someone with not a lot of friends, being called boring isn’t something new to you, having heard it almost all your life, you’re practically immune to being affected by it. But being called boring by someone like him seems to hurt more than any other time. Maybe it’s because for a second, he was the only person you met that actually thought you weren’t boring, that you were different than everybody else, that you had enough guts to stand up to him despite trembling the entire time.

Holding onto that thought, you bite your lip and glance back down to your bag, then sigh. “Follow me.”

You kick the door closed and begin to walk to your bedroom. Though you can’t see the feral smile on his face, you can most definitely feel it, as well as the feeling of his eyes shamelessly raking itself down the length of your body from behind as you lead him further into your apartment.

Pushing him onto the bed, you order him to stay there. “I’m going to change.”

He lays flat on the bed, lounging on it like it’s his own, not even bothering to remove his shoes. You stare at him blankly for a couple seconds when he says, “Go on then.”

Rolling your eyes, you head over to your bathroom and change.

It feels weird, changing for a man you haven’t known for longer than an hour at best, you think as you begin to strip your clothes off. Wearing something this explicit in front of somebody else takes months—maybe even years—of trust and you’re throwing all that away just because he called you interesting. Not even pretty. Interesting.

So far, Hanma’s managed to light a cigarette and is currently smoking it as you step out of the bathroom, standing awkwardly and scratching your arm lightly as you wait for him to say something.

His eyes blink their way down your body, mind and thoughts going wild as his tongue darts out to lick at his lips. “C’mere.”

You take a couple steps forward till you’re beside your bed, toes doing a jittery dance on the soft, fuzzy rug the longer you watch him watch you. His hand moves quickly, tugging you forward onto the bed.

It’s barely enough time to react, but you stop yourself before you face plant onto the bed. Manhandling you on top of him, his big, warm hands grip onto your hips. A thick cloud of smoke blows into your face, and you cough, swatting at the air. He’s shamelessly dragging his eyes down your neck, pressing light touches to the curve of your breast and softly kneads the cup of the bra into his hand.

Unable to hold back (as much as you try fight it), soft moans leave your mouth, and you have no other choice but to bite your lip to conceal it.

“Little Miss Perfect, hm?” He grins from ear to ear as your face flushes from his touches.

“I’m—um. I’m not perfect.”

“Yes you are.” He’s adjusting you on his lap, and you gasp when he grinds your hips down his erection. The feel of it digs into the curve of your thighs. “Hiding all this from me, huh?”

He’s gesturing to your half naked body, and you frown. “I wasn’t hiding anything—” It’s hard to concentrate on your words when he's running his hands along your body, lower back, then grips firmly onto your ass. “It’s called wearing clothes—”

He kisses your smart mouth before you could finish talking, all rough and eager with his tongue sweeping into your mouth with fervour. His hand rests behind your head, steadily holding you there as he invades your mouth. Mindlessly, your hands reach up to hold the sides of his face, moaning ever so quietly into his mouth. He’s grabbing you by the hair and pulls you backwards before forcing your head up to stare at the ceiling so he can bend down to suck down the column of your throat.

It’s a ticklish feeling, his warm lips against your skin, sucking and biting his way down your body.

“Mmm, flip over f’me.” He watches you shuffle off his lap onto his bed, resting your head against your pillows as you lay on your back.

Picking up the cigarette he dropped on your bedside table, he fits it between his lips once more as he shifts his way between your legs. The sight beneath him makes him groan and digs his palms into the fat of your thighs as he spreads your legs.

“Remove your bra.”

More smoke fills the air as you sit up to tug the straps of your bra down and off your body, throwing the lacy fabric onto the end of the bed. Seeing your bare tits makes him groan, instatnly reaching out to grab and squeeze painfully at them.

Your face scrunches up as he fondles them, and takes another drag from his cigarette. “You a virgin?”

“No.”

“Hm.” He blows the smoke out and continues to knead your breast, brushing his thumbs past your nipple. “You single?”

Your lip quivers as the ticklish feeling of his thumb rolling your nipple around fills your veins. “Y—yes.”

He nods, blowing another stream of smoke towards you, flicking his thumb across your hardening nub. He watches you, eyes roaming down the rest of your body, pausing at your panties.

With slow deliberation, he spreads your legs apart, grazing his finger down your slit, barely crossing the barrier of the fabric and your folds. Your breath catches at the touch, letting out a stifled moan as he glides two fingers inside you, slowly stretching you open.

At your quick gasp, his eyes glance back up at yours, studying your expression intently, listening for any sounds that might betray the pleasure he brings you.

You lift yourself off the bed, positioning yourself closer to him and he leans down for a deeper kiss. Your legs wrap around his hips, feeling how large he really is compared to what you’ve been used to.

He lays you back flat on your back, he spreads your legs wider and you press your palm against the mattress to steady yourself. Gripping onto your hip, he grinds his cock into your inner thigh, slick against your own dampness.

“Fuck,” he pants heavily, capturing your mouth again, scraping his teeth agaisnt your lower lip.

Nibbling on his tongue, you reach downwards to his crotch, sticking your hand down his pants and twist your hand against his shaft, twirling the sensitive head around.

His body tenses under your touch. “Are you on birth control?” He asks without looking at you, eyes only on your hands moving inside his pants.

“Yes.”

He clicks his tongue, looking fairly irritated and bored. “Boring.”

A sudden wave of panic flows through you, and you quickly refute your statement. “I mean, yes but I haven’t taken it in a while. Is that…okay?”

He doesn’t seem interested in answering your question. Instead, his breathing grows heavier and heavier as his hips grind into your touch. Grunts occasionally leave his mouth as his muscles tighten as you begin jerking him faster.

Turning your head slightly, you latch onto his collarbone and neck, pressing light kisses into the skin, hot and bothered at the fact he’s this worked up already.

“Just fucking do it,” he whispers harshly, referring to the hickies you so desperately want to leave on his skin. His fingers tese gently at your clit, giving you the thrill you need to suck hard on his neck.

Swallowing dryly, you dig your nails into his shoulder and rub your hand against the thick shaft of his cock faster. Shifting to the side, you bring your forehead to his and run your nose across his sharp jawline. There’s a sharp intake of breath before his grip around your hip relaxes, pulling himself away, he flips positions till you’re straddling him and pulls his cock out to stand tall against your abdomen.

“Holy shit, baby,” he growls as you slip inside and ride him in earnest.

He grips onto your hips and holds onto you roughly as he bounces you along his length, impaling you onto his cock. You feel your body tense up as you reach the edge, pushing against his cock in search of release and squeal into his mouth as your fingers work frantically to stroke your clit.

You scream loudly by his ear, louder than you initially planned to, as you climax. There’s no way you expected someone to make you cum so hard in such a short span of time.

Hanma’s holding onto you so tight you can feel every movement of his hips and cock buried deep inside you, hands gripping your waist firmly to prevent you from sliding off. His tongue latches onto the sensitive underside of your breast, licking hungrily and working up at the intensity of your climax until it takes over completely, overriding all rational thoughts and giving into it’s demanding grasps as his cock continues to thrust inside you.

There’s no real sound left in your lungs as you gulp deeply into his mouth, little gasps of his name escaping your lips as your second orgasm hits its peak.

Hanma’s mouth forms an O against your nipple when you clench around his cock again, running his tongue along your breast and biting at it as you thrash above him, hips stuttering and twitching eractically as your body tries to recover from the overstimulation.

His breathing comes quicker and his heart pounds wilder, filled with nothing but adrenaline, no doubt the cause of the strength of your climax. You tighten your legs around his waist, loving the feeling of hugging his larger body against yours as his cock plunges relentlessly into yours.

When he thrusts deep inside you again, filling your insides with warmth and fullness, you whimper at the wet squelch of his cum splattering against your walls.

You flop forwards onto his chest, a droplet of sweat rolling down the side of your face and panting loudly, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his arms.

“That was good,” he murmurs, and you yelp when he smacks your ass playfully.

The smack vibrates along your flesh, sending goosebumps to cover your entire body.

“Was that ‘boring’ enough for you?” You tease, lifting your face from his neck to stare into his eyes.

He shakes his head, rolling his hips upwards to shut you up once more. His fingers reach downwards, rubbing your slit to coat his fingertips with your juices before bringing it up to his lips, and you watch with wide eyes and parted lips as he sucks the wetness off.

He brushes his lips against yours. “You taste sweet,” he mutters, nipping at your bottom lip.

You shiver, meeting his kisses with your own, pressing into his mouth.

“Mmm,” he sighs into your mouth, flicking your tongue with his before pulling away to grab his half diminished cigarette from your bedside table and takes a drag from it.

He leans backwards and scoops you up, tucking you beneath his arm as you lay on his chest. A bright smile crosses his features as you snuggle into his bigger body, but then disappears, looking troubled. He shakes his head slightly, eyes darting towards the corner where his discarded clothes lay.

The smell of smoke becomes too much for you and you pull yourself from his arms, wandering to your closet to fetch some clothes. You change into your pyjamas then go grab your clothes from earlier from your bathroom floor and hang them back into your closet.

He watches you with amused eyes. “C’mere.”

Bending up to pick up his remaining clothes, you toss them to the end of your bed and flop back into the bed with him. His eyes rake up and down your body appreciatively, intently focused on your nipples through your shirt, as you crawl in front of him.

“Let’s get some food,” he suggests, reaching over to your drawer to grab a takeout pamphlet.

You both decide on Chinese and eat it sitting on the couch, facing the TV. Hanma slides closer to you on the leather after he’s finished his own food, and rests his hands on your thighs, his gaze lingering on your mouth as you’re in the midst of chewing a spring roll.

“I wanna bite those pretty lips again,” he says, pulling the chopsticks away from your hands.

“But I’m hungry,” you frown at the idea of your food getting cold because this motherfucker cannot control his erections.

He leans forward till you’re laying on your back against the couch and grinds his cock against your half spread legs.

“Just a quickie, I promise.” he whispers before letting out a heavy sigh when he rolls his hips just right against your pussy.

You know from the looks of him, and his personality, that he’s not the type of guy to mean his promises, and you tell him so, watching as his grin broadens, stretching wider and wider until it cracks his cheeks, making his handsome features nearly unrecognizable.

He ends up sleeping over that night and you spend the rest of Saturday with Hanma makes it his job to come over to your house every other weekend late at night. He’s finally found someone that entertains him, and you found someone that thinks you’re entertaining. Sure enough, you have more common sense to know the way he treats you is sub par. You know him showing up in the middle of the night to fuck you isn’t fair but you don’t fight back, just allow him to practically use your body as a cum dumpster.

That’s actually his favourite nickname for you, cumdump (you frowned and complained when you saw yourself as that in his contacts). There’s also: babe, baby, princess, but he doesn’t call you that unless he’s trying to kiss and goad his way into sleeping with you when you’re in a bad mood, and it always feels very condescending. Everytime he makes you cry with his words, or actions, he’s wiping your tears then kissing you softly to calm you down. Once you’re back in his arms, he’s fucking you, maybe two , three more times until he’s satisfied with how much cum he’s left inside you.

He’s outside all the time . As much as you hope it’s an exaggeration, it’s not. The only times you see him is when he wants you to see him. He’s gone a whole month without contacting you before, and it left you crying everytime you click back on your messages with him, refreshing every five seconds to see if he’s responded to the many texts you’ve spammed him with.

Just leave him , your brain tells you; Hina tells you. And you’ve tried. Once, you told Shuji if he leaves for a long period of time again, then it’s over.

Of course he didn’t take you seriously, so you blocked him. Then after a few weeks, he started texting you from a burner phone.

I miss u

Can I see u?

Everything inside you crumbled when you saw the messages, and he showed up to your house, high, on a Sunday evening. You can’t remember what he saaid, or what he did, but you found yourself kissing him and pulling him into your house.

The smell of weed was strong as he tore your panties off, devouring your pussy with his lips and fingers before he fucked you, thrusting into you over and over again.

He flips you over onto your stomach, bending you over the armrest, pressing your body down as he fucked his cock into you from behind, grunting and groaning everytime your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Fuck yes, like that!” you yell over and over again, uncaring of the loud volume of your moans and the slap on slap skin ringing through the thin walls of your apartment.

When you came, you hear him holding back noises, eyes shut as he clutches your ass tight, making sure you don’t squirm away as he fills you with as much cum as possible.

That was a week ago, and of course he hasn’t spoken to you since then, nor has he replied to any of your messages.

You wake up to him on a Saturday morning after a drunk night together. His sleeping features are illuminated by the bright sunlight shining through your open windows. Your cheek rests against his shoulder, mouth half-open and his arm is thrown loosely over you.

It feels nice being here, feeling safe and warm in his arms. Even though he left a week ago, he still manages to fill you with joy, arousal and comfort. In fact, it wouldn’t be a lie to say you couldn’t imagine life without him.

You hum absently, yawning as you rub your tired eyes. All those recent incidents have left you feeling all sorts. Everything about him changed, the games he plays and his attitude towards you. How many times have you been used by him and treated like dirt, thrown away like garbage?

You’ll never forget the time he came to your house ready to fuck you with a fresh, red hickey on his neck.

“Who fucking gave you that, Shuji?” You ask suspiciously, removing his wrist to inspect the red mark. “Why do you keep coming here? Are you really interested in me?”

“Does it matter?” He responds with a blank face.

His purple eyes usually sparkled with lust and arrogance, now fuelled with indifference and confusion. For the first time in your life, you felt hollowed out and alone.

“If it didn’t matter, why would I ask?” You retort.

He smiles thinly, tilting his head slightly. His lips part as if to speak, then close again, a slight frown etched onto his brow.

“Are you okay?” You notice and reach up smooth his messy hair back.

“You talk too fuckin’ much,” he answers, ignoring your offended face to lean forward to press his lips against yours.

At first you hesitated, unsure whether or not he was serious, but he pushes harder, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the delicate skin at your temples.

You instinctively wrap your legs around him, opening your mouth to kiss him back. As you lean into him, he groans, slipping his hands down your sides and clutching at your ass. A moan escapes his throat as his tongue darts into your mouth, forcing your body to twist against his, toes curling as he presses into you, grinding his—what seems so—permanement erection into your pelvis.

You try your best to stay awake while staring at the walls of the motel room he paid for to cheer you up. Staring blankly at the small details, the painted lines that slowly become blurred, blending into one another until they all look the same. It almost looks like black smoke unless you blink and make out certain colours.

You close your eyes to fixate on Hanma instead, seeing his tattoos, hearing his soothing voice as he whispers naughty things to you, half asleep.

You sigh deeply, scratching your cheek lightly. “Where the hell is my phone?” You say aloud, wincing at the sudden pain in your thighs from being fucked so hard.

Fumbling around the drawer, you grab the first phone and clutch it close to your chest, inhaling sharply when you unlock it. The lockscreen is different and you instantly realise it’s Hanma’s. The phone has no password because it’s his burner, but something tells you to check his messages and see tons of texts and nude pictures sent from a girl to that number.

Swinging your legs off the bed, you scoot backwards and put on your shoes.

A wave of nausea crashes into your stomach, heart lurching painfully in your chest as you feel a cold sweat begin to form along your forehead. Your limbs shake as you cross the room, grab your stuff and clutch the doorknob of the motel. Your steps falter for a moment, but you steady yourself and push through the doors, onto the pavement.

Once you hit the late night streets, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, stomach relaxing, shaky legs returning back to normal.

You hurry past the car park, crowded with cars all over and walk quickly to the corner. You see a bus stop sign inddicating you should walk the opposite direction. Instead of walking south, you turn north, going whichever direction feels right because you honestly have no clue how to get home. There aren’t many people this late at night, only a few people strolling around and there are none on the buses at this hour.

