#i want to break free of it all and live without shame | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenie-the-court-jester · 2 months

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HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit

- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!

Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day

you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝

Yandere playboy x reader

Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior

💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?

💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house

💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times

"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"

💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..

💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can

💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity

💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.

"my love..? Is that you!?"

"..who?"

💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..

💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.

💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them

"...slut."

💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..

💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.

💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register

"thank you, please come again-"

💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love

"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."

💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #queenie writes #queenie ocs #ocs #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #Yandere oc x reader #Oc x reader #Oc #Kameron the playboy #yandere headcanons

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months

Text

The Host | Yandere Zoldyck Family

“I’m so happy, we were able to locate the portal so quickly! Now you all can return to your world without breaking the space-time continuum!” You mused, happily sipping on the piping hot tea in front of you.

Whether you liked it or not, you wouldn’t have refused this cup. After all, it was specially crafted for and given to you by the reclusive Zoldycks. It was an honor—more like a miracle that you were being served an un-poisoned cup of tea.

You were used to prickly (read as: murderous) anomalies that were ejected into the aimless void of time. As per your occupation you housed and befriended said anomalies until it was time that they returned to their dimensions.

When you were selected at the end of your life for this position, the galactic overlords in charge assured you that this was a duty perfect for you. That no matter what, your tenants would find themselves comforted by you during their time there.

You begged to disagree even though none of your tenants had successfully ended your life yet. You prepared yourself for the day they one day would.

“Yes, it will be a shame to lose contact with a host as pleasant as you.”

Zeno smiled, closing his eyes as brought his own cup to his mouth. Letting a hand fall over your heart you silently thanked him. Another hand reached for you tearing your attention away from the former head.

“It is a shame your work keeps you so busy!” Kikyo cried, holding your hand. Gingerly running the pads of her fingers over your knuckles.

“Ah, but I feel as though I haven’t worked a day.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you like this job of yours?” The old man raised his brow.

“Of course! When I’m not hosting I’m free to do what I please and the guests that come by always make things interesting.”

Memories of the various visitors came to mind as you smiled; Kikyo puckered her lip in a pout. Her clutch on your hand had gotten slightly tighter, nothing alarming but noticeable.

“But don’t you feel overworked? Tired? Lonely?”

“There’s always the other people in the town.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have expected them to have any intelligible conversation.”

You dismissed the slight towards your community, it’d be impossible for her to realize their worth within the year. Granted they weren’t particularly strong or inquisitive; it wasn’t like they were built to be outstanding anyway. Nonetheless, they were kind to you and always understanding when it came to the guests. Not once have you needed to send a complaint to upper management. Everyone played their prescribed roles without fail.

“They can be really pleasant, once you get to know them.”

Zeno sighed, “So you say but I can’t imagine you not caring for them. You're always so forgiving.”

“Well…they have their flaws.”

“Ah! You’re too humble (Y/n)! The least they can do is honor your contribution to their pathetic lives!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Zoldyck but a cake every once in a while is good enough for me.”

“Ah! So simple (Y/n), it screams you no nothing of luxury!”

“Really I feel as though I’ve almost been overwhelmed with it with the Zoldycks here.”

“Please! If you could see the Zoldyck Estate in our world, you’d truly know luxury!”

You let her continue, chatting with her and Zeno, who occasionally chimed in. It was time to enjoy their company for they’d be gone before you knew it.

____________________________________

“Ne (Y/n)! Alluka wants to hold onto your jacket for a bit is that alright?”

“Oh? I barely noticed I left it behind but sure.”

You continued to walk side by side with Killua making your way to your destination. The wind was cold. Wisping at your cheeks and nose as you mesmerized yourself with the smoky puff your breath made. Catching cat-like blue eyes watching you with amusement you stopped, replacing it with an embarrassed smile.

He snickered. “What? Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh Killua you're the only kid that makes me feel like a silly child again.”

“Eh?! You make it sound like I’m the reason you’re just childish anyway.”

You playfully hummed. “Hm. Maybe I am.”

You shared a laugh before letting your eyes begin to wander. Looking past the trees of the park to admire the clouded sky blending into the freezing lake. Despite having walked this path millions of times before, it never failed to take your breath away. Making you sigh in awe, you minded the frozen droplets hanging off the naked branches; looking as though they were a part of some artist’s canvas.

Even the rosiness that danced at your cheeks brought by your body’s attempt to warm you in the frigid season, felt magical in its own right. It was easy to lose sight of your path as your feet remember the way; allowing you to drift.

But before you could go too far the warmth of another hand-a smaller hand in your pocket brought you back. Looking down in surprise at the blushing owner looking away from you. You chuckled intertwining his smaller, rougher hand with yours as you walked with a pep in your step.

“I-I’m just keeping my hand warm. Where I’m from it never gets this cold.”

You smirked. “Sure!”

You didn’t believe him and he knew that. But that wasn’t the point anyway.

“You two seem to be getting along well.”

The monotone voice stopped the both of you in your tracks. Standing in a slim-fitted insulating jacket was the eldest of the Zoldyck children. Standing precisely on the crack in the sidewalk he demanded you meet at. You didn’t miss the annoyed click of Killua’s teeth. Or the blank foreboding stare directed at a specific pocket of yours.

“Yup, Killua offered to walk me to our meetup spot. If you’re alright with it, I wouldn’t mind if he came with us.”

Illumi robotically tilted his head, his eyes still trained on the same spot it had been focused on since he started watching you.

“I doubt Kil would find any enjoyment in where we’re going.”

Killua's eye twitched. “Oh? Where are you going?”

“Somewhere for adults, I’m sure you’d find it boring.”

“Really try me,”

The two intensely held each other’s gaze, vaguely conveying that this may need your intervention. With a well-timed sneeze, you might have saved yourself and the whole park from their ‘playful’ exchange of blows. Illumi seemed to back down first stepping closer to your unoccupied side where he waited for his brother to leave.

Said brother didn’t look all too convinced. Squeezing his hand in yours brought his attention to you, already smiling in silent reassurance.

“Hey, take care of my sweater for me ‘kay.”

The silent message was heard as Killua, who begrudgingly released your hand from his hold. With a final glare towards his brother, he’d begun to leave, watching as you turned and waved to him as he went. He also watched as his brother slipped his hand into your opposite pocket. With a final click of his tongue, he moved at speeds practically impossible for the human eye back to the apartment you’d organized for him and Alluka.

Making your way wordlessly out of the park, finally stopping within the toasty insides of a ceramics shop. With the unmolded clay in front of you and the guide having finished their instruction, you finally giggled at Illumi.

“I’d hardly call ceramics an adults-only event.”

Illumi didn’t laugh, he didn’t even look up from the shape he was focused on molding.

“I would. He isn’t a part of this so it isn’t bizarre for it to be considered an adult event.”

You decided to keep quiet about the toddler two tables down. Instead, you poked your head over the assassin’s shoulder to see what he was making. Glad you hadn’t started working on your own creation, you pulled back the raven locks that were spilling dangerously close to his work in progress.

Missing the slight stutter of his fingertips as he registered the soft, gentle hold of your fingertips he continued. Opting to focus solely on his creation with more intensely.

“I’m so glad I brought a hair tie for this exact moment.”

“...if you don’t hurry up your clay will dry and your money will go to waste.”

“Ah. So money conscious.”

Finished with a nice low ponytail, you scooched back into your seat; prepared to begin your own creation. Sparing a glance at Illumi, you expected he’d be laser-focused on his work but instead he was staring at you unapologetically. While you found this wasn’t uncommon for him it didn’t change the fact that it was still odd.

“So uh what are you making?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just asking, are you worried I’ll make fun?”

“My finished product will be more than enough to answer you, right?

“I guess so.”

You had an inkling of worry that he’d create something graphic and horrific. But you had to remind yourself: he wasn’t Milluki. Who unapologetically, on multiple accounts, scarred surprised you with animal entrails, graphic posters, and concerning digital art that bore striking resemblance to you.

Speaking of striking resemblance…you had a glorious idea.

____________________________________________________

“So…what is it?”

You hated to ask but you had to. The ceramic resembled the bare requirements of a face colored by a paint color akin to your skin tone. Somehow when you turned your head to the left side you saw a screaming face but when you turned your head to the right it looked as though it was smiling.

“....”

He just stared at you blankly (as he usually did) but you could tell there was something unfamiliar. He turned his head away from you as he reached for his creation back.

“If you can’t tell than it shouldn’t matter.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sorry!”

You held the…thing in your hands with care as you bore witness to the rare sight of an embarrassed Illumi.

“Even if I don’t know what it is I think it’s beautiful in its own right.”

“Don’t lie its unbecoming of you.”

“I’m not lying!”

You let him snatch it from your hand and tuck it in his pocket. Smiling to yourself, you found comfort in that he didn’t immediately toss it into the trashcan by the doorway. Catching up with his quick pace you held you’re wrapped creation to your chest.

“I would like to continue on now.”

“Don’t just sweep it under the rug! It’s all about growth.”

_____________________________________________

“Here you are Kalluto!”

He was doing what you had suggested: finding his own style. Alas, he still found himself taking the most buried articles of clothing from your closet and posing in the mirror. If you had noticed you didn’t say much, when you let yourself into the room he’d been given.

“I made it just for you.”

The vase had a pink hue, with speckles of purple. He liked it but he was curious why he was gifted this.

“I based it off the color of your eyes. I saw the shade being offered and I thought it’d be a perfect souvenir for you.”

His cheeks were overtaken by a hot crimson as he gingerly accepted the small vase. He loved it! Holding it close to his chest he almost missed the presence of his eldest brother outside his room. Judging by the slim-fitted jacket, his hat, and his pointed stare at the gift itself told Kalluto everything he needed to know. So that was his decision, for his day out with you? The ceramics shop?

The image of you crafting something while smiling along with him. Hands touching one another while you both crafted something beautiful. Your attention solely focused on him.

He’s so jealous.

“Thank you. It looks beautiful.”

“ I’m so happy you like it! I was worried I wouldn’t get the color right but looking at you now I see I’m right on the mark.”

Kalluto’s cheeks never changed from heir red color, causing him to tuck his head into the collar of the shirt he stole from you borrowed. Sending a cautious look at the figure in the doorway he took a gamble. He put the vase down, quickly moving to nestle his head into your stomach almost immediately having your arms wrap around him. He didn’t bother locking eyes with the observer, instead pretending to be fully enveloped by your attention.

If he did have a problem, Kalluto could argue that his time with you was limited. Therefore nothing was off the table. Not when their access to you would be gone forever. He’d rather it not be that way.

__________________________________________________

“Silva.”

The call of his wife had the current head of the Zoldyck family, wordlessly asking what she needed. Nonetheless, he responded in kind.

“Kikyo.”

The two of them were seated a ways apart from one another each sipping on their respective drinks as the candles slowly burned.

“We need to talk about (Y/n).”

“What is there to talk about?”

He knew what she wanted to talk about. Those of any authority within the Zoldyck family already had a gray consensus about their host. All that was needed was definite words, so that they could be a united front on the subject.

