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#i almost never cry its only ever because of them that i cry...
1980ssunflower · 1 year
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aouhhh 🥺💖💙🥰
#ot3: ❤rhyme💛easy💙#tape entry circa 1980#ngl ive been feeling like a bit sad like... i just miss them sm hfdjks#i just wish so SO soso so badly that i could go home to them both back in the 80s#to be w the loves of my life but ALSO to have someone i can talk music to and we can just talk abt music for hours <33#i can just talk abt it to them and theyll completely understand and give their own thoughts abt whatever song/band/album im talking abt#and id love to hear them go on long insane rants abt their own favorite albums and for them to show me a new album they listened to#something theyd know i like cause we love the same music genres#fuck i just miss them so much... they understand me more than anyone and get along w me more than ANYONE#i couldnt even try to imagine a person who better suites me than them even if i tried to create the perfect person for me#they just ARE already the epitome of perfection for me like we were made to know and love eachother to get along so well to be inseparable#i love them... god i love them both so much just thinking about them always makes me cry#i almost never cry its only ever because of them that i cry...#i miss them so so fucking much i keep thinking about them throughout the day#just imagining me being w them to be able to kiss and hold them and show them just how much i love them both#actually today i was picturing them here w me which is something i never do#i just love and miss them... i feel lonely and just ah... idk i wish i could go off on an adventure w them rn#i want to escape the life im living rn and just run off on the road w them chasing after our dream of being rockstars#tbh id also just love to experience the train together and get to see all that crazy stuff yknow? would make good song writing material lol#idk i feel like i cant truly get into how much i truly love and miss them w/o sounding super depressed and pathetic tbh#so i keep holding myself back from really expressing how i feel abt them
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todayisafridaynight · 5 months
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i'll probably be skipping stream today & tomorrow on account of my personal challenge to finish JE before you (<- absolutely not going to happen)
but while i'm here SHUT UP your headcanon is not icky :) though i can't really talk since i don't bring my own up very often either, and i honestly haven't even put that much thought into the logistics around it. anyway trans masato 🤝 trans wagi as personal coping mechanisms
DAWG you gotta finish it... idk how long youve had it but prob longer than me cmon now gamer i know you can do it ✊
trans masato is just funny because Like Everything I Do it just started as me joking about scenes from the game and then the ending happened and i was like Oh Lol It's Not A Joke Anymore I Think
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I DONT USUALLY SUBSCRIBE TO TRANS HCS EITHER THAT WHY IT ICKY TO MEAJLWKJL but thank you. i promise to only mention it once every five months
#snap chats#to put it bluntly i Do Not like acknowledge. That aspect of my life. if me never even saying terms outright is to go off of LMAO#i cry thinking about it- like right now LMAO I ALMOST DID I HATE IT i dont like using hate but... thats one of five things i hate for sure#My Issues Aside Tho ive already talked about 'my logistics' with trans masato but ill say them again cause its funny#1.) The Injection Scene like it's for his. Adrenaline or whatever but the first thing i said when i saw it was an injection joke#because literally how could i not LIKE LMAO THEY SERVED IT ON A PLATTER#and then there's the whole Change His Entire Identity After Running To A New Country#i always joke about wanting to do that so that's strike two buster#and then to top it off when he comes back he looks like every transman ever before the effects of T start taking effect#which is a hilariously ironic statement to make considering The Before And After but lol strike three bozo#AND THEN STRIKE FOUR WAS HIS WHOLE 'i changed my name and body' BIT LIKE DAWG YOURE ALREADY OUT#IK ITS IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED UP 'FOR POWER' BUUUUT TOP TEN 'HE JUST LIKE ME FR' MOMENTS LMAOOO#there's also his voice- both in jp and eng- just having a sort of Texture(TM) to it#in jp it's sort of high and nasally while in eng there's a sort of gravel to it that's so 🏳️‍⚧️?????? to me. im sorry.#do you see. that's why it's so funny. its so painfully funny#the funniest jokes are the ones with Some Weird truth behind them by the most delusional bitches ever <- me#ANYWAYS. i promise not to mention it much If Ever only when something really funny happens to me that reminds me of it#and i dont have a sneaky way to allude to it in a comic or a fic#end of the month is always hell for me cause on the one side Yay Money but on the other hand its like I Have To Work For It FUCK#so i can only draw on the weekend#im having a month-long sale for december tho...... so if we never see me again thats why#EW I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE TO DRAW FOR A SECRET SANTA THING TONIGHT NOOOOOO#and i wanted to finish up that fic... cause im literally three lines away from finishing it...#christ i need to learn to juggle better. for now im eating this onigiri that i was too busy to eat#anyway no one look at me im soryr for sharing my cringe </3 i prommy it wont happen so bluntly again
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tojisun · 1 month
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so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly
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thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.
it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.
they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.
it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?
simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”
and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?
if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—
it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.
“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.
“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.
simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…
nothing.
he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.
you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.
simonsimonsimon—
your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.
(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)
you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.
“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.
“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”
his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.
“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”
simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”
he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.
“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”
“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.
simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—
“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.
it’s so good! so, so good!
simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.
fuck! fuck—
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sorta pt 02
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anantaru · 25 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡
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"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.
the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.
he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.
the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.
he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.
he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.
"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.
you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"
that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.
"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;
"i can fuck whoever i want,"
tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.
"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.
you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.
you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.
"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.
childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.
he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.
a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.
your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.
foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.
childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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sea-of-dust · 6 months
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You gotta be kidding...
5wirl x GN! Reader
Summary: They make a reference to something personal between you two while performing live. Almost putting a spotlight on you.
Notes: Modern AU, mention of irl video game and band: Remmber Sports (they're good recommend Tiny Planets),
Warnings: suggestive humor, swearing, never expect proof reading
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He met you before he was an idol. High school to be exact. You two were in the same music class bonding over how much you dreaded your music teacher. "He sounds like a divorced mom.." "isn't he married?" "Exactly" you flop onto your desk
You two have been in almost every class together years afterward, just so you didn't have to work with a stranger for group projects. People would would find you two around school alot and walking home together. "And they were roommates," one of your classmates giggle as you two casually hold hands while speaking to eatchother, in reality, you both didn't notice
He was always so calm but also somehow could smell your problems?!? "Ughhhh" "Lemme guess they chewed gum loudly again?" You spring up placing your head back down. "Stop knowing based off my grunts!" "And you're mad at me for not noticing something earlier" "HA!-" "nm it's because I didn't let you sleep in" "...I genuinely despise you"
He started catching feelings midway through your first semester of the new school year. You did notice he sometimes hugged you tighter, looked at you a little longer, he even got small trinkets for you, noticing how fond he looked when you casually wore them.
It was by the end of the year he had told you he got a scouted as an idol, it took alot for him to tell you but it worked thank god you didn't ditch him like he thought.
"So uh..." "?" "I got scouted" your eyes widen, he thought all his fears came to life before you hugged him tightly and squealed. "I TOLD YOU YOU HAD A NICE VOICE!!" "You didn't have to yell" "Shut up you cry over stuff like this!" Now you were the one that oddly knew things about him...you were right...he did cry...alot like the whole group knew the next day.
The group try to hype him up into asking you out. "DUDEEEE COME ON THEYRE NOT GOING ANYWHERE" "I can ask to hangout" he mutters holding his phone in his hand "COME ONNN" venti and heizou sync up kazuha speaking up "ask them to go for dinner" his cheeks turn pink almost instantly "UH MAYBE NOT COME ON- WHAT IF-" "and sent" "WHEN DID YOU TAKE MY PHONE?!" "You'll live" Xiao rolls his eyes as aether bickers with him, his phone noti goes off. "Sure what time?" There's a silence in the room as Xiao gives him the phone. "At 4?" "bet ☆" you and those star emojis how are you like this. "ITS A DATE!!" "YEAAAAAAA" they sounded like a frat house.
He gets all giddy on that date and when you two finally go on one you finally hit the maybe were dating phase but you both don't wanna admit it to eatchother. So the rest of 5wirl planned something for you two. "Alr we know he likes them nowww...." "we...." "Why don't we perform for them" "on their friend ani?" "How do you know that..." they turn to heizou "because he saved it on his calander" "..." and so they planned out your ani for you two.
And so their evil plans acted out perfectly, you two went out on another date and later that day you dropped him off at the concert. What you didn't expect was heizou dragging you to a seat. "Stay right here and don't move alright" you watched them get on stage aether seeming to be looking for you, they get to performing when one of the lyrics hit you. "Hey why don't you meet me at four?" An almost slured pronunciation followed by aether finally finding you. His eyes so tender yet teasing. You felt your heart skip a beat a small wink only making you more bashful.
To think the performance would end there nope. As you tried to get off your seat aether greets you with a cheeky smile a small ring in his hand. You turn around quickly. "I guess I flustered you more than he ever will" he leans on you wrapping his arms casually around your waist while you continues to fluster you. "He was just a small crush..." "enough to have you gush for 4 months about it" he laughs softly kissing you cheek. "When did you even gain this much confidence" "small words of advice" your mind immediately goes to Heizou. "Alrighty then..." without a warning you pull your face closer forcing him to slouch over you. "Did heizou tell you what to do incase of this situation aswell?" Thank god that concert hall was almost empty and the seat you were at made it almost impossible to see you two because the next thing you see and hear are a bunch of idiots going YEAAAAAAAAAAA. Aether x y/n shirts and a poster held up by Xiao. They ship it.
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You made cute accessories! He's seen your work on social media and reached out. "You're accessories are so cute do you have a store?" "Nah I only sell locally near my college" turns out you both went to the same college he's never did a double check so fast in his life. As soon as he saw you he cupped one of your hands, his eyes sparkling in pure joy. "GIMMIE EVERYTHING IN STOCK!" "HUH?!"
Number one fan he's following you around. He'd be your personal advertisement always wearing your stuff and flexing it to others. He WILL be the most annoying person on campus
When you tell him to stop he just kinda tilts his head until he realizes what your saying as if he finally loaded. "Oh! Alright!" That's when you make an almost massive mistake "I did enjoy your support tho but youre-" "SO YOU LIKE HAVING A FAN?!" And so began the simping. He's all over you. Every class your with him? He's leaning into you, whispering random stuff in your ear. Your eyebags got darker everytime he did this but he was more chill than your online fans.
The days you also leaned into him are the days you've never seen someone more flustered. "Hm?" You lift up your head watching him cover his face quickly. "Venti?" He turns away from you even more. "Don't look at me! Where did you even learn that-" "I mean you do that to me all the time" "don't say it outloud-" "did you just whimper?" He stops suddenly using is braids to cover his face as he mumbles to himself. You bring that up to traumatize him
He had to get used to you showing affection, you weren't even dating yet! Come on, don't do this! Even a small smile he'd tease you for it but he'd definitely scream into his pillow about it.
He only asked you out when you made your feeling for him known. A small note under his door telling asking him to meet up at an amusement park later that weekend was where it clicked he looked and sounded like a little girl you could hear his "YEAAAAAAAA" from your room.
He's doing everything he's on a call with the others he just needs them to hear his my story animated from start to finish. "Can you not play that effen punk music main stream shit can barely hear you" "Shut the fuck up hot topic this is important!" "This is why you fucked up your eyeliner" "I DID?!?!" He checked in his mirror realizing he didn't and mostly argued with Xiao. "If they ditch you you deserve it" "quit being a downer! Good luck Venti!" They all mostly wave at the camera before hanging up leaving you and him alone for the evening
He loved it. He was like a child pointing at things he wanted. "Do you have the money?" He looks away pounting "not an actual question I'll play for it" his eyes widen almost sparkling. You two left flexing your carnival game knowledge and venti covered in plush prizes you won for him.
As payback for the newfound plush army, he invited you to a concert. "Oh so you did have money" "Shut up" "hehe" your teasingly small laugh is so cute stop doing that. What you didn't know is that he strapped some keychains you made on his belt, and he NEVER STOPPED WINKING, if you had to drink everytime he found you in the audience and winked you'd have five drinks...per song. It was cute seeing him smirk whenever you slightly blushed at him.