Scanning the buildings along the streets, you keep your gaze alert, looking for any signs that say Harajuku Station.

Eventually, you give up, and pull out your phone, swiping away from Hanma’s messages and clicking on Hina’s contact.

Hey can we meet? I just really need a friend right now. Can you come get me?

Hina responds almost instantly: :) okay! Send me your location!

Hina will understand why you need help, won’t judge you or question your motivations. She knows it’s personal, and she’s probably been thinking of ways to let you out of your predicament for weeks now.

What’s most important to you is the people you surround yourself with. Hina is your only friend, and you love her, but Shuji managed to come in and steal all common sense from you. It feels empty knowing that the only person you have a connection with is Shuji, that you don’t have anyone to fall back on for support, no one to depend on. Just a couple months ago, you were ecstatic to find someone who wasn’t a bad influence in your life, who actually cared about you. But now? Your life is shattered into pieces, the foundations crumbled, broken and buried underneath piles of rubble.

When you get to Hina’s place, Takemichi is there also, but seeing a crying girl makes him panic and he leaves to give you both space. Not soon after he leaves the house, you burst into tears and tell Hina everything; from how Shuji’s mentally ruined you, his cheating, how you can’t help but go back to him each time because you’re addicted to the way he makes you feel. Hina coos softly, nodding and comforts you with hugs and words of assurance.

She suggests that you leave him, citing what happens to the ones who continue staying with him and ends the conversation with an earnest ‘please’.

“I have someone for you that can treat you better,” she suggests once you’ve calmed down a bit.

“Who?”

“His name is Kazutora. He’s one of Michi’s friends. If you want, I can introduce you to him if you want?”

Afterwards, you tell her you’ll think about it and she gets her boyfriend to drive you back home. You spend the night on the couch, too busy to go to your room and Hina makes you some hot tea to soothe your sore throat.

Everytime you attempt to think of this Kazutora guy, but you find yourself reliving those moments with Hanma again and again. It’s a vicious cycle, one that’s becoming unbearable. Your brain remembers all of them, even those bits where you thought you might die and got laid afterwards. Your hormones churn, taking complete control of your body, heart rate soaring, blood pressure rising and no amount of alcohol or drugs could help alleviate the physical sensations caused by your years.

You spend the next week laying on the couch, curled into a fuzzy blanket, body soaked in fatigue, guilt and sorrow before Hina helps you get your shit together. Introducing yourself to Kazutora was awkward, but eventually you two got closer as the weeks pass by.

Still no contact from Shuji.

After a nice date with Kazutora, he takes you home and plants a kiss on your cheek before heading on his merry way. It’s not until you’re removing your makeup in your bathroom when you hear a knock on the door, drawing your attention.

You shuffle towards the door, peeking through the peephole before freezing, nerves running wild.

What does he want? Did he change his mind? You hope that maybe he’s coming back to apolgoise for being gone for almost a month, hoping to gain your forgiveness even though you should be keeping that door locked.

Your vision narrows to an area directly in front of you, like it’s telescoping inward, slowly reducing your sight until only Hanma is visible.

Heart pounding heavily, pushing blood through your veins faster than you’d like, your body fills with thick tension and anxiety.

There’s another knock on the door when you take too long to open, this time harder and louder.

“Coming,” you call, voice wavering slightly, trying your hardest to sound confident, like all the progress you’ve spent healing weren’t about to crumble the second he steps inside your place.

Shuji enters, carrying himself with ease and confidence. He stands in the doorway, surverying the room. The air in the room instantly changes, the stale air swirling around and leaving behind it a thick cloud of moisture. Hanma’s features soften, taking on a pensive expression as he begins to enter the apartment.

He notices a pair of male sneakers resting in the hallway and his jaw tightens, brow furrowing, and arms folding across his chest as he scans the interor of your room. Your clothes law strewn across the floor, tossed haphazardly around the living room, abandonded before you had a chance to pick them up from your previous night with Kazutora

Tension builds in your stomach once you realise what he’s seen, fear welling up inside you, making it difficult to swallow.

Slowly, he turns around to take in your position, glaring daggers at you through narrowed eyes.

His eyes bore holes through you, and there’s an intense fire burning hot and deep within them. If you squinted, you’d swear that the red flames emanating from them are mocking you.

“Get on the bed.” He commands quietly, and his not-so-harsh tone does nothing but scare you even more.

You mindlessly obey, treading carefully, like the calm before the storm. He snatches your chin and tips your head up to examine your features closely. “Spread your legs.”

You lift your skirt up and pull your panties down, spreading your legs as instructed. Taking a step forward, he stares at you with anger and disdain. “How long has this been goin’ on?” His eyebrows draw together when he sees you fumble with words. “Have you been sleeping with him since the beginning?”

Tears sting at your eyes, lips trembling as you hesitate, strugglign to form a reply.

“Answer me,” he demands loudly, tightening his gips on your chin.

“Just—just the last couple days—” you whisper nervously, biting your bottom lip, taking a quick glance at the bed. “I’m sorry—”

He shoves you down onto the mattress, standing over you with menacing slowness.

“Shut up.” He grows lowly, tanking down your shirt and shoving it roughly to your neck, ignoring the way it rips beneath your skin and throws your bra to the floor.

Your nipples ache painfully from the aggression, yearning to be touched and caressed. All thoughts of apologising forgotten as his grip clenches and pulls, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lungs.

Your squirm under his hold, eyes darting to his face and pleading for him to remove his hands. It seems as if he senses your desperate plea, unclenching his hold just enough for you to breathe. His dark, brooding gaze drops to your naked body and lingers, analyzing you intently.

“Did he ever tell you how much he loves you?” he asks quietly, licking his lips, eyes following the movement of your breasts, rising and falling with each uneven breath you take. “Did he make you feel good?”

Nerves pulse through your body, goosebumps breaking out along your skin. You know what’s happening is wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, yet somehow you still enjoy the feeling.

Tilting your head, you attempt to ignore his questions and press your lips against his nose, kissing it once.

“ Don’t .” He snarls, tightening his hold and pulls you closer to him. “Don’t answer me. Because if I find out he did, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Eyes squeeze shut, mouth pulled into a firm line, you bite your tongue hard and clamp your teeth down on it to keep silent. Your hands fly to cover your face as he slams his cock into you, kissing you hard and forceful. This is the moment you’re not sure you’ll be able to comeback from, if you let him fuck you, you’re unsure you’ll be able to face Kazutora anymore. But the way his tongue pushes its way between your lips, touching the tip to your own and sliding it along the roof of your mouth have your thoughts going hazy and you give in.

His movements are fast, controlled, seductive, and deadly. He knows what he’s doing, and uses the knowledge of your body to his full advantage, never allowing you to relax or remove his stranglehold on your neck.

And then you feel him, everywhere at once. It’s so overwhelming feeling his cock split you open with each painful thrust, sending an electric current surging through your body. The bed shakes with every thrust and he pulls out to flip you over. Your hips writhe rhythmatically, anticipating the moment he slams back into you before you have a better idea.

You change the positions, pushing him down to the bed and straddle him. He looks at you, chest heaving and eyes glazed with lust.

“Touch me,” he whispers huskily, lacing his fingers through yours and gently guiding your hands upwards, pressing them against his torso. “Feel how hard you make me, baby.”

You slide your palms over his smooth, warm skin, muscles twitching with each stroke as you travel downwards. You slip your fingers underneath the hem of his sweatshirt and trail them upwards, carressing and massaging the ridges of his abs. Goosebumps break out on his flesh, skin rippling with every touch you give, becoming slick with perspiration.

“If you see him again,” he pants when you begin to jerk his cock, looking down at him with those eyes that drive him crazy. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him and make you watch.”

You freeze and tears stream down your cheeks, soaking your jawling and dripping off your chin when you realise he’s being serious.

“What do you mean?” you ask weakly, shaking your head, trying to clear it. You wipe the tears away quickly, and hold his stare. “A—are you threatening me?”

You start moving your hands away, and immediately he grabs them again and places them back on his cock, watching in rapt attention as he guides your hands to continue stroking him.

“You fuckin’ heard me,” he says lowly, growing agitated. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare see him.”

His grip on your hand grows tighter and more painful.

“Shu—” you whimper, tugging on his hands to get him to release you. “Let go—”

With a swift push, he flips you over onto your back, catching you effortlessly as you collapse backwards, stunned by his sudden aggressive attitude. Before you have time to react, he’s positioned above you, bent over at the waist, hands digging into your shoulders, exerting downward force.

“Hanma!” you cry out, gripping his shoulders writhing underneath him as he thrusts his cock back inside you. He lifts your hips up and holds you there, arching your back off the bed as you scrabble at the sheets, too overwhelmed with each powerful thrust.

“I hate you,” he growls, smacking his hips against your ass with brute force. “This’ll teach you not to fuck around. You’re—fuck— mine .”

It hurts. So fucking badly. But even after everything, you still love him. It’s painful, and torture, but you find yourself moaning loud and repetitively as he pushes his cock deeper and deeper into you. Every motion sends a new wave of pleasure coursing through your entire body, building up and up until you cannot take it anymore.

In the end, your knees buckle, and he supports your weight, slowing down and withdrawing his erection to cum on your stomach. For the first time since you’ve met him, he didn’t cum inside you. It’s a shock to you as you feel his warm cum on your stomach.

A groan escapes his throat, one that sounds entirely different from the angry groan from earlier. It’s quiet, hesitant, and filled with regret.

You roll onto your side, gaze seeping across his distorted face. For a brief second, he seems to be looking at you, not seeing anything else but you. Then his eyes dart downwards, following the path of your body to your cum stained stomach.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he mutters, kissing the corner of your eye and crawling off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom.

As soon as you hear the water running, you begin making your way into the bathroom with him.

Naked and covered in sweat, you want nothing more than to wash away your stress. It seems as if it was just yesterday that he stormed his way into your life, determined to let you know how little you mattered to him. And now?

Well, you don’t know how to feel anymore. It’s all confusing and disoreientating.

You step into the shower with Hanma and stand behind him.

Out of nowhere, he asks, “Do you love me?”

You hesitate for a moment and look down at your feet on the shower floor. “I do…but I don’t want to.”

The harsh words cut him, but his back straightens slightly. His voice turns firm, decisive. “Tell me the truth.”

Closing your eyes tightly, you sigh, opening them again to stare at him. He stares back, almost earnestly, daring you to admit the truth.

Considering the question carefully, you exhale. “Yes. Of course I do.”

His expression shifts instantly, eyes narrowing as his hand drops to his side with the shower head. A slow nod comes forth, as if convincing himself of something important. The shower suddenly falls silent as the water hits the side of the tub instead, and the both of you share the tense silence. It’s uncomfortable, the sound of the water echoing in the empty space.

“But…” You’re the first to break the silence. “I think we should stop seeing each other, Shu. It’s not healthy, what we have.” He stays silent as you continue to speak. “I feel like you’re using me…to satisfy your needs.”

You look at his back as you wipe a tear from your cheek. “And I stupidly enough grew attached to you. But I want to end it. I—I can’t keep doing this.” Your voice goes quiet at the end and the room is filled with silence again.

The light overhead crackles and fizzles, adding to the already tense environment as the brightness dims. You glance towards the flickering bulb, resting crookedly on the ceiling.

“Okay.” He sighs, turning away. His hand brushes the edge of the shower head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have come here today.”

It’s scary to lose him and you can’t breathe properly. And it’s even more scary to admit that maybe he was right, that it wasn’t fair to come here today. A reminder to you how weak and pathetic you really were.

Hanma stands there, turning to face you, leaning against the wall.

Silent.

Judging.

He waits. Until he feels ready to say what’s bothering him. It’s hard for him to get the words out, but he no longer feels fearful, or ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

His simple words send you flying back into his arms, tears flowing freely as you sob uncontrollably against his neck. He lets you cling to him, bury your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. His arms tighten around you, fingers tracing and scratching lightly along your spine.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he admits softly, lifting his hand to tilt your head back to look at you closer. “I’ve been thinking about things lately, and I realised I need to change my attitude towards you.” He rocks you back and forth in his arms, soothingly. “Even if it means ending our relationship. You deserve better.”

“Hanma,” you cry out softly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You bury your nose back in his shoulder, inhaling deeply.

Fuck, he smells wonderful, like sweat and musky cologne, always so overpowering and strong.

And you realise he still hasn’t told you goodbye.

A part of you wishes you could go on together, sleeping together. It’s not hard to deny you’ve fallen in love with him, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, to the point where you feel hollow without him. When you’ve lost someone that close to you, it leaves you feeling isolated and lonely.

You’ve never felt more alone. Like everything you had build is collapsing beneath you.

But another aprt of you yearns for companionship. A partner that reciprocates the same love you give back. Maturing realises that you’ll never get that with Shuji, and as much as you love him, you know it won’t last forveer.

It would end with you getting hurt. Or worse.

All these thoughts swirl around your mind, clouding your judgement.

“I…can understand why you’d be frustrated with me,” he lets out a dry chuckle, completely humourless. “We’ve grown close in such a short amount of time. It’s fair to cut it off now.” His breath tickles your ear as he presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s obvious we’re not right for each other. We both know it, so why are we still trying?”

Such a good question that you can’t find the answer for. You try to remain calm and collected, fighting the emotions inside you. The light buzz above your head again, casting a strange shadow of your figures over the wall. The water trickles slowly down your skin, creating more goosebumps on your exposed arms and legs.

You wish you could just drown yourself in the vast ocean surrounding you.

Instead, you stay there, in his arms, enjoying the warmth feel of his chest against you, the water stinging your face as the glassy reflection in the shower door remind you of your situation.

Then he says the words you’ve been dreading to hear.

“I’m leaving.”

He speaks it directly into your ear, with a slight edge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

You stay still, body rooted in place, holding onto him for support as he continues, “I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’m not gonna abandon you, so don’t fall off the deep end, alright?”

His hand cups your chin, tilting your head back up to stare into your eyes. A soft smile plays on his lips, water drops falling off the tip of his nose as he looks down at you with a slight light in his eyes.

And in that moment, you decide.

“Hanma,”

He blinks at you and you notice the dark circles under his eyes, due to the lack of sleep and exhaustion.

You lean forward and kiss him passionately, wrapped tight in his arms, heart thumping widely in your chest.

“Say goodbye to me, Shuu,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip as his lips graze your forehead, planting soft kisses across your eyelids and cheeks.

He finally gives in, parting his lips and speaking softly into your ear.

“Goodbye, baby.”

For a split second, you kind of expected him to say ‘I love you’ or perhaps some sort of heartfelt goodbye that’ll make you break down in tears. Instead, he presses a final kiss to your jawline, whispering, “Have fun,” before slipping out of the shower.

You stay in the bathroom as you hear him pack up his stuff and get dressed.

Silence reigns supreme once he’s gone, a weight hanging over your shoulders. The tears fall freely, silently, as your mind races. Should you stay with Shuji and let Kazutora go? Would Kazu forgive you? Could he forgive you?

You blink the tears away and step out of the shower, drying yourself up before dressing up. You attempt to go to the living room to Hanma off when you hear your doorbell ring.

Hanma is finishing dressing up as you walk over to the door, towel in arms to dry your hair.

You open the door and see Kazutora waiting, flowers in hand, staring down at you.

“Hey,” you answer sheepishly, forgetting he told you he’s coming to get you tonight.

Kazutora purses his lips. “Are you ready to go out now? You’re not dressed yet.”

Before you can respond, Hanma slips past the door, clutching his phone in hand. He glances between you and Kazutora and frowns, tempted to say something but stops himself, because he knows you deserve better.

“Yeah, sorry I took so long. Hanma wanted to give me something before I left.”

Kazutora knows you’re both lying, but nods and smiles faintly. The redness in your eyes is telling enough.

