#sugar from the uncanny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idyllcy · 5 months

Text

i've never had somebody, so I don't know how to love

word count: 8.45k

warnings: children (idk), smut, reader has a kid?, fem reader, spoilers

summary: "I shall come back for you." "I shall wait."

Jinshi swears he just wanted a bite. One bite.

He just wanted a taste. That was all. It's called chocolate, Maomao had told him. He was supposed to save a little for you to taste when he got back to your chambers, but he supposes he ate too much, because by the time he arrives in your room, he's warm and flushed, and the only thing on his mind is folding you in half on the mattress. His poor mind.

"My love! Welcome back." You grin, opening your arms for him as he sinks into your touch. His skin is flush against yours as he mumbles something, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he lets his hands roam. You squirm under his touch as you try and ask him about his day.

"Maomao made me chocolate," He whispers, tugging at the string around your garment. "When I asked her for an aphrodisiac..."

"Mhm?" You hum, running your hand through his hair to pull off the hair tie. "Why would you need one?"

"I felt bad," He bites your collarbone, sucking gently as he slides the dress down your body. "I have not been paying attention to you all that much these days."

"I told you it was fine, and that I would be fine by myself." You tilt your head back for him to kiss up your neck.

He doesn't answer, hand crawling to the back of your head and kissing you instead. You lean back to comply, tilting your head as you taste the chocolate on his lips, humming in content as his tongue explores your mouth and you get to taste the sugar. You whimper as his fingers brush your bare chest, the fabric pooling around your hips as he fondles your boobs, lips still slotted against yours as you moan into his mouth, mind fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. You whimper when he pulls away to pull his own robes, skin pale under the moonlight as your eyes drink in the color of his skin and the curves of his muscles.

"Staring?"

"Mhm." You mumble. "You are beautiful, my love."

"As are you, beloved." He takes your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles delicately and turning over to your palm to swipe at it with his tongue, eyes locked on yours as he hums. "I may touch you, yes?"

"Yes." You whisper. "Of course."

He goes back to your skin, lips pressed to the plush of your chest as he bites and such, fingers digging into your waist as he holds you still, the chill of the winter night brushing against your back as you squirm from his touch. You wonder how much longer he will pretend to still like you and convince himself that he needs you. Though, as his lashes flutter against your skin as he pulls from your chest with a pop, you feel it's not too far away.

Each time he sleeps with you, there is less love in his hands than before.

This time, he only holds you like this because of the chocolate presented by the maid, and it makes your heart sour when he stares up at you, eyes sick with affection, affection that you're sure would dry out for you one day— affection that haunts your life an uncanny amount. Yet, you sink into his touch as he kneels to slide the rest of the fabric off of you, parting your legs to slide a finger in and pleasure you, lips latched to your clit as it was with your nipple, and you gasp sharply, a ghost of a moan slipping past your lips.

You wonder if he's going to do this with Maomao one day—

You whimper as he slides a second finger into you with ease, mind fuzzy and empty as you glance down at Jinshi, tears blurring your vision as he fucks you on his fingers with practiced precision, quickly sending you into a blurry high, mind fuzzy as you clench around his fingers with your first orgasm of the night. Though, it isn't enough for him, his fingers still sliding in and out of you, even when your eyes blur over and tears fall from the lack of time you get to breathe. His name breaks past your lips in shattered syllables, tears staining the silk of the pillow as you stare down at him, lips puffy and cheeks red.

Jinshi shushes you instead, pressing a kiss to your clit as one of his hands holds your thighs open, the bottom of his chin wet with your slick, and he hums gently, vibrations brushing against your clit as you jolt. The combination with his fingers becomes too much, and you cream around his fingers again, splashing his face with your cum as he laps at it, eyes half-lidded as he does. He stays there until you're whimpering for him to leave you be, tears in the corner of your eyes. He licks the cum off his fingers as he reaches to wipe your tears, leaning forward to kiss them away as your bottom lip quivers.

"Jinshi, my love." You whimper as he lifts one of your legs to rest the ankle on his shoulder.

"Yes, beloved?"

"Please don't leave in the morning." You whisper, arching your back and closing your eyes as he fits himself into you slowly. He's such a good stretch. It makes you sad to think that he would leave you one day. He waits for you to adjust, hand warm on your thigh as you whimper, shifting your hips to adjust to his size. You let a breath out when it doesn't burn, and Jinshi takes it as a sign to start moving, the roll of his hips deliberate to nudge your sweet spots that have you seeing stars, and you hold a strand of his hair between your fingers as he leans forward, dark hair caging the two of you in as you gasp with each thrust, heart hammering in your chest and making you ditzy. You cry his name in broken sobs, a mix of overstimulation and your own heartbreak making the tears indistinguishable to you.

He reaches to wipe your tears as he makes love to you, concern all over his face, and the flush on his cheeks just tears your heart to pieces. He's only here because he had the chocolate. He doesn't visit you during the day anymore, and he only ever comes when he needs to borrow your wisdom— something he doesn't need anymore. something he has Maomao for now. The thought shatters your heart as it twists and turns in your stomach, the tears becoming too much for you to process as your mind blurs over and you let Jinshi do whatever with you. Maybe that would be your last use to him. To be a shell of what you used to be and let him do whatever with you. Maybe that would be replaced one day as well.

One day, you wouldn't even be worth dirt to him.

The thought makes your mind spin as your rationality slips, and you don't notice the way Jinshi slows down to check on you, fingers brushing your cheek as he legs your leg down. You press your hips flush against his, shaking your head as he pries for why you are crying. It is a worthless reason— it is a hopeless case. You quietly beg him to continue, hoping he would let you keep it to yourself.

"Beloved, I can't do that." He reaches to brush your hair to the side as you flinch, and you stare into his eyes as he stares down at you with the same pain in his eyes, and it kills you. He shouldn't look at you like this. You shouldn't be capable of hurting him. You reach to smoothen out the wrinkle on his skin, mumbling about how he would get wrinkles, and he leans into your touch, eyes glossing over with the same kind of hurt that was all over your face when he was missing. His voice strains as he begs you to tell him. To be honest.

"I can fix it." He chokes out.

"Don't leave in the morning." You whisper.

"You know I can't do that." He breaks.

"Then I can't tell you." You crumble. "If you'd like to stop, then you may—"

His hands fly down to hold your waist down into the bed, eyes wide out of some fear, some fear that you would despise him somehow.

"You have to give me time."

"I've given you almost a month. We've been distant for ages." You cry. "Hurry up and fulfill your marital duties so I can give you a son and you can leave me for the one you really want."

"I don't want her!"

"You don't show that!" You sob. "Just..." You sink into the bed, blinking to get the tears out. "may the heavens let us have a son so you can move on."

"I don't want to move on." He whispers, tears falling on your bare skin as he refuses to look you in the eye. "I love you. You are my beloved. The sun and moon may break and shatter, and the winds could blow in the wrong direction, but it could not stop my love for you. Why do you insist I will leave you?"

You go quiet, turning your head to the side as he gets frustrated.

"Fine. You've always been this way anyway." He picks up the pace again, giving you no time to breathe between his thrusts, and you gasp and throw your head back as he uses you like you wanted him to. It frustrates him to end that you just refused to talk to him, but who was he to ask? Who was he to ask you whether or not you would be honest with him? The most emotion you had ever shown was when he bedded you anyway. Why does it matter what you do? The love you had been so adamant to show when you first got married had gone stale anyway.

Jinshi lets you cum one last time before flooding you with his own seed, bent over your body, his hair imitating bars to cage you in as he hangs his head to catch his breath. You, you, you. You, his first love. You, the love of his life. You, the very wife that he had sworn he would cherish. You who refused to marry into a higher level family and had chosen. You who had gone distant because he had... it was his fault, huh? His issue. He had neglected to spend time with you since the arrival of Maomao. No wonder you were so sad.

He pulls out of you and covers you in a blanket, fetching a maid to help you wash off as he redresses himself.

"Will you... stay?" The maid is the one to ask, and Jinshi shakes his head.

"I must clear something up. Let the madam know I will stay next time."

The next nine months pass in a blur. You bear a son to Jinshi, handing him off to the wet nurse, and you move to another residence in the name of recuperating. Jinshi doesn't pay you a visit once. You wonder if it's because he is busy with palace affairs, but you do not touch upon it. You request the emperor to send you to another residence after recuperation without letting Jinshi know, and the old man lets you go. He knows. The whole palace knows. You have become nothing more than a mockery since your husband flounders around with some new maiden he found, and you are let go. You promise your child will serve the emperor well one day with the care of the maids. The emperor laughs and tells you to focus on yourself.

Thus, your son becomes playmates with the young princess, and you disappear from the records of the imperial palace.

The life the emperor had bestowed upon you is restful and serene. The spring residence is quiet and calm with the other concubines, and you are treated as the empress mother would be. There are no conspiracies and you sit down to enjoy tea with all the ladies, quickly forgetting the life you had to bear before. The maids write to you regarding your son under an alias, and you learn that his first word is neither mother nor father, but grandfather. You smile sadly at the letters each time you receive them, and you are never once paid a visit to your residence.

You wonder if you should have taken your son with you in another life.

Maybe in another life, Jinshi had continued to treasure you.

Then, he comes to visit, and you watch from the street as he carries your son with Maomao, getting asked if the young boy was theirs. You observe to see what kind of an answer he has for the kind merchant. You don't know what force compels you to listen, but you do, going quiet as you stare at the apple in your hand. You shouldn't care, but considering the way Jinshi was carrying your son, he must have learned a lot from the maids.

"Ah, she is not my wife." Jinshi's voice resembles silk as always. "My wife is in recuperation after having our son. Childbirth had taken a toll on her."

You have never been so glad that your son had resembled Jinshi so much.

You pull the veil over your head further, and you slip the woman a copper wen, rushing off with the apples you picked. You pass behind Jinshi with haste, wondering if he would recognize your perfume or such. It doesn't bother you. It shouldn't bother you. You had erased all signs of your existence from the palace forever, so even if he were to recognize the scent, he could simply think it of a maid from the spring residence. It didn't matter. It was years, so even if—

A gust of wind blows your hair as the veil is knocked off, and your son calls.

"Niang!"

You make a run for it.

The palace maids had been showing him the art of you. Of course they had. There was no way that you could have forgotten what they wrote to you. Your heart races in your chest as you make it into the palace walls, and you hide from the footsteps that have been chasing after you. Your heart burns in your chest as you catch your breath, eyes wide as you try your best to remain silent to stay still, and you watch as a maid asks what Jinshi is doing on the residence's grounds with your son. He apologizes and lies that his son had wandered off into the court, and you let a breath out when you no longer hear footsteps. You don't want to face him. You can't. You refuse to.

"So? What was that about? Miss?" The maid raises a brow at your figure between the residence buildings.

"Uh..." You smile awkwardly. "Expect to never see me again. Let's pack up and m—"

"I thought it was you." Jinshi speaks up from behind you, and you turn to look away.

"I am afraid I do not know you, kind sir." You turn to face the maid, nodding.

"Beloved." His voice goes weak. "I understand if you wish not to see me, but at least look at our son."

You stop, not moving.

"I won't... do anything. I promise."

You grimace, setting the bitterness in your chest as you open your arms for your son, eyes weary and tired as look at him. You refuse to look up at Jinshi. You refuse to look at the man who had ruined your life and thrown you away during your pregnancy. Yet, you look at your son, a copy of the man you had loved, and you unconsciously put yourself on the verge of tears.

"No frown." Your son reaches for the furrows between your brows. "Niang, smile."

You muster up a sad smile for him, heart crumbling and crinkling in your chest. It feels like paper. The guilt you had so desperately tucked away in your heart shatters you in the worst of ways, and you smile at your son, holding his head to your chest as you carry him off. Jinshi follows behind you, neither of you speaking up as your son falls asleep on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you walk around the residence.

"Where are you staying?" You speak up, stopping to stare at Jinshi.

For the first time in forever, Jinshi gets to stare into your eyes again, and his heart crumbles and cracks as he holds his demeanor, trying his best to pretend that it would be fine. You left him because of his own shortcomings. He has no right to beg for you to return without showing that he had improved as a person. So, he stares into your eyes instead, letting the silence pass as he opens his mouth to speak. Right. You... probably moved on and no longer cared for him. The emperor had granted the two of you to live separately, after all.

