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plushish · 2 months

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Resisting Temptation | Adam x Drunk!Reader

summary — In which Adam brings you home after a night out and manages not to be a complete degenerate, despite being tempted to when you start to drunkenly masturbate in front of him.

content — 1,744 words, fem reader, fem pronouns, smut, pre-established friendship (you're like best friends), masturbation, exhibitionism, some pining

a/n — my first story on here! wow!!!!! warning for drunken flirting, i guess slight dubcon? though adam is drunk too. also reader is kinda lute-coded

SMUT AHEAD !

“I had no idea you were such a fuckin’ lightweight,” Adam laughs boisterously, with you sprawled in his bed with eyes you can barely keep open, warmth burning through your every limb. The sensation wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just overwhelming coupled with all the other shit going on with your other senses. At least you were somewhere comfortable instead of on the cold tiles of the club’s bathroom floor, which was where he’d found you after you disappeared for thirty minutes. You’d take the smell of his sweaty sheets over the stained, cold tiles any day.

You were familiar with this space, having come here many times prior to. Whether it was for a house party, a jam session, or just to crash for a bit, you’d been in this very spot on his bed too many times to not be comfortable here.

“I can’t take your shit right now, just shut up for a bit, please.“ You slur out, earning a grumpy mumble from him, something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me to fucking shut up’. You were more concerned about the unbearable temperature in your face and your core, lazily lifting your shirt up your midriff to try and remedy some of it.

“Whoa, feelin’ hot are we? Tryna show me something?”

Your intentions were certainly not to make yourself appealing to the man in the room with you. Adam was just like that. He would get excited over a woman bending over to tie her shoe. It wasn’t that you were suddenly attracted to him– but something about him misinterpreting your action coupled with the way his voice, intoxicated with a sensual undertone and a hint of his sleazy charm, flicked the switch in your brain soaked with alcohol. “Yeah, it’s too hot,” you breathe with a sudden intensity. “Need it off.”

After a night of warm bodies near yours and some appetitive dancing, you had some lasting energy pent up– and whatever sort of restraint that normally keeps you from your deepest impulses is turned off at that moment. You spread your thighs and begin to tug down your bottoms.

Adam’s face heats up slightly, but for once, he stays quiet on his side of the room. Changes into something more comfortable and just watches as you toss your pants and underwear to a miscellaneous pile of his laundry in the corner.

In Adam’s bed, you feel right at home. Though it’s not something either of you have ever brought up or discussed, there is nothing that strikes you as particularly odd about stripping down in front of him to start touching yourself.

“...Cute,” He chuckles softly, sitting in his lounge chair. Getting lost in his own drunken haze, he drops his chin in his hand to watch with half-lidded eyes as you drunkenly spread yourself open.

“ ‘m not cute… I’m sexy,” You playfully correct him, rum on your lips. Though his breath smells of alcohol too, it’s much more prevalent on you, floating in the air around you. Suddenly feeling a little hot himself, he makes his way to his en suite bathroom, where he fills a glass with some water. You were way too far gone. He was too.

Adam makes his way back to your side of the bed. “Sit up, bitch,” he instructs crudely, but you obey. Standing right next to you, he tries not to pay your ministrations any mind, but still listens to the slick sound of it with a flush in his face.

Adam brings the cup to your lips with a little bit of annoyance as you sway from side to side, making him spill some down your chin along the way with a groan, a ‘fuckin’ damnit [Name]’, and an impatient sigh. Despite this, you drink obediently, wrapping your other hand around Adam’s to hold the glass in place, which only makes its contents slosh around more thanks to your disoriented movements.

“Holy fuck, slow down dude,” He complains as you chug wildly, still clumsily going at your own cunt with your other hand.

When he pulls the glass away from your mouth, you inhale sharply and deeply as you catch your breath from your unrestrained drinking.

“Don’t wanna,” you say breathlessly, a rivulet of water dripping down the corner of your lip. He stares, takes in the shine on your moistened lips in the dimly lit room. “Feels too good.”

Your tone is uncharacteristically seductive. He’s never seen you like this before. Adam sets the glass on a nightstand and sits on the bed next to you, your backs both against the headboard, same like how he does when you come over to binge shows and rot in bed with him for hours, sometimes days at a time.

“Really can’t stop?” He asks, a little irritated by the fact you’re bringing it up, making the awkwardness of trying to veer his attention away even more challenging.

“Yeah,” you hum, eyes closed. “Needed this so bad.”

He can’t keep himself from taking a glance– your shirt furled up, showing the expanse of skin there, a hand over your drooling cunt. Inches away from him.

“Hey, [Name],” he says in a serious but equally sultry tone all of a sudden.

“Yeeeaaah?” You sing-song.

“You’re really sexy.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you’re such a little doll. Fuckin’ cute,” He praises uncharacteristically, now stroking your hair with a gentleness you had scarcely ever seen from him before. Definitely the alcohol. He watches the way your lips form a lazy drunken smile, blissed out from your own touching. You watch his droopy eyes stare at you with some sort of intensity that you can’t quite read through your inebriated lens, but in your mind, you equate it with the same douchebag look you’ve seen in most other shitty men when they want sex.

“We have to fuck,” you suddenly blurt out.

His eyes widen into saucers.

Why now?

“Do we?” Adam asks casually, a little flippantly, as if he wasn’t completely stoked on the idea. Grinning slyly as if he hasn’t already suggested that a hundred times before, acting coy as if you hadn’t ignored his sexual advances for as long as he’s known you.

You nod very seriously while hopelessly trying to achieve more stimulation through your disoriented touching, your lower half raising off the mattress for a moment.

“Gonna have to turn that one down, babe,” he replies cooly, and in his mind, he pats himself on the back for actually turning down sex with you. “I’ll keep you in mind for next time though, ‘kay?”

You groan at his arrogance. “You’re unreal,” you spit, “so fucking annoying…” slurring and mumbling to yourself about something incoherent, and he snorts as he hears you ramble on, something under your breath about ‘blue balls’.

He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t achingly hard in his pants, but he won’t take advantage of you. This isn’t how he hoped it would happen, as loath as he is to admit to himself something as emotionally vulnerable as that. Maybe a little selfish.

He was definitely storing mental pictures and notes away for his own personal use later, but for now, he’s fine with just petting your head while you fuck yourself on your fingers.

“You’re just afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle me.” You say suddenly.

God. Fuck. He’s used to this type of behaviour from you, but not within a context like this. This is a real trial. It takes almost everything in him not to verbally challenge you back, so many possible sleazy responses he could give you. He’s no stranger to setting a mood. So many ways to provoke or tease you.

But he doesn’t, instead opting to ignore you with a grumbled and nonchalant “Yeah, okay, whatever” as he reaches for the remote to flick on the TV. Actions speak louder than words or whatever. Part of him hopes you’ll remember this later.

You scoff, too drunk and too enveloped in your own stimulation to care. You had other things to tend to.

He manages to veer his attention after that, his head turned to where his screen displays a rerun of some 4 AM cartoon. He tries to focus on the bouncing characters rather than what’s tempting him on the other edge of the bed.

A dull sight compared to you, naked from the waist down and still rubbing your cunt, a little slower now, distracted by the TV. Just next to him, fingers pressed against where your blood is swollen and sensitive. You spread yourself and feel how wet you are. Adam can hear the drooling sound of it so clearly, somehow tasteful to him, like light rainfall over a pond or a bathing suit dripping into a tub; sleepy summer sounds.

“Can you just rub your dick against my clit a little?” You ask, moving your fingers as if to give illustration of the idea, so swollen.

“Show me how you like to do it,” Adam proposes instead. “what gets you off best.”

You lean into him, letting out a pleased hum. In his own drunken haze though, he can’t help himself from it when he presses sloppy wet kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your swollen lips that taste so strongly of alcohol. You accept the kisses plainly while your fingers slot against your clit, pinching lightly. You moan breathily, hot against his lips.

God, you’re too fucking precious. He wants to be inside you so badly. He fuckin’ would be, if he were just a little bit worse of a person, if he happened to not give a fuck about you, if you weren’t already gasping and cumming, leaking onto the sheets of his bed.

“Good girl. Bet your pussy feels better now, huh?”

“Yeah...” You say with a yawn, the aftertaste of your orgasm already beckoning your body to rest.

“Get to sleep. You’ll need rest when I make you regret putting all this shit on me tomorrow.”

“Hey, Adam…”

“‘Sup?” He asks with that signature douchey indifference.

You scoot forward, tucking your head under his jaw. Lean into his neck and breathe against the pulse there.

Are you going to say it…?

“I’ve gotta piss,” you slur out. “and puke a little, probably.”

Adam deflates with disappointment.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” He sighs in defeat, before tossing the blankets back off of you and slipping a hand under your legs to carry you.

i didnt proofread this cuz ive read it a thousand times already but anyway let me know if u see any spelling mistakes at all, before someone else gets the chance to see them cuz that would be embarrassing and i'd have to boil myself alive

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel adam

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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Oral Support - Ghost x Reader [M]

Summary: A disastrous brush with auto-correct leads you down a path you had only ever dreamed of walking.

Notes: 18+, Implications of smut, actual smut, graphic descriptions of smut, no use of pronouns for Reader except for ‘you’, fluffy towards the end of both parts (separated by - ), Reader over-thinks (don’t we all?), oral (male receiving), a bit of angst at the beginning of part 2 (Parts 1 and 2 separated by the - ), mentions of pain, graphic description of smut, fluff at the end, (Y/N) is a little awkward at first, (Y/N) is inexperienced, (Y/N) also gets anxious, nervous knuckle cracking, pet name used.

Wordcount: 4,897 words

The fact that you’d managed to get as close to Ghost as you had was in itself miraculous. Well, ‘close’ being an exaggeration; immediate acquaintances, at the least. Friends, at the most. Regardless, it had come with its many obstacles.

Such as now, after your inquiry about Ghost’s day, which you’d hoped to be benign, which was met with a simple: Alright.

Oh god, the dreaded full stop.

Your heart spiked, your back was up. Your micro-analysis began.

He doesn’t usually end sentences with a full stop - he thinks they’re a waste of time. Is he mad at me? Did someone steal his phone and impersonate him? Is he okay?-

You heaved a sigh. Told yourself to calm down.

It’s fine, you’re fine, he’s fine. Stop over-thinking everything.

But alas, that is what we are all victims to when in the throws of a crush.

The word had crossed your mind every now and again, dancing between your synapses like a demon in a church. It made you cringe, made you feel juvenile. Inferior. But you couldn’t deny it. In spite of its childish connotations, it was what you were experiencing.

You had a crush on Ghost.

Absolutely ludicrous is what you’d called it when you were alone. Totally and unequivocally baseless. You hadn’t even seen his face, nor did you know his name. You just knew that you liked him. And you’d hoped that somehow, somewhen, he’d grow to tolerate you, too. And that hope was being steadily fed by Soap, who’d reassured you during your sleep-deprived, delirious ramblings (of which you remember little) that “Getting Ghost’s number is a good sign,” and that it meant he “at the very least acknowledges you.”

Better than nothing,you’d convinced yourself. Better to be acquaintances than strangers.

You knew not to press the issue. You knew when to stop. But you just wanted to make extra, doubly sure.

Positive?

You hoped he’d understood your message. Hoped it hadn’t been too vague. Your phone pinged. He always managed to get back to you quick enough, you’d noted - something Soap had brought to your attention, too.

Yeah.

Okay, you told yourself. Enough stress. Time for bed.

You were about to put your phone down. Just about to. Then, a brilliant idea flashed in your mind.

You opened the message board again and began typing.

I’m here for moral support if you want it

Perfect, you told yourself. Not pressuring him to open up but making yourself available to him. Brilliant.

You sent the message, put the phone away, and turned in.

But something crossed your mind just as sleep caught up with you. It was a nagging feeling, the same twinge of anxiety one gets when they wonder if they’ve locked their front door or taken their chicken out to defrost overnight.

It made you uncomfortable. You shifted, hoping a change of position would make it go away.

It didn’t.

You turned to lay on your back, huffed, and looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer lay there.

What is it? you asked yourself. What could it possibly be?

You ran through your day, brushing over everything you’d done, anything you may have missed. Right up until you turned over on your side and tried to get some sleep.

And then it came to you. An intrusive thought, a message from God, a monster lunging out from a closet. It held your heart in its icy grip. Sitting bolt upright, you tore your phone from your nightstand and opened your message board with Ghost.

I’m here for oral support if you want it

How?! you screamed within. How could I have misspelled-

Auto-correct. Of course.

Even worse, Ghost had read it and said nothing.

You were on damage control immediately, putting all PR managers everywhere to shame.

*moral support

I meant moral support.

The full stop and calmness with which you communicated belied the storm that brewed in your mind. You tried to counteract it, asking yourself what the worst he could think or do was. That made it worse, your brain taking you down dark alleys and avenues of a lonely future, forcing you to shake hands with your own doom.

Eyes bleary with sleep and panic, you scarcely noticed that Ghost had replied, the only indication being your phone vibrating.

You scoured the screen, breaking your anxious haze and analysing his message.

Is that offer revoked?

The image - the intrusive image- of the implication of Ghost’s message flashed behind your eyes, blinding you. Your phone dropped onto your covers.

