#if this is similar to something i've already written you in the past then no it isn't

[backwaterheroics]

"Wanna make out?" — Kunsel, deadpan.

bro, you do not have nearly enough FP ☆ @vctlan & @sentmail

He has these dreams. And not always when he's asleep--so from one waking moment to the next, he is someone else - the scenery has shifted, and he is no longer in control. Do you remember the picture that we took? He is absent from himself and his limbs are numb, fingers tingling, vision blurred around the edges and tinged a ghostly blue, a sickly green. Static clings in his ears, a never-ending crescendo buzzing and buzzing and buzzing.

Sometimes he sees himself as he was, a little gangling spitfire or a half-built ghost, a puppet. Sometimes he knows it's all fabrication. It's been getting easier to tell the difference, between one cracked and precious memory and the little tabloid fragments of what the little toy soldier in his past used to paint a picture of their life. Sometimes it's something else, a monster under the bed in the dead of night. Bones in a closet, rattling and moaning and crying. How can there be any meaning in the memory of such a being?

This one is in the middle. It's a magazine cutout and an encyclopedia entry. It's having his hair ruffled and an arm slung around his neck to bring him and a real SOLDIER closer together. It's C'mon, guys! Kiss and make up! I am not having my two best friends fight all day. In this house, we love and respect each other, alright? He would do anything for that arm around him again, anything for that voice to be real.

Caraças, that's so corny, why'd you have to say it like that? but he agrees. It's Zack, it's always Zack.

And he's small and weak and neither of them should even be giving him the time of day, but he's not a coward.

His lips taste like cocoa and ash.

Cloud wonders if he remembers that. Cloud can't even say any of it is even real. So much of before is lost to him, he relies on other people and their accounts to make sense of his own. So the stolen moments, the private ones.. they've all been washed away in the tides.

Things that aren't his get shoved in boxes, tucked away and meant to be forgotten. He has no right, especially if they're real. He'll never know if they are. Parts of him now never see the light of day, and he is too scared to expose any of it to someone else. In case it is real. Because then—-Then.... Not even given a number.

Sometimes it's the feel of a sword twice his weight and heavy in his hand, but light in the air and power rushing through his veins. Other times it's a weightless drift of motion for moments known only by sense memory. In waking moments, he knows he's never been there. He's never seen this or that, never done such and such thing.

Well—-he hasn't, right?

He wasn't a SOLDIER. So how could he know the exact layout of the SOLDIER floors in the Midgar ShinRa tower? Why can he remember an alcove in between the junction of some junk offices and meeting halls, where he pressed a body high and hard against a glass window? Muscled thighs tight against his waist, muddy boots hitting his back. Rough, cocoa lips and the light waft of blood because missions were never perfect. A frantic rush of relief leading to hearts finally finding a steady rhythm, equilibrium in the push and pull of there and back.

Coming down from that manic high, the relief. Leaning against each other, happy in that momentary safety. Kunsel's forehead pressed to his collarbones, arms hanging low and draped about his hips, his helmet clanking against his ankle.

Then the flashes fade and Cloud can't shove this one in a box right away. He's still feeling even though he shouldn't, like he's not supposed to. You have no right—! The pressure of Kunsel all around him. The feeling of security.

He wishes, maybe. He wants that too, those feelings. All of a sudden, he can't remember the last time he felt like that, like he was being sheltered, safeguarded. But that's just his problem, isn't it? Remembering.

He forgets. He forgets a lot. He tries to remember. Leaves himself notes. Keeps dutiful logs and excuses it all away by saying he just likes to be organized. It's nice to run a self-composed delivery company. No one can tell him what to do or how to do it, and he never really needs to make excuses for writing so many things down.

But here they are, circled back to a similar orbit and this time there's no one there to knock their heads together and force them to get along. What kind of question--?! Kunsel is going way off script, off road and not even on any kind of designated trail. Or, maybe he's just messing with him — but they don't operate like that with each other either. At least, Cloud didn't think they did. None of his notes have ever said they did.

And, well — Cloud doesn't mind kissing his friends. A bit of affection here and there never hurt anybody, but he and Kunsel are not friends. He's not even sure if they've even approached that sort of territory. Completely off grid!

"Y'ain't my type," he mutters. But he knows exactly how their lips would slot together, how his hands would feel about his face or on his shoulders, through his hair. He has to clear his throat before he can talk again, not quite able to look Kunsel in the eye anymore, arms crossed over his chest. The bar fan overhead creaks in its lazy rotations. "Didn't think I was yours, neither."

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[another-random-paradise]

Can I rq for hc about twst.. Where the fem!reader(gn!reader if like) has an abusive father and caused her a truma? And the boys ( the first years + lilia & leona & azul & trein) are shocked when they find out?

Something about angst/comfort with some fluff .... I hope you're comfortable writing that.

A new start

thank you for the request. I'll be honest, i was debating wether to write this or not, as abuse is a complex subject, and i was worried about misunderstanding or accidentally offending those who have gone/are going through this. But remembered that, I too, turned to fanfics for comfort during some of my worst days, and if i can be, or at least create, that comfort for someone else, then I'm satisfied with what I've achieved in live. But I do have a 4 character limit that i have to enforce for the sake of my own mental health, so i didn't do the first years, I'm very sorry.

---------------------------------------------------------

Reader opens up to them about their abusive father

Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul, Proffessor Trein

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Talk of past abuse

written platonically, but Leona and Azul can be read romatically

!Please note that this is not meant to glorify or romanticize abuse, but meant as a form of comfort for those that need it!

Lillia

-Lillia has always been one to sneak up on and scare people, he just found their reactions so funny!

-But he can easily tell that you react a lot more intensely than others. He eventually stops sneaking up on you, because your reactions aren't fun, they just seem.. sad to him.

-Instead of surprise, you feel fear, and he doesn't like it. He can tell, just from that, that something is wrong, and while he wants to know what, he won't pressure you. As a father, he learned quickly that, that only leads to dishonesty

-As the two of you become closer, you start to be more comfortable and open with him

-And during a particularly calm conversation, a rather rare thing with someone like Lillia, you finally open up to him

-You two are sitting on a bench near his dorm, with no one around, when your conversation suddenly shifts to the past.

-As you tell him what your father did, Lillia feels anger, no, rage.

-But not at you, never at you. No, he is enraged that your father could treat his own child like that. He raised his enemy's son, after a war that lastet years, the child of the same man that killed the woman he loved, and still managed to be the best father he could be. And that trash bag of a person- if you could even call him that - couldn't even take care of his own?! 

-When you see the look in his eyes, you almost get scared, but something just tells you, that anger isn't directed at you. And before you can question him, he pulls you into a hug. You would dare to call it the most gentle hug you have ever experienced.

-"You are safe now. You always will be for as long as I'll live."  His words are as genuine as can be, as his grip tightens ever so slightly. But it doesn't feel like a cage, more like a weighted blanket engulfing your body, the weight slowly lulling you to sleep.

-If you weren't crying before, chances are you are now. And he lets you, comfortingly rubbing your back your back as you sob into his shoulder, finally letting it all out.

-The days after that, you notice that Lillias attitude towards you has changed over so slightly, he is acting a lot more caringly, he is acting.. almost fatherly. And you don't even realize that, that is his goal.

-He makes sure you always eat enough, and will cook your lunch and dinner himself if he has to, and that alone is motivation enough to eat properly, checks up on you, helps you with homework and similar, and always lends you a shoulder to cry on.

-Lillia has already made up his mind. He raised a human and a fae prince, what harm could taking in one more human do?

-You may have not have had a proper father up until now, but rather late than never, no?

Leona

-He noticed how skittish you seemed to be when you first met. The fear in your eyes obvious, no matter whether you try to hide it or not, as he snapped at you for stepping on his tail. It was the main reason he let you of so easily.

-He saw it again during his overblot, right before he transformed, as well as shortly after his recovery, when he approached you to sort things out. He expected fear, an overblot is nothing short of scary after all, but something about your fear just seemed different to him, but he decided not to bother you about it.

-Eventually you two get closer, he considers you one of his closest friends ...which isn't that great of an achievement since he doesn't have that many- but at least actually becoming one of his friends at all can be counted as one!

-One day, while simply hanging out, he decides to bring it up. He says it casually enough that you know you don't have to answer, without him having to outright say it. 

-You decide you trust him enough and tell him about your father and what he did

-He's shocked. He doesn't know what exactly he expected, but it, for some reason, it wasn't this. He thought maybe bully's, a bad ex, or something like that... but your own father? He didn't know he could hate someone so much without ever meeting them

-He's now wide awake, but stays quiet. He has never been good with words, let alone comforting someone, so he just lends you an open ear. 

-The quietness might put you off at first, but his tail subconsciously wraps around your arm, as he processes it, I'm afraid this is as much proper comfort you'll get, but if you decide to hug or cuddle him, he'll let you

-While he may not be the best with words, he does know how to take action while still being lazy.

-He practically has his own fan club at his beck and call, also known as the savanaclaw dorm, and he puts them to use.

-He tells them to make sure no one gives you trouble, and that you remain harm free, or else they'll have trouble with him. And it works! Suddenly all your bullies leave you alone!.. you don't even realize the amount of savanaclaw members staring the bully down.

-It's Leona's way of comforting and taking care of you, because if your father won't, then he damn sure will.

Azul

-Azul can be very observant when he wants to be, so it wasn't hard to tell, that the fear you felt when the twins got violent in front of you.. your fear was different, than that of the usual person

-He has to be honest, when he first saw it, he thought maybe he could utilize it to make you sign a contract.. but after his overblot his entire perspective seemed to change, you just seemed to understand his childhood trauma a little to well, how the constant abuse could hurt and even change oneself

-He'd be lying if he said that, that wasn't part of the reason you two got as close as you did, you two just seemed to understand to understand each other on a deeper level

-One day, while simply sitting in the VIP lounge while he worked, you two once again ended up talking about the past, and this time, you decided to be the one to open up to him about your childhood

-Azul stops in his tracks as you do, horrified at the thought of that happening  happening to you. He was just quiet for a moment, and unlike usual, this wasn't a comfortable silence

-"Well.. you're here now, he won't reach you here. I'll make sure of this, I'll make a contract to prove it." His voice was quiet, as he was debating what to do, he wanted to properly comfort you, but he didn't know how. He was still very young when his mom got divorced and, well, the twins never exactly needed comforting. So instead, he does what he does best, write a contract.

-For once, it's a contract that benefits you more that him. It mentions that you'll get protection from bully's and your father, should he somehow end up in twisted wonderland, and that Mostro lounge can be like a save haven that you can go to even after it's closing times. In return, he asks that you come to him should anything happen to you, from your father actually finding you, to simply getting triggert by something that reminds you of the past, whatever that may be.

-He just hopes that, even though he isn't the best when it comes to comfort, he can be the save haven for you that your dad failed to be.

Professor Trein

-Trein likes you for the simple reason that you're one of the very rare students that doesn't either cause trouble or fall asleep in his class

-During the topic of ancestry and how it affected history, ever so often the topic would change to the students family's, some students interested in yours, since your from another world. He couldn't help but notice how you never brought up your father.

-Eventually Trein became your favourite teacher! Sure, his lectures can be boring, but history is one of the few subjects you can participate in, and as long as you behave, he's actually pretty nice!

-Trein, already a father of multiple daughters, couldn't help but feel fatherly towards you, he made sure you knew you could confide in him

-One day, the lesson is about the past of some important historical figure, as things happened to be, this historical figure was abused too. Trein almost immediately noticed how quiet you got, and how hesitant you were to do the assignments. So, Trein asked you to stay after class

-He told you he noticed the change, and you decide to entrust him your story

-Trein, as a father himself, is horrified. How could anyone do that to their own flesh and blood? He lets you speak, nodding occasionally to let you know he's listening.

-"I am so sorry that happened to you. you deserve better". If you need or want it, he'll hug you and let you sob into his shoulder

-Trein, similarly to Lillia, will start to act more fatherly after that. He won't be less strict with you exam wise, but if he feels a subject could be triggering to you, he'll let you know before class, so that you can mentally prepare yourself, or miss class with his permission if needed.

-Since you aren't from twisted wonderland, you don't have a legal guardian here, do you? How do you feel about adoption? He's already raised multiple daughters, he's sure he can do it again. That way you also have somewhere to go during holidays! 

-He can't change what has already happened, but he'll make sure your last few teenage years are spent happily in a proper home

Abuse is a sensitive subject, and while i tried my best to be as respectful as possible, I know it is very possible for me to have done something wrong. So, if anything here is disrespectful, triggering, or just generally insensitive, I beg you to tell me, so that i can fix it as fast as possible.

I admit to not being the most educated on this subject, but if you are still in this situation or believe someone else is, I believe there are different hot lines for different country's that can tell you what you can do to get help. If you can, find a public computer or use a friends phone to find and call said hotline.

I truly hope that your okay anon and anyone else that is reading this, and that this fic could bring you some comfort.

[luxtrys]

ani just screams corruption kink i feel so dizzy

AHH U FUCKING GOT ME WITH THIS (added a bit of innocence kink because i can't handle myself) also got carried away like i always do, sue me.

also didn't want to write any p in v because i've already written a first time with anakin fic that knowing me would probably turn out super duper similar to this. it's right here if you're interested!! ♡

pretty baby, best friend!anakin skywalker x reader (18+, smut)

you were panicking. you tried to keep your short uncontrolled breaths at bay as you made your way down the halls of the jedi temple. you nearly tripped over your own feet multiple times, your body carrying you straight to anakin's quarters like you were on autopilot.

you had known anakin since he arrived at your home planet of coruscant when he was nine years old. you were only a year younger than him, but you were always a bit naive and innocent, floaty as anakin would call it, so you always felt like he knew best. like he was in charge and in control.

naturally, you felt like anakin knew your body and your feelings even better than you did. so when you felt odd tingles rise in your downstairs area, you didn't know what was going on in your own body. but you knew only one person you could go to, because after all anakin was your best friend.

you tried to ground yourself as you rested your hand on the door handle to anakin's private chambers, closing your eyes for a moment and breathing in and out in a sequence. you slowly opened his door, peeking in to see ani's shirtless figure on his bed, his eyes glued to the book in front of him.

as you stepped in, his head turned in your direction, a handsome smile gracing his face as he quickly bookmarked his page and made his way over to you. "hi angel, how was your day?" he asked, his heavy aura engulfing you when his arms wrapped fully around your body and he bent down to rest his head on your shoulder.

he quickly rose back up when he didn't feel you hug back, you were always hugging anakin, so something was definitely wrong. guilt washed over his face for not noticing your quivering lip and watery eyes.

"baby, what happened?" he asked, rubbing his thumb on the side of your face to try to offer you any bit of comfort he could give. "hurts ani" you whined, taking your palms and placing them on his chest, trying to push his body away from yours as the contact made your brain even more fuzzy than it already was.

"what hurts? did you trip? did someone do something to you?" he glanced over your whole body for any bruises or visible marks, even going so far as to kneel down slightly to gaze over your thighs because you were almost always falling over. your statement nearly gave him the shivers, the mere thought of something happening to you made anakin go crazy, and you knew that.

"no-no didn't fall." you shook your head, still pushed up softly against the wall in, what to him, looked like clear agony. "angel, you gotta tell me what's going on so i can help you, yeah? can't fix a problem if i don't know what it is"

you were embarrassed, because as innocent as you were, you knew that private parts were private, and you didn't know how he was going to react to sharing information about the feelings in your panties. but as conflicted as you were you needed these tingles to stop.

so you took his wrist, guiding his hand up your thigh and past your skirt, resting it to cup your heat through your panties. he looked up at you in realisation, biting his full bottom lip softly as his eyes narrowed in on you like a predator looking at his prey.

"it-it started yesterday when you came back from training and we were cuddling. i don't know what's happening ani, is there something wrong with me?" he let out a small 'fuck' at your statement, cursing himself for not noticing your state sooner, like the way your thighs were clenched and how you clung to him. even though he had known you for more than half of his life, he had no idea that you didn't know anything about the feelings you were having.

"no baby, there's nothing wrong with you. but you need to trust me if you want me to help you, ok?" he tried to be as soft as he could because he knew if he was too quick or aggressive in any way, you would turn into a pile of tears and embarrassment. you nodded with teary eyes, melting back into his touch and wrapping your hands around his neck.

he took this as the chance to slid his hands on the back of your upper thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as your legs wrapped around his waist. he swiped his thumb across your cheeks, softly wiping the tears that were running down your face, cooing to you to stop crying, and that it was all okay.

anakin placed you softly down on his bed, resting your head on your favourite pillow and kissing your bare midriff as he positioned himself above you. goosebumps trailed your skin as he slowly unzipped your skirt, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. you couldn't even describe the feelings you were experiencing as you ended up only in panties, socks and anakin's shirt on his bed. in all fairness, you slept like this with him all the time, but with his hands toying with the waistband of your pink underwear, this felt a whole lot different.

"i'm gonna touch you right here princess, is that ok?" he said as he placed his finger right to your heat through the thin cotton on your underwear. it wasn't as though anakin was an unserious person, at all, but right now, you had never seen anakin look so stern in your life. you nodded quickly, ready for him to cure this unsettling feeling in your core. "words baby." he replied to your nodding.