"Y/n!!" He smiles as you wait for him outside the concert hall. "Lets go to another amusement park!" He giggles embracing you "right now?" "Yea!" He nuzzles his face into your chest "sure..when you take off all of those keychains Jesus how much did you-" "200 bucks" "...VENTI" "THEYRE CUTE I KNOW YOU EYED THEM!" You blush slightly smirking "I did...they look adorable on you" you struck him right in the heart leaving both of you flustered. "The amusement parks a few blocks away" "LETS GO!" as if it never happened you both headed to the amusement park.
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You beat him at a rhythm game he liked. You got first in a video game event he liked since then him he's declared you his rival. "Who the hell is this guy getting in the way of the number one spot" he grits his teeth checking your profile. "347 full combed songs...300 all perfects...and maxed out cards" he rolls his eyes
He wanted to let off some steam at an arcade only to find out he got beat in that game also! With the same name tag as the rythum game champ. He nearly smashes the machine when he notices you step up to it. "Shame, this games kinda better when I'm kicking someone's ass..." You sigh only now, noticing him, smirking at this chance you take it. "You mind playing this with me?" You perk up. Thinking this is a good way to let off steam, he accepts. "I won't go easy." "Alright!" You let him pick the song and almost immediately grab the handbar
Strange, he thinks he doesn't need it. As soon as the song starts, he hears your feet absolutely slam on the board. He's shocked but doesn't look over he's focused on his side of the screen. By the end, you huff heavily, looking up. "You won." You put your fist up for a fist bump. "Ah that songs so annoying~" he dosent give you one back putting in his names for national ranks. That's when he noticed that you put in the name the person on every rythum game had and as soon as you pressed confirm he nearly pounces on you. "SO YOURE THE ONE TAKING THE NUMBER 1 SPOTS EVERYWHERE!" "Yea what about it-" he looks at you angrily, calming down a bit before turning back to you. "I declare you my rival" "well...If you wanna we could rematch sometime gimmie your number?"
Ever since then you two have skeduled days to go to the arcade to whale on eatchother and going out to eat afterword. "I'm pretty sure you'd like it reminds me of your face ☆" you say as you point to a horrible cgi skeleton. "Screw you" "heh". You'd eventually open up to him more and invited him out to places more often. He didn't wanna say it outloud but he genuinely enjoyed those moments
One of the times you two went, you try to teach him gutair hero, he kinda mumbles to himself. "You can just play on your lap" "hmmhmm mhm em You can't be this msm hm" "what-" he realizes he said that outloud and covers his face nearly dropping the gutair. "I didn't hear that last part" he sighs in relief "but do you think im cute?" And so he's even more ashamed of himself. "Context clues" you scratch your cheek in a bit of embrassment "I think you're pretty cute too" you embarssingly laugh leaning away
you're pretty sure you could see his heart skip a beat as he looks up at you, his face nearly entirely pink. Peaking at you through his hand. You decide to tease your friend. "Seems like you wanna date me~" He moves back quickly, covering his mouth to hide his blushing. "I'm fine with that ya know~" you lean into him him still covering his face. He looks away looking back at you,his eyes softening "I'm fine with the thought of kissing you..well maybe a little more than fine but-" your words were cut off as you feel his lips touch yours. Quick yet soft, his hands wrapping around your shoulders. You lean back trying to catch your breath "...how long have you've been waiting to do that?" "...a few months now" "That's kinda adorable Xiao" you lean in for another kiss. You two recount that day as your first date
Ever since then he's more willing to hang out a little more clingy too. Whenever he had a show he would ask you if you were busy that day before sending you the ticket link. "Hey are you busy on the 14th?" "No why?" He'd send you the link without a secound thought "you know I'm not really into idols that much" "I'm in the group..." "...bought"
He actively looks for you in the audience. You would text him where you were sitting beforehand, yet he'd still look like a lost puppy. As soon as he finds you, his eyes sparkled. He forced himself to calm down before giving you a small wave
It was by the end of the show where he was performing the last song and you noticed something about their dance it kinda looked like what you would do on a song you knew well. It was then that you realized Xiao made a dance routine inspired by your sweaty gaming dance. You covered your face in embrassment but peaked through your hands. You couldn't believe he paid that much attention to you. He smirks noticing this
As the show ends, he runs over to you, "That was...a little embrassing" you blush a bit. "..." "dosent mean I didn't like it tho!" Trying not to offend him further you mumble on of how great the performance was. At first he's pretty stiff with his arms crossed you'd think he was annoyed till he kissed you again leaning in to hug you. "I'm glad you liked it" he whispers ever so softly in your ear.
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He offen saw you working on projects for bands he likes and decided to commission you. He invited you to a studio and you both began to focus on what he commissioned you on. "I'm looking for something calm yet something someone would listen to in the morning to wake them up..." "hmmm" you play a calm chord progression on your gutair. "Speed up a bit" he taps his foot as if keeping pace as you speed up your playing. "That's pretty good! Sounds like a Remmber sports song" " YOU LISTEN TO THEM?" "Yea?" "Oh my god I thought you wouldn't catch that-" "they're a bit of a guilty pleasure"
You two always worked together after that whenever he would be lost in thought you'd just play hall of the mountain king behind him. He'd turn around slowly as your playing got more intense. "You think of something?" "..."
You pretty much became 5wirl's offical gutairst after kazuha recommended you. They'd make fun of him for how long you two stayed at the studio together. "Kazuha~, you left us sleeping in the shopping cart again!" Venti grins ear to ear "must really like that gutairst." Kazuha smiles."They're just a friend I find it easy to get along with" he thinks about what you two were talking about his eyes softening as if it were an old fond memory "and he's doing it again" heizou sighs jokingly
A few months of performing together, they treat you as family, almost apart of 5wirl. As soon as Kazuha ever left the room they'd turn to you in a heartbeat. "You sure you don't kiss when we're not looking?" "Eh?!" "Does kazuha usually get all mumbly around you" "he does but-" "I KNEW IT" "dose he show you his unironic leaf collection" they all lean in expectingly. "No wha-" You made sure kazuha was too far to hear what you were about to say "...OK so this one time..." they listened to you like their lives depended on it.
The day you told them about that is the day you regret the most, they always looked you and kazuha up and down. Snicker to themselves. "How much you wanna bet they might kiss today" "CAN YOU TWO CUT IT OUT" you let out a sigh walking into the recording studio to practice, a familiar humming following you in a few secounds later. You two sing together and when you finish he finally speaks up. "You know... this the song I was playing when I first realized I was into you" "heh really" you stop strumming, realizing what he said "wait what-" he laughs softly at your reaction placing a hand on your cheek. "That songs kinda special to me..." he holds your hand tenderly with his unbandaged hand. "Reminds me of how much I love you" your eyes widen a bit as he looks at you with the most soft eyes. "I love you too kazuha" you smile gently, letting him lean in to kiss you
All of them noticed you two were dating it was odvious, the way you two acted around eatchother gave litterally everything away. "You two give eatchother less personal space than before are you dating?" "What?" "And you smell like him-" "how do you know what he smells like" "so you're dating?!" "How did you come to that conclusion?!" You and venti would bicker trying to hide your relationship with kazuha after he forgot to tell you he already told them.
Finally a show came along a small gig surprising a popular idol group would show, but still nice. You looked at the music sheet for the song looked up at him, sighed, and looked back. He looked so pleased giving you a few riffs and you look down to see another reason to go to therapy.
What he didn't put on hell on paper was a very veryyy familiar cord progression. He played it himself and put it in post. Making another version so if you ever asked you wouldn't notice, and a few weeks later they went live
You watched them in the audience, hearing the song you helped on and felt your smile fade into a straight face as you heard your solo along with the memorable melody gutair. He saw this trying to avoid a giggle while performing, he's suffering from you brainrot the rest of the show, some fancams caught him getting kicked by heizou or Xiao.
"So how did you like the show~" "Xiao almost kicked you off the stage..." There's a silence. "He dosent kick hard enough for that...but at least you enjoyed it" he smiles, pinching your cheeks and rubing your face, you look away hearing him giggle at your behavior. "I'll make you a coffee-" "don't you dare make a reference" he smirks at you "hehe"
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You were online friends usually playing main stream games or random stuff you found. Youd always play together though, never single player! He hates that
"Are you playing a single player game..." "no-" "LIAR ITS ON YOUR STATUS" "SHIT- I mean I have no idea what your talking about" "...atleast stream it" he always got all pouty when he couldn't play with you
He'd definitely randomly interrogate you because you found something out on someone you both knew. "IS IT ABOUT-" "shush shus shu stfu quiet" "oh come on dude what is she gonna hear you?" "We're in a public call" "oh...LMAO" "DUDE"
When you combine both these loves, his love for you playing a co-op detective game with you has become the best thing for him to ever experience. "Who will be first to solve this?" "We're supposed to work together heizou" "oh...oh 😏" "nevermind I'm gonna play hitman without you" his avatar suddenly turns to face you and emotes a shocked reaction "OH COME ON"
He started catching feelings for a while. Ever since you two got on a call for the first time, your voice kinda intransted him. "Your voice Is so nicee" muttering into the mic yet you heard him clearly. "Thank you?" "It really is" its like you can see him currently slumped over his desk just day dreaming about you.
Didn't stop your offline friend for teasing you about him too. "Ooo he's into you~" "nuh uh nope nope!" The tips of your ears turn a pink. "And you like him back might aswell seal the deal" "STOP IT!" Blushing heavily you slam your hand down. Unsurprisingly Heizous in a simular situation 4nemo teasing him over just how much he talks about you. "Ohhh they're so cool" "they smell nice" "stop mocking me" he huffs "then get with them" they say in sync "stop weirdly harmonizing" he sits down covering his currently pink face.
Didn't help when you two first saw eatchother. "What the hell you live so closeby" "I know right what's next you're at my favorite Cafe conveniently the next table over" you turn over your shoulder seeing someone smile at their phone turn back and type "you mentioned before you had moles under both eyes right?" The persons face dropping looking around."Yea?" Without typing back, you walk over sitting infrot of him. "Bro, someone's sitting at my table, hold on" you smile at him typing back "oh sorry lemme just leave then my mistake 😔" "WAIT HUH?!?!" his eyes widen as he grabs your wrist "y/n?" small tears forming in his eyes pulling you into a hug with desperation. "Heizou" he hugs you tighter when he hears his name come out your mouth. "You're as pretty as I thought you'd be..." patting his head as he nuzzles into your chest. "You wanna go back to mine after this" "Yes!" With sudden enthusiasm, you two talk about your irl lives while bullying his drink of choice. "Pumpkin spice.." "oh my god shut up my again" "it's nasty" "it's good to me!!" "Shut up mom with 2 kids living in a van"
He's been going to your house at least once a week now "we should play together" he overbites his lip "I barely charged my secound controller" you overbite your lip back at him "then let's just hang out then I got news bby" visibly cringing at that last bit you let him in with him near instantly showing you a picture of him being accepted into an idol group. "Ohh you're gonna have real fangirls now" "Shut up!" "I'm gonna lead them just to make fun of you" "you're the only fangirl I'd date" "..." You visibly cringe "OH COME ON" "HAHAHA"
And so you were invited to the hell known as a debut concert and dear god was it near impossible to not be as hype as the crowd. Especially catching the fancams with him winking at you. Anyone could tell he was super inlove with whoever he was winking at especially after the group stopped in between a song witch you were barely paying attention to until you heard "I hope you guys never have to play solo!" Could have swore you felt him glare at you "speaking of solo the next songs title is-" all you paid attention to yet you look like you just woke up from a really loud noise.
"Y/n! Did you see it! Did ya like my moves" he smiles at you like a happy little dog. "It was surprisingly great Heizou" "surprising huh?" He pouts as if saddened by that comment. "But the show was amazing Heizou I'd go again" that bright glow of a smile you had is something hell never let go of, without hesitation he holds your hand "marry me" "come again?" "I mean it we should date!" Accidental slip up. He's screwed, you're gonna reject him so blatantly he's never gonna bother you again. "Heizou...that's so sudden" your eyes meet warmly "but I've been thinking the same" kissing his cheek you walk off letting him process what just happened. "WAIT WAIT WAIT YOURE NOT DITCHING ME AFTER SAYING THAT" "MAYBE I AM!" You had to run home that day but it was worth it laughing at him trying to keep up.