You stifled a scream.

What do I do? you thought. Who do I call?

You considered your best friend, but that was’t an option. Asleep, most likely. It was 2 AM. Their answer wouldn’t come quick enough.

Okay, Y/N, you can do this! Channel the energy of someone who knows what they’re doing.

You began typing.

Not if you want it ;-)

You’d accidentally channeled the energy of someone who had a good track record of flirting. Or, at least, you hoped.

Ghost began typing. Your heart pounded.

I’ll be back in a few days. Be ready for me.

Your heart seized. You screamed.

It worked! It’d actually worked! Auto-correct and your aimless flirting had done it!

Then, the excitement snapped off, a twig from a tree. Realisation dawned on you.

You only had a few days to perfect your technique. Now you really did need to call your best friend. I’ll do it tomorrow, you told yourself, and resisting the urge to message Ghost a plethora of excited nonsense, you took a shaky breath and lowered your phone to your side.

Somewhere amongst your newfound, delighted anxiety lay excitement, the hope that this accident, this interaction, could lead to something more. You smiled widely, the scene of you and Ghost, unmasked, on a date playing behind your eyelids, a projection of the future.

For lack of a better term, Ghost had ghosted you. After your interaction days before, you’d seen (or heard) neither hide nor hair of him; not from the boys, and certainly not from Ghost himself. Thus, here you were, knee bouncing as you perched on the edge of your sofa, mind racing with the ever-looming threat of rejection.

Maybe he was joking, you thought. Maybe he saw it as a throwaway flirtation and nothing more, maybe- maybe-

You didn’t want to cry. You really, really didn’t want to, but there was something about the possibility, the mere indication, of rejection - silent rejection at that - that made you want to choke up and shed a tear.

Get over yourself, it’s not like you had a chance anyway.

A cruel smile crossed your face. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing lost. Or gained.

With creaking knees, you stood, a shred of a laugh at your absurd attempts to impress Ghost slithering up your throat. The taste of mint slathered on your tongue reminded you of the nigh ritualistic self-care you’d inflicted on yourself these last few days. All just for him.

Sighing, you glanced about your spotless, soulless apartment, any indication of idiosyncrasy shoved under your bed or into the boiler cupboard. After inviting your friend round for a pity party - the same friend who had rigorously instructed you on blowjob etiquette - this place would sooner resemble the remains of a celebrity blowout than the quaint little apartment you called home.

You hummed, hoping the impromptu song would distract you from the growing desire to cry. Wallow, one might say.

A reality-piercing rapping at your door tore you from your train of thought. You jumped, almost throwing up your own skeleton. Your heart thudded in your chest, a steadily unsteady rhythm of anxiety coursing through you like acid.

Silence for a moment. Then: “(Y/N)?”

Your knees almost buckled beneath the weight of your incredulity. THe voice was low, raspy, distinctly British, the North-Western Manchester industrialism evident within it. Almost unbelievable.

Your chest erupted with razor-edged butterflies, nerves frying, heart thrumming, harp strings played by a manic god.

“Uh- y-yeah?” you called, peering round the living room door and down the hallway, the front door just in sight. You didn’t want to sound as if the voice was too familiar to you, just in case it wasn’t. In case it wasn’t Ghost.

“You gonna let me in or what?”

You didn’t move for a second, and then moved all at once. “‘Course, coming!” Your voice wavered as you hurried down the hall and to the door. Reaching it, you breathed deeply, quietly, aware of how thin the walls were, straightened out your shirt, and unlocked the door.

And there he stood.

Very little light made it past him, his hulking form taking up all the room that the doorway could spare him, broad and unrelenting. His mask made him appear as a reaper, eyes dark as the rest of his attire. With him he carried a canvas bag. You swallowed thickly.

“H-ey,” you said lightly, voice strained, cracking. You coughed, tried again. “Hey,” you repeated, normally, this time, and leaned against the doorframe. Ghost only looked down at you, emotions and intentions unknown.

Well, mostly unknown. No doubt the message - the silent promise - you’d given him flashed in his mind as it flashed in yours, weaving itself into the fabric of your psychology as any tangible crush did.

“Did it take you long to get here?” Small talk. Well done, (Y/N). You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide the hammering of your heart, making the fabric of your shirt jump as it thudded against your chest.

“Depends.” was all Ghost said. He peered over your shoulder. “You alone?” The question made something in you stir. The implication sat heavy in your stomach. It promised something, wanting to crack and bloom. You nodded, not trusting your voice, fighting the smile blistering onto your lips.“Right, then.” Ghost rasped. He looked at you. You looked at him. You both waited for the other to do something. You realised it was your turn.“Oh!” you exclaimed, folding out of Ghost’s path. “Come in, make yourself comfortable-”

Ghost breezed past you, not one for formalities. You swallowed and shut the door behind him. You begged and pleaded with any deity available that you hadn’t already annoyed him.He found the living room and placed his bag down, its contents heavy, evidenced by the thunk it made as it hit the carpet. He shed his gloves soon after, throwing them atop the bag.

You followed behind, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles. Your breathing was shallow and you felt warm all over, the beginnings of sweat forming under your armpits.

Ghost looked around; you could only assume he was familiarising himself with the environment. You coughed and gestured to the sofa, at which point Ghost turned and looked back at you.

“Take a seat,” you said, more requested, actually. Ghost gave a light nod and sat down, making the sofa bow in the centre beneath his weight. He gave a sigh, shut his eyes, and said nothing. He seemed to be comfortable, and you wondered if he’d come straight here from his latest mission. My head game needs to be immaculate to justify him coming all the way from God-knows-where to my apartment, you panicked.

You had the idea of prolonging said demonstration of said head game by offering Ghost tea, a British favourite, which he declined. You offered him water, biscuits, an omelette, a pair of fluffy socks, a film; he declined them all.

“I’ll tell you what I do want, though,” Ghost rasped, looking at you with undivided attention.

You wanted to be sick. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do this, you were simply mortified of the embarrassment that would come with not knowing how to walk the walk after talking the talk. You hoped you could buy yourself just a few more minutes to go over the needlessly explicit notes your friend had given you on this interaction.

You didn’t want to play dumb, nor did you mean to. You just wanted more time. “What?” you said, nigh shaking with uncertainty.

Ghost beckoned you and, with nowhere else to run, you came to him, standing just out of reach of his knees. He took your wrist and pulled you closer. “On your knees,” he said. His voice felt heavier, either because of the mask or…something else.

Your heart jumped up your throat. You swallowed it.

And now, on buckling legs, you lowered yourself to the floor, pants keeping your knees from being carpet-burned. You kept your breathing quiet, trying to deepen it. Your nerves were no less frazzled.

Ghost lifted his hips from the sofa and unbuckled his belt. He withdrew himself from his pants before you could comprehend or prepare yourself for what was happening.

“Woah!” you exclaimed. Then, you felt your heart and stomach sink. I did not just say that out loud, you begged. Oh my god, no, please.

Ghost’s head tilted as he continued looking down at you, holding his cock in his hand. Given how large the rest of him was, this shouldn’t have been surprising. Still, you were impressed; especially considering he was already half-hard. Something in you felt tight and hot.

“Woah?” he said. You could practically feel him raising an eyebrow beneath his mask. “That impressive, is it?”

You found yourself nodding. You were past the initial point of shame until you encountered the next; your own inexperience. Ghost let out a huff of air, likely a laugh or one of its diluted associates.

“Well, I’m honoured,” he said. There was jest in his tone, and for that you were grateful. You smiled, trying to combat the growing fear overtaking you. Not as honoured as I, you wanted to say, but it felt far too mediaeval and, dare you say, cringe, for this situation. You just nodded. Again

And here you were, staring at the dick of the man who had become the most recent and potent object of your affections. With absolutely no inclination as to what to do next. Your hands were folded in your lap. You squoze them together, trying to disperse some of your nervous energy.

With every second that passed you could feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into you. You knew the bare basics, and that was all anyone could ask of you. Just put it in your mouth and get it over with, you thought. Though, not that you didn’t want to take your time; you would have loved to given that you knew how to make Ghost feel good. But right now, your main concern was trying not to destroy any semblance of respect Ghost may have accrued for you by giving the most terrible head of his life.

All while thinking this, you hadn’t moved, eyes glazed over. Ghost’s baritone came as a startling distraction.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he said. There was mild concern laced somewhere in his voice.

“Oh, no! Totally fine!” you said. Your voice cracked and you winced internally.

“You sure?”

You nodded, smiling through the anguish. “Yeah, yeah. It’s just…been a while since I’ve seen…” you didn’t want to make eye contact with it again; it felt wrong to do so without doing something to it.

“How long?” The rounded edges of his accent and refusal to pronounce a handful of letters felt oddly endearing to you in this moment. Or perhaps you were clutching at straws, anything else to pay attention to aside from the growing tension in the room.

“Uh…” you pretended to count how long ago your last encounter was, already knowing the answer. “About…I don’t know, doesn't matter - just a long time,” you smiled, your signature at the end of a disaster of a sentence.

Ghost said nothing. Did nothing. He leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees, and stared into you. His mask consumed your vision. You knew you couldn’t look anywhere else, frozen.

“(Y/N)...” he began, sighing lightly. “Do you actually wanna do this?”

“Yeah! I mean, I want to, I really want to! It’s just that…” You wanted to swallow your confession, hide it where nobody would ever find it. Ghost’s head tilted as he looked at you.

“But what?” he said. His voice held no urgency, no pressure, but something…sincere. Curiosity? Perhaps he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with your sort.“I…” You sighed. The jig was up. Time to come clean.

“I’ve never actually done this before.” You hammered the final nail in your coffin. “Ever.” Your gaze dropped and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, to see his disappointment. You hid, pointing your face to the floor, your hands on your thighs. You heard Ghost shift.

“Well then, why didn’t you say so?” You felt a hand slide around the back of your head. You jumped, gaze snapping to meet Ghost’s. There was a glimmer in his eye. “I’ll guide you. Just keep your teeth out the way and suck.” His eyes were darker than they had been before. Even without the mask, you felt that he would look just the same.

You nodded, mouth ajar with shock. Ghost took full advantage by bringing your head down to his thighs and prying your mouth open with the tip of his cock. You jumped, he held you in place. You could feel how many hours he’d put into his strength by his firm grip in your hair; not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that it could.

And that power made you warm and wet in places that typically couldn’t be provoked by real, physical men. The many figures and books you’d swept under both the proverbial and physical rug were evidence of this.

Taking in the bulbous tip, you recalled Ghost’s explicit instructions to keep your teeth out of the way and all but unhinged your jaw, trying to accommodate the first of many inches. With the restraint of a god, Ghost only watched, waiting for you to accustom yourself to his girth before continuing.

“Y’alright, Precious?” he said, squeezing your hair, prompting an answer. You hummed around him, making his eyes twitch and the rest of him harden. “Now,” he breathed, “be good for me. Keep goin’,”

You couldn’t nod, you couldn’t do anything aside from what he’d instructed you. And so, you descended. You inhaled another inch or two, swallowing when you felt your saliva collecting in your mouth. As soon as you did, Ghost jutted by a fraction. You decided to try something you remembered teaching yourself.

Your tongue gingerly danced along the edge of his shaft, trying to find the tip before it was too far down the back of your throat even for light to reach it. Ghost gave a light groan as your tongue glossed over the veins of his cock, stopping only upon feeling a dip in the head. Then, with little mercy or idea of what would happen, you stroked it with your tongue, continually, back and forth, in a sustainable rhythm that eased you into a comfortable monotony.

You closed your eyes, mapping out his member in your mind’s eye, a new, salt-like taste slick on your tongue as you went. Ghost’s light groaning turned into a deeper grunt, making your stomach feel tight. You recognised this new taste as pre-cum, something you’d thought was a myth until just now.

It excited you to think that you were the one making Ghost feel this way. You hazarded a glance at said man, and upon doing so, found him looking down at you through heavy eyes. You felt seen, and suddenly very naked. No, exposed. You resisted the flight response to withdraw.

Ghost’s hand rested on the back of your head, and, ever so slightly, you felt him pushing on it. “Go on,” he said through deepening breaths. “Take more of me.”

You obeyed, and, swallowing the collection of pre-cum and saliva collecting in your maw, urged yourself to take another inch or two. You gagged, the tip almost hitting the back of your throat. You could feel it practically grazing the soft, wet skin of your throat.

“S’alright, take your time,” he said, his chest appearing to rise and bay like the tide, deep and consistent.

You took a moment to familiarise yourself, to acquaint yourself with his size, before resuming. You knew you couldn’t take much more at this rate, and you didn’t want to open your eyes to see how much was left of him. Though, judging by the warmth radiating against your face and the tickling sensation of hair against your nose, you figured not too much more.

Your previous anxieties had washed away with Ghost’s soft guidance, leaving you to enjoy the sound of ghost’s groan-laced breaths and the barely restrained juts of his hips as his body urged you to take more.

You began bobbing your head, withdrawing your mouth before impaling it back onto Ghost’s length, all the while his breaths became more laboured, laced with groans and an odd moan. Your hands came to rest atop his knees, holding onto him. You yourself felt a wetness developing between your legs, though you tried not to think about it. A tightness formed in your core, jolting you with flashes of rapture.

