#would love to hear from you if you have Gender Thoughts about Them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ozzgin · 6 months

Text

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster smut #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

12K notes · View notes

daosies · 1 month

Text

when you get injured

sylus, xavier, rafayel ♡ gn!reader

warnings: alcohol (sylus), graphic depictions of violence, sylus is his own warning he's so freaky (but hes so fine), major story spoilers (all three), blood, mc is the protagonist but gender neutral, lowercase intended

notes: MISTY INVASION GOT ME

sylus always looks forward to your calls.

he likes listening to you ramble about the little nothings of your day, the mindless white noise that echoes from your end whenever you get lost in thought.

more often than not, sylus isn't satisfied with just that. sometimes, he wishes he could witness your expressions for himself rather than through the chirps and retellings from mephisto, to narrow the distance between the two of you.

clink! he lifts a glass of whiskey up to his lips.

sylus eyes his phone before taking a sip, gaze beginning to drift around the vastness of his bedroom. warm lamps illuminate the corners and his attention redirects towards the various plushies that line the shelves.

ever-so slightly, the corners of his lips break into the subtlest of smiles.

his gaze returns to the phone.

later than usual, sylus thinks, staring at the pretentious (according to you) grandfather clock in his room. tick, tick. its tempo mimics his heartbeat, the steady rhythm falling into place.

sylus's days are redundant—they have been for quite a while—but what he always looks forward to is your calls, which always come at this time.

except for today, it seems. even though you're not obligated to call him, and you never told him that these calls would become a regular occurrence, sylus has grown expectant. terribly so.

he takes another sip of his drink, eyes darting back and forth from his phone to his wristwatch.

sylus would like to maintain his image as an independent, mysterious alpha; but you—oh, you—have a knack at dismembering him, at taking apart the chambers of his heart and weaving yourself into its tissue. you tattoo yourself into his skin, permeating into his existence without ever realizing.

you've always been a little cruel. sylus likes that about you.

tick, tick. he half-considers calling you first. when it comes to you, sylus has nothing to lose—from the crimson of his irises to the crimson of his blood, he's surrendered everything, offering all that he has in a ferocious, lovely organ that goes, endlessly: thump, thump, thump...

he thinks of your fantastic beauty. the tempo stutters.

tick, tick. ring! sylus reaches for his phone within an instant, not caring about luke and kieran's spiel about how a "real charmer" would wait for the phone to ring multiple times before picking up. but sylus doesn't have time to play games like that—he wants to hear your voice and he wants to hear it now.

"so, you finally decided to call, hm?" sylus asks, swirling his drink leisurely. he brings the glass up to his lips, unable to contain the way a smirk breaks out onto his face, the way you do so much as exist, the way you radiate and oh, the way you seek him out!

sylus thinks he's never felt so satisfied before, with all that he's ever achieved, you just might be the greatest of them all.

and he hasn't even achieved you yet. he thinks he never will; you've always been volatile, wildly beautiful and wildly free. again, sylus likes that about you.

you don't respond. sylus sets his glass down on the table, unbothered, smirk still fixed onto his lips. that is until he hears a loud crash from your end, the sound of labored breaths following soon after.

"[name]?" sylus calls, standing up immediately. his whiskey remains forgotten, free hand reaching for the leather coat draped across his chair, the fabric still stained red from earlier events.

sylus has no time to worry about how he presents himself, because before you can even utter another word, he's racing out of his pretentious (according to you) mansion and swinging a leg over his motorbike.

the steady tempo of his heart begins to race, beating the rhythm of the grandfather clock that, endlessly, echoes tick, tick... sylus attributes its consistency to the fact that the grandfather clock, in all its glory, has never had the pleasure of knowing you.

if it did, then its flow would be disrupted, its rhythm would stutter and leap, and sylus knows this fact all too well because it's happened to him. because it's happening to him.

thump, thump-thump... "[name]," sylus calls. he says your name just to say it, to feel its syllables on his tongue, to swallow the sound and let it reverberate throughout his chest, easing the spasm of his heart and the fracturing of his ribs.

"[name], talk to me," sylus says, the steadiness of his voice starkly contrasting the tremble of his irises. "[name], i'll be there. count to three?"

one. he revvs the engine.

two. his fingers tighten around the handlebars.

three. the tempo of his heart goes, achingly, thump-thump-thump, thump... for a second, the sound changes. for a second, the sound shifts and utters, in the softest of timbres: you.

black and red tendrils spew from the ground below you, wrapping your figure in a tender embrace whilst the sound of an engine rings throughout your ears.

smoke envelopes the room, your vision becoming blurry while the tendrils shrink away, their absence filled in by the warmth of calloused hands.

sylus lifts you up, pressing your head against his chest before whispering, "go to sleep, darling. it'll all be over soon."

when your eyes lull back, and your body falls limp, sylus goes mad. his hands never leave your figure, his evol forming limbs to strangle your opponent, watching the way they writhe and scream without ever tearing his gaze away.

"report," sylus demands, talking to no one.

"after finding out [name] was closely associated with you, boss, this person tried to get some information about you." still, someone responds.

sylus chuckles. "two corrections." he steps towards the suffocating person, crimson gaze trailing theirs and landing on you. when he notices this, sylus clicks his tongue, tightening the tendrils of his evol and forcing the perpetrator to look away from you.

tenderly, sylus caresses the side of your face, as if to brush away that person's distateful gaze.

"[name] and i are more than just close associates," sylus continues with his previous statement, holding you closer towards him. he finds solace in the way your chest rises up and down, reassuring him of your vitality, your incomparable radiance.

"and," he says, retracting his evol. the person falls to the floor with a harsh thud, and sylus merely tilts his head in the direction of the body, commanding the twins to clean the corpse up.

"that isn't a person. it's just some pest. kieran, don't make that mistake again."

luke snickers.

kieran straightens up, mop in hand. "yes, boss!"

only when your breathing steadies does sylus's heart return to its regular rhythm, matching the pace of the pretentious grandfather clock.

you've taken his bed (he's given it, really), and sylus doesn't bother pulling up a chair; sinking to his knees as he gazes at you fearfully, reverently. his hands come up to cover yours, elbows digging into the mattress. the warmth of your skin mixes with his own.

you've taken his bed, but sylus thinks that that's only one of the many things you've taken. you've taken his mind, his heart, him. you've taken all that he's got to give, all that he's ever fathomed of being his.

"you're always so cruel," sylus mutters to himself, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

(but, i love that about you, he thinks.)

your head and side are wrapped with bandages, tended to by sylus himself. he doesn't trust anyone else—not even luke or kieran—when it comes to treating you; you're too delicate, too fragile for a place like this.

sylus's gaze remains fixed on the bridge of your nose, the cracks of your lips. sweat trickles down your forehead, your brows furrowed from discomfort and nightmares plaguing your sleep. he reaches a hand to brush the sweat away, grazing across your skin until your brows ease up, until your expression drifts into that of contentedness.

oh, you're beautiful. ethereally so.

(you don't belong here.)

still, sylus's hand traces over yours. he feels the callouses adorning your palm, marred by your work as a hunter. filling the gaps of your fingers with his own, sylus's hand locks into place.

(you call it abduction. he calls it love.)

whenever it comes to you, xavier is on high alert.

he's always hyper aware of your location, your status and your surroundings. whenever you fight wanderers together—as partners often do—he's always thinking of you, of ways to redirect everything towards him, of ways to get you as far away as possible.

for the longest time, xavier thought that that'd be enough. he thought that, so long as you're okay, he doesn't care about what happens to him, about what happens to anything. he's always thought that, really. here and philos alike.