Your relationship/friendship with Hanma isn’t just shallow, it’s unhealthy. But then again, Kazutora did tell you that if you plan on becoming something, you shouldn’t be fucking Hanma, nor letting him in your life.

“Alright, then.” Kazutora nods and takes a step backwards to let Shuji pass.

Hanma makes it halfway down the steps of your apartment before Kazutora calls his name. “Thanks, Shuji.”

Hanma shares one more look at you, biting your lip to stop it trembling, and fights the urge to scoop you up from the floor and take you home with him. But he stops himself. “Yeah, whatever.”

#—tr </3 #hanma x reader #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma smut #shuji hanma x reader #hanma shuji x you #tokrev hanma #tr smut #tr x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut

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bangtanintotheroom · 1 year

Text

Model Behavior (M)

Still hooking over Still hooking over and die

• Pairing: Taehyung x Assistant!(F)Reader

• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 3,181

• Summary: Helping with photoshoots brought you stress, excitement and a sense of validation. Today, you experience a new and unexpected emotion, thanks to the man at the center of it all.

• Warnings/themes: the Elle Korea photoshoot 😵‍💫, innocent touching (at first), flirting, eye contact, Tae in the open denim jacket ⚰️, making out, oral (m. receiving), a smidge of soft dom!Tae, Y/N using her teeth 🥴, restraining (with hands), cowgirl, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (a swift talk about BC and STDs is had!)

• Song Inspo: Quick Musical Doodles - Two Feet (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: When I tell y’all I am TIRED of this man wrecking me 🔪🔪🔪 I didn’t expect all of this from the Elle shoot! It got to me so bad that I started writing the beginning of this in the group chat… 🫣 Thank you to @minisugakoobies @sugalaritae @minttangerines for taking the ride to delulu land with me 💕💕💕 And thanks to @luaspersona for the helpful beta! 😚

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @jinsquishes @swweetnightt @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @ssaboala @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

You're an assistant on the set of Elle Korea.

You've always been professional, especially since your position involved sprucing up the model at the time. From damn-near naked to partially covered, the human body never fazed you too much.

Until the day Kim Taehyung stepped into the room.

Your eyes were wandering.

Your responses were delayed.

Every time your fingers brushed against his sun-kissed skin, a spark began and traveled to the pit of your belly. And it didn't help that he had a tendency to look you dead in your eyes whenever you were in front of him.

His dark gaze penetrated you every single time.

But you managed to truck on and the rest of the shoot goes smoothly. Well, aside from the one time you almost missed your cue from the director, thanks to wishing you were the flower sticking out of Taehyung’s waistband.

Just as you were packing your bag, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You thought it was your boss and prayed that they didn't notice your slacking today; you had a cruise to go on next month. Opening your mouth with an apology ready, you spun around, only for it to evaporate.

For it was your distraction standing there.

"Hey. Y/N, right?"

Wait, he actually remembered your name? You were so used to 'the helper' or 'that girl' or 'you there' that the courtesy surprised you.

"Yes...Taehyung, right?"

A smile that lifted his cheeks came over his handsome face.

"That's me. Thank you for your help today, you work quick."

No Y/N, don't shuffle your feet like you're some shy schoolgirl.

Oops. Too late.

"Oh, thanks, but it's kind of what I have to do. If I was slow, I definitely wouldn't be here, haha."

You hoped you didn't sound too self-deprecating there, but it seemed to be okay as Taehyung chuckled.

"You have a point there."

Thinking that he was just coming by to pay his gratitude before moving onto whatever else million-dollar celebrities do, you were caught off-guard when he remained steady. For a few seconds, nothing was said as he continued looking you dead in your eyes.

Fuck, he needed to stop with that. Did he know what kind of power his deep brown orbs had?

"Y/N, listen. I need a bit of a favor before I leave for the day."

You blinked.

"You do? What is it?"

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his tight slacks, making the front of his open denim jacket part further, revealing more of that golden skin you kept eyeing up.

"I really liked these outfits. I wanted to see if you could give me the details on them so I could pass them along to my stylist."

Oh? You could do that. Anything to be around this gorgeous man longer.

"Of course! Just follow me to the fitting area, the bags have all the details."

Taehyung directed a box-like smile at you, nodding. You turned and motioned him to follow you down the hall and past people scurrying by with coffee trays and overflowing binders. Reaching your destination, you walked into the room with him, hearing the door shut behind as you made a beeline for the clothing rack along one of the walls.

You studied the cardstock hanging off of the first garment bag before speaking, "Okay, it looks like the red leather jacket you had was Valentino from the Fall/Winter 2023 collec—"

"Y/N."

You were interrupted by a baritone in close distance to your ear, turning your head to jump at how close Taehyung was standing next to you now.

"Y-Yes?"

His full lips curled into a crooked grin.

"I knew what collection that was from before I even got here."

Huh?

"You did?"

"Mhm."

A hand came up to hold yours, removing it from the paper.

That spark from earlier? Yeah, no, that was nothing, because his long and callused fingers against your smaller and somewhat dry ones lit a damn match inside you. And he only made the fire grow with the way his eyes lidded, looking so close to one of the shots that was taken earlier.

"Just wanted to get you alone."

Oh shit.

The air shifted thanks to his confession. The longer your gazes held, the more you forgot that you were at work.

You definitely shouldn't be alone in a dressing room with a famous idol. You definitely shouldn't be forgetting that anyone could bust in at any moment. You definitely should be reminding yourself about that cruise you still had to pay off. You needed this damn job and—

"Y/N."

A shiver ran through you. Damn, his voice.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you were looking at me the whole time."

Oops.

"I-I'm sorry, Taehyung, I shouldn't have been—"

Whatever else you wanted to say was halted when he pressed one of those appendages to your lips.

"Why are you sorry? You think I made you bring me back here for an apology?"

All you could do was stammer, looking undeniably stupid in front of someone who you deemed untouchable. Realizing you were at a loss for words, Taehyung took the reins and moved his finger before leaning down. You felt his wispy bangs brush against your forehead, eyes still on his smoldering gaze.

"If you're not averse to overtime, I'd like to see what's been running through this pretty head of yours."

Nope. This had to be a dream. Or a setup. Maybe that prick Kwan was trying to get you fired so he could get your position.

But...you didn't want to say no.

Licking your lips, you finally found your voice again.

"I...I don't want to get in trouble."

The idol didn't seem fazed, shoulders shrugging as he laid his hands on your hips.

"What happens in this room, stays in this room."

Ah. Well, that was what you would definitely consider a green light.

So you gave your own answer by grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him in for a heated kiss. The next few moments were a blur.

There were hands roaming. His over your comfortable clothes that were starting to feel restrictive over time. Yours going straight for the warm, bare skin underneath the denim, doing your absolute best to remember every bump and dip. How many people would get to say they got to touch Kim Taehyung like this?

At some point, his back was pressed into the wall next to the rack, lips still ravaging your own. Your fingers went on autopilot for his belt, but as soon as you brushed the expensive leather, Taehyung broke the kiss.

"Hold on."

Uh oh. Did he change his mind?

You tried to stave off the disappointment coming on.

"What's wrong?"

He took your hands and pulled them away, but he never let go.

"I know how well these hands of yours work, baby—"

The smirk he gave you should have been illegal in over seventy countries.

"But I wonder if your mouth is just as talented."

Oh.

He had to have felt the way you trembled in his grasp. He had to.

"I mean...I've never had any complaints before."

Taehyung's eyes squinted at your sudden surge of confidence.

"Then don't be greedy. Sharing is caring."

Barely biting back a grin, you waited until he let you go before sinking down to your knees, coming face to face with a tent in his costly slacks. You began reaching for his belt again, only to feel a light swat to your hands. You gaped up at him in shock, only to quiver at the heat directed on you.

"I didn't say you could use your hands, did I?"

What had you gotten yourself into and how could you do it again?

“No, you didn’t.”

Taehyung’s straight teeth flashed dangerously.

“Don’t keep me waiting, gorgeous.”

While those few words rolled off his tongue, he took the opportunity to shift his hips closer to your face. You couldn’t hold back a swallow.

Hopefully, you wouldn’t make an absolute fool of yourself with what you were about to do.

You anchored your palms on your thighs, gripping lightly before you leaned forward, brushing your lips against the cool metal of his belt buckle. Praying that you wouldn’t get any marks on it, you took a hold of the leather with your teeth. You tried your best not to think of how stupid you might have looked, attempting to undo Taehyung’s belt this way.

But his word was absolute; no hands meant no hands.

Finally, you got somewhere, managing to release it from the metal prong before sliding the buckle away. This gave you access to his slacks now, relieved that this part would be much easier.

It was a good thing you only had lip balm on; any kind of stain on the expensive fabric would surely cause you to be reprimanded by your boss.

Your teeth loosened the button from its hole before going for the zipper tab, the sound of the fasteners undoing themselves like music to your ears. You went for his waistband as soon as you were finished, putting more force into your movement this time. With a sharp jerk, you pulled down enough to see a good portion of his briefs.

Just one layer left.

Taehyung seemed to be losing his patience, jutting his hips forward once again. Shooting him a reassuring look, you made quick work of the thin fabric. You barely had time to avoid his cock springing out and hitting you in the eye, face warming at the humored chuckle he gave.

Wanting to wipe the smirk off his face, your mouth engulfed as much of him as possible before giving a harsh suck.

“Shit—”

Lips curling around his length, you gave it your all, throwing in whatever tricks you were familiar with. Taehyung seemed to appreciate the effort, ebony eyes watching you like a hawk and filth-coated praises leaving his mouth.

“That’s it, baby— This what you wanted to do to me the whole day?”

Hopefully the way you fluttered your lashes got the message across.

“Goodness, I hope you’re not like this with every model you work with.”

Now your eyes narrowed, a hand coming up to swat his thigh on instinct. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize your mistake until Taehyung flew out to grab your wrist.

“What did I say, Y/N?”

Forgetting that your mouth was occupied, you began apologizing, but the idol was quick to stop you with his free hand.

“Give me your other arm.”

Your thighs quivered at the commanding tone covering the baritone now, obliging without a second thought. He wrapped his long fingers around your other wrist, keeping your arms up and next to his legs.

“Go on.”

You did not expect him to just take charge like that; the thought only made your pussy clench hard before you continued sucking him off.

For the most part, Taehyung let you do all the work. But sometimes his hips would come to life, taking a moment to give shallow thrusts into the wet heat of your mouth. The rational part of your brain freaked out whenever some of your spit threatened to leak out onto his pants while the horny part relished in the messiness.

Just before a large glob was about to slip past your lips, you felt him release your wrists and pull back to slide out of your mouth. While you were catching your breath, Taehyung helped you stand before walking you over to the couch on the other side of the room. He took a seat, keeping his legs spread as he tugged you by your hips to stand between them.

“Sorry to rush the fun, but my people are going to be looking for me soon.”

His hands already began working at your pants before the sentence was even finished.

“It’s fine.”

As soon as he opened the closures and yanked both waistbands down to your calves, you helped with getting them off your feet. He pushed his own clothing further down his legs and you straddled his lap, shivering at the sensation of his dick under your drenched core.

“You’re okay with this?”

Taehyung’s question took a second to sink in, but you nodded when it did.

“Yeah. I’m clean and safe.”

The man underneath you reflected the nod, hands sneaking around to cup your bare ass.

“Good. You don’t have to worry about getting anything from me, either.”

Your brows knitted jokingly as you felt Taehyung lift you up a bit.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to have to end up going to the media and letting them know that Kim Taehyung is carrying something.”

He merely chuckled, reaching down to guide himself to your entrance.

“And I don’t want to have to go to your boss and tell them about what went down in this room.”

Your mouth parted as you felt him begin to spread you out, words unable to come out until you were fully seated on his lap.

“T-Touché.”

Pleased with your acceptance, Taehyung took a hold of your hips and began pumping up into you. It was torture to have to hold back some of the louder noises you wanted to make, but you did not want to lose this damn job.

Guess you would have to show your appreciation another way.

Managing to balance yourself upright, you laid your palm on his chest, pushing the jacket aside to give you a better look at his torso. Your fingers roamed over the tanned skin, savoring the muscle and tone lying underneath. You took special interest in his stomach, enjoying the faint outline of abs that would show whenever he thrust up.

“Hey, that tickles.”

Your lips curled at Taehyung’s thick protest, sliding your index finger down to trace around his belly button.

“Sorry.”

He merely shook his head as you showed no signs of stopping your trek, digging his nails into your bottom.

“Sure you are.”

Taehyung made sure to get his revenge by pumping harder, forcing you to clap your free hand over your mouth, preventing a loud moan from escaping. He doesn’t slow down over time, fucking into you with abandon as low grunts left him. The model seemed content with watching you bounce above him for the most part. His dark orbs often switched between your face and where your bodies were connected.

The two of you continued until you felt that unbearable coil twisting in your gut, needing something extra to help it snap. Taking a chance, you removed the hand silencing yourself to grab one of Taehyung’s, sliding it between your hips. With a pleading look down at him, he nodded swiftly.

You were sure you tasted blood with how hard you bit on your lip when he started circling your aching clit.

But it was just what you needed, finding yourself getting to that precipice faster than before.

“T-Taehyung—”

Said man continued his movements, eyes steady on your face.

“Keep going, baby. Gonna make me come too—”

His admittance made your pussy quiver, but the excitement took a halt with a sudden thought you had.

“Wait, where are you gonna come?”

“I’ll pull out, don’t worry.”

Oh hell. If he did that, who knows where the mess would end up. While it would be unpleasant if it landed on your own clothes, any trace of semen on his own garments would cause a fiasco.

“Don’t, just— Stay inside, it’s fine.”

Taehyung gaped up at your words. It seemed like he wasn’t going to fight you though, not saying anything more. He let his hips do the talking for him instead.

With a few more steady thrusts and swipes over your bud, you saw stars behind your lids, arching your back and stifling down a cry in your throat. Your nails dug into the firm chest below, needing some sort of anchor as you rode out the tension. You almost missed the sight of Taehyung following behind you, watching as his face screwed up in bliss as ropes of release coated your walls.

His hips came to a stop after some time, his head flopping to rest on the back of the couch as he caught his breath.

“Fuck, that was good…”

You couldn’t speak quite yet, choosing to reflect the sentiment with an unsteady nod. The two of you took a moment to catch your breaths before you tapped his shoulder.

“We should probably get out of here now.”

“Ah.”

You were careful in pulling off of Taehyung’s dick, making sure nothing dripped out. Thankfully, a tissue box was nearby, allowing you to grab a few sheets to clean yourself up. You handed a couple to him as well.

Once you were done, you picked your pants and underwear off the floor, sliding them back on over trembling legs. Taehyung seemed to finish getting himself together at the same time as you, fastening his belt. He looked up at you with a grateful smile.

“Thanks for that, Y/N.”

You scoffed lightly, your own smile coming to the surface.

“I should be thanking you. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t expect to get the opportunity to fuck an idol.”

The taller man laughed at your quip, wispy bangs moving as he shook his head.

“Cross it off your bucket list. Who knows, we might see each other again in the future.”

Taehyung smirked at how flustered you became now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your swollen lips. He whispered against them, “Hell, I wouldn’t mind it. See ya.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye, heading for the door. Shooting you a wink, he opened it before stepping out and shutting, leaving you all alone in the dressing room now.

Wow.

Did you really just sleep with the Kim Taehyung?

And got away with it?

A short laugh couldn’t help but come out.

Hopefully he was telling the truth when he said that what happened here would stay between the two of you.

Glancing at your watch, you decided to head back to the set to help break everything down. You walked over to the door and placed your hand on the knob.