You sucked hard, coaxing a faint ‘Ah' from Ghost, followed by the purr in his chest. Guttural groans.

You felt the sheer weight of Ghost’s dick on your tongue, making your jaw begin to ache. You tried to push this aside, too, opting instead to focus entirely on making sure Ghost finished. You’d read enough fanfiction to be able to tell when that would happen.

Whenever you swallowed around his cock, you heard a strangled noise escape him, not yet a moan, but the promising beginnings of one. It was deep, gruff. You wondered if Ghost made noises like this while getting himself off. The thought sent another jolt between your legs.

The sound of your collective breathing and you guzzling your own pre-cum-laced saliva made the room feel smaller, encasing you both in your own story, one which you hoped had a happy ending.

“Fuck me,” he breathed as your tongue caught a particularly prominent vein, “you sure you’ve never done this before?” He looked down at you through half-lidded, almost closed eyes. Hooded. You felt a smile coming on yet was physically incapable of expressing it. You hummed a response, pride swelling in your chest as you watched Ghost’s eyes screw shut at the feeling.

You wondered if he was close, and, judging by the shortening space between his breaths and the amount of pre-cum filling your mouth, you believed so. His grip in your hair tightened and you could feel him becoming more lost by the second as his restraint crumbled, leading to his grip becoming somewhat painful.

You ignored it, instead trying to take the rest of him for the final stretch. You swallowed, then advanced, swallowing the last couple of inches. His tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged, trying to suppress the aching in your jaw and throat. Ghost hissed, his hips bucking once before he settled again. Your nose was pressed against the bottom of his stomach, dark, curly hairs tickling your nose.

You sucked him, felt him, your tongue trying to coat every inch of him in your saliva, the fire in your lower half burning brighter than ever. Your mind wandered to what it would feel like to be filled by him, encouraging you to go faster. Harder. You moved at a pace you thought was beyond your capacity, lips burning from the friction of sliding across the length of Ghost’s glossed cock.

“Just like that,” he breathed, just about capable of forming a cohesive thought, never mind a sentence.Something in your intuition told you he was close. Or perhaps it was in the way his groans had turned into deep, baritone moans and barely-comprehensible curses. You sucked harder.

“Keep goin’,” he said, breathless, “‘m nearly there,”

With a final push, running your tongue along a sensitive vein and swallowing, throat contracting around his tip, he came. Hard. He let out a mask-muffled moan, short yet harsh and potent, tailing off into a symphony of heavy breaths and groans. The sound made your core hot and tight, radiating tension and the promise of euphoria.

His hand fused with your hair, gripping it tight enough to make you wince. Thick ropes of warm cum filled your mouth and throat, forcing you to withdraw as it went down the wrong way. You kept your mouth closed when you coughed, unsure of what to do with Ghost’s semen. It felt far too precious to spit out, yet you were unsure as to whether you were permitted to swallow. You watched Ghost collect his thoughts, his hold on your head loosening. He ran his fingers through where he’d held you, soothing you. Apologising for how rough he’d been.

His eyes opened, and he looked at you. You could see them widen fractionally as he spotted your cum-filled cheeks, waiting for his order.

“Fuckin’ hell.” he said, releasing a breath. Admiring his work. “Didn’t know you were waitin’ for me.”

You nodded, the taste of salt engulfing your tongue almost overwhelming. Ghost released the back of your head and deposited himself back into his pants, now having softened. He leaned down, just above eye level with you. “Swallow,” he ordered.

You did, and Ghost watched your throat bob. He gave a short hum and ran his thumb over the outline of your bottom lip. You leaned into his touch, his hand warm against your scorching skin.

You didn’t know how long you remained like that for, but it didn’t feel long enough. He withdrew, leaving you to feel cold without his immediate presence. Then, the reality of what you’d just done dawned on you. Your eyes widened, and you tried to keep your surprise to yourself.

You could scarcely believe that you’d actually - or rather, you and Ghost had - managed to do that without disappointing him. You only hoped it was as good for Ghost as he’d made it seem.

“Ghost,” you said, voice raspy and low, soft with inquisition. Ghost only hummed, leaning against the backrest of the sofa. “Did…” you swallowed, the slick remnants of him residing in crevices in your mouth. “Did I do well?” You almost wished you hadn’t asked, cringing at how desperate for confirmation you sounded. In your head, at least.

Ghost didn’t make it seem like that. He gave a slight nod.

“Very well,” he said, his emphasis reassuring you. You felt as if you could release the monstrous doubt accumulating on your shoulders. You gave a smile, plumping your flushed cheeks.

You both remained in slow silence, coming down from the excitement of what had just unfolded. Your gazes wandered the room, looking at nothing in particular. You wanted to maintain the tranquillity that had settled, but you felt another question burning in your lungs, desperate to be answered. You waited, then waited a little longer. Then, you asked.

“Ghost?” you said, your sore throat prickling, the ache in your knees becoming apparent to you. He looked to you. “Why did you come here?” Your question was genuine, and you didn’t want the skin-deep answer you knew was available to him; because I wanted a quick blow before I went home. You wanted him to look past that. His gaze was unintelligible.

“Why’d you invite me ‘ere?”

You blinked, then your honesty got the better of you. “Because…” You felt your face heating up again. You’ve literally just blown him, this should be a cake walk! “Because I...like you…?”

Ghost’s chest rumbled, likely a laugh.

“Well then, there’s your answer.”

Your heart wanted to soar, but the vagueness of his answer made you lust to ask just one more question.

“So…” you hoped your inquisitiveness (or density, as you might call it) was endearing, or at the least an excuse for your lack of abstract understanding. “Does this mean that you like me, too?” Your voice became more and more interrogative, phrasing the question in such a way that made it seem a mockery of itself, as if it were cosplaying its own function, exaggerated.

Ghost went quiet for a moment. “Honestly?” he said. You almost nodded before realising he was going to say more. “Yeah. I do.”

Okay, now your heart soared. You couldn’t fight the smile overtaking your features. Ghost noticed and made haste to try and revoke some of the joy he’d inflicted.

“Now don’t get all soppy on me,” he said, pointing a finger at you. “Else I’ll be forced to take drastic action.” Ignore you until you stop, is what your mind told you he’d do.

You tried to restrain your grin, but it remained. You could only reassure him verbally.

“No promises, Ghost,” you said, biting back the urge to laugh with joviality. Ghost shifted, his gaze becoming more intense. Serious.

“Call me Simon.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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Taglist: @cutiecusp

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justcallmedolce · 3 months

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Violet's death & Mizu's self-hatred.

I don't know if someone already noticed or analyzed this before, but I'm going to talk about it anyway.

As we know, Mizu killed one white "man" before the current events of the show.

It was first mentioned in episode 3, in the meeting with Heiji Shindo.

Mizu confidently says that currently there are 3 white men in Japan, which implies that she was already able to get to one of them.

So from that moment on we are sure she got to kill and get her revenge on one white man, but we don't know anything about how she was able to find them and who they were yet.

This changes at the end of episode 6 though.

When Mizu finally gets to face Fowler in the castle where he was hiding.

After Fowler takes over Mizu, he mentions a certain "Violet", to be precise, he states that "something happened to old Violet" and "was that you?” is the question he asks right after since he understands how dedicated Mizu is to her revenge.

(little note: in other languages Fowler refers to Violet with the “she/her” pronouns)

Thanks to that we know that the white "man" Mizu killed might be a woman, an old white woman named Violet.

Now.

Let's go back to episode 2, before the Four Fangs get to Mizu, she has a strange “vision” of her killing her older self, well at least that’s what I thought at first due to the missing information.

That, in fact, is not a “vision” but a flashback.

A flashback to when Mizu killed Violet.

What we can see is Mizu breaking through what seems to be a house, approaching an old woman sitting on a couch.

Now, the question is, why does she have Mizu’s face?

The answer is quite easy: Mizu’s self-hatred.

Mizu repudiates her white “half”, so deeply that she feels a strong desire to eradicate it from herself.

That leads Mizu to subconsciously switch Violet’s face with her own. As if part of her “impure” blood gets purified whenever she takes away the life of a white man she swore to get revenge on, because they’re actually the ones who made her, in everyone’s and, as a consequence, even in her own eyes, a monster.

—

Lastly I want to add that this is just MY theory, what I stated might not be totally correct. (if you think differently I’d love to see your theory in the comments, I’m curious to know what do you think of the “flashback/vision” Mizu had)

Okay soo, this was all. I honestly can’t wait to know more of Mizu’s past in season 2.

See you there.

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai #bes

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writers-potion · 15 days

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How do I accurately include diversity, and not make it look like I’m just putting it in there for the sake of it?

Writing Diverse Characters - Things to Remember

Honestly, there's no definitive answer to this.

Your characters are people with clear goals, desires and a role to play in the plot. As long as they aren't just sitting there with little else but their race/gender/disability, etc. as their ONLY personality trait, at least you're on the right path.

As for representing a diverse character realistically, here are some things you can consider to get started.

Do's

RESEARCH. There are plenty of blogs/YT vids/websites that exist to help you! Meet people!

Get beta readers.

It doesn't have to be explicit. Racial identities become quite clear early on through the setting, name, and initial description(hair, eye/skin color, body shape, etc) without having to drum it into the readers each time. Gender diversity can be conveyed through the use of certain pronouns without awkward declarations.

Character first, diversity second. Please don't intentionally create a diverse character and then think about how you can push them into the cast. Have a working character, who happens to belong to a particular group.

Read works that have represented a group well. There are plenty of non-fiction works, movies and documentaries that capture the lives of people around the world with a good eye.

Use the correct terms/language

Include different types of diversity

Don'ts

Race/gender/diability is NOT a personality trait. Please. Telling me that you have a Korean girl tells me next to nothing about the character herself.

Using sterotypes. Now, it's all right if your character has a few sterotypical traits, but definitely not if sterotypes are the only thing they have.

Diversity is not a "shock factor". Suddenly revealing that a character is actually gay and has been in the closet all this time as a refresher so that it draws readers' attention? Not a good idea.

One diverse character does all. This can often be seen in female characters of slightly dated works where one woman will play the role of supportive mother, sister, femme fetale and sexy Barbie at the same time. Don't write a diverse character who basically does everything a diverse character can possibly be. All that it proves is that the writer is lazy.

Things I personally hate seeing:

Weird pronunciation of languages. As a Korean person, I always get turned off by works (mostly badly written fanfics, yes, I read those...) that try to transfer Korean dialogue directly onto the page without even checking for the correct way to spell them out. A similar example would be pinyin for Mandarin. Please, this makes the character sound stupid throughout...

Character sticking out almost painfully. If your character isn't from the region but have lived in it for a long time, what reason do they have not to blend in?

Relying on variety shows/dramas as reference. Media representation of diverse characters that are meant for entertainment is not the best source for authentic research. I die every time someone lists a number of Korean rom-coms they've watched for "research". IT DOES NOT COUNT.

As a last note, remember that there's no limit to the kind of characters a writer can writer. Accept that our job as writers is to step into other people's heads, not seeing things from one (our) perspective - and it is not going to be easy.

Hope this helps :)

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love-quinn · 1 month

Text

WOVEN TOGETHER ━━━ remus lupin x reader

━━━ 𖥻︰ 2091 words

summary: despite your best efforts, remus lupin might just become your friend.

pairing: remus lupin x reader

tags: platonic remus lupin x reader, she/her pronouns, reader is a gryffindor the same year as the marauders, shy reader, mentions of anxiety

The common room was one of your least favourite places to be, but your dorm room was worse, so there you were. It was getting late, and you had a potions assignment due the next day, so you were sitting in a quiet corner trying to work on it. Well, trying to want to work on it. You were only just passing by the skin of your teeth, and if you failed this essay then it would bring your grade down from an Acceptable to a Poor, and that meant that you wouldn’t be able to get the NEWTS you needed. You weren’t sure what those NEWTS were, as the idea of having to do anything after finishing school filled you with fear, but you figured it probably would have something to do with potions. You sort of just picked the electives you enjoyed and then did your best.

Unfortunately, your best didn’t seem to be good enough with this essay, as you had been working on it nonstop for the past four days and you still had another 10 inches of parchment left.

“Disfigurement,” a voice came from above you. You looked up from your homework at a boy, looking bashfully at your parchment.

“Excuse me?”

He had the good graces to look embarrassed by the way you were looking up at him. “Disfigurement is one of the major side affects of using lacewing flies in the potion, a big part of the reason that it’s level three restricted by the ministry,”

Now, normally, a man standing above you and explaining something that you already knew would absolutely ruin your day, Merlin only knew it happened often enough. But normally, the men doing it didn’t look like they were talking about it out of pure interest.

His eyes got slightly dimmer as he realised your annoyance, a darkened honey colour that people wrote songs about. “Sorry, I should’ve- Just because you paused writing doesn’t mean you didn’t know what you were talking about. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You decided on after a minute. You knew who he was, of course, you didn’t spend seven years in the same grade as someone without learning their name, but you were nearly one hundred percent certain he didn’t know yours.