"xavier!" you yell, and before he can even react, your figure comes colliding with his, arms wrapping tightly around the back of his neck as the two of you tumble towards the ground.

he doesn't know what went wrong—was it his clumsiness? was it his arrogance? he had always thought that, so long as you were safe, nothing else mattered.

but xavier had never thought of a situation where he was the one at risk, where he was the one who needed saving. he had never thought that you'd be the one to sacrifice yourself, because, ever since he met you, xavier identified himself as a sword, as a weapon at your disposal.

he is your weapon. he is yours.

xavier's hand comes to the small of your back, feeling the blood seep in between the gaps of his fingers. his breath falls short of escaping, shrinking down his esophagus and bringing everything, from the race of his heart to the warmth of his face to a standstill.

primal instincts take over. xavier fights with tooth and nail, forgetting all that he's learned from his swordsmanship classes—but oh, never forgetting his time with you—while his grip around your waist tightens.

his movements are quick and wild as he slices through each wanderer with the efficiency of a machine, running on a code that prints out, endlessly, you, you, you.

after everything has been eliminated, xavier reaches for your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. after confirming that it's there, he teleports away to the nearest hospital, free palm pressing into the center of your wound.

xavier's scared. he's scared you won't make it. he's scared he's failed you. he's scared of a lot of things, really.

when you're wheeled away in a stretcher, tended to by a whole team of medical professionals, xavier's left yearning and waiting, clinging onto nothing but hope and a fragmented memory of you. he's always yearned—back in philos and here, now—but it's a little different this time.

you've always been out of reach, like you were a star and he, an observer. but now, you're so tangible, so delicate and so fleeting despite being right there.

xavier feels like you could disappear within an instant, and he wouldn't put it past you to leave this life behind, to restart anew somewhere else. with someone who was a little stronger than him, a little less selfish.

he's selfish. so what?

you evoke something primal within him, something that makes him forget his etiquette classes and his time at the academy, wasting away at textbooks and duels. you make xavier burn, wildly, fantastically, like a flame—like a star, even.

you make him feel unlike himself, because xavier's used to being calm and collected and oh-so drowsy, but when it comes to you, everything changes. the world reinvents itself anew and presents itself, fogged in a pink lens, as something lovelier than before.

xavier resigns himself to one of the many chairs of the waiting room. he buries his face into his gloved hands, not caring about the messiness of his appearance.

when he closes his eyes, all he can see is your limp figure. he opts to stare at the television screen instead, the reports of the news appearing mute to his deafened ears. xavier swallows thickly, mouth feeling terribly dry, wrapped around the shape of your name. it waits.

a couple hours pass, and a nurse appears to fetch him. xavier says nothing, tongue still stuck in time.

only when he enters your room, and listens to the repetitive beep of the heart monitor, does his mouth free itself from its prison, liberating itself to utter, in the faintest of whispers, "[name]..."

you don't stir awake. xavier's fine with that. he pulls a chair to your bedside, and he sits, and he stares. periwinkle eyes trail across your features, tracing them like a sculptor, desperate to reshape the bandages and gauzes that cover your abdomen.

xavier wishes he could crawl into your body and steal all the pain for himself.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him, the kind of instinct that is only ever sung about in epics and myths and tragic, star-crossed plays.

he reaches forward, bare thumb coming to graze over your cheekbone. you're quiet, too quiet, and xavier's paranoid. too paranoid.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it takes over xavier's eyes and it trains them to fixate on you.

your image slips into his sight, swallowed greedily by xavier's pupils, remembered fervently by his mind. while his hands cannot have you, xavier compensates with his eyes, desperate and mad and oh, so lovely.

there's a great, irrevocable instinct within him. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.

xavier forfeits his beloved sleep in order to watch over your heart monitor, to watch over your heart.

even when all the lights shut off, and when the device's beeps blend into the white noise of the hospital room, his periwinkle gaze never leaves your figure, adjusting to the darkness and finding solace there.

(a star has landed on earth. it's guided by a great, irrevocable instinct. it's primal and it's primitive and it's hungry.)

once more, xavier's mouth wraps around the shape of your name. it utters, in the softest of timbres, "[name], i love you."

although you aren't awake to respond, xavier is content with just this.

(a star has landed on earth. it stayed because it found you.)

"[name]," he whispers again, finding comfort in the familiar syllables, "i love you." maybe, saying it will make it realer than it already is. maybe, saying it will satiate his soul, providing him with enough sustenance to feast on for the next century or two.

maybe, xavier just calls your name to feel its syllables on his tongue. because he likes the sound of your name. because he wants to hear it, in whatever capacity, whenever he can.

maybe, it's just a great, irrevocable instinct.

whatever it is, xavier is content. he stares at you, and he feasts.

it always goes like this: with rafayel chasing after you.

you have a habit of leaving him behind—rafayel thinks it's just in your nature.

you give him a taste of everything before leaving him with nothing, and even though rafayel hates, hates you for that, he can't help but want everything again.

(he had everything, once.)

"[name]!" the scream that erupts from rafayel's throat is raw, marred by a desperation and anguish that travels across lifetimes. rafayel can't lose you—not again, not like this.

"raf—" you're interrupted by a violent cough, blood spilling from your lips. "just go!"

and there you go again, in all your selfish glory, in all your inconsiderate and shameless heroism. do you like watching his expression drop into that of utter horror, when all he's ever wanted was you?

he can never get his way.

"ugh," he mutters to himself, voice cracking at the end. "i just hate you, you know!?" your gaze is preoccupied by the giant wanderer that looms over your figure, its attention belonging wholly to you.

rafayel has the audacity to be offended. hello? he manages to think, despite all the fear and anxiety. why's it not looking at me? i'm right here!

you aim your gun at the wanderer's head, and rafayel almost wants to laugh. to think you're fighting close-combat with guns—wow, what an accomplished bodyguard you are!

rafayel is half-considering finding a new bodyguard now, because it looks like his current one isn't too bright in the head.

rafayel hates the way you go around, saving everyone, saving everything. he hates the way you save and the way you forget, the way you go around picking up more strays whilst forgetting your first one.

rafayel hates you. he hates you. he hates you!

despite all the pain and soreness in his (self-proclaimed) delicate limbs, he rushes forward, daggers in hand while fire vomits from the ground. rafayel hates you, sure, but hate and love are lawfully wedded, tightly intertwined and fueled by one another.

rafayel hates you. he hates you. but oh, he loves you. he loves you in the way he's willing to let you keep that heart of his, the way orpheus loved eurydice, the way he did everything and anything, only to catch a glimpse before losing it all.

he charges in front of you, occupying the wanderer while you take a couple steps back. rafayel half-wishes you'd run. he half-wishes you'd turn and abandon him so he could find it in himself to abandon you. you did it once before, so why can't you do it again?

when bullets stop flying, rafayel wonders if you left. he wonders if it's really over. so, he looks back.

you're still there. this time, you don't disappear. your eyes meet his, and somehow, you find it in yourself to smile.

he wants to cry.

"rafayel, let's resonate!"

and oh, you're otherwordly. you're so, so gorgeous. it's in the flame that dances across your irises, the determination that settles into your features.

you're so beautiful it hurts, because rafayel hates the effect you have on him, the way you go around enchanting everyone, everything!

when crimson blood trickles down your face, staining your skin a violent red, rafayel thinks you're sublime. he feels insignificant in your radiance, in your marvelous existence, your marvelous world.

"fine, let's!"

your hand locks with his, and rafayel hates the way his heart skips a beat. he hates the way yours didn't. he hates the way he's the only one overthinking these things, the only one who remembers after all this time.

the world is engulfed in flames. and rafayel spares you a glance, your skin illuminated by the warmth, flickering in and out. the wanderer disintegrates into ash, leaving nothing but a measly protocore for all the suffering it put him through.

your eyes fall back. instinctively, rafayel reaches a hand out, catching you in his arms despite hating the way you contort his limbs, the way you make him trail after you like a madman.

he is anything but a madman—in fact, rafayel is perfectly normal.

still, he cradles you in his arms. blood trickles from the side of your face.