A sudden realization froze your body and made your gut twist.

The two of you forgot to lock the door.

Motherfucker.

All you could do was sigh and shake your head before leaving; Taehyung better keep his pretty mouth shut.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

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plussizefantasia · 7 months

Text

Cozy Corner

Flufftober Day 5: Book Shop

Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: I loved writing this one. I love Austen and you can absolutely tell haha. I feel like I probably should have said this before but I don't have a beta reader, any mistakes are my own. (if you want to be a beta reader for me let me know) Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

Your favorite part of living in New York was the fact that you could find pretty much any kind of store you could ever think of, and it would only be a short walk and a subway ride away. Take your favorite bookstore, Cozy Corner. The owner was an older woman who had introduced herself as Martha to you within the first few minutes of your first visit. Martha had been a librarian at an elementary school in Brooklyn for 45 years before she decided that she wanted to open her store.

You had stumbled upon this place by accident. You had been looking for a new store to buy books from when you had decided that the huge Barnes and Noble in the city was way too hard for you to navigate. So you went for a walk and decided to see if you could find a small one on your path.

You had, and it turned out to be one of the best things to happen to you since you moved into the city. You could spend hours of your day here, lounging in the plush chairs that sit by Martha’s front window, reading whatever new books she had gotten. She keeps bringing you mugs of coffee, and you're not exactly sure where they come from given that she doesn't sell coffee but you’re grateful for it anyway.

Your favorite way to spend your day had become reading at the store, and the other regular that you have seen come in increasing frequency is just a bonus. At least that is what you tell Martha when she asks you what you think of the handsome man who keeps smiling at you without ever saying anything.

He is nice to look at, you won’t deny that. He’s tall and lithe and has an aura of confidence and power that you can’t seem to forget. Martha tells you he’s a fan of the classics, that he’s bought a copy of every Hemingway that she has in stock and she’s sure that the two of you would get along. You don’t know if she just wants to matchmake or if she genuinely thinks the two of you would get along but you don’t have the heart to tell her that you don’t think it’ll work out.

He’s gorgeous and intimidating and everything you’d want in a man but is too afraid to go for. Luckily you don’t have to muster up the confidence to speak to him, he speaks to you first.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks gesturing to the only other plush chair in the store. It doesn’t exactly match the one that you’re sat in but it doesn’t take away from the ambiance in the room at all.

You’re taken aback by his request but still manage to nod your assent. He’s never stayed this long before. Usually, he just comes in and presses the stacks for an hour or so before making a purchase and smiling at you as he leaves. Today he seems inclined to sit and start his newest purchase right away.

“Loki,” he says and reaches his hand out for you to shake. You do and give him your name in response. You don’t try to continue the conversation beyond that, afraid to interrupt Loki’s reading. He however doesn’t seem to have any qualms with conversation.

“Haven’t you read that before?” He references the semi-battered copy of Pride and Prejudice in your hands. You’re stunned by his observational skills and you admit to yourself, also a little flattered.

“It’s my favorite Austen novel. I read it at least three times a year.” You admit, pulling the book closer to your chest. You move it closer to your heart.

“I’m partial to Persuasion myself but I enjoy all of Austen’s work,” he replies and fully closes and puts down his book. It’s a leatherbound copy of Crime and Punishment, you remember reading it for a college literature class and are excited to be able to talk to him about something else.

You don’t even realize how long the two of you are talking until Martha rounds the corner with a sheepish expression on her face.

“I hate to interrupt you two but it’s time to close.” You take a glance at the clock and are surprised at how late it’s gotten. But what catches your eye is the fact that technically the shop should’ve closed two hours ago.

‘Martha!” you exclaimed “Why on earth did you let us stay for so long?” You quickly stand and go to collect your things grabbing the book on the table in front of you without really looking. Loki moves to the same. Martha tuts at you, “I was going to, but I saw how wonderfully you two were getting along and I didn’t want to stop you.”

Your chest swells with affection for the older woman and you fondly shake your head at her. “Well next time feel free to interrupt, you don't have to stay open just for us.”

‘Next time?” Loki asks and you turn to him.

“Yeah, unless you don’t want to continue our riveting conversation on philosophy in fiction?” You ask teasingly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. You thought the conversation was going well but now you worry that maybe he didn’t think the same.

“I’d be delighted to.” He tells you “But I also believe that it is much past our dear Martha’s bedtime and we should postpone our discussion for at least a few hours.” He smirks and looks towards the woman. She takes the cue and goes to collect the rest of her belongings so that the three of you can leave and she can lock up the store behind you.

With your jacket on, ready to face the slight fall chill that permeates the late-night New York air you step out of the comfort of the store. You turn to Loki and wish him a good night before making your way down the street and towards your apartment.

It isn’t until you get back to your palace and unpack your bag that you realize you’ve grabbed the wrong book. You smile without meaning to, it seems you have another reason to see Loki again soon.

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #fluff #x reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki imagine #loki x plus size reader

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jadedrrose · 10 months

Note

For the 800 followers (congratulations btw!)

Can I get 12 with Law please? Maybe with a straw hat fem reader not wanting to deal with drunken crew having a party on Zou?

“Wanna Sneak Out Of Here?”

Tysm!! I’ll be honest, I got really carried away with this request. I genuinely think this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written lol. So I hope you love it too!! <3

Warnings: I don’t think I used pronouns but it’s still kinda implied it’s fem reader. Totally sfw!

Since your arrival on the giant elephant where the Minks lived, it was nothing but chaos. Now, that was to be expected with your crew, but you really just needed a break after the events of Dressrosa.

And of course, to nobody’s surprise, when Cat Viper had suggested having a banquet, your captain jumped at the chance to have one. You could only hope that nobody would drag you off to dance or get drunk with them, though. That thought replayed in your mind, as you watched the Minks, your crew and Law’s crew all interact. Please nobody bother me… was the wishful thought you kept thinking.

Nami briefly came over to where you sat under a tree, tilting her head to the side with a semi-sour look on her face. “What’s the matter y/n? Normally you like banquets.”

You brought a hand to your forehead, rubbing it as though that could help the headache all the noise was giving you. “I just feel like shit since Dressrosa… sorry,” you explained, giving Nami an apologetic look. She was your best friend, therefore you two always had the most fun together during banquets.

“I swear, those boys,” she scoffed, blaming your exhaustion on them. It was partially true, anyway. “Always getting so rowdy… I’ll tell them to leave you alone. Maybe you should go rest?” Nami suggested.

“Yeah, I think I will. Not now, though.” You agreed, pausing after the latter half of your sentence.

“Why’s that?” Nami asked.

“The banquet started barely an hour ago. Don’t wanna leave too early, haha,” you added a lighthearted laugh so that Nami would know you’re not in too much pain.

“I see. Well, I’ll talk to you later, k?” She smiled down at you.

“Mhm. Bye,” you waved her off as Nami skipped away, going to bother Usopp next.

You continued to sit alone underneath the tree for what felt like hours. But realistically, you guessed that only thirty minutes had passed. You watched as Luffy and Chopper did their usual chopsticks ‘trick’ for all the minks, who were hysterically laughing at the scene. A quiet giggle escaped you, and you shook your head.

“It’s no wonder you’ve got a headache with crewmates like that,” a deep voice came from beside you, startling you. You looked to your left to see Law, whom you’d actually become pretty good friends with since the alliance started. You often wondered if you were the one and only exception to the “alliance does not equal friendship” rule.

“Jeez, you scared me,” you laughed, smiling as the other captain sat down beside you, knees bent upward so that his arms could rest on them.

“Just checking on you,” he hummed, but then you noticed his ears turning red as he quickly looked away from you. “S-since I heard you tell Nami about… y’know.”

You giggled in response, thinking about how cute Law looked like this. He was certainly flustered, but was that because he was just awkward or did he have… other feelings for you?

“Yeah, it’s gotten better though,” you said, in reference to the headache. “But I’m still tired,” you yawned.

“Same here,” Law added, seeming stoic once again.

The two of you continued to sit together underneath the tree, not really making much conversation. It’s not like you needed to, anyway. You’d learned that Law, much like yourself, preferred to be more laid back and quietly watch rather than party. So the two of you spending time together like this was really nice, actually. Every now and then, one of you would say something just to make sure that the other hadn’t fallen asleep. This continued on for another hour or so, before you accidentally started something;

You raised your arms up to stretch as you yawned, repositioning yourself against the tree. However, when you lowered your hands, you accidentally placed your left one directly on top of Law’s tattooed hand.

He quietly gasped, and you quickly snatched your hand away, face turning red. “S-sorry,” you squeaked out, trying to avoid eye contact with the surgeon.

Law’s face was equally as red, though, “no I don’t mi- I mean, uh, don’t worry about it,” he managed to say, stammering and stuttering his words. That was unusual for him.

After that interaction, you both gradually scooted closer and closer to each other, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against Law, the skin of your arms brushing against each other. You hesitantly laid your head onto his shoulder, feeling bold.

He jumped just a little, but didn’t verbally protest or make any movements that indicated he wanted you to stop. You smiled at that. I’m definitely the exception to the alliance rule. Possibly even more… I hope.

Your face once again flushed red as you thought about that. You and Law, together? What would your crew have to say about that?

“Y/n-ya,” he suddenly spoke up, turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah?” You breathed, looking up at him from where you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Wanna sneak out of here?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. A smirk that had your heart beating faster and faster, as you thought about wiping said smirk off his lips. With your lips.

You could only nod, the butterflies in your stomach making your mind race with thoughts about what Law intended on doing once you snuck away.

He stood up first, holding a hand out for you to grab onto. Gently, you placed your hand into his and he pulled you up. A bit too fast, though, as you stumbled forward once on your feet. Directly into his chest.

For a second, you were pressed against his body, head lightly landing underneath his chin. You pulled back, though, biting your lip as you felt your face flush with embarrassment, again.

“Sorry. Seems like I’m being very clumsy tonight,” you giggled, willing yourself to look back at Law.

He still looked down at you with a slight smile, and gosh, was he so charming right now. Your little crush on the Heart Pirate’s captain seemed to be turning into you being in love with him, now.

Law guided you back to one of the many tree-houses, the one he’d been staying in, specifically. There were a couple dimly lit candles illuminating the room, and you looked around as you stepped further inside. He certainly kept his space very neat, which only made you love him more. You were so used to the boys trashing everything and not caring enough to clean up.

He sat down on the bed, patting the spot to his right with his hand. You sat next to him, eyes still wandering around the room as you waited for him to break the silence.

“Y/n, I wanna tell you something,” Law then quietly said. You were a bit taken aback that he hadn’t added the usual “-ya” to your name. He must’ve been serious.

You simply looked at him, waiting for Law to continue with hopeful eyes.

“I know when the alliance started, I said this was strictly a no friendliness thing. But- I. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. “I’ve changed my mind. For you, at least.”

“That’s nice to know,” you said, trying to not look disappointed that he hadn’t confessed his love for you. “I'm glad we can be friends.”

“That’s not all,” he then added, sparking hope within you once again. “I… want to go further than ‘just friends’. Y/n… I, fuck, this is so awkward,” he cursed, placing a hand over his face as though he was disappointed with himself. “I- I love you, okay?”

With the words now out, Law turned his head away, fearing that you’d reject him. But how could you? He was the most handsome man you’d ever met, and was nothing like the rowdy, filthy boys on your crew. Smiling, you placed your hands on each side of his face, turning him to face you.

“I'm glad you feel that way, too,” you whispered, before doing something you’d never thought you’d ever do;

You’d felt his breath on your lips for just a second, and decided you had to do it now before you changed your mind. Leaning your head up and forward, you swiftly connected your lips with Law’s, slowly easing the two of you into the kiss as it seemed you were both inexperienced. It took a couple moments of stiff, awkward kissing before you finally figured out how to fit your lips against his. Feeling weak in the knees despite sitting down, you swooned and deepened the kiss, loving the way his lips felt against your own.

Before you knew it, you were practically shoving your tongues down each other’s throats, your hands still firmly holding onto Law with his arms now wrapped around your body, holding you close to him.

When you finally parted a few inches away to get some air into your lungs, your body flushed with hotness as your mixed saliva strung together between your lips. Was that how heavy your make out had been? It was thrilling, honestly.

You licked your lips and went in for another kiss, but before you could fully connect your mouth with Law’s, the door burst open as your captain rushed inside the room. “Oi! Torao! You need to come down and- hey! Why’s y/n in here?!”

You stared with wide eyes and a reddened face at your captain, realizing you and Law were still holding each other, faces not even an inch apart. “Get out of here! Now!” Law yelled, causing your captain to laugh as he retreated with a “sorry, sorry.”

As the door shut again, you could hear Luffy say one more thing; “Torao can’t come right now! He’s too busy shoving his face into y/n’s. Hey, why are they doing that?”

The last bit of Luffy’s statement sounded quite confused, but you couldn’t hear anybody’s response as their voices faded away, and it was just you and Law again.

“Sorry about that, he doesn’t understand-“

“You don’t need to keep apologizing to me, you know? Though it’s cute to see you get embarrassed,” Law cut you off, kissing you again as he finished speaking. He ran a tattooed hand through your hair as he did so, making your heart skip a few beats.

“Right. Sorry- I mean, um. So, now what? Are we dating?” You asked, a playful smile on your lips.

“Yeah, we’ll just have to see what your captain says about that,” Law answered with a light chuckle. “I don’t think I’ll be able to part from you after all this.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it,” you whispered, looking into his gray eyes. “I wanna be with you, always, Law…”

“Then be with me, always, y/n.”

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d water law #law x g/n reader #law x female reader #law x you #law x y/n #one piece x reader #jadedrrose 800 event

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mdhwrites · 5 months

Note

The Grimwalker as a concept was so weird. Mainly that Hunter was all 'ohhhh no we cant tell them im a spooky Grimwalker!' But... why would anyone care? The only reason given is that hes a reincarnation of a guy nobody even knows or cares about. Theres not even like, a spooky myth about Grimwalkers because its got such a vague ruleset and premise. He's barely different from a demon.

That COULD have linked to the demon discrimination plotline youve talked about, but there is none so it cant be that. Which i understand was partially because Dana wanted the gays to just exist, so she scrapped discrimination in general. But, a big part of forming cultures and identity is 'Otherness'. People compare themselves to others and define themselves by how theyre different. So scrapping discrimination ends up making the witchs and demons feel like nothing. They have nothing to compare their identity and culture against because theres just no conflict to spark comparison.

This lack of substance also means the fans don't care about Grimwalkers. See the moring comic where the Grimwalker was turned into ANOTHER way to say 'haha Boscha so cringe amirite? point and laugh because she has nobody who loves her.' even though the grimwalker is to reincarnate the dead.

OH MY GOD I'M SO HAPPY SOMEONE ELSE NOTICED THAT! *SCREAMS BLOODY MURDER* Like I know Mark just writes Boscha how the entire fandom sees her (which hasn't helped me enjoy A Hint of Blue, not that I think it's good regardless) but seriously what the fuck!? Why do that to her except just to be mean!?

*sighs* What were we talking about? OH RIGHT! Grimmwalkers.

So for why Hunter has anxiety, it actually is because TOH is doing a very basic clone/artificial human storyline with Hunter and those arcs are actually a lot more internally motivated than externally motivated. Clone lives a life believing they're their own person, then one day finds out they're not, perceives themselves as less because of this distinction but then in the end decides that regardless of their origin, they are their own person and so throw off their shackles, embrace who they are and become better for it. It has nothing to do with race and while it is baby's first clone story, I also still like it conceptually because, well, there's a reason why it's the default clone story. It especially is good for kid's media because while the clone can struggle with the anxiety of it, their friends never have to actually be bad or discriminatory against them because the point is loving yourself for who you are and not who you were made to be.