"yes anakin, its ok." you giggled, using his full name to annoy him. it worked. you watched as he pulled your panties off, the cold air making you shiver. after pulling them all the way off your body, he threw your underwear somewhere in the room, too focused on the site in front of him to care.

"can't believe you're letting me do this baby, been dreaming about this pussy for years" he wasn't lying, he had been thinking about what you would taste like, feel like, moan like for years. he always knew you were innocent, and he did a lot to keep it that way, but the way you came to his room, thighs clenched and clueless at these new feelings made his dick strain in his pants.

but he knew you weren't ready for all of him just yet, because not to be obnoxious, but there was no way even a quarter of his cock would fit inside of you without making you scream in pain.

he leaned forward so his head was now between your legs, licking a thick stripe up your folds as you threw your head back in pleasure. he nearly let out a groan at the taste of you, dipping back down into your heat and moving his tongue all around your pussy.

"oh my- ani!" you had never felt a feeling like this ever before, like you were on a constant wave of euphoria that you were never going to come off of. he flicked his tongue on your clit multiple times, watching attentively as he made you putty in his hands.

he continued eating you out for what felt like hours until you were practically sobbing with pleasure. "stop fucking squirming" he spat, placing an iron grip on your waist as you moved below him, seething like you were holding the most desirable thing in the world away from him.

he took the time while he threw your legs over his shoulders to smile at you, his chin and lips practically glistening from your juices, making you whine. "makers, you taste fucking heavenly baby, can't believe you were keeping this from me" he groaned, his tongue now reaching unimaginable places inside of you as you felt even less grounded with your legs stretched over his shoulders.

"ani s-stop! feel like i'm gonna pee" you whined, desperately trying to push his head away from your core as you squirmed in embarrassment. "you're not gonna pee baby, you're gonna cum. that's a good thing yeah? just let go for me." you nodded unsurely, biting your lip as you let go.

you tried to muffle your moans as you felt the most immense feeling of pleasure you have ever experienced, scared you were going to wake the whole jedi temple. anakin flicked his tongue up and down your folds, exploring every inch of your heat as he worked you through your orgasm, wishing he had his camera to capture the look on your face.

"god baby, you're so pretty like this" he sighed, pushing himself up as he hovered above you. he passionately kissed you, letting you taste yourself as you whined. you let your head lull to the side of your pillow, momentarily shutting your eyes and only opening them as you felt anakin wipe a damp towel down your folds. he was smirking at you as you finally looked at him dazed, running his tongue across his bottom lip teasingly.

"can't believe i finally corrupted you pretty baby."

[yzashaven]

okay but needy mean dom! xiao 🫣

꒰ —♡ fem!reader︰not too mean xiao </3 ✰ implied overstimulation ✰ degradation ✰ slight dacryphilia if you squint ✰ creampie!! ✰ biting ✰ mentions of marking ✰ tiny bit of manhandling (holding you down is all) ✰ not proofread ꒱

i actually wrote this after listening to this

୨୧. hi there ! i've written something similar to your request already but here's some more just for you xiao cock suckers <3 [other fic] + i'm sorry if this one's a bit bad :(( i just got home from practice a while ago and wanted to write something :3

꒰ general﹒taglist ꒱ @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kana-de @ciarchivez + special tag for @peakalatus

"x-xiao!! i can't take it anymore—"

"shut up. you can and you will." the rough snapping of his hips against yours continued, despite your pleas which were accompanied by tears falling due to the overwhelming pleasure. "see how easy it is to simply succumb to the pleasure? just shut your mouth and take my cock." hearing his words made you bury your face into the pillow in front of you, hugging it tightly and muffling your moans through its softness as your tears dampen the silk sheets of it.

if it weren't for his hands gripping onto your hips, you'd definitely be laying flat on the bed right now. "my little slut, you feel so good~" xiao groans out, "such a whore. all for me?" his palm sharply makes contact with your bare ass, eliciting a lewd cry from your drooling lips. "answer." you nod swiftly, "y-yes! mmphf~ all for you!!" after hearing that, it didn't take long before he began to hold you down by the back of your neck as he began fucking you at an intense pace.

soon enough, his pace slows down but the sharpness of his thrusts never left as he began slamming into you. hard. "fuck!! i'm gonna cum—take it all." he leans down to bite on your shoulder in an attempt to silence out the whimpers slipping past his lips as he lets the feeling of ecstasy take full control of his body, desperately thrusting into you. louder moans rip through your throat as the feeling of him filling you up for the umpteenth time get mixed with the pain being given from his teeth digging into the flesh of your shoulder.

he gently lets go of you, catching his breath for a few moments before his fingers find themselves digging into your hips as he slowly starts up a new pace. "hah~ i'm gonna fuck you until i'm satisfied, and you'll be taking it with no complaints like a good girl, mmh?" he whispers huskily directly into your ear, tightening his grip even more, being sure that it'll leave bruises and obvious marks on your skin.

this is gonna be a long night...

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can you do a tengen uzui x jealous reader like she tells as if he’s been ignoring her and distant but at the end it’s all good

Hehe I love that request as I already wrote something pretty similar a loooong time ago and this is the perfect excuse to publish it. Hope you like it even though it's a little more than what you've requested <3

(y/n) finding out her boyfriend Uzui Tengen cheated on her he did not

Pairing: Tengen x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,7k

Synopsis: Catching your boyfriend Uzui Tengen with another woman mid-action shattered your heart into pieces and made you leave him without hesitation. But is what you've seen the whole true?

Warnings: mentions of cheating, language, this is one of the first fics I've ever written in english (worked on it last in june lol) so please let me know what you think, a loooot of angst, comfort in the end

The way his fingers linger through her hair makes your stomach turn. Tengen’s touch traces down her neck, to her shoulders, before grabbing her hips passionately. You know the look in his eyes all too well, the fire inside them. It is foreseeable what will happen next.

Of course you know, given the fact that you are his girlfriend, his fiancé to be precise. Only you should know these intimate truths about his behavior, that his fingers will trace around her bellybutton next before gently pressing against her lower back. But you’re standing in the ice cold rain at night while she sits on his lap and enjoys his caresses.

You’re heart goes numb, the only thing you are able to register is your own blood rushing through your ears and the heavy rain running down your spine. You never expected that he would cheat on you. He is an attractive and strong man that is well liked by the ladies, but you are a striking and powerful woman yourself. A hashira, a former kunoichi. You thought that was adequate for him, that you were enough for him. Well, obviously that was not the truth.

Actually, you shouldn’t have been here at all. He left for an important mission this evening, stating he’ll be back in the morning. He gave you his usual breathtaking smile, devoured you in his strong arms. He said he loved you. But how can he love you when he touches another woman like he touched you a few hours ago?  So the weird feeling that brought you here was right.

Thick anger begins to radiate through your whole body, making your hands shake uncontrollably. You can’t let him get away with this. You are far too valuable to put up with his behavior. He needs to know that you caught him, that you are well aware of his affair. And this bitch should know who she messed with. After all, his engagement ring is still sitting unmistakably on his finger. 

Without thinking twice, you toss your throwing knives into her direction with usual precision. You never miss your aim, not even when you whole body shakes in rage. She cries out cowardice, the sleeves of her kimono caught under your blades before she is able to touch his stupid perfect face.

Fuck. His heart begins to race in panic. Tengen doesn’t have to look up to know it’s you with your signature rushing past his ears. Why the hell are you here? He told you he’ll be back in the morning. Your enraged face makes him swallow noisily, the way your dark hair sticks to your face, your uniform soaking wet from the durable rainfalls of the night. You look like a kunoichi ready to kill.

“How could you?”, you breathe out, locking your eyes dreadfully with his.

It hurts him to see you like this. He swore to never hurt you, always keen to never break this promise. But now you’re standing in front of him, your face twisted in anger and pain, the veins on your forehead pulsate hazardously.

“(y/n), what are you doing here? Let’s talk about it at home.”

Another throwing knife crashes just millimeters from his ear into the wall behind him. Fuck, you’re absolutely furious. To be honest, he would be too if he were in your place. Damn, why are you here?

“Arrogant boy, this is the end. I will never speak a word to you again. We are strangers.”

He frowns. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This shouldn’t happen, you shouldn’t be here, you-

You are gone.

Frantically he jumps up from the futon, not the least bit interested in the cries of the woman behind him. Tengen’s mind races, his hands begin to tremble in pain. He knows you well enough to realize that you’ll make your words come true.

-(y/n)’s POV-

You run. Through the dusky forest, away from him and this sight. Your heart scorches with pain in your chest. How could he do that to you? If he at least told you the truth beforehand, if he had stated you that there was another woman for him…You would never had thought that Tengen Uzui is a cheater. He treated you so well, the loving gleam in his eyes seemed so convincing to you this morning.

Now it’s all a pile of shards. Your past, your future - all gone. Bitter tears of disappointment burn your eyes and mix with the pelting rain. You really thought you knew him, that you knew his heart better than anyone else. Oh, you were so wrong.

Your unfocused feet stumble under a root, making you fall to the ground before you are able to react. Your hands clench in the sodden forest floor while your face contorts in pain. No, it’s no longer possible. You can’t hold it back any longer. A pained, bloodcurdling scream echoes through the lonely woods. Tears now take your sight completely, desperately trying to forget what you just saw. You were always so strong, so confident, but now you feel like your emotions are ripping you apart from the inside. He tore your heart into a thousand pieces, you wish it would stop beating within your longing chest. Why? Why does he just throw your life away like that? You thought you gave him everything he needs. Was it not enough for him? Did you do something wrong?

Your gaze wanders up into the starry sky. No. You gave him everything you have. It’s not your fault that this coward can’t see what you’ve had in each other and decided to betray you. Stand up, pick yourself up from the dirt and keep your head held high for at least a moment. You stand up gradually and look ahead.

“Mayumi.”

Your crow immediately sits on your shoulder at the sound of its name, briefly rubbing its head against yours. Normally you’re both not good at expressing your feelings to each other, but today she seems to understand you without further words.

“Lead me the way to the butterfly estate, please.”

“Of course, (y/n)-san”, she squeaks immediately in response and flies in front of you a few meters ahead.

As always, you move quickly and gracefully through the opaque forest around you, so you soon arrive at the butterfly mansion. This is the only place you want to be right know. Shinobu is a good friend of yours, never pushy or too curious. She always seems to truly care about you and your wellbeing, even though you seem a bit cold to some people. She understands you – hopefully also this late at night.

You knock on the door stridently. There’s no way you’ll be going home tonight, not if he could be there. But what if she doesn’t open the door? Where should you go then? Maybe Rengoku, but you couldn’t stand his optimism, Mitsuri surely burst into tears, Sanemi-

“(y/n)-san, we didn’t expect to be honored by your presence tonight!”

The little girl in front of you, Sumi you assume, breaks out in a sweat.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t announce myself beforehand. Is there any way to talk to Shinobu-san and stay here for the night? Of course I don’t want to impose my-“

“That is absolutely no problem, we are honored to invite you for the night, (y/n)-san! Please let me show you your room and call Shinobu-san!”

“That would be perfect, thank you so much”, you even manage to gift her with a small and rare smile.

The little girl leads you to a small but well decorated room with a freshly made futon in the middle. This room would be anything but flamboyant enough for him…You shake your head rigorous. No, you need to stop thinking about him. He isn’t worth you thoughts, your tears, your time. What he did was unforgivable.

“I didn’t expect to welcome you at my estate this late my dear. Oh, you are soaking wet! Sumi, please bring our guest a fresh yukata!”, Shinobu’s kind voice echoes through the room.

“I’m truly sorry for interrupting your peace this late at night, I just couldn’t go home”, you reply bitterly while staring into the distance.

As much as you want to forget him, he always catches up with you. Damn, why is this so hard? Isn’t his betrayal enough to keep your strength and self-respect?

“You know that I would never impose myself, but you are always welcome here and if you need a talk, just call for me.”

“He betrayed me, Shinobu. I saw him with another woman tonight”, you breathe out.

Her eyes widen in horror. Now she understands why you visit her in such a state. Without hesitation, she crosses the room and sits next to you on the futon.

“I shouldn’t feel sad, ashamed or guilty. What have I done? Why did he feel the need to run into another woman’s arms? I know my worth, Shinobu, but it truly haunts me. I really thought he loved me, I thought we had a future. It just…hurts.”

The cracking of your unusual composed voice causes Shinobu’s heart to drown in compassion. Oh, you didn’t deserve this at all. Even though you seemed a little cold from time to time, she knew too well that you have a heart of gold. You could always be counted on – both in combat and in private. As a former kunoichi it wasn’t easy for you to break with your old habits from time to time. Nevertheless, all other Hashira knew how dearly you loved Tengen. You two were even engaged. How? How can he just throw all of that away?

“I thought Oyakata-sama entrusted him with a mission tonight. Oh, (y/n), please…Don’t you ever blame yourself for the things you have seen. You are a truly outstanding woman with striking beauty and a heart of gold. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side. It’s not your fault in any way that he can’t see your worth!”

Her words leave you speechless for a moment, tears swell up in your eyes once more. The emptiness he left inside you makes it hard to breathe. Now that Shinobu has said it again and you’re sitting in her mansion, it’s getting too real. You will never wake up next to him, soak in his sleep drunken smile, his arms will never wrap around your waist so tightly again. You loved him so much. His betrayal shattered your heart into a million pieces.

  “I loved him and our life together so much. We-we…we wanted to get married next year in the cherry blossom season. All the things he said to me were worthless, as well as the life we built up together. He threw it away this night. He hasn’t even tried to explain himself for me, he just said that he will talk to me at home.”

You can’t help yourself. Crying seems to be the only thing that feels right at the moment. Shinobu holds onto your shaking frame tightly, not daring to let go of you for even a second. No, you didn’t deserve this. But if this is what you need, she will gladly sit beside you and hold you in silence until your heart feels lighter. 

A ray of sunlight hits you in your face harshly. Your eyes seem to be glued together, you are only able to open them with difficulty. A gaze around makes you realize immediately that you are at the butterfly estate, with Shinobu curled up in a small ball on the futon next to you, breathing softly. The pain of this night hits you like a wall all over again when your sleep-drunken brain begins to realize why you are laying here and not in Tengen’s arms.

“Important message! Important message! Oyakata-sama desires to see all the Hashira for an important meeting at his estate! Please hurry!”

The sound of Shinobu’s crow wakes her up from her sleep immediately.

“Oh, I must have fallen asleep here. I hope you didn’t feel disturbed by me, (y/n). A meeting you say? But we just met. Well, maybe something important has happened. We shouldn’t let them wait any longer!”

Your stomach twists in disgust. A meeting of all Hashira means that Tengen must come too. No, you’re not ready to see him yet, you might break down when his gaze wanders to yours. Your hands start shaking all over again.

“(y/n), listen. I understand your anxiety at the thought of this meeting, but it’s not worth making you feel this way – he is not worth making you feel this way. You are the strongest woman I know with a tough will that is unmatched. If anyone is capable of coming forward immediately after a betrayal like this, it’s you. He doesn’t deserve the pleasure of your grief. Stand up, put on your uniform and clean your face from the stain of tears. You are strong, you are brave and you are a Hashira. You are more than enough by yourself, (y/n).”

Shinobu is right. You are a warrior, your abilities outstand those of other demon slayers by far. It is not your reputation or attitude to let your grief show. Tengen should see what he has lost.

“Give me 10 minutes to get myself ready. I’ll meet you outside”, you instruct Shinobu with your usual firm voice.

You put on your uniform, wash your face and brush your hair. In the mirror you look like the woman you generally are. Only the faint hint of dark circles and your slightly red-shot eyes tell a trained gaze that you’ve had a rough night. As you position your throwing knives in your belt, you lift your head with one last look in the mirror and step out into the fresh air of the morning.

You will get through this meeting and build your own future afterwards.

-the meeting-

Tengen is uneasy and more than concerned. You didn’t come home tonight. Well, considering what you saw it would have surprised him if you had, admittedly. But where are you? Are you alright? Dark circles decorate his face. As if he could have just closed one eye not knowing where you have been. You weren’t supposed to see him like this, in the arms of another woman. He knows you well enough to be aware of the fact that he is dead for you. But he has to explain himself, you have to at least give him a chance to see you, to talk to you. Will you be present at today’s meeting? No matter how hurt you are, your sense of duty will surely not let you miss it.

“Shinobu, (y/n), it is so nice to see you again! I feared you might not come when Uzui showed up alone!”, Rengoku’s strong voice shouts out.

His eyes snap up immediately to catch a glimpse of you. Damn, you look so good. Even with the slightly blood-shot eyes that betray your flawless face, you’re appearance is still breathtaking and composed. But your eyes don’t even look for him in the crowd of Hashira. Instead, you greet Rengoku with a small smile.

“Well, the last time wasn’t too long ago. I wonder why we meet again so soon. Something important must have happened”, you reply calmly.

You can sense him immediately, the way his eyes dart all over your body the second Rengoku announces your entrance. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, your knees go soft as butter. A new wave of aching and wrath washes over you and leaves you dizzy. No, you must stay focused. Don’t let him throw you off course.

“Welcome, my children. Please join me inside, the clouds in the sky look like rain”, Oyakata-sama announces calmly.

Out of instinct, you bow down in front of him immediately. You didn’t even see or hear him coming. Focus on the meeting, don’t look at him. You will get through this.

Shinobu gently grabs your arm and pulls you back up to follow the rest of the Hashira inside.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you”, she gently murmurs into your ear.