“On the topic of (Y/n) coming with us.”

Silva crossed his arms.

“We cannot.”

“Why not? All of us like them! They show promise in maintaining the family, they’ve even convinced Kil to come home more often!”

He wanted to grit his teeth but he didn’t. Only brought his cup to his mouth for a pensive sip.

“No, they’d never survive training. Let alone our world in general.”

He maintained his composure as he parroted Zeno’s consultation. Even as his wife slammed her own cup on the tray and opened her mouth to protest. He knew she’d ask because he had asked.

“Mr. Silva. Is it okay if I call you that or would you rather it be Mr. Zoldyck?”

It amazed him that such a meek, small, weak host would have made him even consider bringing you along with them when they returned. Their host couldn’t be farther from them brimming with compassion and mindfulness that brought out a side the family had long since fought against.

It shouldn’t have enamored them as it had. But it did. Leaving everyone in the family vying for their attention. With them the family’s prowess in killing meant nothing and it didn’t do any favors in garnering positive response.

But it was for that exact reason Zeno mused that they’d never fit in the Zoldyck family. Even if they chose the route of marrying you into the family it would diminish your time with the everyone. Favoring the one they’d marry over all others. It’d be so unfair

“Husband, this opportunity to attain a sliver of another world would benefit the Zoldyck family! Even more so as a tenant or as a servant under all our care! It wouldn’t impede the family’s strength and their rules to serve would make them an asset to explore.”

“And have them reach a butler’s strength alone. At their level?”

Kikyo hung her head covering her visor with her hands as she resisted the urge to weep. Silva refused to look at her, focusing intensely on the still liquid in his cup. The pain in this revelation was mutual.

“Mr. Silva, did you go to aquariums when you were younger?”

“For missions.”

“What about on your own?”

“What would be the purpose of that?”

“I don’t know, to see the animals. To learn about them.”

“What use would learning about these animals do? If there is no time that I’ll be within their biome it would do nothing for me to retain this information.”

“Isn’t it nice to just be in awe though? To just fathom loosely about the world we barely have begun to discover?”

The image of their excited face illuminated by the tank was the moment Silva’s first felt that emotion. It reminded him of meeting Kikyo, of having his heir, of establishing a budding lineage. He learned that feeling was better not left ignored for it could very well determine the safety of the ones he felt it for.

He’s seen it in his children, in all his children, so he could only see what he could control spiraling for the others. He could only think about the repercussions for when they returned home. There’d be no way to cull it easily; with you being literal dimensions apart.

Kikyo’s sulking stopped abruptly her hands folding to sit on her lap.

“Perhaps there is a way to bring them without breaking the rules.”

Blue eyes look at her expectantly.

“The Zoldyck’s have not encountered anyone worthy enough to consider adoption.”

“Adoption?”

“Yes, the process hasn’t been used within the family before…if it were to be implemented–” There was something hopeful within her voice and a twitch of a smile on Silva’s lip.

“Then the rules that qualify the one adopted would be entirely up to the head of the family.”

Silva attempted to resist the smile that spread across his face, as he leaned back onto his hand. How apparent would it be that their host had such an impact on them since they left the mansion? But even so, this was proof that they should have their host after all.

“I’ll have to check with Zeno…but perhaps it might be a veritable solution.”

____________________________________________

You were glad you spent the night before sobbing your heart out. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to smile through the Zoldyck’s goodbyes. Granted none of them, except for Kalluto and Alluka, were even close to shedding a single tear. Nonetheless, you hugged them all trying to calm yourself.

The otherworldly energy spewing from the portal never made you nervous before and yet your hair was standing on end. Your tolerance for fearful situations had decreased significantly as you got to know the Zoldyck family but it never completely went away. You weren’t an idiot.

They were a family of assassins.

It’s foolish not to expect threats on your life at every other turn. But this had an effect on you on a deeper level than that. This was more unsettling.

Was it the amount of place-holding spirits killed during their stay? Or the physical planet of this dimension lurching as it coughed up one of the most murderous families to stay here? Or was there something wrong with the integrity of the dimension itself?

You were tethered to the realm and it was tethered to you. For the most part, it only means you have a loose idea of what’s to come with the weather or an effect on a guest’s actions. But in times of dire situations, you’ve had the world reach out to you. At this point, you were already looking for a sign.

But that wasn’t your main focus not when the younger ones were keeping you occupied. Hanging on your arms were Alluka and Killua; the latter was playfully mirroring the former.

“Aw (Y/n)! We’ll miss you so much!”

“Yeah! We’ll miss you soooo much!”

“Ah Killua at least you could pretend to be serious about this.”

Spying Kalluto a ways off clutching the vase you had made him you gave him a small smile.

“This relocation didn’t turn out to be a complete waste.”

Milluki spoke up, unabashed as he pulled along a cart of all his anime and gaming memorabilia. You could see the invisible sneers of disgust from majority of the family, Killua didn’t even bother hiding his.

“For once I’d agree,” Illumi chimed sending a bottomless look in your direction. “There were plenty of…unexpected trades to learn in a world devoid of hunters.”

“Thank you?” You shrugged.

Zeno let out a chuckle putting a thoughtful hand on your back.

“I think all of us in the Zoldyck family have learned quite a bit.” You had to fight the tears now.

“For that we thank you.”

The entirety of the Zoldyck family bowed to you, leaving you to fight tears at the demonstration of respect and love they had for an average-dimensional host. Fanning at the water building up in your eyes you bowed and thanked them yourselves.

“You guys! Get over here and give me hugs!”

You made sure to hug every member of the family even if they made unsettling comments as you did Milluki.

Getting the timing perfectly right the portal opened to its full size, the electric blue illuminating everyone’s faces. You could smell the atmosphere of the Kukuroo mountain and the forest upon it. All that was left to do was for them to enter.

“Alright now as stated before time has only been an hour in your world. Now you will be coming down from the sky but I’m sure you all will manage.”

“Thank you for everything (Y/n).”

You bowed your head to the patriarch missing the devious glint in his eyes.

“Of course.”

Starting with Silva they each dove into the portal, leaving you to stand by yourself in the field of sunflowers selected as a gateway. Turning away from the flashing portal you could finally address the world’s message for you. The surrounding grass began to lay down unnaturally, spelling out a word.

“They–”

You bent to down watching as the green blades folded into more words, filling your heart with trepidation as it spelled slowly.

“--will not–”

The blades continued to fold slowly as the sunflower stems frantically sprouted from the ground. Not bothering to wriggle free from the stems wrapping around your wrists, you tried to hurry the world’s spelling. Why did you feel like you needed to rush?

“-let you go–? Wait what the he-”

Before you could finish a translucent, glowing, and golden dragon, like one from Japanese folklore came out of the portal. Wrapping around your entire body it skillfully carried you into the shrinking portal. Only stopping for a short time to wriggle free of the sunflowers that were simultaneously pulling at your limbs.

Now on the other side of the portal, you were being pulled backward. Your front looking at the endless sky watching the portal shrink and close, slicing the desperately reaching sunflowers and their stems.

Something within you seemed to break but before you could dwell on that you finally tried to register what was going on.

“AHHHHH!”

Diving with you in it’s coil the dragon was rocketing in the direction of a mansion. All you could do was hold tight as the dragon slowed to a stop. Gently letting you lie on the floor, taking a moment to ground yourself you barely registered the booming voice.

“Congratulations (Y/n), you’ve been inducted into the Zoldyck Family.”

“W-what?”

“As the adopted of the Zoldyck, you’re duty to the family is to be protected and to participate in the family to the best of your limited abilities.”

“Wait—”

“Per your lack of Zoldyck blood, your title as the adopted is willing to change for the family’s convenience.”

“HOLD ON!” You stood up fully holding your shaking hands out as you began to process what this would mean. Before you can get a word in Kikyo runs up to you, shoving your head into her chest as she rocks your unsteady form.

“Rejoice my (Y/n)! Now for all the care you’ve given us, we get to take care of you!”

“Mother, you’ll smother them.”

“Ah big brother, don’t need to get jealous I’m sure you’ll get your turn.”

“I know that.”

Unable to speak or look too far away, you felt Alluka and Kalluto grab at your pant legs. No doubt they glared at one another as they vied for your attention.

“(Y/n)!” ”(Y/n)!”

Being no help at all Killua wasn’t too far behind, ”Oi don’t hog them all.”

Whether it was the exhaustion of dimensional travel or losing air within your mother Kikyo’s breast. Beginning to lose consciousness you could barely make out the ghost of a smile on Silva’s face. Zeno withheld no courtesy, smiling happily as he turned away.

After all, you were home with them. Where you belonged.

Surely the Zoldyck family could handle the dimensional repercussions of claiming their host.

670 notes · View notes

stay-somnia · 3 months

Text

Virgin Chan! hard thots

Everyones likes to think Chan must have had a girlfriend or at least hook ups but I raise you Virgin! Chan.

-Virgin!Chan who’s never had the chance to go on a date; sacrificing his youth and recklessness for the sake of his group

-Virgin!Chan who avoids his crushes at all cost; locking himself up in the studio until his mind goes blank

-Virgin!Chan who’s so busy he doesn't time or space to jack off; so sleep deprived having wet dreams is a blue moon blessing

-Virgin!Chan who can't look women in the eyes outside of professional conduct let alone give her his number

-Virgin!Chan who’s content at working until he passes out if that means the boys can live their lives the way they want to

-And then there’s Yang Jeongin

-The Maknae, who’s been coddled and spoiled rotten by his hardworking hyungs

-Poor Innocent baby bread who rejects any attempts at flirtation…or so it seems.

-Our little bread boy has a secret, he used to be quite the whore

-Dating girl after girl, making and breaking any heart he chose… until he met you

-his pretty little girlfriend

-Jeongin would do anything for you

-Sugar Daddy in the streets and a beast in the sheets Yang Jeongin didn’t learn nothing from his teen days

- He would give you the world; it just so happens that you are his world.

-You might be the apple of his eye but he's not the only one fixated on you…

-Virgin!Chan who has a panic attack when he realizes he has a crush on you... their maknae’s pretty little girlfriend

-Virgin!Chan who scurries off whenever you come by wearing those short skirts that drive him and your boyfriend absolutely insane

-Virgin!Chan who starts whimpering your name in his sleep always drenched in sweat and shame

-Virgin!Chan who starts squirming when you get within five feet of him

-Yang Jeongin is not blind or stupid

-Anyone can see how his Hyung goes wild over you

-That tent in Chan’s pants whenever you say his name might as well be a neon sign

-Its so cute how his leader drools for you; a desperate puppy at his master's feet

-Jeongin owes Chan (they all do)

-where would any of them be without their leaders' hard work and sacrifice

-He really should pay his Hyung back... and what better way to do that than helping his poor overworked hyung de-stress a bit…

-Virgin!Chan who’s stomach drops when Jeongin comes forward with a little proposition

-Virgin!Chan who cant breath when you tell him that you're okay with it... that you want it.

-Virgin!Chan who's gasps when he sees you in Jeongins arms wearing nothing but one of his !Chan's! hoodies..