"you're not the only one bleeding," rafayel mutters bitterly, feeling lightheaded himself. "who do you even think you are?"

his thumb comes to brush your chapped lips, wiping stray droplets of blood from the dried skin.

you're ethereal. rafayel will never admit that outloud. not like this. but, he thinks that you're something akin to a grecian statue, reflecting all that is lovely and all that is mortal.

rafayel thinks that, when you were crafted—long before this current incarnation—you were crafted with the most delicate of touches, the loveliest of visions.

he looks at you, and he wants to create. he wants to waste away at his canvases, wild and fanatic and looking over his shoulder, wondering if you'll still be there when it's all over.

knowing your nature, you won't be.

still, rafayel can't help but dream. dreams can change the world, after all. dreams are what led him back to you.

his thumb reaches for his own lips. he kisses the skin and he weeps.

rafayel hates you.

he hates you so, so much.

he shrinks into your figure and he follows your heartbeat, the sound so, achingly familiar.

when you regain consciousness, it's in rafayel's studio. your figure is drowned in pearl-white blankets, your wounds wrapped tenderly with fresh bandages.

"good mooorning, sleepyhead," rafayel says, not facing you. his hands are occupied with a brush and palette, head craned upward to fully take in the canvas. "some bodyguard you are, huh!"

"rafayel!" you quickly exclaim, trying to stand up. rafayel is quick to turn around, setting his palette down to wag a disapproving finger at you.

"nuh uh! don't get out of bed! get some rest! and oh, don't even talk to me! not until you've apologized for doing all that dumb, fish-brained stuff!"

rafayel looks back. you're still there.

in this life, rafayel thinks he has everything.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lnds x reader #rafayel x mc #loveanddeepspace #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #xavier love and deepspace

2K notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 1 month

Note

Could I HCs for the headmasters (or only Riddle, Leona and Azul) reacting to one of their students asking to be transferred to ramshackle? like a small club of Yuu admirers :3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yuu Admirer Club!

I misread this the first time and thought it was yuu transferring to THEIR dorms but, actually, I like this better. this is fun

summary: yuu admirer club :) type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

seeing as Heartslabyul hasn't had an expulsion, transfer, or dropout since Riddle became housewarden, this comes as...

...quite a shock

he thought Ace had been joking at first

or annoying him on purpose...

and then he comes down to the lounge one morning with his bags packed and a forged letter from Crowley

despite Riddle's strong feelings towards you

(and they are strong)

he's still offended!

all of the loving and tender discipline he's given, and Ace just leaves?

well, he can't stand for that

Riddle marches to Ramshackle, ready for heads to roll, but before he can even knock, you're there, dragging Ace and his things to the door

"oh, thank goodness. TAKE HIM BACK!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona doesn't even notice that Jack has been missing until he passes the spelldrive disc at morning practice and there's no one there to catch it

more of a "huh" reaction

then he forgets about it, takes a nap, and only remembers to ask Ruggie the next morning

"he's been gone for two weeks. he moved to Ramshackle, remember?"

Ramshackle? weird choice, but okay

Jack has always been a little... strange

Leona's reaction is more or less, "huh. nice kid. oh, well,"

but after that, he starts seeing you and Jack together more and more

and he starts to feel... weirdly jealous

it's like he's rubbing it in Leona's face

taking up all your time, always making you smile and laugh...

Jack was never that funny at Savanaclaw

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it takes Azul at least three days to start worrying about Floyd

he and his brother are known to disappear at random

then, the Mostro Lounge has to open an hour late because someone didn't show up for his morning shift

now Azul suddenly can't remember the last time he saw Floyd at the Lounge

after a brief manhunt, he finds Floyd all cozied up on your couch, in your slippers, with a mug of hot chocolate

great

"you cannot transfer dorms by avoiding your old one!"

"exemption!" Floyd says. is he also wearing your robe? "I'm simply a part of the Yuu Admirer Club"

Azul rolls his eyes

...and drags Floyd back to the lounge

after all, if there was such a club, Azul would have been the first to hear of it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil can feel something is off even before Epel is late

and, as always, he's right

Epel misses curfew, and Vil sets out on a mission like a mother hen missing a chick

of course, he knows just where he's hiding

and he lets himself in unannounced

"Epel, here. now,"

the poor boy looks like he's seen a ghost

you're not even involved in the conversation, but Vil's tone alone is enough to send a chill down your spine

"but- but- I got permission! this is the Yuu Admirer Club!"

Vil, of course, has no patience for this

"I gave you no such permission, and there is no such club,"

you can admire them on your own time like the rest of us, he thinks

luckily, Epel is saved

he's not the only member of the club, after all

"now, judge not so quick, dear Roi du Poison! does our admiration for our Trickster not exemplify that of a club?"

"wh- Rook?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

2K notes · View notes

ocaledonia · 29 days

Text

lately i've been doing a lot of thinking about why women are the main supporters of transgenderism, and i think i've boiled it down to three main elements

1. women are socialised to be more accommodating and accepting of uncomfortable situations than men are. this has been discussed at length in the radical feminist tradition and the gender critical movement, but it bears reiterating. women are taught from early childhood to disbelieve their feelings of fear, anger and humiliation for the benefit of men.

2. i'd argue that the description of physical dysphoria is one that almost all women empathise with, because of how alienated women are from their bodies by society, in a way most men are not. even women who would say they are comfortable with their bodies have complicated feelings about having a female body in our society, even if they don't have the framework to express it. therefore, when women are confronted with men who make claims about sex dysphoria, they relate and empathise and some can draw conclusions that this distress aligns them with femaleness (i would argue that all women experience sex dysphoria in a misogynist society like ours but i digress). i think there many women also find solace in the idea that someone else could possibly have their physical distress alleviated and want to believe it is possible to find a solution to it.

In other words, “The body has been made so problematic for women that it has often seemed easier to shrug it off and travel as a disembodied spirit.” - Adrienne Rich

3. women want to believe that male oppression and men aren't really that bad. to comprehend the scale of women's oppression, and to fully understand that the men you know and love are as complicit in it as any other, feels like balancing on the brink of madness. women are desperate for evidence that things aren't as bad as they suspect.

Andrea Dworkin says it best: “Many women, I think, resist feminism because it is an agony to be fully conscious of the brutal misogyny which permeates culture, society, and all personal relationships.”

that is part of the allure of the trans movement for these women in denial. breaking down the categories of male and female, and denying the social dynamics therein, means they don't have to grapple with the ugliness of misogyny.

anyone else have thoughts on this? i'd be keen to hear if others on radblr think

#radblr #radical feminist community #radical feminists do interact #radical feminism #txt #analysis

1K notes · View notes

azullumi · 6 months

Text

"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

3K notes · View notes

pholla-jm · 6 months

Text

Heir

IMAGINE: HEIR ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. fem!reader. not proof read. set in the heian era. true form sukuna. ***************

If someone were to tell Sukuna that in some years that he would have a wife, he would laugh at them… and then kill them.

But here he was, thinking about how his beautiful wife looked with a small bump on her tummy. It’s all he could think about really. Ever since he found out his wife is pregnant, his view of the world changed.

Sure, he still thinks that humans were lowly disgusting vile, but the world seemed like a better place with you and his future child in it.

His every day activities seemed a little less fun now, and all he thought about was getting back home to his wife.

After a day full of people worshiping him and some killing, he made his way back to his castle. Where his wife should be patiently waiting for him.

********

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hear the deep voice of your husband call out causing you to jump a little.

He had found you in a different room. It was bare at first, but you were starting to add things to the room.

You were working on a traditional crib for the baby, having different silks laid out in front of you to choose.

It was a bit early to start getting ready for the baby, but you were too excited.

You turn to look at him. He towered over you, with his four arms crossed as he looked at you with a disappointed look.

“I just want to make sure that the baby’s room is going to be perfect.” You say turning back to the silks.

Sukuna hums, sitting down next to you while observing the objects in front of you.

“How long have you been doing this?” You shrug, “not that long.”

“You could always have the servants do this, you know? You shouldn’t be working so hard.”

“Yeah, I know. I just feel like if I do this myself, it feels more special.”

Sukuna breathes out a happy breath, leaning his chin on one of his fists. He knew that you would make a great mother. Someone that is nurturing, and he knows that his future son will be loved and taken care of.

“Still, you should be taking care of yourself. It’s important that you and our son are completely healthy.”

You perk up hearing the word ‘son’. “Son? It’s a bit too early to know the gender.”