“I just came over for…” he gestured uselessly at the small collection of cups on the table beside you, with a metal pitcher of ice cold water that stayed full no matter how much you poured it. A group of boys in your year had tried to use it to flood the common room one time. You had a sneaking suspicion the boy in front of you had been involved, despite the fact that he never received detention for it like the others did.

“Go for it.”

He poured two glasses of water and paused, looking at you. “I really am sorry. I’ve offended you.”

“I’m not offended,” you replied honestly. “I normally would be, but I’ll allow it just this once.”

The boy cracked a smile, slightly crooked, and it evened out his whole face, as though he had been created just to smile like that. “Thank you, then.” He corrected softly. “For not being offended by my interruption.” He put the cups down gently and looked for a moment as though he might shake your hand, before thinking better of it and leaving them hanging uselessly by his side. “I’m Remus.”

“So I’ve heard,” you didn’t mean to sound pretentious. “I just mean- we share a lot of classes, so I’ve seen you around a lot.” Now it was your turn to be embarrassed.

Remus continued smiling. “No, I know. I see you all the time. You always snag the good table in the library.” He gestured to you, testing your name out experimentally on his tongue, as though afraid to get it wrong. You nodded.

You liked studying in the library because it made you feel like an actual student. Doing homework on your bed, while the more common alternative, made you feel as though you were doing it wrong somehow. As if, because you hadn’t put in the effort to go all the way to the library and bring your study materials with you that you didn’t deserve to do well on whatever it is you were working on. “Do I?” your voice sounded far away, even to yourself.

“I’ll forgive you, though,” Remus said good naturedly, noticing your change in tone. This interaction had gone on far too long for your liking. You were beginning to feel exhausted. How embarrassing.

Talking to strangers for longer than ten seconds makes my stomach do a backflip, you thought bitterly to yourself. That was why your dorm room didn’t feel as welcoming as it was perhaps meant to. The girls in there talked, like they were friends. And they were friends, it was easy to see that.

You’d been so removed when you first started at Hogwarts, when you were only eleven. So overwhelmed by the hundreds of rooms and the hundreds of students, that when your roommates stayed up all night chattering and getting to know one another, you had felt nothing inside you aside from a desire to go to sleep. It took weeks before your nerves calmed enough to even attempt to contribute to their conversations, and by the time you had realised that maybe you did want to be friends with them, they had accepted your silence.

You gave Remus an awkward smile, the polar opposite of the one he’d given you. As if your grinning was a defect, not something you were designed to do. Sometimes it felt like maybe you weren’t.

He was still standing there. How could you make him go away without explicitly telling him to? You felt nauseous, squirmy under his gaze. Why hadn’t he left yet? “That essay Slughorn gave us is a real doozy, isn’t it?”

You cracked a real, genuine smile at his word choice. You didn’t know anyone who used the word ‘doozy’ and the best part was, it seemed to be entirely unironic. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I was planning on spending the afternoon up in the library, working on it.” His hand fiddled with the hem of his button-up. “Any chance I could sit at the good table?”

You nodded almost instantly. “Yeah, no, sure. It’s all yours. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hog.”

“You’re not,” he let out a breathy laugh. “You’re jumpy, aren’t you?” You felt it, and your cheeks burned at the notion that he could tell. “If you wanted to still study at your same table, and I was also to study there, both of us in complete silence, then I don’t think that would be so bad?”

Remus could see that you wanted to say no, and he didn’t want to push it if you were clearly uninterested, but he also knew that it had been seven years of you being the only Gryffindor girl he’d never spoken to, and also being the only Gryffindor girl he’d ever felt a strong desire to speak to. The others were great, sure, Lily and Marlene had become friends to him more concretely now that Lily and James were seeing each other, and Alice had always been sweet. You, on the other hand, had been described by your roommates as sad. Not ‘pathetic’ sad, but a more deep sadness.

“She’s awfully kind,” Marlene had told him once, hushed in the back of a History Against Magic Lesson. He hadn’t remembered how your name had been brought up. “Think she just likes it quiet.”

“The table’s yours,” you offered. “It’s okay. I can just study down here, it’s warmer.”

“It’s louder, though,” Remus reasoned. “Up there there’s no… well, no guys coming over here to explain something you probably already understand.”

“I thought you said you were going to be there?” You were genuinely confused at what he was asking of you by this point, but he laughed it off. You staved off a frown.

“I always find that homework is nicest when you’ve got someone there,” he offered finally. “Even if you’re not talking, just purely sitting there.”

You didn’t see how that would help at all. You’d probably be too distracted by anyone to even get any work done. But, you realised with a start, the notion of someone wanting to spend time in your vicinity, as innocent as Remus’s intentions were, made your heart ache.

He probably just wanted to be able to sit at the good table without putting you rout, you understood that. But at the same time, if he really wanted to sit there, and he really wanted to not disrupt your routine, then you didn’t see why not, even though maintaining eye contact with him for any longer than a second felt as though you were going to combust in a caramel-irised explosion.

“You can come,” you conceded, gently, hoping as not to come off rude or too territorial about your space. Perhaps it would be better if you studied outside, or in an empty classroom. That way you weren’t getting in his way.

“Excellent,” he was talking too loud, and he could tell that by the way you shrank back in your seat. “Maybe I can finally get my transfiguration grade up, Merlin knows you’re doing well in that class.”

Why would he say that? That made him come across as a stalker who knew all your grades. He hoped you didn’t think that implied you did need help in potions. Your reactions weren’t giving him much, and it was making him nervous. He definitely shouldn’t have come over here, but he had been scrambling for something to say, and now he had to take water over despite the fact that no one had asked for water.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You closed your textbook so gently it didn’t even made a paper noise as the cover closed. “But if you really do need help, then I might be able to.” You offered him one final smile, cheeks tinged with a visible blush.

You hoped he couldn’t see how dizzy you were getting. You wanted to go sleep and pretend this was all a dream so you could go back to ignoring Remus’s existence like he could go back to ignoring yours.

Unfortunately for you, though, he’d found your little hidey-hole study space that you occupied yesterday, coming in to tease you light heartedly about abandoning him for transfiguration. You didn’t not want to talk to Remus, it was nothing about him. He’d been nothing but sweet and funny in the very limited interactions you’d shared, you were the issue.

“Should’ve known you’d ditch me,” he’d said with a sigh as he sat down, opening his textbook up. You found you didn’t mind his being there as long as you weren’t expected to contribute much to the conversation.

“Thought it would be obvious.” You’d attempted to match his airiness in your tone. It came out strangled.

He sighed gently. “I wanted to pretend it wasn’t so, sweetheart. I thought you and me had something special. I told you about disfigurement in potions and you tell me about disfigurement in transfiguration.”

He’d been attempting to do the spell for about an hour, trying to turn a ball of yarn into a scarf. It was a simple spell that’d normally be of no issue to him, but he just couldn’t get it this time.

After nearly forty minutes of mumbling all but silently to himself so as not to disturb you, you had enough. You reached over and, so delicately he’d thought at first it was simply a breeze, uttered the spell while controlling his hand movements. A long, thickly knitted navy scarf burst from the ball of wool, landing pooled by his crossed legs. You looked up at him, expecting to be reprimanded for the touching, knowing you would have done exactly the same.

“You’re not real,” he said after a moment. Sometimes you felt that way too. “We’re officially studying together every time, now.” He grinned to himself, picking up the scarf and wrapping it securely around your neck multiple times, tucking the ends in to your jumper. It was soft. “Every single time, you little wonder.” You maybe didn’t mind as much this time as you had when he’d last suggested it. Your smile was almost hidden behind the mass of fabric you’d just helped him conjure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see it.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus x reader

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idyllic-affections · 9 months

Note

i’m in love with the kaveh disaster dad au you have and i would love to see alhaitham becoming closer with kavehs kid. like mr stoic over there having no idea where those books and supplies about that very niche thing they were talking about yesterday came from

newfound fondness.

summary. alhaitham grows a little more fond of the orphan kaveh insisted on adopting.

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. alhaitham & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello dear <3333 i really needed a shorter request to write bc all of my other requests are a bit more lengthy and i'm in just a little bit of a burnout state so i am delighted by this request. i love my adoptive dad kaveh series...... i also realize now that i don't really talk too much about alhaitham and his relationship with [name] compared to how often i talk about tighnari and kaveh's relationship with them. also cyno???? i have neglected him too??????

at first, alhaitham wasn't keen on bonding with kaveh's adopted child; a child would only disrupt the comfortable life he has both built for himself and worked so hard to maintain. of course... he ended up being wrong. terribly wrong.

all throughout [name]'s first few months of being integrated into their new family in sumeru, they don't spend much time—if any at all—in kaveh and alhaitham's shared house. most of their time is spend in gandharva ville or in sumeru city, the latter being either on the weekends with kaveh or throughout the week with tighnari (if he happens to need something from the city and decides to let them tag along). given this fact, it's not at all a surprise that they didn't really know much of alhaitham, aside from the casual mentions of him from their other sumeru family members.

later on, as kaveh slowly grows into the vacant father role in their life, filling the empty space, they start spending weekends at his house... which is really the scribe's house, but at the time, that detail meant nothing to them. alhaitham never bothers to correct them, either. it doesn't really matter.

sometimes kaveh has to run errands and doesn't want to take them out in the glaring midday sun; they didn't grow up in sumeru, and they're already having a hard time adjusting to the heat (not that he's any better at handling it), so he doesn't want to risk exposing them to the sun at the peak of the day. sometimes he has to go meet one of his clients for a consultation and can't take them with him. who knows? either way, kaveh always makes these trips as quick as possible. his weekends belong to no-one but his kid. his clients find his doting behavior very cute, thankfully, so he hardly ever takes long.

alhaitham is always home during these occurrences (kaveh forbids him from leaving, since he wouldn't so much as dream of leaving his child home alone at such a young and vulnerable age—not that the scribe would leave them home alone, but still). naturally, this led to unavoidable meetings.

alhaitham quickly picked up on the many odd behavioral patterns kaveh's child displayed.

they were quiet—with him, at least. they were happy and expressive like most other children their age with kaveh or tighnari or collei, but with him? they never said a word, only speaking when spoken to, quietly shuffling around the house without so much as a peep... but more importantly, he sure as hell noticed the way they'd peek around the wall and shyly watch him as he read. they never got closer than that, though, and they'd run off if they realized he had seen them. based on this, he simply came to the conclusion that they were shy.

...or anxious, he supposes, but there is a vast difference between anxiety and shyness, and what he sees in them is not necessarily anxiety.

eventually, he does get sick of it. it's not like he worried about coming off as intimidating, no. it's just that if [name] maintains a poor image of him, it would eventually be an inconvenience for him. yes, yes, that was all. he just needed to kill a potentially dangerous rumor at its source before it got vastly out of hand. that's all.

"come here."

the way he sounds when he beckons them over is admittedly a little harsher than what he meant to be, so he's very much glad that they still do come over to him, timidly fidgeting with their sleeves.

"since you seem so interested... sit down, i'll read to you."

"h— huh? really?"

"hurry up before i change my mind."

as alhaitham reads to them, he points out words they may not understand and explains what they mean, also going as far as to help them pronounce some words that they mentioned having trouble with back at gandharva ville.

"oh... tighnari showed me that word, but i can't get it right."

they also can't pronounce tighnari's name correctly, which makes alhaitham's lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.

"here... i'll show you. which word is it that you're having trouble with?"

though it is something of a tutoring session, alhaitham finds that there's something... calming about it. he doesn't bother moving them away as they gradually get closer, only adjusting to accommodate them.

he also doesn't say anything when their weight falls a little heavier on his chest.

...did they really feel safe enough to fall asleep, just like that? the thought makes a fond warmth spread in his chest. he has no intention of telling kaveh or anyone else, though.

kaveh comes home later to see his child curled up asleep in the scribe's arms.

(the second he points it out, which of course he does, alhaitham's cheeks flush a slight pink and he coughs, telling kaveh to come get his kid and claiming that they wouldn't leave him alone.

the architect has never rolled his eyes harder than he did at that.

alhaitham's newfound fondness is obvious, but kaveh decides to leave it alone for now.)

from then on, they are just as excited and bubbly when they see alhaitham as they are when they see any of their other family. he's even gotten accustomed to hoisting them up, balancing them on his hip, and just... carrying them around.

oh, and alhaitham has no idea where those hobby supplies came from. he's got no clue where those books on a hyper-specific topic that they mentioned offhandedly the other day came from. he has no clue. none in the slightest.

...

maybe alhaitham is a little soft for them. just a little.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ]#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin child reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin platonic #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader

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ineffablydaydreaming · 8 months

Text

Okay i might be a little pissed off. Expect typos, im on my phone.

A character does not need a specific label, have a gender, nor have sex/romantic physical gestures in order to be queer rep

Aziraphale and Crowley are not gay men.

They are played by male actors. They present male most of the time. But that means nothing, because gender presentation =/= gender identity or sex.

Neil has said multiple times that angels and demons are sexless. It's on the book. It's on several of his tweets and answers to asks. This implies that angels and demons are non-binary by default. Gabriel isn't a man, Michael isn't a woman, Beelzebub isn't a woman, Furfur isn't a man.