-Virgin!Chan who stays motionless when Jeongin beckons him over

-Virgin!Chan who thinks he's died when the realization that he’s allowed to touch you finally sinks in

-Yang Jeongin who grabs his Hyung's hands to guide them to your most sensitive bits

-Yang Jeongin who puppeteers a trembling Chan into giving you sweet release

-Yang Jeongin who swells with pride when you cry out for him

-Yang Jeongin who gently pushes his Hyung aside to show him how its done

-Virgin Chan who creams his pants watching Jeongin wrench orgasm after orgasm from you

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This is probably really shitty quality, I'm sorry. Any writers out there feel free run wild with this Drabble? hard thought?

if I get my shit together maybe I'll write a one shot of this.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan smut #yang jeongin smut #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #jeongin x reader #skz x you #skz x reader smut

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sweetnothingtm · 1 year

Text

RUTHLESS// simon riley x reader

pairing simon riley x f!reader

word count 4.6k

content warning rough sex, knife play, degradation, oral sex, the mask stays on!

authors note i hope you enjoy you dirty little freaks. thank you for everything ♡

It’s an honest mistake - really. Had you known any better you would’ve kept it right where he left it.

But you can’t help yourself, lingering just a moment longer to stare at the blade that shines in the light. Its tip was stuck in the wall, the black hilt of the knife worn from use. Soap is calling your name, but you stay put, lip caught between your teeth.

It’s the lieutenants, his initials engraved into it - and you pocket it without a second thought.

You hide it from him like a dirty secret.

At first, you reason that it’s a good knife - a waste of potential to be left in the wall. It’s been polished and sharpened, the tip of the blade pricking into your finger. You had to keep it, you thought. Despite the fact that he would eventually come back for it, eyebrows drawn in confusion at the empty hole where it used to stick. You don’t necessarily use it, but you keep it on you at all times. It rests in your breast pocket, your heart beating against it even now.

A reminder of him. All the little unspoken truths and harbored emotions that you kept from him.

Then you think he could've asked for it back. You don’t admit that you have it, but if he wants it then he’ll try to find it. You have a bad habit to absentmindedly stare at him during briefings, and you notice the empty spot on his vest. It’s a similar shape to the knife.

You’ve been free falling for the lieutenant since the day you met him. Always a little too desperate and eager, you did your best to please. Arriving early for meetings, being the first one up, getting your report and handing it to him finished not a day later. He’d catch your gaze, cocking an eyebrow almost as if in challenge. You’d blush, breaking his stare and shoving down all those months of pining.

He taught you how to aim, how to disassemble your weapons and put them back together, hell- he’d just about taught you how to breathe. A ghost that’s hellbent on haunting the living, he kept you waiting patiently and obediently. You just needed a sign - something to tell you that he sees you.

The lieutenant doesn’t ask for it back. Yet. You’re starting to fall asleep looking at it, eyes half lidded and thumb rubbing over the hilt softly. It flips between your hands under the table at meetings, head in the clouds with your superior storming your thoughts.

The initials are ingrained in your memory like it was branded. SR. You start to carve it in bathrooms, trees, your bed frame. It’s shameful to admit, but having a piece of him is nice to carry. It’s because he’s your boss, the guy whose job it is to keep you alive. You’re just being sentimental for a friend.

Sometimes you wonder if he knows it’s gone. There’s a part of you that hopes you’ll never have to give it back.

Eventually you’re beginning to treat it like it’s your own. You carry it with you like a lost piece to a puzzle. It’s got a spot on the inside of your vest, hidden from his eyes. You let it dance on your skin in boredom, and use it to cut stray threads off you. But you can’t cut the lieutenant loose.

Your eyes are blinking away boredom and disinterest, head hung low as the drowning deep voice of Ghost continues on. It’s late, and you’re tapping your boot impatiently as Johnny and Kyle are making small talk about the stupidest shit.

The knife clicks open and closed, fingers unconsciously brushing against the blade. You really just need a shower and eight hours of sleep, but time is ticking away.

Think Lt will let us sleep in tomorrow?

Not a chance, Soap

Bastard doesn’t even sleep. It’s not fair

You feel like kicking yourself to stay awake. Yawns are bubbling up from your chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. It’s been a half hour since he started talking about procedures, protocols, what to do if blah blah blah. You fiddle with the knife in your hands, glancing down at the initials. Simon Riley. You wish you were in bed, the soft glow of your lamp illuminating your favorite kept secret.

He can tell too, and it’s infuriating him. You’re messing with your hands, lip caught between your teeth as your leg bounces in the chair. You rest your arms on the table, leaning forward and absentmindedly playing with something. Then he sees it, the black hilt that’s worn from the grip of his hand. It’s got the same engraving too, the one he got custom done his first day on the force.

You took it.

Simon didn’t think you’d have it - just a sneaking suspicion. He’s lost it before, usually to find it the next day in his jeans. Yet he saw you leaving, cheeks scarlet as you avoided his gaze. Your hands were shoved deep in your pockets, mumbling soft apologies as he brushed past you and back into the room. It wasn’t there, though.

He missed it. Simon carried it with him everywhere, like it was a part of him. It’s the only knife he owns, always wiping it clean at the end of the night. It twists between his fingers at night, the hilt worn from the palm of his hand. He would lazily flick it open, thumb rubbing along the edge of the knife. He thought he’d find it by now - but there you are, treating it with the same care that he has.

The lieutenant pauses, words trailing off as he stares at the familiar blade. You glance up, catching his gaze with eyes that are dark and heavy. You blink once, twice, straightening and looking down to your hands where the open knife lays. You freeze, the air around you running cold. Heart faltering and chest tightening, you wait with baited breath. Never has the truth been laid so bare before you. His eyes are kept on your face, pinning you in your seat. Does he know?

The lieutenant breaks your gaze, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms. You’re absolutely mortified, shoving the knife in your back pocket and biting your tongue. Johnny looks to Ghost, pausing his conversation with Kyle at the unexpected silence. You’re distracting yourself by looking at anywhere but him, breaths uneven and shoulders tight with anxiety.

Ghost takes a moment to regain his control, mind clouded with the image of you playing with his knife. He runs a hand down the haunting white mask that separates you from him. Still wearing the uniform and gear, his hand rests on the empty spot of his vest as his eyes drag straight back to you.

He has to know.

“Johnny, Gaz - take your gossip outside. We’ll reconvene tomorrow,” he states, leaving no room for questions. The lieutenant breaths a long sigh, head cocking to the side as you blush a deep red. You whip your head to him, standing up straight at the sound of your name. He doesn’t dismiss you. The boys nod begrudgingly, standing up and stretching while grunting goodbyes as they shuffle out of the room. The door swings shut, clicking back into place and leaving you stranded.

It’s just the two of you, a thick and nauseating tension arises as moments slip by in an uncomfortable quiet. Your hands are balled into fists out of anxious habit, nails digging into the palms for your hands. He’s shrugging off the vest, peeling off his gloves and tossing everything on a nearby chair. His bare hands brace against the side of the desk, eyes staring straight through you.

“That’s my favorite knife that you stole,” he says, voice patronizing as you stupidly blink at him with innocence in your eyes. Your mouth opens and shuts quickly, head spinning with all the ways you can lie yourself through this.

“I don’t have it, maybe you lost it?” You say, shifting uncomfortably as he cocks an eyebrow at you. He looks at you as though you’re on fire, burning up with every lie that you feed him. You fumble, shaking your head at him and letting poor bluffs take the lead, “I just bought this one. I got it from a store in-“

“You’re a bad fucking liar.”

You freeze, words stuck in your throat as his voice rings in your ears. You’ve been caught like a deer in the headlights, eyes widening and panic setting in. His fingers drum against the side of the desk, and he almost looks like he’s found his new pet not behaving.

Glancing to the door, you swallow a thick ball of fear. It’s a few feet away, right there and waiting for you to run. Excuses and dishonesty coat your senses, trying to cover up lost tracks as you look longingly to the exit. The knife sits heavy in your pocket, a ruthless and terrible reminder of the fact that it doesn’t belong to you. You should’ve given it to him when you had the chance.

He waits for you to answer, and he’s gritting his teeth every second you stare at him all pretty and dumb - like you don’t know a goddamn thing. Honestly, a part of him feels a little prideful that you kept it in the first place. You intoxicate and torture him, forcing him to keep distance from the forest fire he wants to call home. The lieutenants been waiting for you to spark since the day he met you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, voice struggling to stay even as his eyes narrow at your words. You try your best to remain calm as the lieutenant continues to stare, skin flushed with fear as he shakes his head at you. “You’re a rotten brat, you know that?” He spits, watching with hate as you look away with your chin held high. You won’t admit defeat, not until it’s ripped from you with prying hands.

“It’s got my fucking name on the blade, sweetheart-“ he grounds out, leaning forward as his eyes burn into your own. “And unless you’ve got it branded on you too, I’d suggest being a good girl and giving it back.”

The room is laced with a thick silence while you shiver where you stand. You nod meekly to him from across the table, letting loose an uneven breath. You hold his gaze, stomach churning with months of suppressed fear and unrequited adoration. You speak to him softly, as if your voice is made of truth.

“You left it, and I found it. It’s mine now,”

He laughs at you, the sound hateful and violent in your ears. He pushes himself off the desk where he leans, the mask building a wall of irritation around him. His footsteps land heavy as he’s crossing the room, sauntering towards you with a determined look in his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he states, shaking his head condescendingly at you.

Three steps, and he’s right in front of you. His figure towers over you, face tilted down to look at you. He smells like tobacco and pine, and you notice the spread of ink that peeks out from his sleeve. A finger grazes under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his dark eyes. “Give it back.”

It’s a losing game, and you’re trying desperately to win. You shake your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. No.

The lieutenant drags over a chair, exhaling heavily as he takes a seat. His legs are spread, a hand resting on his thigh as you shake under his touch. He looks away for a moment, as if he’s mulling over something. Tsking softly to himself, he reaches a hand out and hooks it into your vest before tugging you down, “patience is wearing thin, sweetheart. I want it back, now.”

Your breath fans hot against his mask, eyes widening in shock as his grip tightens on you. His eyes are swimming with a haunting rage. The careful distance you’ve kept from his is crumbling, heart skipping a beat to catch up with the lieutenant. He pulls you closer, and you’re tripping under yourself as the mask stares back at you in challenge.

“I’m sorry, sir-” you whisper under your breath, the tip of your shoes hitting his boots as your shoulders sag. “I’m keeping it,” you say honestly, letting the shame wash over you. There’s nowhere to hide, all the time spent trying to get him to see you when you should’ve been running.

“Wrong answer.”

His hand drags you down and over him, knees pressing into your stomach as the breath is stolen from you. His hand finds its place along the back of your head, keeping you down as his fingers run along your back. Head spinning with all the ways in which you’ve been waiting for this, you squirm on his lap and brace your hands under you and on his thigh.

The lieutenants face drops down to you, mask brushing against your cheek. Your mind is blank now, the feel of his hot breath against your skin causing you to freeze. His dog tags dangle over your back, brushing against your shirt. “You should really mind your manners,” he admits, plucking the knife from your back pocket. “You know better than this.”