"The resting quarters in the city center." He stares into your eyes as he talks, hoping you could see the affection in his eyes that he had refused to let go of.

You stare back at him, eyes cold as the winter snow— it hurts him in a way, but he supposes it was deserved for leaving you all alone. You open your mouth to speak, but your son wakes in your arms, blinking slowly as he shifts to stare at you.

"Niang?" Your son wipes his eyes.

"Would you like to go home with diedie?" You ask your son, hand on the back of his head. He's much heavier than when you first had him, but it makes no difference to you. Your son is your son. The day you pass away is the day you would no longer hold him in your arms.

"Will niang go missing again if I do?"

"You have such a big vocabulary." You praise, lips curled into a smile as you press a kiss to his forehead. "Niang has to stay here. Niang promised yeye to stay here."

Jinshi opens his arms for your son, and he clings onto you instead, pouting. "Then I stay with niang."

"What about Maomao auntie?" You hum, raising a brow at him.

"Mm, I like niang better." He clings onto the fabric around your chest, and you give in.

"You will have to return to yeye with diedie when diedie leaves, though." You stroke his hair. "Alright?"

"What if diedie never leaves?"

Your eyes trail to Jinshi, eyes hardening as you warn him not to stay. "That won't happen, er."

"What if you come back with diedie?"

Some sort of weird hope blooms in Jinshi's chest at your son's words. Maybe your son could convince you.

"That would mean breaking yeye's promise, so no to that as well." You press a kiss to his forehead. "Shall we get you rested?"

He nods, leaning back onto your chest, and you wave for a maid.

"Prepare a room for my guests as well." You nod. "Eunuch Jinshi, please let Maomao know to stay at the spring residence for the duration of your stay."

"I thought you hated her."

"I hate you, not her." You turn to stare at him.

"And me?" He points at himself, pout on his lips.

"Prepare a room in the north." You hum.

"...Are you cursing me with feng shui?"

You stick your tongue out at him.

"And for the young one in your arms?" The maid inquires, peering at the eerie similarity between Jinshi and the boy.

"He shall stay with me."

The maid understands, escorting Jinshi away as you continue about your evening with your son, setting him on your bed as you sit next to him to continue embroidering. At night, when you are sure he is resting, you get out of your room, requesting the maids for some rice wine, and you settle in your garden, staring at the stars as you drink. You blink slowly, trying to recall what constellations were visible to the naked eye. You don't remember. Maybe the liquor is getting to you.

"Drinking?" Jinshi stands next to you as you lay on the ground, and you raise a brow at him.

"You shouldn't be allowed here." You hum. "I'll call the guard—"

"Wait." He holds a hand over your mouth, holding you down, and you lick his palm. "Don't scream."

You stare at him as he removes his hand, and you open your mouth to scream before he holds his hand over your mouth again, eyes wide.

"Don't."

"Depends what you want to do to me."

"Nothing bad." He whispers. "I just want to talk. I promise."

You let him remove his hand and sit up, offering him a drink. He goes quiet, drinking it in one sip as he frowns. You sit in the silence, only the wind to whisper your worries, and you don't bother reacting. Perhaps he just needed a drink and wanted to use talking as an excuse.

He finally speaks up, voice wavering.

"Why did you leave?"

"Why wouldn't I? I gave you a son, didn't I?"

"No, why did you..." He hides his face in his hands. "You didn't tell me."

"You didn't come to see me once during my pregnancy. What courtesy did I owe you?" You click your tongue uncomfortably.

"I had Maomao prescribe you medicine to keep the baby healthy—"

"You did not come see me. Maomao is not you." You stare at him. "And you can not expect to make it up by taking care of our son. It is your paternal duty to spend time with your own blood. So if you expect—"

"I don't." He mumbles. "I don't expect you to come back to me because I'm forming a bond with our son. I thought maybe... you would come back if our son asked you to."

"I promised your father I would not step foot back into the imperial palace."

"I will bring you back and bear the blame." He whispers. "As long as you come back to me."

"Not happening." You stand up. "Feel free to finish the rest of the mijiu."

"Belo—"

You don't let him finish, walking off.

You are not his beloved anymore. You are his partner-in-law, but you are not his beloved. You are the woman he left behind at her weakest and caused to spiral. You are the woman who supposedly mattered to him enough to wed you, but not enough to stay with you after the introduction of someone new. You are not his beloved simply because that was not how one treats their beloved.

You wake up the next morning to your son out of bed and dressed with Jinshi in the room. You raise a brow at him, questioning what he was doing in your room, but he points at your son, who had been on the ground playing with the toys the maids had prepared. You blink at him, smiling when he tells you good morning sweetly. Jinshi smiles gently at the way you smile at your son, and he continues playing, a smile on his face.

"So? Did the court ladies find out?"

"What?"

"That you can have kids."

"They think he's child that the emperor took in." Jinshi mumbles. "Of course, the palace maids assume I am called diedie because I took him in as soon as I found out, not because he is my son."

"Perhaps they believe he looks like you so the heavens assigned you as his father. Do they know I am the mother?"

"No. The palace maids who assisted with your birth were all executed per the emperor's orders."

"Ah." You hum. "How old is he this year?"

"Five. Do you not know your own son's name?" Jinshi stares down at you almost pitifully.

You turn to stare at Jinshi. "I named him. Of course I do."

"Why do you not call him by name?"

"Jingui." You hum, reaching your hand out for your son as he smiles.

"Yes, niang?" He holds your finger in his free hand.

"Did the maids tell you niang named you?"

"After luxury." He smiles, hugging you. "I love you, niang."

"I love you too, er." You mumble, squeezing him. "Niang's sorry I couldn't watch you grow up."

"It's okay," He whispers back. "Guigui is glad niang is here now."

You let him play again, eyes on him as Jinshi continues staring at you.

"What do you want?"

"Return to the imperial court with me."

"I'd rather die." You grumble. "I promised Agong that I would not return in exchange for residence here. I was a laughingstock there. I do not wish to return."

"You will not be. We can—"

"It doesn't matter." You hum. "You are Gui's father. I am not his mother."

"You are his mother."

"In birth." You stand up, Jinshi catching you as you stumble. You thank him with a nod, continuing. "He only needs his capable father."

"And his mother." Jinshi insists, not letting go of your wrist. "He needs his mother. The maids can not replace you for all of his life, especially since he has met you now."

"He does not need me. He may want me, but he does not need me." You hum. "He is capable of existing without his mother."

"That is not true." Jinshi slides his fingers down to your palm, hurt all over his face. "He needs you. Both he and I need you."

You shake your hand free from his. "Then you should have shown your need earlier."

Jinshi fiddles with his fingers, pout on his lips as you raise a brow incredulously at him. You ignore it, calling for a maid instead to change into the day's garments.

"Do you need—"

"I will stab you." You warn. "Out."

"What about our son? Jingui, don't you want your diedie to stay with you?"

Jingui blinks at Jinshi, and he looks at you before standing up and dusting off his robes, taking Jinshi's hand as he leads him outside of the room.

"The maids said not to watch a woman get dressed to respect her privacy." Jingui waves at you as he steps outside of the room, and you laugh at Jinshi's baffled expression. You stick your tongue out at him, lips curled into a smile as the door shuts.

He looks betrayed.

You wonder what kind of parenting the maids did to end up with Jinshi, but you don't ask. You let the maids dress you for the day, and you yawn as you step out of the room, ruffling Jingui's hair as you walk off. He trails behind you, holding your hand as

"Are you not going out with me?"

"Back to work." You hum. "I manage the estate now, you know? Lotssss of paperwork."

"Like diedie?"

"Kind of." You hum. "Diedie does more than niang, though."

"If you leave, does that mean you will have no more work?" He looks up at you.

"I can't do that. You will have to have yeye send someone else to manage the estate." You hum, pulling the doors to your study open. "Bring some snacks."

The maids nod.

"Oh, and you." You point at Jinshi. "Out."

He feigns offense, raising a brow. "What did I do?"

You open your mouth to start listing, and he grumbles. "I get it."

You smile. "Don't you have errands to run with Maomao?"

"She's looking for medicine."

"You should help her out." You hum. "The wilderness out here is quite scary. You wouldn't want someone to hurt her."

Jinshi hangs his head as he steps out of the room.

The day passes without fret, and you watch as the sun sets and you wash up for bed, the heat in the bath gentle against your skin as you take a bath by yourself. Jinshi stays with Jingui to help him wash up, and you tell the servants to stay out of the bath while you wash up. Jinshi leaves first with Jingui, and you leave last, nodding at the servants as they all rush in to wash up.

"I wanna go with niang." Jingui reaches for you as you carry him, lips curled upward.

"Hear that?"

"But diedie spends so much more time with you!" He feigns hurt.

"Exactly!" Jingui sticks his tongue out, and you laugh, cheeks warm. "I have to leave niang soon!"

"I'll take you to bed with niang." You smile. "Hear that, Jinshi? He's niang's boy."

Jinshi pouts, faking annoyance.

You tuck Jingui in for bed first, looking over a book as you stroke his hair, and a branch snaps outside of your window as your hand flies to the sword on the wall.

You whistle for the hawk to yell, sliding out one of the swords for decoration as you hold your weight against the intruder, and you watch as his eyes dart to your son. He disregards you as he aims for Jingui, and you slide your blade to his stomach, kicking him. He lands on the ground with a thud, and you hold your sword above his neck, forcing him down. Your weight isn't enough, and he throws you off of him as you throw your sword at him. It's not sharp enough. It won't cut him.

You throw yourself at him instead, his blade grazing your face as your hands wrap around his throat, your hair a mess as it falls around him, and you hold down until his face turns purple and he no longer thrashes against your grip.

At this point, you expect the maids to rush in. Instead, the first one to come is Jinshi, his thumb brushing the wound on your face as he checks your body in panic.

"Beloved, are you alright?"

"Jingui is fine." You hum, trying to pull your face from his hands.

He tightens his grip instead, staring into your eyes. "You. You're hurt."

"It's fine." You try again as the maids rush in, and you have the guards pull him to the prison. Jinshi doesn't move once, hands still on your face, only trailing down to your shoulders when you crane your neck to talk to the guards and maids.

"Will you be alright, madam?"

"I'll be fine. It's no—"

"Bring me ointment." He tells the maid. "At least let me do that much for you."

The maid looks at you for confirmation, and you nod.

"Get off of me." You push him gently, standing up as he lands on his butt. "Pretending to be worried now? You didn't bother when we were still married."

"We are married." Jinshi whispers, getting up to hold your face in his hands again. "Come on. Let me treat the wound before it turns into a scar."

"Wouldn't that be better? Then I would be uglier." You tilt your head as he takes the ointment from the maid. His fingers brush over your cheek as he leans in to take a look at you properly, and you look to the side as he applies the ointment. Now that you look at it, his face is awfully close to yours. You take note of the blush on his face as he does, and his fingers are cool against your cheek as he applies the medicine. You don't give him a reaction, and he sighs.

"Beloved, you will never be ugly to me." He mumbles, leaning in further, breath mixing with yours, and you stare at him through your lashes, wondering if he would do something.

"Diedie, are you kissing niang?"

You pull away from Jinshi abruptly, and Jinshi looks to the side, face red.

"You're awake?" You get up to hold Jingui, and he rubs his eyes.

"Niang, are you hurt?"

"It was just an intruder. No worries, er." You smile. Jingui reaches for your cheek, trying to touch the wound as Jinshi holds his wrist gently.

"Mommy has medicine on. You're going to rub it off." He hums, taking Jingui from your arms instead. "Die will hold you instead."

"Can we sleep together?"

Jinshi freezes up, blinking at you as you freeze up too, blinking slowly at Jingui.

"Can we?" He pouts.

"I'll keep watch." Jinshi nods. "Maybe another time. Niang is still mad at Diedie."

"You can rest with diedie for the night. Niang has to clean up after the mess." You hum, kissing his cheek. "Niang will go find you in the morning."

"I can clean up." Jinshi frowns.