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blkkizzat · 7 months
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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals
Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.
A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.
Enjoy!
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“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”
Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.
Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!
Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.
Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 
A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 
Choso breathed in deeply. 
A wave of calm washed over him. 
Peace. 
Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 
It was beautiful. 
Blood was beautiful.
The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.
Like a painting. 
A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 
This was his art.
Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 
He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.
Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 
Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 
It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 
From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 
He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  
Choso was meticulous in his process. 
Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 
His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 
Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 
Almost midnight. 
Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.
He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 
In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 
The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.
No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 
You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 
“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”
“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 
Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.
With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.
“Ladies–” 
However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 
Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.
“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    
Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 
They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.
“Choso!”
You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.
“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 
Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.
Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 
If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.
“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.
Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 
You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.
You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 
This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.
“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.
“Duh Choso–” 
You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.
“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”
Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 
Of course he knew about the party. 
The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 
However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 
He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.
“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”
“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 
“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”
Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.
“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.
But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 
“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”
You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).
Choso swallowed. 
On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 
The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 
Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.
“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.
He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.
“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 
The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 
With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 
He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.
He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.
“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 
You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.
You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 
“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 
Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.
“But I’m not alone silly!” 
You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 
They looked absolutely miserable. 
“I have my pledges!” 
Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 
“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.
Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.
“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.
“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”
You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.
As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.
“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.
It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 
You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 
You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 
Shit. 
Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.
You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.
Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 
His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.
Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 
Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.
He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.
Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.
“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”
“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 
Really don’t. 
Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.
He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.
“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 
He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.
You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 
Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.
“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”
Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 
Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 
‘Thank God!’’ 
‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’
‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’
‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’
‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 
‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 
–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 
You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 
Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 
He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 
He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 
You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 
Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 
You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 
Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 
He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 
Also you did have a boyfriend. 
An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.
Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 
He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.
Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.
Twice. 
The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 
Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.
It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.
He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 
You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?
You would make a beautiful death painting too.
Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 
The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 
Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?
Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.
Fuck. 
He was hard again. 
He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.
God, he was pathetic.
The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 
You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.
He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 
You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.
Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 
You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 
You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 
Surely you had the wrong classroom.
“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.
“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.
He looked at it and back at you twice.
“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”
Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 
Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 
You didn’t look like you would last.
Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.
You proved him wrong though. 
You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 
You were also a hard worker. 
It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 
You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 
The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.
Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 
Choso put a hand over his face. 
He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.
Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.
It was making Choso a bit reckless. 
Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 
He had to move more carefully. 
Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.
“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 
You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 
Speak of the devil.
You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.
This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.
“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.
“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”
How could he forget?  
However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 
See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 
But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.
“Oh and sorry!” 
You interrupted his thoughts once again.
“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”
Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 
At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.
He would never know any peace.
“Keep it as long as you need.”
“Kay!”
You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 
“Oh Crap!” 
You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.
“Y/N, Watch out!” 
Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.
“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 
You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.
Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 
He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  
“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.
You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.
“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.
“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 
“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 
“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 
Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 
Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 
And so he does.
Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.
You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 
Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  
You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 
You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.
Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 
Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 
You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 
Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.
“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.
Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 
Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 
“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 
No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.
“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 
You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 
You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 
“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 
Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.
“I- that is.. I meant-”
Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 
“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.
“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.
“Hey!” 
Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.
You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 
You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.
Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 
You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 
“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.
Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 
You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  
Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.
If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–
“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 
“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.
“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.
Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 
Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?
“Uh hey, Dean I..” 
You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 
His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.
“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”
Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 
Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 
Tch. 
With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 
This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.
Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.
Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 
You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 
You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.
The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.
“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 
“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 
Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 
You could not let this turn into an incident.
“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”
A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 
Just her T.A.
Right.
Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.
He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 
Not anymore.
“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 
Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.
You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 
You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.
“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”
Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 
Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 
Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 
“W-wait Cho–”  
You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.
“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 
Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 
Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 
However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.
The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
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A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.
ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13
comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories
Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!
PART 2
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Note
Adam hcs but the third time IS the charm
The moment his girlfriend heard about what happened to his past wives she vowed that she'll be the best lover for him, and she delivered
Please, give this man a happy ending because I need to see him happy
JSD;GDZF i wanted to do this sooo badly when i was writing the harlot reader HC's AND NOW I CAN RAHHHH fr tho the amount of soft adam ask are seriously making me giggle and spin around my room plz keep sending them. If you haven't read it, ask is referecing this post
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You and only you | Adam x Fem!Reader
Relationship: Romantic Warnings: NONE ADAM JUST ADAM AND HIS LOVELY GF (you)
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You didn’t know why Adam was so clingy. From the moment you woke up, Adam was around you. 
Not that you didn’t enjoy his attention, you relished it. However, he was ever clingy, and hovering over you. It was beginning to get overstimulating for you.
It took you to the point of almost snapping and asking him what his deal was. Instead, you took a second to calm down and talk to him. It didn’t take long for you to get your answer.
“Adam, please. I just need a moment.” You say, rubbing your temple with a hand as you push your boyfriend off of you with the other. He whines and pouts as he moves across the room, no longer near you. It took you a bit to realize that he was in the corner, only realizing it when you heard a sniffle. You look at him, concerned. “Baby? What’s wrong?”
You make your way to your boyfriend and bend down to the floor. You try to peek at his face, but he turns away. You notice that he used his hand to wipe something on his face and put your hand on him to comfort him. He doesn’t say anything, as he begins to cry a little more audibly now. Alarmed, you touch his face and turn him to look at you. Now facing you, you see that he has tears running down his face, his nose runny and red. Wiping away his tears, you look him over.
“Babycakes? What happened?” You coo, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. He avoids your gaze, finding the floor interesting as you pull his face in closer, trying to get an answer. With a huff, possibly out of embarrassment, he answered.
“I just felt…similar to how I felt before Eve ended things.” You looked at him stunned. While you had been dating for a few years, you both never inquired about your past relationships. You and your ex-husband ended things healthily, willing to say hello as you passed one another. Adam knew that there was nothing between the both of you. You never had to explain to him in detail what happened, just that your marriage from when you were alive was no more. On the other hand, you knew nothing of Adam’s relationship with Eve or even Lilith. You obviously never met Lilith, only hearing about her from word of mouth, but Eve was nowhere to be seen. All you know about his relationship with her is that she was the one who initiated the divorce. “'m just scared you’re going to leave too.” 
You pull him in for a tight hug, shocking him. He takes a moment before hugging you in return. You both hold each other for a while before he breaks it. Sniffling, he rubs his nose and looks at you, the soft smile that was reserved for you on his face. You give him one in turn and hold one of his hands.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He does, he tells you about his relationship with Lilith. How in the beginning, he wasn’t the massive dick he was (to which you think at least he is self-aware) and loved Lilith. Both of them were headstrong, yet they loved one another, or at least he thought they did. When it was revealed to Adam that Lilith had gone behind his back and formed a relationship with an Angel, causing them both to fall, he was heartbroken. 
It took the angels promising him a new wife to even get slightly better. But by the time Eve was born, Adam wasn’t the same person and didn’t treat Eve as he ought to. Not that he abused her, but he wasn’t the nicest to her. When she proposed the divorce, it still hurt him. He knew that the relationship was on its downfall, but he didn’t think it was to the point of no return
He confides in you about his insecurities, and how he believes that he is the reason for his past relationships' downfall. How no matter how much of a dick he was, he didn’t want to risk losing you.
You spent the whole evening holding him as he bore the very essence of his being to you. Becoming the man he once was, before he died, before Eve, and before Lilith. He cried like a baby that he never was, and you were there to soothe him.
That night, as you both held each other in your arms, you couldn’t help but make one wish to heaven and the stars. A wish that you didn’t think the heavens could support alone. You wished for the help of comforting Adam, restoring his broken confidence in love.
From that day on, you vowed to be the very best lover that Adam ever had. 
You figured out that his love languages were words of affirmation and physical touch, so you set out to do small things for him. Giving him small gifts, kissing his cheek when he wasn’t expecting it, and complimenting his body. 
You encouraged him to have more conversations about what was bothering him, giving him the space to open his chest whole for you to glimpse into his essence. 
Eventually, he began to return your actions by complimenting your love languages. He was even less of a dick, which allowed some of the saints to actually hold a conversation with him. 
Through your love and work, he was slowly becoming a better version of himself.
You fixed your outfit and hair through the mirror. Both you and Adam had gotten into the routine of having date nights, some in your shared home, others out at a nice restaurant. Tonight was a night that Adam had planned all on his own, just telling you to get ready. You were done getting ready, now waiting for your boyfriend. 
“Adam!” You yelled to him, who you assumed was in your bedroom. “Are you sure we are going to make it?”
“Relax sugar tits,” He says, entering the living room. He was dressed similarly to you, wearing a maroon color that matched your outfit. Long gone was his mask, now showing his handsome face, his scruff trimmed and his hair slicked back. He had a thin jacket for you and his regular leather jacket draped over his arms as he walked up to you. Kissing you on the head, he looked at you through the mirror as you looked over yourself once more. “We will get there. Reservation isn’t for another 45 minutes.”
You turned to look at your boyfriend, taking in his features. You brushed off some imaginary dirt off his shoulder as you placed your arms over his shoulders. Resting your forehead on his, you let out a breath.
“Sorry. I just…don’t want to be late. This the nicest restaurant in heaven, and I don’t want our evening to be ruined because our table was given away.” You say, closing your eyes. You feel Adam move his head as he kisses for forehead once more and lifts your head to look at him. 
“Don’t worry about it. Even if our table is given away, we can always have a lazy night in.” He puts his hand on your cheek, a touch you lean into. You both stare at one another before you lean in for a kiss. Adam smiles into the kiss and puts his other hand on your waist, pulling you in. You hum and try to stop the kiss. Reluctantly, he pulls away from the kiss, his lips now red and glossy from your lip stain. “Or…we could fuck the restaurant and just do each other.”
Wiggling his eyebrows, you laugh and hit his shoulder.
“No. You planned tonight, and I don’t want to miss it.” He shrugs and backs away a bit, no longer pressed up against you. Grabbing your hand, he begins to lead you out of your home. You talk with one another as you leave, you unaware of the box in his back pocket, inside a ring of your favorite gem with an engraving on the band.
‘You and only you’
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also so sorry ig he is OOC 😭😭😭 everytime i write him, he strays further from canon LOLOLOL
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dawndelion-winery · 1 month
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Just A Taste
Kisses and more (it was not just a taste)
Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Dottore, Wriothesley, Zhongli
Warnings: 18+, mdni, making out, Dottore being Dottore, teeny bit of Dragonli
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Alhaitham:
Alhaitham's kisses, unlike his words, are gentle
Such is the way his lips find yours, soft to the touch, and every bit respectful
So much so that he always manages to catch himself as he leans in, biting his lip as he stares at you
His brow furrows in frustration with himself as he stops just short of kissing you, barely whispering a heavy "May I?"
When you assent, he finally leans in, eyes closed, palm on your cheek
Sweet, brief kisses (always at least three)
Of course, it's different if you initiate it
His hand finds the small of your back and pulls you closer, holding you in place lest you run off
If you're in the mood to kiss him, he'll push his luck for more
This time, he nibbles at your lips instead as his hands slide down from your back to your ass (he squeezes if he's in a particularly teasing mood)
And it's not hard to tell what he wants when he looks at you so hungrily like you're his next meal
Not that he'd ever act on it
Not unless you ask him to
It's almost tormenting, the way he touches you so respectfully despite so obviously wanting more
And for this, he's terribly fond of having you in his lap to enjoy the view, to see you squirm before you relent and beg him to be a little less restrained
"In that case...you don't happen to have any plans at the moment, do you? We'll likely be here for a while."