Your ass hangs up and over his knee, his hand resting along your upper thigh to keep you in place. The blade clicks open, and he lets loose a chuckle as he appreciates it. He flips it between his fingers out of sight, pulling back your hair as it takes place against your throat. Your eyes squeeze shut at the touch, the cool metal pressed against your skin and causing you to shiver.

There’s a moment where it’s just the two of you in silence. You count your breaths, biting your cheek and waiting patiently for the lieutenant to make his next move. Apologies are at the tip of your tongue, but fall short as his blade runs along your skin.

A sickening smack lands against your ass, body jumping from the unexpected touch. Desire runs up and along your spine, head cloudy with longing for a ghost in your haunted home. You can feel his hand rub softly into your skin, breath coming loose as he pulls away. “Lieutenant - please, I’m so sorry-”

Another smack, this time harder as it leaves a sting. “Simon - don’t you remember, love? That’s the name I’m gonna carve into your fucking skin,” he spits, digging the tip of his knife into your throat as you nod to him. Heat is pooling between your thighs that rub together in anticipation, lip caught between your teeth as you peel open your eyes and glance over your shoulder to him.

You regret ever having bothered.

He stares at you with a hateful lust, a smirk playing on his lips that are just out of your sight. Simon dips his fingers between your thighs and rubs soft circles, savoring the way you melt under his touch. You wiggle your hips, shifting on his knees and spreading your legs open just an inch. He notices, sending another smack to your ass. “Filthy,” he laughs, two fingers dragging along the wet desire that continues to grow within you. “You’re not even sorry - are you?”

You shake your head, nails digging into his thigh as his fingertips dig into your clit. “I am - I didn’t mean to steal it - I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Simon,”

His name is unexpected as it falls from you, but you say it like it belongs to you. The bulge in his pants is growing, dick twitching at the way you squirm on his lap. All those months spent dreaming of you on your knees is starting to catch up with him, and he just can’t run away. He grits his teeth, the sound of his name on your lips sending him straight to hell. Good thing he’s friends with the devil.

Simon’s hands leave you suddenly, the knife clicking closed and set onto the table. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back until your neck is craned and your eyes begin to water at the pain. “If you really are sorry - then get on your knees and ask for forgiveness.”

He abruptly pushes you off his lap, and you tumble to the ground with your head smacking against the floor. You pull air into your lungs desperately, body recoiling from the shock of being thrown off of him. Hands pushing from under you to brace yourself, you look to him with innocent wide eyes and full lips that wobble in fear. He leans back in the chair, arms braced on the sides as he looks at your expectantly.

Shamefully, you crawl between his legs and sit on your knees. The knife sits alone on the table, watching you mockingly as you blink up to Simon. There’s a wide grin spread across his face, though you’re not able to see it. The mask keeps you from him, a careful distance that he isn’t willing to give up yet.

“I’m really sorry,” you mumble softly, blushing crimson as his hands fall to his belt. “I’m sorry.” He unbuckles the belt, dragging down the zipper as his eyes remain on your pretty little face with eyes glossy from tears. He’s nodding to you, pushing down the waist of his pants until you’re staring at the swollen tip of his dick that’s wet from pre cum.

“I know you are - but I want to see you beg.”

His hand comes to lazily stroke himself, hissing as he squeezes the tip of himself. Your hands gently rest against his knees, chest coiling tight with a familiar ache. You sit there patient, waiting for his approval as Simon jerks himself off. The heat between your legs is burning, heart struggling to keep a steady pace.

Then he gives a small nod, hands drifting to the side as your mouth waters. You lean forward, little lips parting wide. Simon sighs softly as your lips wrap around him, cheeks hollowing and eyes fluttering closed.

Your head bobs in his lap, hand coming to stroke what you can’t take. His hand tangles itself in your hair, guiding your movements slowly. Your tongue dances along his tip, his hips bucking at the touch and fingers tightening their grip. Simon lets his head fall back, waves of pleasure rocking through him at the way you hum against his dick. “Shit, you’re such a nasty slut,” he laughs out.

Lips dragging along his shaft, you take him inch by devastating inch without hesitation. Your nails are digging into his knees, clawing at him to take control as he begins to unravel. His shoulders drop, groans pulled from him when drool dribbles out from your lip and onto him.

Simon watches as you force him to the base of your throat, soft gargling sounds emitting from you. You can’t take all of him, but your hand massages the rest of his shaft, the touch soft and delicate. His head is cloudy with desire, forcing your head further down until you start to choke, tears blurring your vision. He’s abandoning all self control, letting it slip from his fingertips like a thread of gold. Doesn’t matter when you’re on your knees for him, sucking his dick like its the only thing you’ve dreamed of.

“There’s my good girl,” he says, hips bucking into your mouth. You’re humming, bobbing your head yes as you continue to let him fuck your mouth. He feels sick with pleasure, hand pushing you further along his dick until he’s seeing stars.

You’re eagerly on your knees, chest tightening with every moan that fires from Simons lips and aims straight to you. It’s got you feeling confident, sitting up on your knees and licking your tongue along the bottom of him. “Fuck - that’s it, sweetheart,” he grounds out, and you’re pressing your thighs together to stop yourself from dripping. You look up at him, dick caught in your throat and eyes sparkling with obedience.

Your teeth drag along his shaft, causing him to slam your head down. You choke, struggling to pull back and catch your breath. “Bloody hell,” he muses, the pad of his thumb rubbing into your cheek softly. You pull away, lips smacking as you try to control your uneven breaths. Simon watches as you rub the drool and spit from your lips, eyes turning a shade darker when you give him an innocent smile.

“Come here.”

When you stand, his fingers push themselves between your thighs. His hand comes to undo your pants, your lip caught between your teeth as you wait patiently for him. He’s pushed down the hem of your pants, hands coming to grip your waist. You stand there silently, holding your breath when he glances up to you. “Well? Show me how sorry you are,”

It takes you a moment to peel away your clothes, strewn on another chair where his things lie. Your cheeks are bright red with embarrassment as your arms snake around his neck, hesitantly coming to sit in his lap. He leans over to grab the knife, flicking it open again and pressing it against your chest. “Simon,” you breath softly, fingertips brushing along the base of his neck.

“Can you forgive me?”

He shakes his head at you, muttering filthy curses as his fingers dig into your waist. You’ve been waiting for this, soaked through and blind with guilt, you let the tip of him brush against your folds. Simon drags the knife to your throat, watching you with his breath held as you sink slowly onto his dick.

It’s a feeling you’ve only ever dreamed of. He pushes into you completely, heart beginning to falter and freeze at the pure pleasure that spreads between you. Your stomach is tightening, hips grinding into him softly. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, the hold on his knife tightening until his knuckles are white. “I’m considering it.”

It wouldn’t be so bad - to spend the rest of your life chasing after this high.

Hesitation has been tossed aside, breaths becoming in sync as he watches with baited breath as you grind into his lap and mewl out moans.

You pull yourself up with shaking thighs, falling back into him and letting a moan slip past your lips. You bounce on his dick, hips rolling and grinding with his knife pressed against your throat. Disgraceful slick wet sounds are ringing in your ears like a sickening melody. His hands are pressing and pulling you down, his hips bucking up with your movements.

Simon garbs a handful of your ass, keeping you in balance as you ride him ruthlessly. The knot of pleasure is tying itself tight, and you’re whining in his ear from the ecstasy “That’s it - look at you, such a good girl riding my dick.”

“Mm-mm,” you moan, head falling into the crook of his neck as he drags the knife to your chest, letting the tip press against your skin. “Please - please, I’m so sorry, Simon,” you gasp out, tightening your arms around his neck as he slams his hips into you.

His touch is rough and ruthless, impatient with pleasure as he smacks your ass that’s now red with his handprint. His. The thought sends him spiraling, groaning loudly. Simon lets you roll into him, bouncing in his lap with his breath fanning hot against your neck. “Careful,” he laughs against you, fingers traveling to your clit to rub harsh circles. “I just might think you like this.”

And you do. In fact, you’re overwhelmed by the sensational desire that’s boiling within you. Your moans are becoming desperate, nails scarping along his shoulder blades as he continues to fuck you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, practically hanging off of him as he rubs the wet pleasure between your thighs.

It’s just the two of you. His hand is greedily snapping your hips back to him, and you meet the touch eagerly. There’s a fire that’s building within you - and neither of you can smother it out. Your chest is tightening, lips mumbling out pathetic moans as Simon laughs, the sound dark and tantalizing. “You do - don’t you?” He asks, and you’re nodding into his neck with pleas rippling off of you. “I know you do, I bet your pretty little pussy is gonna cum on my dick-” he states, suddenly grabbing your throat and forcing you to look at him.

You hold his stare, mewling out and begging for him as he rubs quickly. You’re losing your sanity, hips eagerly grinding into his lap until a simmering heat takes a hold of you, crying out in pleasure. “Right about now.” He finishes, watching as you smile innocently at him.

He still fucks you though, riding out your orgasm as he chases after his own.

It only takes him another moment until he’s following you, sloppy and lazy thrusts into your hips. Simon is grounding out your name, gritting his teeth and savoring the way your slick cunt tightens around him. His head falls back against the chair, breath hot and uneven as he snaps and slams his hips into you one last time.

Then you’re sitting pretty and patient in his lap, letting him grow soft in you with your lip caught in between your teeth. Your eyes are glossed over with happiness, stomach flipping as he closes the blade and leaves a hand resting against your waist. Seconds slip by in silence, buy neither of you seem to mind. His breath is slowly untangling itself from yours, gaze dark and haunting.

When you peel yourself away from him, shaking hands pulling up your pants and blushing scarlet, he tugs you closer to him. You button your pants, still wet from the way Simon pulled all those dirty little secrets from you like they were his to begin with. He lets his hands slide to your ass, giving it a final squeeze.

“Such a good girl,” he says softly, a smile playing at his lips as you blush deeper. He stands, cupping your face in his hands and looking at you with the same adoration that you’ve given him for months. “I think you’ve learned your lesson - yeah, sweetheart?”

You nod up to him eagerly, the strings of your heart snapping and breaking as he pulls himself from you. “Uh-huh,” you breathe, and you mean it. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, letting his finger commit the feel of your skin to memory.

“Be good for me - get some rest, love.”