"It'll be fine." You hum. "The heavenly emperor assigned me to this residence, so I shall fulfill his will."

"He is my father. He would not mind if I were to help my own wife—"

"There's no need." You smile firmly. "Keep your hands clean of my dirt."

You shut the door behind you as you follow the maids to your office, and Jinshi presses his lips to your son's head, resting your son's head on his shoulder as he hums.

"Um, Sir." One of the maids whispers. "If I may... the mistress has a bed in her office. Perhaps the boy could rest there?"

"You think so?" He chuckles. "I'll keep watch for the night. Please lead me there."

He wanders through the residence, the red poles dark in the night, even with the lanterns lit. The floor is crafted of white, and the intricacies of stone along the pillars are dusted gold, and he wonders how much of it had been brought back to life by you. It eats him alive, even with your son in his arms, he wonders if you had worked out to be able to carry your son one day, even if he were too old to be carried.

The stars twinkle in the distance, and he lets himself smile.

"Mistress? May the child borrow your bed?"

"Meimei," You grumble. "I thought I told you to check on them, not bring them to me."

"The boy missed you."

You sigh. "Come in."

"I shall guard." Jinshi nods.

"You may rest as well." You hum. "I shall be heading to the prison tomorrow. I just need to send the hawk."

Jinshi watches as you attach the note to the hawk, and he gets up to hold your face again. "Why not leave Jingui to Meimei? I'll fetch Maomao to see if there's a better ointment for your face to prevent scarring."

"I told you, I am not bothered by such trivial matters."

"It matters to me." He mumbles. "Tomorrow."

"I must interrogate the criminal tomorrow."

"Then right now."

"You do not dare to wake her up for something so minuscule." You glare at him. "Rest with Xiaogui today. I shall call for the two of you tomorrow after dealing with the assassin."

"You must rest well." Jinshi mumbles, kissing your forehead gently. "Please."

You grimace at the kiss. "Very well."

You interrogate the assassin in the morning, sighing when he reveals the target was your son. It must have been a jealous consort or something. You wonder if she thought he would be next in line for the throne since the emperor let the boy call him Grandpa. The consort is some low-ranking one in the main palace, and you don't bother sparing him any mercy, telling the guards to kill him and send his head as a warning. That ought to teach her.

"The eunuch and boy are looking for you."

"Send them to my tea room. I'll see them there."

"Mistress, would you like a change of clothes?" Another maid asks.

"No need." You mumble. "It's fine to go like this."

"What tea shall I prepare?"

"Honey ginger." You hum. "And some cookies for the child."

They nod as you open the door to the room.

"Niang!" Jingui runs up to hug you, and you hum.

"Did you sleep well?"

He nods. You let Jinshi carry him as you work on the papers, and you speak up after Jingui gets drowsy. Perhaps he had been living in a life of assassinations and you were not aware. It would make you feel most awful if he was.

"Are they common?"

Jinshi raises a brow.

"The assassins."

Jinshi shakes his head. "Not in the imperial palace. The emperor has the most security for him compared to anyone."

"I see." You mumble. "How about Maomao? Surely people try poisoning her because she is close to you?"

"She is immune to poisons."

"Right." Your lips quirk up. "I'll send her with a gift this time. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

Jinshi raises a brow, significantly worried. "Not a poison, right?"

"No promises." You grin.

Jinshi spends the rest of his time trying to spend more time with you and your son, desperation practically reeking off his skin as he sticks to you like a lost puppy without an owner, and the maids start gossiping with you about the potential marriage partner. You snort, telling them that there was no reason he would want a woman who had been used before. You avoid telling them the truth out of an unknown fear. You don't know what stops you. Perhaps you are still worried that he loves Maomao and is only doing this for his blood. Maybe he isn't being honest with you.

It takes a week for him to get to visit you at night, and another week for him to be allowed in your chambers. Maomao reminds him that he can only spare a week here per the emperor's orders, but he pays no mind. He is sure that the heavenly emperor would not mind him spending more time with you. He's sure the old man knew it. After all, he had given him a knowing smile when he had told him to travel with his son and Maomao. It made him feel as though the emperor were up to something. Perhaps he had known Jinshi would see you here.

It is the third week that he had stayed past his welcome when he sits down for a drink with you.

"Play with me." He holds the board with him. "I miss playing wuziqi with you."

"Hm. What do I get if I win?" You reach for the white, placing it down in the center.

"Whatever you want."

"I haven't played in a long time." You hum. "Your turn."

"May we have a heart to heart talk?"

"Be my guest." You hum.

"Why did you leave?"

"You took an interest in Maomao." You hum, placing another bead down. "And I ran away before you could divorce me."

"I did not wish to divorce you." He frowns.

"The whole palace was talking about it, and the emperor did not stop me, so I decided to leave." You shrug.

"I took Maomao in because I wished that she would prescribe some medicine for fertility."

"We had a son, no?"

"We did, but I had been taking medicine prior to that prescribed by her."

"You wanted her for her wisdom just like you wanted me for mine." You hum. "It was a fear, or maybe I just saw myself in her. She is my age, after all."

"Our age." Jinshi reminds. "We are all the same age."

"I suppose." You shrug. "But it felt like I was replaced."

"You were not."

"There was no way to confirm. Not when you had been trying to shove honey down her throat, anyway." You hum. "Four."

He clicks his tongue, stopping you. "What do I get if I win?"

"I suppose you get to bed me." You mumble. "Assuming you haven't bedded Maomao."

"I have not." He clenches his jaw. "I have not touched another woman in years. I am not as so much of a degenerate as to bed women who are not my wife."

"Who knows." You hum. "Four."

"I am not able to bed women there, anyway. After all, I am an eunuch."

"Except I heard Maomao found out you were not one."

"Ah." He freezes up, stopping your newly formed row of four. "That much was an accident. I suppose I saw fragments of you in her."

"Perhaps you had just found her beautiful." You hum. "I most certainly did. She is quite smart, drawing freckles on her face to hide her radiance."

"I found her beautiful, but only because she had reminded me of the plum blossoms on the day I met you." He smiles. "I win."

"What would you like?"

"Let me bed you, please." He whispers. "My wife. My beloved. Let me bed you."

"You must be desperate for some touch." You take off your outer robe, letting the maids know to retire for the night. "Very well."

"You may say no." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours, eyes genuine as he looks at you. "I am not forcing you."

"I don't care if you are using me for your own pleasure." You mumble. "I have not been bedded in the same amount of time."

"Heavens, that burns me more than it should." He wastes no time in undressing, lips pressed to yours as he leads you to the bed, caging your body in as he leans over you, a leg pressed between yours, lips moving against yours messily as his yearning crashes into your body like a wave, his hands tugging at your robes desperately, freeing your skin from the silk and fabric, lips latching to your collarbone to suck, biting all to desperately, rutting into you as he were some rabid dog, his body craving yours as though you were some drug he could not live without.

His fingers slip past your folds as he had done before all the times he had slept with you, bone of his wrist brushing your clit as he slides a finger in with ease, his mouth moving up to your neck, sucking gently as he listens to the way your breath hitches and you whimper when his fingers brush your sweet spot, and he continues, fingers pressing hard as you squeak, sucking you as he pants, desperate to remember your scent for the next handful of months he would no longer be able to see you during. When you quiver around his fingers and flutter, he slides his fingers out, licking them as he pushes you onto the bed, lining himself up, staring down at you for one last promise of consent.

"We can stop." He whispers.

"No."

And that's all Jinshi needs.

Jinshi presses your hips down into the mattress, hips moving against yours as he fucks you, desperation all over his fingers, lips attached to your neck as he sucks, his own breathy ragged as he spends his own stamina satisfying you, passion bleeding past his fingers as his body consumes you, desperate to make up the lost time with you from before. At this point, he disregards how many passing maids will hear his own moans, too focused on the way your skin felt between his fingers and too focused on the way your head was thrown back in a bliss he hadn't seen you wear before.

He wondered how many years you went without being bedded.

Well, not that it mattered. He had probably gone the same amount of time without bedding someone. How could he? The guilt would have eaten him alive from the inside out. So, he channels all his lost years into you instead, groaning when you cum around him again, eyes teary and cheeks puffy, your lips red from his kissing earlier. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your words become incoherent, slurred as he moves a hand down to play with your clit. You squeal as he does, squirming under his touch as he continues to hold you down.

"I love you." He whispers, tears in the corner of his eyes as you can barely hear him.

"I love you." He repeats, with his chest this time, tears splattering onto your chest as he whimpers.

"I love you so much." He gasps as his thumb speeds up on your clit, making you gasp sharply at his confession, your head spinning.

You gush around him again as he finally feels himself reach a high, heart racing against his ribcage as he groans, crashing into you as he pumps you full, resting his head on your collar as you both catch your breaths, and Jinshi feels himself get hard in you again, his shoulders tensing as he does. He can't. He's going to break you, and you're never going to talk to him ever again. He's going to ruin you like he did years ago, and the universe is going to punish him by taking you away again—

"More." You whimper. "Until you've had your fill."

"I'm going to break you." He whispers.

"I'm sure Jingui wouldn't mind having a sibling..." You whisper back.

Jinshi's pupils dilate as he starts again, and you yelp as he goes without warning, a mix of your cum and his making a squelch with each thrust of his. It's lewd. It sounds like the most sinful thing in the world, yet Jinshi thinks of it as music to his ears, all too focused on pleasing you and getting rid of his pent-up lust, your body finally under his as he's waited all these years. He thinks of it as some kind of blessing, to be able to consume your sense as wholly as he used to, only this time sure that you weren't crying because of something he did. He still had lots of making up to do for you, but he supposes this is a start.

You gush around him another time, crying over how it hurt, but still no safe word. He laughs something between a chuckle and scorn, thrilled at the way that you looked like that under him. The maids had been whispering about how you had never bedded anyone once despite your status as supposedly single in the residence, and it made his head spin with possessiveness at the thought that you had still been loyal despite how much he hurt you. He would make it up, he promised. He would stay until the morning this time, and you would get to wake up in his arms like you used to.

The thought makes his hips stutter into yours as you're flooded with warmth a second time, your moan depraved as you feel him fill you again, the white from the sex staining the sheets and your thighs, and you both catch your breath this time, and Jinshi rests his forehead on yours, heavy breaths slipping past his lips as he stares into your eyes, hand moving to brush the hair from your face as you stare at him through glassy eyes.

"I'll be here when you wake up." He whispers. "I'll be here in the morning."

You close your eyes, nodding to the best of your ability.

"I'll kill you if you aren't."

He laughs, rolling over to rest on his back, fingers intertwined with yours as he rolls to his side to look at you.

"You're sticky." You grimace.

"And?" He hums. "So are you."

"We need a bath." You grumble. "I should call a maid to clean me up."

"That will be tomorrow's problem, beloved." He hums, lips curling upward. "Lay with me, my dear."

"If you insist, my love."

You help Maomao and Jinshi pack up their things to go, sending small gifts for the journey with them, and you laugh when Maomao thanks you profusely for the fritillaria unibracteata, and you wave it off as nothing big, a smile on your lips. She promises you that she'll owe you one the next time you need something from her, and you chuckle as she gets onto the carriage with Jingui. Your son gives you one last kiss before getting on as well, and only Jinshi stays behind and refuses to let you go, brushing his thumb over your knuckles as he talks to you.

"Will you... return?"

You shake your head, lips curled into a smile. "Unless you would like to stay?"

"Would you let me?"

"No. I would let Jingui stay, though." You smile at your son peeking at you through the window.

"You would met Jingui stay?" He gasps.

"Yeye would not be happy." Jinshi reminds. "We will return to pick niang up, alright?"

"I will tell yeye to let you come with Jingui next time." Your son stares into your eyes, eerily serious, and you smile.

"Tell yeye I said hi."

Jingui motions for you to come over instead, pressing his lips to your cheek through the window as you laugh, lips curled into a smile as you give him one back. He giggles, reaching his hand out the window to hold yours, and Jinshi shakes his head at his son. He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, making Maomao gag in the carriage. He takes your other hand and presses your knuckles to his lips, a smile on his face as he hums against them.

"I shall return for you."

"I shall be waiting."