But I've talked before about how this basic framework actually has a Catch 22 built into it when it comes to Hunter... Which apparently Tumblr wants to tell me I've never done before. Thanks search function. The short version is that this template requires not only a rejection of what they were made for but for them to become distinctly different, usually opposite, to their purpose/original. For Hunter, he only knows Belos so this takes shape in trying to be the opposite of him. The problem is that the opposite of Belos... Is Caleb. Who Hunter mimics in every action he takes after getting away from Belos. There's literally no way to follow this template without adding complexities like him accepting his true origin and being okay/happy with that, something that was probably unlikely in general but especially wasn't going to happen with the shortening, which I will actually give people for. Because the Grimmwalker twist happens so late, they either had to cut it or had no time to actually do anything with it which like... Why not cut it? You did nothing with it and it actually made sure you didn't have the time to actually have Hunter reject Belos' morality so that his redemption doesn't come across as self serving and for survival more than an actual, you know, change to his beliefs.

As for how interesting Grimmwalkers are... They're just clones. Boilerplate, boring clones. Make a body based on another person, put memories in, BAM! Got yourself a clone. Doesn't get more classic than that. It's hardly even magical honestly besides the components, especially with how it actually doesn't give them magic despite those components, or have weird quirks since they're not actually made of flesh and blood, elements that the fans have had a lot of fun with that the show never does, though admittedly part of that is due to how late it happens. Then again, all magic in TOH is boring so it's not likely they would have anyways. Also, you know, a lot of shows will do a single clone episode and have more fun and magic to it than TOH does with one of their core cast members being one so *shrug*

Now, for the final part, I do want to also touch on the 'other' aspect because while discrimination is one way to do it, you can get this across in other ways. One such way is the core defining trait of the Grimmwalker from a tangible standpoint: He doesn't have magic. In a society that mostly has magic, him not having it is a big deal. It's literally what gives him and Willow their first connection as a couple, as insulting as that scene actually should be to Hunter.

And then Hunter is 'fixed' when he gains his magic. His 'other' status removed because he's a real boy now. *SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH*

I have so much more I could say about TOH and 'The Other' (made a blog about a lot of it between writing this draft and publish) but I'll leave it at that so it actually stays on topic instead of the half a dozen tangents I've deleted. None of this makes it good by the way and with how TOH tackles most subjects like this, it's incredibly unlikely that more time would have made it better. After all, being a Grimmwalker is only one of like a half dozen TANTALIZING character/arc concepts for Hunter that are never addressed. The fact that he is trained to kill witches and likely has. His relationship with the Isles because he doesn't have inherent magic. The fact that he is filled with such care for the nation and its government that it blocks out all else in his world. How a sheltered child reacts when they suddenly have freedom and are thrust into the wider world. Etc. etc. that are just footnotes to the writers more than anything to actually build a complete arc around or else they wouldn't have just keep adding to the angst bucket without actually resolving any of it.

So of course Grimmwalkers are bland while being a fine to good concept that's then made terrible by narrative implication or neglect. That's EVERYTHING to do with Hunter.

======+++++=====

Sidenote for this one: It is funny that Dana wanted there to be no bigotry in the Isles when her villains entire scheme is through religious persecution. You know, bigotry. Whole other blog I could go into.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #hunter toh #Grimmwalker #The Owl House #owl house #toh

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 29 days

Note

I am back 😈

Hello my beloved wifi, I live

I have to say I adore ADORE the idea of Ajax and Legacy being perfectly in sync but sometimes having difficulty sharing the same body... specifically because they keep sneaking peeks when the other is out and keep wanting to be involved.

You're making a flower crown with Ajax in a picnic? Legacy wants to smell and look at all the pretty flowers, wants to try making one too, out of curiosity. Would his claws ever be able to be that nimble, he wonders?

You're taking Legacy out and going stargazing? Ajax wants to point out the constellations he and his siblings would look for back home, the ones that ease his mind whenever he locates, but legacy keeps looking at you instead of the stars, and he can see why, you look positively radiant smiling like this, but it itches that he can't share everything he knows just to get your eyes to widen in delight.

You're holding hands with Ajax while walking around the harbor? Legacy chitters and whines because he wants to stretch his legs too but it's in public and he can't risk anyone seeing him or causing panic...

You're teaching Legacy how to hold and use chopsticks? H- hey– that's just unfair!! What does he need that for?! (apologies the thought made me giggle lmao)

And god forbid you try to cuddle only one of them while both feel particularly needy. You'll end up switching around every few minutes until both of them get fed up, and you'll settle for that strange amalgamation of the two of them, Ajax's body adorned with Legacy's armor, both of them present at the same time, just out of spite.

And, by the gods, it's never sweeter to kiss the two of them like this

(bonus points for Legacy absolutely ecstatic that, in this half and half form, he can use Ajax's mouth to kiss you breathless like he so often does haha)

oh my moon and stars YES i LOVE the concept of them bickering over control of their shared body to spend time with you!!

listen listen- Foul Legacy shifting Ajax's hand while he's walking with you so his claws are poking out, just barely grazing your skin. you glance down when you feel a light prod, biting your tongue to keep from chuckling when you see Legacy's talons on Ajax's hand; Ajax's cheeks are sunset-red from his Abyssal half's actions, only darkening when you begin playfully poking each freckle on his face to distract him from the odd sensation of having claws on his human hand. the MINUTE you get home Foul Legacy takes over, whining and chirping and stubbornly burying his face into your chest- he's lonely!! you and Ajax spent the whole day together and now Legacy wants attention!! he snuggles with you in his blanket nest for the rest of the evening, and Ajax is very apologetic and embarrassed when he wakes up the next morning, clinging to your form and nestled into several quilts and pillows

archons, Ajax DEFINITELY pouts when he sees Foul Legacy using chopsticks perfectly. how?? how did you teach him?? the Harbinger himself can't seem to master them, yet Legacy can do it even with his talons?? Ajax pleads for you to teach him as well, since he couldn't even get it down when Zhongli showed him- Legacy helps him a bit from his mind, using his own muscle memory to help him hold the chopsticks better, and to Ajax's delight he eventually becomes partially successful in using them! you still see him occasionally just stab his food with them, but it's a good start

Legacy has never been able to properly kiss you due to the structure of his mouth- he substitutes with headbumps and licks, or even pressing his maw against your skin- but never a kiss, until now. he blinks at his new form, an odd mixture of his monstrous self and Ajax's human body. everything feels so soft and squishy beneath the armor, a few garbled sounds slipping from his throat, teeth in the form of little fangs as he curiously pokes his face and realizes with a start that he has a human mouth. Legacy- and you know it's Legacy, from the bright, starry glimmer in his eyes- lets out a few delighted noises, a low, raspy version of Ajax's voice, turning to you and carefully brushing his hands against your cheeks as a silent request for permission. when you nod he leans in and presses his lips to yours, rumbling purrs coming from his chest as Foul Legacy tenderly kisses you, before pulling away, letting out short, delighted chitters and laughs- he's definitely doing that again <33

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #i love love love this concept sooooo much #they bicker with each other about this a lot #that's why legacy comes out at night so much #since ajax had to be himself the whole day due to being in public #and legacy wants ATTENTION and he wants it NOW #short scenario #other's stuff #chit chat #darling mutuals #FAVE #good evening :)

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echoing-gravity · 1 year

Text

Blind Earthshaker Au

I wanna see a series rewrite where everything is the same except Percy is blind but can see better than everyone around him and has Katara's ice bending and toph beifong's Seismic Vibration Senses.

Like his dad is called the earth SHAKER so I don't think he can bend the earth too well but Percy is like feeling and making tiny vibrations/Earthquakes with his feet to see. He's super weak to air based projectiles think arrows. Or like literally anything a wind spirit picks up and throws in his general direction.

(He will tap his foot like an angry rabbit when hes stressed or caught off guard. I'm thinking wind spirits since they don't touch the ground OR have any water inside their bodies)

He can also "see" like where all the water is around him in a certain distance. Like mentally he has a 3d map of where things are. He doesn't like going places where theirs not a lot of water/or gorund. he can like tell when people are nervous by the speed of their blood flow/ the rhythm of their hearts. And is super precise with his ice bending be cuz of it.

Maybe Sally dies early or something and like we've got like 7 year old blind Percy wandering the streets but like since he can see where all the monsters are with his vibration earthy senses he can avoid them really well. Like "oh huh that guy has Hoooves? Nope. Percy outta here. Noo thanks." Since the mist is mostly sight based, and stuff, I feel like Percy would have a HUGE advantage.

In cannon it's shown that Percy is like really clairvoyant, what with all his dreams and stuff. So in my au he knows about the big three pact, and is just bullshiting people into thinking he's related to Khione goddess of snow and ice. And desperately trying not to let into the fact that he's blind.

(Luke/or/annabeth/or/Leo/or/Rachel/or Whoever he ends up being best friends with figures it out eventually be cuz theyve been friends for so long.)

At some point he runs into an 11yr old Luke pre- Luke meeting Thalia&Annabeth. And then we have them having the dynamic of Percy being a manic feral little shit and Luke trying to be responsible and protect him but ends up being the one protected all the time. I think it'd be funny.

Or maybe he runs into 7 year old annabeth and they become badass -cant be beat- besties. Percy snipe murdering every spider in a quarter mile radius, after he finds out annabeth is afraid of them.

I'm more partial to the meets Luke one cuz then when Percy and annabeth go on their first quest we'd get this fucking glorious scene:

Annabeth: no don't look Percy! You'll die!

Unhinged feral blind Percy: hahaha bitch u thought!!! *He says as he uncaps riptide witch was hidden in his hand.*

Medusa: *gurgling noise be cuz there is now a sword in her neck.*

Or in book two:

Circe standing with Percy Infront of enchanted mirror: isn't there Something u wish u could change about ur appearance? Drink this magic smoothie!

Unhinged feral blind Percy: haha bitch YOU THOUGHT.

Circe is now being held at knife point. (Or.. smootie- icicle point?)

Or if a pissed off god flashes their true form.

Hera: how... how are you alive?!

*Percy with his head tilted/angled so it looks like he's looking at them.*

Percy: *sing-songy voice* I know something yoooouuu doooonnntt! :)

Or if he gets hit by cupids arrow.

Cupid: the next person u look at with direct eye contact you will fall helplessly in love with them.

unhinged feral blind Percy: HAHAHA BITCH GUESS WHAT!

I'm sure there's more areas in the books or just Greek mythos in general where being blind is actually an advantage, but I can't think of any off the top of my head.

Or oooor -this is the one that I see being most likely to happen- hear me out: he runs into LEO. Since Hera was using the mist like crazy to hide him, but Percy is unaffected/immune to the most because He. Can't. See. It.

They steal/hijack an RV to live in. That could be cool. Leo has trama based on like burning people, right? Percy in canon Swam in LAVA, boy is fire-fucking-PROOF!! Fire and ice friends!

('oh my gods, they were roommates' perleo shipping intensifies)

Leo probably: you're nickname shall be Snowflake. Becuz ice powers.

Leo mentally: "wow! this person is really pretty, and funny and is like me, AND THEIR FUCKING FIREPROOF?"

Leo mentally: lets get fucking married.

Or maybe Sally doesn't die and Percy's blindness is known. He goes to school and guess who volunteered to help read his paperwork to him. That's right our favorite eco-rights activist: Rachel Elizabeth Dare!

Since Percy is blind he doesn't? Have dyslexia? I'm not entirely sure about how to explain this one. But like he's blind. People read things for him. (so he isnt effected by having dyslexia, becuase someone else is reading things for him.) He'd have good grades. Percy is sooo fucking smart. But like no one remembers cuz annabeth is always putting him down with all that doubt in canon. "Seaweed Brain!" I hate that nickname. Fuck canon annabeth. U don't have to put others down to have confidence in yourself omfg.

someone who isnt me write it. this is a writing prompt go! fanfic writers gooo!

#toph beifong #percy jackson #Blind Percy Jackson #Pjo #luke castellan #waterbending #bloodbending #Earthshaker Percy #Earthshaker powers #Feral Percy Jackson #Unhinged Percy jackson #Bloodbending percy #perleo #rachel elizabeth dare #leo valdez #writing prompt

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pynkhues · 3 months

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Oh you know I need your dream cast for a Succession prequel, Sophie

(x)

Okay okay okay, SO first thing's first, my dream Succession prequel is set against the 80s clusterfuck expansion into parks because every little bit of canon we got about that era just cooks. You've got Logan meeting Frank (and probably Gerri), Logan's whirlwind romance then toxic marriage to Caroline, Logan starting to have the golden trio and reconnecting with Connor and dealing with the aftermath of what happened to, and with, Connor's mother! Plus Ewan may or may not be still involved in the company? (I choose to think he is!)

As a result, a lot of my casting is partially determined by the age the characters would be then, which means I've had to change some actual dream casting (Romola Garai as 40yo Gerri, my beloved), but it's also a pretty fun era to think about so that's fine.

Anyway, let David Tennant as Young(er) Ewan invite you in:

I really love the Snr. Roy's being from Scotland, and their backstory feels so entwined with Scottish WWII history, so I wanted to honour that a bit in the fancasting, but all the same, I think I probably would've cast David Tennant anyway. I think he can sell that simultaneous moral superiority and absolute hypocrisy in a way that Ewan needs, and honestly, I just love the idea of him reading Jesse Armstrong's dialogue, haha.

Was Karl working for Logan in the 80s? I choose to believe yes, because I love him. Jack Lowden's been one of those actors who's popped up in a few things I've watched lately - Fighting with My Family, Small Axe and Slow Horses in particular, and I've been consistently pretty impressed with him? I think he's got a good handle of comedic timing (important for anyone taking up the Karl mantle) but also is a compelling dramatic actor and I think he could kill it opposite...

David Rysdahl as Young Frank! I've always figured Frank would've been a bit younger than Logan, and I love that little glimpse we got in canon of Frank having been brought in to advise on the parks acquisition and then Logan basically making him an offer to stay. There's something extra crunchy there for me if Frank's a little wide-eyed at the time and Logan oozes that charm that we know that he can turn on when he wants to. I like the psychosexual drama, and I also like the idea of Frank having this weird sort of connection to Caroline and Kendall because he met them while he was still impressionable / in the midst of being swept up.

But yes, haha, David Rysdahl I think is a bit of an up-and-comer, which is kinda funny given he's been in a lot of stuff. I've liked him though in the newest season of Fargo, and lowkey think he looks a bit like a young Peter Friedman.

Honestly, I just loved her in Swallow a lot, and she played the smart, unhappy, unhinged, WASP-y wife there to such perfection that I think she'd be ideal for a young Gerri who's still better known as Baird's wife than as counsel. There's such an attitude and vulnerability to Haley too which I think would match J's quite well, plus they have a bit of a similar look too which works for me? I want to see her claw her way in! And I also want to see her toxic relationship with Caroline which leads to her being Shiv's godmother.

Speaking of...

Honestly, I went through a few people for Caroline and she was surprisingly hard to cast. A lot of actresses who felt like they might fit the bill - Michelle Dockery and Claire Foy were two that sprung to mind - didn't really work as I didn't think they could quite balance the acidity with the blunt charm and playfulness that Harriet Walter just does so well (and honestly is a testament to what an actress she is). But then! Jessie Buckley! I've loved Jessie in everything I've seen her in, from Women Talking to The Lost Daughter, but it was actually thinking about her turn in Misbehaviour which made me think of her for this, exactly because of how she can play, well playfulness.

Plus I think she'd be a lot of fun opposite...