You can’t help but gift her with a smile and squeeze her arm softly. You can’t thank her enough for being such a great support to you during this difficult time. Will you ever be able to reciprocate with her?

“Thank you for blessing me with your presence, even though we just met a few weeks ago. I’ve tasked Tengen with a special mission that will bring us closer to our goal of finding and slaying Muzan Kibutsuji alongside his Upper and Lower Moons. Tengen, would you mind explaining to all of us what you have accomplished?”

Out of instinct, you glare at Tengen’s back in front of you while your mind is battling uncontrollably. A special mission? Closer to our goal of finding and slaying Muzan Kibutsuji? Why didn’t you know about all this? What mission does Oyakata-sama mean?

“I have been observing and investigating the area around the entertainment district for some time. Unexplained deaths, countless attacks in the nights, women that leave without explaining. A place that only comes alive in the darkness seemed like the perfect place for a demon, maybe even an upper ranked one. And given the fact that I am the flashiest men within the pillars, I decided to examine further. I talked to the women there and let my flamboyant charm play so that they dared to tell me something. Tonight I was able to find out that one of the oiran seems to be particularly cruel and females who got in her way always mysteriously disappeared or were found dead. Unfortunately, I could not find out the name of said woman, but I am almost certain that she is a part of the Upper Moons.”

You threaten to spill the contents of your stomach down Giyu’s neck in front of you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is that why he met this woman? Is that why he put up with her caresses, to get information? Your ears are ringing deafeningly loud while you can’t help but stare at Tengen in disbelief. All of this pain, his betrayal, your tears, all of this was a lie?

“Oh my…”, Shinobu breathes out next to you, covering her mouth with her hand.

Is that really true? Was all of this for nothing? Now what are you supposed to do with this information? Your head begins to spin in confusion.

You need to get out. Now.

“Sorry, I need a moment”, you mumble under your breath, stumbling awkwardly into the direction of the door.

“(y/n), wait!”, his strong voice shouts behind you.

The last thing you want to do right now is talk. You are absolutely confused and furious. If it was all about a damn mission, why didn’t he tell you before he flirted with that woman? He hasn’t told you a word about his investigations. Not.a.single.word. You thought you were partners, you trust him with your life. Why did it have to come to this?

“(y/n)…”

You see nothing but red. With a swift motion, your small frame lunges over and pins him to the text wall, your throwing knife pressed against his neck.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

For the first time since last night, your eyes lock with his. Oh, he looks absolutely gorgeous with his hair a little messy and his sorrow-filled gaze. But no, you can’t break your façade now. He trampled on your trust, your feelings, your relationship.

“I’m sorry I had nothing to say that night, but it was-“

“That night? You lied to me the whole time! You infiltrated the entertainment district every day for weeks without telling me! How can I trust you? How do I know that what I saw last night was just an act?”, your toe-curling yelling echoes through the estate of Oyakata-sama.

Fuck, you couldn’t care less about the fact that everyone just heard you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, desperate for air. Suddenly he grabs your arm smoothly with one hand, turns you around and now pushes your frame against the wall he used to lean on a moment ago. Your throwing knife falls to the ground rustling.

“I did this to protect you!”, he taunts tormented, his face now only inches away from yours.

“You don’t need to protect me, I’m a pillar-“

“This ain’t no walkin’, (y/n). It’s one of the upper moons, the strongest demons to ever exist. Exposing you to this danger, allowing you to interfere…I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror anymore if I’d allowed that”, he interrupts you with unusual low voice.

“I thought you were cheating on me, that everything we built was a lie. When I saw you in her arms…”

You have to stop mid-sentence with hot tears swelling up your eyes once more. This night was the ultimate hell for you. If felt like you’re dying from within every time your thoughts wandered to him of their own accord. You tried to be strong and independent, told yourself over and over again that you don’t need him when in reality, all you hoped for was for this to be a misunderstanding.

“I would never cheat on a woman as flamboyant as you. (y/n), I hope you understand that I had no other choice. Both you and me know all too well that you couldn’t have held back, risking the mission’s success along with your life. Let me handle that, trust your flashy fiancé and his skills”, he whispers, gently caressing your cheek.

God, his touch burns like a thousand fires on your skin. All this time you thought you’d never get that pleasure again. You can’t help but snuggle your face in his hand, eyes closed to allow yourself this intimate moment. While you won’t easily forgive him for keeping you in the dark, you’re just glad that your dark fears of tonight are not reality.

“Just be glad I missed on purpose”, you mutter into his hand.

[the-nameless-poet]

Written Mine On My Upper Thigh

Draco Malfoy X fem!reader

Summery : Your Boyfriend Draco wants to get a tattoo and you want one too.

Draco enters the living room where his girlfriend is lounging on the couch with a book in her hands and some snacks. He gently sits down on the floor beside your leg and puts it on his shoulders and gives your thigh a sweet kiss.

"Hey darling." He speaks gently while pressing another kiss on your thigh. This little game of affection is making your heart flutter with heaving desires. Desires similar to the ones described in the book that had already left your brain in a spiral of fantasies that were unspeakable.

"Hey Love." You respond by putting your book down and lightly scratching his head. The silver strands gleaming against the skin of your fingers as your boyfriend hums with delight.

"I was thinking..." He starts while leaving a trail of kisses from your calf upto your thighs and then stops to look up into your eyes, your iris meeting with his stormy blue ones with a passionate gleam.

"What were you thinking, my love?" You encourage him to complete his thoughts, your voice a bit shaky. Not noticeable. But you could feel it on your lips, the shivers that came up from your throat and made the words quiver. Even after all this time you could swear that you fell for your Draco Malfoy everyday, all over again. The tattoo on your collarbone was the permanent proof of your ever growing love for him.

"You know how you have the tattoo of Draco constellation on your collarbone..." His hesitation was clear in his voice; you gently caressed his head as to encourage him to speak further while nodding.

"I want one tattoo of the constellation of your star sign on my arm. The scars from the dark mark are still visible and I.... I-It reminds me of the past time when I look at it and I wish to replace those memories with the ones that help me through my dark times." He laid his head on your thigh, he looked like the child he once was, afraid to ask for something he didn't deserve.

"Darling? Are you sure about it? I don't mind that at all but...are you sure...?" You try your best to show your concerns in a way that doesn't sound too cruel or act like a reminiscent of the time that he went through. You remember how he was afraid of anyone even touching his arm, the one that once held the dark mark one it. You remember coaxing him into atleast letting you touch it. He was hesitant but you were also the only person he trusted at that time. So after some persuading he let you.

And the first time you touched his dark mark was with your lips, a gentle kiss, a secluded remedy, that brought him back to light. He was shocked at first to see you commit, what was a crime in his eyes, a fatal action that might lead you to your end but soon he felt the gratification it gifted. And that was the day Draco Malfoy wrote his whole existence to your name.

"Love I've wanted this for so long. I've thought about it and it doesn't scare me as much as it used to. It's a distant memory. But its still there and I want to erase it and adorn that skin with the one that I'd dream of even after I die. Also I know you'd kiss it to make it better. So not afraid of it much." He chuckled at the end and kissed your lips while sitting on his knees, right infront of your face. You hummed at the warmth of his lips on yours and pulled back with a smile.

His words left a gibberish, jumbled mind for you to deal with. Just the thought that he would dream about you even after he dies, kills you so gently that you'd welcome death with open arms. He was yours. Forever. In his dreams, in his reality, in his death and in his life; he was yours the same was you were his.

"I'll call the muggle tattoo parlor and book an appointment for two." You said and kissed him passionately.

He pulled back with a confused look.

"For two?" You nodded and smiled at his conflicted face. You caressed his eyebrows to make him lose his frown and spoke,

"I want a new one too. Actually I'm gonna need your help for it." His face quickly lit up. Which made you giggle.

You quickly made the appointment for Sunday.

-------------------------------------------------

On Sunday, both you and Draco went to the tattoo parlor and gave the tattoo artist your ideas.

But first for your tattoo you needed Draco's help.

"Draco, I need you to write 'mine' on my upper thigh." You've been wanting to do this for a long time. Ever since you found out about Draco's obsession with your thighs, you wanted to do something about it so it would remind you of his possesive nature towards your thighs. How he puts a hand on one of them underneath the table, or how he squeezes them, how he likes to leave noticable love marks on them, how he loves to kiss them and how he loves to slap them while he made love to you. All of these things made your core wither with desire and you little minx wanted a permanent reminder of your boyfriend's affections.

And he was happy to follow your orders and in his best handwriting, he wrote 'Mine' on your left upper thigh and gave a long kiss to your inner thigh that left you wanting more.

After a while you both got your tattoos. The one on his arm looked as if it shone against his skin and the one on your thigh reflected possesion and your desire towards that obsession. Truth to be told, you couldn't hide the fact that you loved your boyfriend being overly obsessed with your thighs. Afterall you're just a girl. And he was a god when it came to loving you.

And when your tattoos were finally healed, both of you left little red and purple reminiscent of your affection. Your love for eachother was etched into your skin forevermore. And the one that was etched into your soul won't ever fade, Not even after being decayed into mere atoms. The only truth that could be fathomed was that It would shine for the eternity.

[python333]

soft spot — python333

— — — —

synopsis you've been having a bad day, and ghost feels like being extra nice to you. plot twist you're an age regressor and him being so nice is NOT helping.

relationships platonic agere cg!ghost & gn little!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 6.7k.

warnings a victorious reference, age regressor reader, usage of c/n [call sign/code name], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]

note please feel free to attack me as much as you want if this is inaccurate. i don't even care if it's not constructive criticism. i am begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions on this!! this is also the longest oneshot i think i've ever written!

“Having fun there?” 

You turn in your seat and find Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one eye slightly wider than the other—an indication that his eyebrow is raised. 

“Not really,” You answer, setting down your gun. You’d been disassembling it, trying to take your mind off of the slowly growing headache that’s been building up for the past few hours. You don’t think it’s a migraine or anything, but it still bothers you greatly. 

“Yeah, no, I can tell,” Ghost chuckles, pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you. He eyes your gun for a moment, the magazine already removed as well as any live rounds left in the rifle ejected, and the bolt locked to the rear. You were only maybe a quarter of the way through your disassembly, even though you started around thirty minutes ago. 

For some reason, you woke up upset today. You were too tired, you felt awfully sluggish, and there was a throbbing pain clustered in the back of your eyebrows. So, in short—you were reasonably very upset. It showed visibly in the way your eyes twitched every so often, and in the way you felt the need to pinch the bridge of your nose to distract you from the pain that was still building up behind your brows. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning on the table. 

“I have this headache that won’t go away,” You respond, sighing as you move your gaze from your gun to Ghost. You can barely see it, but from his eyes you can tell that his face scrunches up beneath his mask. He knows a thing or two about bad headaches, being someone who frequently gets migraines himself. 

“Have you taken any meds for it?” You shake your head ‘no’. Ghost holds up a single finger in a ‘one moment’ motion and rummages through the pockets on his tactical vest for a moment, before he pulls out a small bottle of ibuprofen no bigger than his palm. He hands it to you. 

“Here.” You blink at it for a moment. 

“Thanks,” You take the bottle gingerly and Ghost nods, watching you as you struggle with the child-proof lid for a second before getting it open. You shake out a small tablet, one the size of a low-dosage aspirin, and pop it into your mouth. You don’t have much of an issue dry-swallowing it, and it only takes one attempt before you successfully swallow the tablet.

“You’ve been feeling pretty bad this whole week, haven’t you?” Ghost frowns underneath his mask. 

You think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s mostly just stress.” 

You know it’s not just stress. 

For a while now, you’ve used something called ‘age regression’ as a form of stress relief. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you do know that it was before you were recruited for the 141. And originally, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t regress while on base, and you kept that promise for maybe a month before you broke it. 

You think it was Ghost that was the trigger, actually. You can vividly remember the first time you regressed while on base; you had just finished talking to Ghost, and he called you something—you think he called you something similar to ‘kid’—that made a flip in your mind switch immediately. You can remember excusing yourself from the conversation quickly, leaving your lieutenant slightly confused but otherwise unbothered by the strange action. 

And, worst of all, you can remember being in your quarters and practically burrowing under your blankets. You were curled up into a fetal position, trying to fight the urge to suck on your thumb or at least chew on something, but ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to your urges. You spent maybe a few hours like that, wide awake when you just wanted to try and sleep it away, thinking about that interaction you had with Ghost over and over again. 

You’re not stupid. You know that Ghost has some sort of soft spot for you—albeit, you don’t know exactly how soft that soft spot is, but it’s definitely soft. Soft enough that he goes the tiniest bit easier on you compared to other recruits, soft enough that he spares you more time than he does for others, and the most obvious of all—he initiates most of your conversations. 

Contrary to popular belief, he’s not the scary super-soldier most people think of him as. Sure, maybe he is kind of scary, and maybe his mask does jumpscare you when you’re doing missions in particularly dark spaces sometimes, but other than that he’s not scary in the slightest. If anything, he’s awkward. Awkward enough that he’s almost never the first person to talk to someone—except for you, of course. You don’t know why he acts so differently around you, but you don’t complain about it. 

“That’s rough,” Ghost looks down at you with concerned, empathetic eyes, “Sorry you’re so stressed. Mind me askin’ why?” 

“I don’t, but I also don’t know why I’m so stressed,” You huff out, even though you know the answer completely. You stand up, “I think it’s just me being sleep deprived. I’ve been having the tiniest bit of trouble falling asleep lately.” 

“You should’ve told me earlier,” Ghost tuts, “I have melatonin.” 

You give him a confused look. “You do?” 

“‘Course I do.” 

You blink at him for a moment before sighing, “Could I have some then?” 

“What’s the magic word?” You give him an unimpressed look, ignoring the way the words make your stomach twist, and his eyes crinkle in a way that lets you know that he’s grinning under his mask. 

“Could I please have some melatonin?” 

“The magic word was lotion, but I’ll let it slide,” Ghost hums, “There’s some in my office. I’ll grab it for you later.” 

“M’kay,” You look over at the door, unintentionally zoning out as you do. Your vision goes unfocused as the throbbing pain behind your eyebrows grows and something else grows inside of you. 

Jesus. Why can’t you choose any other time to get the urge to slip into a younger mentality? Why does your headache have to make everything worse for you? Why does Ghost have to be so nice and helpful? 

“Hey,” Ghost frowns, tapping a finger on your shoulder to snap you out of whatever trance you’re in, “[c/n]?” 

Oh God. 

Your eyes—that you try desperately to keep neutral—meet Ghost’s, his eyes soft and his eyebrows dipped downwards in a confused manner. His eyes are searching, flitting over you, trying to find something. The way he looks at you makes you want to squirm, and you can’t help but just slightly shuffle in place. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, voice as concerned as his look. That should be the breaking point for you, but you remain as big as you can be, and nod affirmatively. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You try to assure him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “I think I’m just a little tired.” 

Ghost doesn’t look convinced. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder, the act like a hammer putting another dent in the wall you had put up. The leather of his glove is warm even through the thick material of your shirt, and it feels like hot metal against your cold skin, the clothing covering your shoulder be damned. 

“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” He tells you—what is he doing? Does he know something I don’t?—while his thumb starts rubbing circles into your shoulder, “I feel like you’re more than a little tired.” 

You stay silent for a little bit. You don’t know how to explain yourself, the words seeming to liquify and leak right out of you, making you speechless. He seems to notice this, sighing and letting his hand slip down to your hand, holding it and giving it a quick squeeze. 

“I think,” He looks around for a moment before turning back to you, “that we should head to my office so that nobody can bother us, and then you can tell me all about how you’re feeling right now. Does that sound okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to talk with how heavy your tongue feels, and you let Ghost lead you back to his office. It’s only a hallway away, but that’s still enough time to overthink everything that could possibly happen. How does he know something’s wrong? What gave it away? Did I do something bad? What did I do? Wh—

The creak of his office door opening snaps you out of your thoughts, and Ghost steps aside to let you enter his office first. Hesitantly, you take a few steps inside, and you hear the door click shut behind you as Ghost walks in. He takes your hand again, making you look at him as he guides you to a chair. 

You sit in the chair that’s in front of his desk, and he quickly drags out the chair that’s behind it so that it’s right next to yours. He sits down. 

He’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Uh.” You’re not sure what to say. He’s looking at you so reassuringly, it’s hard to keep yourself sitting upright. 

“I know something’s wrong,” Ghost says, leaning forward the tiniest bit, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” 

He’s got to have at least some idea of what you’re experiencing, You think, trying to form some sort of explanation, He’s being so… weird? 

You swear there’s some other word you could use, but your vocabulary feels so limited, and you would mentally curse if you could because you know that now your explanation is gonna sound weird. You can’t use the words you want, you’re gonna be forced to use simple words, ones that can’t convey exactly how you feel. Words that—and it physically pained you to admit this—were childish. 

You can explain your situation. Just, now it would be more… blunt. And short. And also you’d feel like killing yourself afterwards. You won’t, obviously, but you can predict that you’ll come very close to doing so.

Okay, I have to say something because Ghost is looking more and more worried the longer I stay silent. 

“I feel…” You trail off for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order for the next two seconds to actually say something that makes sense, before continuing in a far less confident tone, “… small.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Ew. Ew. Ew. What. Why? Why that word? It leaves a sour taste on your tongue and yet you can’t think of any other word that would better suit how you feel. Still. Ew. 