Jinshi lets go of your fingers, not without one more kiss to your lips, lifting his sleeve to hide the two of you from your son and Maomao as he does. You roll your eyes once he pulls away, and you nod at them as they leave. You stay in place until the carriage is long gone, and you hum, heading back to work with the maids to manage the estate.

When spring comes the next year, the wound on your cheek is gone, a golden carriage arrives, and you laugh as Jingui jumps out of it into your arms, much bigger, smile much brighter. Jinshi steps out next, offering you a hand to pull you up as he introduces the new manager of the estate. Maomao grins at you, whispering about the trade, and you let her know there are farms upon farms of medicine in the land, only for her to grin cheekily at you. You suppose she has her much wanted freedom now.

"Shall we go?" Jinshi offers his hand to help you up as Jingui holds his hand out for you on the carriage, and you smile.

"We shall."

And finally, you are home.

#jinshi x reader #apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries x reader #jinshi #GUHHH #reader insert #it's almost 2 weh #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto x reader #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto #bro this was supposed to be about chocolate why did it end up like this HOW DID WE. GET HERE #☾.nsfw #☾.fics

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beababoobies · 3 months

Note

Hey there you said you needed a Hazbin Hotel request? I got just the thing. Is it okay you do a Alastor x witch reader? Like reader was a witch before she died and is basically pretty powerful especially in magic? I like to think she covers up her body because she’s covered in tattoos that look like magic ruins or ritual symbols. Idk i just thought it would be cute of Alastor falling in love with a classy yet a badass witch who can put him in his place.

Heya Anon! Yes, Absolutely! I love my witchy friends (shoutout to Tatianna because she follows my blog.) I wasn’t sure exactly on which type of Witch you were referring to, so I decided on a random mix of diff witch cultures! Please shoot me a request if that’s not what you had in mind and I can re-write this for you. Thanks a ton for the request!

From Experience

Alastor x Fem!Witch!Reader

words : 1k , no warnings!

You let out a sigh as you started the spell you had been planning for weeks now. You had to go to Lust to get aphrodisiac rose powder, cannibal town to get the dried blood (and have a coffee and chat with Rosie, of course.) you even attended to Blood Moon festival very shortly to get some black tree root straight from the source from your friend Sally Mae. The candles had been lit - your spirit guides told you it was ready. You closed your eyes softly as you started to read out the incantation in your head.

You sighed softly through your nose as you felt yourself slowly start to float, the bone-marrow candles you had bought starting to glow a blood red colour as you felt the power of the spell start to wash over you, the magical ruins carved into your body lighting up, making you glow softly, and it was all coming together nicely, perfectly one might say -

“Hello, Darling!”

You let out a small scream and opened your eyes, falling to the floor with a small thud, groaning as you open your eyes to the familiar face smiling back at you, chuckling softly as you rub your head gently, rolling your eyes. Not an evil spirit. Okay, an evil spirit. But a very familiar one. “Alastor, what a surprise.” You said as he walked over to you, offering you his hand and you took it, hoisting yourself up and letting out a soft sigh as you saw the spilt wax across the floor.

“How rude of me to interrupt you! Allow me.” He hums softly, and you watch as the candles are returned back to their original state, turning back to him with a smile, brushing your now messed hair back into place, tilting your head. “Back again so soon?” You said with a chuckle, walking into your kitchen to get a cup of tea, him following quickly behind.

Now that you thought about it - he was back very, very soon. You had last seen him yesterday for lunch, and just two days before that for an evening stroll. After seven years of absence, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t even seen him this much before he disappeared. This meant he either needed something, or he was playing you in a big plan.

“Oh, well you just make the best steaming cup of chamomile, my dear.” He compliments, sitting at your small window-side table. You chuckled, taking a spoonful of the mix you had taken years to perfect, crushing the leaves, adding in just a bit of cinnamon. You had even figured out the best tea bags. Possibly your best spell ever. You dismissed your worries as your own overthinking, sighing as you poured the boiling water into the mugs.

“No sugar for you again?” You say, eyes not looking back at him as you pull the cane sugar out from your cabinet, spooning a couple helpings into your mug. “You know me too well, darling.” He says and you blush softly, putting the cane sugar back, bringing both the mugs to the table, placing one in front of him, and one in front of yourself.

“So, why are you back so quickly, hmm?” You said teasingly, leaning back in your chair, mixing the tea in your mug lazily, toying with the spoon as you watching him dip the boiling liquid - always uncanny, how he could do that - before looking back up at you.

“One could say I’ve taken a bit of a liking to you, my love.” He says with a smile, and you feel your face get hot - from more than just the steam from your tea. He chuckles softly at your reaction, taking another sip from his mug, leaning back in his chair and watching you try to find the right words. Platonically? It’s hard to decipher a man who’s walked out of a couple decades before your time.

“One might even say you… like me?” You say, testing the waters as you discard your cup back onto the table, crossing your arms over your chest, skepticism all over your expression causing Alastor to let out another chuckle. “One could say that. But I hate that way of saying it.” He responds flatly, putting his mug down as well, tilting his head at you. Trying to read a man who’s face was always carved into that sharp-toothed grin was hard.

“While we are speaking of taking a liking to things.” He says, holding out his hand, a small jar of black sand from the burning desert - one of a kind, unbelievably expensive, and your eyes widened. You swallowed thickly as you eyes the small vial, looking up at him with a small grin.

“I’m not giving you my soul for this. Tempting, though.” You said with a playful smile, watching him place it delicately on the table. “Oh, no, darling, it is yours for the price of this cup of tea. A friend gave it to me in exchange for a… favor.” He says with a small chuckle, watching you pick up the vial cautiously and inspect it, turning it upside down and watching the pitch black sand move around in the glass.

Oh, the things you could do with this.

“And why should I take your murder sand?” You say with a smile, looking back up at him as you toyed with vial carefully, raising your eyebrows, watching his eyes trail down to the vial and then back up to you.

“Well, I’ve heard it’s good for love spells.” He hums softly, taking another nonchalant sip of his tea, watching you nearly cough on your own spit over the statement, collecting yourself before piercing your lips together, eyes going from him to the vial over and over.

“And how would you know this, hmm? You some sort of ritual expert now?” You said with a playful smile and tone, clutching the vial in your hand and leaning forward, chin resting on your palm.

“Let’s just say I can speak from experience.”

#hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin #hellaverse #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you

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shy-urban-hobbit · 8 months

Text

"I'm telling you Geralt, my songs are definitely working."

"A few contracts not skimping on payment isn't proof Jaskier. It's coincidence." Geralt replied as he stuffed his newly purchased supplies into Roach's saddlebag. After two years, he didn't need to look to know the bard was probably doing his uncanny impression of a landed trout. His default expression when he thought himself gravely offended.

"Oh hoho. So it's proof you want? Fine, I'll get you proof you old cynic - wait, I'm here calling you old, how old are you? I know Witchers age differently but it's all so contradictory. I remember one text claiming you aged backwards. Backwards!"

Geralt was blessedly distracted from Jaskier's tangent by a small tug on his cloak causing him to look behind him and then down.

A small, tear stained face with huge, liquid brown eyes looked up at him. The hand that wasn't clutching Geralt's cloak fisted in the skirt of a green dress as she shuffled her small, booted feet. Witcher and child stared at one another and even Jaskier had fallen silent.

"Are you the White Wolf?" She asked in a small voice.

Geralt could only nod in response, keeping an eye and both ears out for angry adults about to accuse him of kidnapping.

"I can't find my Papa." She sniffled, voice trembling and eyes welling up.

He felt himself slip into Witcher mode, trying to think what could be snatching people from a crowded town in the middle of the day, "What do you mean you can't find him, has he gone missing or-"

"Sweetheart, do you mean you got separated from your Papa in the market?" Jaskier gently interjected before Geralt could start fully interrogating her. The girl gave a small nod, turning her attention to the bard now kneeling in the dirt next to her.

Geralt felt his face heat up. Right. Just a lost child. That was also a possible (and the most logical) explanation.

"It's ok, we'll help you find him. Won't we Geralt?" Jaskier's tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

It turned out that Jaskier's idea of helping was having the girl perch on Geralt's shoulders and scan the top of the crowd for her father while he stood playing silly little dittys to keep her from crying again. Geralt holding onto her shins lightly and trying to ignore the mess being made on his cloak by muddy feet.

"I see him! Papa! Papa!"

Geralt tightened his grip slightly as her weight shifted with her frantic waving. Waiting until he was clearly making his way over to them before setting her gently back on the ground.

"Mika! Oh thank the God's." He turned his attention to the two men, his eyes widened as he took Geralt in fully.

"You're-"

"Hmmm."

Geralt tried to hide his surprise as the man grasped his hand in a firm if slightly clammy grip. "My thanks Wolf. I swear, if I went home without her my wife would make sure I shared the same fate as that Hag from the song of yours." He said, smiling awkwardly at his own attempt at humour, "Come on Mika, say goodbye. Oh, here."

He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. Geralt could smell warm sugar as he handed it over. "It's not much, but I don't know a single person who doesn't like cake. I could do with cutting down myself." He said, patting his own slight paunch before taking his daughters hand with a final "Thank you." Mika turning back to give a wave which they both returned before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

"What?" Geralt asked as they left the town. The bard hadn't stopped grinning at him like the cat who'd got the canary.

"Nothing. It just, the timing and everything. Seems Destiny agreed with me for once. The songs are making a difference."

"Hmm." Geralt fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh don't give me that." Jaskier said, swatting Geralt in the side as he unwrapped the package Mika's father had given them, "You saw as well as I did there were plenty of town guards around but she went to you. She wanted you. Oooh, maybe this would be good for a new song. The Gentle Wolf! Yes I- hey! "

"No cake for you until you stop." Geralt stated, popping a piece into his own mouth to hide his smile.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #jaskier/geralt #witcher geralt #geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher jaskier #jaskier

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snailpaste · 17 days

Note

Can i get some McSugarDaddy Crocodile headcannons but reader actually has feelings for croco? ive been thinking about this a little too much lately

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile x GN!Reader

CONTENT: Crocodile x GN! Reader, SFW, kind of mutual pining

AN: This isn't what i wanted but if I didn’t post it now I think it’d just go to the great fic graveyard in my drive (30 and counting) sorry for the wait ;-;

You’d caught crocodile’s eye at one of the many Gala’s he hosted (after all, charity was always a brilliant way for him to further his influence, to make connections and gain power), where he’d struck up conversation with you after asking to share a drink. It had gone well, and by the time the event had drawn to an end he’d given you his den den number and offered to pay for your taxi home.

Crocodile wasn’t one to chase after people, much more content to work on furthering himself or his many business enterprises. He simply didn’t need to – there were enough many men and women willing to fling themselves at him should he ever be in need of company – which is why he found it so strange that, not but two days after meeting you at a Gala, here he was, den-den pulled closer towards him on his desk than usual, eyes flickering to it every so often as he worked through the growing heap of paperwork.

rest under cut ->

If anyone were to ask why, not they would ever question him, he’d simply tell them he was waiting on an important business call, rather than hoping for a stranger, who’s laugh he unfortunately hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, to call.

Your arrangement started as “purely transactional,” in the words of Crocodile.

He didn’t expect sexual favours (at least, to begin with) but simply wanted your company at events, a presence beside him to help gnaw away at the tedious meetings and public appearances he endured in the name of business. You’d wake up with a voice message on your den den, telling you to be ready at 7, with details scarce aside from to check your mailbox, inside which was a new outfit fitting for whatever event he saw fit to bring you to. Over time as he learned more about you, they became more and more tailored to your tastes.

He kept things distant at the start. His touches were modest, an arm around your waist or shoulder, a hand guiding you at the small of your back, but nothing more. You found yourself begging to crave his touch, leaning into the warmth of his palm or wrapping your own around his arm.

His conversations, while interesting, never betrayed any of his true emotions, and he opted to leave you with cash rather than buying anything else for you specifically. Gradually, you began to hope might actually start to open up to you. What did he look like unguarded? How did he look when he was at peace

As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing accustomed to his presence, the initial intimidation and curiosity replaced by a quiet comfort. Crocodile listens to whatever you have to say intently, eyes never leaving your face, always asking the right questions and relishing in the way you blush when he leans closer to you, blowing cigar smoke out the window and brushing your hair out of your face.