I did say I''d go with a Scotsman! Ewan McGregor's been in a few mmm, less good things lately, which makes a turn in a role like Logan Roy could potentially be pretty great. He's always been a remarkable actor, and one who, I think, can find the heart in any role, which is arguably what any actor playing Logan needs. Plus I always tend to think Ewan has chemistry with everyone he acts opposite, and I think he could really sell Logan's naked charisma in this era in a way that would make sense given he's making some pretty questionable choices across the board in the 80s. Plus, y'know, to the point of the post that inspired this one, I think him playing Logan would do a lot of psychic damage to people who could only ever see Logan as perpetrator of abuse and never as product or victim.

#also i lowkey think alan ruck looks a bit like david tennant?#i think it's sort of around the eyes #which makes that casting fun too #i always wonder what ewan's wife / marian's mother must've been like #but yes #making this post has made me want to write this fic again haha </3 #hbo succession #recastings #kinda #welcome to my ama #logan roy #ewan roy

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red-hibiscus · 2 months

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BL characters I relate to most as a mentally ill gay trans man

Daisy from SCOY

Surprising no one, I, a trans person, relate to Daisy. They're outgoing and seemingly don't care about how people view them. They know they're visibly queer and they normally don't mind it (from what I see). But at the end of the day, society does affect them. They're hesitant to believe Touch genuinely cares and is attracted to them despite Touch being an absolute green flag who is very direct with his flirting. Even after, Daisy was worried about people would view their relationship with Touch and tried to become Day, a more masculine version of themself. Impossible of course and they broke down emotionally exhausted. I feel that so much because I also don't believe it when people, especially cis gay men, are attracted to me. I've caught myself trying to change my behavior to be more masculine (as I'm a bit on the nonbinary side of things). It's bad, but I know how Daisy feels.

Wang from 180 Degree Longtitude Passes Through Us

As a 26 year old trans gay immigrant in a country that doesn't want me, I have a shit ton of pent up anger that has been building up since I was a child. I've calmed down over the years, but I can still be stubborn and argumentative when it comes to politics and human rights. I'm also a linguistics major, thus an academic.

Wang is so much like myself and like a lot of people around me. Like me and Wang would be close friends irl I know it. We're young and stubborn. We're angry at the older conservative people around us, too much sometimes. So he lashes out. Many of his points are correct, but they're not hitting. Partially because the people he's talking to don't want to change, partially because he himself is stubborn. People like us yearn to be free, to be ourselves and to learn. Wang has a passion for the humanities like myself. Yet he knows society really only cares about STEM fields. I've compromised and am getting a master's in computational linguistics. Even though really I just wanna learn as much as I can about sociolinguistics.

Karl from Gaya Sa Pelikula

I haven't watched GSP in a hot minute, but I do remember feeling very seen.

So in the show Karl has his gay awakening, tries to internally and externally deny it, and eventually let himself be free to feel everything and be himself (at least in private).

Now I didn't have a gay awakening, but I guess you could say a trans awakening. In middle school I felt different, I suspected maybe some flavor of LGBT, but wasn't sure and I was too afraid to think about it too hard. Come high school I secretly wanted to join the LGBT club, but was afraid. Then I was essentially adopted into the LGBT club and dragged into the friend group during lunch because I was a loner like everyone else. At the time still "identified" as a cishet woman. As time went on people started to suspect. "Why are you in the club?", "why did you cut your hair", "why do you dress like that?", "your voice is low for a girl haha", etc. Much like Karl, I was not ready for any of that. I was still struggling to make sense of it all and come to terms with it myself. So I kept rejecting it and every time it hurt.

I kept rejecting it until I couldn't. Until someone I resonated with so much came out as trans and it clicked. My trans awakening was complete. I became able to be more myself, but only in private safe spaces. I wouldn't come out and live as a man until after high school and it was terrifying.

Adachi from Cherry Magic

I've only watched the jpn ver, but I'm sure that character remains the same.

I'm anxious and used to be quite shy. Now I'm just awkward. I'm really bad at seeing the good in myself cause I feel like I'm wandering around aimlessly in life. Not that impressive. So when people compliment me I think "haha they're just being nice" (refer back to me never believing people are actually attracted to me).

Adachi is the exact same. He has the same routine every day. Just going through the motions and not really thinking anything of himself. But then Kurosawa comes along and the ability to read minds. Adachi then realizes "wait, someone I respect so much actually loves me? And thinks I have a lot of good qualities? Makes me wanna cry." And me too Adachi. I'd be the same.

Jared from 7 Days Before Valentine

Jared, my precious baby, is described throughout the show as kind, but weird and different. We later learn that he has dyslexia, and honestly he seems to be somewhere on the autism spectrum. Even if he isn't, he has a behavioral difference people pick up on and then shun him for it.

I too was seen as kinda weird growing up. Maybe it was the autism, maybe it was the social anxiety. Probably both. And then of course there was the gnawing feeling that I was different than everyone else and it turns out it's because I'm trans.

So when Jared said that people didn't talk to him because he wasn't like other people it hit me so hard.

Myungha from Love For Love's Sake

The whole show is sad yet cathartic for me. Myungha is depressed yet spends his time comforting others. He has a hard time loving and receiving love. If you give him a fictional character who is very similar to him he will love them and see all the good, but he doesn't see it in himself. Relatable as hell.

I have an incredibly hard time being honest with my emotions and letting people love me and express attraction. Mostly in a romantic/sexual context. Dpdr is cockblocking me. So dating is hell, but I'm lonely and yearn to not be.

Probably if you put me in a situation like Myungha I'd also go "yep, that right there is my blorbo" and then not realize that all the things I like about the person and make me care about them are things I have.

Honorable mentions:

Both Akk and Ayan from The Eclipse

Nozue from Old Fashion Cupcake

Oh-Aew from I Told Sunset About You

Cher from A Boss and a Babe (I headcannon him as autistic)

Amber from DNA Says Love You

Uea from Bed Friend

Mitsuomi from Restart After Come Back Home

Jao from SCOY

Maybe I'll make another post for those later

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jitzlemonade · 4 months

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UNNAMED PART 4

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Good news is, I'm not dead and I'm finally back. Sorry for the long hiatus, hehe. Life and procrastination got in the way. Anyway, Mima anon, I really appreciate you and your comments >< It really lets me know what people like about my work. This would have taken much longer if it wasn't for your ask that really motivate me to finally crunch it out. I bloody adore you, as a writer towards their reader. For the other anon, I did include Childe, so hope that partially satisfy your request. As for the second half? Haha, we'll see...

Hope you guys enjoy this, and as always, let me know what you think. Contains: Slight angst, fluff, happy, overcoming past love until whoops Pairing: Zhongli x Reader; Childe x Reader (featured)

Summary:

What was life meant for without Zhongli? Another person that stepped into your life seems to have the answer. ----------------------------------------------------------------

What are you without Zhongli?

The stone pavement feels cold against your back, and you could feel unknown liquid seeping into the fabric of your clothing. You would've been disgusted and immediately gotten up, but for now, you find that you don't care enough to bother getting up.

You gaze at the skies vacantly. It's sunny and bright and so full of life, but even as sunlight falls upon your motionless body splaying on the floor, you felt cold and tired. There's only one thing left to do now, you tell yourself, sleep. Your eyes closed, and you were gone from the conscious world.

It was unknown how long you remained there, but you awoke when you felt your body shaking. You opened your eyes again, blinking a few times to shake off the drowsiness. Ah, the skies were dyed with shades of orange and blue. Sun set, your brain supplemented.

Then, a tuff of reddish-orange hair entered your vision, followed by a grinning face. "You're awake," Judging by the way you can see even the pores on his skin clearly, he was probably squatting while his body hunched over you, and at an uncomfortably close distance.

You remained still, making no movements in response to his sudden appearance. You were startled, but it just happened so suddenly you didn't even have time to react. When you fully comprehended the situation along with the shock, it was already too late to react at all. However, he interpreted your inaction differently, "Hah? You even lost the spirit to live?"

That's one hell of a misunderstanding, you thought to yourself. He seemed to have lost interest, pulling back from your face. You could see more of him now. Ginger-red hair, with a red mask attached on his head. A ruby crystal hangs from his earlobe, which against his fair skin, glints with a shade so similar to blood that you were reminded of a chevalier rose that grows in the midst of winter.

Originally, you didn't want to care, but when you look him in the eyes, it was like something had you in a vice grip. Those ocean blue eyes of him seemed to stir something deep inside you, and before you knew it, you had already gotten up into a sitting position. For some reason, his eyes remind you of Zhongli, for a reason you can't quite determine yet.

You stared at him, and even though he had every chance to break the eye contact, he didn't. He merely looked at you with an amused expression, gazing upon you as he awaits your reaction. The cogs in your brain started rotating, slowly at first, but the longer you stared at him, the faster they turned.

His eyes were ocean blue, the type of blue you see when you're out in the open sea when the clouds obscure the blazing sun just right. It was the same shade of blue that you see when you stared at the skies while you were lying down on the floor. The same shade of blue in which a field of glaze lilies brushes gently against your legs as you run through them, with petals that dances with the wind.

Yes, his eyes were ocean blue. The type of blue that calms and soothes the soul as you embraced it, the type of blue in which you would confide your deepest and darkest secrets in. Yet, it also bears resemblance to the shade of the lost civilization Enkanomiya. A deep, dark blue that's closer to black.

Something else lies within those eyes. A bottomless depth, in which even the strongest light can never reach. Even as the evening sun dyes him in a warm, golden hue, there's a darkness that's ever present even as a smile lightly shows itself on his lips. An abyss that beckons unknowing travelers to explore its depths, unaware it will be their undoing.

His eyes were different from his outspoken and friendly demeanor, they were cold, frigid like frosty hails in the harsh winters of Snezhnaya. You had never been there, but if all the authors that had written about the country were right, the coldness in his eyes would be the personification of Snezhnaya.

However, even then, those eyes of his are breathtaking all the same.

Like Noctilucous Jade in the dark, his eyes shines so brilliantly that one can't help but to reach out, in hopes they'll be the salvation that saves him from the darkness that plagues his eyes.

Suddenly, everything clicked together in place.

Ah, so that's why he reminded you of Zhongli.

While blue and amber couldn't be any more different, his eyes are similar to Zhongli's.

Both tell a tale, a tale of someone who has lived far too long, a tale of someone who has seen too many miseries in a lifetime.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He pulls you onto your feet, and your body effortlessly follows the pull of his arm. A fleeting thought passed your mind, he’s strong. The silk of his gloves feels smooth against your skin. It reminds you of Zhongli, even though the silky texture differs from velvet. Sorrow rears its head within you once more; but for now, you really appreciate the body warmth of another human being.

He drags you to somewhere with a firm grip of his hand on your wrist. You can tell he has a clear destination in mind judging by his decisive steps. Logic and reason tell you to shake his hand off and head home, that you shouldn’t let him bring you to an unknown place, yet like a puppet pulled by its puppeteer, you let him. Perhaps, even if it’s just for today, you wanted to stop thinking so much.

You zoned out, your feet automatically walked in whatever direction you feel him pull. Your brain faintly registered the passing sceneries, enough to tell you’re moving, but still unable to predict where exactly you’re going. You felt the pull stopped, and like it’s a signal, you snapped out of your trance. You paused, scanning your surroundings. Huh, he brought you to Liyue Harbour.

At this time, the sun had already set, leaving nightfall in its leave. The stars glitter in the night sky like countless tiny diamonds, when the only light source bright enough to illuminate your surroundings was the moon. Your ears can pick up the clash of the waves against the rocks and the quiet rocking of boat along with the waves. A familiar scenery, but with someone new and different by your side.

This serene moment was interrupted by an abrupt shout. “Here!” You looked towards the source, only to be greeted by the sight of an object getting larger and larger–– wait a minute, it’s actually coming towards you!!!! To say you panicked was an understatement, any passerby would immediately label your series of actions aimed towards trying to catch the object as some form of demonic possession.

When you do finally catch it, you released a sigh of relief. You were too caught up with the feel of the item against your hand to think of admonishing the culprit that was the cause of your mini-panic attack on the streets. You gave yourself a pat on the back for catching it without breaking it. A boisterous laughter filled the street, when you looked at him, the ginger was holding his stomach due to laughing too hard.

Your eyes narrowed and you could feel your eye twitching in anger. “Glad one of us can laugh at my expense,” you say sarcastically as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, no problem. It was the funniest thing I’ve seen since coming to Liyue.” For dramatic purpose, he even mimicked wiping off a tear from the corner of his eye. Your eye twitched even harder, and you swear you can feel a blood vessel or two in your blood stream burst.

You were speechless, so you examined the object which you painstakingly caught after spending more than half of your sweat and spirit. “A fishing rod?” You questioned, because you did not spend all that effort for a fishing rod. He nodded his head, “Yes, and it’s just so happened to be a full moon, perfect for night fishing!”, his eyes were bright as he pointed to the moon.

You paused, waiting for the anger to fill your body so you can do what needs to be done. Contrary to your expectations, you mysteriously felt a sense of calmness enveloping you. Instead of flaring up, you sat down beside him and copied his actions as he set things up for fishing. When it comes to hooking the worm through the fishhook, you grimaced at the slimy texture against your fingertips.

It didn’t take long before a fish took bite, and it took a lot of effort to reel your line back in. However, all come to naught when all that’s left was a single hook, no bait in sight, and no fish either. You looked towards him, and he was trying his best to not fall over from laughter as he stifled his giggles. You glanced back at your hook, how in teyvat did the fish get the worm and not get caught on the hook when you clearly used the hook to stab the worm?

Honestly, the end result came as no surprise to you. You peered down at your basket, only for it to be empty. There was nary a worm, much less any fishes, as if a supernova had occurred in your basket and vanquished all the fishes into oblivion. The man besides you, had 2 baskets overwhelmed with fishes, to the point some escaped from the basket and was hopping their way back into the sea.

Your eyes met his, and he smirked smugly at you. As an honorable citizen of Liyue, you respond childishness with reason and logic. Just kidding, you retaliated by swatting his arm. All he did was chuckled even more. This mystery man indeed gets on your nerves, but you must admit that if it wasn’t for him, you would have still been lying on the ground in some alleyway, wallowing in self-pity.

“Thank you, weird ginger-haired stranger,” you told him before you stood up. You didn’t leave immediately, instead you glanced at the moon once more, and for this once, you took your time. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you, seemingly contemplating something. Then, he tilts both the buckets towards the sea, releasing all the fish he had caught back to their homes.

“Call me Childe,” he said as he watched the fish swim away from the shoreline until they completely disappear from sight. “Childe,” You tried copying his pronunciation, with zero idea on how do you spell that. You waited, and he didn’t say anything. Okay, since he didn’t correct you, you must have the sound of his name right then. “Thanks for the company, Childe.” You nodded at him and left.

When you reached the doorsteps of your accommodation, you paused. You suddenly remembered something, you didn’t tell him your name… It completely and utterly slipped your mind. No matter, you shrugged. It wasn’t like you’ll see him again anyway.

You were wrong.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

You began running into him at a frequency higher than the time you spent sleeping on your bed, and taking into account that you do in fact sleep every day, this alarmingly high rate is appalling.

Though you do admit you were familiar with the ginger man, to the point that he managed to wrangle your name from your lips regardless of the tight reins you had on yourself.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn't know why Childe had asked you to meet him at the bridge at this god forsaken hour. It's 4 am, and you wondered why you bothered humoring him. Though you can already see a few merchants buzzing about to set up their stalls, you remain insistent that it's too early. You could've been at home and sleeping.

“Hey!” He called your name out loud and his booming voice sounded through the streets, causing everyone to look at the both of you. You sighed, might as get used to it by now.

“Hello to you too, Childe,” you whispered, too tired to deal with him this early. He slaps you on your back, causing you to stumble and almost fall, which naturally lead you to glare at him “Lighten up, we got things to do!”