Your thoughts are a jumbled mess ranging from fleeting thoughts of disgust to thoughts lodged in the back of your mind begging you to go anywhere else just so that you can stop having to have this conversation. This conversation requires words bigger than you have access to, and a sort of control over yourself that you can’t grasp. You can feel your hands twitching, wanting something to hold onto, anything to keep you distracted from the overwhelming urge to just regress. 

Ghost blinks. He didn’t expect that answer. 

“Small?” He repeats in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, compared to me, I guess you’re kind of short—” 

“No, no, not like short small,” You try to clarify, feeling just slightly discouraged by Ghost’s confused words, “Like…” 

You struggle to find the words that properly describe how you feel, only finding words like small and little in your current vocabulary. Your findings are making you increasingly upset, and you can feel your face start to grow hot with frustration and embarrassment. 

Oh my God. 

“Like…?” Ghost nudges your knee with his, trying to encourage you to talk, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.” 

There’s still a level of care in his words, no matter how confused he seems, and that adds all the more struggle to your predicament. Not only do you not want to tell him, but you can’t describe how you feel in a way that’s acceptable for someone your age to describe anything. At least, not in a way that you deem acceptable for yourself to describe anything. 

You’re far too old to be describing yourself as small. 

“[c/n]?” Ghost nudges you again, and you blink at him. Your eyes are flickering all over his mask, going anywhere but his eyes, since eye contact with anyone would make everything significantly worse for you right now. 

“It’s just—” You try to take a deep breath but your breath hitches. Everything is starting to make you feel so frustrated, and you’re starting to think that you might just throw a tantrum if you can’t do at least one thing right. You try to find the words you want to use but your throat is disobediently closing on you. Your mind feels like straight mush, and the quickly softening look that Ghost is giving you isn’t helping you at all. 

To your horror, in your inexplicable inability to talk in the way you normally do, you let out a small whine. It sounds obnoxious to your ears, and worst of all, sounds like something a little kid would do. 

You put your head in your hands, the quickly reddening skin of your cheeks getting cooled by the cold of your palms as you try and hide your face from Ghost. You can picture how he looks right now—somehow more confused than earlier, possibly annoyed, weirded out—and all those mental images make you bite your tongue to prevent another noise. 

“What was that?” You don’t answer him. 

To your non-answer, Ghost sighs, and you think, This is it, this is where he kicks me out of his office, oh my God I’m gonna get dishonorably discharged and he’s gonna give me a really mean look on my way out—

“Look at me.” You shake your head negatively. 

“Why not?” He sounds so confused, it makes you want to cry. There’s still a level of worry in his voice, and it adds to the fog that builds up in your brain. 

You move your face just slightly up so that your eyes peek out from above your fingertips, your hands covering the rest of your face. Ghost reaches out both of his hands, and ever so gently removes your hands from your face, uncovering your red cheeks and your lips—the lower of which quivers, like you’re about to cry. He notices this quickly, and you can practically feel the level of his worry shoot up. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead just holding your hands in his for a moment, before he sets them down into your lap. He looks at you, concerned, and asks, “Is it hard to talk right now?” 

You nod. His gaze shifts to his computer, and then back to you. 

“I’m gonna go look a few things up really quick, okay? I’ll just be right over there,” He nods over to the space behind his computer, “and I’ll be right back here in a few seconds.” 

You reluctantly nod again, and Ghost gets up from his seat. He grabs the back of the chair and drags it back around behind his desk, sitting down in it and powering on his monitor. It turns on almost immediately, much to his relief, and he goes to his browser and searches up a few things. You can’t tell what he’s searching up, only hearing the clacking of keys and the occasional final click that indicates that he’s hit the enter button. 

He stays there for maybe a minute or two. It’s a long few minutes, and you can feel yourself slipping more and more the longer he stays at his computer. And the more you feel yourself slipping into that younger mindset, the more you start to crave Ghost’s attention. 

The way his eyes are glued to his computer starts to irritate you. You’re aware that he’s doing something important, he must be, because why would he be so intent on looking something up otherwise, but still—you manage to feel the tiniest bit jealous of the computer. You know you’re too far gone when you can’t find it within yourself to realize that you’re jealous of a computer. 

Your eyes linger on him and he must notice this because he looks up from the screen of his monitor and looks over at you. As if he can read your mind, he reassures you, “Just a few more seconds.” 

But you said you were gonna be back in a few seconds a few minutes ago. 

You don’t voice your thoughts. Instead, you nod, because God forbid you annoy Ghost with your need for attention now when he’s being so patient with you. He looks at you for another moment before going back to his computer and looking something else up, this time with a little more fervor. 

Another few seconds pass and, true to his word this time, Ghost stops and gets up from his chair. He walks over to you, and your eyes follow him intently. He kneels down in front of you.

He looks hesitant to say something to you. That’s a first. That adds to the exponentially growing blob of fear that lives inside your mind, one of the only things that’s still prominent in the fog that conquers your brain. 

“Are you…” You feel like you know what he’s gonna ask you. You’re bracing yourself for the question, and he looks like he’s bracing himself just to ask it. 

“How, uh,” He’s trying to find the right wording, and you’ve never been able to relate to him harder than you do in this moment, “How… do you feel right now? How old?” 

How old? You don’t really like that question. As much as you like that you’re now getting attention, you’re starting to remember how little you actually enjoy this type of attention. The question is pretty vague, but at the same time so specific, and you’re almost ashamed to know exactly what the answer is. Or, at least, you would feel ashamed if there was room in your mind to feel so. 

“You said you feel small, right? Not like short small, just small?” He sounds more unsure of himself now, and you don’t think you like seeing him so reluctant to say something, “I looked up what it means to feel like that. Took some time, but I got to some person’s… website, and the person who wrote it was talkin’ about feeling like that. Something about regression, feeling a little bit younger than usual?” 

He’s being so awkward about it, and while you typically find his awkwardness funny, now it’s anything but that. 

“Uhm,” Your voice comes out as a mumble and you see Ghost perk up at it. You don’t know what to say. For a moment, you’re silent again, before you get over your embarrassment for a quick two seconds and force yourself to say, “Four.” 

“Four?” Ghost asks, before quickly realizing, “Right. Four. You feel four?” 

You nod, and your hands instinctively start moving back up to cover your face. Ghost swiftly grabs them, keeping his grip gentle as he keeps them from reaching your face. 

“Hey, don’t try to hide again,” He says, tone softening as he holds your hands, “everything’s fine, okay? Do you— what, uh— do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to leave you alo—”

“No!” You quickly answer, a little surprised by your own volume, before you clear your throat and answer in a much more quiet voice, “Don’t leave me alone.” 

“Okay, okay,” Ghost’s thumbs rub across the back of your hands, a soothing gesture that makes you the tiniest bit more relaxed, “what do you need?” 

You sniffle, and you can see an immediate look of panic cross Ghost’s eyes. You don’t know how well he is with crying children, and don’t want to impose such a situation on him, but you also can’t stop the tears that begin to well up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” He borderline begs, “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? Please do not cry. Take a deep breath.” 

You try to take a deep breath, you really do, but your breath just hitches and gets caught in your throat. It only makes you more distressed, adding to the urge you have to just disappear. Ghost notices your failed deep breathing and lets go of one of your hands, before taking the other and holding it to his chest.

You can just barely feel his heartbeat, his thick tactical vest and gear in the way of it, but you can still feel it. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding it for a second or two before slowly exhaling. 

“You copy me, okay?” He tells you, his words an order but his tone suggesting otherwise. He takes another deep breath, this time hoping you’ll follow his lead, and you do. 

You try to breathe with him, your hand on his chest helping, but your breath keeps getting caught in your throat. Ghost notices this, but continues his breathing anyway, hoping you’ll catch on soon. You do, thankfully—after a few more attempted breaths, you finally manage one almost identical to Ghost’s. The next few after that go similarly, and that’s when Ghost decides you’re alright to take your hand off of his chest. 

“I need you to tell me what to do,” He says, keeping your hand in his hold, “or at least tell me how all of this works. I want to help you.”

 You really don’t want to tell him what you need right now, but you also don’t think you have a choice. 

Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat, balance just slightly off-center before you quickly get your footing right. Ghost watches you, not moving, before you tug on his hand to try and urge him to get up as well. He obliges, getting up. 

“What—” You interrupt him by taking another step forward and letting your head thump right into his chest, ignoring the itchy uncomfortable feeling of his vest against your face. You don’t bother to wrap your arms around him to at least try and form some sort of hug, preferring to just smush yourself into him and hope for the best. 

After a moment of stunned silence, he wraps his arms around you. 

“You mind if we move behind my desk so I can look up some more stuff on all of this?” He asks, voice quiet, “Unless you want to just tell me?” 

“Desk,” You simply mumble into his vest, making him nod. 

“Alright, but you’re gonna have to stop hugging me for a second,” Ghost warns you. You reluctantly step away, and Ghost smiles softly down at you, bringing his hands away from your back and instead holding one of yours. 

He leads you behind his desk, and lets go of your hand before sitting down in his chair. Pausing, he quickly realizes you have nowhere to sit, and thinks for a moment before getting back up. He drags his chair just slightly to the side and looks back at you. 

“Sit down,” He nods to the chair, “It’s only gonna be a minute or two, alright?” 

You nod, hesitantly moving to sit in the chair, not really liking how far away from Ghost it is. It's not that far, You try to rationalize, I’m gonna be fine. 

Ghost can see your hesitation and tries to work as quickly as he can, grateful that he didn’t turn his computer off earlier, typing away on his keyboard. You don’t care to see what he’s looking up, more focused on looking at the time on his monitor. 21:44. 21:45. The time ticks by and even though it’s only been a few seconds you already want Ghost’s attention again. His attention has actually turned into good attention, and that’s the type of attention you’ve been craving for the past week. 

The clock reads 21:47 once Ghost is done, and he powers his monitor off this time, the small whirring the device makes dying down to a low hum before going completely silent. He turns to you, and somehow can sense that you need more attention. 

“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” He teases you, making you conflicted on whether you should be annoyed by the teasing or happy you’re finally getting attention. As if he can read your mind, he chuckles, and kneels down to your level. 

“I’m gonna give you as much attention as you need, alright?” He promises, “I just need you to stay in this room.” 

— 

Ghost watches you nod non-verbally, and it only adds to his softening expression. 

He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He knows that you aren’t technically a kid, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still see you as one. You’re young for someone in the military, much less someone in this 141, and now that he’s found out that you’re an age regressor, that you’re a little—well, that doesn’t help how he sees you at all. 

He thinks that maybe the reason he has such a soft spot for kids is a few encounters he’s had with them in the past. He’s seen far too many in compromising positions while on missions; positions like being held hostage, being held as prisoner, or just generally being mistreated or even just living in bad conditions. 

He looks at you, and he just sees another one of those kids. 

He sees how you act around him. He’s not stupid. When he talks to you, you’re actually engaged in the conversation, compared to when anyone else tries to talk to you—maybe excluding Price, or Soap, or Gaz, heavy on that maybe—you’re more likely than not brushing them off every chance you get. You’re standoffish with everyone else, but with him, you’ll always accept any conversation he initiates. 

He can also see the way you look at him. It’s like you’re looking at your idol, or your savior, the way you look up at him. He can see that curious glint in your eyes when he tells you about a recent mission, or when he tells you anything, really. He can see when you try to mimic how he holds his weapons, and when you try to copy his techniques. 

He remembers catching you one day in the shooting range trying to mimic how he aims at the targets—looking through your scope with one eye closed, the other focused only on the dot centered on the scope, taking a deep breath in and out before shooting, and keeping the gun exactly like that even seconds after the shot’s been fired. 

In fact, the copying has gone from guns to melee weapons recently. Ghost swings only his forearm when he uses a knife, thumb resting on the very end of the knife’s handle, and entire arm stiff as he does. He does a slow windup when behind someone, a fast one on the off-chance that he’s in front, and buries the weapon to the hilt in whoever’s flesh he’s penetrated. He’s already seen you do the same on a recent mission. Not only that, but he caught you using a knife almost identical to his. 

And now, you’re still looking at him like that—except, different. Sort of like how a kid might look up to their parents. 

“What do you feel like doing, kiddo?” He asks, hoping the pet name isn’t too much. 

From the way your eyes light up, he suspects it isn't. 

“Mmm…” You hum, thinking for a moment, before requesting, “Coloring?” 

“Coloring, huh?” Ghost looks around for some blank paper and some sort of marker or pen thick enough to act as one, but can only find some highlighters. He turns to you, frowning, “Sorry, but I don’t think I have any paper, kid. Anything else you wanna do?”

You shake your head, and Ghost is just about ready to jump off of a bridge before you point to his arm and repeat, “Coloring.” 

He looks at his arm for a second, confused, before he remembers a conversation the two of you had a month or so ago. 

“If you ever wanna get tattoos, I know a guy in Brighton,” Ghost said, reclining his chair back so that he can lay down in it. You were sitting across from him in front of his desk, fiddling with one of his pens. 

“Good to know,” You hummed, “You have any tattoos?” 

“Yeah,” You perked up at his admission, and he sat up for a second to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual gear, only one of those standard issue army-green shirts. 

“Here,” He pointed to a large tattoo covering his whole arm like a sleeve, a few designs you could point out to yourself being a skull, a few Roman numerals, and some kind of scythe. 

“Very emo,” You commented, making Ghost snort, “I like it.” 

“I’m glad,” He rolled his sleeve back down. 

There’s a lot of blank space in the tattoo, despite it being a sleeve, and he can already tell that you mean you want to color in that space. He thinks about it for a moment, a fleeting thought of is that even safe? crossing his mind before he ultimately decides that he doesn’t care and would rather kill himself than see you disappointed because he denied your request, his own health be damned. 

“Alright,” He hums, grabbing a few highlighters from a mesh cup on his desk in the colors pink, yellow, and blue, “Go for it.” 

You give him a small smile and if he cared about if he’d get ink poisoning two seconds ago, he sure as hell doesn’t care now. You gingerly grab the highlighters from his hand, your grabbing not too secure and sort of clumsy but secure enough that the markers stay in your hand.

You hold them with both hands, and it makes Ghost realize how small your hands are—sure, you could hold the highlighters with one hand, but he’s glad you aren’t because now he can admire just how small you are as a whole. 

You set the yellow and blue down on his desk, making sure they don’t roll off for a moment before uncapping the pink and hesitantly holding out a hand for Ghost’s arm. He rolls up his sleeve and obediently holds out his arm for you, watching curiously as you press the cold tip of the highlighter to his skin. You’re starting by coloring in the skull a neon pink, much to his amusement, and you’re starting in the dead center of its forehead. 

You’re so much more quiet than you usually are when you’re little, and you’re so much more hesitant, it makes Ghost want to just wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe and in his sight forever. 

Your tongue slightly pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on coloring in Ghost’s tattoo, making him grin beneath his mask. The ink of the highlighter doesn’t stay within the black bounds of his tattoos at all, but he doesn’t care one bit, and he doesn’t think you care either. You finish up the skull quickly, and move onto the scythe that’s right next to it, this time capping the pink highlighter and grabbing the yellow. 

Ghost is pretty sure this is gonna stain his skin for a day or two, but he couldn’t care less.

He can’t help but notice how much more relaxed you look in your regressed state. More at peace, he should say. There’s no longer a hunch in your shoulders, your eyes aren’t twitching from your headache, and you’re not bouncing your leg like you usually do when you’re sitting down somewhere. It’s like any anxieties you had pre-regression had evaporated, like slipping into a younger mentality had taken away most of your worries, if not all of them. 

He also can’t help but wish he could see you like this more often. Not necessarily the regressed part, but the relaxed part. Well, maybe the regressed part too. You’re being such a sweetheart right now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live through this experience. 

“You having fun there, darling?” Ghost asks, his grin evident in his voice. The corners of your lips quirk up at the pet name and you nod silently, and now Ghost is starting to think you’re actually trying to kill him. You’re being so uncharacteristically shy, and you’re being so quiet, and you’re just being so sweet. 

It seems you’ve moved onto the blue highlighter now, coloring in the last bit of his tattoo. He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash it off—or, at least, he wouldn’t if he had a choice. He knows that he has to shower sometime soon, but surely he can put that off for a bit, right?

Once you’re finished with your coloring, you cap the highlighter, and set it down next to the others you’ve discarded. You turn Ghost’s arm the tiniest bit towards him so that he can see your work better. 

“‘s it good?” You ask quietly, watching intently for Ghost’s reaction. He looks over your coloring job and hums approvingly. 

“It’s amazing, I love it,” He assures you, smiling down softly at you, “You did great.” 

You seem to preen at the praise, and you take your hand off of Ghost’s arm, moving to put in your lap. You’re keeping yourself very contained, Ghost notices, Why? 

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you yawn, and you quickly move to cover your mouth as you do. He’s reminded that it’s almost twenty-two hundred, and while that usually wouldn’t be an issue for him, it’s an issue for you. You originally came to the 141 as someone who had a sleep schedule almost as fucked up at Ghost’s, but soon developed a habit of going to sleep somewhat early considering the training you had in the morning. So, now you get tired anywhere from eighteen-hundred to twenty-one hundred. After that, your only goal is to find somewhere to sleep. 