While Crocodile isn’t out of touch with his feelings, he does prefer to ignore them. He immediately noticed how you changed towards him, leaning your head into his hand when he cupped your cheek and laughing a little bit more openly, and sneaking looks when you thought he didn’t notice – he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart feel just a little warmer.

Your dates, as you unknowingly began to phrase them much to his amusement, became far more frequent, with him using anything as an excuse to be around you for longer. Crocodile, it seemed, had an uncanny ability to understand your desires. He took you to places and events you’d been wanting to go to without you asking, such as art galleries, cosy bookstores and grand libraries, or bookings at theatres or cinemas.

Crocodile encourages you to pursue any and all of your interests- there’s nothing he admires more than when you go off on a tangent about something you’re passionate about, or your dedication. With him, money isn’t an issue, he’ll happily pay whatever fees you might need to achieve.

Your relationship progressed from you being a pretty thing draped off of his arm, another way for him to flaunt his wealth and power, to something more personal. He surprised you with a visit to something you’d mentioned excitedly to him weeks ago, booked the wing of a restaurant you fancied for just the two of you, and invited you with him to the opening evening of an exclusive art exhibition of his favourite movement.

It was only when he caught himself thinking about you with a smile while smoking his evening cigar, that crocodile decided to address how he felt– whatever it was.

After a long night that left you nodding off and leaning against him, crocodile opted to take you back to his house. He’d carried you up to a guest room with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, placing you down in the bed and mumbling a soft good-night into your hair. It was then that, in your half-asleep stupor, you accidentally confessed your feelings, clinging sleepily to his shoulders and mumbling for him to stay with you. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but he felt his heart skip a beat, and allowed you to cuddle against his chest until you fell asleep.

The following morning he told you plainly and simply, wanting to cut the tension that ran thick as you drank him out of the corner of your eye (and how could you not, with normally slicked back hair in loose waves, ringed hands sliding you a coffee across the island, his bare chest peeking through his dark brocade dressing gown) that he was interested in you, interested in a relationship more than this.

After this, he begins to open up- lets you run your hands through his hair from behind, and stay at his house as often as you’d like. His laughs become lighter and more genuine, and you find he has a dimple in his left cheek whenever he smiles just so.

He still buys you gifts and treats you, but now they’re far more intimate, and more tailored to your tastes than ever. He takes you with him on his business trips around the globe, letting you soak in the sun or encouraging you to explore the attractions while he attends to business.

He surprises you with gifts delivered directly to your house, a box of your favourite treats, each delicately wrapped in coloured paper, a potted plant he collected from your shared trip to alabasta, or something he saw you looking at or considering buying with his own note attached. Another time, he appeared at your doorstep with an assortment of flowers, (he’s very into “classic courting”) each flower was one he picked carefully to reflect a message to you.

His love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he craves physical touch and, as you find, becomes quite clingy when he’s tired. He loves sharing baths with you, holding you to his chest and relaxing in the warm bubbles, and on his one day of rest per week, lazing around in bed with you during the early morning hours.

The time he realised he was well and truly in love with you was when you were sitting in his lap, his arm looped around your waist and hand smoothing over your cheek, as you had reached up to trace your fingertips over his raised scar. He’d felt his heart jump into his throat at the feeling, realising he’d never allow anyone else to touch him there, and when you smiled at the light dusting to his cheeks, he realised he was well and truly fucked.

#snailpaste: moots #snailpaste: inbox #snailpaste: writing #op:crocodile #crocodile x gn reader #crocodile x gender neutral reader #one piece x gn reader #one piece x gender neutral reader #crocodile x reader #one piece x reader

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backwzzds · 10 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ princess & the frog, trafalgar law

law would do anything to make his little princess happy

thinking about baby daddy!law who’s spending the day at home with his precious girl while you went out with your girls for the night. law constantly worked as a medical student while you stayed home with baby lea, but this time you convinced him to take the day off so you can finally go out.

the hot summer july sun practically shoved its heat inside the house as the AC did nearly nothing to keep the atmosphere chilled. law remained shirtless for the morning as baby lea only sat in a cute shirt, diaper freshly changed.

the little girl rested her head of unruly curls on her father’s tatted chest as she sucked on her sippy cup full of porridge (you were caribbean, there was no way your baby wasn’t gonna grow up eating porridge for breakfast) and watching her favorite movie, the princess and the frog. occasionally, she’d used her small tiny finger to trace over the dark skin of law’s ink.

even he sat with his eyes fully invested in the disney movie, and he couldn’t help but think about you and him as parallels to the beautiful story. it was interesting the way your lives played out. you two’ve known each other since teenagers, been through undergrad together and now here you were, engaged and the mother of his child.

it’s a bit…uncanny to say that lea was completely planned—far from it—but you both where only 20 and 22 when she was born, so it was safe to say that she practically lived through college with you both and your group of friends you were proud to call family.

lea sat babbling strings of incoherent phrases, the only words being audible was dada and daddy as she watched her favorite movie. it wasn’t until she caught law’s attention by calling out for him louder with a smile on her face as she turned to look up at him.

“daddy!,” law looked down at her with a small grin as he let out a hum, a sign she learned to understand that he was all hers. “cookie,” lea gave a near toothless grin as she shoved her cookie into her father’s mouth. what law didn’t realize was that the cookie was damn near soft from being soaked in her drool for a few minutes.

usually, if it were anyone else, law would have spit the cookie out and been furious that he just ate a drool filled snack from a sticky fingered kid. but his baby girl was so cute, he had no choice but to eat the cookie whole, and with the biggest grin on his face. lea giggled at his expression before exclaiming, “cookie!”

law looks over at the mini packet of sweets that he mindlessly allowed his princess to devour, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of all the crumbs the bed was littered in. lea crawled up to his face and placed a wet kiss on his lips before shoving another soggy cookie in his mouth. “cookie!”

it was ironic, really. you were more of the softer one when it came to letting your baby girl eat up sugary things with moderation, and law being the doctor always advised against you spoiling her sweet tooth (the one she actually inherited from him but fails to admit it). but he figured that he loved seeing baby lea happy, and if that meant feeding into her sugar crash that was bound to happen later on, he was gonna do it.

with a smug grin, he placed a kiss on lea’s light brown skin and hugged her small body tight to his own. “yeah, mommy’s gonna kill me when she finds out just how much sugar i let you eat today.”

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ceruleancattail · 10 months

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HELLOOOOOOO SAILOR I SEE YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN💗💗 may I request Leona and Floyd headcanons with gn!reader that has squishy cheeks? Like they have really soft cheeks, though you won’t find out unless you actually touch it or someth(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

Leona and Floyd with an s/o with squishy cheeks

Leona x reader, Floyd x reader

Leona:

You’re sitting by his side, perching over an old log. Bits of bark cling onto your palms, you lean back. Pulling your eyelids shut, listening to the crackle of the flames. The wind howling in the woods, cicadas screeching to each other from tree to tree.

The steady breaths of the guy next to you.

His chest rises and falls, eyes trained on the fire burning before him. A stick was loosely grasped in between his fingers, a white, plump mush-mellow perching on its end. Rolling it about, he heaves a sigh, tail swishing irately.

Leona was never really patient when it came to food, was he? You stifle a laugh, giggling into your sleeve. Unfortunately, his ears perk up. Snarling weakly, Leona snaps his jaws at you playfully.

Turning his body towards you, his elbow nudges your arm. He points towards your own stick, the mush-mellow perched on it burning into a blackened crisp.

“How ‘bout you keep your eyes on your own snack instead of staring at me, herbivore ?”

A sharp yelp, before you fumble about. Desperately trying to salvage your treat. Unfortunately, by the time you yanked it out of the fire, it was nothing more but ink blank ashes, crumbling off your stick.

A hand in the packaging revealed nothing but air. After crinkling the plastic for a few more seconds, you heave a sigh. Guess fate decided you had enough sugar for today.

Heat surges through your lips. A mush-mellow slips into your mouth, melting right on your tongue. Blinking in surprise, you stare quizzically at Leona. A chuckle, before his thumb swipes over your lips, tidying you up.

“What about you?”

Mouth still hot from the treat, you ask him.

“Did you not want the mush-mellow?”

His emerald eyes narrow, the ghost of a dastardly smirk dancing on his lips. His palm cups your cheek, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Leona’s fingers were calloused, rough against your skin.

Yet his touch?

As gentle as the evening breeze, caressing you softly.

A laugh, before Leona’s lips swoop in. A light peck, pressed into your cheek. A little nip as his canines graze over your skin, pressing into your flesh lightly.

Never enough to hurt, but it had your face glowing a crimson red. Tilting his head back, Leona purrs into your ear.

“I’ve got my own personal mush-mellow right here, herbivore.

And they’re softer then anything in this world.”

Floyd:

A squeak, as he hurls himself onto a chair. the cushions were made out of velvet. Plush enough for Floyd to sink into it. Leaning into the backrest, he hems and haws, bouncing slightly on the seat.

Clicking your pen, you stand at attention. A clipboard tucked into your arm, a list of chairs scribbled onto paper. Propping yourself up with your elbows, you nudge Floyd’s jaw lightly.

“Your opinion on this chair, Mr Leech?”

Pursing his lips, Floyd strokes his chin. An exaggerated motion that has you chuckling, despite yourself. Choosing a material for chairs wouldn’t be the first on your list of fun. Yet you’ve been smiling for a good hour.

Floyd just has this uncanny way of raising yo ur mood with just his presence. Even now, you just can’t help but smile whenever his mismatched eyes met yours.

They shine, like sunlight dancing over the ocean. The subtle light flickering, dancing freely with the waves. Rather reflective of Floyd’s personality, if you do say so yourself.

Another squeak. Floyd bounces on the seat, frowning slightly. He shakes his head, before snapping his fingers.

“This ain’t what I want. Next!”

You groan dramatically, before shoving him aside. Plopping down onto the chair, you squeezed yourself right next to Floyd. Holding the clipboard out, you make a show of flipping through the pages.

“We’ve reviewed more then ten chairs at this point. Tell me, good sir, what exactly are you looking for?”

His hand reaches out, seizing your cheek. His thumb rubs it affectionately, giving your cheek a playful squeeze.

“I want it to be as soft as you, shrimpy!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Leona kingscholar #Leona x reader #Leona kingscholar x reader #Leona #Floyd leech #Floyd leech x reader #Floyd x reader #Floyd #lucky potion🔹

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strawberrystepmom · 5 months

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gojo x f!reader. cw: food mentions and suggestive theming. he refers to reader as sunshine.

this is a bit of a love language exploration. reader’s giving love language is acts of service (😔 never beating those allegations) and gojo’s is giving physical touch with a dose of words of affirmation. wc 1.3k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune

There are times when the simple daily acts of taking care of Satoru feel like the sole thing you were put on earth to do.

Not in the fashion of the maids he was raised by, tutting over his wrinkled yukatas and forcing him to eat the slimy natto he’d swallow through a pout with eyes as watery as the oceans that color them, but as if you’re the well from which his energy springs. He wouldn’t think about little things like slowing down to eat, rest, drink, and enjoy without someone there to remind him to do it. The curse and blessing of being as close to otherworldly as one can be without entering the uncanny valley.

This realization came to you long before you admitted to anyone that you were enamored with him. Back when you were a pair of bratty teenagers and you’d only ever seen him munch on konpeito with a hand wrapped around a bottle of melon soda to wash the scratchy sugar crystals down. You were appalled at how little he cared about himself (you didn’t take excellent care of yourself either in those days, judgmental one…) but you took it upon yourself to start taking better care of yourself and him by proxy in the process. A small act of compassion for a friend would never hurt, you reasoned easily at 17.

At that point, your role was merely sharing bentos or onigiri you made for yourself with him, trading a bite of your tuna filled rice for a sip of his soda - the indirect kiss aspect of this ritual made him giddy for more years than he’d like to admit aloud - or some of the star shaped sugar crystals in his palm that he’d toss between your lips and teeth when you’d open your mouth wide enough to catch them.