And now, you could argue that a genderless creature isn't necessarily queer and I agree! Several animals are genderless irl.

But here's what makes them queer: it's not that they don't have a gender, it's that they don't give a fuck about it. Crowley presents female i believe up to three times in the show, Neil was planning a minisode where both he and Aziraphale are fem-presenting in the 60s; Michael is a male angel name and he's played by an actress and (At least in the portuguese dub? Correct me if im wrong) still called "he". Same for Beelzebub, who I think is also reffered to with they/them in english. Hell, God has a female voice and is still called God (the male version of the word!!!) and even Her pronouns are a bit flexible in certain dubs.

What makes them queer is that their genderless aspect isn't just biological, it's their identity, too. These characters are all non-binary, they know it, and they don't mind it.

"But they present male and call each other 'he'!"

As I said, gender presentation does not equal identity and neither does pronouns. It's words: words that get often associated with a certain gender but are, in the end, just words.

Not only that, but this argument also comes from the expectation that non-binary people cannot present themselves in a binary way, which is an absurd thing to expect. People irl have all kinds of different hormonal balances and many enby folk may be hypermasculine or hyperfeminine due to high testosterone or estrogen respectively. And you know what? They might not want to change that, and that is completely fine.

Non binary people do not owe you androginy.

Being trans isn't about appearances, isn't about transitioning, it's about identity. Thinking otherwise is borderline transmedicalist ideology.

Good Omens breaks gender norms all the fucking time in both seasons, something many shows are afraid to do, and it's not just for comedy reasons, which tends to be the norm when shows do it. They do it because it's fun, it's fine, and because they acknowledge that gender norms are stupid.

That's queer as hell.

My second point, no need for labels. Just like angels and demons don't need gender labels, they don't need sexuality labels. At all. Especially since they're often intertwined.

Just because two characters don't have their specific labels revealed doens't mean they aren't queer or, fuck's sake, don't love each other.

In A League Of Their Own, no characters get specific labels, what they are is simply implied. Greta is very implied to be lesbian but they never say the exact word. Does that mean she isn't queer?

In The Song Of Achilles, no characters get specific labels because hell, the labels didn't exist at the time the story takes place in. Both main characters are implied to be bi/pansexual but it's obviously never told in the text. Does that mean they aren't queer?

In Undertale and Deltarune, no characters get specific labels, but in both games the main protagonist is nonbinary (and is in both cases a human being!) and both games have several mlm and wlw couples and several more nonbinary characters across the storyline, but it's never specifically labeled. Does that mean it doesn't have queer rep?

Neil has said several times that Good Omens is a love story, that Aziraphale and Crowley love each other, that even if they're not 'gay male humans' they still feel love for one another. That's the entire point of season two.

And now, I get it, okay? I don't like authors tip-toeing around labeling their characters either, especially since in most places we are past the age of having to code characters instead of just make them openly queer. I get the fear and uncertainty that often came from some sort of trauma from bbc's Sherlock, I felt it too. I get that for some it may seem as if it's queerbaiting, or pink money, or simply being too scared to say a character is queer.

But that's just not the case with Good Omens. The point is not to avoid labels because they're scary. The point is that, for Good Omens, and aziracrow, labels are useless. They're not humans, they don't have a gender, they don't need the labels.

And you know what?

That's also queer as hell.

Society has to put people into boxes, has to separate folk, has to label everyone. No one can be different, and id you are you need to fit this specific box of different. If you go out, you're too much, you're too rebellious, you're a freak. If they just let people do whatever they wanted it would be hard to marginalize them and keep the system going.

A quote I once heard feels important for this occasion:

"To define yourself is to restrain yourself."

When you define something in strict terms you're putting rules to it. Rules that can be broken. Rules that should be broken. And the rulebreakers get insulted, hated, violated, killed.

Aziraphale and Crowley are breaking these rules by 'existing' as who they are. They're not gay men, they're not lesbian women, they're not bisexual agenders, but at the same time they are all of those things at the same time, whenever they want to, whenever YOU want them to, as Neil himself put it. Because fuck labels. And you're hating them for it, hating them because they're refusing to enter those boxes.

Humans are weird and complex. Let the angels and demons be weird and complex too.

Lastly, queer relationships don't need sex - nor kisses.

There's this expectation that romantic love is only true love if they kiss, if they live together, if they sleep on the same bed, if they go on dates, if they marry, if they have kids, if they have sex. Break one of these and people will raise an eyebrow. Break two and they look at you weird. Break three and everyone judges you. Break all of them and, suddenly, you and your partner have been declared "just friends" by outsiders who don't know you in the slightest.

Welcome to amatonormativity.

Or, better saying, another stupid box, another set of rules.

There's this headcanon that Crowley kisses Aziraphale as a last resort not because it's a gesture if love (even Neil said it wasn't out of love) but because he's seen it in human movies and, in movies, kissing someone in despair is a cliché that often ends in the other person not leaving.

This wasn't a love kiss. But Crowley still loves Aziraphale. Do you know why?

Because angels and demons, most likely, do not need human gestures to show love. They, most likely, comprehend love in an entirely different light.

Maybe Aziraphale is touchy with Crowley because he likes it and that is a good enough reason, but it's an individual reason, just like a person irl might be more fond of hugging their partner than kissing them, and that's fine. Nothing wrong with it. There's no right or wrong way to have a relationship. Acting like there is is reinforcing the rules set by amatonormativity, and it is also completely disregarding the experiences of asexual and aromantic folk. The entire spectrums btw.

Now think about the rules I mentioned earlier. Must kiss, must fuck, must marry etc.

Aziracrow also breaks almost all of them.

That's also queer as hell!!!

Being queer and celebrating pride isn't about having labels. It's about breaking societal norms: heteronormativity, cisnormativity, mononormativity, amatonormativity, etc. Norms that are used to opress us, to put us in boxes, to separate us, to marginalize us, and to kill us.

A show that gives the middle finger to all of these and just tells its story however way it likes, not caring about labeling the characters or having a long monologue about homophobia or showing a explicit sex scene between the two characters or following any of those stupid rules imposed by society, a society ran by cishet folk, is as queer as a show can ever be.

To deny that is to reinforce a narrative that is literally used to opress us.

That's all, bye.

Also, some of you guys are giving "I call beez she/her because of the actress" and that's cringe, but not surprising, ngl.

#hissing around #go2 #gomens #gomens 2 #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #crowley #good omens tv #ineffable husbands #good omens spoilers #good omens s2 #aziraphale #rant

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treysimp · 2 years

Text

Sleepy? (TWST X OBEY ME)

GN!Reader/Leona Kingscholar (Twisted Wonderland) | VERSUS | GN!Reader/Belphegor (Shall We Date? Obey Me!)

Rating: T (Language)

Tags: Crossover, petty jealousy, love at first sight, Leona can never spit it out because he’s a tsundere, GN!Reader, reader’s body is not described nor are pronouns used, this is mostly silly and I just wanted to see the boys being bratty haha

Words: 1.5k

Want more TWST? Here’s my masterlist!

This fucking guy.

Leona was irritated. Of course he was. How could he not be?

This guy, this dumbass, sleepy, blue-haired asshole, was getting his demon smell all over the herbivore.

That job is already taken, buddy.

How did his day even end up like this?

He knew he should have said something the second this guy sauntered his way into his business, but he just assumed that a demon wouldn’t care about something as trivial as a human.

That was a mistake. Clearly.

Earlier that afternoon, Belphie was trying to reconcile the pain of the less-than-literal hell of his time on the Night Raven exchange trip with his enjoyment of visiting somewhere new.

As excited as he was to get the chance to explore, he also had barely gotten any sleep. He felt like he might pass out at any moment, and while taking a nap was easy, finding somewhere comfortable is not.

Wandering aimlessly on campus looking for somewhere comfortable to waste a few hours, Belphegor found himself quite taken by the large and elegant greenhouse that lurked on the outskirts of campus. It reminded him of the Devildom Botanical Garden, which was a perfect place to relax. Hopefully it was just as comfortable. With a shrug, he wandered inside, trying to spot a nice bench or a patch of grass to occupy.

As soon as he passed into the barrier, Belphie was overcome with a lovely herbal smell. Like chamomile tea and moss after the rain. Following the smell, he saw something unexpected.

You.

While Belphegor wasn’t the quickest to warm up to humans, he had gotten better at being at least civil to them. He was not the type to pay much attention to humans around him (especially in a place like this, with enough wizards to feel like there were hundreds of excitable little Solomon’s running around) but something about you was different.

Something about you was intoxicating.

He watched you from afar, listening to you quietly speaking to the small plant that you gently brushed with your fingertips. You had a book in your hand, and seemed to be reading it to the plant from it.

From what he could hear, it sounded like you were reading out care instructions and then asking the plant if they were correct. It was mindless chatter, clearly the habit of someone who liked to talk themselves through their thoughts. Cute.

While Belphie had been rather set on having a nap, you seemed far more interesting at the moment.

Having an idea, Belphie approached you, putting on his most innocent look as he shyly tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Hey, I’m lost. You’re a student, right? Can you help me?”

Your eyes raise to meet him and Belphie feels like his heart could fall out of his chest when you smile up at him.

“Ah… that uniform. You’re from the Devildom?” You asked. Belphie nodded excitedly at your question.

That saved him an explanation. Cute and clever. You were just getting better and better by the minute.

“Sure, where do you need to go?” You were seemingly prepared for the question, giving off the impression of being someone that is used to answering similar inquiries.

Straightening yourself to your feet from a crouch and brushing the dirt off of your knees, Belphie felt his mouth getting dry. This was too much for a first meeting, but everything in him was begging him to touch you.

You had donned a lab coat and some goggles, over your uniform. The oversized goofiness of your outfit only making you look all the more charming with the dichotomy. He could now see that the book you were holding was named ‘Plants Care Laid Bare: Making Potions On the Cheap’.

There was certainly something here he wouldn’t mind seeing bare.

“It’s embarrassing, but I was trying to find a place to take a nap. I don’t have a dorm assignment yet and I’m dead on my feet. Are there any good places around here?” He asked sweetly, keeping his tone friendly and sheepish in order to get closer and encroach on your physical bubble just a bit. Unsurprisingly, you were even cuter up close.

You giggled, which caused your nose to wrinkle just so. Oh man, he hadn’t fallen this fast since he… okay, we aren’t going to think about that actually.

“I have it on good authority that over there is actually the preferred nap spot of a friend of mine.” You say helpfully, pointing over to a cove comprised of flowering bushes.

Belphie looked over to where you were indicating, noticing what looked to be a… rope of some kind peeking out. Huh.

“Unfortunately it’s currently in use.” You say with a wink, reading the questioning lilt of his expression.

“There’s a patch of clover near the flower garden though, which is my personal favorite spot.”

“Oh, really? Will you show me there?”

“Sure!”

And that started your flirtatious friendship with Belphie. You spent time sitting in the clover talking for hours that day, getting surprisingly deep. You talked about your school, your friends, your likes and dislikes. Time went by both slow and fast, causing both of you to drift into a comfortable nap under the sun.

By the time you woke up, Belphie had nestled into your side and you felt a small trail of drool coming from the side of your mouth. Ew. Thankfully Belphie was asleep.

You felt a light kicking at your ribs and heard an irritated sigh.

“Hey. Herbivore. Wake up damnit.”

And here’s the reason you woke up in the first place.

“Hey Leona. What brings you here?”

Leona’s lovely face was knit with irritation. His emerald eyes were narrowed and strangely intense with an expression that you weren’t familiar with. His hair slipped gracefully over his shoulders as he leaned over you, blocking the sun and giving him a halo in the light that peeled around the edges of his silhouette. It was exhausting how pretty he was sometimes, you thought.

Belphie stirred from his place on your chest from the sound, hazarding an eye open to see a man with animal ears and a tail glaring down at him.

Putting two and two together, he looked at the newcomers expression of irritation and the playful smile you gave in response.

And from your earlier comment… that wasn’t a rope earlier, he thought. It was this guys’ furry widdle tail.

Looking at the appendage that was swinging in irritation in front of him, a smirk crossed Belphie’s lips. Did he have competition here?

“The hell you think you’re doing cuddlin’ up to a stranger in the middle of the day?” Leona groused.

And why wasn’t it him?

“Belphie and I were talking and accidentally fell asleep. I’m sure the king of naps himself can relate?” You say with a raised brow.

Okay, yeah you had a point. Even Leona had to agree with that one.

“Whatever. It’s dinner time anyway. Don’t be late or your annoying friends will come and bother me about where you are again.” Leona huffed, flipping his hair over his shoulder and planting a hand on his hip.

Belphie had to resist a giggle fit. If his competition was this guy, then he had nothing to worry about. This kind of smug, ruggedly-pretty boy would rather choke than show a real emotion. Easy pickings.

Belphie murmured your name softly as he put his hand over yours. He met your surprised gaze with a sweet smile.

Leona felt his eye twitch from seeing this grimy demon put his mitts on his precious friend. Did this little cud-chewing brat really think he could just waltz in here and steal your attention?

“Can you show me to the cafeteria? I should probably find my brothers.” He said, giving you a positively infectious smile.