“Oh yeah,” you muttered before asking, “What exactly do we have to do?” He flashed the brightest grin you had ever seen, “Crab hunting,” You nodded before the words finally sink in, you stared at him as you repeated “..crab..hunting?” His grin did not falter, “Yup, crab hunting,”

You closed your eyes as you wondered what you have gotten yourself into.

You should've left him when you had the chance, you thought, yet here you are leaping towards a crab before it slips past your fingers and burrow itself in the sand.

You gave up, letting your body hit the sand without trying to soften your fall. Luckily, there wasn't any rocks or sharp objects. You sighed, this is why you have a desk job.

Suddenly, your sight turned dim, a shadow was charged over you. Turning your head slightly up, you see Childe bent over at the waist chuckling at you. “You look like a worm,”

You didn't even bother retorting with words, instead cupping a handful of wet sand to throw at his clothes. “Hey!” he laughed in protest, “not fair! I wasn’t ready!”

You quickly got up as he started scooping up wet sand to throw at you, he threatened you “Don't you move!”. In turn, you hollered, “Never! And you suck at aiming!” To finish him off, you stuck your tongue at him.

You had a strong start, but not even 10 minutes later, you were left panting on the ground again. Your clothes were stained all over with mud because while Childe has shitty aim, you have shitty stamina.

Both of you looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. You were terrible to look at, but he didn't get off easy either, the mud even stained his hair and face.

“How many more crabs we need again?” you questioned once you regained your bearings. “4 more,” you looked at him, and he looked at you. Damn it, he wasn't kidding.

Though thankfully, by a stroke of pure, sheer luck, you managed to catch 1 more crab, which makes a grand total of 2 crabs captured by you.

When you looked over to Childe's side, you saw 6 crabs in his basket. You decided you should just be proud of yourself and not boast in any way, shape, or form.

“Why do you want so many crabs anyway?” you looked at Childe as he tied the crabs' pinchers using strings. He grinned, “I'm gonna treat you to a feast,”

“.... with these crabs?” He nodded, “Exactly with these crabs,” All the effort may have been worth it, scratch that, not all, but most of the effort. Seafood was a luxury, and if he's treating you? You are indeed, going to have a feast.

On the way, he kept selling his cooking skills. Giving details how he honed his craft by learning to make 'dishes filled with love' for his family, and how you would definitely find his food delicious.

You didn't even mind when he says he was the one going to cook it. After all, he must be confident if he's offering, right? You paused, could you actually trust his cooking skills? Ultimately you shrugged it off, there's no point in doubting him now.

That was until you saw the dish served in front of you.

You had a million things to say, and none of them are nice, not even remotely. You glanced at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

However, the moment you looked at Childe's puppy eyes, the harsh words that were originally going to come out of your mouth stopped. You pursed your lips, contemplating on how to word it to not hurt his feelings.

“Is this... still alive?” you mutter as you poke at the tentacle at the very top. The fact that it trembled from the poke makes you die slightly inside. Dang, it still has its muscle memory.

You put down the chopsticks next to the dish, suddenly finding your originally ravenous stomach to be extremely quiet now.

“Dont be shy, comrade! Go ahead and dig in,” Even with Childe's cheerful voice ringing beside you, you can't possibly stomach this in any universe.

Where in the world did the octopus' tentacales and the reddish hue of the soup come from? In fact, why did it look like a kraken drowning in its own blood?

You blinked once more, trying to see if you were mistaken. Nope, it's gotten even worse. The Kraken seemed to be screaming now, though you can't hear physically, your soul felt its torment and suffering deeply.

Were you just not getting enough sleep, or did the hot sun cause you to hallucinate? You gazed up at the ceiling, pondering all your life's choices that had lead you to this exact moment.

“...How exactly did you.... make this?” You questioned, because you were extremely sure all you did was spend half of your lifespan trying to catch some crabs, and buying Calla Lilies and mint from a merchant.

How exactly did this abomination come about with such limited choice of ingredients? Perhaps Childe had a hidden talent for making something out of nothing, which is a talent that you desperately pray he should not have at this moment when you’re the guinea pig.

He smiles, though it comes out a little weak and weird in a way you can't quite pinpoint, “This is something I fished out of the sea, along with some products from my homeland on the side,”

Though that weirdness faded as quickly as it came, which makes you dismiss it as your imagination. Or is it really? It was pointless, you won’t breach this subject when you’re not even close to him.

“I assure you, it's delicious! My family are always scrambling for more when I cook,” You closed your eyes, they were probably scrambling for their lives instead.

Nevermind, you lived long enough. Bracing yourself, you took your first bite. You thought you would faint or at least choke from horrible and indescribable flavours, but none of that happen.

“It's... edible,” you muttered in surprise, as your mouth keep chewing. It's actually tasty, you realized. “Not bad, right?” He grinned as he sat down opposite you with his own bowl. “It'll taste even better since you worked for it,”

You stared at him, and ended up with the decision of keeping your mouth shut. The last thing you'll do is admit his cooking is delicious. It was necessary to avoid feeding his already enlarged ego.

Though the moment he held up the chopsticks and failed miserably, you flexed by clicking your chopsticks together multiple times in front of his face. Your Liyue ancestors would have denounced you for your chopsticks etiquette, in this case, the lack of it; but you were too gleeful on this victory over him. Like a crab, you continue to clink the chopsticks.

He put his chopsticks down, complaining, “It's because I'm new to Liyue, I never had any experience with chopsticks. Just give me some time and I'll be adept with them in no time!”

You simply nodded, “Yup, anything you say goes,” Though, you stand up and went to the cupboard immediately after, which cause Childe to look at you with a curious gaze.

Without saying anything, you place a spoon and a fork next to him before you went back to your seat. Specifically, a baby spoon and fork with cartoon images on them. You do have a normal set, but you choose this particular set just to piss him off.

Seeing his dumbfounded face was definitely worth all the effort you've exerted today. This debt is cleared, ginger man, you thought to yourself.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

As you walked along the shoreline of Yaoguang Shoal with Childe, you couldn’t help but reminisce of a past where you shared such walks with a different person. Not one with auburn hair and ocean blue eyes, but rather one with hazel locks and amber eyes. You smiled wistfully at your thoughts, regardless of your wishes, your mind will always recall him, a ghost of your past that you can’t quite get rid of, even when there is another person accompanying you.

“Come here!” Childe’s voice pulled you away from your trip down memory lane. Before you realized, he was distant from you and you chastised yourself for losing track of your surroundings. You hurried, lengthening your strides into a semi-jog before finally catching up to him. He was already sitting, upon your arrival, he patted the spot next to him. Thus, you sat down at where he motioned.

Both of you watched in silence as the sun slowly sets below the horizon, dyeing the skies and seas an orange-gold hue. You can never get tired of watching this, there was always something mythical about this phenomenon that leaves you mesmerized. “You know, back in Snezhnaya, we were too busy trying to keep moving and stay warm that we never really has the chance to stop and really take the time to watch the sun set.”

You watched him as he narrates his homeland in a gentle tone. His features now had a soft touch on them, losing the sharpness of a hunter. The frigid winter in his eyes has melted, revealing the first sprout of spring, with a gaze that contains affection. The golden hue of the sun gave him a warm glow, paints him with a ethereal beauty, highlighting the love he has for his family.

You stared at him, transfixed upon the radiance in his eyes, with a light so strong that it banished the dark and brightens the abyss within. His eyes curved into crescents, his lips formed a gentle smile. Ah, you realized, it wasn’t that no light can ever reach the bottom of the abyss, all it requires was the right person, or people.

All of the sudden, his hands reached out towards you, covering your ears. You wondered what was going through his head, but came up blank when he looks upon you with such soft eyes and smile. Then, you heard it, the longing calls of the ocean singing in your ears. He senses the epiphany in your eyes and grinned.

His hands moved away, and he revealed what was in the palm of his hand. A starconch, you observed. “Take this as a token of our friendship,” he smiled, pulling your hand and eveloping it with his own. You felt the press of the shell against your palm. “Now everytime you hear the ocean or see a starconch, you’ll think of me,” He smirked like he had gotten one over you.

You carefully etched his visage in your memories, soaking in the way he looked at this moment in time. His hair sways in the breeze, following its every motion. His smile that bares all his teeth, jubilant and proud. His countenance framed with the stray rays of sunlight. His ocean blue eyes that encompasses the beauty and divinity of the sea itself.

You weren’t ready to love someone else.

However, you can trust him.

For the first time in a while, you smiled.

Yeah, you can trust him.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

You started at Wangshu Inn situated at the top of the tree before you sighed. The elevator was currently used, and as a certified introvert, you knew you would use the stairs to avoid any chances of a conversation happening, even standing near strangers creeps you out.

You patted your legs, in hoping just like countless times before, they will not fail you now. Another deep breath in, you started your way up the stairs, one at a time. Luckily, you had plenty of time left before your appointment with Childe.

Normally, you wouldn't have come here. After all, it's too far away from Liyue city that coming here was really going out of your way. However, Childe was insistent on getting you to try out their latest dish, claiming it to be a once-in-a-century opportunity.

Halfway up the stairs, you were already panting. Looking at the third elevator to pass you since the start of your journey, you regretted succumbing to your social anxiety. Oh well, no can do. You were already halfway there, might as well finish it.

You sigh once more, actually, since there's no one around to judge you, you will just rest here for a while. Once more, you thank Sevens that you came here 1 hour early. At first, you thought you were too paranoid about being late, but in the end you did need all the extra time.

Speaking about Sevens, the thought of Zhongli once again popped up in your mind. “To think that he was Rex Lapis,” you muttered as you gaze vacantly at the surrounding scenery. You wonder the state he's in now, especially since it's been weeks since you last saw him.

Is he heartbroken over the way you just left? Or did he got over it and was secretly glad that you left him and spared him from the effort of breaking up with you? Maybe you were overestimating your significance to him, and he had already moved on.

You caught yourself thinking about him; on reflex, your hand immediately went to slap your cheek. Right, there's no point thinking about it too much, you told yourself. This is the best scenario for you and him. Although at this rate, you weren't sure if it wasn't just you trying to convince yourself that it was.

When you finally reached the top, you felt the tension melting from your shoulders. Finally, you released a sigh of relief. Surprisingly, you had around a quarter of an hour left before you were supposed to meet with Childe. You thought you were stuck on those staircases much longer from all the suffering and aching you felt.

Stepping in, you noticed that the proprietress seems to have been informed of your arrival. She motioned to a room, stating “Mr. Childe is waiting for you,” You paused, wondering how did she know you were supposed to be meeting with Childe.

Perhaps Childe has just given a very detailed explanation of you so she recognised you at first glance, so you shrugged it off. You smiled at her, your own form of greeting and thanks for her service. She nodded towards you, acknowledging your smile, in a way. Or was she smiling at the customer behing him? You paused, but decided it wasn't worth musing over it.

Thus, you made your way up the stairs to the private room. While you weren't sure what Childe had planned, you were sure your legs will be crying by the time you get home. When you got closer to the door, you realized it wasn't completely closed, instead it was left slightly ajar. You mused, was he implying that you could just come in?

You were about to knock, but then the sight that enters your eyes through the crack of the door froze you in your steps. You could see Childe was facing the door, the red shade of his hair certainly stood out. However, there's someone whose back was facing you.

You could never mistaken him for anyone else. Even if he was thrown into a sea of the masses, you can pin point him out before one could even blink. He was also someone who has been monopolizing your thoughts for years.

His back was hunched, his hand was halfway threaded through his brown locks and rested on his head, he seemed to be deeply gazing upon the cup of wine he had in his other hand. Signs that showed his not very well concealed frustration.

His throat was sore, his deep voice cracking as he iterates his thoughts and emotions, “I want to be there, I want to give them the best, but how could I when they no longer trust me?”

He had always been prim and proper with a posture as straight as a bamboo. He had always held himself with confidence and elegance, coming to him as natural as breathing air. He had almost been the epitome of manners, the prime example of an accomplished and cultured gentleman.

It was the first time you saw tears falling from his eyes. The first time you saw him revealed such weakness. The first time a splotch of stain appeared upon his profile. It was a side to him that you never got to know or understand.

He lets out a shaky breath, his voice trembling, barely steady as he asked “Tartaglia, tell me, what can I do when their gaze is devoid of the love I used to see? What can I do when all I can tell is that they want to leave me?”

All the sudden, you were reminded of bittersweet memories. The chuckles he gives off as he listens to your narrations. The warmth of his hand that calms you as he holds your hand during late night walks. The photos of stunning landscapes as he narrates his adventures. The steady beats of his heart luring you to sleep as you lay upon his chest during slumber. The little trinkets that filled your drawer from all the letters he had sent you.

Everything that he has shown and given you comes crashing all at once. Suddenly, you found yourself tearing up. How could you be so wrapped up in yourself that you disregarded all the times he had told and shown you he loves you in the little things he does?

You had always told him for you, actions mean louder than words. How could you be so selfish that you let your insecurities get the better of you, and render everything you and him had so painstakingly built together into nothing?

“Tartaglia, what did I do wrong?”

A moment of silence before he spoke once more.

“Am I not enough?”

You can't believe it took the love of your life to break down and become a mess for you to finally wake up and realize the truth. All your previous concerns were irrevalant and ridiculous. It didn't matter if he's a god, hell, it didn't matter if you weren't good enough.

All that matters is him, and if he feels you are enough, then who are you to go against his decree?

It was time you seek for his forgiveness, to kneel before him and confess your sins and how he was everything you ever needed and more. That he deserves the glow of the Sun to the tiniest sparkle in the universe, that he deserves so much more than you.

The part of you that's riddled with insecurities thinks, he loves you this much, and maybe, there was an unknown part of you that deserves all this love, that deserves to call him your own.

Your hand pushed against the door a little more, widening the crack just a little more.

Your lips parted slightly, about to call his name.

Then, you watched as Childe pull Zhongli into his embrace. You stood there in the crack of the door as you watched Zhongli didn't struggle away, but proceeded to cry in his arms. Perhaps this is for the best, you thought to yourself as your hand fell back to your side once more.

Someone like Tartaglia would certainly be better for Zhongli than you. It feels like someone had taken a sharp knife and gouge the flesh of your heart piece by piece. You couldn't bear it, so without turning back, you left.

You knew the problem had never been him, but you.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact #angst #reader insert #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #lifewithoutzhongliwascatchingfishchasingcrabsandeatingsusdishthattasteok #lifewithoutzhongliwasalifeworthliving #howeverabrokenheartishardtoescapefrom #fluff

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holewithinahole · 8 months

Text

The Spirit’s in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [2/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta’d

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

And here's part 2! I'll probably post part 3 tomorrow so I can upload everything on Ao3. I realised this work is super underwelming compared to what I've been releasing lately haha But well, if one person like it that's all I'm asking!

I also love write all the different dialogues I have in mind for the Ghostbusters. It's like I can hear the voices of the actors in my head! It's all very amusing.

EDIT: I hate the third part so I'm rewriting it lmao

Fall, 1984

“What are they doing?” You mutter under your breath as you step into the psychology aisle of Columbia University. It’s the most animated you’ve ever witnessed Weaver Hall be.

Clutching your latest research papers, you stride to the paranormal studies labs, almost running into a green-shirted man in the process. You mutter a quick apology without looking back. Inside the lab, a few men are busy getting boxes on trolleys and carrying them out of the room. You clear your throat as you stand close to one of them.

“Excuse me, do you know where Dr. Spengler is?”

The man arches an eyebrow and shrugs. “No idea who that is.”

Putting down a box labeled ‘Electronics’ on his trolley with a loud crashing noise – which makes you wince, he starts making his way out of the room, smacking your flank in the process.