(You’d stick your tongue out far enough to allow him to watch the sugar melt away and turn into a colorful splotch. His big eyes, animated as ever, widened further with each bright green and orange spot that appeared and washed away in a flash. This little ritual is also how both of you learned to French kiss but that’s a memory to reminisce upon another morning.)

The two of you experienced some terrible things your first year and his second year of high school. A certain part of you felt bad for how unapproachable and closed off he seemed after Suguru’s departure and you know now that the acts of kindness had a larger impact than intended. A stray cat that gets fed always returns, after all.

He keeps returning. You thank the stars above morning, noon, and night.

Now, caring for him is as steady and effortless as the click, click, click of the knob thay controls the flow of gas on your stove as a flame ignites beneath your rectangle shaped tamagoyaki pan. Oil sizzles and the sound of it mingles with the shower running across the apartment and Gojo’s singing that is somehow louder than both of these happenings.

No wonder the neighbors hate you.

Whatever off key song he has come up with at least makes you giggle while pouring enough egg into the pan to start the process of making breakfast. Some days you are both too busy to sit down and share these moments but you still make sure he eats, a bento always tucked into his bag that matches the one in yours. Thankfully you are both off today so you get to enjoy the process rather than rush through it.

“It smells amazing.”

You didn’t hear him shut off the shower, too busy pouring and positioning egg to notice wet footsteps across the floor and heading directly toward you. A towel is slung carelessly over his hips and you giggle when he drapes himself over your shoulder, his hands dangling down the front of you. Shifting your face, you meet his with a smile and pretend to frown when water droplets fall out of his hair and onto your shirt.

“Whatever happened to good morning?”

He looks up at you from the corner of his eye and then feigns a bright idea coming into his head, shaking it and making more droplets fall on you at the same time. Giggling, you try to simultaneously monitor your eggs and him at the same time.

“You’re so right, how could I forget!” He clears his throat dramatically and stands up, hands wrapping around your waist. He bends to whisper in your ear. “Good morning, sunshine.”

You glance up at him with a too fond smile. When did you become so soft? You’re no better than the sugar that used to melt on your tongue, more than charmed by his sweet words and tender touches. It may be written all over your face but you do your best to hide it, raising your brows and sighing dramatically.

“That’s better.”

Clicking off the heat and shooing him as much as you possibly can, you pull the hot pan off of the stove and deposit your eggs onto a cutting board. Even a few seconds of time apart makes Satoru antsy so he’s by your side long before you can miss him, an arm draped around your shoulder and a hand on his hip.

“Thank you for doing this. I know the sun makes you hiss before 10 so it means a lot.”

Rolling your eyes, you slice the tamagoyaki and he hums his approval immediately. Steam wafts through the air and you have to admit that it’s making your mouth water, too.

“You’re the only person I’d do it for,” you mutter under your breath and he laughs, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You’re a liar. You’d do this for anyone who needed it.”

You continue slicing and he removes his hand from his hip, reaching to grab one of the already cooling slices off of the cutting board and stuffing it into his mouth. It’s still too hot and whatever he was going to say next is lost completely when he burns his tongue. He breathes through his mouth for a second to cool the eggs down the rest of the way and you groan.

“Mouth closed. You’re an adult, I shouldn’t have to tell you this.”

Now that it has been sufficiently cooled down, he chews the mouthful and swallows. He knows you’re joking so there’s no hurt feelings, just a cheeky grin and a dramatic eye roll.

“I was going to say, before your breakfast tried to murder me, that I’m grateful you do it for me and not just because we live together.”

The way he beams down at you is all the thanks you need, his smile as big as he is, but the words make you squirm. You’ve never been good at accepting praise or compliments no matter the amount of them you’ve been given.

“Yeah, yeah. I did it willingly when I was just your late night call too, I know.” He scoffs and shakes his head, reaching for another piece of egg. You slap his hand away playfully. “You’ve never been just a late night call to me, you know that.”

This is true and you lean into his side, aware again that he’s naked except for that damn towel. Wrapping your arm around his waist, you tickle his side and he whines.

“Go get dressed. I’m feeding you natto this morning.”

Satoru Gojo, alleged grown man, whines again. Loudly, childishly, pathetically. You giggle at his dramatics and slump when he puts most of his weight on your shoulder, drooping.

“Really?” He asks and you shake your head. “No, we’re having salmon. Go get dressed.”

He shakes his hips and the towel wrapped around them threatens to fall right in the kitchen and you tap his side with a coy smile.

“Goooooo,” you urge. “The sooner you do the sooner we can eat and then our day can really begin.”

Raising your eyebrows suggestively, he picks up on your meaning immediately and holds the knot of the towel against him while he hurries to your room to pull on some sweatpants. They’re his favorite for easy access and he’s more than prepared to give you his thanks in the form of as many orgasms as you want as soon as you’ve both fueled up.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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scribble-dribble-writes · 9 months

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Plastic hearts - (8)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

It's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got

It's a cruel summer

---

Your eyes fluttered open, it took you a while to recognize your surroundings. The school nurse came into your line of sight with relief on her face.

“Oh good, the IV has worked. She must have just been dehydrated.”, she stated.

The last thing you could remember was Ken running to you, his arms encasing around you to prevent your fall but as you rubbed your forehead, you were sure your low sugar levels had contributed to having a hallucination.

“But it also looks like a common occurrence. All the girls have complained they’ve lost sleep and in most cases, can’t dream.”, she went on to explain. You hummed in response, you haven't been able to sleep well too.

Hopefully it wasn’t another virus because you couldn’t afford to take days off. Melissa’s house needed to be maintained and renovations were expensive affairs. She had come to see you as her own daughter and therefore bequeathed everything she owned to you.

You weren’t worthy of her kindness, you were a nobody and yet she made a way to look out for you even in a time she would not be here. So you just had to live up and work hard to feel worthy of that love. Thinking about her made you feel sad but then in a way, it would make you feel better.

That in Barbie land, everyone was sheltered from the experiences that occur here. But as you fell back into the pillows, feeling a little frail, you also enjoyed the fact that you could feel these emotions completely. So your eyes began to tear up and you let them fall down your cheek.

“You need to take a break, dear.”, the nurse placed a loving hand on your shoulder.

But could you take a break?

After all the work you put into yourself and still not feeling quite whole, to think of yourself as an individual, you were still questioning your own value, even here.

“It’s sweet how your boyfriend stayed by your side even while managing the parents who wanted to meet him.”, she said as she discharged you.

“I don’t have a –

“Is she alright?”, you heard him as he stormed into the room with worry ingrained in his eyes.

“She is. Just needs a lot of rest and care. Which I assume you are going to see through?”, the nurse gave him a knowing smile as he nodded his head with a solemn resolve.

Your legs felt wobbly and needed support to walk around, you had taken care of yourself. And yet you weren't sure how you ended up in this situation. The nurse placed your hands in his and as he took it, he took up your bag to sling it over his shoulder, collected the medical papers and thanked the nurse. All of which you were truly tired to do.

You waited till you got to the corridor but until then you couldn’t help but look at him. It was uncanny, the resemblance, but he felt like a whole new person. He was secure, stable and mature in the way he held himself. You were sure this wasn’t the Ken you had known.

“Look, sir. I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else.”, you came to a stop in the empty corridor.

“Your name tag says ‘Castilian Ryder’ and I don’t know anyone by that name.”, you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to validate the doubt you felt.

“I don’t like to use my first name here but it’s me, Brie.”, he said with a sense of unbelief.

Could you have really forgotten him?

“It’s Ken, from Barbie land.”, he stepped closer to you, to whisper.

He still smelled like the sea, even in a dingy school corridor in a metropolitan city that smelled like tarmac. You wanted to lean closer, to rest your head on his chest, to admit you were tired of running but maybe he was just this happy because his dream had come true. You had seen a newspaper clipping of him and Barbie, here in Los Angeles that many let it pass as a funny incident but you knew it was him. Maybe he was here, settled in life with his girlfriend and is just being nice because he had known you once.

Having experienced this world, you quickly learnt it was very difficult to trust men and their motives. They played sweet to turn out sour, their words sound like honey until you give in to their charms and then every single one of them that you’ve met so far finds a new way to let you down or betray you. All while finally stating that you weren’t enough.

You stepped away from him but his hold around you was firm, he held you up as the medication began to wear off.

“I can take care of myself from here. Why don’t you go back to where you came from?”, you peeled away his fingers from your waist, somehow even after all these years his touch burned your skin.

“And stop telling everyone you’re my boyfriend.”, you pointed a finger at him as you took the papers from his hand.

“Only someone who knew you well enough could sign the papers for your treatment. That’s why I lied.”, he replied and it stunned you.

He didn’t feel like he was from Barbie land, he held himself like a real person.

“So you can lie now?”, you scoffed and took your bag as you watched him furrow his brows in confusion.

“What?”, you snapped at him.

“I just thought at the very least, we would still be friends.”, he said but his eyes softened with sadness.

“Sorry, Ryder. You’ve just been lying to yourself.”, you turned away from him and it felt good to be mean. To have the power to hurt him. So you used it.

But it didn’t seem to stop him. He caught up to you.

“I need to get back to work and I also need you to leave me alone.”, you said without looking at him.

“The school’s closed, it’s 5pm and your staff were dismissed by this man called Sam.”, he narrated to you with his hands held behind his back.

You had missed the whole event?

Panic began to set in, this was not good, you pushed open the doors to only be proved right, the sun had set and no one was around. Except for a man leaning against the streetlight.

“You told me you could handle it.”, he spoke to you.

“You got me to trust you with this event and then, to get out of it, you act sick.”, Sam began his tantrum and you didn’t have the time for it.

“You didn’t tell me we had this event in the first place.”, you lashed out to which he pursed his lips.

“Excuses, excuses, excuses. That’s all you’ve been saying since Melissa passed.”, he flailed his arms about.

“I expect my staff to be put together. To not be tardy and all you’ve been doing is just that.”, he yelled.

“Somehow feeling the fatigue of being worked overtime is my fault?”, you argued to which he folded his arms and shook his head as though you’ve done a grave mistake.

“Maybe I need to cut back a few of your shifts.”, he tilted his head and you couldn’t push past that. This was his way of putting you in place because he had the power to do so.

“No, I’ll pull myself together.”, you said through gritted teeth which eased Sam.

“Good girl.”, he scoffed as though he was elated by the act of making you feel small.

“However, the school wants us to cater their lunch and maintain the cafeteria. I’m busy with handling the business side of things so you’re in charge of this venture.”, he said in a matter of fact tone.

You wanted to say no, that running the restaurant and the school order who be the death of you but he sensed it.

“And before you say no. Either take it up or you’re fired.”, he said it without feeling, with no empathy and there was nothing else you could do.

You agreed and he left, leaving you bear the weight of your decisions again. Maybe you should have just stayed in Barbie land, instead of thinking this place would be any different.

“What an idiot.”, Ken chuckled behind you.

“You still haven’t left?”, you turned to him with a scowl, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”, he said softly as he walked up to you, to take your bag and belongings.

You felt lighter and oddly consoled. To know that atleast one person could see through Sam’s cruelty.

“You have your own car?”, you smiled as you sniffled.

“Sure do.”, he winked as he held up his keys that where held together in a horse keychain.

His vehicle came into view and it wasn’t like what you had thought he would own. It was a regular sedan that had a few areas where the paint had worn off but the smile on his face as he unlocked it made you feel guilty. For having tried to hurt him before.

It looked like he had been here for a while, he put his phone up after entering your address into it. His taste in music was more nuanced and it amazed you that he even knew the lyrics well enough to sing to Taylor Swift’s songs. He was a whole new person, one you were only getting to know now.

You searched for signs, a ring on his finger, a picture in his wallet, the wallpaper on his phone, anything to confirm your thoughts on him having a life with Barbie. He couldn’t exist without her.

As he pulled up into the carpark, he snapped his fingers as though he finally had made a connection.

“All this while, we’ve been neighbors.”, he said with surprise.

He held up his phone to show you where his home marker was on the map and it was astonishing. He was in the apartment block next to you. For a brief second, his eyes caught yours and you could sense he had more to say or that he wanted to.

“Brie.”, he began with a serious tone and in the vacuum of his car it felt as though he was about to say that the world was about to end. But he sighed to remove his keys to then say,

“So you have your own dream house?”, he smiled and that brief moment was lost.