“Sleepy?” You nod tiredly, making Ghost coo, Ghost, the man who quite literally haunts some people’s nightmares, coos at you, “Aw, of course you are, sweetheart. Pretty sure it’s way past your bedtime by now.” 

“Nuh uh,” You deny, making Ghost chuckle. 

“‘Nuh uh’?” He asks, amused, “What d’you mean ‘nuh uh’?” 

“No b’dtime,” You shortly elaborate. 

“Ohhh, okay,” Ghost feigns realization, “You think you’re too big for a bedtime, huh?” 

“Mhm. Way too big.”

“I dunno about ‘way’ too big,” Ghost hums, checking to see if the highlighter on his arm has dried before he pulls his sleeve back down. “You seem pretty little to me.” 

“No,” You whine, dragging out the ‘o’, “Not lil’.” 

“Hmm… you sure, kiddo?” Ghost asks, “So if I ask you if you need to go to bed, you’re gonna say ‘no’?” 

That makes you hesitate, and Ghost almost thinks he’s won, before your own pettiness wins and you nod affirmatively. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Alright, well, you’ve gotta sleep at some point,” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. 

You think this over for a second, and he watches as you look over him for a moment before looking down at his lap, then looking back up at him. He can already tell there’s some sort of plan forming in your mind.  Wordlessly, you get up, and Ghost does nothing to stop you as you decide to just plop yourself down into his lap. You straddle his thighs, moving until you’re sitting comfortably on him, and then let yourself slump forward so that your face is resting in the crook of his neck. It takes him a moment to process what just happened, before he laughs lightly and wraps both of his arms around you to keep you in place. 

“Oh, okay,” He grins, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you just wanna cuddle with me until you fall asleep? Is that what this is?” 

He feels you nod against his neck, and his grin grows as he rubs one hand against your back, trying to soothe you to sleep. He doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract you from your attempts to sleep anymore, simply letting you stay slumped against him. Your breathing wasn’t too fast-paced to begin with, but as you relax even more in his arms, he can feel your breathing even out. 

You’re falling asleep fairly quickly, and the only complaint he has is that he didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as he wanted to with you while you were awake and regressed. 

Once he’s sure you’re barely awake, he murmurs, “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?” 

— 

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the slight rustling of clothes, and then you feel yourself moving up. 

Your mind still feels foggy and you can tell you’re still somewhat in that younger mindset of yours, but now you’re significantly less bothered by it than you were before. You’re awake enough to be aware of what’s happening, always having been a light-sleeper, but not awake enough to know exactly what’s happening. You don’t dare open your eyes, and try to keep your breathing even—though that isn’t much of a challenge. 

That headache that had been building up earlier has fully disappeared, thank God, and you no longer feel the tension in your shoulder that you’d been unconsciously carrying. 

You can sort of feel someone’s arms snaked under your back, and you know that you’re being moved somewhere. Quickly, you remember that it’s Ghost carrying you, and that you had fallen asleep on him, much to your embarrassment. Or, at least, it would be much to your embarrassment if you had the mental capacity to feel embarrassed about that right now. But you feel so comfy and so safe that it really doesn’t matter to you right now. 

You can hear the clicking of Ghost’s boots against the concrete floors of the hallway, and he’s carrying you off somewhere; you imagine that somewhere to be your sleeping quarters. He’s walking pretty fast, not hurriedly but still at a somewhat fast pace. 

Soon, he reaches a stopping point where he has to awkwardly put one leg up to support your back on his thigh as he quickly reaches one arm out to turn the knob of the door to your sleeping quarters and pulls that arm right back to support your back again. He sighs as he puts his foot back down, kicking open the door and walking in. 

He’s quick to reach your bed, and he pauses as he considers what to do. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering how he’s gonna get you under the covers while he’s still carrying you, and for a second you think about showing him you’re awake so that things are easier for him before he sets you down on the bed. 

He pulls the covers up and stops when he reaches the part your body covers, and picks you back up, before dropping you right back off where the blankets have been pulled away. He pulls the covers back over you. 

After a few moments, you think he’s left the room, before you hear the rustling of fabric and feel him leaning down. He gently presses his lips to your forehead and pulls away after a second or two, before quietly mumbling, “Night, kiddo.”

He stays there for a moment before you hear his footsteps leave the room, and then the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the room entirely. 

You’re quick to fall asleep after that.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

The love letter

So recently I found these love letters I've written from each brother towards MC and they are absolutely adorable! I completely forgot about them tbh. Turns out I've written them about a year ago but here they are.. Enjoy!

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

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Lucifer

Hello, MC. It's me, Lucifer. And before you start wondering why I've written to you and begin questioning your past mischiefs, know that I'm not writing to you to scold you. This isn't an official written demand either. Though think about it? What if it was a demand? An official written demand for you to come to my office and sit beside me while I work when I'm covered in endless piles of paperwork. Or and official written demand for you to spend more time with me because the time apart has been getting to me and I feel anxious without you. It's needless to say that I need you. So take this as an official written demand for you to love me more. Me and me alone. Love me the way I love you. I want to occupy your heart just like you've been occupying mine. When did you even put this spell upon me I wonder? Nevertheless, come to my room. I want to show you the love I'm capable of, darling.

-Your dear Avatar of Pride, Lucifer.

Mammon

Hey there, MC it's me The Great Mammon! Of course you know it's me duh! So there has been somethin' I've been meanin' to tell ya ...How do people say this damn? So as ya might have already noticed I've been actin' little weird and been blushing quite more frequently (< I searched that word up to be sure) around you . I don't even know if I'm myself anymore. And the worst thing is that I'm thinking about you more than makin' money! But it's not like I'm in love with you nah deffo not! ... Ok fine! I-I am in l-love with ya! Ya happy? Guess I do love you more than money huh? I'm crazy 'bout ya, MC. Head over heels in love. More than I've been with anyone else. ... Well yeah that's it. All right that's done, time to get some money! Ya know me! See ya, baby!

-your Great Mammon <3

Leviathan

Hi, MC it's me Levi. How are you doing? Wanna play something? Or even maybe hang out for a bit? We could talk or s-snuggle up together while watching your favourite anime. Anything you would like it would be my pleasure to do! ... Uhh it's like recently I've been craving to hang out with you and get to know you as well as constantly play games with you. It's like a certain urge of doing so. Could it be something similar to the connection between Henry and the lord of Shadow in The Tale of the Seven Lords? But they are just close friends. Something like ... I believe they call it "partners in crime". But what I feel for you is quite different. Maybe something like the relationship between Ruri-chan and her lover. Yes differently something like that. But that puts it as if I've fallen for you. Could it be? C-Could I b-be in l-l-love with you? And if I am, does that still make me an otaku? Answer this for me Ok? See you... Love?

-Your player number 1, Levi <3

Satan

Hi, MC. You know... it's been quite some time since we last hung out together. Wanna come read with me in the library or stop at this new cat café? I could pet your head and stroke your hair like the little kitten you are to me. I could read you endless stories of fortune and love as well as spoil you until every single desire of yours is fulfilled. Let me help you indulge in a world of fantasy and passion, showing you every side of myself that you haven't seen. Every emotion I feel when I am lost in your eyes or hidden within your embrace. A world of true ecstasy and love I know you've been craving to see. Let me take you to the unbelievable debts of my heart which is spoiled from the love that's been sitting there long enough. And now that love has a name. "MC". I love you, kitten.

-your wrath-cat, Satan

Asmodeus

Hey hey heyyyyy, MC!!! Yesterday I bought a new nail polish and I'm sure it will look absolutelyyyy adorableee on you!!! Let's try it out together, m'kay? We can match! Oh just imagine the look on Mammon's face when he sees us matching! He will pull up that pouty face that I so love! Anywayyyssss.. afterwards we can take a bath together with your favourite bath salts! Let's look fabulous together, MC! Though you may not manage to look more beautiful than me but you can always be second! Actually... MC, in my heart you are the first. People may be all over me and I do show love to each of them but the most sincere love I feel is for you. I love you, my adorable, fluffy, little sheep! And this love is a lot different than the love for my followers. I love you as my partner. So what do you say to the offer? You become my partner and I become only yours? Sufficient enough? Bye bye, hon!

-Yours truly, Asmo <3

Beelzebub

Hello, MC. Are you hungry? Let's go to Hell's kitchen. Me and Belphie were planning on going to eat Devil sandwiches there but he fell asleep. Though I was going to invite you to come with us anyway I'd love to go with you alone. We could make it a lunch date at Hell's kitchen. But MC, you need to know that as hungry as I have been recently food has not been enough. Well it has never been enough but I feel even more hungry. Hungry... Hmm though am I hungry for food? Or maybe I'm hungry for your love and affection. And this hunger is stronger than the regular one, MC. Sometimes I wonder if it's even a hunger or a need for you. And it never goes away. The only time it subsides is when I'm with you. Which indicates that we have to spend more time together to fulfil my hunger. Will you stay with me, MC? Let's meet up in the kitchen so I could show you the depths of my hunger. I love you, muffin.

-Your cinnamon roll glutton, Beel

Belphegor

MC, hi. How have you been doing? Beel mentioned that when he was going to the kitchen yesterday for his midnight snack he heard you, Mammon and Levi playing games together. My point is... MC do you sleep enough? I can't imagine a world without sleep. If it was forbidden to sleep I would gladly go and die. But... That was before. Now.. I feel like if sleep was really forbidden I could manage with you around. You've made a change in me, MC. I can't say I don't like it though. I feel more productive even if I take constant naps. You make me feel this way. It's like.. I feel loved. Though it's a different kind of love than what my brothers and I share. It's more.. passionate. It's more deep. It's constantly making me tired but when I go to bed I can't fall asleep if I don't hear your voice or feel you cuddled up against me. So let me say this: I love you. Will you be my body pillow next time, my cuddle bug-... Zzz..

-Your sleepy boy, Belphie. Zzz

[saturnbellfromhell]

WHAT I THINK OF YOUR VENUS SIGN part I.

So after taking a month long break unexpectedly, I'm back with something fresh and fun to get myself back on track. I've already had a post like this, but it got flagged for inappropriate language. So this time, I'm toning it down a little. This is my SUBJECTIVE view on the Venus signs, so don't take it personally. For the record I'm an earth Venus, so if you experience some similarities, comment down below so we can discuss! With that being said, shall we get started?

🟫ARIES VENUS

For some odd reason, Aries Venuses always pop up in my life. As a boyfriend or as a lover, the main thing I love about them is how forward they are with their emotions. They can be love bombers, so watch out. But in my experience, they just want to skip to the good part. No caution what so ever. In love they are so playful, gitty, humorous and down to earth. They are always very fiery and exciting in the bedroom. If you want to have a summer fling, get yourself an Aries Venus, you will never forget it. Not saying they are only for that, when being in a relationship with them, you really have to keep things fresh and new, otherwise they will get bored and move on fast.

🟫TAURUS VENUS

O my, now of course since I am an earth Venus, this one really gets me. They just smother the hell outta me every time I meet them. Very grounded and patient in love. You won't really see a Taurus Venus jump from relationship to relationship. They are so passionate, loving and caring it can sometimes be too good to be true. Until...the jealousy appears. Tauruses in my perspective are very calm, cuddly and cute, until they feel insecure. Than they can become absolute hell. Make sure to reasure your Taurus Venus partner and shower them with affection and romance. Their love language is a mix of cuddling, acts of service and words of affermation. I really can't pin just one. They also love giving and receiving gifts. Such divas, I know.

🟫GEMINI VENUS

This Venus placement is not for the weak. First of all you have to be a very talkative and amusing individual to even grab their attention. Secondly, if your going to try to change their views on romance, love, marriage...think again. Gemini Venus is the sign that lives for an adventurous partner. They love their freedom more than anything. They're also the one's to not be very stuck on their ex, in my experience. They just go on with their life. Not the lovey dovey, die for you placement, but a very different experience if you ask me! This can vary if their is a lot of water in the chart, of course.

🟫CANCER VENUS

Want to stay in bed and kiss/cuddle all day? Well than Cancer Venus people are for you! They are the queens and kings of doing things for other people. So yes, their love language is acts of service and also psychical touch! They love to be hugged and kissed and all the time. They can be quite clingy sometimes and not want to leave the house, since they feel the safest that way. They are very emotional, intuitive and can get easily hurt. When being hurt they back away and look at the bigger picture. They are also a sign that in my perspective only goes good with another Cancer Venus or Pisces/Scorpio Venus.

🟫LEO VENUS

I've written about Leo Venuses in the past in one of my observation posts, but I'll say it again. They are not my cup of tea, but I absolutely adore them. They are the one's who want their significant other to shine all the way. They put their partners on pedestals and shower them in gifts and affection. They are not the one's to shy away from PDA or any semi sexual talk/act with their loved one. They are always risky in the bedroom, but like it their way. Their love language is for sure words of affermation and physical touch!

🟫VIRGO VENUS

I've grown up with two Virgo Venuses my whole life. My mom and dad are both Virgo Venuses and what I've learned from them and others is that this sign takes the crown for acts of service when it comes to love language department. They aren't the one's to be super romantic and clingy, but they show their love in other ways. They can be a little critical of their partner, but it isn't in a mean way. What they want is their partner being/becoming more successful. They love to do something and show to their partner, it puts a smile on their face when they validated threw their actions.

× Keep in mind while the sign in which Venus is is very important, where they act is in the houses. So of course an Aries Venus in the 1st house is nothing like an Aries Venus in the 9th house! Yes they have some similarities, but are nothing alike.

Like for part 2 if you enjoyed this!

xoxo n.k

[punkshort]

because i have no self control and i'm super excited, i felt like sharing a tiny piece of what i've written so far for the first part of in another life:

You stopped dead in your tracks when you stepped into your apartment, door wide open behind you, two pizza boxes balancing in one hand as you stared blankly at the massive man standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in some strange type of robe that fell just above his knee and his head was bent, looking at something on your coffee table. When you cleared your throat, he swung around and defensively placed a hand at his waist. That was when you noticed the massive and very real looking sword at his side and your blood ran cold. "D-Danny!" you yelled, your eyes glued to the stranger's hand. As if he finally sensed your fear, he dropped his arm and straightened up. "Apologies-" "Danny!" you yelled again, louder this time. "Yeah? Hey! Sorry," Danny said, hurrying into the room with Lizard following on his heels. "Oh, pizza? Sweet," Lizard said, reaching for the boxes and brushing past you as if an armed man wasn't standing in the middle of your home. "Who the hell is this?!" you exclaimed, pointing towards the stranger while glaring at your brother. "I told you already, he's a friend who's crashing on the couch for a few days," he replied, following Lizard into the kitchen, pizza the only concern at that point. "My lady," the man began again, "please allow me to explain." "My lady?" you repeated with a scowl. "I thought you guys stopped playing Dungeons and Dragons after high school." "That's not -" Danny shook his head with a mouthful of pizza, "this is General Acacius." "General?" you said quizzically, raising an eyebrow first at Danny, then towards the large man in your living room. "Be serious, Danny." "He is!" "I promise, what he says is true," the general chimed in, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. You sighed and dropped your things onto your table. "I'm too tired for this, it's been a long week." The general frowned, hand still outstretched. "Daniel, please explain to your mistress she is not to challenge men above her lover's ranking." You balked and gagged. "Lover?!" "Mistress?" Danny said at the same with a similar look of disgust. "Gross, dude, she's my sister." Something in the general's face shifted when he learned you were siblings and he looked at you with renewed interest. "Ah, so you do not belong to another?"

[from-the-clouds]

lost in the fire - kendall roy x f!reader

| masterlist | succession sideblog: @kendollroyco | my kendall playlist

chapter summary: your boyfriend works too much. a oneshot, but if we're being real, i was thinking about kendall and the reader from thinking of a place, because i miss them. pairing: kendall roy x f!reader words: 4.6k warnings: SMUT (18+ only). soft dom Kendall. Somewhat unhealthy/jealous/co-dependent relationship but this is a Succession fic so like…what do we expect? Alcohol consumption - I don't know what Kendall's definition of sobriety is but he drinks a cocktail in this. a/n: i'll get back to tlou but i've had this partially written for like a year at this point. It started out as more of a manic Ken on a power trip type of fic but then it got really soft and fluffy because I am feeling touch-deprived lately so I’m sorry if I didn’t deliver enough evil ken for ya’ll. :/ OOPS!

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

"We're like the Lewis and Clark of fucking." - Kendall Roy

Teetering down the hallway, you attempt to quell the outrageously loud click, click, click of your stilettos against the marble floor by shifting most of your weight into the ball of your feet and shuffling forward. It only makes it harder for you to balance while you attempt to put on the flashy gold hoop earrings your friend had insisted you’d wear. Of course, being quiet didn’t really matter, because you were the only person inhabiting the Hudson Yards penthouse. 

As usual, you are running late. Famously, you always underestimate how long it will take to get ready for social events – your friends could attest to that. It is a bad habit that, despite years of trying to correct, you can never quite shake. 

Beelining for the double doors of the multi-million dollar home, you are interrupted by your name being called out in a sing-songy voice. There is a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turn towards the familiar sound to find your boyfriend rounding the corner, a drink in hand.