Sukuna just smirks, eyeing you up and down. “Trust me, I know it’s going to be a boy.” You laugh, “oh yeah? How so?”

He points at your belly, “It’s lower. A low stomach means it’s going to be a boy.”

Your eyes widen and you look away from him in disbelief. “Where did you even hear that? I didn’t know you believed in old wives tales anyway.”

“It’s not an old wives tale if it’s the current talk.” “The current talk? What, are you gossiping with the local ladies now?” You laugh at the idea of Sukuna gossiping causing him to frown. “Whatever woman. What they say is true.” “Okay, we’ll see.”

"I don't want you working on this room by yourself anymore. I have to be here to help you, okay?" You nod your head, a bit happy that Sukuna came up with a quick compromise. "Sound good to me. You can do all the heavy lifting."

Sukuna nods, then points at one of the silks that are laid out in front of you. It was a darker colored one, something that you knew he would like. “This one. It’ll be great for our son.”

You decide not to comment on the son thing again. With a smile, you pick it out and put it to the side.

Pushing your hands on the ground, you start to get up from the ground. “What are you doing?” “I have to use the bathroom.” You say. However, Sukuna gets up faster than you. He gently picks you up, carrying you bridal style. “I can walk by myself.” You tell him with a small smile.

You appreciate that Sukuna doted on you like this, but you don’t know how long you would be able to babied like this.

“When I’m around, you’re not doing a single thing. You understand?”

With a content sigh, you relax in his arms. Head resting on his shoulder, hearing the faint sound of his heartbeat.

“Yes, my beloved, I understand.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #oneshot #jjk fluff #jjk #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff

2K notes · View notes

slttygeto · 1 year

Text

to love you is to grow old with you - GOJO. S

synopsis: satoru learns to appreciate the little things in life thanks to you.

c.w: just tooth rotting fluff, wrote this w fem! reader on mind but there are no gendered terms, physical touch being gojo’s love language, slow mornings with pookie bear himself, he deserves all the love.

note: im on a ROLL.

to age is such a blessing and a privilege in itself, and gojo only learns how much he loves it when he notices it on you. it’s not too obvious, he never points it out to you, but over the past couple of years of dating you, he’s noticed a few changes in you, all positive.

your smile lines have gotten deeper with him around, and when he stands in front of the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning to wash his face while you were still fast asleep, he notices how his own dimples have gotten more prominent. he glances at your skin care products and although he appreciates how much you take care of yourself, he is not looking forward for the day where you start buying “anti-aging” cremes or face masks.

he wants the full experience with you, and for the very first time, gojo wants to live for a long time and is certain that he wants to die with you next to him. he doesn’t fear death, he knows it’s inevitable, but something about dying in a boring manner has always irked him—until he met you.

now he doesn’t mind if he gets sick, because he knows you will be there to take care of him. he doesn’t mind when he gets fevers because he knows you’d immediately notice based on his reddened face and would quickly but surely treat his fever and ask him to lie down and be careful, as if the man wasn’t the strongest himself.

he finds himself so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice when you start waking up from sleep and your first instinct is to look for him.

“satoru?” you call out sleepily and satoru snaps out of his thoughts and walks towards your bedroom.

“oh look who’s awake.” he grins when he sees the sleep lines on your arm and face. his hand goes towards your hair as he takes a seat at the edge of the bed and strokes it before leaning in a planting a kiss to your forehead.

“did you sleep well?” he mumbles against your forehead before planting another kiss. “any dreams of me?” another kiss to your nose. “did i look handsome in them?” and another on your cheek before going down to your neck. “were you always my pretty girl in them?” he mumbles against your pulse and you giggle at the ticklish feeling.

“satoruuu,” you whine out loud. “I just woke up,” your hand rests on top of his head when he keeps peppering kisses all over your neck.

“and plus, what were you doing in the bathroom just staring at yourself?” your fingers scratch his scalp and the man immediately melts on top of you, making you lie back down on the mattress.

“i think i changed my mind about aging,” he replies and your other hand rests on the back of his neck before sliding upwards to feel his undercut and scratch the hair there as well.

“changed your mind how?” you feel the man wrap his arms around your middle and pull you tightly towards him. he pushes his face down and plants it on your chest, enjoying the way he gets to hear your heartbeat that seems to have a nice rhythm to it.

“i wanna grow old as long as i get to do it with you,” he mumbles again and his arms unwrap from your middle and you watch as his hands push up the shirt you were wearing to kiss your stomach. “i want us to get wrinkly and ugly together,”

“you can never be ugly,” you say as you roll your eyes at your man but he strongly disagrees and pinches your sides.

“my hairline is receding.”

“please stop taking what nobara tells you so seriously,” you chuckle at how serious he is and a hand rests on his cheek. “in my eyes, you can never be ugly.”

“even when I forget to put my socks in the laundry basket and accidentally use your shower gel?”

“you’re only ugly when you do that.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo drabble #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk season 2

4K notes · View notes

0310s · 3 months

Note

perv!leehan who can’t stop staring at his gf’s boobs 😵‍💫 i feel like he would start bouncing his leg just to try and focus and avoid getting a hard on

members: leehan x gender neutral reader

genre: smut, but intimacy also i promise!!!!

tags: dry humping, breast/nipple play

wc: 2.0k

a/n: anon just know i decided to pull an all-nighter to write this because i couldn't get it out of my head... thank you for this amazing idea.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

During the start of your relationship when you’re still not intimate, Leehan decides to go at your pace; whatever you’re comfortable with dictates how everything else will go. Still, perv!Leehan is easily turned on by you—specifically, your boobs.

Leehan legitimately can’t stop staring at them and it’s becoming a problem, because you never wear a bra around him when he visits you in your apartment! The first time he comes over, he notices something is different about you—then he notices the natural curves of your breasts and wonders about how it would feel like to cup them in his palms. When it’s cold and your nipples poke out from your shirt, Leehan’s mind goes haywire and he can’t stop thinking about taking them into his lips. When you’re cuddled up with Leehan innocently on your bed, Leehan can feel how soft your chest is pressed up against his and has to awkwardly turn his body to the side so you don’t feel his growing hard-on.

One time, when you’re wearing a loose, oversized shirt and lean over him to get something across him, he accidentally gets a peek of your bare chest. It’s only a second, but the flash of round flesh and nipple he sees is imprinted into his mind. He’s incredibly turned on yet immensely guilty. He has nothing to cover his crotch, so he ends up bouncing his leg so hard to will his hard-on away that you have to ask him if he’s alright. He says he is. You won’t know he’ll end up jerking off every night to thoughts of that memory, whether that be by furiously fucking his fist or humping his pillow.

Another time you accidentally brush up against his arm and you squeak, and Leehan is immediately concerned, asking you what’s wrong. Upon more prodding on his end you shyly confess your nipples are sensitive, which sends Leehan down a deeper rabbithole of fantasies about teasing and pinching and and sucking and pulling at your nipples until you’re crying. But the last thing Leehan wants is for you to not feel comfortable and safe in your own body around him, so he gently says it’s alright and that he’ll be more careful next time, not dwelling too much on the topic so you aren’t put on the spot.

Still, you eventually notice Leehan’s staring as it grows more and more frequent and blatant (even if he thinks he’s being subtle about it). So one day in your apartment, when you spot him gazing at your clothed chest with an unreadable expression, you cover your chest with your hands in self-consciousness. Leehan shamefully realizes he’s been caught, so he rushes to beg for your forgiveness with red cheeks—but his heart breaks when you apologize first. “Is there something wrong with my … chest?” you ask, turning away to hide your chest. “You keep staring at them that I’m worried you think they look… weird. I know they’re not perfect or anything… I’m sorry.” And when he hears a sniffle come from you, he feels like the worst boyfriend to exist.