“I do.”, you said.

“but its not dreamy.”, you gave him a tired smile.

“Is it girl’s night, every night?”, he asked quietly, his eyes finding yours even in the dark and the only revelation from this was that you couldn’t erase him from your memories. Even after all this time, that connection you felt with him didn’t fade.

You shook your head to his question, it was hard making friends outside of work.

“I’m sorry.”, he said. His hands now gripping the steering wheel, he looked away.

“For hurting you. I didn’t know what I was doing before but I never wanted to hurt you.”, he continued and you could feel your heart in your throat.

“You don’t have to be nice to me, but I know how it feels.”, he said with a sad smile and distant eyes.

“It feels good to finally be able to inflict the same pain you felt.”, he reminisced to when he took over Barbie’s dream house.

But seeing you here, knowing the reason behind why you left, he lacked the courage to tell you the truth behind why he was here. Looking into your dark eyes even for a second reminded him of what he had done. It was unfair, to just come in, to state his business and in the desperation of clearing his name, to take you back. It had to be your choice, he was only the messenger. What you choose to do, was up to you.

“So if you don’t want me around. I understand.”, he said finally, and embraced the uncertainty. Saving Barbie land was important but then so were you.

You didn’t know what to say, in all your time here, no one had given you a choice. You were at a loss for words because this wasn’t what you had expected, for him to not attach himself into your life.

“Thank you for saying that, Ken.”, you felt the anxiety wash away as you pushed back your hair. To say his name after so long, felt good, felt like home.

“I just need a little time.”, you replied sinking into the seat.

“To process all of this.”, you caught his gaze as he nodded sweetly.

The blue of his eyes still held that glimmer, his smile, still perfect that it made you jealous even in a world that was imperfect and harsh, he wasn’t touched by it. And as you stayed in that second, forgiving him was easy. Because his actions were never done with the intent to be malicious. It still however didn't change you fate though.

He wasn’t yours, but you wished for it nonetheless.

---

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#barbie movie 2023 #barbie movie #barbie #ken barbie #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling #ken x y/n #ken x you #ken x reader #ken fluff #ken fic

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mimicmockingbirds · 1 year

Text

OK, but hear me out

Say Ride the Cyclone were to be adapted into a film; imagine how much fun it would be to see it animated.

Because for the main plot, like the intro song and the mostly dialogue scenes in limbo, you could easily do a stylistic, but still grounded in realism style that a lot of modern animated projects are doing right now (think Arcane or Into the Spider Verse). But once each of the kids go into their respective songs/fantasies for what their life could have been? What if those were done in completely different styles?? Imagine the additional, visual storytelling that would tell about who they are as characters?

Like say, for Ocean's number, WTWN, everything became more simplified, and the characters (especially Ocean herself) turned into a more rounded, chibi-like style to enhance just how cutesy and likeable she's trying to portray herself throughout that number.

Or for Noel's Lament, everything goes black and white, and the characters become even more 2D stylized, and the film scales down to a smaller millimeter frame, more reminiscent of cartoons from the early 20's, when animation was just starting out, to enhance his idealization of "the olden days" (as Ocean puts it).

Mischa's song, This Song is Awesome could be animated with a more choppy frame rate, and the character designs turn a little more jagged around the edges, kind of like animated music videos (I'm thinking a Gorillaz band vibe). But as he transitions into singing about Talia, the colors start to bleed out over their lineart, and become more paint-like and Talia herself moves like a rotoscoped character (think Loving, Vincent that came out a few years ago) to enhance the sense that she's somewhere between a real person and a fantasy Mischa's built in his mind.

Ricky's song would, of course, be stylized after those sci-fi cartoons from the 90's, like X-Men or Captain Planet.

For the Ballad of Jane Doe, I would love to see something like what Wolfwalkers did back in 2020, where most of the characters (in this case, the other kids) are for the most part, animated like traditional, 2D characters with very clean lines and neat movements, whereas Jane herself stands out for having messier, sketchy line art, and looks more and more unfinished in her animation as the song goes on, because she can feel more and more of her own identity being lost.

Constance's Sugar Cloud I could see done in the classic 2D Disney style (i.e., the Renaissance era of Disney, like the Lion King or Little Mermaid days) because not only is it really smooth and colorful and just all around nice to look at, but it reminds the average moviegoer of their childhood growing up with those movies (among others, obviously), which ties in nicely with Constance's preceding monologue about remembering her own life, and the good that came with the bad.

I'm even tempted to envision the first half of the finale song in a different style, when the stage production would show a quick projection of Jane/Penny's life after she returned to the world of the living. Imagine watching this animated film, and for that segment alone, it becomes that really hyper-realistic, almost uncanny valley CGI animation style, to show that she really has joined the world of the living, i.e. our world, among us, the living breathing movie goers watching this, and watching the other kids still in limbo fade back to that main art style for the final number.

I don't know; it just feels like something that would be so engaging to see from an already compelling storyline and characters. Especially with more experimental animation projects on the rise right now

#random rambling #Ride the Cyclone #Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg #Noel Gruber #Mischa Bachinski #Ricky Potts #Jane Doe #Penny Lamb #Constance Blackwood #idk I just really love animation you guys #so naturally I have to bring my latest hyperfixation into that world #might even sketch these different styles #for a better visual idea #but I haven't done any sketches in a hot minute #so who knows

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redladydeath · 1 month

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Okay, so last night I decided I wanted to do something with Vox and body horror and this story concept ended up manifesting in my brain. Massive CW for psychosis that's not actually psychosis, as well as self-harm and body horror.

Vox and Alastor meet in the 1940s while they're both doing electrical engineering work for the war effort. Vox is only 22, so he falls fast and hard for Alastor, who decides to use the younger man's infatuation with him to his advantage. One night while they're out drinking, Alastor convinces Vox to make a blood oath with him. He tells him it's just symbolic, but in reality, there's magic involved; if Alastor kills him, he'll get all the years Vox was supposed to live added to his own lifespan, which is dwindling. He lures Vox into the woods and tries to murder him, but is shot by a hunter who happens upon the struggle. Vox nearly loses an eye, but survives the encounter and is able to go on with his life, albeit with some pretty intense trauma.

Twenty years later, it's the 1960s. Vox has been a successful television presenter for 10~15 years now. He's rich and is married with children, but is less than an ideal husband/father. When he's not at work, he's usually with Valentino, a young male prostitute who he's been having a secret affair with for the past year or two. The two of them are currently somewhere between a sugar daddy/baby arrangement and a legit relationship. Vox is overall pretty content with his life and hasn't thought about Alastor in years. That is, until he starts feeling everything change.

At first, it seems like it's just a bad cold; his joints are stiff and he has the chills constantly, but that's nothing too unusual and he continues going about his daily life. But then the delusions start. Vox begins hearing strange things whenever a radio is on– words and phrases that shouldn't be coming out of it, said in a familiar tone of voice. He starts seeing shadows moving just out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns to look at them, they're gone. When Vox looks in the mirror or watches clips from his show, there's something different– uncanny– about his own eyes that make him feel like he's looking at a stranger. It must be stress, he thinks; he's been working himself too hard.

But things only get worse. Vox's body is stiff and jerky and cold– suddenly very cold to the touch, although no one other than Vox can feel it. Food and drink and cigarettes lose their taste. His emotions feel muted– all except fear. He starts hearing this loud, irritating humming when he's in the studio and it makes it hard for him to work. People are starting to get worried. He's acting erratically, asking if they can hear or feel things that simply aren't there. His wife thinks he's building towards a nervous breakdown, but Vox knows that's not true. Something's happening to him, something no one can perceive but him.

Things continue to deteriorate. Vox thinks he can hear metal creaking when he moves. His face won't show up on camera anymore; the footage always ends up damaged somehow for reasons no one can explain. He smashes the family radio in front of his kids when he clearly hears Alastor's voice coming out of it, taunting him. He asks Valentino, who hasn't even been to church in the past decade, to connect him to his childhood priest because he thinks he's being possessed and wants an exorcism— if the Protestant God won’t help him, maybe the Catholic one will. It still doesn't work.

Things come to a head one night when Vox, desperate to prove to himself and everyone else that he's not crazy, takes a knife and cuts deep into the hand he used to make the pact with Alastor all those years ago. He cuts and cuts and cuts until finally– finally– he sees it: metal and wires and no blood. He was right. He tries to show his wife but only succeeds in scaring her out of her wits. He flees the house and takes the family car: he needs to go see Valentino, show him, ask him for help. He crashes the car into a lamppost while trying to drive with one hand. A cashier working late in a nearby television/radio store tries to help him, bringing him into the store to wait while he calls an ambulance.

When the cashier leaves him alone to go make the call in the backroom, Vox hears it again. He hears Alastor's voice coming out of the radio, telling him that his time is up; he's been living on borrowed (or rather, stolen) time for the past ten years and now it's time to come join him, down where they both belong. Vox can feel his "bones" cracking, his skin stretching and tearing; he can't hear anything except Alastor's voice alongside the blaring static emitting from all the TVs and radios in the store. He's dying he's dying he's dying– until he stumbles into a fusebox and the whole store is engulfed in an electrical fire.

When the firemen dig through the rubble, they never find a human body.

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seethesin · 7 months

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heyyy!! by any wicked chance, could you possibly write an imagine story that includes squirting? I find that its rear to see any stories with it but it would be absolutely hot😴

pairing: Shane McCutcheon x F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, established relationship, teasing, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting (18+, mdni)

a/n: your wish is my command, anon 😇

Shane is two fingers deep into your cunt, her free hand pressing down on your lower belly. She’s eye level with your groin, dragging her gaze up to watch your face contort in pleasure. You writhe on the mattress, screwing your eyes shut as staccato gasps push from your chest. You can’t see it, but a shit eating grin stretches across her face.

“Don’t stop,” you pant, a hand flying down to tangle itself into her shaggy hair.

Shane grunts in the affirmative, her smirk finally wiped clean as you give a firm tug on her hair. Her lips lurch forward to envelop your clit, moaning into the sensitive bud. She sucks sharply and you keen, momentarily arching off the mattress. You regain yourself and shove your hips closer to her mouth.

“Fuck, Shane,” you breathe, grip tight on her scalp as you feel her fingers curl inside you. Whatever else you want to beg for dies quickly on your tongue. Instead, your breath goes ragged. Your free hand goes to your mouth, biting down on your fist to muffle your sobs.

Warmth spreads from your belly down, pooling between your legs. Shane's fingers piston inside you, hitting your g spot with uncanny precision. It's the combination of her determined digits and inquisitive tongue that finally snaps the tension in your groin.

Your orgasm washes over you with such an intensity you don't know what to focus on first. It's abnormally warm and wet between your legs; the wanton squelching of your cunt sounds more obscene than usual. Your fingers are still latched in Shane's hair, gripping onto her for dear life as the flat of her tongue presses against your clit. Your hips rock feebly into Shane's fingers, milking every last lick of friction you could possibly take.

"Oh fuck." Shane's voice is muffled as you come back to reality. Blinking slowly, you peek down through your lashes at her. She's transfixed on your pussy, her eyes following a trail that you are clueless to. Your slick drips from the bottom half of her face. Even in your current state, you notice her chin is shinier than usual. Curiously, your brows furrow as you sit up on your elbows.

"Shane?"

Her gaze flickers up to you, a fresh smirk playing on her lips. Gently, she withdraws her fingers from your cunt before bringing them to her face. She wipes the remaining slick off her chin and sucks the digits clean.

Your clit throbs and you bite back a whimper. You want her back between your legs.

"You squirted, sugar," she rasps and immediately, you feel flush crawling up your neck. You swipe your fingers against your thighs, eyes wide at the realization.

You squirted directly in Shane's mouth.

Immediately, your palms cover your face, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Oh my god," you groan, shaking your head feverishly in your hands. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

Shane chuckles below you, slowly inching up to meet your blushing face. Her fingers curl around your wrists and gently, she pries them off. A familiar, devious glint flashes in her eyes as she leers at you.

"Think you can do that again for me?"