The sight of him at home is rare these days, that for a second, you aren’t even sure if it’s really him. Maybe the place is being  haunted by an eerily similar lookalike, or it could be some new ridiculous billionaire technology that he’d invested in– holographic messaging, or something similarly dystopian that you’d roll your eyes at when he tries to explain it to you. It’s fuckin’ next level, I’m telling you. I’m a fucking tech pioneer. You can practically hear him trying to sell you on it despite your distaste.

“Ken?” you cling to the clutch under your arm, unable to stop the shit-eating grin that works its way onto your face. “Hey. When did you get home?”

“Hey yourself,” he answers, poorly hiding a bemused smirk behind Baccarat crystal. “I just got in.”

That much was clear, even though his briefcase and coat had already been cleared away from the table in the entranceway, and his suit jacket draped over the back of a barstool. “Are you going out?” He lowers the tumbler and leans against the counter, but still keeps it close, one finger sliding along the rim. 

“Yeah,” you approach Kendall cautiously. “...did you get my text? I thought I’d get ready here, we’re going to that place around the corner.”

He’d given you a key to his flat, even though the relationship was still pretty new – but decidedly not that new, given your history. Things were still moving quickly though, if you compare him to your past flings.

Kendall’s eyes close briefly in recognition, his brows pulling together as though he is scolding himself. “Oh, uh-huh, yeah….right.” It’s then, and in closing the space between you, that his haggard appearance becomes clear. You’re one of few who would probably even notice it. To the untrained eye his white dress shirt is impeccable, crisp and stark as usual – save for the lack of cufflinks, which you notice he’s discarded on the counter alongside his drink. His tie is still fastened tightly around his neck in a perfect half-Windsor. But salt and pepper stubble is sprinkled across his jawline, faint red hazy in the whites of his amber eyes. 

Work has consumed him in the last few weeks. It’s been nonstop. And he is still home earlier than you have expected, even though the sun had gone down long ago.

Kendall’s hand wraps around your waist and you lean against him, accepting his affectionate peck on the cheek. “Hey, honey.” The cedar notes of his cologne, the acidity of the vodka on his breath, and the weight of his arm around you makes your stomach flip, even as he draws back, releasing you so he can sit on a barstool. It’s probably for the better, as the impulse to throw yourself into his arms and abandon your plans will become impossible to resist if you don’t leave soon.

It would be a lie to say his career hasn’t put a strain on things lately. Business trips, dinner meetings, weekend conventions all seem determined to keep him away from you. For the past few weeks, you’ve been deprived of him, forced to accept only minutes of his time – mostly sweet nothings and apologies whispered as falls into bed beside you, then presses of his lips on your cheek, still half-asleep in the early hours of the morning as he leaves the next day. You have been forced to savor those moments, even though they are hardly substantial. But you know yourself, you aren’t better off with someone else. He has always been what you wanted.

Still, lately you have been thinking about all his failed past relationships. There is certainly a…pattern. You’ve seen enough, and sometimes it feels like you are purposely ignoring the signs – Watch Your Step!, before falling into a pit of daggers. 

He needed a break or he’d burn out, but you’ve learned when to bite your tongue and save those suggestions for when you are sure they won’t erupt. And you both aren’t always good at keeping arguments good-natured. 

Kendall shifts in his chair so he can look you up and down – this time up close. “Is this what you’re wearing out?”

“Uhhhh, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, feeling your face heat up. 

“Turn around,” his resting facial expression is already kind of indignant, but you can tell right now that he’s definitely frowning. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says. “I want to see.”

You shrug, but obey, unable to hide the way your lips quirk when you are back facing him again, hands on your hips. All you have to do is read the look on Kendall’s face to know that he doesn’t approve. And even though there is no way in hell you are going to change, the slight blaze in his narrowed eyes makes you think this is about to become a controversy. 

“Do you have a problem?” you ask, feigning innocence, glancing down at the getup. The red dress barely covers your ass – is far more revealing than anything you’d normally wear, accompanied by stiletto heels that lace up your calves. Sure, it’s a lot, but you look good, and you’re going out. 

“You’ll definitely be getting a lot of attention,” he conveniently doesn’t answer your question.

If you weren’t wearing lipstick, you would’ve bit your lower lip to keep your composure. Instead, you tilt your head and give him a coy smile. “You should come with me.” 

Kendall glances down at the countertop and shakes his head, the comment causing him to drop the subject of your attire entirely. “I can’t. I’ve got a meeting first thing.” To be fair, he avoids the club scene most of the time, so it’s not a well-thought-out offer. Too much temptation. “But you look good,” he concedes. 

“A work meeting on a Saturday?” you ask, ignoring the compliment. “Fuck,” you reach to take a sip from his tumbler. The vodka he keeps here is always chilled to perfection, so smooth it tastes like it’s melting off a glacier. “It’s that bad?”

He takes the beverage from your hand when you return it, shrugging before throwing the rest back, then standing to pour another. “Just the usual, la-dee-fuckin-dah….corporate bullshit.”

You frown and stare at your shoes, flexing your foot and inspecting its soles.

“Those heels don’t look very comfortable,” he remarks as he passes you.

“They aren’t.”

“Well then I’ll guess I’ll have to take you shopping to replace them.”

You feel yourself flush. “Let me know when you can fit me in your schedule.” 

“Uh-huh,” Kendall ignores your jab, changes the subject. “How’s your job?”

“Same as yours. La-dee-fuckin’-dah corporate bullshit,” you repeat his words from earlier, lowering your voice slightly to mimic his cadence of speaking. 

The sound of his warm chuckle makes your stomach flip again. “You want me to, uh, pour you one?”

“No, I should probably get going.” You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you are running behind, and you hear the clink of ice against crystal.

Then, his voice, deep and husky, directly against your ear. “Who’re you texting?”

You jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity.  “Fuck! Sorry,” you clear your throat. “Uh….the group chat.”

Kendall’s arm reaches past you to place his drink on the counter, and you feel his fingertips brush the hair away from the nape of your neck. Then, his lips follow, pressing there gently, his thumb trailing down your arm and then back up again. You shiver at the contact, and it dawns on you how touch-deprived you are.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against sensitive skin. His hands land on your shoulders and begin to knead at the taut muscles there. You try to keep yourself tense, even as you feel your phone slipping out of your hands, the drafted text all-but forgotten.

But instinctually, you shift backwards to feel the weight of his chest pressed against you.“You’re all wound up,” Almost chastising. Every part of your body below your bellybutton clenches. It’s those hands, his hands. Hands that used to wrap around your throat, thread into your hair, hold your wrists in place. Pin you down, spread you open…. While you think about them, you let him work at the tension that he is partially responsible for, nodding and letting out a long exhale.

“Just a little.”

“When are you gonna quit that job?” he asks you.

You first, you want to say, but let the retort die before it could leave your mouth. “Hmmmmm,” you pretend to mull it over, but you’re only half-aware of things he’s saying to you. “I don’t know.” 

“What kind of uh, feminist would I be if I let a girl as hot as fucking you have to worry about a job?”

You can’t help but snort, turning your head so his forehead bumps against your own. “Is that how feminism works?” 

“Uh-huh,” he chides, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Fucking whatever. I wish you’d just let me look after you.”

You are unable to find your voice to answer, because you remember through your needy haze that you are running late, and when he says things like that, it certainly doesn’t help you regain composure. It’s only after you straighten, trying to pull yourself out of the trance he’s worked you into, that you discover how close he has pinned you to the countertop.

“Ken-” you try to protest, but the way it comes out sounds more like you’re pleading.

“What is it?” Kendall asks, returning his lips once more to your neck, beginning to work them tenderly up the column of your throat, which makes it impossible for you to finish the rest of the objection. “I’ve missed you so much,” he pulls you back against him by your waist.

“Me too,” you sigh. “But I-,” you’re cut off when he grinds against you, already half-hard, and your pelvis hits the granite lip of the countertop. It hurts, just for a second, but the pain is quickly replaced by warmth. Kendall pulls his hands away and you’re only held in place by his hips, the metal of his belt buckle cool against your sacrum. The dress you’re wearing is so thin it feels like there’s nothing separating him from your bare skin. 

“You what?” he prompts when you remain silent. You know him well enough to hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face, and his nails rake up and down your arms.

It’s a little petty, but you are hesitant to give yourself over so easily to him. To abandon your evening, just because he’s finally decided to see you at a reasonable hour. Of course, if your friends knew you were late because you were with him, they wouldn’t care. Kendall had been a well-kept secret until it was impossible to deny his existence in your life. But they were all a little too supportive of the relationship, since it meant they suddenly had guaranteed access to any club VIP section - and you perpetually pick up the bill. Not to mention the first-class, luxury accommodations they get on girls trips. 

There was more to it than just being late, though. You had always been willing to do anything for him, even before you were dating. He told you to jump, you asked how far? He gave you one pleading look from underneath those thick lashes – and you folded. And Kendall is very aware that he’s your weakness. So you constantly try to convince him otherwise, lest he get too comfortable. And really, after his neglectful behavior, did he really deserve you without any opposition?

“Kendall,” you manage to turn slightly. “I’m going to be late.” Wriggling some more in his grip, but it’s only enough to bring you face-to-face, looking up into his stormy eyes. 

He studies you carefully, like he might let you leave if he senses enough conviction. “I don’t care.”

You might’ve laughed, if it weren’t for how stern he sounds. It almost scares you. Almost. Hoping to soften him, you fit your thumb into the dimpled fabric of his tie, and use it to drag him forward, offering a tender kiss on his cheek. Returning the embrace, his stubble scratches your face as he smiles against you. He reaches behind you for another sip of his drink and his unoccupied hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass through the silky fabric. 

You are burning, fire licking up your arms, your neck, your face. It’s too much, to have him so close and not be able to have him. All the tension building with nowhere for it to go. When he pulls back, you lean forward.

It’s a little rough at first, because you are so desperate, tasting the vodka, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth. Kendall is the one who softens you, cradles your jaw to draw you closer, opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, so deliberate and practiced that you’re unable to speak when he pulls away. 

“Tell me something,” full lips so close to yours that they brush your own when he speaks, your eyes fluttering shut. His touch coasts up your sides, up your arms, landing on your shoulders. “Who are you showing off for in this?” Kendall hooks his pointed finger around a spaghetti strap of your dress, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin. You savor the sting it leaves behind.

Admittedly, there’s a third reason why you’re being so withholding. He’s so spoiled, so used to getting what he wants, whenever he wants it. Not just from you. And when he doesn’t get it, he becomes petulant, fiery. You’ve learned that if you piss him off just enough, you don’t have to ask him to fuck you within an inch of your life. He just does. 

So, you decide to poke the sleeping bear, shrugging and crossing your arms like it’s nothing, giving him a demure smile. “You wouldn’t know him.”

Kendall’s nostrils flare as his hand rises to grip your jaw – tightly. “Uh-huh.” Even if you’re only joking, the very idea of you dressing up at all – let alone like that –  for anyone except himself, pisses him off.  “Fuck you.”

“You’d like to, wouldn’t you?” you try to keep your voice even, but it sort of loses the steadiness you were hoping for when he hooks a finger behind your knee, dragging it up across the expensive, soft wool of his slacks to peg around his hip.

The bruising kiss that answers is clearly intended to erase the smug look on your face, and it works – your breath hitching, the hand on his tie tugging him closer. Kendall seems to speak without saying anything at all, grabbing your opposite thigh and lifting until you are perched on the edge of the countertop.

It’s getting real, but you still haven’t decided if you are actually going to stick around. The way he looks right now, however, swings the pendulum farther into the side of staying in – red lipstick left behind on his cheek, shirt wrinkled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. You wanted to make him look even more wrecked. 

Kissing him again, his hands begin to roam, tugging the dress off your shoulders and freeing your tits. “Shit,” He dips his head to sloppily mouthing at the newly exposed skin. “Knew you weren’t wearing a fuckin’ bra.”

“Ken,” you squirm when he latches onto one of your nipples, pinching the other between two fingers. “I really need to get going.”

“Not yet,” he hums, the vibration of his voice against your skin makes the space between your legs ache. “If you’re going to go out in this fucking dress,  I don’t want you to forget who you belong to.”

You squirm in his grip – not because you want to get away from him – but because you want to see if he’ll pin you in place, be even rougher. He does. He is. “Stop that. This isn’t a fucking negotiation.”

Well, okay.

He kneads into your thighs now, one of his hands dipping beneath the skirt of your dress that’s already so short he’s only an inch or so away from your already-soaked panties. 

“Fuck,” You tilt your head back to look at the ceiling, like you might find some self-control there, some will to resist him, but it’s about as cold and uninspiring as the rest of the apartment. “Please.”

Kendall lets out a dark chuckle,  pushing aside your thong and brushing his knuckles against your damp cunt. He loves to tease, and right now is no exception. His touch isn’t enough to satisfy, so you press yourself forward to seek it out yourself. You don’t dare meet his eyes, which you can feel are watching you intently, admiring how you keen and arch and whimper in frustration. Still, you aren’t quite ready to beg. 

Thankfully, you don’t have to. Without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning as he does, his thumb finding your clit.

“Yes, Kendall, that’s–” you don’t finish the thought because you aren’t entirely sure what you actually have to say. His digits curl, attentive, practiced – tuned in to  exactly what you like, what you need.  You grip at the fabric of his shirt that’s bunched around his elbows. Despite how intense meeting his gaze right now will be, you turn to look at him anyway, surprised by the affection and warmth you find in his eyes. 

“You try so hard not to be,” he says while he continues to stare you down. “But you’re always so fucking good for me.”

Your stomach flips, partly in shame, partly because of how good it’s always felt to be seen by him. Throbbing around him, feeling your pleasure build, but he withdraws his fingers from you before it can crest. An embarrassing noise leaves you, squeezing your eyes shut. 

The clink of his belt unbuckling immediately snaps you back to reality, and you hike your dress further up your hips, shimmying out of your thong. It’s pitiful, the way you don’t want to delay any longer the feeling of him inside you. 

He strokes himself in his hand, lines his cock up, and pushes a piece of hair off your face. 

“You want me?” he asks, and you bob your head enthusiastically. “Tell me, then.”

“I want you, Kendall. Please, I want you so bad.” 

“Yeah you do,” he mutters, and wastes no time jerking forward to enter you. 

Though you’d had him plenty of times you never could quite get used to the feeling – he’s big, of course, and it’s always electric, the blood in your veins buzzing, your hands tightening on his shoulders. 

“Relax, honey,” Kendall says, feeling the way your body tenses at the intrusion, placing a hand on your sacrum, one between your shoulder blades to steady you.

He presses his hips forward until they are flush against your own, bottoming out inside you, pausing. It’s welcome at first, a chance to catch your breath, to let out a shuddery exhale - temporarily appeased by the way your cunt stretches to accommodate him, and he’s so close to you after so much time spent away. You’re embarrassed at how badly you’ve needed this, how reliant on him you’ve become, but he always feels so good. 

Kendall stays still for long enough that you grow frustrated, and you use his tie to pull him closer, loosening the knot and rutting against him until he presses his thumb into the crease of your hip and thigh so hard you are forced to stop. Once you do, he starts to move, thrusts slow but deep, lips pressing hastily between panting breaths. 

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he laments.

Despite everything, you can’t help but talk back. “You don’t say?”

Kendall doesn’t like that at all, his hips snapping at a punishing pace, which seems more like a reward than anything else, his hand clasping your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Don’t speak to me like that,’ he warns.

An involuntary, low moan leaves you. It’s overwhelming – always is. You aren’t used to sex with someone you feel so connected to, or with a lover who is so attentive to your needs, who effortlessly strikes a perfect balance between rough, passionate, and tender. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, anxious to run your hands through the smattering of hair on his chest, feel the warmth of his skin under your palms. Even if it’s not possible, you want to be closer to him. Needy. So needy. You’ve heard it from him before, and would probably hear it again. He is right, and in moments like this, you can never bring yourself to care. You like it.

He’s watching you so intently, and the rest of the city might as well be too. He basically lives in a fishbowl, you’re surrounded by windows that offer panoramic views of the glittering lights of the city. The only reason you have any privacy at all is because of just how high up you are, no one else can actually see you right now. Even if they did, what could possibly happen? Kendall loves to take advantage of this – he’s taken you up against the cold glass windows, has let you sink to your knees in front of him out on his balcony. 

“What are you gonna tell your friends when they ask why you were so late tonight?” he asks. “Gonna tell them you were letting me spread you open on the fucking counter?”

“God,” you stutter out, always shocked by the things that come out of his mouth when takes you like this, voice deep and firm, enunciating each syllable like he’s giving a speech – frustratingly collected. It makes you ache that much more. “I missed you,” you whimper, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. As much as you want it fully off, not just hanging loose around his elbows, you don’t want him to release you from the bruising hold he’s got you in. This would have to do. 

“Uh-huh,” Kendall answers by fucking into you even harder, his pelvic bone kissing your clit with every thrust, and your nails etching crescents into his biceps. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

His head falls to your shoulder in a brief moment of humility, lips working on your neck, and you feel your release fast approaching. In moments like these, you don’t doubt how he really feels. He gives it all away, tries his best to make it up to you, and it’s so easy to forgive him.  Kendall’s fist wraps around one of the stiletto heels of your shoes, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder and drive his cock deeper into you. He’s perfect, feels perfect, there’s no one else who makes you feel the way he does. When his thumb begins to rub delicate circles around your clit, you’re gone.