Childe:
Messy, wet, and full of teeth and nips
He kisses restlessly, like it's never enough to just be kissing you
His hands are everywhere, on your face, your arms, your chest, waist, thighs, you name it
Ajax kisses you with fervour, as though you're his first and he's trying to impress
His mouth never stops moving, be it trailing kisses across your face, or sucking on your neck, or even biting your cheek
He's always grinning too, like he's watching his favourite show
He very well may be too, with every sound leaving your lips composing his favourite soundtracks
Not that much of it can be heard when he swallows it all so eagerly
It always starts with him sitting innocently beside you too
And then his hand finds its way to your thigh as he inches closer, slipping an arm around you under the guise of a quick cuddle
Followed by a peck to your cheek as he scoots closer still
And of course, it's never enough for him, not when he craves you oh so much
So not so subtly, he rests his chin on your shoulder as his lips creep towards your neck
His movements are casual, almost lazy, and it would seem that way if not for the way he caged you in his embrace
Kiss him back and see how quickly his hold gets more playful, his hands start to wander more, grabbing and squeezing at any expanse of flesh he can reach.
More than anything, he loves murmuring praises as kisses you, as though the kisses engrave his affection right into your skin
"Mm, just a little more...I love you..."
Dottore:
He's a biter
He gets so nippy with his kisses that people worry for you
I mean, they're already worried because it's Dottore you're dating, the cuts and grazes that litter your skin only fuels their concern further
He likes it a little too much though, relishing the sight each time he adds new marks to the mix
It's like an art to him, and he wonders how many he should leave, how deep they should be, before he makes them permanent
He's very aware that you're apprehensive to him being so...violently inclined, so he contents himself with this much
Even then, he knows exactly what gets you ticking, the way your eyes flutter shut as he holds the nape of your neck to keep you from pulling away when he kisses you breathless
And while you recover, catching your breath while your mind is numb, he makes quick work at your neck and shoulders (your chest too, if enough of it is exposed)
His teeth, ever sharp, puncturing bruised skin just before he kisses it better
Cry if you will, he'll only stroke your face, his lips dancing gently across your features until the sniffling stops, and then he's right back to marking you
His hands do wonders to coax you into letting him do as he pleases each and every time
Painful as it gets, he's quick to rub soothing circles on your thighs or back, whichever is more convenient for him to hold you in place
"Hush, my dear," he mumbles against your cheek as he kisses your tears away. "You're not done so quickly, are you?"
Wriothesley:
Wriothesley kisses you with all the desperation and longing of someone dying to be in love
More often than not, he's pulling you in as you pull away for air because he's not nearly done
It's taken so much out of him to be this vulnerable with you that he can't imagine not wanting you and it shows. Very much.
You can barely pry him off you once he gets started, which is pretty funny considering how he almost seems averse to touch in public
But in private? When you drape yourself over him and kiss along his jawline so tantalisingly?
You're just begging for trouble
And what luck for you that he excels in dealing with troublemakers
The wall, his desk, they're all convenient surfaces to hold you captive for your sentence
He's quite partial to having you on his desk, though, since it's so easy to rub his hand up and down your thigh no matter how much you squirm
And then he can simply press his forehead to yours, muttering about what an attention seeker you are and sighing that you leave him no choice
He's fooling no one when he's practically grinning ear to ear as he leans in to capture your lips again
"Can't even keep your hands to yourself for a minute? I'll give you something to hold onto then."
Zhongli:
You'd expect him to be patient and gentle with his kisses
And while, yes, they are sensual to an extent, there's a certain amount of desperation to them
He's lost so many people over the years, mortal and immortal alike
The latter being worse on him because he had been so certain he'd have enough time with them
So for you, someone so dear to him, to be mortal...it's frustrating, to say the least
He tries so hard to maintain his human form but he really gets carried away sometimes, the urge to just give you the teeniest of nips with his long canines getting the better of him
His lips find yours hungrily, and when you turn you hear for air, he simply moves to your neck, your jugular
He loves feeling the warm pulse of your blood rushing through your veins, it's like sand trickling through an hourglass, letting him know he still had time with you
His lips never leave you until he's had his fill
His hands are, in fact, gentle, like a skilled potter, caressing you as sweetly as he thinks you are
You're so fragile, a mere human, and oh the things he might do to you if he were just some big bad dragon but you're just too precious to risk
His fingers dance across your skin like he's trying to paint you, fingertips feeling almost talon-like at times, but always lightly
Zhongli who wonders what your worship would feel like, but anxious he might enjoy it a little too much, pulling you up from your cosy kneeling spot so he can hold you properly
"I'm not your deity, now am I? There's no need for that, my precious, let me feel you."
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animeshotsh · 2 months
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Life in heaven | Various x Kid!Reader |
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Alternative universe and events - How does kid!reader live in heaven -
Kid!Reader has their memories from their life in earth and hell erased. They only know their name and that they died.
Emily its the one who shows them around, she is soft, friendly and wants to help kid!reader adapt to heaven life. She notices how confused they are so it makes her personal mission to help this soul.
She felt a bump in her heart when they took her hand and called them "big sis" because something in the back of the mind of Kid!reader tells them Emily reminds them of someone.
When showing around heaven Emily ends introducing him to other winners, Kid!Reader has to do a double check in when they notice a pink and white winner....
Emily decides Kid!Reader must meet Saint Peter.
When meeting him Kid!Reader stood there not saying anything, making Peter sweat, Kid!Reader its stuck seeing the blonde hair and light blue eyes.
Next thing they know Kid!Reader has jumped into Peter's arms and huggs him like their afterlife depends on it.
After it, Kid!reader wants to stay at the gates with Peter. No one knows why, and they tell them, they need to rest.
"Then, i will be back tomorrow"
And thats what they do. Its a routine now, when a new winner arrives Kid!Reader its on Peter's shoulders welcoming them. Sometimes Peter has problems fiding the name of the newcomer so kid!reader helps him.
Peter smells like cotton candy and Kid!Reader never tried it before. Peter takes a few hours free to go and enjoy some with Kid!Reader
When walking around heaven Kid!Reader avoid the exterminators, specially one that has no arm and gives them the most cold look ever.
Emily seems to have a sixth sense because she is there to back them up and take them to a safer place.
Emily does not know who kid!reader was in hell, only some high rank angels does, thats the reason they removed their memories and they feel shame for kind of sent a kid to hell when they did mean to go to heaven.
One day Emily tells kid!reader she wants them to meet a centrain newcomer.
Sir.Pentious almost faints when seeing you. But he soons sees that you dont remember a thing and its devasted because of it. He adopts you as his new lil relative. Uses his tail to carry you around, buys you sweet and does go with you to visit Peter.
He also begs that you can live with him (something you accept a full floor was making you feel lonely) and Sir.Pentious its in cloud nine.
The first night he ends cuddling you with his tail. He knows how much you mean to Charlie and the rest, so he is going to protect you and care for you from now on.
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
Down in hell
Charlie has been depress since you died, Vaggie has tried to cheer her up, to make her continue her dream.
"How can i offer salvation when they killed (Y/N) like they were nothing? They dont care about us"
Lucifer has go back to his castle where he passes his time making ducks, crying and playing the violin. He stares at the photos he took of you and cries more. He cant forgive himself for letting you die.
Alastor its like his old days. Hunting whoever and whatever comes near him. He causes chaos in the city. Decides that he had enough of the stupid TV specially when they show footage of his fight and your death. The empery of the V's its destroyed in one day, and Alastor gets stronger after he consumes their bodies and souls.
No one can mention your name. No one can enter into one of your rooms. They are devasted and broken.
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chococolte · 2 years
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☼ — osculatus solem
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my take on sagau/cult au zhongli, reactions to first meeting you/as a worshiper + reactions to being your lover
word count. 4.2k
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationship, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au shit, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. im sorry if tense is weird im kinda dumb lol
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Zhongli has waited for you for six-thousand years.
It wasn’t until he was faced with you that he realized how cruel the wait was. Six-thousand years of patiently waiting had never felt like grueling punishment until he realized what he was deprived of. Like a man starved, he had grown used to the numbness of constant hunger— he found it almost comforting, as he had lived his entire life malnourished. He lived unaware of what it was like to have a full stomach.
Your presence is primeval. It emanates, and it overwhelms all else. When Zhongli looked into your eyes for the first time, he finally felt complete. He was finally where he was meant to be. Finally with who he was meant to be with.
The scripture had described you in detail, but there were only so many words, so many different ways to speak of you. None of them could compare to how you looked in person, standing in front of him.
Your eyes hold all the knowledge in the world. Constellations and stars shine within them, a myriad of stellar tapestries formed within the small reflective surface of your eyes. Past, present, and future dance inside, moving according to your design. You see all. You are all. Everything that is, and everything that will be, is you. Every burgeoning bud, blooming flower, roaring wave, and colossal beast; you are every death, there in every mournful cry and scornful glare; you are every mortal life and every god.
You are the sun that brings warmth to Teyvat, the moon that caresses its tides, and Zhongli wants nothing more than to worship you for it.
Zhongli was not always your devout worshiper. He was once, like all of his temperament, rebellious and spiteful. He refused to believe that all of his victories in battle had simply been part of your design. Just a single thread in your grand tapestry.
His triumphs were his, and his alone. He won by his own virtue, will, and vigor. He won by his own hand, spear, and stone. You did not aid him in his wars. You did not save anyone worth saving. Zhongli watched his allies die, slip through his fingers like grains of sand— and he would never thank you for what he endured. He promised himself that if ever faced with you and your faux benevolence, he would demand answers from you. You owed him that much. A recompense for all the hardship and injury he had sustained.
Zhongli, in his youthful hubris, did not care who heard his blasphemy, and whether they thought it distasteful or not. He was the god of war, and would allow no being to silence his voice. Zhongli bathed in his rage, wallowed in it; he would not allow himself to believe what others so easily indulged in. Ignorance led way to arrogance.
Guizhong had always been of the opinion that you were a kind, gentle god. She argued that your light could not be quantified, nor labeled; just because you did not act in ways he could see, did not mean you did not act at all. You breathed life into the abandoned, the lost— you embraced those without a home, without purpose. You forgave and you pardoned, and you rained down fury on those wicked and vile.
Zhongli had long grown used to her arguments. Every victory of theirs, despite the tight grip on his weapon and the ichor on his blade, was attributed to you— your grace, your blessings. By your grace you allowed them one more day, by your blessings you allowed them one more triumph. Zhongli thought her pitiful; you had done nothing to deserve her kindness. She worshiped you, and what had you given her in response to her devotion?
Guizhong died in his hands, and he had nothing to show for it. Helplessness ate it's way at him, through his flesh and bone. What was left was nothing more than a husk, a parody of a god. What was once anger at authority transformed into righteous anger at the one who made him. You allowed him his victories, to parade around with pride and vanity; you gave him your blessings, benediction and approval, and yet you let the one who meant the most to him die. The one who worshiped you above all else.
Why did he live over her? He did not appreciate you. He did not worship you. He made no offerings, nor did he pray. He did not believe in your salvation, neither did he ordain your will. But he was the one left behind with the sorrow and the guilt, and Guizhong was the one turned to dust. Why was he chosen?
Zhongli knew that asking questions was meaningless. You would not deign to answer. Maybe it was to be expected. Why would an Almighty God answer to a lower being demanding answers far beyond their comprehension? Why should you have to explain yourself, when you saw all? Zhongli was merely the god of Geo. You could take even that from him.
You were the God of All. The Primordial One. No being had authority over you; not even one of the Seven.
It was only in the light of Guizhong's death that Zhongli had finally begun to understand her perspective. He might’ve been alone, but that did not make you cruel. It did not mean you were unable to be kind, tender and loving. You loved as much as you breathed— the world was showered in your love for it, in the wind that caressed its people and the sea that fed them. Your love was in its bountiful harvests and its gentle rain.
You loved just as any other, but Zhongli had long refused to see it.
He started small. Gestures of devotion hidden underneath many layers of misty glass, only clear to those who looked hard enough. Zhongli had postured to those still with him that he no longer minded if they worshiped you in his presence. If he was feeling particularly daring, he would join in and mutter a small word or two of thanks. Perhaps he thought of it as a way to make up to Guizhong after so many years of his disapproval.
Though he may have found it unbearable at the beginning, he soon began to pray to you in times of need. He looked for you when he found himself in need of counsel, forgoing the people around him. He made offerings in your name when there was a drought or a shortage, praying for your guidance. Even if he did not initially believe that you would truly respond, the comfort it brought outweighed the logistics. If there was no one else he could turn to, he still had you— and you would never forsake him.