#shane mccutcheon #shane mccutcheon x reader #shane mccutcheon imagine #the l word #the l word imagine #tlw fandom #tlw #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq #smut #wlw nsft #lesbian nsft #lgbt nsft #fanfiction #fanfic

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kalims · 2 years

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the day we met.

and to think i promised i wouldn't fall in love. (modern au)

includes. kamisato ayato, heizou, scaramouche, xiao, thoma, pantalone, arlecchino.

cw. cursing, language.

note. I've been dead for like two months in genshin but suprise! we have new people

kamisato ayato as the person that nearly all people adore, and envy alike. you can't say that you aren't immune to his uncanny charm to entrance a room with his gaze alone, and you definitely can't say that you indulged yourself a little further when he just so happened to set his eyes on you to cast a friendly smile. you're yet but another onlooker to the man that you could only dream to be yours. you're a little weirded out when it turns out he's a close friend of one of your friends, avoiding him like a plague since you're too embarrassed to face ayato and remember all those daydreams about him.

heizou as the boy who sits right behind your desk. you don't really know what to think of him other than the fact that he's unbearably annoying. during a test he's made you his frequent target to his little shenanigans of which you'd like to call 'bullying'. heizou is the boy that kept randomly throwing pieces of paper behind your head, acting innocent when you look back—smiling at you like he doesn't know that you know. he saved your ass one time where you completely missed a session to study, falling asleep amidst your drowsiness, and waking up horrified. you first thought the paper he threw at you was another one of his shenanigans but when you open it the exam answers are there.

scaramouche as your incredibly rude neighbor. you first officially meet him 1AM in the nearest convenience store when you were literally starving, and commuted to grab a quick snack. there was one packet of your favorite food left, just as you're about to catch it with your hands another pair viciously snatches it away. you look to the side only to meet eyes with a mocking, triumphant face. he apparently recognized you and made it his full time job to make your life worse than it already was. 'accidentally' set his pet to trash your garden, slamming the door on you when you end up at his doorstep asking if he has any spare sugar, and giving you the finger with an arrogant grin when he somehow ups you.

xiao as that one student in school who 50% people don't know exist, the remaining 50% being scared of him since he has the most terrifying dead stare. you only approach him, albeit curious about the rumors but all you really discover is a seemingly pleased looking xiao eating what you'd think to be 'almond tofu'. sure he looks a little intimidating but his body languange screams relaxed to you, what you discovered was a great contrast to all those rumors. atleast until he turned, and met you with an icy stare. all you could muster up was a nervous wave. though ultimately leaving him alone you still spare glances at lunch time when he's back to the more happy self, looking closer to realize that his 'dead stare' was his normal look.

thoma as the friend you formally met kamisato ayato from. he's a dear. in spite of the bundle of people you've met you can surely say that thoma's the longest one you knew. you're suprised, baffled even—at the fact that he's still single. thoma is the biggest catch you've ever seen with your own two eyes and you're even including ayato in the rope of fish in the sea! he's the kind of guy your parents would immediately approve of with just one dinner over and you have to actually have a whole debate on them to not start because he's just your friend. your mom tells you that you should take him before anyone else does.

pantalone as that one upperclassmen who already has a stable business that would no doubt have him set for life. scratch ayato as the one being most popular, it's obviously the people in that harbinger group. you're insanely jealous of him and wondering why the fuck hes still in college when dropping out won't even have a dent on his status, or business! if you had a life like his you'd live it out with the luxury his cash provided. somehow he knows you and makes it so that it's like subtly implying that he's richer than you in every other way. (he doesn't tell you that scaramouche babbles about you nearly half the time.)

arlecchino as another one of the members of the harbingers group. unlike pantalone who keeps it a secret, arlecchino straight up tells you that she recognizes you from scaramouche's endless complaints. she's quiet. if not a little harsh if agitated but it's on a more controlled degree compared to scaramouche. you'd prefer her silence over his insults any day. she's a great listener, not really speaking much other than a few comments but her eyes on you is what makes you aware that she's still listening.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #kamisato ayato x reader #heizou x reader #scaramouche x reader #thoma x reader #pantalone x reader #arlecchino x reader #x reader #x gn reader #xiao x reader

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kiwanopie · 1 year

Text

New Recruit!

Crime Au!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!Reader

short drabble because I’ve been on a mini crime au brainrot

cw: fluff. minor character death, misogyny (not by Kiyoomi) references to a criminal organization, a little gore, a lot of Kiyoomi being whipped beyond comprehension

wc: 1.5k

You just showed up one day.

Granted, the boss’s behavior had been a little weird for a while. Less picky about the little things, less prone to administering punishment over something small. He’d take his lunch breaks out of his office now more often than not, which in itself was its own brand of odd. But coming back an hour later with his hair disheveled and his cuffs tucked up his sleeve, a few odd bruises hidden on his collarbone; that was just uncanny. Nobody could really comprehend a mean stickler like him getting a girlfriend.

But then one day, Atsumu trudging himself to his boss’s office with a sigh - Eyebrows already cinched by the stress that should come at telling his less than congenial boss that his team has been crunching the numbers, and it looks like they might be dealing with a mole. Already out of patience for the lecture he’s about to suffer through, before going through the wearisome task of rounding up all the workers, and then sitting through the world’s most boring execution. He can already hear Kiyoomi’s irritated sigh. And if this were any regular job he just might say he's been due some vacation time.

Atsumu runs an exasperated hand through his blonde hair. “Aye boss, you-“

There’s a girl sitting on his lap.

A pretty thing too. Soft pretty doe eyes, softer satin skin, cute little dress that rides up your thighs as you sit on his boss’s lap and fuck if you don’t look squeezable. Just getting a glance at you from his spot at the door has him turning pink. He barely even realizes he’s staring. - Where the fuck did he pick you up from?

“Uh… Sorry,” Atsumu clears his throat. “I can come back later if yer busy.”

You tilt your head as the hand comfied on your back scoots lower with a quiet hiss, Kiyoomi makes an effort to keep you comfortable by hooking his hand over your hip. “It’s fine. What’s the issue?”

Atsumu’s stare flickers between you both. “The-… Adrian and the boys downstairs have been summin’ up our contract to success ratio over the past couple months and uh, it looks like we might be dealin’ with a mole.”

Kiyoomi expectedly doesn’t look very pleased at something like that but it’s a far cry from his usual scowl and tirade combo. More of a… frustrated grimace? Annoyed more than anything else. “Do they have any idea who it could be?”

“We got it down to Sugar, Ayame, Ren, and Susumu. Since they’ve been the only ones who can’t be accounted for durin’ some bumps in the day.”

Kiyoomi nods slowly. “Okay…”

Atsumu watches you lean for one of the luxury pens in his pencil holder. Last time he reached for one those the bastard flicked him hard on the knuckles. But you study the carefully cashmered casing without so much as glancing up for a response.

Kiyoomi pulls at the bottom of it until the cap releases with a small click, reaching for a notepad on his desk to jot down a few quick numbers. “Yeah, okay… Kill them all then.”

“Wha- You sure?”

“Let’s not risk it.” He says. Like it always could have been that easy. “We’ll send a few flowers to their families, say they died on a contract. If the mole’s people are smart they’ll know it’s a lie. Then it’s up to them to make their move.”

Wha- So this guy can pick and choose when to be difficult?! “O.K.! I’ll get that handled for ya then.”

“Lock the door on your way out.”

He bows as he turns for the door again, twisting the lock before closing it carefully.

And then he’s blowing out a disbelieving raspberry.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out this guy is head over heels for whoever the hell this chick is. Kiyoomi’s not exactly a sociable guy, or a… particularly affable guy either, so seeing him start to go so out of his way to make sure someone’s happy feels like stepping into the twilight zone. He hasn’t completely changed, don’t get him wrong. Just cause he’s laying down a path of roses for his sweetheart doesn’t mean the bed of eggshells the rest of the guys have to stumble on gets any less sharper. The guy started enforcing a whole rule against loud sudden noises just cause they startle his princess whenever you drop by. No fights - at least, not without the threat of mutilation should they start one when you’re around. No overtly coarse language, no gun play near his office, if you gotta kill a package do it where you won’t hear it scream, and under no - No circumstances do you touch or even stare too long at the missus.

“Or what?” Kaio snorts. “With all the bullshit he’s making us do for this chick, I could at least expect some eye service?”

Atsumu scoffs as Hinata winces. “Yeahh… You probably shouldn’t say something like that out loud.”

Kaio snorts. “Why? Cause she’ll hear? She walks around in those skimpy little dresses and I can’t even look? Feels like a buncha work with no pay off. Least tell us where you found the slut. Whatever she’s got has to be pretty fuckin’ good if he’s already this whipped.”

Atsumu glances at Bokuto who snorts into his coffee cup. Reacting more to the way his coworker wearily shakes his head than the guy talking himself into an early grave.

He licks his lips before commenting. “You’re pretty stupid, Katsuro.”

“Says the guy who shot himself in the ass playing poker. Twice.”

Kaio grimaces before sitting back in his seat, looking on at his fellow high ranking coworkers as they avoid his place in the room. “What? Am I wrong? The broad’s turned this place into a daycare center. First no yelling, then no fighting - hell, give it a few months and she’ll tell the bastard that we can’t kill anymore-“

Click!

The cold metal against the back of his head sends shivers down his spine.

Kiyoomi affirms flatly. “She wouldn’t do that. ‘Wouldn’t be able to keep business booming like it is.”

“B-Boss-“

“The pay off is that by doing what I say, you get to live another day. A worthless piece of shit like you can comprehend something like that, right?”

“Ye-Yes, sir.” Kaio swallows. “Look I didn’t mean anything by-“

Kiyoomi presses the barrel a little firmer against his head, enough to make him flinch. “Don’t go back on your word, Katsuro. You said what you said and you meant it. - At least, say you died for a reason.”

Atsumu has to cough into his shoulder to keep himself from outright laughing at the way Kaio all but turns blue. “Sakusa-san-“

“I shouldn’t have to say how dumb it was to speak out of your ass about my fiancé, especially on my soil. - Eating my food, and wearing my clothes, and breathing breaths that I gave you. The money in your pocket, the bed you sleep in at night, every fucking thing you have is because of me. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“That makes you my property?”

“Y-Yes.”

Kiyoomi exhales out of his nose. Tall broad frame casting a shadow over the man as he all but towers behind him. “What do you suppose I do when my property - one of my things starts to behave defectively? I don’t need something that doesn’t work anymore, do I?”

“Please, Sakusa-san-“

“A gunshot makes a pretty loud noise,” Kiyoomi squares his feet. “Aren’t we lucky she didn’t show up today.”

“I’m-“

The barrage of blood stains Hinata’s suit jacket.

Kiyoomi scowls at the mess before him as he backs away from the sodden chair, brain matter already soaked into his button up and turning cold in the breeze of the AC. The waste of a good bullet makes him kiss his teeth, but blowing his cool like that makes him frown altogether. He’s been trying to work on his temper. If you were here, he knows you’d be disappointed, and he can’t afford to blow his top in front of you should something like this happen when you’re around.

He sighs as he flicks the safety with his thumb. Piece of shit like that wouldn’t know the word compromise if it blew his skull in. He opens his mouth to tell one of them to call for clean up.

Before Bokuto’s blowing out his eardrums. “Oh my god! You got engaged?!! Congratulations!!”

Kiyoomi freezes.

“…Thank you.”

“Hell yeah, Omi,” Atsumu reaches for his brandy. It’s 10am. “Congrats! Happy to see an old firecracker like you get tied down.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh! When’s the wedding?! Do you have a date or anything set yet?”

“I’m hoping this winter,” Kiyoomi exhales. “Spring at the latest but I’m not worried about expenses. Just what it’ll take to fly her family out this way.”

“Do any of them speak Japanese?” Atsumu asks.

Kiyoomi’s sighing again. “No.”

He narrows his eyes as his number two snorts.

Hinata clears his throat. “Does anybody have a towelette?”

“Uh - Yeah,” Kiyoomi bashfully reholsters his pistol. “Sorry about that.”

reblog? 🥺 uwu

#he most likely has microphones everywhere he heard that shit cocked his pistol and got to STEPPING #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa x you #sakusa imagines #sakusa drabble #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #crime au #crime lord!sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu

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