You nodded and stood up, offering your hand to help Belphie stand up. Taking your extended arm and using it to get to his feet, with a ‘thanks’, Belphie conspicuously refused to let your hand go once he’s finished getting up.

You can feel the tips of your ears burning slightly.

Leona can feel a vein in his forehead about to burst.

“See you at dinner, Leona! Text me if you want me to grab you anything.” You say habitually, waving goodbye to your sourpuss of a buddy. What’s his problem today?

You and Belphie walked out towards the exit, and before you make it out the door, Belphie spared a glance to see the hilarious seething expression of his haughty rival.

Feeling smug, Belphie made eye contact, wiggled a brow, and made a lewd motion that is best left to the imagination.

Leona returned the lascivious farewell with a one-finger salute and stalked off, wanting to throw something at that little jackass.

If that little calf thought he could just waltz into the lion's den and steal what wasn’t his, he was going to have another thing coming to him.

Belphie is such a troublemaker I just wanted to see what he would do to get under Leona’s skin. So cute. 🥰

I hope y’all didn’t mind the crossover but I’m dying at all the possibilities hehehe

Let me know what you thought, love you reader!

Requested Tags:

@naniky , @lotus-sukimoto, @angrybees , @supernatural9000 , @youaskedfurret , @omg-its-ailatan , @acherrytart , @venniin , @chillywinterbreeze , @shytastemakerthing , @lovelynai, @fightmeucowardlmao, @riddle-simp , @leonkae , @kit4kat256, @dari-kun , @bluesylveon2 , @fr0llo, @witch-waycult , @stillserene , @rebel-faes-writing , @chopid-lulu, @rosalie-in-twisted-wonderland , @sunnyseaside, @sarahyumiko2 , @star-gods , @ninjas-are-the-shit , @kumiko-desu , @aikochan4859 , @hxlcyon , @buckketboy, @sideofblog , @daeda21 , @yandere-kou , @readinganas

#twisted wonderland #obey me imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst leona #leona x reader #twst reader insert #twst x reader #belphegor avatar of sloth #shall we date belphie #belphie x reader #obey me crossover #twst crossover #obey me x twisted wonderland #leona twst #leona kingscholar x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me short fic #twst #disney twst

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chiibi-chaan · 10 months

Text

Gojo Satoru//hide, doll.

Content warnings// DARK CONTENT, +18 (minors dni), afab!reader (non uses of specific pronouns), ghostface!Gojo Satoru, yandere!Gojo Satoru, stalking, obsessive behavior, mention of murders, Y/n is threatened, manipulation, pet names (baby, doll, angel, my love), breaking into Y/N’s house, hide and seek (fear play?), knife play, dirty talk, blood kink, injuries, cunnilingus, slight choke kink, dub-con at first, unprotected sex, hidden camera.

Word count// 4.2K

Synopsis//He needed you, to the point of becoming crazy, to the point of killing. He wanted to grave his name into your skin, marking you forever, leaving a trace of his own existence directly into your body. You were his, his pretty doll… and you looked even more beautiful now that he had drawn his own art into your flesh, you were his perfect canvas.

A/n// NOT PROOFREAD (I'll correct it later). I apologize if there are mistakes, I had to publish this like 5 days ago but the whole thing was deleted by Tumblr because the app crashed before I could save my work, and I had exams too- I apologize to the people who were waiting for this, and I'll certainly write this week about the winner of the list some of you voted for (Sugar daddy!Toji is the winner for now, there's only one day left!)

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST. MASTERLIST.

It was finally Friday, and after such a long week of work, you needed to rest for at least the whole weekend. You didn’t plan to go outside, mostly because of the last events that occurred in the city where you lived. Indeed, a serial killer sowed discord in the streets, slashing innocent people in the most atrocious way. Most of the victims were acquaintances of yours, not close friends, but people you knew and to whom you would say good morning when you met them. You lived in a small town where everyone knew each other, and the thought that this killer could be one of your friends, was frightening. You couldn’t even walk in the streets without being paranoid, after all, without their mask, the killer could be anyone and anywhere. When you weren’t working, you stayed in your house, making sure that everything was locked and that the house was secured. The only people that you would let in your house were your parents and your best friend, but lately you didn't have the chance de see either of them. At least, your best friend was coming for a sleep over. You needed to relax, and it was the best way to forget everything that was happening. Even though you knew that a murderer was out there, you had this innocent idea that they wouldn't come for your life, because you weren't a bad person, just a normal office worker. How naive were you to believe that. You were the perfect prey, the perfect victim, a weak and ignorant person who wasn't paying enough attention to their surroundings, even if you tried, it wasn't enough, and it was clear that nothing you would do would be enough. Unfortunately, that simple mistake, was going to cost you more than you could give.

Soon, you received a text from your best friend, telling you that something came up and that you'll have to see each other another time. You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. It seemed like you'll be alone another night in your house. You stood up, quickly making sure that your front door was locked before walking to the bathroom, taking a quick shower. After putting on a comfortable shirt and shorts, you went back to the first floor, heading to the kitchen to make yourself popcorn that you were going to eat while watching a movie. Suddenly, your landline phone started ringing, startling you. You sighed, frowning a little and answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Y/n."

You raised your eyebrows, frowning even more as you didn’t recognise the deep, low voice talking to you, and yet, it seemed like the man at the other end of the call knew you. You sat on the kitchen’s counter while the popcorn were in the microwave.

"Who is this?"

"Mmh… A very, very bad guy."

"Don’t you have anything else to do? It’s late already, stop wasting my time."

"I have a question for you. What is our favorite scary movie?"

"It's not funny, you think that you're something, acting like that sick murderer just for a little prank?You're pathetic."

"If you hang up, I’ll—"

You didn’t listen anymore, hanging up before he could finish his sentence. That call clearly made you in a bad mood; with everything that was happening, dumb kids still made pranks like this? The only thing that bothered you was the fact that he knew your name, but except that, you didn’t pay anymore attention to it, or at least, until a few seconds later. The landline phone rang again, making you frown and glare at it in silence until it stopped. You thought that the person would get bored and stop, but you were wrong, it kept ringing, again and again, until you had enough and answered again.

"What is wrong with you?! Leave me alone!"

"If you fucking hang up on me or ignore me again, I’ll gut you like a fish."

Your hand almost let go of the phone in shock, your eyes widening and you body becoming stiff on the counter as you heard his low voice threatening you.

"W-What?"

"I’m sorry, Y/N. You made me lose my temper for a second."

"Are you crazy? You’re clearly sick! I don’t even know you and yet you’re here, threatening me and harassing me? Leave me alone if you don’t want me to call the police!"

You said with a loud yet trembling voice, ready to hang up again but stopping in your track when you heard him yell, your body stiffening even more and your blood running cold.

"Do you think I’m joking, Y/n? Oh, no… no, no, no… I can see you, doll… you’re so pretty, sitting on this counter like that… are you waiting for me? You can just open the door and I’ll keep you company…"

You gulped, looking up at the window of the kitchen just in front of you, only seeing darkness outside. But you knew that if you could only see shadows, the man staring at you outside could see you perfectly in the light of the room. You stood up, your legs a little weak and your hand trembling a little as you held the phone to your ear, your voice not about a murmur as you whispered;

"W-What do you want?"

"I want to play a game with you, doll… nothing too difficult."

"Will you let me live if I do…?"

"If you win, I will. It’s a real simple game, doll. You just need to be quick and smart, but you’re such a perfect girl, I’m sure that you can go beyond my expectations."

"What is the game?"

"Hide and seek. I’ll let you some time so that you can hide… and then, I’ll come in and look for you. If I can’t find you, you win… but if I do…"

He simply chuckled, his deep, husky voice sounding like a threat against your ear. What did he mean by that? He was going to come in? In your house? You gulped and looked through the window again.

"And don’t think about calling the police, doll… if you do, I’ll have to kill you. Now, you have five minutes to hide. I won’t cheat, promise."

You could hear the smirk in his voice and a little scream escaped from you mouth as the electricity in the house has suddenly been turned off. You gripped the landline phone tightly and ran upstairs to your bedroom. Your closet had a false wall, which no one knew the existence except your parents and best friend, and you planned to hide there. You were sure that this crazy man wouldn’t be able to find you. You removed the false wall of the closet, holding the wooden plank in your hands and sitting inside the closet, fitting just right into the hole behind your clothes. You put back the false wall in place and waiting, holding the phone to your ear again and listening to the his voice, he was still counting, and you shivered as you heard him finally pronouncing 300. You gulped nervously, trying to control your breathing while he spoke again.

"Ready or not, I'm coming to find you, doll."

You trembled as you heard a loud crash downstairs, he was really in the house, it seemed like he broke a window to come in. You could hear him chuckle softly, as if he found all this funny. For him, it was just a child play, but for you, it was a deadly game, your life was at stake. And unfortunately, fate wasn’t by your side today. You could hear his heavy footsteps as he goes up the stairs, he didn’t even lose time looking for you on the first floor. Maybe he thought that you would instinctively go upstairs as a way to change position in the house, or he just knew from the beginning where you were. And if it was the latter, you were sure that you would not be able to escape, not even if you tried to put up a fight.

"I hope you are still listening, doll… because I have a little surprise for you. I’m sure that you won’t answer me, since you’re supposed to be hiding and stay quiet, but I really miss hearing your voice. I can say, without doubt, that you’re curious about who I am, after all, we live in a small town, where everyone knows each other, but here I am, killing the people I saw all my life. Isn’t it ironical?"

You could hear him chuckle, before he became silent for a few seconds. And as you listened carefully, you heard him stop walking, the sound of his footsteps stopping right in front of your bedroom’s door. You closed your eyes tightly, praying that he wouldn’t find you, that you will win the game, or at least that he will be merciful enough to let you. But you were wrong, so wrong.

"You know, at first, I tried control it. This urge, this consuming thirst of blood… of death. I had this small part of my brain telling me that all of this was so, so wrong, and which made me feel even more guilty. But desire takes over everything, and soon, what held me from killing disappeared, engulfed by that other part of me, more cruel, more evil. So, I started to kill. I killed the people getting in my way. And I’m sure that you’re even more confused. I mean, why you? Why am I telling you this? Why am I doing this? The answer is very simple; it’s all for you, for us."

Your blood ran cold and you froze, your hand trembling as you held the phone tightly Your mind was completely blurred by insane thoughts, and as if the time stopped, as if only him and you existed, you understood. Tears formed in your eyes and a small sob escaped from your mouth as you tried to forget, to not think about what you feared the most. You didn’t want to believe it, to even think about it, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you couldn’t chain that dreadful realisation in the back of your head, like it never existed. And as the door of your room opened, the slow creaking of the wood making your heart beat in your temples and the sound of his steps echoing between the walls and in your ears like a drum of death, you couldn’t deny it anymore. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you looked up slowly, sobbing quietly as the sound of the closet opening was heard, before the false wall hiding you was slowly removed. And as your eyes met the dark chasms that were his eyes, or more precisely the eyes of his mask, you cried even more.

"hello, doll. Did you miss me?"

He whispered softly, chuckling behind his mask and crouching in front of you, his hand slowly playing with a dagger. Now, you could finally guess who it was, you could be sure of it. You could recognise his voice without even trying, this voice you heard all your life, since your childhood and until now. You knew this man, but the realisation that you actually didn’t was even more difficult to swallow.

"W-Why?"

"Because I can, and because I want to."

He simply answered, and before you could react, his fingers were already wrapped around your ankle, pulling you out of your hiding place and of the closet. You gasped, the back of your head and your back hitting the floor. You tried to fight back, but he was much stronger than you, his hand gripping one of your wrist and his other holding the blade of his dagger to your throat. You trembled, slowly calming down as I felt the weapon cutting my skin slightly, blood dribbling down my neck. He pulled back slightly, still holding the dagger to your neck and removing his mask with the other hand, provoking a small sob from your mouth as you saw his face, this face that you knew so well; the face of your best friend.

"S-Satoru... please, stop..."

"I can't stop, Y/n. It's too late. But you'll forgive me, right? You love me, doll... You can jut stay by my side and I'll protect you from all the disgusting men looking at you the wrong way."

"W-What? You killed them just for this? Satoru, you're delusional!"

"You think I'm crazy, right? You think I'm sick? but I'm not, I did this because I love you too, Y/n. It's my job to protect you, because I'm your everything, I'm the only person you can love besides your parents. They love me too, and they can't wish for a better husband for you, I'm the best choice! I'm rich, I'm handsome, strong, smart and funny. I can make you happy, your know that. So don't push me away, my love."

A small gasp escaped from your mouth once again as he pressed the dagger harder against your skin, your breath hitching and your hands holding on his black cloak. You then whimpered, trying to make him listen to you.

"Y-You're hurting me, 'toru..."

"I'm sorry, baby. But it's not by whining that I'll trust you. Unfortunately for you, I'm not an idiot, I may be I love, crazy in love, but I'm still smart enough to see what you are trying to say. "

"P-please, just put the knife away, you're scaring me..."

He sighed and nodded slowly, putting the dagger in a pocket of his cloak, away from your eyes. You closed your eyes in relief, but yet again, you couldn't think about relaxing with an insane murderer in front of you. Satoru ran his fingers through his silver hair, his baby blue eyes looking down at you. He leaned forward again, his hand wrapping around your neck, his thumb trailing along the small cut he made and wiping the blood. His eyes stared back into your eyes and he sucked his thumb with a slight smirk, licking your blood.