He left the knife in your back pocket, and it sits there now - waiting for him to come back.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost riley #ghost riley x you #ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw22 #cod fanfic #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod mwii

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drdemonprince · 2 months

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I was never really certain about my transition in the way that most gatekeeping hormone prescribers and curious members of the public demand that a trans person be. I didn’t “always know” that I was not cisgender. I haven’t “always known” anything about myself. Very few truths about me have always remained true, my existence is too interpersonal, contextual, and ever-evolving for all of that. (So is most everyone else’s, I think). I don’t think that the fact I’d eventually choose to exercise my body autonomy at age 30 by taking hormones is a decision I could have foreseen when I was a child. All that I knew about being transgender when I was a kid was a fact that most children intuitively know: gender assignment was a violation of my freedom, of everyone’s freedom in fact, and it was wrong. As an infant and then a child and teenager, people kept imposing labels on me; they kept forcing me and my body into prescribed gendered boxes, and while the specific labels and boxes never really felt like the right ones, the most disturbing part about it all was the forcing. No coerced identity would have ever felt right. Children can tell when secrets are being kept from them, and when adults are restricting their choices. They notice that they and the other children are being lined up boy-girl, boy-girl, without ever being told what a girl or a boy even is. They can see their parents frowning when they reach for the doll with the shimmery hair, or climb atop the neighbor kid on the playground. Kids know that they are forbidden from sitting with their legs spread wide or flicking their wrist, and their gender illegibility is shamed in them, long before they get any answers about what gender means or where it comes from or why it’s so important that they make themselves easy to understand.

Like the cloned children in Never Let Me Go who grow up being conditioned for a life of forced organ donation, children in a cissexist society grow up conditioned to fall within certain gendered boundary lines, and by the time they learn that the reason for this is almost completely arbitrary, they can’t imagine any alternative. Not until some of them hear about gender transition and find the prospect very compelling, for some reason. You can say that reason is because some of us are inherently trans, but there’s absolutely nothing in the way of brain science, genetics research, or even sociological data to back that up. Besides, the search for a biological “reason” that people are transgender or queer runs counter to the goal of queer liberation in the long run. Science only needs to explain the existence of transgender people (or queer people more broadly) if our existence is in some way aberrant or a problem. If queerness is accepted as a form of human diversity that simply exists, then there is no need to excuse it by claiming that it is never a choice. It can be a choice, if a person wants to make it, and hopefully it satisfies them, but maybe it won’t. Freedom to choose means freedom to forever be dissatisfied, to search endlessly for more, and yes, to capable of making a mistake. I would say that viewing myself as transgender was a choice. I decided to break away from the straight, female categories to which I had been assigned, and doing so allowed me to view the legal and societal power structures that had restricted me more clearly. It helped me better understand myself. But that does not mean the actual act of breaking away was always the truest reflection of who I am. The version of me that transitioned was a person on the run — and how a person behaves, thinks, and self-conceives when they are fleeing is not a great reflection of whom they might be if they were safe. If we all lived in a world free from mandatory gender assignment, and where our bodies were not mined for meaning about the kinds of sex we liked, the clothing we should wear, the personality qualities we have, the roles we should play in society, and the connections we are allowed to form with others, who knows who each of us might be. But none of us get to live in that world, or ever gets completely free from the frameworks of heterosexuality and the gender binary. These frameworks shape every legal institution we encounter, every school we attend, every item of clothing we put on, every substance we take into our bodies, every piece of paperwork that ever gets printed about us, and every look another person ever gives us. And so we make due with rewriting and recombining those frameworks as best we can. It should come as no surprise that those us who break away from the binary have to experiment and revise how we understand ourselves quite a bit — sometimes getting things “wrong,” sometimes searching forever for the semblance of something “right.” Sometimes reveling in the “wrongness” of all the available options is kind of the point.

I wrote about my detransition, retransition, and the eternal dissatisfaction that is probably the corest truth of my identity. It's free to read or have narrated to you on my Substack.

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poohsources · 7 months

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🐝 * ― 𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑻𝑯𝑬 80𝑺 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛ i want to know what love is, i want you to show me. ❜ ❛ don't stop believin', holding on to that feeling. ❜ ❛ if you fall, i will catch you. ❜ ❛ and we can build this dream together, standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now. ❜ ❛ i'll stop the world and melt with you. ❜ ❛ some will win, some will lose. ❜ ❛ hold me now, it's hard for me to say i'm sorry. i just want you to stay. ❜ ❛ i'm sorry, but i'm just thinking of the right words to say. ❜ ❛ every time you go away, you take a piece of me with you. ❜ ❛ cause i'm your lady and you are my man. ❜ ❛ hello, is it me you're looking for? ❜ ❛ how can i just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace? ❜ ❛ don't go for second best. ❜ ❛ don't forget me when i'm gone. ❜ ❛ you're the best around, nothing's ever gonna keep you down. ❜ ❛ oh, can't you see, you belong to me? ❜ ❛ you're the meaning in my life, you're the inspiration. ❜ ❛ life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone. ❜ ❛ is there something i should know? ❜ ❛ once upon a time, i was falling in love. now i'm only falling apart. ❜ ❛ i've got the brains, you've got the looks. ❜ ❛ welcome to your life, there's no turning back. ❜ ❛ i'll be there for you, these five words i swear to you. ❜ ❛ i want to break free from your lies. ❜ ❛ i'll be gone in a day or two. ❜ ❛ i should've walked away. ❜ ❛ no matter what your friends might say, we'll find a way. ❜ ❛ it's such a shame our friendship had to end. ❜ ❛ this is the time to remember, 'cause it will not last forever. ❜ ❛ close your eyes, give me your hand, darling. ❜ ❛ it's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark. ❜ ❛ it doesn't matter who's wrong or right. ❜ ❛ who needs a heart when a heart can be broken? ❜ ❛ you live for the fight when that's all that you've got. ❜ ❛ don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them alive. ❜ ❛ do i stand in your way or am i the best thing you've had? ❜ ❛ i wanna dance with somebody, i wanna feel the heat with somebody. ❜ ❛ do you wanna feel how it feels? ❜ ❛ i don't know where you're going and i don't know why, but listen to your heart. ❜ ❛ love's the only thing that keeps me here, you're the reason that i'm hanging on. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #lyric starters #lyric sentence starters #rph #type: meme

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ellieluvr420 · 2 months

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Eye for an Eye Pt.1

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

Okay i know the vote isn’t over yet but there is a pretty overwhelming majority so here it is! i’m sorry if this is not what u wanted but i promise friends?never is gonna still be getting regular updates, that will be prioritised until it is complete i was just too excited to not put a little something out. love u all as always xxxxxxxx

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In and out. In and out. Focus on your breathing, focus on it to quell the pit of rage burning deep inside you. That was all you had done for weeks and even at the resolution, when everything was as it should be, still the fire burned on. In and fucking out. Your breaths got deeper, shakier, more frequent again as the weight of her sleeping peacefully by your side consumed you, it had once consumed you with love and it still did, quietly in the background, but it was now overshadowed by the screaming torment of the rage you felt when you looked at her or even felt her presence. It had been like this ever since she got back. Weeks and weeks of refused touches, unanswered questions, shameful glances, you were stuck in this loop because she kept you in the dark. But humans adapt, better than most, so you adapted to the dark, learned to sneak around in it, hunt in it, live in it. You could never leave, neither could she, you were bound cosmically, and you cursed it every day. It was a paradox; how could you love someone so much you felt like your world would burn if they weren’t in it but hate them so much you never wanted to see them again? You couldn’t make sense of it, she’d come to understand your feelings but she was blissfully ignorant to how the swarm of indifference surged through your mind and clamped down on your heart.

You sighed and spared a glance at her sleeping form, the peaceful expression of her face only screaming at you to smother it with the pillow you had laid restlessly on. Weeks and weeks, every morning, you wake up, you stare at her sleeping face and you wish you could just make her sleep forever, it made you want to join her, to sleep and never wake. The anger had become so palpable you actually dreamed of killing her and then yourself just to break free from this never-ending cycle. You tip-toed around each other, you avoiding her like she was the plague because in your mind she was, and her treating you like an unexploded bomb that could go off at the slightest wrong movement. She knew it was her fault, she had made you this way but she had to believe you could both move past it without her shedding light on where she had disappeared off to those months ago. She knew what it would do to you both, leaving for three months without a word, just a quickly written note, no warning, no reassurance, just vanishing. She knew it was stupid to think she could come back without a word as to where she had went and everything would be the same but there was a tiny sliver of hope in her that it could happen. That hope was dashed away when a door was slammed in her face and not opened for her again for two weeks but when it did eventually open, that tiny sliver of hope came flooding back, a flame had ignited in her at the thought that everything would be okay but the flame was slowly dying the more weeks went by without a change in your demeanour. She could feel the hatred, the resentment, the hurt radiating off of you whenever you were near and there was nothing she could do to stop it anymore, you were stubborn, that she knew, but this, this was torture, karma getting its own back at her.

You couldn’t contain it anymore, the energy within you, staring at the wall and focusing on your breathing couldn’t help you now so you threw the covers off of you, rushing out of bed to storm out of the bedroom.

“Babe?” Her quiet, groggy voice sounded out from behind you and your body burned.

“What Abby?”

“Where are you going?”

“I dunno, be back soon.” You echoed the words in her letter and it stung, a physical pain ricocheting through her chest making it hard for her to breathe as she jumped out of bed to follow you.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You paused and spun to face her, your dark circles were craters under your eyes, your face gaunt and paler than it typically was, your eyes completely vacant, devoid of any emotion.

“I mean I don’t know. Don’t try to find me.” She wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose but once again you echoed the contents of her letter as you yanked your boots from the ground, opening the door and slamming it behind you without even a glimpse over your shoulder at her defeated expression. She huffed and dragged her hands down her face as she reluctantly went back to her room, collapsing on the bed. It was times like these she was glad Isaac had moved her to a suite of her own, the thought of Manny witnessing this sending a shiver through her. She knew you could both get through this, she knew, so why was doubt invading her every cell?

You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t know where you were going, you couldn’t go back to your room, it only reminded you of the memories of those three months when she had disappeared and you had locked yourself away, refusing assignments, refusing most food, refusing contact with anyone that wasn’t her. It was too painful to be there, it made being in Abby’s room calming despite her looming presence but this morning it had overwhelmed you, so you kept walking and walking until you ended up at the mess hall. You didn’t remember taking the route there but you had and it was too late to turn back because eyes were on you, familiar eyes, beckoning you over to them.

“Hey stranger! Where you been hiding?” Manny, he had once been a positive presence in your life but he was the antithesis of that now, he had left with her, they had all left with her, leaving you here in the dark and they wanted to play nice now they’re back, you couldn’t. His smile juxtaposed your death glare as you scoffed and looked past him like he wasn’t even there. He could see the anguish in your face, evident in all your features that were nowhere near the radiance you typically emitted, he knew what had happened to you, who had happened to you, his part in it weighing on him heavily. You don’t acknowledge him, you walk straight past him like he’s a ghost, straight past him and all the others waiting expectantly for any sign of forgiveness, straight to the double doors at the other end of the hall, ramming through them like you’re made of steel. “Well fuck.” He mutters as they all watch you storm away out of their sight.

“Are you surprised?” Nora remarks.

“Well no but it’s been almost two months now. She hasn’t cracked one bit.” His eyes never leaving the doors you had exited through.

“She’s seeing Abby, has she said anything about how she’s been?” Mel chimed in with a concerned tone.

“Nada. Fucking nada. It’s radio silence from both of ‘em. I barely even see Abby unless we’re on assignments together because she’s always locked up in her room. I’m worried about ‘em both.” His voice was laced with sadness and there was a tense atmosphere clouding over them as there always was when what they had done was brought up, it was never directly spoken about, it felt like poison to speak it aloud but even a hint of it was enough to make them all shrink into themselves, becoming wrapped in their thoughts.