Your body tenses up for so long, you actually think you might’ve psyched yourself out. And then everything releases. Kendall coaxes you through your orgasm, deep voice muttering things that are either unintelligible or that you wouldn’t dare to repeat out loud, and you cling to him while your cunt pulses in waves. It lasts for a long time, or at least it feels like it does, he slows just to fuck you through it, so you can both savor how good it feels. That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl. When he tries to kiss you, you oblige, but it’s open-mouthed and sloppy since you’re struggling to breathe and can’t stop whispering his name. 

“Ken, you’re so good, it’s so good–”

You know he likes to be praised just as much as you do. He cuts you off with a deep kiss, moaning into your mouth and vibrating every nerve in your body as he follows you over the edge, spurred on by your own release. He buries his cock inside you as deep as he can, you feel warm and full and complete. 

For what feels like a few minutes, you remain tangled with one another, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the soft puffs of his breathing against your skin, which is now damp.

Eventually, he draws back, kisses your cheek and tucks himself back into his underwear. You pull the straps of your dress back into place and when you push yourself off the counter, realize your legs are trembling and you wobble.

Kendall reaches to steady you. “Go sit down,” he squeezes your arm and you barely manage to stumble to his couch before you’re slumping against the cushions and struggling to unlace the strappy heels you’ve still got on. 

He joins you a moment later, placing a glass of cold water on the coffee table and kneeling to help you out of your shoes. You can only imagine what you must look like, because he looks disheveled, shirt still hanging open, pants unbuttoned, your lipstick still smudged on his cheek. Exhausted as you are, it makes you want him all over again. 

He settles next to you, pulls you to his chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up to whisper softly in his ear. “Ken,” he turns his head slightly, cheek pressed against your forehead. “I love you.” 

From this angle you can only see the corner of his eyes, the way they crinkle as he looks down bashfully, eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks at your admission, words he so rarely has heard before. Words you have vowed to repeat until he believes you – because sometimes you think he doesn’t. Still, he answers. “I love you, too.” You close your eyes a moment, your heart rate returning to normal, and take in one final deep breath. Content. 

“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Kendall says eventually, hands in your hair, tugging gently so you’ll look up at him. 

“Right,” you nod. “Honestly, I don’t know if I even want to go out anymore.”

“But you got all dressed up,” he smirks.

“Look where it got me.”

He laughs. “Uh-huh. You knew what you were doing what you fucking put that shit on.”

You don’t deny it, feeling your cheeks grow warm. It’d be too easy to stay with him, to slide across his lap and kiss him until he takes you again. But your phone dings on the counter, and you know you can’t abandon your friends entirely. You sigh, pulling away from Kendall and looking him in the eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” he encourages. “I’ll wait up for you.”

[scekrex]

There's a chance you've already done this prompt before but it's hard for me to check so if you've already done a fic like this dont worry Abt it! Adam x Male!reader btw.

Maybe a "I wish you were a girl" situation, but more from the readers point of view? Like he knows Adam has ever shown interest in girls, and constantly bitches about his wives. (And only ever flirts with random angels who are girls) So when Reader realizes he has a crush on him, he has doubts and never ever thinks that Adam would ever like him back. (Even tho I'm a firm believer of bi Adam.)

I don't know where to go from there, but maybe the reader figures out he DOES have a chance somehow? That or just straight up hurt/no comfort...

Okay so I don't think I've written this or something similar before and if u have I don't remember so here ya go <3

He likes a girl and I'm not a girl

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you

For a guy who claimed to be a simple man, Adam was quite complicated in your eyes, though that had more to do with his behavior towards you than with anything else. On the outside everything was fine, the two of you were just pals - quite close pals but nothing more.

On the inside however - or specifically on your inside - the knowledge of being ‘just friends’ ate you up like a five star meal. Because how were you supposed to enjoy the beauty of Heaven if a certain brunette kept shattering your heart over and over again? How were you supposed to enjoy the divine afterlife they had promised you when the man you liked kept flirting with girls - girls who only looked half as good as you, girls who were good at sucking his dick and making pretty eyes at him, girls who were whores. You desperately wanted to grab Adam by his shoulders and shake him, you wanted to shake some sense into him, wanted to punch his face and kiss his lips at the same time and while you definitely were able to punch his face without ruining the friendship, you were quite unable to kiss his soft looking and inviting lips without setting the bond the two of you had formed on fire.

Adam was not into guys, he had made that clear over the past thousand years, he was ‘dating’ - more like hooking up with - women and women only and even if the first man would be into men, there was no guarantee that he would be into you. But there wasn’t even the slightest chance for you, Adam wasn’t into men and you - a man - were into Adam. It was doomed to fail, doomed to tear your heart apart over and over again but you refused to leave his side. You cared about the stupid fucker and while it burned to see him happy with women - women who weren’t you and you whow ould never be a woman - you were glad that Adam had found something that brought him joy, even if that meant that you would suffer from the indescribable pain of unrequired love.

A price that sounded so meaningful, so expensive but then you would see Adam’s golden eyes, filled with pride and pure happiness whenever he talked to you about whatever chick he had fucked over the weekend. It was easy to tune his words out and simply watch his facial expressions change, it was so easy to ignore the fact that he was literally telling you about having sex with women you have never met and would never meet. And yet it was so hard.

If only God would have made you a woman, a beautiful one that would be Adam’s type. And while your looks would fit Adam’s type, your gender very much didn’t, oh the price you were willing to pay to be a woman just for one day, just so you could be Adam’s for a single day. But that would not happen, neither of it would. God would not turn you into a woman and you wouldn’t be Adam’s, not for a day and certainly not for longer.

The worst part of it all? Adam’s unintentional yet hurtful comments.

“Y’know,” he had once said after one of his gigs as he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were expecting the first man to tell you which of the women in the crowd he’d invite backstage but instead of doing that he had leaned in close, so close that his hot breath was hitting your cheek. “If you were a chick I’d make you mine in no fucking time, dude.”

If you were a chick.

But you weren’t and as long as that was the case Adam was not interested in you in any other way than being friends. And while you had laughted it off, his words had haunted you for days, fuck they had even followed you in your sleep.

Or another time when you and him had gotten shitfaced during the boys night out. His arm had been around your waist, his other hand was roaming over your body stopping at your chest, squeezing it, “For a dude you have fucking nice tits, man.” The alcohol had been audible in his voice and despite the fact that he was aware that you weren’t one of his girls, he kept touching you.

-

The first man was sitting next to you, your side was pressed flush against his as his arm was resting on the backrest of the couch right behind your head. Confidently he spoke, “So y’know how you’re into dudes?” Now that was straight up the dumbest question the first man had ever asked you and lets just say that he asked quite a lot of stuff. You fake gasped at him, “What, I’m into dudes? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” That earned you a playful smack on the back of your head, turning your shocked expression into an amused grin. “Fuckhead,” the first man mumbled, “I’m being fucking serious here.” You simply shook your head in amusement, not quite sure where this conversation would lead you to - why was Adam suddenly interested in the fact that you liked men? Was he trying to set you up with someone?

“Yeah, why though?” you hummed right before you took a sip of your drink - a thing you regretted only seconds later when Adam said, “Do you know any fuckable dudes?” The sip wasn’t swallowed, instead you spit it out in pure shock.

What did he just say?

[mj-iza-writer]

kinda specific but any opinions or ideas fpr pet whump like this-

Whumpee knows very little english, their first language(s) are far from being similar to english, Whumper speaks to them in english and commands them in english but Whumpee cant understand and it makes them feel even more lkke a dog :3

Sorry this took so long. I really like this idea, and I think I've written into it a couple of times in the past. Thankyou for the request, I hope you enjoy the story.

"Whumpee food", Whumper called from the kitchen, and shook the dish.

Whumpee lifted their head from resting on the floor. They had no idea what the stranger in the kitchen was calling for, but learned the hard way that they needed to come when called.

Whumpee quickly peaked into the kitchen and looked around. They noticed a bowl had been set next to where they were served water.

Something Whumpee thought was a weird custom here.

Whumper looked back and saw that Whumpee was standing.

"Down", they ordered while pointing at the floor.

Whumpee frowned but got down into a crawling stance.

"Good", Whumper nodded, "come here, and sit."

Whumpee winced as they crawled forward, this was beginning to be quite painful.

They seemed so interested in having Whumpee as some sort of pet. They remembered being stuffed into some pet carrier while on a trip with their family to the America's.... now, a few months later, they were here.

Where exactly here was Whumpee had no idea. They remembered a lot of traveling, a lot of being in the trunk of vehicles until they were brought here.

Whumpee knew this person had tried to explain what was going on, and they may have seemed a little frustrated that Whumpee couldn't understand English.

Whumpee inched closer to where the person pointed on the floor. They sat down awkwardly and looked up. They were trying their best to behave. Hoping that would help them possibly get out of the situation. It seemed hopeless to escape sometimes.

Whumpee wouldn't even know where to go, how to do it. Who to go to. This wasn't their home, they had no idea. They couldn't even speak the language.

"Go ahead and eat", Whumper pointed at the bowl.

Whumpee cocked their head to the side with a confused expression.

Whumper sighed, and gently lowered Whumpee's head to the dish.

Whumpee was stiff at first, but understood at last to eat.

Whumper watched as Whumpee crawled past and laid down in front of the big window. Their body turned away from Whumper.

Whumper sighed, "this was already going to be hard for you to get use to. Now it's worse because you have no idea what I'm saying. I don't want to hurt you at all. Besides training, I want you to feel safe here. It's kind of hard to do that when a strange person is speaking gibberish all of the time."

Whumpee had a feeling the strange person was talking about them. They continued to stare out the window though.

Late in the evening Whumper sat on the couch reading a book.

Whumpee took some comfort in the tiny whispers of Whumper reading under their breath.

They wondered if the book was good, they figured it had to be if someone was willingly reading it.

They looked back at Whumper quietly.

Whumper noticed the movement and looked up.

"Yes, are you okay?", Whumper smiled, "do you want to hear some of this?"

Whumpee nervously looked down.

Whumper sighed as they watched.

Finally they decided.

Whumper got up from the couch and walked to Whumpee.

Whumpee got up as well to try to get away from them.

Whumper lowered themself to the floor by where Whumpee was laying and showed them the book.

Whumpee awkwardly looked at the book, then at Whumper, then the book again.

"You can look at it. I know you don't understand it, but....", Whumper sighed, "I know this all so difficult. Wasn't exactly what I was planning when I ordered for a human pet on the dark web. I guess that's karma for this situation."

Whumper clicked their tongue on the rough if their mouth, "I guess we're stuck with each other. I don't know where you're from and how exactly you were brought to me. I can't just take you to the police and tell them I bought you, but need to return you... that would be my one way ticket to jail."

Whumpee was looking over the page that Whumper was showing them.

"You seem pretty interested in this book", Whumper watched, "well I guess you need to learn English first, and maybe it would be good for me to learn some of your language. Though I have no idea what that is."

Whumper watched for a few more minutes before they called it a night.

Whumpee woke up to someone shaking them.

They jumped when they saw Whumper kneeling beside them.

"Come here", Whumper beckoned with a grin.

Whumpee followed cautiously 9nce they figured out what Whumper wanted them to do.

They were led to a computer, and they noticed a map of the world had been pulled up.

Whumper poked the screen a few times.

Whumpee nodded, maybe just maybe they were asking where Whumpee was from.

Whumpee looked at the map for a few seconds before finally backing out of the map, and going on the search bar.

Whumper watched as Whumpee slowly clicked the keys to type in their country.

The look on Whumpee's face was quite humorous. Their tongue stuck out to the side as they concentrated.

Finally something came up that Whumpee seemed to recognize: a country's flag.

Whumpee then tapped the screen.

Whumper clicked on it and the flag was pulled up.

"You're from here", Whumper pointed at Whumpee, then at the screen.

Whumpee quickly nodded. They looked at the screen in excitement.

'Finally something familiar to me', Whumpee thought to themself as they scrolled the information.

Whumper seemed to understand and let them look for a few minutes. They could see that familiar images had brought relief to Whumpee. Tears flooded down Whumpee's cheeks.

Whumper had noticed some videos and took control of the computer to click on it.

The video started to talk in English, then said something in a foreign language.

Whumpee excitedly leaned closer to the computer after hearing it.

"Ah, so that's how you feel listening to me", Whumper smirked.

Whumpee said something in their language.

It sounded sad to Whumper.

Whumper decided to look into it. Within a few days some boxes were delivered to the house.

Whumpee shyly watched from the window as Whumper sat down.

Whumper patted the floor next to them to see if Whumpee would come over.

Whumpee had grown a little more comfortable with the stranger. They seemed not to want to harm them to much. Really punishments only came during training.

Whumper also found an app that could translate somewhat well for them.

Whumpee had a little more of an understanding of what was happening. They didn't like this idea of being a pet, but figured they were stuck now. At least until they managed to make a run for it.

Whumper opened one of the boxes and pulled out a few items. They unwrapped one of the items.

Whumpee's eyes went wide as they saw it.

A small version of their country's flag.

Whumper grinned as they handed it to Whumpee.

Whumpee cuddled it close, then saw Whumper pull out a stuffed toy with their flags colors.

Whumpee cuddled them close and lightly sobbed.

Another box was opened.

Whumper pulled out a few books.

"English and your language dictionary. How to teach English to your language. Your language for idiots... that's for me", Whumper chuckled, "I wanted you to learn English, but maybe a few special commands in your language would be fun. Just don't laugh if I say it wrong."

Whumper opened the dictionary and turned to a random word and said it loud.

Whumpee looked up in surprise.

"Oh you like that do you?", Whumper chuckled, "now what exactly did I say", Whumper looked at the book again.

"Oh, that's the word for fruit... cool. You like fruit so that's helpful', Whumper grinned.

They turned the book to the English section and handed it to Whumpee, "now you try."

Whumpee took a little more time deciding on what they wanted to say. They studied the definitions carefully. It felt good to read in their own language.

"Sto...stolen", Whumpee whispered.

Whumper's heart sank, of course that was the word they'd select.

Whumper took the book away and turned to the word adopted.

Whumpee looked at the word that Whumper pointed at.

Whumpee shook their head in disagreement.

"Alright we're done with that for a little while", Whumper sighed.

The last box Whumper opened also had a few books.

Whumpee looked them over as Whumper handed them.

They looked excitedly at one.

"Oh, that one caught your interest", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee looked up, then eyed the dictionary.

Whumper handed the book over and watched Whumpee glim through the pages. They found one page and pointed to a word for Whumper.

"Favorite?", Whumper said it out loud.

Whumpee nodded and took the book back and started to scroll the pages.

They held another word up for Whumper.

"Childhood", Whumper nodded, "oh this was a favorite of yours during childhood. It was one of the popular ones I found.

For the rest of the day Whumper scrolled the books on learning the language and teaching English. Whumpee happily layer on the floor beside them looking at the books and saying random English words they had found in the dictionary.

Whumper chuckled at a few of the words.

Whumper vowed that day that Whumpee would have to learn some English and they would have to learn some of Whumpee's language. Their was no other way around it,  and it was only fair to the both of them.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

@isikedmyself878

[fanaticsnail]

I shared this w/ deerling before she’d deactivated. I’m sososo happy for her! she will always be loved n missed! But, I never got to hear her thoughts! And I thought you might humor it too!

I’m not sure if you’re familiar w/ the song Imitadora by Romeo Santos? A week or so ago I was hyper-fixated on it n it made me think about law. Growing up when the Donquixote pirates would have galas and such celebrations, would he watch Rosi dance w/ partners and just praying on his downfall? He needed something, some type of material to tease & embarrass Rosi w/ to get his lick back. But honestly? the only thing he picked up from observing Rosi dance was the way he danced.

I’m not very familiar w/ the correct type of dance that should be associated w/ this song, and anyone please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong! But the most common one I’d found was bachata, which originated in the Dominican Republic. I know you’d already written something in your series for Bachata, but just hear me out!

Law, after watching Rosi dance during celebrations when he was younger, would have to had learn something and picked up the basics at the very least. Now, I raise you this food for thought. Would Law be a good partner? Would he be rusty? Or maybe just outright refuse and dismiss it? Would he be embarrassed? Or would nostalgia wash over him when you offer, take him by the hand and pull him towards the floor? A bit more willing w/ alcohol in his system. Hand on the small of your back, one knee slotted between your thighs your palm falling to the nape of his neck n fingers threaded through the soft wisps of baby hair a bit before his nape n finally falling into the music. Now! Would he experiment w/ all of the fancy dips and twirls he’d remember Rosi do? I like to think he’s more seasoned n cocky even going as far as trying something on the fly!

Sorry for the ramble! I love your writing andhope to see your thoughts if you humor this!!

-🪼

Hello my love! I have so many thoughts and fics written and coming up for this particular concept. I love the thoughts, 🪼 Anon!

1. Donquixote Rosinante can dance.

This man can absolutely dance. He dances Flamenco, Tango, Salsa, Bachata, Conga, Rumba, Cha Cha: anything that involves hips swinging, feathers flying, legs intertwining, and passion igniting. This is the only time he is absolutely not clumsy. He was also taught the marines waltz while in basic. Donquixote Doflamingo, however, can not. He thought it was a waste of time.