Zhongli started to find your answers in the strangest of places. An arrangement of flowers in some botanical garden of some odd scion, the conversation of two orphan boys that shed a new perspective; a tale that seemed almost catered to him told by a storyteller at a tea house. Perhaps he was imagining things— he surely would have thought so a millennium earlier. But were they truly coincidences, if they only happened after he had prayed and offered at his altar for you?
If it was the Zhongli of old, he would have said yes. But the Zhongli of new knew better now: it was you, speaking to him through indirect means. You answered his prayers and accepted his offerings. You forgave him for what he had done and the things he had said in the past.
Liyue was modeled after what Zhongli believed you favored the most. Its jagged cliffs, jeweled karsts, cuihua forests, and vibrant plant life; sculpted and molded to fit your tastes. He sometimes daydreams of showing you his life’s work— would you like it? Would you tell him he’s done a good job, that he had done enough to please you? If you found it distasteful, would you tell him why? Even if it meant tearing the land asunder and usurping the earth that tethers it to its place in the sea, Zhongli would change whatever it is you dislike immediately.
Even if the problem was himself. He would happily bow his head, whisper one last plead for forgiveness, and take his own life. If it was your will, there is nothing he wouldn't do.
When Zhongli meets the Traveler for the first time, he is frozen in place. His heart drops to his stomach as he sees the gleam of your existence in their eyes. It's you. You're here, in front of him— he wants to kneel and worship you the way he's always wanted, but…
Why is it them, and not him?
Zhongli knows he shouldn’t be jealous. It’s a blessing in the first place to meet you like this. It's a blessing to know that you're real. But he can’t stop himself from lying awake at night, thinking of what it would be like if he was the eyes through which you experienced this world.
It’s an ugly feeling. A twisted, nasty feeling. It leaves him feeling bitter in the morning and sick whenever he sees the Traveler walking through Liyue’s streets. He assists them on their quest, because you are there with them— watching him through their eyes. He hopes to leave a good impression, to assure you that there is no problem with him; perhaps, that is why you did not choose him? Because he was faulty in some form?
Hours upon hours of self-reflection spent in dark, locked rooms. Zhongli stays there, looking in mirrors, searching for reasons why. He looks at his mortal form and wonders: is this why? Did you want him to serve you as the Geo Archon for longer? Why not him?
Was he not enough? Was Liyue not enough? You are never wrong, never incorrect— the problem lies with him. But no matter how long he looks, he can't find the reason. He's better in every way. Better in his devotion for you, better in his worship— he would kneel until his knees turned raw and skin gave way to bone, he would pray and sing your praises until his throat bled. He built Liyue with earth and stone, and cracked the land until it was worthy enough of a formation, molding it with his hands to please you. He had changed himself until he was deserving of your forgiveness, until he was worthy enough to worship you.
The voice in the back of his head tells him it was because he once hated you. Once, when he was a fool and a heathen, he spat on your good name, derided it with disgust. Zhongli thought you forgave him for the sins of his past. He thought you still loved him despite it. He thought he had purified himself long ago, but perhaps he still had some rot left to root out. What part of him wasn’t perfect? What part of him wasn’t enough for you?
Zhongli knows he’s only being ungrateful. You’ve done enough for him. Who is he to demand more?
REVERENTIA ; first meeting/as a worshiper
Zhongli did not know what to do with himself when his eyes laid on your figure for the first time.
You were beautiful. Resplendent and illustrious. When you spoke, crying out so timorously, he shuddered involuntarily. He clasped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to steady his breathing, but your voice was infectious. His heart felt heavy in his chest as you looked at him with wide eyes.
Nothing could compare to your stare, to the life that swirled within your eyes.
Zhongli knelt, then, his head hitting the floor. His shoulders trembled with tension as he kept them taut and straight, keeping his posture as poised as possible.
His first words to you: "Welcome home."
Whether your reaction was volatile or not, Zhongli is at your beck and call. He waits on you hand and foot, staying by your side and keeping close. He acts as your shadow, following your orders, even simple commands, as if the result of his failure will be death. Zhongli is aware that your current form is weaker, mortal in nature; but when you ascend once more, he wants to be known as the one who never doubted you, never thought of you as lesser because of your current circumstances.
Zhongli, despite his worship of propriety, is still prone to decadence. His hands as he helps you dress linger for far longer than they should, brushing against the soft skin of your shoulders. The tips of his gloves burn from where they've touched you, and you notice him wearing them less and less often, now.
In Zhongli's eyes, you are never wrong. You stand at the pinnacle of righteousness, justice and light; anything you say is gospel. He commits all of your opinions, even of the littlest, pettiest things, to memory. His personal thoughts on the matter are meaningless, now— if you dislike it, then it's bad. Simple as that. If you find something enjoyable, then it's good. If your concept of morality is twisted and murky, then he will morph his own to match it; there is no internal struggle, no hesitation in his thoughts and behavior. Your will is all that matters.
When in your presence, Zhongli is perfect. He is courteous, gentle, and benign. He never does anything without your explicit permission. He brews you tea, and tells you anything you wish to know. He worships you with so much vigor it's hard to deny him.
Outside of it, he is barely hanging on by a thread.
Zhongli doesn't know how he lived without you before. He feels vaguely sick even thinking of going back to when you were not present. Just a moment without you is hellish. Every step away from you is like walking on scorching coal. It is an agonizing pain, one slow and tortuous.
He has never felt such pain before. The mere thought of leaving you by your lonesome sends him into a frenzy powered only by his desire to stay by you. He is willing to tear anyone apart should they stand in between him and his god. He can't leave, not when he isn't worthy of your forgiveness yet, not when you're so fragile in your current form.
Every night he rests only barely. Every morning he rises with relief, knowing that once more he is allowed to bask in your company.
Perhaps he's still driven by his insecurity, by the idea of you thinking him unworthy of you.
Zhongli speaks of your grace and elegance, of the light you inspire; he tells you how long he's worshiped you, how long he's loved you.
He tells you of his devotion, of the offerings he's left at your gilded altars, jewels and the finest riches. Zhongli brings them directly to you, now, with an uncharacteristic bashfulness.
He tells you of the wars he's fought in your name, of the blasphemers he's slaughtered— though, conveniently leaving out that he used to be one. Zhongli hopes you're proud of the things he's done in your name, that you will finally embrace him, utterly and wholly.
In the dark of the night, when doubt and searing loneliness so clearly bite at his mind, Zhongli walks to your room. He never dares to walk inside, always conscious of your privacy— but he kneels outside your doors with muted footsteps, only the soft echo of ruffling fabric to accompany him.
He mumbles into the gelid floor unintelligible prayers. He listens for your breathing, for assurance you're still within reach. His unrest is barely abated each time.
When he is particularly nervous, he stands by your doors until morning light, shoulders trembling with unease until you rise from your slumber.
Zhongli is fearful. His muscles are tense as he whispers pleadings that you stay, that you at least say goodbye, should you leave again. He fears one day he will awake and you will be gone.
He fears that he will be left alone again, once more without the tenderness of your guidance. Back to when he had thrown you away, when he only knew of bloodshed and the weight on his shoulders.
You freed him from his self-imposed shackles, whether knowingly or not.
Only when he's assured you're safe will he allow himself peace and serenity.
Only then, will he finally rest in the only paradise he wishes for: being by your side for eternity.
VENUSTUS ; as your lover
Zhongli has always loved you. By virtue of your holiness and sacred being, he has always loved you as his god. As his guiding hand and light, sculpting him into the Archon you want him to be; into a believer worthy of worshiping you.
Faced with your luminous presence, finally able to see what he has only imagined before, Zhongli's love for you only grows. It unfurls like a blossoming glaze lily, petals perfect and serene.
He would never dare presume that his feelings are returned. As his God, you are above him in every way— you are above him in every breath, every step you take. In every slight movement of your fingers, you establish the bridge between you. The line he should never cross.
You are above him. He is beneath you.
Whether it is intentional or not, Zhongli knows his place. He is grateful to be where he is, blessed enough to stand beside you in any capacity. To know that you exist would've been enough, but to care for you personally— to be the one with whom you spend the most of your treasured time with; that is an honor worth dying for.
Zhongli has played with the idea of being your consort before. Of being yours, utterly and entirely. He never lets the thought stay for long. Shame begins to eat at him all too quickly, twisting his stomach into knots of guilt and remorse. He's embarrassed more than anything; of having the gall to dare to imagine himself ever being so important to you.
The thought would've never crossed his mind before, the mere idea laughable. You were untouchable. Above even The Seven, above Celestia. You had not shown interest in any individual for a millennium, and it would be no different now.
But Zhongli knows you now. He's felt the brush of your touch, the zephyr of your breath when he leans in too close. He's felt the warmth running through your veins, the warmth that leaves him flustered, even when you've only touched him for a moment.
The thoughts come more often, now. More vivid. More apparent. You cradle him in your arms, whispering soft words of loyalty and love. You hold his hands in your own, intertwining your fingers, and tell him how you have come to love him. He is special. He alone is yours; no one else.
It terrifies him.
Zhongli is nothing more than your worshiper. He is your servant. He may have been a god, but now he is just your tool. He is content with that much. He should be content with that much. But his heart wants more from you, more than you've deigned to give him.
It wants your love. Your attention. His heart yearns to be special to you; to be the sole holder of your affection.
It's a selfish desire. A nasty one. One that he wishes he could remove, exorcise out of him like a spirit. But every attempt to carve it out of him only leaves him bleeding, and it hurts more to pretend like it doesn't exist. It burns him from the inside out, a fiery jealousy that roars whenever he sees you with another.
It should be me, his heart trembles. It should be me, his heart weeps.
Zhongli is terribly flustered when you begin to show signs of reciprocation. Small things like careful touches, honeyed tones, and words of favor. You compliment him more often, go out of your way to do things that please him; brushing and running your fingers through his hair, listening to him spin tales of old. He is aware that you must know everything already, but you look at him with such big eyes of wonder and interest he can’t help but go on.
He’s barely able to speak when you admit to him your feelings. His heart beats fast in his ears like war drums, his heartstrings tightening as if nocked by an arrow.
It's an uncharacteristic moment of timidity for the wise ex-archon. He's stammering over his words, barely able to keep up his façade of calm. Is that something you truly wish to do? With him?
You assure him— I want this, you say— and Zhongli allows himself to believe you. He follows you when you lead him by the hand into the palace of your heart. He cradles it softly in his hands, gentle and delicate. Zhongli swears to never hurt you, to never let another harm you in any way; but he still fears, still doubts you.
It should be expected for you to have multiple consorts. Multiple lovers, all equally vying for your attention. Zhongli should be happy that you have any interest in him at all— but the thought of being second to another in your heart makes him sick.
Venti, the verdant bard, does nothing but drink. He wastes away his woes in bottles of wine and bourbon; surely, you will not choose him over Zhongli? Ei lorded over her people and took their freedom away. Her reasons do not matter. All for an eternity unreachable by mortals and gods, she attempted to trespass upon your domain. Surely, you will not choose her over him?
The thoughts are foolish. Nearly sacrilegious in nature. He has no control over you; no place to demand that you only love him. But Zhongli has spent thousands of years worshiping you— is it wrong of him to believe himself better than the rest? Venti does not worship you in the way he does, with such fervor or zeal. Ei may pray or rest her eyes beneath your statue, but she has not spoken good of your name like he has, hasn’t hunted blasphemers like he has.
She’d rather her servants deal with them, whenever they so rarely come. Zhongli deals with them personally, knuckles clenched around his blade.
In every way that matters, he is better. As such, he shouldn’t fear, shouldn’t worry of when you will inevitably grow bored— he should enjoy the moments he has with you, the brief time when he is all that you have. When he is still all that you want.
Fear still grips his throat with its tiny, intangible hands. Even if he severs its wrists, it continues to thrive; to suffocate him with its pervasive thoughts.
He must prove himself, it echoes. Or else he'll be deserted. Discarded when another proves themselves his better.
Zhongli won't let himself be thrown away. Whatever he must do to please you, he will do.
Until his mortal form wears down to nothing but dust and bone, until his only coherent thought is how wonderful it is to worship you— until you have no need for anyone else.
Whatever your command is, he will follow. As long as he alone stands in your heart, as long as he alone can kiss the dirt off your feet, he will be content.