You trailed the halls of the stadium, circling round and round until your legs ached and your mouth was dry, you had seen people dotted here and there as you walked, smiling politely at any that you mistakenly made eye contact with. You walked past another faceless body as the deafening thoughts drummed around your mind. There was a muffled echo, distant but growing closer until you’re interrupted by a hand enclosing around your wrist, you knew who it belonged to without even having to look causing you to snatch your wrist free from their grasp as you jumped back with a scowl.

“What are you doing? I was worried.” You scoffed at her concerned expression as her eyebrows scrunched. You went to walk away but she was too quick, hands squeezing your hips and pushing you back against the wall you had jumped toward in a bid to escape her first grasp. “Stop fucking walking away from me. When is it gonna end?” You just stared back in disbelief, unmoving in her strong grip, her glassy eyes mocking you, she doesn’t care, her actions had been the opposite of someone who had cared.

“You’re so fucking full of it Abby. You’re worried? Bite me, you don’t worry about anyone other than you.” You spat at her, the shock of your words causing her to loosen her grip around you enough for you to break free and begin storming away from her again.

“I- I just wanna talk. Please.”

“You had your chance to talk. You had so many fucking chances and you wasted them so don’t give me that shit. You wanna feel better about what you did and my forgiveness is the only thing that will do that. Too fucking bad Abby.” You don’t slow as you grit over your shoulder to her but neither does she, following your every movement only a step behind.

“Well if you can’t forgive me why are you still with me? Why do you sleep at mine every night? Why do you still say you love me back when I tell you I love you? What’s the fucking point of it?” You freeze, a choked sob catching in your throat as you look up to the ceiling to beg the tears to just stay in your eyes.

“Because I do love you Abby.” You mutter barely loud enough for her to hear. “How don’t you understand that?” You sound broken, like a shell of yourself.

“Make me understand.” You scoff and chuckle dryly at her as you shake your head.

“I don’t owe you that.” You continue walking again but this time she doesn’t follow, stuck in her place.

“I have patrol! I won’t be back until later.” She calls out to you.

“Thanks for the heads up!” You call back sarcastically. “This time.” You mutter under your breath as you storm further and further from Abby.

You don’t know why you ended up back at Abby’s room, it was so stupid, you couldn’t stand seeing her but her room was the only place that felt safe, you stared at the key that she had once slammed down in front of you as you refused to acknowledge her pleads to just talk, the memory making your blood run cold. It was the first time you had even answered her repeated pounds against your door, two weeks after she had returned, though you opening the door made absolutely no difference because it was like she wasn’t there at all. You had unlatched the door, so it opened a sliver before immediately walking away from it leaving her to hesitantly follow you inside. She watched as you sunk down onto your bed, staring at the wall opposite instead of sparing a glance towards her as she stood over you. She had just stared down at you, pleading with you silently to just look at her but you never did. She slammed the spare key to her room down on your bedside table before sighing and leaving disappointed for what was only the first time to come over the next two weeks. It became a routine, she’d knock, you’d unlock the door and walk away, she’d come in to desperately get you to reason with her but when you showed no signs of a change in your demeanour, she’d give up and leave you alone, letting herself out shamefully. She was just too good at leaving you.

When you had turned up at her door, using the key she had given you, she was stunned, almost so stunned she didn’t see your tear-streaked cheeks and red, glassy eyes but she did notice, she noticed and a lump formed in her throat that she desperately tried to swallow down as she just watched you. Even in her own room you barely acknowledged her only choosing to mutter a small ‘can I stay here tonight?’, the second she vigorously nodded her head you drifted towards her bed, collapsing onto it and immediately burying your face into the pillow to muffle your sobs. She had rubbed your back but when she tried to cuddle into you and wrap you in her embrace you pushed her away hard enough that she didn’t try again. You had gone back to hers everyday since then and the routine hadn’t changed from that point on though you had grown from hurt and beaten down to hostile and the tense atmosphere was painfully tangible. It remained the same as you let yourself into her room, knowing she would eventually come back from patrol later that day and you’d have to face her once again

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Abby felt completely dejected, she was tired and her adrenaline that had powered her through today was fleeting, she was panicking about Owen after seeing Danny’s body and hearing what Nora had told her, everything was backwards and knowing you wouldn’t be there as a comfort to her only made her feel worse as she turned the key to unlock her room. She knew you were here but that made no difference these days, even when you were here you weren’t here and that broke her.

“Hey.” Her voice was meek and cracked as she looked at you, standing in front of her with the same vacant expression you had worn for months, she couldn’t hold it in anymore, the dam broke and hot, salty tears began flowing down her cheeks as her choked sobs filled the quiet of the room.

“What’s wrong?” You had moved closer, your eyebrows knitted together in concern as you spoke softly, juxtaposing your harsh tone she had gotten used to, it only made her cry more which drew you in closer until your hand was on her shoulder and squeezing. “Abby what happened?”

“I- nothing, nothing. We just got ambushed on patrol, I think I’m just tired I don’t know.” You nodded but you were looking at her like you were expecting her to continue, you were coaxing the words out of her and she had no control. “Owen shot Danny and now he’s missing and I just don’t know what to do. Nothing’s the same anymore.”

“No it isn’t.” Your voice wasn’t as soft as it had been, it wasn’t mean but it wasn’t soft, she warily peeked at your face and the sight of it hardened once again caused another choked sob to rack through her body. She stepped towards you and dropped down to her knees as she wrapped her large arms around your waist and squeezed as she pressed her cheek into your stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left the way I did and if I could take it back I would but I can’t keep doing this, I miss you and I miss us, I need you, everything’s different I need us to be the same. I’m sorry.” Your hand came to her hair, stroking gently.

“Tell me where you went.”

“I- I can’t.” She sobbed more as your hand snatched itself away from her hair before you reached behind you and desperately tried to unclasp her from your waist. “No please, please don’t go. Please I can’t do this without you.”

“I don’t fucking understand Abby, why won’t you just tell me?”

“You won’t be able to look at me the same.”

“I can’t look at you the same now so what difference does it make?” Her eyes meet yours as she looks up at you from her place on the floor and the sight of her lip wobbling as her cheeks were red and tear-streaked almost made your resolve waiver but you couldn’t. You wished you could forget but you couldn’t.

“Please.” She begged but it fell on deaf ears.

“Let me go Abby.” She blew out a breath as her eyes clamped shut and she swallowed a sob, her arms loosened around you letting you break free from her grasp to practically run to the front door and leave. She didn’t watch you go from her position on the floor, she just sat and collapsed into a fit of sobs as her door slammed signalling your departure. You couldn’t keep it together once you had walked out of her room, everything felt like it was coming crashing down as you paced the halls. It wasn’t enough to leave Abby’s room, you still felt suffocated, you needed to get out of the stadium. You headed straight for the secret hole in the fence that only you and Abby knew about to make your escape and the second you emerged into the drizzly outside of Seattle you could feel your lungs filling with air that you desperately needed. You considered going back in but when you turned back, your lungs felt like they were constricting again and you ran in the complete opposite direction until your legs were tired and your lungs burned. You didn’t have a gun, or a knife, you were completely defenceless so when you heard the shrill cries of infected, you immediately looked for an entrance into any one of the buildings that surrounded you.

You spotted a window open just one story up at an old theatre and you sprinted towards it and up the stairs of the fire escape to climb through. Once you were inside, you shut the window softly and began making your way through what you assumed was the backstage area of the theatre, the red, velvet curtains called you towards them and as you stepped through you gasped at the sight of an auburn-haired girl sleeping on one of the chairs. She looked a couple years younger than you, nineteen or twenty you assumed, and despite the sleep her face still looked screwed up and tense. You edged closer to her, careful not to make any noise and when you saw her gun on the seat next to her you grabbed it, pointing it at her while kicking at her shoe. She stirred slightly and then her eyes flashed open revealing bright green eyes staring back at you in disbelief.

“Don’t scream. Who are you?”

tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv

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tragicdruid · 3 days

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Lost Love (2)

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, lots of yearning, platonic relationship, post-Archon quest

Word Count: 600+

Summary: After erasing himself from Irminsul, Wanderer thinks it will fix all of his problems. Instead, he finds himself with regrets.

Part 1 | Part 2

"You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"

Those words continued to haunt him every time he sees you walking through Sumeru City's marketplace. That smile, those eyes --- he hates how much he misses them; how much he misses you. There's a tug in his chest whenever you look his way, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Maybe it's shame. Maybe he's just a coward. Neither of which he'd ever admit to.

Despite this, his heart continues to yearn for you. But it's too late, he decided. You have no memory of him. He is nothing to you, and you seem so at peace that he doesn't have the heart to break it.

It's the afternoon when he happens to come across you buying some baked treats for lunch. There's a lightness to your movement that comes from abandoning the Fatui and living a free life. Without his influence, he wonders what Irminsul has replaced your motives with to leave you alone here in the city. Wanderer stands at a nearby stall, casting you a subtle glance as he watches your hands smoothly take two wrapped pieces of bread. Pretty hands he wishes he could hold one last time.

"Just two will do, thanks. Well, actually, can I also get..."

Your voice is mostly the same, but there's a peace to it that he doesn't recognize. You sound happier without him; less stressed. Content. It's a pleasant sound that makes his chest clench. Would you have sounded this lovely had you not approached him back when he was Scaramouche? It's something he doesn't want to think about.

Wanderer snaps out of his thoughts as you thank the baker once more, turning away with a smile with a bag of baked goods in hand. Despite his noble intentions, he is not a noble man. Neither is he selfish, but he can be so so greedy.

As you begin to walk down the path towards another stall, he intercepts you. Your shoulders bump lightly, enough to catch your attention.

"Ah, excuse me," you exclaim apologetically, a polite small smile on your lips.

It's not enough. He wants to see that affectionate smile you once gave him. The one that makes your eyes twinkle.

"Be more careful," he responds coolly, tipping his hat slightly forward to avoid your gaze.

But he simply can't help himself. He turns his head upward once more and catches your raised brow, eyes curious as you take in his expression. Your eyes were always beautiful up close, especially when lit up by the sun.

"You bumped into me," you reply, tone both accusatory and amused. "But I'll let it slide though since you're cute."

Wanderer feels a familiar heat in his cheeks. It's something so childish to be flattered by, but it's only because it's coming from you. He can only scoff in turn, glancing to the side as he tries to focus on anything other than you...but his eyes finds their way back as they lock onto that smile. It's full of mirth and sweet amusement. He's the only one you should be smiling like that for.

"Trying to use flattery to divert blame? How childish," he chuckles, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

A huff of a laugh leaves you as you roll your eyes. "It's not flattery if it's the truth." You look him up and down with interest and curiosity. It's clear that he's not from the city; though neither are you.

"Do you want to have lunch?" You offer with a small smirk. "We can argue semantics over some treats."

You hold up your paper bag, giving it a light shake.

He knows that he should say no and let you go on your merry way, but the chance to be this close to you is too tempting to pass up.