“No, no, love, I’m sorry, I promise it’s not that,” Leehan pleads. Still, you don’t look back. You’re hunched over, rubbing at your eyes while the sniffles continue. “Please… Can you look at me?” You slowly shake your head. Leehan, not wanting the misunderstanding to hurt you even more, takes ahold of your shoulders and gently turns you to face him. “I’m sorry my staring made you uncomfortable, but what you said is so far from the truth. To be honest…” When you look up at him with teary eyes, Leehan knows he has to tell you the truth, even if it’ll mortify him, so he tells you how much your boobs turn him on that he can’t stop looking. His face grows even redder in the wake of his confession and your silence. He’s ready to apologize again and give you space when you let out an “Oh! Oh. Ohhh….” And you end up being extremely shy around each other for the rest of the day.

The first time you let Leehan touch your chest is in the heat of you making out. You’re in Leehan’s lap on your couch and he’s kissing you so sensually you’re becoming lightheaded with pleasure. He’s got one strong arm around your waist, and the other cups your cheek. When he lets go of your face, his hand accidentally brushes against your chest. Leehan’s quick to say sorry and is about to move his hand away, but you clutch his hand in time. You shyly ask him if he wants to touch—while Leehan is so turned on by the thought, he asks you multiple times if it’s something you want and if you’re sure about taking this next step. You admit that ever since the day Leehan told you the truth, you’ve been thinking about it. Extensively.

You lead his hand to touch you; he cups at one clothed breast experimentally, feeling the weight and shape in his hand. You sigh and lean into his touch, and it gives him more courage to explore. He squeezes your chest and you moan, he slowly circles a nipple with a fingernail and you whimper, involuntarily pressing your pussy down on his dick. Leehan can’t believe he’s really touching your boobs, something he’s fantasized about for months on end. As he fondles you, you both desperately grind against each other, and when Leehan firmly sucks at your nipple through your shirt, you gasp in pleasure at how warm his tongue feels against you, even with a layer of cloth obstructing him from your bare skin. The contact is intense and overwhelming to you and you orgasm, Leehan following not long after.

After several repeats of clothed stimulation across weeks, you grow to become more comfortable in your own body. Soon enough, you find the courage to take your top off in the middle of a makeout session with your boyfriend. When you’re free of your shirt, your first instinct is to cover yourself, but you’re unable to when you catch Leehan’s honest reaction. Your tits are face-to-face with Leehan as you kneel on the couch, your thighs on the sides of his own. Your boyfriend’s staring at you with his mouth agape. Your eyes follow his pretty throat bobbing up and down as his stare trails down to your bare chest. Leehan’s silent for a moment as he takes in your soft flesh, memorizing your lovely curves, but eventually breaks the silence by letting out a deep exhale. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, “so pretty for me.”

Your cheeks heat up at his sweet but erotic words, then embarrassment hits you as you register the implications of taking off your shirt so abruptly. You’re about to retreat into your shell of shyness and insecurity, but Leehan holds your wrists firmly, still loose enough so you can break out of his grip if you wished to. “Let me look at you properly, okay?” Leehan glances up at you, waiting for your answer.

You nod once. At your signal, Leehan trails a finger down the side of one breast, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Gorgeous,” he sighs dreamily, “How could you think I wouldn’t find you perfect as you are?” Your boyfriend’s words serve to bolster your confidence as you lean into his touch. Leehan smiles at this, cupping both breasts with his palms, giving you a light squeeze and eyeing your reaction. You melt into his hold.

“More?” You nod again, and he acquiesces. Leehan lightly brushes his pointer finger over a nipple and you gasp at the direct contact. He traces a circle around your slowly stiffening peak, doing the same to its pair and humming in satisfaction when they’re both hard. “Tell me if this is too much, okay?” Monitoring your reaction, he takes one pebbled nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently, then administering the same treatment to the other. They’re indeed sensitive. You let out a high-pitched moan and clap a hand over your mouth in mortification, but Leehan pushes your hand back down. “Don’t hold back… I want to hear your moans when I take care of you like this. Don’t be ashamed—you sound pretty.”

Leehan then uses both hands to tug at your nipples, and you unabashedly whine at the pressure, clutching at his shoulders for support. You squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction—you can feel how wet you already are, your underwear uncomfortably clinging to your folds. At this, Leehan grinds his crotch up into you to remind you he’s perfectly available for your pleasure. You stop kneeling up and drop your hips to grind into Leehan’s cock, and you both moan at the contact. To your surprise, he’s rock-hard… all he’s been doing is touching your chest and he’s already this…?

You must have said that out loud, because Leehan lets out a tiny huff of disbelief. “What do you mean? This is everything I’ve been dreaming about for months, of course I’m turned on.” (The thought that you occupy your boyfriend’s fantasies makes you feel faint.) He gives your nipples another firm twist, and a helpless keen comes out of your mouth. Leehan lets go and observes his work proudly—your nipples are hard and reddened. Still, it’s not enough for you, and you grind your pussy down harder so your boyfriend gets the message. “Can I…?” You thrust your chest into Leehan’s face. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Almost instantly, Leehan takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking slowly. When you tangle a hand in his hair and angle his head closer, he increases the pressure ever so slightly. The firm suction on your nipple feels heavenly, paired with how he lightly teases at your other one with a thumb, while the rest of his hand cradles your ribs. Leehan draws a sob from you as he tongues at your peak, circling it lazily. Looking straight into your eyes, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your puffy nipple, blowing air on it, and you squeal at the sensation. To relieve some of the frustration, you roll your hips insistently against Leehan’s, earning a muffled groan from him and sending a vibration of pleasure through you. He must feel your wetness through your shorts, because the hand on your side tightens minutely and presses you down onto his lap.

When your grip on his hair increases, Leehan turns to your unattended nipple, giving it the same attention as he laves over it sensually. At this point, both of you are rocking frantically against each other, searching for release. The friction is driving you crazy. You greedily wish you had Leehan’s cock deep inside you—you can already imagine the stretch with how long and thick it is from your ceaseless grinding. And when Leehan’s teeth slightly graze your nipple, you let out a loud cry, your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing over you as you grind down once more. Then Leehan freezes, letting out a ragged moan as his hips jerk up harshly once, twice, until he relaxes.

It takes you a minute or two to recover your breath when you realize Leehan probably hasn’t come yet. “Do you need help with—?” When Leehan shakes his head no, you look at him questioningly. Weren’t you on the same page with all this?

Still, Leehan’s response is one you didn’t expect. “Um, I already came,” he says sheepishly. When you tilt your head down, you’re greeted with a sizeable mess at the front of his pants. “Didn’t take much for it to happen… this was too hot.”

“Well. It was. Is. Hot,” you admit, your chest heaving from exertion. “Um. You’re hot.” Could you be any less awkward?

“Oh! You too,” Leehan giggles, sending you one of his signature crescent-eye smiles. Your eyes follow his as they trail down from your face to your chest, which makes you realize you’re still—ashamedly—topless.

“Oh my god!” You rush to shield your chest from view, but Leehan beats you to it, nuzzling his face into the valley of your breasts and inhaling deeply. “Don’t do that, I’m all sweaty…”

“Smells good. Smells like you,” Leehan’s reply is muffled by your chest. He leaves a soft kiss on your sternum and your heart flutters at this display of affection. “You have nothing to be worried about.” You know he means more than just the sex, and for this, you’re infinitely grateful.

866 notes · View notes

devilevlls · 5 months

Text

Lucifer’s lewd habits౨ৎ

Nobody asked for this one, but I can’t stop my mind from wondering about Lucifer’s kinks and preferences, so… I’m posting some of it.

(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) Probably going to make part.2 if I remember more things.

Everything here is consensual. I’m talking about a scenario where both of you are aware of each other’s boundaries.

📌 TW: Shameless smut, explicit descriptions of lustful acts, intercourse.

Tried to keep it gender-neutral.

๋࣭⭑Lucifer is the shameless type of guy, the one that will grip into your hair or neck while you are making out and slowly push you down, asking for a blowjob without words. He won’t stop pushing until you finally reach the goal.

He likes it slow, going deep, and will groan when you suddenly circle your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.

๋࣭⭑I think he is someone who doesn’t like PDA while others are looking, but while in public, without catching any attention, he will twist your nipples over your shirt just to see them hardening. He will chuckle and mock you, whispering into your ear on how easy you are.