He only hopes that he can love you as you deserve.
Zhongli’s zealous behavior worsens to an obscene degree. He never falters in his fervent, almost fervorous veneration— it becomes excessive, almost actorly. Though his obsequiousness appears inflated, it is entirely genuine; he fawns a tad more obviously, smiling with dazed eyes when you kiss his cheeks or lips.
This has always been how he feels. He's only unrestrained, now. And even still, he hides the deeper parts of his worship, the servile and fanatic in him that wants to drool at your lap. It's hard to stop himself every time you sit on your throne to immediately drop to his knees.
Zhongli is happy to give and never receive. He is pleased with being yours, though it never clicks in his mind that the same is applicable to you.
You are not his, but he is yours. If you call yourself his, Zhongli melts. His face blossoms red and it permeates his cheeks for hours afterward. His hands slightly shake and he has trouble standing still in the immediate aftermath. All he wants to do is kneel, and say I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—
If you'd like it, Zhongli would let you do whatever you want with him. Tear him apart with your bare hands, and shred him of any sense; it matters not as long as it's you.
You are everything, your love is everything. Even the softest of your kisses and touches have him breathless and numb, and anything else only serves to make him fall deeper into you.
Only with you is he easy to fluster. Anyone else, and he'd have punished them long ago, if not tore out their eyes for having seen him in such a state.
But it's you. You could crush his heart in your hands, leave him heartbroken and bitter, and Zhongli still would not find it in himself to hate you.
You are the lifeblood that runs underneath Teyvat’s cracked earth, the soft undercurrent that ties it together— and, if only you'd let him, Zhongli would worship you for it.
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astarioffsimpmain · 5 months
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Consternation
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Astarion x F!Reader
Warnings: Explicit violence; gore; mentions of abuse
Synopsis: Astarion realizes that Cazador is no longer his worst fear
Author's Note: This is my first ever Astarion fic, and I have to thank the members of the Astarion fandom that I have met thus far. This fic would not exist without your encouragment. <3
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It was foreign to him, this fear. This icy chill that rattled his bones struck him deep at the core and unsettled him in a way that had him desperate to both pace ceaselessly and never move again. Oh, he had felt fear. It had been his constant companion since he was taken by Cazador; often his only companion as he writhed in the dark, his eyes open but nothing behind them. 
But this… 
He watched as Karlach carried you back to the campsite. You were bloodied almost beyond recognition, your heartbeat barely reaching his sensitive ears. It was his fault. You and he had argued last night; it was petty. He had been petty. He used the words that he knew would hurt you, and you, too spent after a grueling day to see through his act, had retreated to your own tent to seek out sleep in painful solitude. But sleep had not come. He'd seen it in your eyes this morning when you emerged from your tent, squinting and glaring up at the sun as though it was your enemy, and not his. 
And when you, he, and Karlach had gone out in search of food and firewood, you had been too slow, too fatigued, and too distracted to guard yourself from the attack. Orcs. They were a vicious bunch, springing on the three of you from the thicket near the base of the mountain range where you hunted, and while he and Karlach had suffered several minor injuries before winning out, you took a blow far more damaging. One of the orcs had taken you by surprise and bludgeoned you in the side of the head with its club before gaining the upper hand and stepping down hard on your ribs. 
He'd been focused on the orc in front of him until he heard the crunch. The sound was so grotesquely familiar to him that time nearly stopped as he swiveled his head in your direction. No. You lay flat on your back, your body bent in several unnatural directions, as the orc stood over you triumphantly, raising its club to finish the job. Your head lolled to the side and your unharmed eye met his and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. You didn't look scared. You didn't even look angry. He knew that expression. He'd seen it on your beautiful face as the moon bathed you in ethereal glow, the night he confessed his feelings to you. The night he surrendered his mask of flippant indifference and let you see him for who… for what he truly is. You had looked at him with such- such love, that night, so much that he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it. 
But now? Now he would trade the air in his lungs and every day of freedom he had left to be there with you on that night again. He would rather surrender himself to his master than watch you die because of him, and still look at him with love. 
It wasn't even him that had managed to save you in the end. It was Karlach, who had all but rammed the orc off of the top of you before gathering you up in her arms and running back towards camp. He had stood in a useless, pitiful daze, and had your tiefling companion not been there to end the last of the orcs before saving you, he would have been quick to join you at death's door. He remained useless as he followed Karlach back to the camp where Wyll, Shadowheart and Gale rushed off in the directions of their tents to see if they had something that could help you. Lae'zel had let out a bloodthirsty cry upon seeing you, demanding the blood of whoever or whatever had attacked you. Once Karlach told her the story, she posted herself at the edge of the campground, circling to prevent any more surprises. 
Everyone was doing something. Everyone but him. All he could do was sit beside you with his cool hands running over your body, trying desperately to cool you down. Your face was marred nearly beyond recognition, and the blood from your internal wounds had begun to pool just below the surface of the skin on your abdomen, creating angry violet spots all over your soft and beautiful body; the body he had held bare against his not too long ago; the heart he promised to love as wholly and genuinely as he was capable, beating far too weakly inside your chest. Guilt twisted further inside of him. If only he was strong, like you believed he was. If only Cazador didn't haunt his every moment. If only he was truly as free as you made him feel. Perhaps if he was better, stronger, more, he wouldn't have said those things to you. He wouldn't have hurt you, and instead of a sleepless night alone, you could have been wrapped up in him.
But he was foolish; weak; less. And he let his pain seep out like a fresh wound onto you, and now you suffered for it. Up until this very moment he had been under the false illusion that being sent back to Cazador was the worst fate he could possibly endure. How many times did he have to be proven wrong by you before he would listen?! Losing you was the fear he never expected. Losing you was far worse than losing himself, and the realization of that only deepened the already gripping dread in his heart. 
"Please," he whispered softly, leaning over your unmoving form. "Please, gods, stay alive. Even if you hate me forever, please stay alive. Please." His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek and collided with yours. His body trembled as he prayed to gods he wasn't even sure he believed in, wishing for a miracle he didn't really think could happen. What would he do without you? He always insisted that he was his own person, but… was he? Or had he just traded one master for another; the first a master of his body, and the second a master of his heart?
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dancingbabya-notes · 1 year
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"I love someone else"
<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->
Them to you
As a joke your lovely boyfriend decides to tell you that he loves someone else
(Look at that my first post of the new year, ngl I just took a whole bunch of WIPs and dumped them on different days. that might be the path i take from now on because I have 400 notes on my phone and growing)
<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->
Midoriya
When the words came out of his mouth, he was expecting some kind of reaction, you never got jealous and showing your emotions never went past a smile. But he wasn’t expecting to be met with unadulterated silence.
“Did you—“
“Oh I heard you Zuzu, but remember what my quirk is?”
He stopped and smacked his face with a groan. Having the ability to peer into other people minds had its benefits.
Bakugo
He was curious, being around you it was just one feeling all the time. Unaltered happiness. But as the words left his mouth it was silent.
“I- am I n-not good enough for you?” Your voice cracks as Midoriya rivaling tears poured down your face.
It didn’t help that water was beginning to fill the space. Kirishima damn near beat the shit out of Bakugo for even thinking of saying that to You. Eventually focusing on calming you down.
Kirishima
“Oh.” It was the only word to leave your mouth.
He watched as your posture deteriorated and any energy was sapped right out of you. You didn’t bother with anything else and disappeared into your room. Hoping it was all a bad dream.
Kirishima had to worship the ground you walked on for weeks to gain your trust back.
Kaminari
He had been fine. But now he was covered in juice. You weren’t very docile, a flame burned in your eyes.
“Go be with them then, why waste your time with me,” you attempted to strode off and cry in peace.
But Kaminari pleaded for mercy.
Mirio
Your wings fell, but your smile only faltered. “Who?”
As the tears started to roll down your cheeks the mask cracks. Mirio held you to his chest to mask the tears.
It hurt him to play a joke on you like this. He will tread carefully from now on.
Tamaki
Boy had some balls today. Telling you that he liked someone else. Your hands faltered as the needle you’d been using went straight through your hand. The physical pain was nothing compared to what your mental state was at the time.
“Okay, that’s fine.” You muttered pulling the needle from your hand before wrapping it tight.
Tamaki practically prostrated himself in apology,
Todoroki
You almost puked but holding back the bile you didn’t even alter your expression forcing your face to stay happy. But when the words left your mouth the smile broke.
“How could you ever love someone like me?”
He wasn’t sure what to say, he didn’t like that you were sad and that he caused this. Todoroki left and when he returned he had any and everything he found is supposed to help.
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draiys · 3 months
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cardig☆n
you drew stars around my scars
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but now i'm bleeding...
luke castellan x child of athena!fem!reader
genre fluff / angst
warnings spoilers ig, but i kinda went off canon bc i haven't read it in a while (and bc i couldnt bring myself to write it) im sryyy, crying, mentions of being burned (but its not literal), my attempt at angst, kissing, mentions of not being able to breathe (but theres no like choking or anything), open-ended(-ish?) ending
wc 1k
a/n requested here ! i hope u like it :')
my requests are open !
☆☆☆
You used to think you knew everything. 
Sure, it sounds a little conceited, but it’s who you’ve been told you are.
Y/N has a plan. Y/N will know what to do. She always does.
No one ever thought to tell you that it was okay if you weren’t always exactly sure of everything.
And so, you’d risen to it. Always knowing, expecting, deciding. Everything.
But now, as Luke stands in the sand in front of you, rain washing into his curls, you’re not sure you’ve ever known anything.
“They don’t care about us.” He hisses. “Don’t you see that?”
His boot presses forward as he steps closer to you, his calloused hand reaching towards your cheek.
You pause for a moment, as if you’ll let him touch you, and you almost do, but step back quickly after as if his hand is a fire you’ve only just remembered will burn skin instead of a beautiful, twisting, orange arc.
“Y/N,” he whispers, but you’ve stepped back into another place, another time. A memory.
Of the only other time you’ve felt like you don’t know anything, calloused hands that reach for you, and a raspy voice whispering your name.
Luke.
You’re curled into the wall against your bunk, knees pulled up into your chest, tears tracing down your face.
And he’s smiling softly, his hand held out. 
“That is your name, right?”
At your nod, his smile widens.
You decide you like his smile, the way it pushes up his eyes into crescents, and so you take his hand.
He gently tugs you up and out of bed.
“I know it’s hard, but I promise it will be okay.”
You’ve heard that about a thousand times since you’ve arrived at camp, but you think this is the only time you’ve heard it that you’ve believed it even a little.
His fingers rub against your palm, and his hand is warm, and you look into his eyes. They’re warm and glowy and comforting, and you think maybe you’ll manage being in this camp, if he’s here.
Now, his eyes are the coldest you’ve ever seen, and a frown pulls the corners of his mouth down. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you realize you’ve never felt scared of Luke until now.
He shakes his head slightly, and it’s Luke, shaking his head, grinning as Athena’s owl glows above your head. 
“I should’ve known you were too smart for us.”
You scoff, going to push at his shoulder, but he grabs your waist and you fall into his hug. You inhale, his cologne winding around you, and he lowers his head to whisper into your ear.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
You pause, arms moving tentatively to hug him back, chin pushing further into his shoulder.
A wave of emotion hits the inside of your gut, pulling your breath tight.
“Luke,” you breathe, and he pulls his head back to look at you. You can’t say anything, but he understands what you mean by his name.
I’ll miss you more. Please don’t leave me. I need you.
“It’s okay,” he promises, and he tucks your hair behind your ear, wiping a tear from your under eye, and you realize you’re crying.
He leans forward, and his gaze drifts to your lips, and yours drift to his, and suddenly they’ve connected, you’re not sure when that happened, but you pull him impossibly closer. You ignore the screams of the campers around you as you realize you’re kissing him. Luke, who took you and put you behind his back on the first day of camp, who’s listened to all your worries and sobs and laughs for a month that seems like years.
And you finally pull away, the need for oxygen coming up in your lungs, squeezing them because you can’t breathe, can’t think, you don’t know anything, who is he?
Luke frowns harshly, angrily, and you almost trip backwards trying to get away from him.