"I don't have anything better to do. Why not?" His voice is cool and collected, but he feels anything other than that. Had he a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.

Maybe this time, he could do things right.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #td;writing #td;genshin

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voonroo · 7 months

Text

Palm Kisser (affectionate)

Simeon made it seem like a simple task to love you so much, and devote himself to you and only you. He hardly ever shied away from your affections, instead openly adjusting and welcoming them in split seconds. He did partake in creating his own way of showing his love for you as well, though, not only with words but also his actions.

The man is truly an angel. A darling of a partner, always able to make his love for you significantly known. Then again, it wouldn't be hard to miss his love-filled stare with him right in front of you, crouched down on one knee and bowing his head to place a delicate kiss on the back of your hand. His eyes pierce you as he looks up at you, both of his hands holding yours while your other rests on his head, in his hair. He continues giving kiss after kiss to your hand. One may think of the look in his eyes as lustful, but it is of pure devotion, unspoken promises, and praise.

He turned your hand over, placing a soft kiss on the palm of your hand, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. A beat of silence follows before his eyes trail down your arm and he lets out a quiet sigh. His eyelids fluttered closed briefly before flickering back open and darting to you again.

"Are you alright, Simeon?" Your voice fills the empty room with a quiet sense of sincerity.

"Hmm?" His gaze never left yours as he gave a quiet hum. He tilts his head ever so slightly as if he didn't hear you, nudging your hand against his face during the process before giving an answer. "I would say I'm quite alright." He responds with that boyish smile of his. At times it's easy to forget just how long your lover has truly lived for, but he's so young-spirited that you can't even tell. And quite frankly, you couldn't care either.

"Just checking." You whisper as your gaze matches his in showing affection for one another. A smile graces your face. As your lips turn up in a smile, so does Simeon's.

"I don't know how I could not be alright when I have someone like you standing in front of me, and loving me as well." He lets out a breathy chuckle. His eyes leave yours to look at your hand in his. Only thinking for a split second, he closes his eyes as he kisses your palm yet again. The sensation sends butterflies loose in your stomach as a faint blush coats your cheeks at your lover's display of affection.

"Oh please, Simeon you're-" You let out a quiet chuckle of your own looking away and ignoring the warmth dusting your face and the light feeling in your stomach.

"Oh, I'm what?" He's looking back up at you again. Half-lidded eyes searching yours, a small love-sick smile adorning his features. His hand trails up, gently holding your wrist, he leans forward and- without his eyes leaving yours, he places a kiss to your wrist. He moves back, his hand still holding onto you as he patiently waits for your reply.

Feeling light shivers crawl up your spine, you stiffen your back for a brief moment. "You're making me flustered..." Your expression matches his, a love-sick grin on your face.

"Would you like me to stop?" He looks at you, gauging your reaction. If you wanted him to stop then he would. But the look he was giving you made you think he already knew your answer.

You let out a sigh through your nose, exhaling slowly. "No... Not really." You wore a mock guilty look, he wouldn't shame you for anything and you knew that. That's why you can be so honest and calm around him. He doesn't mind, all he cares about is making you happy.

"Well then," He stood up from his position, his hand never leaving yours. Raising his free hand, he grazes your face, holding you gently as his thumb slowly moves across your skin. He's close, his lips almost touching yours. Never once did he break eye contact. "just let me know when to stop." He spoke with a kind smile, resting his forehead against yours.

Then, he kissed you. And he took his time doing so.

I suck at writing kiss scenes

Word Count: 726

Inbox Open

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mixiury · 10 months

Text

Here with you — Wanderer x GN! Reader

Summary: After a long walk with Wanderer, you ended up exhausted, taking a small nap with your companion in the middle of the forest.

A/N: I corrected some typos I noticed after reading this again. I am dyslexic and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there is still some. Please feel free to point them out!

"Come here, lie with me."

"Why would I? To get my clothes dirty like yours? No thanks." Wanderer answered to your request almost instantly, showing little interest in changing his mind.

Both of you have been walking for hours now, enjoying the cool breeze that the trees of the Sumeru forest release.

It's hard to keep track of time in a place like this, especially when the silence and calm stretches out in its entirety and all you can hear is the soft melody of the birds with the snapping grass and leaves you are stepping on the ground while you walk.

But even though your hiking companion doesn't need to take breaks and the beautiful views of the landscapes along the way help in motivating you to continue exploring, you soon end up finding your feet and legs demanding you to rest, lying down on a small and comfortable hill, while Wanderer reluctantly agrees to wait for you a few minutes.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me? The sun is nice." You know what his response is going to be, but you keep insisting anyways, hoping that some miracle will happen that would make him change his mind and rest alongside you. However, as was from being expected, his head just turned away, ignoring your request with the same stubborness that characterizes him.

Defeated, you find solace in the warm sunlight and fresh grass you lie on, slowly imbuing yourself in its trap as your eyelids fight to stay open.

It is not until he notices how quiet you have become that Wanderer's gaze finally returned to your sleeping figure, noticing each deep breath you take as your chest rises and falls steadily, with nothing to interrupt you from falling into your calm, soft slumber.

It's annoying how you allow to put yourself in such a comfortable state in the middle of nowhere. As if, in this precise moment, nothing else mattered.

It seems like you don't know how easy of a target you are right now, not worrying about your surroundings and all the dangers that are around you. It only takes a few seconds to end a human's life and it's much easier when you're in such a vulnerable and peaceful state that you wouldn't even be able to react before you feel the pain of your aggressor hurting you.

And yet, the mere thought of it makes him feel sick and jealous of you at the same time. How can you live your life so carelessly? Is it because you don't have any self-prevention instincts inside that empty brain of yours? Or are you just so naive that, even knowing how he can easily leave you to your own devices, you still trust him enough to allow yourself to be in this position?

Knowing you will probably never tell him, he decides to search the answer by himself, quietly approaching you and laying down next to you, hoping that the sound of the grass rustling next to you won't wake you up or interrupt your dreams as he watches you in complete silence.

And it's only now, after he finally gave into your request, that he understood what you were talking about.

The faint rays of the sun really feel like a bliss the moment they caress your face, intense enough to embrace you with their warmth but not to the point of burning you. Contrasting with the cloudy and gloomy Inazuma mornings he had grown used to.

It has been so long since he felt this warmth and calmness, still staring at you steadily and letting himself enjoy the peaceful nature of the moment.

It feels illegal that him, out of all people, could experience an instance like this. He, whom from the day of his creation the only birthright that has been given to him was an eternity of grievance, shame and solitude, simply lying on the grass without any other concern but you.

He doesn't understand it but he wants to. Your presence itself has already helped him understand a hint of your normalicy, something that he had spent decades chasing and longing for but was never able to hold for long enough to call it his. And yet, he lets himself fall into your trap and comfort, finally taking a break from all the thoughts that have been stuck in his mind as he simply rests by your side.

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer fluff #scaramouche fluff

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sky-is-the-limit · 4 months

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Part 2 of the Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick headcanons.

Ah, Kyle Garrick and his competitiveness.

The game would be simple. Who would last longer without touching each other.

Fun, right? At first, it'd start harmless, taking your friend's advice to try that with your boyfriend, thinking that he'd break by the end of the night, desperate for your touch. How foolish you were to suggest that.

By the third day, your patience would run thin. Not only would Kyle act nonchalant about it, but he'd also display signs that he could easily live without your affections for a lot longer. What's a girl gonna do? Play dirty.

It'd start with you walking around in the most provocative lingerie you could find, sitting next to him on the sofa with legs spread open, the most tempting invitation, only for him to find more interest in watching the film than his girlfriend putting all seven deadly sins to shame.

The next day would start with you conveniently forgetting your towel, stepping out of the bathroom dripping in water and sweet fragrances only for him to mutter a "You'll catch a cold, darling." With a hint of sarcasm and the self-control of a saint.

All you'd have to do would be to admit defeat and beg. You could see it in his honey-coloured eyes, the anticipation. It'd be a game of pride and punishment to never underestimate him.

If he could frustrate you that much in a bet that you set up yourself, you wouldn't even want to imagine how he'd act in an open field with a gun in his hand and his real enemy only a few meters away. Your sweet, loving boyfriend, Kyle, was no longer present in your bedroom. It was Sergeant Garrick and he was determined to win.

"Go on, say it. Use your words, baby." The satisfaction in your defeat would be transparently clear on his face.

The sparkle in his eyes, the daring smirk on his lips and the unsurpassed provocation in his gaze at the sight of you on your knees before him, with your palms on his thighs and mouth wide open for his thumb to caress your bottom lip.

"You win, happy now-" The attitude in your tone would be cut short by his finger entering your mouth without warning, earning a graphic obscene moan from your desperate body.

"Mhm, now beg for it. Beg for me to touch you." Kyle's face would be vexing, offensive to your fragile ego and yet so beautiful, oozing with desire. His gravelly tone would lead your cheeks to flush with heat, lips slightly parted as you'd try your best to find the right words to respond.

His intoxicating presence would be enough to make your mind not comply with the request as you'd go blank. Within a second, his free hand would send you into a frenzy as he'd push his grey sweatpants to reveal his erected throbbing cock right in front of your face, begging to be touched.

"Please, Kyle-" Not enough. His deep sigh would be a clear indication and so he'd continue the game, running his palm up and down his length to coat it with glistening pre-cum before leaning forward to touch the tip against your lips.

"Is that the best you can do? After setting yourself up and being untouched for days? I'm kinda disappointed, angel." The calmness of his voice would be a mockery to your shaking self as he'd nonchalanty guide his length across your cheeks to paint them with his slick.

"Please, please Kyle! I need you to fuck me- need you to use me, please!" The heat pooling at the pit of your abdomen would be burning your skin to his touch, the effects of his commanding demeanour spreading into you like a contagious curse to leave your panties damp with arousal.

"That's my girl. Now open your mouth wide for me."

#cod #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz smut #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle garrick smut #cod smut #141 x reader #tf 141 #captain price smut

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nanowrimo · 10 months

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5 Tips for Building a Sustainable Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a great writing app—whether you’re writing solo or with a co-author. Here are a few tips for building a sustainable writing practice, brought to you by author Ariana Brown and First Draft Pro.

We’ve all heard the advice to “write every day,” as if it were that easy! Translation: suck it up, no one cares if you’re tired. But what if there was another way to get writing done, without being unkind to yourself?

Hi, I’m Ariana Brown, and I teach writers how to create a writing practice that is sustainable, flexible, and fulfilling. Most of my students are chronically ill, disabled, neurodivergent, or simply exhausted from the daily stresses of life. I know writing isn’t your only responsibility—capitalism makes sure of that! But I strongly believe that writing should be an enjoyable activity you look forward to.

Below I’ve compiled my top tips for exhausted writers who want to be kinder to themselves—and still get the work done.