๋࣭⭑He will make you beg for him to take you, I’m not saying just playfully, but almost making it annoying/painful. Lucifer is a sadist, so, for him, seeing you actually getting mad for wanting to have sex was pure entertainment.

๋࣭⭑Loves shower sex, Despite his busy schedule, whenever he finds a free moment, he'll send you messages inviting you to shower together.

๋࣭⭑Accidentally spread his wings when too excited or too close to an intense orgasm. He won’t be embarrassed tho, but it can startle you a little o_o

๋࣭⭑Will give you lustful stares when you are talking in public, and will smirk when noticing the growing blush on your cheeks.

๋࣭⭑Purposefully rubs himself against you while “helping” you reach for something and lets you feel his intimacy throbbing with excitement. (I headcanon that the house of lamentation has big furniture, since they are slightly taller than average humans)

๋࣭⭑Loves when you worship his body, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as he observes your lips showering him with kisses.

๋࣭⭑Probably will ask you to kneel down and brushes his shoes against your intimacy, enjoying every whimper, every gasp you let escape from your lips.

๋࣭⭑While being the top, Lucifer will grab your hips with force and slam himself into you repeatedly, just to painfully slow down, making him slide in and out. Will chuckle seeing your needy reactions.

๋࣭⭑If he is the bottom, he will make sure to edge you, circling his hips on your lap slowly, making it go deep and then stop, feeling how your body tense with the feeling of almost reaching the peak and calming down again, never reaching the goal.

Plus for MC's habits with him౨ৎ

๋࣭⭑MC boldly grasps his horns as they engage in heated make out sections, unapologetically reveling in the sensation of pushing him to his limits. They adore the subtle frown that crosses his face as he submits to their dominance, though it's clear he thoroughly enjoys it.

๋࣭⭑Casually grabbing Lucifer’s ass as he walks by or while he is trying to give a serious speech. They would take care not to embarrass him in front of anyone tho, just silly moments where they know this would be possible, and they will only receive a threatening glare from the avatar of pride.

๋࣭⭑Nibbling on his ears. For me, Lucifer is a touch starved old man that gets shivers from almost anything, so nibbling on his ears would make him yelp softly, and he will blush if someone is around and hears it.

๋࣭⭑Will steal pecks from him while he is trying to scold them, making his cold heart melt little by little and as they notice him getting excited, they will rub him over his clothes, making the demon whimper softly.

IDK if there are grammar errors, wasn't really trying hard for this one, just wanted to share my thoughts.

Masterlistɞ 📌

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me one master to rule them all #evllsposts #obey me writing #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #obey me luci x mc #lucifer obey me #om lucifer #obey me hcs #obey me headcanon #obey me smut #obey me swd #obey me x mc

1K notes · View notes

twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 3 days

Note

As an eepy, helpless romantic.. how about a gender neutral reader who secretly loves to sing but rarely does it when they think someone is there. Now imagine their s/o waking to the reader singing to them, so soft yet filled with love and devotion.

For Leona, Jamil, Silver, Malleus, and Jack, please!

Jack Howl:

When you began to sing Jack feared his ear twitch might have alerted you to the fact he was actually awake but it seemed you were too absorbed in your song to notice. He wished you did this more, not wanting to put pressure on you to perform but… When you were good at something, shouldn’t you show it off a bit more? He didn’t mean for you to turn it into a job. Even if he was your audience he thinks it would be nice, wondering if there was a way for him to bring the topic up without embarrassing you.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil had to admit he didn’t know you had it in you. There was a natural melodic quality to your voice, in his opinion, but it didn’t mean he knew you had this hidden talent. While the sound is quite relaxing it’s the lyrics that leave him feeling unsettled. A confession in metaphors but a confession nonetheless, admiring him and his beauty, relating to the peaceful moment you were having now. He struggled to relate the song to himself but your lyrics were undeniably about him, for him, even if you didn’t realize he was listening.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona didn’t interrupt, never letting you know he had woken up while you were singing. There had been a handful of times where he’d heard the pleasant sound of your voice drifting down the halls but you always stopped the moment you knew he was nearby; he suspected he only heard you at all because his hearing was sharper than the average person. He thought it was a pleasant way to fall asleep, yet he couldn’t ignore the love behind your words, the way your fingers stroked through his hair carefully to not wake him. It’s hard to drift off to sleep after these revelations, as for once reality felt better than his dreams.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus feels as if you’re putting a spell on him, leaving him frozen in time but rather than feeling uncomfortable, it was like you had wrapped a warm blanket around him. He can’t recall ever hearing you sing before, wondering how often you did it. Did you do it while doing chores, or practicing magic? Were you a natural since you were young or had it required practice? He has so many questions to ask yet he felt too weary to do so, just wanting to keep his eyes closed to enjoy your song a few moments longer.

Silver:

Your song is so calming Silver felt he might fall into an eternal slumber, forever surrounded by your voice in an endless dream. His eyelids felt heavy as your words floated through him, taking time to truly listen to what you were singing about. Had he done anything to deserve your devotion? To have you see him in such a shining light that it was as if he could do no wrong? Silver can’t stop himself from opening his eyes, glancing over at your flustered face when you apologized for waking him. He shook his head with a soft smile, asking if you could sing it again for him.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Leona Kingscholar #Malleus Draconia #Jack Howl #Jamil Viper #TWST Silver #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Jack Howl x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Silver x Reader

610 notes · View notes

tunafruitt · 8 months

Text

--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞

SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3

[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]

Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO

-> [ DOTTORE ]

“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”

The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.

Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.

No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)

When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3

In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.

─ִ━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ─

You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.

You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.

You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???

And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.

“I can hear you, Y/N.”

“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”

“Good morning.”

“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”

“Are you asking because I have a choice?”

Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—

“Doctor, the segments have finished—“

“Oh.”

-> [ XIAO ]

“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”

So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)

Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)

Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)

The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..

…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!

─ִ━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ─

“Xiao! I found you.”

As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.

“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”

“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”

You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”

“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”

“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”

“… Y-Y/N..”

“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”

FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin xiao #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #dottore #genshin harbingers #genshin #gender neutral reader #yayyy #tunafruitt #xiao x reader #dottore x reader #genshin sagau

1K notes · View notes

malleleothreesome · 11 months

Text

Malleus who is pining after you...

🩷 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Malleus would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 🩷 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts, lots of romance, fluff, pining, and there is a single smut paragraph with masturbation as he reads a romance novel in the library ༶༶༶ 🩷 word count: 3.1k because he's the love of my life

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… confused, and left with no other option but to approach (a proud, hysterically laughing) Lilia, begging for an explanation as to why he feels so weak in your presence. Pouting as he awkwardly opens up to the old bat about how when he’s with you, his heart races and he stumbles over his words, even though he’s used to being so sure of himself. He trained diligently to be calm and collected as a future King should be, so why is it that a magicless human is able to bring him to his knees seemingly without even trying? How come none of his previous favorite activities feel as good as daydreaming about you or spending time with you?