"You forgive me, baby? I just got a little excited... I wanted to taste you for so long, I'm almost desperate."

He chuckled, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him, lifting you lower body off the floor. he buried his face in your neck, his tongue slowly licking your cut, making you shiver and feeling things that you were ashamed of; your body stiffening and a small gasp coming out of your mouth. You could feel him smile against your skin, his hands running along your thighs and squeezing your hips gently. But even though he did this, you didn't do anything to stop him. You knew it was wrong, so wrong, and yet you still couldn't truly believe it, you couldn't accept that he was a murderer, that the man you've known all your life, the man you trusted and loved, killed people. You couldn't even deny the words he said earlier; he was handsome, smart... He described himself perfectly, and until now, you really thought that he was. Your heart started beating faster, bumping madly against your rib cage. Your hand gripped his hair, pulling his head away from your neck, your eyes hooded with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

"Satoru, it's... it's wrong..."

"It isn't, baby... just relax. let me take care of you..."

"but..."

"shh... trust me, okay? I can make you feel good..."

He kissed you softy, his hands holding your thighs around his waist, his hips slowly grinding against yours. You could feel the bulge of his erection straining against his pants and pressed against your crotch. Satoru smiled, his hands pulled your panties down your legs and he looked down at your exposed cunt, biting his lips softly before trailing his fingers along your folds, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.

"You're so wet, doll... You want me, don't you? Say it for me..."

"I...!"

Your lips parted and you let out a small gasp, his thumb rubbing your clit gently and his middle finger and forefinger slipping into your hole. Your thighs clenched around his waist and you moaned, your eyes almost rolling back when he curled his fingers up, pressing against your g-spot. He hummed softly, his lips trailing along your jawline and your throat while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his cock pulsing in his pants with each sweet moans coming out of your mouth or even the lewd and wet sounds your cunt let out as he fingered you. His free hand removed your shirt quickly, and he sat back a little, taking in the sight of your breasts and of your whole naked body. He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed while kissing you passionately.

"You’re too good for me, baby… fuck, I know I don’t deserve you, I really do. And it hurts so much to be aware of that. But let me be selfish one more time, Y/n. Let me have you, let me taste you, let me make love to you, just let me love you."

He said softly, his voice not higher than a whisper softly as he rested his forehead against yours, laying you down on the bed and hovering over you, his forearms on each sides of your head keeping him up so that he wouldn’t crush you with his body. He sounded desperate, wounded by having to admit this aloud. He looked vulnerable, almost pitiful, and you couldn’t prevent yourself from feeling touched by his words. You pulled him closer, pushing aside all the things that happened today and all the things you discovered and just hugging him tight, melting in the warmth of his body and nuzzling your face into his neck, accepting how weak you were for him, forgiving and forgetting all the things he did, just because you loved him. He kissed the cut on your throat again and pressed his hips against your bare cunt, grinding against you and grunting softly.

"I wanna hear you, baby… please, I need you… say it for me, yeah? Let me hear your sweet voice, tell me you want me, tell me you want me to make love to you… I’ll make you feel so good, I promise…"

"Please, ‘toru… I want you too…"

"That’s right, baby… you’re so perfect, my sweet angel…"

He whispered and pulled back, quickly pulling his black cloak over his head along with his shirt, exposing his bare chest and chiseled stomach. You whimpered softly at the sight, your hands gently brushing against his skin, stroking delicately the scars on his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes which were already staring right at you. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly before removing his pants too, only keeping on his boxers, which looked tight and uncomfortable due to his erection. His hands then held your thighs, pushing them apart as he laid down between them, his face close to your cunt. He looked up at you with hooded eyes, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin and he pressed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, his mind already completely clouded by the scent of you, by your mesmerising beauty and simply by you whole. Then, he finally put his mouth where you needed him the most, his eyes half closed as he looked at your every reactions while his tongue lapped at your folds, licking and swallow your wetness while his nose rested against your clit, his tongue pushing into your hole slightly, teasing you. Your heart pulsed faster into your chest as you tried to hold the eye contact, your face becoming hot with embarrassment and desire as you took in the sight of him, of his head buried between your thighs and his mouth eating you out almost desperately while his mesmerising eyes looked straight back at you. You moaned his name, one of your hands gently gripping his hair while the other held on the sheets tightly. He took only mere minutes to make you come undone on his tongue, moaning himself against your core while grinding himself against the mattress, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he sucked on your pulsing clit, his lips and chin glistening with your slick.

"F-Fuck, you taste so good, baby… could make me cum in my boxers like some virgin high school boy…"

Satoru whined softly, kissing your clit one last time before pulling away, his tongue running along his lips and licking your juices. He quickly pulled down his pants, along with his boxers, and sighed as his member sprung free, no more confined by its contraints. A small gasp escaped from your mouth at the sight of his cock, much thicker than you had imagined, his pinkish tip dribbling with precum. He pumped himself in his fist, groaning softly and being his bottom lip. You stared at him with hooded eyes, gasping softly when he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, pushing between them ad gliding it along your slit.

"Do you want it, doll? Do you want my cock inside your pretty cunt, mmh?"

You could feel your face radiating with heat, your body even hotter with boiling arousal. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice as your mouth let out a moan when his tip teased your clit, rubbing against it. You whimpered softly, your body stiffening as you felt him slowly pushing inside of you, his thick cock filling you up to the brim.

"f-fuck, fuck...! I love you, baby... o-oh god, you can't even imagine h-how much I dreamed about having this sweet little pussy around my c-cock..."

Satoru stammered, his dick twitching inside of you while he clenched his teeth. he could barely stay sane at this point, his mind completely foggy with lust and euphoria as he tried to stay still so that you could adjust to his size. You gasped for air, your back slightly arched and your eyes rolling back as you felt his tip kissing your cervix, small whimpers escaping from your mouth. Soon, he started moving, each thrusts of his hips sending your mind into a storm of bliss, your mouth agape and your nails scratching and digging into his back while he pounded into you, losing control over himself.

"you feel so good, baby... so much better than what I could ever imagine..."

He grunted, his face buried in your neck, his teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He moaned as loud as you, his hands gripping your hips, your ass and your thighs desperately, anything that could ground him and keep him wrapped in your warmth.

"I w-want you, fuck...! Y-You're mine, doll. Do you understand? A-All... mine."

He whined into your ear, practically rutting against you like a dog, his voice shaking as he babbled incoherently into your neck. He could already feel himself getting closer to orgasm, one of his hand resting against your lower belly and his thumb rubbing your clit furiously. His trembling voice begged you to come with him, he needed to feel your pussy clenching and convulsing around his cock before thinking about allowing himself his own release. A loud cry of his name echoed in the room as you felt your orgasm overwhelming your nerves and muscles, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, pressing your breasts against his chest. He moaned, one of his hands wrapping around your neck and squeezing your throat enough to make you lightheaded, the bliss and lack of oxygen making everything even more overwhelming. He kept thrusting sloppily into your sensitive pussy, his free hand gripping the knife in the pocket of his cloak while you weren't even able to see. He licked his lips, pressing the tip of the knife against your skin, drawing the initials of his name on your lower belly. You couldn't even feel the pain, too focused on how his cock was ravaging your insides to the point of making you mindless. His cock pulled inside of you at the sight of the two bloody letters graved into your skin, his eyes rolling back as he buried himself deep inside of you, releasing his cum in your womb. His body trembled a little and he held you tight against him, breathing heavily against your neck. After a few seconds, he looked at you, a small smile stretching his lips as he saw you passed out, sleeping peacefully with his cock still deep inside of you. He whispered softly, nuzzling his face into your neck and closing his eyes, resting against your body a few minutes, before standing up, pulling back on his clothes and cleaning you up as best as he could. Then, he kissed you tenderly and covered you with a blanket before glancing at your desk against the wall, smirking as he saw the cute teddy bear he got you as a gift. He walked to it and took it in his hand, staring at one of the eyes of the stuffed animal and winking at it. It seemed like he now had a really good video about you both, which he would certainly watch when he missed you... His sweet and dumb doll.

#x reader #anime #afab reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #ghostface #ghost face #ghostface smut

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roronoagem · 4 months

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐈𝐃.

characters: strawhats + portgas d. ace + trafalgar d. water law

content warning: genderfluid reader (any prns), general fluff + not proofread.

a/n: hello !! this is very self indulgent, as i am genderfluid myself lol. i thought why not sharing as someone else might find comfort in this or anything, so yeah this is why we’re here — not one of my best works ngl, but as i said i mainly wrote this for myself sooo. i hope you’ll enjoy it & that you guys are having a good day <3

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘.

would tilt his head to the side and try to understand.

“you change name?”

“nope, i just use any pronouns.”

“ooh! alright. i’ll try it right now!”

“guys! [y/n] said to use all pronouns, they… look cool,” he tries, frowning a little. “and he’s the best! she’s smart,” he added then, being sure to use all of them.

is actually very attentive about it and reminds the others to use them all if they keep using the same ones.

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎.

“okay. like he and she together in a phrase?”

you nod and watch him thinking about something.

“[y/n] is smart and i like his fighting style and… her face is cute?” he tilts his head to the side, waiting for your response.

“you can use they too, like… they are cute,” you suggest, smiling at him for the effort. “right, my bad darling.”

zoro is very good at switching pronouns and seems to do it without thinking >_<

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈.

“whatever my sweet darling desires! i’m gonna make him all their favourite dishes and kiss her lips and–”

you giggle and interrupt him, or else he would just keep going.

reminds the rest of the crew about changing pronouns frequently when talking about you, he wants you to feel comfortable and accepted and most importantly, yourself.

this is your family, after all.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈.

she catches on pretty easily.

uses all of your preferred pronouns, even asks you if you prefer he or she or they for the day.

i see nami getting paid by whoever keeps using the same pronouns over and over again as a punishment or sum.

she’s no joke.

𝐔𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐏.

super supportive !!

you know what, i think usopp would genuinely buy a pin with the genderfluid flag on it and put it on his clothes, stating proudly that his darling is genderfluid.

has not trouble using any pronouns in the same sentence.

if he knows you feel like using specific pronouns for the day, he goes on correcting whoever is talking using the wrong pronouns.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑.

would genuinely ask more about the genderfluid stuff.

because he wants to learn, and be as supportive as possible.

“i’ll try my best and use them all!”

he, in fact, did use all the pronouns.

jokes aside, he constantly reminds the crew that you use all pronouns — they’re well aware, but still give chopper the satisfaction, you know?

𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍.

“oh, i’ve heard about genderfluid people.”

robin makes sure to ask you what pronouns you prefer to use from time to time.

she wants you to feel accepted and comfortable, that’s the least she can do.

avoids gendered terms if you’re more comfortable this way.

would kindly reminds to use all pronouns.

( alr, this ^ is referred to whoever is not part of the crew )

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐘.

“my [y/n] is super! they’re super! he’s super! she’s super!!”

yeah he uses them all the time.

but you can say if you prefer one in particular, don’t worry.

he would inform the others, pretty loudly.

i believe franky would be careful to use non-gendered terms, just like robin.

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊.

is a bit confused, not gonna lie.

but he’s keen to listen and learn !

uses different pronouns easily, and asks if he’s doing alright and if you’re comfortable.

i think he would avoid gendered terms too? idk . .

𝐀𝐂𝐄.

“that’s amazing! . . what does it mean?”

you have to explain better, but ace is smart he catches on quickly and goes on trying to use all the pronouns in one sentence.

reminds the whole crew that you’re genderfluid and that they should use any pronouns with you.

i genuinely think he would stick to non-gendered terms too, but would use boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever too if you want. ( hope that makes sense lol )

𝐋𝐀𝐖.

would listen seriously as you explain and come out.

“do you want me to avoid gendered terms? i can tell the others to do the same if you’re more comfortable.”

genuinely wants to create an accepting and comfortable environment for you to be yourself *cries*.

pss pss . . . law would buy a genderfluid pin too — and he has the audacity to think you wouldn’t notice.

would kindly remind the others to use all pronouns.

( this one ^, in fact, works for the crew too /hj )

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transmasczeroone · 5 months

Text

On coming out as trans:

I live in a very middle-class, Christian, conservative area, so I was bracing myself for the worst when I decided to come out publically to my co-workers and customers. (I work in a restaurant/bar that attracts a particular demographic: Imagine middle-aged ladies coming to brunch, older men coming for a pint after work, families bringing their children and dogs, most of them white, wealthy, and cishet. For context, I'm also 5 ft 4, and pre-everything, with a gender neutral name that leans towards the girly side, at least in my country.)

The first co-worker I came out to was a low-level supervisor, a gay cis guy in his 20s. He was a bit confused at first, had to ask a lot of questions to understand exactly what was changing, but ever since then he has been unconditionally supportive. He volunteered to tell the other managers that I'm trans, so I didn't need to go through the stress of that conversation multiple times.