1. Add pleasure to your writing routine.

Sensory pleasures are neither frivolous nor are they only for children. They’re a crucial part of being alive! They give us something to look forward to when times are tough and we need motivation. Candles, soft blankets, cold beverages, mood lighting, dance breaks, yummy treats—whatever you choose, make sure it’s something you love. Paint your nails a fun color so you have something beautiful to look at while you’re typing away. Make a playlist of your favorite songs and after you finish a chapter, blast one song so loudly you have to get up and dance. Then, get back to writing. Remember, even for the most focused among us, pleasure is a better motivator than shame.

2. Be clear about your intentions.

What brought you to writing in the first place? For some, it was the ability to escape into our imaginations. For others, it was the chance to finally express what we’d been holding inside. Identify your reason for writing, then ask yourself: Am I still enjoying this? Do I still feel connected to my reason for writing? If not, explore how you can strengthen your connection to your inner child’s reason for writing.

3. Work with your brain, not against it.

If we know that everyone’s brain works differently, why do we force strict discipline and linear processes on ourselves? My advice: find or create a writing process that works for you. Maybe you love outlines; maybe you prefer to see where the words take you. Either way, make space for wandering, play, and discovery as you write. Take brain breaks. Doodle, map, dance, and draw when you get distracted. Body double with other writers, try new exercises and prompts to make the writing sing, and take plenty of breaks to stretch your body and talk to friends. We come to writing with our whole selves. Listen to your body, don’t shut it off.

4. Find a writing community.

You don’t have to wait for a community to come to you! I offer co-writing sessions on Zoom four times a month for my Patreon supporters, but do what works for you. Attend local open mics as an audience member and cheer on your peers. Invite your best friends to your living room once a month for a two hour writing/crafting session. Or check your local library and bookstores for free workshops and author events. You don’t have to do this work alone.

5. Develop a gratitude practice.

Finishing your draft is a huge accomplishment, but it’s not the only milestone to be celebrated. Consider creating opportunities to thank yourself throughout your writing practice. You’re doing an amazing and difficult thing. The fact that you keep showing up is worthy of celebration. Whether you decide to journal, rest, pray, meditate, or reward yourself, a little gratitude goes a long way.

Ariana Brown is a queer writer from San Antonio, TX, based in Houston. She is the author of We Are Owed (Grieveland, 2021) and Sana Sana (Game Over Books, 2020), and a national collegiate poetry slam champion. Ariana holds an MFA in Poetry, MS in Library and Information Science, and a BA in African Diaspora Studies and Mexican American Studies. She has been writing, teaching, and performing for over a decade. Follow her online @ArianaThePoet and www.arianabrown.com.

#nanowrimo #writing advice #executive dysfunction #neurodivergent writers #disabled writers #by nano sponsor #first draft pro #ariana brown

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makeyoumine69 · 6 months

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Sorry Not Sorry (commission)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: After a rough scene outside the club, Patrick decides to teach you some manners in a pretty dangerous way, so the next time you will keep your mouth shut.

CONTAINS: Smut, mild dub-con, Daddy kink, Degradation kink (slut-shaming), oral sex (Patrick receiving), gun play, hitting, choking (on his dick lmao), cum swallowing, fingering, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, pet names, Dom!Patrick, hate sex (kinda).

WORDS: 1.7k

A/N: This is a commission for my dear @emmieson, thanks so much for asking me to write for you, I enjoyed every moment of it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]💕

You knew that Bateman hated any sign of disrespect or bad attitude - he was the man of power who craved control as it was his most addictive drug - to have you on a short leash. But everyone and everything had its own limits, so when Patrick deliberately flirted with some random chick in the club that night, you didn't pretend to be okay with it, hell no.

After a brief argument outside the club, Patrick dragged you into the first cab he saw. The ride seemed to take forever as you were both so irritated and angry that the taxi driver had to turn around to make sure you were not going to destroy his car.

In the elevator, Bateman almost slammed you against the metal wall, his big hand wrapped around your throat. "You better keep your mouth shut or -"

"Or what?" You replied challengingly, clawing at his perfect skin, infuriating him even more. "You would kill me?"

With a low chuckle, Patrick tilted his head to the side for a moment before pulling you closer, his hot mouth just inches from yours.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, you little brat," his grip tightened, causing your heart to skip a beat. "And believe me - you don't want to know what I mean."

"Get off me!" You tried to break free, but it only encouraged him to hold you closer, the heavy scent of his perfume almost intoxicating. "If you think you can flirt with every bitch around - you're so fucking wrong!"

Bateman just grinned devilishly as the polished doors of the elevator opened on the right floor. Sniffing through his flushed nostrils, he grabbed you into his strong arms and pulled you out of the elevator, not missing a chance to nip at your neck to make you literally squirm.

"Such a stubborn girl," he growled while opening the door to his apartment. "Stay still or I'll fuck you right here," Pateman yanked you roughly, squeezing your hip painfully, you could feel his fingers digging into your tender skin. " Is that what you want?"

"N-no," you whimpered back and stopped wiggling. "It... it hurts, Patrick!"

His gruff chuckling echoed in your ears before you heard a loud click of the door lock and the next moment Bateman was pulling you into his apartment – when you were inside he finally let you go and you almost fell to the floor at how unexpectedly he did it.

"God, you're a fucking maniac," you hissed, stroking your bruised wrist and catching your breath. "I knew I shouldn't have agreed to go out with you tonight!"

Your out-of-control tantrum didn't seem to bother Patrick at all, as he just walked past you into his bedroom. For a brief moment you urged to follow him, but then you decided to stay in the living room. Panting, you sat down on the big white couch, which brought back so many memories of the amazing moments he had fucked you right there.

"Patrick," you began without turning around to check on him, your hands nervously fiddling with the soft fabric of your dress. "I think we need to have a serious talk."

"Oh yeah?" His suddenly raspy voice sounded so mysterious, but you fought the temptation to look back. "You think so?"

With every soft footstep, your heart was beating faster, because there was something strange, even dangerous, in the way he spoke.

"Yes," you exhaled as he stopped just behind the couch. "Because... because you crossed the line and..."

A sudden touch of cold metal against your neck made you flinch, but just as you tried to identify what it was, Bateman grabbed your neck, anchoring you in place.

"Don't fucking move," he growled into your ear before tonguing the area around it. "You don't want to get a bullet, right?"

A bullet?

Swallowing hard, you wrinkled the cushion and closed your eyes for a second. "Pat-Patrick...w-what are you doing?"

"Uh, uh, no more ‘Patrick’," Bateman growled, tilting your head to the side so that the gun was now poking right at your throbbing artery. "Try again better."

"Ahhh," a muffled moan instantly fell from your dry lips as he slid his hand under your dress, his sneaky fingers masterfully teasing your hard nipple. "I'm... I'm sorry, sir."

"Get down on your knees," he lingered on the last word, savoring how helpless and vulnerable you were now. "Do it slowly."

Trembling visibly, you didn't dare to make him wait and just did what he asked, but you still couldn't believe that he was threatening you with a gun.

"Good, good," Patrick crooned and walked around the couch, towering over you like a fucking mountain. "Now... I want you to open that pretty little mouth and show me your fucking sharp tongue that I sometimes want to rip out."

Despite all your efforts to convince yourself that this was just one of Bateman's wicked games, his words made your blood run cold, but worst of all, your body somehow found it arousing. After a short pause, you stuck out your tongue and looked up at him with the most natural devotion you could master.

Bateman had no choice but to snicker. "You like being treated like that, don't you?" He asked, twirling the gun on his finger - a broad, vicious smile never leaving his perfect face. "Because you're a whore. A whore who likes to be degraded and ruined," he slowly brought the gun closer to your mouth until the barrel slid along your tongue. "'C'mon, I'm not gonna judge you," his mocking laughter only made your face burn from the inside, but when you saw him unbuckle his belt, you had to close your eyes to save whatever sanity you had left. "Lick it, slut. Polish it as if it were my dick."

There was no chance to disobey even if you wanted to, but you didn't because your body betrayed you once again - Bateman knew exactly how to push the right buttons so that in the end it was you who was yearning for more.

Fucking bastard.

Without saying anything, you began to lap at the gun, closing your eyes in embarrassment, but he immediately yanked at your hair to force you to look at him, and once again you had to submit.

"Dirty slut, look at you," Bateman taunted as he watched you attentively play with the gun while his free hand was busy warming him up, stroking his throbbing length with persistent movements. "Open it," his suddenly loud voice made you almost bite your tongue. "Open your fucking mouth so I can see it!"

Before you knew it, a hard, quick slap landed on your right cheek. "Sorry, I'm... I'm sorry sir..." you hiccuped, trying to hold back a sob, but in the next moment you were already thinking about how not to fucking choke on his huge dick that was brutally shoved down your throat without any warning. "Mmmhm..."

Seeing you gagging only inflamed his arousal, making him harder than ever and spurring him on to thrust into your mouth with all his might. Soon you would hear the thud of a falling gun as Patrick used both hands to grab a handful of your hair, almost winding it around his fist.

"Fuck," the man couldn't help but throw his head back, quickening the speed of his hips as they rammed into your face. "Your mouth feels so... fucking good."

Moaning around his meaty cock, you had to lean against his strong body to prevent yourself from choking, doing your best to breathe out through your nose, as shimmering tears finally ran down your strained face. As if that was not enough, Bateman abruptly pulled out with a loud pop before deftly picking you up and throwing you on the white couch behind you.

"A-aww, Daddy," you whimpered pitifully as he manhandled you so easily, his skilled hands finding their way under your skirt without any resistance, and in the next moment you were already shaking erratically from the pulsating, burning sensation in your lower body as Patrick moved your damp panties aside and pressed his thumb against your clit. "Mmhm...oh my goodness...I'm so wet...I'm so fucking wet!"

"Shut your mouth," Bateman grunted, squeezing your cheeks rather painfully while his long fingers explored your oozing folds with a sound so fucking lewd that it almost pushed you over the edge. "I didn't ask you to speak, you stupid little bitch!"

With a powerful thrust, the brown-haired man pushed his thick cock back into your mouth, not forgetting to play with your lascivious pussy, rubbing your little bud with fierce circular motions.

"Mhhhm, Daddy," you managed to moan when he gave you a short break. "Drown me in your cum, p-please."

At first Patrick just laughed, enjoying the sight of your dumb little face. "Shit, you're so pathetic." With that he gave your moist cunt a few light slaps, making you squirm on the couch as if you were lying on the burning coals. "So, you like to play dangerous, huh? Maybe next time I should fuck you with the handle of my favorite knife?"

As soon as you were about to refuse such an offer, he pushed himself back into your mouth, pinning you down with one hand at the nape of your neck and using the other to finger fuck you rather roughly as he twisted and curled his expert fingers to stimulate that exact spot in your womb that was making you convulse uncontrollably. The heat your bodies were radiating was about to melt the walls of the living room, not to mention the lewd sounds you were both making as you desperately crested your high. It didn't take long for you to fall apart first from the way his thin fingers worshiped your throbbing slit, Bateman joining you almost a few seconds later, feeling your inner soft walls clench around his digits making him cum even more vividly than usual.

"You're mine," Patrick groaned through his gritted teeth as he watched his sticky cum dripping down your chin. "You better fucking remember that whore. Remember...uh...who you belong to."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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