“I’m sorry,” you say again. But you’re not sure if you’re saying it to him or to yourself. You don’t know who he is anymore. Because this surely can’t be him, not Luke who kissed you and held you while you cried, who taught you to use a sword, patiently steadying your grip, who was the only person that told you it was okay if you didn’t have a plan.
“Luke,” you whisper, and he creeps closer, and you forget about the fire, and you let his lips burn into you.
☆☆☆
It’s been a month since Luke left, and you’ve never felt emptier, even before you met him. You’d been holding tightly onto the pieces of your heart, until he’d come and told you he would keep them safe for you. But now he’s left with all of them, and you’re even emptier than you were before. 
You’re a wreck, skipping meals and staying in bed instead of going to trainings.
You stare out the cabin window, at the starry night you and Luke used to sneak out to go lie underneath together.
There’s a knock at the door, and you stay unmoving, glancing at the clock. Whoever’s got a question for an Athena kid at 2am can come back in the morning. But then there’s a sound that makes you freeze. A short knock, and then a louder, longer, one. Like a heartbeat. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Your special knock, with him.
You’re not sure what compels you to get out of bed, pulling your sheets aside lazily, because it must be the worst idea you’ve had in a while. But you twist open the door, heart thumping like the knock as your breath catches over your throat.
The porch light shines down over the dark figure, face hard to see, but of course you’d recognize him anywhere.
“Luke,” you whisper.
All the coldness that lingered in his eyes is gone now, the familiar warmth taking them over again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry,” he says again, and you wonder if maybe the fire has gone out, and you pull him into a tight hug as he burns you.
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mrsackermannx · 4 months
Text
chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.
so, he does just that.
he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.
sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.
it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“
sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”
a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.
“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”
“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.
he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.
he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.
it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.
“oh…him? think they’re married?”
“i don’t think so.”
that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”
you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”
sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.
no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.
“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“
“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”
the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.
sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.
“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“
“miss-“
“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”
your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.
now you see him, huh?
your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”
your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.
sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.
you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“
the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.
he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”
his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.
you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”
“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.
“oh?”
“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”
“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”
“seafood special last month?”
“yes, and your name?”
for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”
“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”
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crestfallenyh · 11 months
Text
ateez reaction: s/o asking them to stay/not to go in their sleep.
cw: mainly fluff slash angst for everyone and a tiny bit of suggestive content on wooyoung’s part. non-gendered terms for reader. yunho’s one is a bit longer than i intended it to be. basically a self indulgent piece because i’ve been in my feelings as of late.
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07. hongjoong
it was late at night. it was one of those days where the night was so heavy with its silence and lack of light that you couldn’t hear a single noise coming from the streets. not the chatter of the young enjoying the night life, not the sounds of cars passing by, not even the sound of the wind hitting the windows. hongjoong walked down the hallway after running upstairs as silently as he could and finally entered your apartment, half wincing in response to the sharp tingling of his jewelry and the chirp coming from the door that inevitably broke the deep silence the room was in.
he found you sound asleep, curled in a ball on the couch and with a blanket half escaping from your grasp. he couldn’t help but notice the light frown and the heavy eye bags on your face, and the familiar sting of guilt hit him with force. he had promised he would be with you early that night, as he only needed to give the final touches to his newest music but just like many other times, he found himself immersed in his work and by the time he looked at the time, it was already past midnight. he felt bad. the worst part is that you were always so understanding and sweet to him, never taking it to heart although he know how worried you were seeing him visibly stressed and tired. he loved you, truly. for that and many other reasons, but each time he promised he would be with you and failed, he found himself thinking more and more that you would inevitably get tired and leave.
he laid down beside you, holding you close to his chest as gently as he could without waking you up. it was slightly uncomfortable as his back was pressed against the couch in a not so nice position but it wasn’t that bad after all, because you were there. you were finally in his arms and he felt like he could breathe again. he caressed your cheek with his thumb and you snuggled closer in your sleep. he tried to get up to take you to bed with him but you groaned, the frown getting deeper as your arms tightened around his waist.
"stay here a little bit longer, please. i missed you”
hongjoong remained silent, biting his lip and forcing down the small cry his throat so desperately wanted to let out. right then and there he promised to himself he would try harder to be there, for you.
03. seonghwa
if there was one thing seonghwa was grateful about was the opportunity to take his music to every corner of the world and showcase his artistry to millions of people. it had been his dream for so long that now that it was happening, he couldn’t help but tear up at the thought of his younger self who used to watch performances from seniors and daydream about succeeding one day. it was a good life, indeed. but with every good thing comes a sacrifice, and to be honest, it was more difficult with everyday that passed and he wasn’t with you. he had went on tour for almost three months now, and the mere thought of you was enough to leave him with a heavy heart and the crushing sensation of a missing piece.
ever since you formalized your relationship you were used to sleep together everyday, whether it was at his dorm or at your place, you hadn’t gone one day without waking up with his arms around your body and you were nowhere as fine as you'd often say in your texts or video calls in order not to worry him. he was having the same problem, but none of you wanted to make each other worried or make the longing even worse by letting the other know how badly you missed his hugs and he missed the scent of your hair, so the first time he came back, you couldn't help but jump right into his arms and cling onto him despite how tired you were after waiting for his flight to arrive, anxiously pacing on your living room with glossy eyes from the lack of sleep.
his hair was dyed black comparing to the last time you saw him in all his blonde beauty and his body felt different under your embrace, a little slender but more firm, but it was still your seonghwa. the same guy who would hug your hips so tight that you were grasping at his jacket, sitting on the couch, and the same guy who would whisper sweet nothings to your ear while rocking your bodies back and fort to help you sleep. soft, like a wave in the ocean.
"you're here" you mumbled under your breath, not fully awake anymore. it was your way to say just how much you missed him and how much you never wanted to leave his side.
23. yunho
your head was pounding and a silence so heavy had settled in the room after the last couple of hours. you didn’t know where yunho was and it was only you laying in bed. the tears had dried now on your face, but you still felt inconsolable, a different type of dispair running through your veins and making you anxious.
it hadn’t been a good day. it hadn’t been a good day in the slightest and you had just started to realize how messed up everything was. you and yunho had been fighting the whole time he had been at your place, many days of nitpicking and bickering at each other way too seriously for it to be a joke had taken a toll on you and you both had finally snapped. your relationship had gone downhill as of late, where even the smallest of things would make him frown at you and even the smallest of things would make you throw a slightly scathing word at him, making both of you so annoyed so as to forget why you had even gotten into a relationship in the first place.
if somebody were to ask you, you would never be able to pinpoint the exact moment you started to feel him drift away from you or the moment he could tell you just weren’t as happy around him anymore. it wasn’t a lack of love, that was for sure, but the differences in your character started to become more visible and to catch up to you. it was difficult as you couldn’t see him as much anymore and he swore you would be unreachable anytime he tried to get closer again. it all had snowballed and you were now here.
you heard the front door close and you turned around just in time to see yunho reenter the room. that wasn’t usual either. he had gone away to calm down almost an hour ago, and usually he would be the one insisting on talking things out in the moment. you were wary and scared deep inside, wondering if things were broken beyond repair but now that he was back, you felt his presence ease some of your worries. your eyes were so puffy and red from crying and his voice was hoarse from arguing, but still, none of you was willing to give up on the idea of sleeping together. no matter how horrible the fight had been, you both unconsciously knew you'd be better if you knew how the other was doing. even the lingering idea of breaking things up for good could never make you prefer sleeping alone.
that didn’t make things any easier, however. yunho laid down until the clock marked four in the morning, he hadn’t slept much and the lack of touching was almost physically painful. you were so close but he couldn’t reach you. at some point he stood up to the bathroom and by the time he came back he found your hand on his side of the bed and your cheeks wet with tears, but you were still fast asleep.
yunho was worried and he hurried back to bed when he heard your pained cry for him not to leave and the calling of his name. seeing you like that was enough to make him snap out of his angered daze. how could things go this far? how could he not notice how much you wanted to fix everything when it was obvious that even on your sleep you were still longing for him? how could he hurt you when you were the person he loved the most, that he cared about the most? yunho wrapped his arms around your frame and kissed the top of your head. you were still crying softly, slightly awake now that he was holding you so close to his body.
“i’m never leaving, you hear me?,” yunho’s voice brought some comfort to you, firm as it always was, “i’ll stay with you”
15. yeosang
it was a typical evening with your boyfriend and his group at his dorm after helping wooyoung and seonghwa cook some dinner and cleaning up the kitchen.
since the group divided into three different dorms, it was not uncommon for them to find a way to be together at home even after being together the entire day, filming and practicing, and most of the times you were there just hanging out with your partner, so now you were all scattered in the living room, some of them talking and playing games, some of them focused on the drama episode airing on the tv. you on the other hand were laying on the couch with your head on yeosang’s lap and his hand running through your hair after talking his ear out and teaming up with san for a while just to lovingly annoy your boyfriend with your antics. it was like a switch had shifted on you, one moment going on and on about your day and every little thought that crossed your mind and then not even a minute after, as silent as you could get, tired and almost completely falling asleep on him.
truth to be told, yeosang was already flustered and his bright pink cheeks were an indicator of it, same as everytime your displays of affection occurred in front of the boys and it became even worse because when he tried to get up and bring a blanket for you, you hugged his legs and buried your face on his thigh with a half asleep whine, earning everyone's curious gaze.
"baby, it's cold. I'll be right back"
you shook your head, and that’s when he knew you were still not fully conscious because if you were, you would be equally as flustered.
"no, don't leave me"
almost everyone scoffed, some of them going back to their business and some of them standing up to give you some privacy in case you wanted to sleep for real. yeosang gave up with a big sigh and ignoring yunho’s smirk, he lifted up your head only for a moment before sliding a cushion under it and hugging your shoulders from behind.
10. san
it was date night at your place, one of the very few times he had a day off and could spend as many hours as he wanted with you and the comfort of your hugs, and san could not be more excited, or at least he was until you started discussing your plans for the evening an actually acted on them.
you had insisted a lot in watching a horror movie despite his constant efforts to convince you to watch a romantic comedy instead, because despite claming out loud that he wasn't afraid of these type of movies, he knew his own body would betray him. he prided himself on being a tough guy, always in touch with his feelings but also very capable of protecting you and acting strong for you, but he also wasn’t afraid of admitting how little of a fan of horror he was. for the entirety of your relationship you had never been in this kind of situation and he was starting to get nervous, shifting on his seat as the starting credits started to roll in and the unsettling music from the film reached his ears.
little did he knew that after around one hour, you would be the one screaming at jumps cares, and he would be the one laughing at your reactions. he didn't want to be mean, so he wouldn't tease you too much, but even after it ended you were still trembling, eyes wide open and flushed cheeks as you reminisced some of the worst scenes in the movie. because of that, he wasn't at all surprised when in the middle of the night you straddled his lap and asked him to hug you tight and never let go. just in case the ghost from that movie would appear to take your souls, you know.
he laughed, of course. he pinched your cheek with a teasing glint in his eyes but still hugged your body so you could rest with your head in the crook of his neck.
09. mingi
mingi liked everything about you. from the way you talked with such passion about the topics you were interested in to the way you couldn’t hide the selflessness and kindness in your soul, he loved you for who you are. he always claimed that you cannot love someone based on what they do for you without loving them for their actual personality and way of thinking, and he truly loved those aspects of you. he wouldn’t lie, however. he also loved the way you treated him and went out of your way to care for him.
he knew how difficult his choice of career was in terms of social relationships. he didn’t have many friends outside from his childhood and celebrity friends because not everyone understood that, sometimes, he couldn’t be there as much as he would love to. that’s why it had been such a dealbreaker when he found you and realized that not only you were willing to understand and compromise, but you were also willing to be there and show up for him at every instance. he was the luckiest, and these type of thoughts filled his head whenever he saw you, like that day, late at night at the filming set. you had brought snacks for his staff and the other boys and had waited sitting patiently for him, even after the filming got delayed twice and everyone had left except for him and a couple of cameramen.
he was the last to film and he was worried about you, waiting for so long in the cold. hongjoong had brought you a blanket to cover yourself before and all of them had offered you a ride home, but you insisted on staying. as he made his way to you and crouched down to your height, he couldn’t help but notice the purplish undertone on your lips and the slight trembling of your hands even when asleep. mingi held your hands on his and your eyelids fluttered open for a second. you noticed the way his stern gaze wandered over your face and body and a faint smile made its way to your lips.