2. Imitadora Romeo Santos

I am not familiar with the song, but now that I've listened to it on repeat a few times, Rosinante dances Bachata to this song. Hips flush against yours, one hand on your lower back while the other is expanded to the side in the hopes you'd take it to spin. Always with a smile on his face, twirling between the rapid brush of drums on the snare, tapping his feet while dragging his toes. He loves it, and makes it known my whispering the lyrics without vocalising them.

3. Bachata

I love Bachata. When my host-sister came back to my country for a visit, she took us all out dancing Bachata on the beach - something that I would love to take up on the regular. It's sultry, romantic, playful, everything you want wrapped in one dance. I see Luffy, Ace and Sabo dancing Bachata - and Rosinante also excels at it.

4. Law and Dancing

Growing up in Flevance, Law's cultural dances would be something similar to the folk dances in Austria and Germany. There is no way he wouldn't grow up learning these dances with Lami. Watching his parents engage in social events, letting loose with their colleagues, some of his happier memories would be watching them in the warmth of each other's embrace and slowly swaying to a waltz. Hearing a 3/4 rhythm beat on the den-den shoots him back to that moment: his parents love for one another swelling his heart and having him yearn for a fragment of the past.

5. Rosinante and Law Dancing

Law would gruffly pout in the corner at these social events, far before Rosinante had bothered to pay him any mind. He hated the events, especially when Doflamingo ordered him to dance with Baby 5 as "an aspect of his training". Once they opened up to one another, baring Corazon's secret mission with the marines, Law paid far more attention to his guardian protector. Watching in earnest as he demonstrated his skills by engaging with partners.

6. Law past the time skip

This man wants to dance. He would never admit it to anyone, but he wants the opportunity to keep a part of his heritage alive and pass on the knowledge of his cultural dances to anyone willing to listen. After Dressrosa, he is far less pent up and full of wrath, and wants to express it through dance. He is so rusty, he forgets a few of the steps, and will need reminding.

7. Law and Sanji

Sanji knows some of these cultural dances. When the Supanova trio catch up and engage in social drinking, firstly: the Victoria Punk crew demonstrate some of their highland jigs, and teach them to Luffy. Luffy, in turn, teaches Killer how to Bachata. Given how large he is in comparison to Luffy - he would opt to teach "Traffy" in response. Law knows these dances, has seen these dances with Corazon, and actually enjoys relearning how to do this dance.

And to repay Luffy, he would offer to teach him a dance from Flevance.

Given how long it's been, he forgets a few steps and slips up with the spins: finding the follow position rather than the lead. With how poorly he seems to remember the steps, Sanji lets out a huff of exasperated cigarettes and opts to "cut in" for Luffy: immediately takes the lead position, and guides Law through the steps flawlessly. Law would become extremely overwhelmed and quite emotional afterwards, having to excuse himself as he takes a moment to remember what was lost to him. After paying his respects to his parents, Lami, and Corazon's memory - he would return and witness Franky attempting to impress Robin with a dance fit for the Cossacks.

8. Dancing with you

After the event with Sanji, you would go and ask the foreign captain if he was feeling alright. You, being the councilor and negotiator for the Straw Hats. Waving away your worries with a flick of his tattooed hand, the music would change into a reminder of the Bachata earlier. Offering to pay you back for checking in on him, he would lead you into a dance immigrating Luffy's earlier twirls and sways.

Demonstrating a particular motion Luffy didn't teach, a twirl that had your back to his chest, hips pressed flush against your ass, and knee slotted between your thighs in the same way Rosinante would catches your breath in your throat.

Feeling a little more bold with his control, he wouldn't let you leave the floor until he was completely satisfied with the way you moved with him. Having cheers from Luffy, and taunts from Kid, would spur him on to keep you in his arms and hum to the music. He remembers his friend, he remembers his parents, he remembers his sister, and he remembers his past through dance.

He also remembers how to flirt. And he enjoys making you blush while he's so close to you. Eyes half-lidded, lips spurring soft praise, speaking his native tongue with a combination of Corazon's to have you squeak out a "thank you" with a hot flush igniting your face.

9. Further notes

I am incredibly grateful you shared these thoughts with deerling. She was such a joy to this fandom and I'm so glad she found her happiness. I have no idea how long this has been in my ask box, considering it had been not working properly for quite a while. Thank you for blessing me with some dance headcanons for the favorites. I love the thoughts, and I hope you enjoy my take on them!

10. I know this isn't a fic, but I thought I'd tag you just in case you wanted to see.

@mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Apr 12th

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1. For the ficfinder: In the last "In the mood for", no 8 reminded me of a fic but I cant recall the one. Wwx is travelling by himself, writing letters to LZ, he stays in a town and it ends up cursed. LZ and the juniors arrive to solve the case. Wwx is acting weird and hides his letters. The juniors read the letters and find out wwx is angry and full of resentment about how he's been treated. They find out the curse resonates from him. They talk it out to resolve matters. It was written really well. Any idea? @kesterling

FOUND! i found it myself, it kept bugging me. The fic is sadly deleted but on the wayback machine: Dock of the Bay by Haysel.

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2. Hi! This is for Fic Finder. All I remember is the ending, where Yu Ziyuan had her arms cut off, and that there was a part that mentioned that this was punishment enough as she would have to live her life with no pride. Also, she had an affair with Jin Guangshan, and Jiang Cheng was his child, and she had to become his concubine, I think. Hope someone knows which fic this is!

FOUND? sounds like the deleted "OOC!" by A_flower_in_the_snow. It's avaiable on the wayback machine.

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3. Hi, once again.

I’m looking for a fic that I seriously can’t find, at all.

So it would really be a great help if you could.

Wwx was brought to cloud recesses for healing after madam yu had whipped him so bloody he couldn’t move and wa sin active danger of dying.

The disciples who brought him there did so on a donkey I think?

Anyway they asked LZ to please befriend Wwx.

The healers weren’t sure if Wwx would survive. He does.

And joins the lan, befriending LZ oh and he can’t fight with his sword anymore because of the damage and something about his heart having been weakened.

That is all I remember.

Have a nice day/night. @ravenwithwings

NOT FOUND!🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

FOUND! 🧡 Company by WithBroomBefore (T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, POV LWJ, Fix-It, Pre-Canon, at least to start, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, But Not In The Usual Way, fear of character death, Everybody Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Light Angst, good teacher LQR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, brief discussion of past minor character suicide, Kitten, Not YZY Friendly)

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4. Hi!! I'm looking for a fic I can't remember the name of, a modern AU, possibly set in the UK where lwj is part of some sort of anarchist/ community activist group and wwx joins. Most people in the group already know wwx and are reallly good friends with him but lwj is super skeptical about him. Also at some point I think wwx goes missing and lwj is super worried??? I can't remember anything else... thank you in advance🙏🙏🙏 @kavlobebeki

FOUND? now to begin the road by detectorist (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pining, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Getting Together, Light Angst, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Activism, Politics, Rooftop Conversations)

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5. Hi, I'm wondering if anyone else remembers a fic similar to leading tone by silencemostofall, and pastel by antebunny, but that's set in the canon era while they're at Cloud Recesses? A few details I remember was that the coloured mark that indicated Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's relationship started to fade, and that Jiang Cheng was allowed home to celebrate his birthday, while Wei Wuxian's was completely ignored by the Jiang Sect and so he spent it drinking and was caught by Lan Wangji. Apologies that I don't have more! @flaxenhairedsamurai

Hi, I was number 5 on the fic finder on April 12. Just letting you know I found the fic I was looking for! It was Mark Me With Your Devotion by an orphan account. Thank you, and I've bookmarked it so I don't lose it again!

FOUND! Mark me with your devotion by orphan_account (M, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, soulmate AU with a twist, The twist is not a curse though, I'm sorry but everyone is kind of toxic in this, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, A-Yuan is adorable, First Time, Canon-typical Sex, Cultivation Partners, Fluffy wangxian, Nothing else is all that fluffy, Night-hunting together, Their studies are different that's why they keep going on missions and not staying in Gusu much)

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6. There was this fic on ao3 I don't remember, much, but it had this part, where lwj refused to go near his child(/children??) Because when wwx was pregnant he slowly grew ill or I dunno I think there was some complications (?) and when it was finally the time of delivery, wwx fell into coma I think. And lxc was angry with lwj for not even looking at his child / children when both wc were so excited for the baby.

There is a similar wx comic on Twitter. Can you please find both of them? The ao3 fic and the Twitter comic too please?

FOUND? I don’t know the Ao3 but I do know the comic similar to the description which made by AlasseTassir in twitter and they post it on their pixiv.

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7. A while back I found and lost 😥 a fic where WangXian, I think, were smuggling Wen Ning (and probably Wen Qing) across a border somewhere and they put a fake mustache on one of the two and people kept complimenting them on how nice it looked. I think people even copied the mustache after that? Maybe even the bad Wens? That's literally all I can remember about it. I've tried every tag I can think of and haven't been able to find it. Hopefully someone will know. TIA! @lilyinthesnow

FOUND! Bloom where you are planted by luckymoonly (M, 44k wangxian, MM/WQ, Canon Divergence, Fix It, courting, Mpreg, Sunshot Campaign, Fluff, Happy Ending, getting together early, Romance, WWX giving birth in the middle of the war? Most likely than you think!, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, Smut, Drama, Blood and Violence, Minor Character Death, There Is Only One Bed, No Fall of Lotus Pier, Crossdressing, Shotgun Wedding, Mention of miscarriage (not WWX), wangxian Have a Breeding Kink, Giving Birth, Soft granduncle LQR)

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8. hii i need help finding a fic. I remember it is ongoing it is a time travel one where wei ying travels back to the past decides not to join the jiang sect but to be rouge i remember he stole gold from the sects which made the economy go to shit the emperor got involved and disbanded the wen sect wei ying is now rich he is studying to pass some exams he has a nice house with a mini farm meets lan zhan and they fall in love and we find out from lan qiren that wei ying is a royal bc his father was a prince but he ran away to be a servant to the jiang sect and sometime near the last chapters the emperor gives permission to wangxian to marry and to take with him some princes and princesses to raise away from the palace. @wangxian4evermdzs

FOUND? Starting Over by SplitGirl28 (M, 69k, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Back to Childhood, Change his life, Different lifestyle, But WWX is still gifted genius, Unrestrained WWX, Living his ideal life)

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9. Hi all! 👋 I am so sorry to bother you if you’ve already found this fic but I’ve scoured across the internet all day and decided to go ahead and ask anyway! I’m looking for a fic that has Wei Ying being adopted into the Lan clan as a child, he was scared to be kicked out and became rather solemn and a perfect lan clan member, on the other hand Lan Zhan has grown to be shameless and flirts with Wei Ying every chance he gets. There’s also some Jiang Bashing, OCs, and maybe some time travel? Help🥹

FOUND? could be the deleted "Uno Reverse" by A_flower_in_the_snow. It's on the wayback machine.

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10. Hello!! I swear I just read it and now I can't find this fic- but it's supposed to be an AU where wwx stayed behind during Lotus Pier's attack and Madam Yu and JC escaped but wwx stayed to fight, and lwj heard wwx was missing and he rushes to help wwx and he runs in JC and JY also trying to save wwx? Thank you in advance!

FOUND? for as long as he will let me by RavenclawLoki (T, 8k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Love Confessions, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, First Kiss, BAMF JYL, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

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11. Hi, thanks so much for all your efforts!!

I’ve been looking for a fic and hope it hasn’t been deleted. Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli were mermaids but were also semi-amphibious? They could go on land for short periods and they helped fight the Wens during the Sunshot Campaign. Wei Ying is married off to Lan Zhan and he lives in the Cloud Recesses. Most of the story is centered around Wei Ying adjusting to his life on the surface amongst humans and navigating the relationship with his new husband.

FOUND? you’re a bird in the water / i’m a fish on the ground by plonk (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Merpeople, Canon Era)

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12. Hi, can you help me find a fic . The story goes somewhat like Lan Wangji was in a nighthunt and had taken shelter in an inn . There was a storm, and Wei Ying came to that inn seeking shelter with a few orphan kids . Those kids and Wei Ying were both from the same, and they escaped from being sold ? I think Wangji was a bit older than Wei Ying. Also, Wei Ying could use his cultivation powers without any medium like swords or instruments. 🙏

FOUND? ❤️ Seen and not heard by eatmyass (E, 51k, wangxian, case fic, no sunshot, kid fic, dadxian, strangers to lovers, found family, LWJ pov, pining, fake/pretend relationship, first time, falling in love)

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13. Helppp! looking for a fic I read awhile ago and it just wont leave my mind, So basically Wangxian had an age gap LWJ was like 16 or 17 and WWX in his 20's but like "the cloud recesses" is some sort of mansion and the lotus siblings visit them in cloud recesses. I think it was tagged E if that helps

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14. Hi! For Fic Finder. Thank you very much for your help. There’s a fic I thought I bookmarked but can no longer find.

The first fic is a dark Lans fic set during the Cloud Recesses arc. WWX and JC are betrothed in this universe. But LWJ and WWX fall in love. LWJ manipulates the environment and JCs insecurities to break them up. I believe it’s in a two part series.

Thank you!

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15. Story of Yanxi Palace based fic. WY is the empress/consort who hides in a box from Sizhui. LZ knows he's inside the box, and as a prank/punishment, he uses the box to play a boardgames with Sizhui

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16. Hi! I really am looking for this story in AO3 and still can't find it. It was about Wei Wuxian who got married to Wen Chao but Lan Zhan couldn't take it so he plans to take Wei Wuxian back by claiming Wei Wuxian each time he got (even in the wedding night of WWX and WC) and destroying the company of the Wens. As they (LWJ & WWX) continued the deed, WWX ended up pregnant and LWJ is more than determined to take WWX back. I do hope you can help me find this story. Thank you in advance!😘 @gegegeeee

FOUND? 姻緣 | this marriage was always predestinedby saccharinings (E, 43k, wangxian, Cheating, Infidelity, not between wangxian, WWX is married and LWJ persuades him to cheat on his husband with him, Dark LWJ, A/B/O, Feminizing Language, Exhibitionism, Size Difference, WagnXian Have a Breeding Kink, Stomach Bulge, Possessive LWJ, Manipulation, WWX Wears Lingerie, Rape/Non-con Elements, for one part, Hair-pulling Kink, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mirror Sex, Vibrators, Phone Sex, Rimming, Edgeplay, slight choking kink, Light Bondage, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, LJY’s Big Fat Crush on Milfxian, Pregnant WWX, WangXian Endgame, Spanish Translation)

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17. I'm looking for this fic that's basically a bunch of drabbles in one. Each chapter title is one word and serves as the theme for that chapter. I remember it having quite a lot of chapters, but I only remember one titled "kneeling" where Wuxian kneeled before Wangji (if you need a better picture, imagine that one scene in CQL where Wuxian kneeled and put his head on Yanli's lap in that one episode) @mindaneacc

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18. Hey, I'm looking for a fic where LZ and WY are already married and living in Gusu. But they get separated from each other due to an illness/curse going through the Wen Sect, so LZ leaves to give medical aid. In the process, he ends up adopting Wen Yuan. There is a sweet connection between WY and Lan Qiren. But most importantly Wen Qing managed to assassinate Wen Ruohan. @mother-of-pigeons

I remember 18, though I can't find it either. The sickness/curse in question made people burn from the inside; it was contagious from breathing in the ashes of the people dying. There was a honestly touching scene with Wen Chao dying while Wen Ning kept him company. Wen Qing assassinated WRH because she was treating him for the illness, for which they'd finally found the cure, and he announced that he therefore would use it as a weapon against the other sects, by deliberately infecting them and holding the cure hostage. The only ones they'd allow to have the cure are the Lans, because they're the only ones who came to help. He also intended to marry WQ, as he'd lost both his sons and needed new ones. I think it might have been part of a series, with the first part showing how WangXian got together.

FOUND!🔒Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by Titans_R_Us (T, 11k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Mutual Pining, Temporary Separation, BAMF WQ)

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19. Hello!! Here I am again looking for a wangxian fic. It's one that I read through here but never found again, anyway, the things I remember from the fic are: the sects transform into animals, being shapeshifters, the Lan are dragons like WWX, I also remember that the transfer of core occurred but the core has a mind of its own and it goes back to WWX's body, WWX faints and Wanji makes a soulmate connection... Those are the only things I remember!!

Note: I think Ao3 should have category filtering in our subscriptions, because I think I subscribed to the story but I already looked and couldn't find it... @sweettiebah

FOUND? sounds like "Revealed Truths Against Dragon's Fire" by Preludian_Staves. It's hidden on AO3 but avaiable on the waback machine.

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20. Hi! I'm looking for a fic with a red string of fate au where wwx jumps off the cliff, but has a moment of weakness when he looks at lwj and end up tying himself to lwj before dying... And when he wakes up he discovers lwj kept the string bc when he wakes up as mxy he can see it connecting him to lwj. He flees and tries to put as much distance as he can between them but lwj still finds him at dafan mountain... It's a multi chapter (I think) with a happy ending. Help please? 🥺

FOUND? 💖 a trail of blood to find your way back home by blackelement7 (T, 19k, wangxian, JC & WWX, what if a soulmate string au, but without the soulmates aspect of it, a reflection on the nature of marriage, WWX is full of regrets, so is LWJ, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, JC & WWX Reconciliation, JC is trying his best but words are hard and his brother is stupid, Siblings, Canonical Character Death, but it’s just WWX, accidental 3zun feels, WWX as the most unreliable of narrators)

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