“You do know those items partially belong to the researchers working here,” you argue, clutching your side and standing in front of him. “You can’t just take them without permission.”

“Listen, I’ve been asked to remove this stuff, ok? So move out of the way.”

You swallow back your irritation, ready to conjure up every ounce of antagonism, but you’re halted in your need for confrontation by a giddy tone.

“Ah, Professor.”

You turn back to face an uncharacteristically smirking Dean Yaeger: a self-satisfied smug that would deserve to be wiped right out of his face. It makes you fear the worst.

“I’m sorry to announce to you that Dr. Stanz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler have departed our university,” he declares, voice devoid of any empathy.

“Departed?” you ask. “Did they quit?”

“Oh no,” he laughs. “We’ve terminated their contracts. The psychology pole deserves better than three frauds ridiculing our university.”

It is, indeed, the worst that could happen. Baffled, you watch as the dean gives directions to the workers with a large smile. You’ve never wanted to hit someone more.

“Frauds?” you scoff, trailing behind him. “Dr. Stantz has a doctorate in parapsychology, so does Dr. Venkman. Dr. Spengler graduated from this very university and possesses several diplomas notably in nuclear engineering and psychology. What makes you possibly think they don’t deserve their places here?”

Another worker almost bumps into you. You glare at them.

“While I admire your lovely attempt at defending the undefendable, the decision is taken. This room will be emptied and used by actual scientists.”

The dean has started making his way out of the room, radiating self-satisfaction and throwing prideful looks at everything his eyes come across. You run after him, pushed forward by this revolting sight.

“Those files are their own research! You can’t take them away without consulting with them first! Yes, they were working for this university, but it’s still years of their work that you’re just confiscating.”

The smirk he gives you makes you regret your words instantly. “Since you’re so willing to maintain your questionable relationship with the three of them, you won’t see any problem with being entrusted with those files? I’m sure you can return them in person.”

“Questiona–” you stutter, but Dean Yaeger claps his hands obnoxiously.

“It’s settled then.”

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Accepting to take care of Dr. Venkman, Dr. Stantz, and Dr. Spengler’s stuff had been both your good deed of the month and a middle finger at the face of Dean Yaeger. Stuffing piles of boxes in your tiny car hadn’t been easy. Especially since the dean had decided to dump everything in front of the university, grinning all along, savoring his cruel little prank. It says a lot about the actual interest Columbia University has in the work of its researchers.

There were at least over thirty different boxes, filled to the brim with research papers, littered all around your apartment. Obviously, Yaeger had made sure to take back all equipment – broken or not, leaving you with pounds of paper stored in their cardboard containers.

That is to say, after a month, you're starting to regret it.

The cluster of your home is slowly but surely disrupting your peace of mind. It’s almost as if the air has been saturated by dust and cardboard specks, the lack of luminosity not helping. Browsing through research papers and ordering everything has been fun at first, your curiosity satisfied, but you couldn’t decently keep digging through personal stuff. Therefore, you stopped, and now you loathe the view of these boxes.

The problem is that you have absolutely no idea where the three men went, and even on your deathbed, no one would witness you ask the dean for information. You simply can’t believe they would just switch universities, despite it being the ‘logical’ course of action. Mainly because Yaeger would behave like a goddamn leech and talk shit about them ‘till all universities in the country know about their turbulent history. You hoped for one of them to drop by your department but no one ever showed up.

Opening the door to your apartment and immediately feeling dejected at the view of the stacked boxes, you let out a sigh, getting rid of your work clothes and falling head first on your couch. You grab the TV remote, zapping mindlessly before deciding to let the device run in the background as you stand up to prepare something to eat.

During the small amount of time you’ve spent with the doctors this month, you’ve learned more about spooky theories and proton cages than about their actual life stories. Well, sort of. Dr. Stantz was certainly the most open of them all.

“Have you ever experienced a paranormal experience before?” he had asked, one morning, as he leaned conspiratorially towards you.

“I don’t think so?” you replied.

He had then talked extensively about a plethora of incidents, most notably a sponge migration which he’d assured was clear proof of paranormal activity. You had simply nodded, not wanting to question nor deter his enthusiasm. You quickly noticed – despite Dr. Spengler’s eclectic choices of study which could testify about his interest in science in general, Dr. Stantz remained the most passionate of the two; his obsessions towards specific subjects going further than a simple craving for knowledge on a Sunday afternoon. He kept lending you books on the supernatural which you had to decline after a fifth one joined the pile on your bedside table. It made wonder if the man didn’t own a secret bookshop somewhere. It left you with a sour aftertaste, knowing you had some of his prized possessions in your bedroom but couldn’t return them.

Dr. Venkman was– well… he was something else entirely. If Dr. Stantz was eager to share clever insights, Venkman was eager to share made-up stories. The diplomas on the wall did attest to his title of ‘Doctor’ but he couldn’t be more detached from it. Oh, he was researching psychological phenomena alright, but never knowledge for knowledge’s sake or even out of pure professionalism as you could expect from a researcher. If psychology books were leafed through, it was for manipulation tactics and to weaponize the uses of sugary words. In that, he was talented.

“Is it my time to interview the case subject?”

It was your third time in Weaver Hall. Both Dr. Stantz and Dr. Spengler had looked up from their ‘ghost trap’ schematics as Venkman took place in the chair in front of you.

“You never do interviews,” Dr. Stantz had said, deadpan.

“I feel magnanimous today.”

Venkman was a case study on its own, a study you weren’t willing to commit to. You had trouble understanding his true intentions most of the time. In the end, he remained the most enigmatic of the three, despite a boastful, overly dramatic persona (All the world’s a stage!). In the end, you couldn’t genuinely despise the man when he was driving away nosy students and even nosier teachers with phlegm, or when, during his rare excursions in the lab, he would bring sweet treats and coffee.

As for Dr. Spengler, well… he was brilliant and devoted to his work. Alike Dr. Stantz, although sporadically, he would sometimes get caught in a tirade of explanations and postulates. Every day, you resented the apprehension that staved off your second meeting for he could make your neurons flare and burst into ideas that’d spin in your head fast enough to weave entirely new conceptions. You were somewhat drunk on the feeling, making you distracted which even your colleagues noticed, embarrassingly enough. It all ended up in a self-deprecating mantra that led you away from Weaver Hall and back to the arms of your students and lab partners.

Now, they are gone, and you have no idea how to reach out.

“Are you troubled by strange noises in the middle of the night?”

You know Dr. Spengler has spent his entire life either studying for new degrees or researching. Universities are probably all he has ever known, and that makes you wonder how he’s managing the whole thing. Maybe he was hired by another university; with his degrees, it shouldn’t be too hard, despite what happened. Damn it, you should have given either of them your number. What if he’s already halfway across the country by now?

“Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic?”

What the–

You glide out of your kitchen, spatula in hand, almost falling as your sock-clad feet slide on the wooden floor.

“If you or any of your family ever seen a spook, specter–”

“You’re fucking with me.”

As the three of them stand inside your TV offering ghost-hunting services, it makes you wonder if they didn’t take things a tad too far – or too seriously, this time.

“Call the Ghostbusters! We’re ready to believe you!”

Well, you certainly don’t believe it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phoning the place has been like stepping into another dimension. You’ve been bombarded with words you’ve never heard in any discussion, except in Dr Stantz and Dr Spengler’s endless chatter about compendia and other mystical publications.

“Is your haunting an apparition, poltergeist, phantasm, wraith, banshee, demon, specter, tortured soul, or–”

“Excuse me but–”

“For your information, we do not summon dead family members.”

“I’m not calling for that–”

“Wait, hold, please. No Dr. Venkman I haven’t–”

And that was the end of the conversation. It left you with a strong puzzling sensation and a definitive confirmation of your aversion to discussions happening over the phone. The secretary never called back and you were secretly glad, leaving you time to summon all of your courage and go there directly. Which you did… eventually.

Funny how when you’re not searching for something, it comes to you from every angle. After discovering the strange choice of reconversion the doctors took, you were bombarded by advertisements, radio talks and covers of magazines. The men have managed to put all of New York in their pocket, and half if not as many ghosts in their traps. You’ve never been a firm believer in specters but Dr. Spengler and Dr. Stantz had talked extensively about them and their prototype to finally be able to catch one. You’ve been more interested in the physics aspect of it all; Dr. Spengler has been more than willing to explain and you’ve been more than willing to add your own theories.

You now stand in front of their headquarters, preparing to face them. And once again–

“Hey, it’s you!”

–it’s Dr. Stantz who nudges you in the right direction. The man smiles widely, face darkened by car oil and dirt, a crooked cigarette hanging from his lip. His uniform is equally as dirty, and he looks more like a mechanic than a ghost hunter… but no one has ever been a ghost hunter before so, what do you know?

“Hi, Dr. Stantz.” You smile. “It’s been a while.”

You can see he’s struggling to not pat your shoulder in a welcoming gesture. “Man, we thought we’d never get to see you again! Spengs’ gonna be so happy to see you!”

Somehow, you have trouble imagining Dr. Spengler overjoyed or overexcited. It’s not in his character.

“Come on!” He gestures for you to follow him. You’re barely inside that he has already strode through half the hall. “Sorry for the mess! It’s so hectic these days.”

“I saw the articles,” you say, taking in your surroundings.

At the front desk sits a fashionable lady whom you guess to be the secretary. She’s busy answering the phone, munching at her pencil and looking exhausted. She barely acknowledges your presence as you follow Dr. Stantz up the stairs.

The man never stopped talking. “Venkman is out right now; he wanted to check on one of our clients. The woman had blood dripping from her chimney, can you believe that?”

You clearly have trouble to. The blood part, not the seducing clients part.

Upstairs is as messy as the hall if not worse. It rivals the state of Weaver Hall. Dr. Stantz throws his extinguished cigarette in a nearby bin before grabbing a paper napkin to wipe his oily hands.

“Egon!”

Dr. Spengler appears from behind a desk, light on his forehead, and invested in organizing a large number of electric cables. “Ray, I found the problem with the Aura-Analyzer–”

He pauses when he sees you, which you can’t say that you did, blinded by the light of his lamp. “Hi,” you say, smiling while protecting your eyes.

“Oh,” he answers, turning it off. “Hello.”

The uneasy silence that follows throws you all the way back to your first meeting as if a month of socializing had suddenly vanished in the span of four tiny weeks.

“Do you have issues with a ghost?” he ends up asking, putting down his torch.

Your eyes widen in surprise, unsure of how to react. Dr. Stantz, however, lets out a strong laugh so you chuckle awkwardly to echo him. “No, no ghost.”

“It’s crazy that you came in today,” Dr. Stantz says, throwing away the dirtied napkins. “We have to improve the storage facility and we need to be able to boost the grid while saving as much power–”

As he speaks, he disappears behind a wall, the sound of running water overlapping his words. You stay silent, watching Dr. Spengler rearrange electric cables until his friend emerges from the bathroom, clean-faced.

“But anyway, Spengs can give you the big tour,” he declares, grinning. “I have a check-up to do at Tai Hong Lau! If we’re lucky, I’ll come back with dinner as well.”

This time, he gives you a clap on the shoulder before running to the stairs but turning back at the last minute. “You’re staying to eat with us right? The owner has the best Peking duck in town, I’m sure you’ll love it! See you later!”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with Dr. Spengler. The distance separating you makes the room feels even bigger. You clear your throat. “I see you were able to create your ghost trap after all.”

He nods. “The day we were… dismissed, we managed to have enough readings on our first supernatural encounter to finalize the prototype.”

“Incredible,” you praise before realizing how uncaring you might sound. “I mean, I’m sorry about the whole Dean Yaeger situation.”

Dr. Spengler shrugs, stepping out of the corner of the room he crammed himself in. “There’s nothing you could have done to change the outcome.”

You decide not to comment. There’s a certain tension behind his words that makes you think he might truly have been upset about the situation.

“So, what’s up with the… grid?” you ask, looking at the different types of equipment stacked in the room.

He does sound relieved by the change of subject. “The Containment System is the storage facility we use for paranormal entities. Lately, the growing number of stored entities has put a strain on the main chamber.” As he explains, he searches in a pile of paper, extracting a large sheet. “The simplest course of action would be to enlarge the room but in case of an exponential increase in psychokinetic energy, it wouldn’t be possible to expand indefinitely and I’m not even addressing the energy consumption problem.”

You saunter closer to him. Half of your brain is focused on how easily he slipped back into his rambling habits. Perhaps not all socialization has been lost, you muse delightfully.

“What’s the worst that could happen? An explosion?” you joke, hands on your hips.

There’s a moment of hesitation. You stare at him in disbelief. “Don’t tell me–”

“The system has a high-voltage laser grid.”

You gape at him for a second before clearing your throat. “Uh, you’ll have to tell me more I’m afraid.”

On the table, he puts down what seems to be the blueprint of the storage chamber. You study it from the side.

“PKE bounds together the negatively charged particles composing a ghost. Our two laser grids…“ He ignores your bewildered expression. “…prevent the entities from escaping.”

He continues, “But we’re completely dependent on the city’s power grid.”

“No redundancies?” you ask, starting to see the problem.

He shakes his head. “We had no way to generate our own power supply when we moved in – we still don’t, and we weren’t planning on a strong surge in PKE.” There’s a tremor at the corner of his eye, perhaps from tiredness. “It makes us vulnerable in case of a power outage.”

It all sounds very hazardous. “I’m surprised you still haven’t had Public Services knocking at your door, with you powering high-voltage grids and…” You throw another look at the blueprint. “…a penning trap of this size.”

Dr. Spengler looks up solemnly. “We have been drawing attention.”

That’s one way to put it, you think. “Won’t you also have problems with your… residents in there?”

“It’s complicated to assess the level of ionization inside the chamber,” he explains, lost in his musings. “I do daily samplings to monitor psychokinetic energy but it’s a time-consuming process and as minimum as it is, there’s still a risk of slippage. Stronger entities could attack the grid from the inside, despite the threat of–”

He comes to a sudden stop. “...perhaps I can just show you. If you’re willing to.”

Blinking away the feeling that is suspiciously looking like infatuation, you smile, trying to convey what you hope is a convincing agreement. “Of course.”

Dr. Spengler nods, putting away the scheme of the Containment System as you stare, unable to stop yourself. Funny how history repeats itself, you think, already picturing how you’re going to neglect your work just to hear him talk more. You can’t bring yourself to care the right amount. The concretization of it all – this whole Ghostbusters thing – is exhilarating. It was fascinating when it was mere speculations but now it’s all real. Right here, in an old firehouse in the middle of New York, are new forms of life; new not in age but in terms of discovery. Your work has always been focused on the future, so this is just another step toward it. It’s – funnily enough, all thanks to the past: the dead, the undead and the spiritual.

“Say, Dr. Spengler.” He turns back. “Have you been able to learn more about that psychokinetic energy?”

“Ghost energy can take various forms. I don’t have a clear idea of what it could be yet.” He frowns. “Which makes the improvement of the unit even more complex.”

“If you and Dr. Stantz are ok with the idea,” you say, heart beating faster. “I’d like to study this matter further. Apart from the effect on the valences, there could be laser-nuclei reactions that are worth looking into, as well as interactions between the entities themselves. Perhaps, it’s too soon to theorize about potential ‘ghost particles’ though...”

Dr. Spengler looks pensive for a minute, and you’re afraid he’ll chastity you – gently, but he just walks closer, extending an arm. “I’ll show you the unit, and we can talk about a new schematic.”

The ‘we’ is a heartwarming promise. “Lead the way, Dr. Spengler.”

As you approach the stairs, he has a small smile on his face. “Egon, please.”

You’ll have to tell him about his stuff at your place someday.

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters reader insert #non binary reader

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