The rest of the managers/supervisors (all cishet) at some point or another said that I can go to them if customers or other staff bother me (which hasn't happened at all), and all get my pronouns right most of the time, and are quick to correct themselves when they don't. They even go out of their way to use affirming language - one of my co-workers realised one day that that were no women on shift at the time, turned to me and said something about it being a boys' club and included me in that category. They celebrate my small wins, and the big ones, everything from "nice haircut!" to "ohmygod you're going on testosterone soon?? I'm so happy for you!!"

One of the managers - a cishet woman in her 50s, and the one I expected to have the worst reaction - asked a lot of questions to better understand me and offered to introduce me to her friend, who is also a trans man. This is a big deal to me, because I don't know any other trans men in my area. According to my co-workers, she's better at getting my pronouns right than almost anyone else.

Another cishet guy I work with is in his 60s had to ask what my he/him badge meant when he first saw it, and now he always makes a point of getting my pronouns right, especially in front of other people who she/her me based on my appearance or who need a reminder.

The male customers I serve on the bar tend to ask what the badge means (although some prefer to stare at it in confusion and not comment at all). My usual response is, "It's to remind people that I'm not a girl, since a lot of people think I am," which omits a huge chunk of the truth, but isn't a lie. I've never had a bad response, though.

When I explain, they often say, "Wow, I never would have guessed you were a man" (ouch, dysphoria) and apologise genuinely and quite profusely for calling me "she" or "sweetheart" or whatever earlier in the interaction. They're eager to assure me that they meant no disrespect. Some even notice the badge and apologise without having to ask what it means. Nobody contradicts me, nobody is sarcastic or thinks I'm joking, and nobody has ever said anything transphobic to me or asked invasive questions. Some get confused and sort of gloss over my explanation, but nobody has been hateful. Sometimes they seem to accept me as a cis guy, other times they're clearly aware that I'm trans, but it doesn't affect their response either way.

The worst thing I've encountered is customers who see the he/him badge, blatantly ignore it, and then misgender me throughout the interaction. Not ideal, of course, but far better than what I was expecting.

This entire experience has reminded me of a time I read in a comment somewhere that transphobes are a very vocal minority, that transphobia feels like it's ramping up recently because transphobes know they're losing the war and are screaming in a desperate attempt to be taken seriously. They're scared that all their fearmongering and hatred is, in fact, getting them nowhere. Maybe there's some truth to that.

As I said before, I live in a conservative, middle-class area, and there are no queer bars, bookshops, etc. for miles and miles, but there are at least 3 churches within a 15 minute walk of my house. And in the 5 months I've been out publically, the worst transphobia I've faced from a co-worker or stranger is just them not using my pronouns until corrected.

I'm not saying don't be careful when you come out. I'm not saying that things always go well. Sometimes they go awfully, and I've had my own bad experiences.

What I am saying is that my faith in cis people has been restored to quite an astonishing degree, that sometimes people can surprise you in wonderful ways, that there are people out there willing to accept and respect us, and sometimes you find them where you least expect them.

#transition #coming out #trans #transgender #transmasc #trans man #trans boy #trans guy #ftm #zero.text #transmasculine

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inkybloom-luv · 6 months

Text

"But you're still pretty..!"

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Somehow I am still alive!! Uhm!! I tried my best for this one! @midnightmah07 requested this randomly on a post so I hope you like it!! Took a while but I think I did well! Enjoy! And for anyone else reading this, requests are still open please check my rules for more info! All my writing works can be found under the "Inky's works" tag if you would like to check them out! Please tell me if I missed a tag susbsjsnsb

Request: Leona, Ruggie and Kalim with a S/O who has pimples

Tw; none that I'm aware of! Mention of bullying (maybe?)

They/them pronouns used!

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Leona Kingscholar

When Leona made (Name) play his pillow for a nap he didn’t sign up for them not paying attention to him at all. Sure he didn’t outright tell them that was what he wanted but should that not be a given so he could relax with them in peace? He watched them through barely opened eyes as the used their phone camera to inspect their face, or more specifically their pimples, he guessed. He let his mind wander for possible reasons, it didn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that perhaps (Name) was insecure. So now he had to think of a way to start working on the issue, to get the insecurity to go away, even if it was only temporary. They were laying on soft earth at the moment and it was calm enough that (Name)‘s guard was down so.. flick!

With a barely there thump the phone landed on the floor, not the slightest bit of damage on it. In barely a moment Leona pulled them down with him, right to his chest, with no chance of escaping.

“Stop looking at yourself like that, you’ll turn into that skincare obsessed Blondie. Besides, there’s nothing to stress over in the first place herbivore. Those things will go away, I’ve seen them enough on those idiots (read; Savanaclaw students) during training. Don’t pick and you’ll be fine.”, he said and paused, taking a deep breath and getting comfortable before continuing “Anyway, you don’t need to think about that right now, considering you should have been busy being a pillow instead, so you have to make up for that now..!” And with that he fell asleep again, well, he pretended to, just to see if his diversion worked and yes, it seemed to work just fine. He stayed awake a little longer.. but once they were napping, he slept a bit too.

Kalim Al-Asim

“Ooooo! What are you looking at? Did you try something new with makeup?” Kalim asked as he came over to their desk in class, wondering why (Name) was inspecting their face, only for them to shake their head no. “You didn’t? Is something about your face bothering you then?” He asked, which was correct. They didn’t exactly want to admit to Kalim that they were feeling insecure about their pimples, especially since there were one or two Pomefiore students eyeing them that day. Still, Kalim was not someone you could just lie to that easily, especially since he already caught them inspecting their face for the nth time that day. So, (Name) decided, they had to be honest. They should be honest, Kalim did not deserve to be lied to anyway. So they told him that they were feeling bad about their pimples and that said pimples were bothering them. It took him a moment to realise what they meant because really he couldn’t think of a reason that they should be insecure. Sure the Pomefiore students really sucked but they didn’t know (Name)! Therefore they were not entitled to have an opinion about their looks!

He furrowed his brows and pouted at (Name).

“Why are they a problem? I don’t get it.. you look pretty anyway!” And after that, he stayed silent. That is until he got an idea.

“I know! How about we get a facial together?? I can ask Vil for recommendations on Salons and we can have a spa date! I heard facials can help with skin problems so if you really want to get rid of them, let’s at least make it a fun date!” Kalim suggested, kissing their forehead immediately after and giving them a hug. Yes, a date like that would surely be wonderful.

Ruggie Bucchi

Silence followed their statement. (Name) was upset that day and when their boyfriend Ruggie noticed and asked, albeit in his usual teasing tone and followed by his signature giggle. Of course once he realised that maybe it was a bit more serious than that he once again repeated his question but more serious this time.

“I mean.. I guess my pimples are really bothering me lately because they’re just so.. you see them yourself, you get it, right?” (Name) said, which Ruggie nodded at, raising a hand to his chin to think.

“Well.. don’t see why they bother ya, cause you’re still good looking with or without them.. but my Grandma’s got a face-mask recipe somewhere, my mom had bad skin growing up I’m told.. won’t be fancy but if you like, we could make that together

once I get the time to call for it.. buuut my service isn’t free, shishishi~” He teased as he ruffled (Name)’s hair, which made them roll their eyes but nod anyway. They knew just the way to repay him after all, so a small favour like this wasn’t a big deal in that way, but it meant a lot to them. And maybe they didn’t hate their pimples as much as they thought, after all, if Ruggie didn’t care, why should they? Soon Ruggie was off with a quick bye bye kiss, leaving (Name) feeling impatient as they waited and prepared for their little date, smiling to themselves as they formed an all too familiar batter into shapes as oil heated up in a big pot behind them.

#inky's works #twisted wonderland #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #twst ruggie #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim #twisted wonderland kalim #leona twst #leona twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader

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cherrylovelycherry · 4 months

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Hi! I love how you write angst and it is perfect whenever I crave for some.

As I am into an angst spree, and i saw your requests open, could I request some bittersweet angst? I don't really have any ideas lol but maybe with Zhongli? Or Diluc? Al Haitham is fine too, haha.

Another name

pairing. zhongli x gn!reader cw/genre. some bittersweet to pure angst, no comfort, begging, toxic relationship, do not imitate. masterlist! requests open! note. Hi Anon, here is what you requested, as you didn't specify pronouns I opted to make them neutral (easier for me to make them with "You") I hope that's ok and that you enjoy it. By the time I finish writing this I feel I've made it more angsty, I hope it's still ok, sorry.

Things were obvious to both of you, or at least to you. It was nothing new to know that he was with you only because of the physical resemblance to his previous deceased partner. The worst part of it was that even knowing the situation, you loved him too much to leave him.

You were sitting next to him, while he was combing his hair. Suddenly he called you by the name of his previous partner, not for the first time.

"My name is Y/N…you know that, don't you?" you said to Zhongli, by the correction he apparently got annoyed, to the point of ignoring you but not just for that day, he ignored you for a whole week.

He started to become distant, almost as he always did when you repeated or contradicted his words. You tried to think at first that he was just busy.

Now you found yourself walking leisurely through Liyue; it was a quiet afternoon. The breeze was blowing, the birds were singing, it was nice. Zhongli saw you, but avoided you. You had no idea that he had passed by because you were busy in your own little world.

You missed the caresses he gave you a week ago, before you corrected him. His warm kisses on your forehead and the pats on his head. It was strange that he ignored you for so long, normally it was over in hours, like two months ago.

"I'm sorry." He said, hugging your waist from behind, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

You had just fought about something he mentioned, you got a little upset, but didn't comment. Seeing you uncomfortable, he got annoyed too, and everyone went to a different part of the house.

And here he was now, pressing soft kisses on your jaw and the back of your neck, his hands caressing your waist.

"Ah, it's okay, Zhongli." You spoke, turning to see him and giving him a small kiss. He, of course, smiled at the action.

Oh, how you wanted it to be like that this time.

Later, you returned home, Zhongli was already there.

"Zhongli, please don't ignore me." You approached with hesitant steps to the couch where he was sitting while reading a book.

Zhongli raised his head to look at you. You couldn't tell what he was feeling from his serious face. "Come here, sit with me." He spoke, putting his book aside.

That was a breakthrough, at least he responded to you. You moved closer and he grabbed your hand as he made you sit next to him. With another hand he began to stroke your hair gently. "It's okay now, I'm not upset anymore." Zhongli said, finally mentioning his former partner's name again as he continued the caresses.

You felt a lump in your throat, your body tensed as you heard him call you by that name, again.

"Zhongli…" You started to speak, your mouth feeling dry. "…that's not my name." Inside you were afraid that he would be annoyed again and ignore you, but you couldn't, you needed to tell him that that wasn't your name.

"…" Zhongli's hand in your hair tightened, instantly stopping the movement. You exhaled tiredly, you were starting to get fed up with the situation.

"I'm afraid to say this isn't working." He said, pulling his hand away from your hair, his tone was distant and with his gaze fixed on the wall.

"Huh?" you blurted out in surprise. "What do you mean?" feeling your body tense.

"That this isn't working." He said again. His gaze was now fixed on you and his tone was firm and distant.

"I can't even say I'm completely happy here with you because it's not true. I still love the person who looks like you but is no longer here."

"I-" Zhongli's words echoed in your head. "No, you don't really mean it…do you?" your voice cracked as you spoke. You were getting desperate, you couldn't let yourself break up with him, you loved him too much.

"I'm sorry, it was a mistake to have thought this could work. I see clearly now how different you are from her." He exhaled, getting up from the couch.

"…" You felt your life flash before your eyes. Reacting just as he got up from the couch, "No, please-" Hesitantly, you moved towards him quickly. "Please, let's not break up, please."

Tears soon began to fall from your eyes, the lump in your throat beginning to form into small, suppressed sobs.

Zhongli just stood there, saying nothing. He looked at you with a cold and firm countenance.

You, in an act of desperation at his firm resolve, knelt before him, grabbing his legs in an attempt to keep him from leaving. "Please, Zhongli, don't leave me-" you spoke, sobbing.

"I'll let you call me by her name, please don't leave."

Zhongli seeing you like this, felt some remorse, seeing your great despair reflected on your face, he merely sighed.

"I'm sorry, but no." He said, moving forward and releasing the grip you had on his legs.

"Please, Zhongli, don't-"

Everything was happening so fast now. Watching him advance to the door you got up from the ground and followed him. "Don't go, please, I beg you…" Your words were cut off by crying. You repeated the same words, trying not to let him cross the door.

Zhongli stood in the doorway, analysing everything he was doing. He did not turn around, nor did he make a move. He just said; "I'm sorry…goodbye."

He walked out of the house, never to return.

You tried to run, but ended up tripping over your foot and fell to the ground on your knees. "Please don't leave me-"

"Don't leave me, Zhongli…" You sobbed, lying there on the ground, slowly crumbling to pieces. You didn't care if people heard or saw what was happening.

You felt your head explode, this couldn't be true, maybe you shouldn't have complained about what he called you by a name that wasn't yours and never will be yours. You felt guilty for his departure.

"Why are you leaving me, come back" echoed in your mind, watching his figure wander through the streets of Liyue.

"What should I do without you, Zhongli?" you murmured, letting the tears continue to wet your face, making no attempt to wipe them away.

note. Never repeat what you read. Never beg someone.

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact #genshin #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader #zhongli #angst no comfort

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