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… now feeling more assured after his conversation with Lilia. Coming to terms with the fact that even someone like him can feel love, and it happened sooner than he ever anticipated. Still nervous and unsure of his feelings, but no longer afraid. He feels grateful that he could be gifted with such potent and beautiful emotions for the first time in his life, and he’s especially happy that he fell in love with someone as amazing as you. Now that he’s in love, he wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… mind in a constant state of disarray after being swept up in your hurricane. Battling against himself ceaselessly to stay focused on the task at hand as his thoughts desperately crawl their way back to you in spite of his better judgment. No matter what he’s doing, he can’t help but fantasize about what it would be like if you were there with him. As his pen taps against the paper on his table, his breathing quickens, unable to stop himself from wondering what it would be like to look over at you studying right alongside him, instantly enchanting the monotonous task with your bright presence. If he’s in a store, he always spends extra time looking around for objects you might like, smiling to himself as he imagines your reaction. If he’s in a conversation, he thinks about how you might interject, and how the conversation would be better thanks to your input. When he’s happy, he wants you to be the first one to know, hoping he could share in his excitement alongside you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… coming to terms with the highs and lows of loving someone who doesn’t know you love them. Pacing around his room, celebrating and replaying all the moments he made you smile. Hyping himself up whenever you ask him to spend time alone. He also chastises himself whenever you two share an awkward moment, or if he makes a joke that doesn’t land, letting the moment haunt him. Wishing he had done things differently, reassessing the situation and himself so that he could grow into someone worthy of you. The most dreadful moments are times he sees you having fun without him, getting dragged along by your other friends. Jealousy and despair rage through his veins as he works to convince himself not to feel angry toward you, reassuring himself that you don’t know any better – it was an honest mistake. You simply don’t realize how much it means to him to be in your presence, because he’s too afraid to let you know. He’s too afraid to gamble your love, only wanting to confess when he’s sure you have the highest chance of accepting him. He’s not willing to go back to a life without the love he feels for you. Tears well up in his eyes as he retires early to his bed, desperately wishing you would hold him in your arms and take the pain away. Longing to hear that you love him, too – that he doesn’t have to feel this way anymore. Closing his eyes and letting the tears fall like silent prayers, hoping with every fiber of his being that you won’t curse him to a lifetime without your precious affection.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… randomly showing up at Ramshackle dorm. He’ll use any excuse in the book to show up unexpectedly, at the very least, hoping to see your face, but also betting on the fact that you’ll invite him in. He’ll ask to borrow items a fae wouldn’t need. He’ll steal things from your backpack just so he can return them. He hopes he can catch you alone, so that maybe he can get closer to you, or at least learn something new. There are also times where doesn’t want to bother you, but feels too weak-willed to deny his overwhelming desire to bask in your presence. He stands outside, taking solace in being close to you, even if you don’t realize it. Letting a comfortable sense of calm come over him as he stands outside under the moonlight, feeling the breeze through his hair, content to know that you’re upstairs sleeping peacefully in your room. Taking care to protect your building just like a gargoyle would. He’s convinced himself that Diasomnia is simply too far away from where you are, and what if something happened to his beloved child of man and he wasn’t there to protect you? Such a thing would torment him as long as he lived. So, he stands guard outside your room, just in case you need anything. He can at least do that much. He feels honored to be your protector, even though you’re completely unaware.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… sitting beside you on a bench outside. His whole being overcome with butterflies, heart pounding out of his chest, feeling lightheaded as your hand slaps his thigh – your head thrown back in laughter from what he just said. He’s completely captivated as your melodic laugh reverberates through his soul. Unable to stop glancing at the way your thigh presses against his, feeling the electricity as your shoulders brush. Trying to memorize the way you look and sound in this very moment. He feels the air leave his lungs as your eyes meet his. Feeling like time has stopped as he stares into your eyes, trying to commit their beauty to memory. He feels his cheeks flush as he quickly turns away, not wanting you to see how flustered he is. You grab his shoulder, laughing, pulling him back toward you as you ask him to tell another story. He grins, trying to remember what it was like to breathe normally, and he obliges your request. A moment has never felt so magical, and he swears he'll remember the feeling until his last breath.

🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… spending hours in the library after class reading romance novels as a form of research for how he can make the best possible impression on you. He originally read these books out of necessity, desperately trying to avoid going to Lilia for more intimate advice. However, he finds far more enjoyment in the books than he anticipated, getting giddy over the words on the page as he imagines the story unfolding with the two of you as the protagonists. His eyes widen and his body temperature flushes hot when the tale takes an explicit turn, finding it harder and harder to keep his composure as he reads further. Feeling his throat go dry at the thought of doing such things with you, he tries to calm himself down, fanning his face with the book. He imagines the way your lips would taste and the softness of your skin, how you might sound moaning his name, how it would feel to be inside of you. He can hardly stand the tension as he reaches down and palms his lonely cock through his pants, letting a desperate moan escape from his lips as he struggles to hold himself back. He quickly looks around to make sure no one is there, then returns his attention to the book. He almost feels guilty for imagining his innocent beloved in such a naughty way. He wants nothing more than to be respectful to you, so it seems wrong to undress you and pleasure you in his mind, yet his needy, aching cock convinces him otherwise. He closes his eyes and continues to massage himself through his clothes as he lets the scene unfold in his mind. He imagines how you would look beneath him, panting and writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into you. He wonders if you would like it if he were to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer as you ride him, or if you would prefer if he were to pin your arms above your head while he fucked you into the mattress. His breathing quickens as his fantasy intensifies, feeling his body tighten up as he nears his climax. The pleasure is so intense, he feels unable to stop himself from going over the edge despite the uncomfortable circumstances. He lets out a quiet groan as his hips involuntarily thrust into his hand, feeling himself release into his pants. As he comes back to reality, his face burns red in embarrassment at the fact that he just did that in the library, but also with the realization that he wants to do all of that and more with you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… sitting down with Sebek’s parents to interview them about their human/fae relationship. He wants to feel completely prepared and educated about all the pros and cons. He desperately wants to have the best chance of winning your affection. He asks them what it was like when they first met, how they handled the differences in their species, and how they confessed their love. He wants to know everything. He listens intently to every word, taking detailed notes and asking questions when he doesn’t understand. He asks about the most challenging parts of their relationship, and how they overcame them. He asks how they knew their love was true, and how they know it still is. He wants to feel as confident as possible that he can make this relationship work, because he knows it will be his last. If he loses you, he would never be able to love another, so he needs to take all the steps possible to ensure a life by your side. He desperately wishes his own parents could have been alive to walk him through it, but in their absence, he is grateful to have the first couple of their kind as a support network. He thanks them profusely, even going as far as to hug them and offer gifts, insisting on returning their time and effort tenfold for the advice and kindness they gave him. Sebek's doting mother cries a little, telling him that he has grown into a fine young man, and that he deserves to find happiness. The fae Prince flushes in embarrassment, offering her a heartfelt thanks and bowing his head respectfully. As Sebek's parents see him out, they tell him that if he ever needs anything, they're there for him, and to not hesitate to contact them if he has any questions. They can't help but smile to themselves as they watch the normally confident Malleus walk away, his shoulders and head drooped down in nervousness as he contemplates his future. They hope that you and him will find eternal bliss in each other's embrace.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… walking around Briar Valley, getting to know his future subjects. He wants to know how his fae subjects feel about the presence of humans, how they might feel if there were to be a human ruler alongside him, and if they would be willing to accept a human/fae child as their next heir. He will do what it takes to prepare his subjects for the new age, trying to get ahead of any problems before they arise. He is especially curious about the older generations, and what they might think of him as a leader. He doesn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and he wants to honor his parents' legacy by creating a safe, secure future for their kind. He wants to bring about a world where humans and fae can coexist, where children of both species can grow up with mutual respect. He goes out of his way to form relationships with the humans who reside in Briar Valley, diligently learning how best he can serve them as the future King. His purpose is to make his kingdom a safe haven for humans to live in hopeful anticipation that you'll one day soon choose to live there with him. He listens to his human subjects' concerns, offering advice on their difficulties, and promising to enact new legislation that would benefit them. He makes it abundantly clear that he values the human residents of his kingdom and is committed to ensuring that their lives are better than they were before. He tells them that their children will not only be able to live in harmony with the fae, but that they will thrive. He wants to give them a world that you would be proud to call home. He is eager to show you that he can be a great King, and that he is worthy of your love and affection. He feels a sense of pride when he sees the humans' faces light up as he shares his plans for the Kingdom once he takes the crown.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… appearing before his grandmother Maleficia’s throne, secure and ready to finally confess to you. Unwilling to let anything else stand in his way, he begins telling her – not asking her – with the utmost respect and authority, leaving no room for discussion that he has fallen hopelessly in love with a human. He needs her to trust him – her only grandson – as he gives his heart and devotion to a member of the very species that took everything from her. His hands are shaking yet his eyes never falter, his determination to love you against all odds burning bright in his heart. He has made up his mind and he won't be taking any objections. He tells her about you, your kindness, your charisma, and your integrity. He wants her to know how lucky he is that a pure-hearted being like you would have chosen someone like him to befriend, to place your faith and trust in. He eagerly explains all the ways you've changed him for the better, and how he wants to devote his life to protecting you, and growing by your side. There has never been another that can light up the night sky with the same level of brightness as your beautiful smile, or whose laugh could fill the vast empty space between the stars. He tells her he wants to give you the best life he can possibly provide, and he hopes she will come to accept and love you just as he has. She sits in shock, unable to respond. The anger she feels is indescribable, as she can't believe her grandson, her own flesh and blood, could betray her and his mother like this. She thought she raised him better than this – to be stronger than the temptation of a human. And now, he stands before her, looking her dead in the eye and telling her he wants to be with one of them. She can't bear the thought of losing him, yet she knows it's inevitable if she were to deny him his wish. The look in his eyes is something she has never seen in him before – pure conviction. She can’t control him any more. His love for you has given him a strength she never knew he had. As much as she hates to admit it, he is happier than she's ever seen him. The confidence in his voice, the glimmer in his eye, the determination in his step – it reminds her of her daughter. Malleus always bore a striking resemblance to his mother, but he has never looked more like her than he does right now, defying Maleficia's wishes in pursuit of happiness. She knows she can't change his mind, so she sighs and waves her hand dismissively, telling him he can do as he pleases. The anger in her veins dissipates as Malleus begins to walk out of the throne room, and she feels compelled to tell him how proud his mother would be, despite it all. She tells him that his mother hated humans, but she loved him more. Malleus can't help the tears that escape his eyes, thanking his grandmother for her blessing, feeling accomplished and complete. Now all that's left is to tell you.

🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… breathes new life into the cold castle, ready to fill the halls back up with love for the first time in centuries. Gazing up at the blank castle walls, smiling to himself as he imagines them adorned with picture frames of the two of you on your wedding day, or of you holding your child together for the first time, or even just simple, happy memories like picnics or holidays. He feels warmth in his chest as he pictures the two of you standing by the window, admiring the sunset and reminiscing on all the years you've spent together. For the first time in his life, he comes to see the castle not as a prison, but as a home. A place where the two of you will live out the rest of your days, raising children, and creating beautiful memories that will be cherished forever. Every room he passes elicits a lovely new vision. He steps into the study, one of his favorite places as a child, running his fingers along the ancient bookshelves, excited at the prospect of rereading old favorites with your head nestled under his arm, the two of you snuggled up on the cozy couch. He peeks his head into the ballroom and music begins playing in his head as he imagines holding you close, feet gliding as you two spin around the room, the candles surrounding the area casting a perfect glow on your blissful smiles, as you lose yourself in each other's eyes. In the dining room, he envisions the two of you sitting across from each other at the grand dining table, flashing flirty eyes in each other's directions, stealing the last bite from each other's forks with kisses and laughs. As he wanders aimlessly through the long, winding hallways, the past merges with his vision of the future, and the two mix perfectly. It's difficult to feel alone anymore. It's no longer the chilled, looming emptiness that Malleus knew before. Now, it's a sacred, protected place that is waiting for your life, and love, to be poured into the rooms until it's finally brimming with the warmth and laughter of family again. All you have to do is say yes.

Oop, I just spent the past 8 hours straight working on this start to finish. Idk if I'm proud of it. I am exhausted. Usually I write complete stories, but I wanted to try my hand at writing my thoughts in a more raw format. If my editor were here, she would never allow me to write paragraphs this long, but I don't feel like waiting for her to edit. It's 2 am and I just want to free myself and release this into the world. Hopefully I don't regret this in the morning. Sorry for any grammar mistakes or weirdly long sentences. If you enjoyed, first of all, thank you! Second of all, if you want more content like this, please let me know! Currently, I only write for Malleus, Leona, & Fellow but feel free to come convince me in my ask box to get invested in other characters. I’d love to hear your thoughts about your faves or my faves. 🩷 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia smut #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #malleyuu #twst imagines #my writing

3K notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 13 days

Note

housewardens + Jamil (separately) with a reader who is their s/o and reader is low-key their simp

like they won't worship the ground they walk on, but they just.. admire..??

like reader and the character will be hanging out, on a date, or in class or something and reader just sighs dreamily and looks at them with a look of like "im the luckiest person alive." because they love them so much

and if caught the reader won't be embarrassed and will just be like "you're so pretty." or "I'm so happy we're dating"

ik it's cringe lol but if I had one of these men as my boyfriend (cough Idia cough) I would literally just admire them so much because I love them so much and they're so freaking pretty

SWEEEEP I love fluff I love a healthy couple

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ abject admiration

summary: close enough. welcome back gomez addams! type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, FLUFFY!, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

Riddle used to hate being stared at. it felt like judgment, like he was being put on trial for something he didn't do. as if the world was just... waiting for him to make a mistake so it could punish him. the first time he catches you staring, long before you were together, he almost had your head for it. now, the feeling of your eyes on him has become a comfort, though your words of admiration, your praises and affection, still make him blush

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona couldn't even remember the last time his parents told him they loved him. so when he hears it from you, his first instinct is to push you away. he thinks it's justified; you must want something, I mean, who would be so nice to him for no reason?

well, you. you would

he'd never admit it, but these days, he goes out of his way to do nice things for you, to make himself look and smell good, just to get more of your praises

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"you're so beautiful" and Azul crumbles. as cunning as he is, you could have him eating out of the palm of your hand if you really wanted to. he considers himself a fortunate soul, because all you ask for in return is his time and affection

your compliments are better than any deal, your voice more melodious than any song. the very thought that you think he is pretty... him, of all people... well, you could bring him to his knees with a word

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

fawning over Kalim is absolutely impossible. he's not competitive by nature, but what you give him, he gives back ten times over. one kiss turns into ten, two gifts into twenty, and, of course, one praise turns into an entire soliloquy. you're lucky to have him? he's luckier than the richest man in the world, the most powerful mage, he insists even the Sorcerer of the Sands himself would fall to his knees and weep if he were to see your beauty. you're his sun, his moon, and his stars, and he never lets you forget it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil had never been in love, let alone in a relationship, before you. you're his first everything... and that means you're his first admirer, too. honestly, he's not really sure whether to believe you or not at first. "I'm so happy we're dating," surely, you're not talking about him...?

but you are. he can't even fathom why, but you are

...sometimes, it's better not to question everything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil gets his fair share of compliments, and rightfully so. he's put in the work, he deserves the recognition. and, for Seven's sake, Rook is his vice housewarden- he can't escape compliments

but... somehow, they're so much different coming from you. maybe it's the way you say things, soft and gentle and full of admiration, maybe it's your voice, or maybe it's just because it's you. because he knows that when you say you're happy with him, you mean him, not the brand, not the image, not what he's expected to be. just... him. it's true love

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia.exe has stopped working

even after months of dating, you still manage to catch him off guard with your "cringe couple stuff", as he calls it. it's... very distracting. you'll be mid-game, staring at him, and when he asks if you hit your head on the way in, you'll say something like "just thinking about how pretty you are" and his brain will short circuit. it's too bad he can't patch that... he'd love to respond without melting into an Idia-shaped puddle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

being head over heels for Malleus is both a blessing and a curse. on one hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. on the other hand, he'll reciprocate that energy. even a simple "you look nice today" sends him over the moon with joy, and he will unapologetically cling to your side like the needy thing he is for the rest of the day, glaring at anyone who dares to take your attention off of him for more than twelve seconds. but, hey, you know what you like. you agreed to date him in the first place, after all

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

1K notes · View notes

ham1lton · 5 months

Text

QUESTION TIME?

pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.

warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.

summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.

author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3

“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”

the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.

sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.

taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."

you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."

pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."

as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.

the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."

you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"

he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."

you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."

after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.

“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”

he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."

lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."

you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.

“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.

when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.

“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”

“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”

“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”

his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.

“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”

with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.

“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”

“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”

she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.

as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.

#jayde’s works ☆#maneater ꕤ #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lh44 x reader

839 notes · View notes