“you were amazing out there,” voice a little hoarse, and mingi’s thumb started to caress the back of your hand, “are you going back now?”
he shook his head and clutched his hand to your thigh, still worried but a little bit more at ease now that you were talking, “no, we’re done. we’re going to the dorm now, and you’re coming with me”
“good. i’ve missed you a lot, stay with me now”
mingi flashed a soft smile before standing up and taking you home with him.
26. wooyoung
it was a special night for more than one reason. wooyoung was happy to no extent, just like every time he got to spend time with you away from all your other friends and his own group mates.
you had been friends with wooyoung for longer than you could recall. your relationship had had the most ups and downs in all history of relationships because not only had he been super secretive about his real feelings for you, but you were also the most stubborn person ever and refused to accept the possibility of him liking you half as much as you liked him. in your head, it was simply not possible that someone like him would want to be with you, and it was not that you didn’t have a good self esteem, it was just that for you, his job and current lifestyle was far away from yours to truly connect.
that night you had opened up to him after impulsively kissing him on your kitchen, frustrated as you were with his mixed signals and uncertainty. he hadn’t stopped you, equally as eager as you to show you just how badly he had wanted to do exactly that, but it hadn’t stopped at a kiss, not at all. you ended up doing everything you had ever imagined and even more and now you were cuddled under clean bedsheets, thoughts still racing on your mind although your eyes were almost closed. you were using his arm as a pillow and since he had been patting your head for what felt like hours and your body was so tired after the past events you were so sleepy.
"can you please stay today?"
he almost didn't catch your words, still clouded with bliss from knowing you felt the same about him but the moment he did realize, he felt painfully aware of the fact you asked him to stay after sharing such an intimate experience and for a second he wondered what could've possibly happened to you that made you think he would just go. he tried to push away those thoughts in favour of caressing your face and assuring you, wearing his signature teasing smirk with a pinch of playful affection in his eyes that softened his whole expression. you had never seen him like this. your hair was scattered all over your face in an attempt to hide from his intense gaze and you looked incredibly cute to him, especially because you were breathing more slowly and he noticed how badly you were fighting your sleep. at times you were still so shy around him and he loved it, really.
"i would never leave, doll face"
12. jongho
being jongho’s partner wasn’t for the faint of heart. he was known for liking strolling around the streets and being busy, wether he was working or having a date with you so most of the times, your plans consisted of going out to eat and discover new places on your city, all while he was super chatty and sweet with you. as his partner you were always happy that he was the type to include you as much as he could in everything he did. as a homebody though, you were also happy whenever you got to stay at home with him. that night was one of those nights.
you had been cuddling for hours on end while watching movies, snacking on everything you could find and just overall hanging out with your boyfriend after a long day at work, and because you were so tired you fell asleep on his chest. he was surprised but didn’t move right away, just taking in the image of your tranquil face just resting, as pretty as he thought you were. something like that had never happened because the two of you had always been careful around each other since your relationship was fairly new and you hadn't sleep at each other's place just yet. he knew he wanted to, especially now after seeing you so adorable in his arms with your warm body so close to his, but he just couldn't ignore the sting on his chest at the thought of maybe making you uncomfortable if he just let it slide and fell asleep too. he knew a lot about you already, and trusted you enough to know what type of reaction you would have, but just in case, he didn’t want to overstep any boundary.
he was about to wake you up so he could get up and let you rest on your own bed, but you tightened your arms around his waist and his face flushed red when he caught your sleepy eyes looking back at him. soft eyelashes brushing against soft cheeks with every slow blink and jongho’s heartbeat could be heard by anyone a mile around. he had been so busy looking at your face and the way you body just seemed to fit perfectly against his that he didn’t noticed when you woke up.
"maybe stay tonight?"
he swore his heart melted.
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tacticaldiary · 9 months
Note
I love your fics so much 😍😍😍 could you please write a ghost x wife reader where he has a nightmare about losing them
Solace For The Rough Nights
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"
"I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love."
Masterlist
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Ghost was running.
Footsteps crunching on dried leaves, he weaves through the trees, shaking off the sounds of harshly barked orders, as crisp and as hold as the cold air around him.
The trees around him are densely packed together, a mixing pot of leaves, roots, and coarsely misplaced footsteps.
He can't remember how he got here, or what op he was on and it sends his normally razor-focused mind into a slight frenzy.
Ghost is a man of action. A plan and a way to execute it was all he needed to bring back a victory in tow, but right now he has neither of those things, hasn't even a bare recollection of ever having those things in the first place.
What was a Ghost without a purpose to haunt?
He stumbles.
It's already an odd situation. Ghost doesn't stumble or hesitate. He's a well-oiled machine, self-sufficient and cut-throat. Missteps are simply not viable with him, especially not something as simple as tripping.
Catching himself on his arm, he swings around, gun already aimed towards the ground, sees a vest-clad figure sprawled over the ground under him.
He fires without thinking. A bullet straight to the head, brain matter splattering the trees and forest, the expanse of his arms. The impact of the bullet jolts the body onto its back and-
Every part of him freezes in pure, undiluted horror.
Because his wife stares up at the sky, eyes unseeing, eerily still. Her hair bloodstained, splayed out onto the ground caught in twigs and branches, face filthy with dirt and crimson that he drew from her.
He's not sure when the trembling starts, only that it begins with his hands and travels up his spine, singeing his soul with a terror that would marr him forever. Circumstances completely forgotten, he drops to his knees in front of her, hands shaking as he calls out her name, pressing his fingers to her neck to find a pulse as if he hadn't just blown her brain out and-and fuck it was still on his arms, his hands, the blood was everywhere and there was no way Ghost had just taken the one thing he wanted to keep in his life-
A strangled sound leaves his lips, not a laugh and not quite a cry. He wants to laugh at the irony.
He's always been so afraid that someone would hurt her at his expense, that someone would take her away, tear her apart from him.
He never thought it'd be him who carried out the deed.
Nothing comes out of his mouth, because nothing can fix this. He gathers her into his arms, shaking silently. He deserves this, deserves to suffer in silence with what he's done.
The release of crying was not one he deserved.
"Fuck, I-...you're okay." His voice breaks, rough and gritty, and desperate. "I didn't-I swear I-..."
Someone's voice sounds behind him but he refuses to look back, letting the screaming in his head, the crescendo of grief consume him. His hands never let up from touching her, pressing her against himself as if his own heartbeat may bring her to life.
How could someone like her face the end when someone as disgustingly tainted and bloodstained as him continued on living?
It wasn't right, but then again, the world never was fair.
He registers he's panicking, knows that he can't quite get a full breath in and that the noise of talking is getting louder but death itself would be the only thing to take him away from her.
"..i..on."
He squeezes his eye shut, rasping out suffocating breaths.
"Simon...Simon!"
His eyes snap open, a strangled gasp tearing out of his throat. It's blindingly dark, and he's...there's hands on him. Steeling himself he sits up hazy and confused, lingering panic making his throat close up.
A click and the room fills with light.
Room. He's in...he's in his room. He's in their room.
"You okay?"
Her voice makes him shiver violently, ignites his frayed nerves. He's almost afraid to look over lest he find her bloody and mangled, because she was, wasn't she? He'd seen it, held her, felt guilt choke him and...
But there weren't any leaves here. No trees, and no blood on his hand (that was the first thing his eyes had snapped down to confirm.)
With a shaky breath, he finally turns his head towards her voice.
Some of the hastily built scaffolding inside him collapses at the sight of her. Alive. Well. Clean.
Worried.
Patient as always, she's waiting for him to get his bearing, not wanting to swarm and overwhelm him.
"Simon?" Her voice is a crack of softness a man like him doesn't deserve. The sheets rustle as she shifts closer. "You were tossing around, mumbling something." She furrows her brows, coming to sit in front of him. "You're all sweaty. Do you feel ill?" The back of her hand presses against his forehead, and the touch snaps something in him.
Breaks apart the harrowing gates of relief, but also smashes the wave of diluted panic he'd been too disorientated to feel.
His hand snaps to her wrist, a gentle and firm hold. Her eyes widen but she doesn't interrupt, lets him press his lips against her pulse point with trembling fingers. "You're all right." He breathes out, half to himself.
"I'm right here." She reassures him immediately. It loosens up his shoulders a little, but he still reaches out to her, pulls her close into a hug so crushingly tight it knocks the breath out of her.
She hugs him tighter, still.
Simon wasn't a hugger, so something must really have shaken him up.
"Hey..." She mumbles against his shoulder.
Simon pulls back, hands travelling up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, to press against her temples. His gaze flickers down to his own arms, then back to her head.
"Talk to me, baby." She says quietly, letting him ground himself. His hands tangle in her loose hair, weaving the strands between his fingers as if he might pick out phantom leaves and twigs. "Why so worked up?"
"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"
"You didn't."
The sharp interrupting startles him enough to still his hands from where they've been mapping out her skin to ensure it was still unmarred.
"You didn't." She repeats. Gently untangling his hand from her hair, she brings it to press against her chest, right over where her heart is. "I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love." She smiles and Simon feels his heart twist. The way she leans forward to press her lips to his is a kind of gentle he's still getting used to. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon." She whispers against his lips, a warmth that's a welcome reprieve from the shivers that wracked his body moments prior.
They sit there taking in each other's presence until Simon's thoughts slow from a sprint to a run to a walk, until the taste of copper, and the tang of iron fade from his senses.
Until it's just her, just them. In their bed, in their home. Off duty and safe.
When she slides her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him down he goes willingly, lets her straddle him. Never once do his hands leave her, they wrap around her hips to keep her steady.
"Tell me about it?" She asks, hands on his chest. After a moment of thought, Simon shakes his heavy with a long, heavy exhale.
"I'd rather not think about it." He rasps.
"It might help." The gentle shapes she traces on his chest give him something to latch onto. "I don't want you to deal with these nightmares alone." She snakes a hand up to his head, gently tapping his temple. "Don't want you to get stuck here without me. We're a team, right?"
"I suppose we are." He hums. Simon considers changing the subject, letting it go and falling back to sleep, but the need to get these vile thoughts out of him...
So he talks.
For once, he talks.
Simon tells her in halting phrases and clenched fists about what he remembers, how he held the gun, how there was no hesitation pulling the trigger.
His tension is met with hums and soothing circles rubbed onto his skin, keeping him with her even when he unravels the threads of his worst nightmare.
"I remember thinking how I was the one who took your life." He swallows harshly. "How I lost someone else...how it'd have been my fault." She doesn't comment on the fact that his grip on her hips has tightened considerably as he spoke.
"Well you haven't shot me yet, so I think we're safe for now."
Her attempt at a joke is met with a blank glare, but she snickers anyway. "Look Simon, if it'd be anybody I'd have liked it to be you-"
"No."
Her smile falters at the way he pushes up onto his elbows. "No?"
"I wouldn't..." He gathers his thoughts, clenches his jaw briefly. "I'd rather cut my own hands off, love."
"That's a bold claim, but-"
"It's a promise."
The conviction he says it with renders her speechless. His eyes so firm and determined and honest in the meagre light of their nightlamp sparks a warm heat through her, a reminder of how much she loves the man under her, of why she adores him.
He means what he says. It should scare her, someone so willing to go that far, but instead it's a fierce reassurance that her passion is returned. Maybe not in hugs or dopey smiles, but instead in moments like these, with promises that carve their way into their very bones, etching the proof of devotion into permanence.
She tips her head forward until their foreheads are pressed together. "I love you, Simon." She whispers. "So fucking much. I'm not going anywhere, alright. Not without you."
A hand wraps around the back of her neck, tugs her down to crash their lips together, the only affirmation she needs. He pulls her down until they're a tangle of limbs and breaths.
He doesn't need to say it back. Not when his hands burn sparks into her skin, when his arms around her guarantee safety and protection like nobody else can provide.
"You're here." He breathes, like he needs to.
"I'm here." A kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw. "I'm here."
And he finally believes it.
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(16/08/2023)
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