#Like acknowledging that even if you are not who you once were you can and often do still carry parts of them with you
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DAYDREAMIN’ — kim minjeong x f!reader
being forced to marry someone was lunacy, or at least minjeong thought so. how could a mere stranger be her lifelong partner? it was simply impossible (well, not until you came along).
TAGS — fluff, pinch of angst, arranged marriage!au, ceo!minjeong, cold!minjeong, strangers to lovers, making out at the end, silly!yn
WORDCOUNT — 3.8k
you rub your hands gingerly around the ceramic mug filled with warm tea. your footsteps resound against the cold hardwood floors, the sound dampened by the fluffy dog slippers you were wearing. finally reaching the door at the end of the hallway, you take a deep breath and peer into the room through the crack left open.
“winter?” you whisper, scared to alert the girl working tirelessly at her desk. the woman perks up, an eyebrow raised as she shoots daggers at your cowering figure.
“yes?” her voice remains steely, cold.
the mug in your hands feels cooler than before.
“i made you some tea, it’s chamomile,” you say, nervously taking small steps closer to her. minjeong stands up from her desk, eyebrows furrowed and an annoyed look remains on her face.
she reaches out a hand to take the mug, her face scrunching as she feels the warmth of the mug.
“thank you,” minjeong replies quietly, taking her seat at the desk again. nodding, you turn around to leave. as your fingers swirl around the door knob, you hear minjeong’s aloof voice, “knock the next time you come in.”
your head swerves around.
“yes, winter.”
at the corner of your eye, you spot minjeong’s satisfied smile as she sips on the tea happily. an unfamiliar feeling blooms in your chest. it’s almost akin to pride. due to minjeong’s usual unfriendly and aloof nature, making her smile was abnormal. all you could do was savour the moment and go on with your day.
meanwhile, minjeong leans back in her office chair, taking in small gulps of the tea as her free hand works busily on the keyboard. she scrolls down, eyes catching the stray title of an email.
‘re: invitation to dinner.’
her eyes narrow warily. clicking on the email, minjeong reads the rough synopsis. after doing so, her hand inches towards her phone, dialling her father’s number hastily. for a few moments, the phone continues ringing. minjeong almost gives up until he finally picks up.
“good evening, it is quite late, minjeong.”
minjeong rolls her eyes. “i know but i wanted to tell you this in person. i do not want to attend that dinner.”
her father makes a noise of indignation.
“it is an obligation. you cannot reject this.”
“i can and i will, father. you have made me marry into a loveless marriage and you still want more?” minjeong questions incredulously, “i am afraid i do not have more to give. on sunday i will have a business meeting to attend instead. i am not available.”
the man on the phone sighs, “it does not matter. you have agreed to the principles of the situation. the union between our families have helped your company tremendously, have they not?”
minjeong scowls, but she does not deny that the marriage has helped her company flourish, “it was barely an agreement, more of a forceful acknowledgement.”
“then acknowledge this once more,” her father’s voice becomes more and more stern, “she is your wife. not a maid, not a random person who has barged into your life.” minjeong disagrees. you were quite literally a random person who barged into your life.
“does she not treat you well? do you not have the basic courtesy to show your own gratitude? or are you going to remain as cold as people make you out to be?” her father hits a soft spot. if there was one thing winter hated, it would be people judging her based on her looks. she admits, she does look rather unwelcoming at times. but treating her own wife as such, wasn’t that proof of her unfriendliness?
you hadn’t treated her badly, but she can sense the fear in your eyes whenever you interact with her, scared that somehow she’ll treat you like a stranger. it feels nice that even with your fear, you still try your best to make the most out of this situation. minjeong should do the same. it’s only basic courtesy, as her father said.
“i am sure that the girl we have chosen for you will make a good wife. this will not be a loveless marriage if you open your eyes.”
“fine,” minjeong says through gritted teeth, “i’ll see you on sunday.”
“of course you will. good night, minjeong.”
“good night, father.”
you could say it was the best sleep you’ve ever had. finally relieved the burden of annoying winter, you went to bed content and calm. stretching out your arms, you gaze at the clock hung on the wall. it was barely eight and minjeong was still awake at one when you visited her. maybe you could make breakfast for her before she wakes up.
huffing with determination, you get out of bed and ready yourself. after taking a shower, you head down the stairs, eyes squinting at the figure in the living room.
“good morning,” minjeong says quietly. she’s sitting on the couch, watching the news. you’re stunned at the sudden appearance of her. you didn’t expect that she would be awake at this time.
“good morning,” you finally respond, conscious of the way your cheeks burned. minjeong paid you no mind like always. walking towards the kitchen, your eyes widen at the food spread out on the kitchen island. you hear footsteps approaching behind you.
her voice reaches your ears gently, “thank you for the tea last night. i made you breakfast as a thank you.”
“ah…” you can’t stop yourself from smiling, “thank you.” even though you can spot some edges of the toast being burnt, you felt gratitude simmering at minjeong’s kind action.
taking a bite of the toast, you resist the urge to grimace at the smoky taste. minjeong looked genuinely concerned for her cooking skills. you reassure her by putting up a thumbs up. the tips of her lips twitch ever so slightly but you consider it a win.
as you’re devouring your breakfast, minjeong clears her throat. you turn to her, cheeks stuffed with bread.
“are you available on sunday?” she asks, “my father has arranged a dinner with our families.”
you try to recall if you had anything going on.
“yeah, i think i’m free.”
minjeong nods.
“what restaurant are we going to?” you ask.
your wife shrugs, “probably a random restaurant in a hotel. my father likes those.”
“don’t you have a meeting on that day though?”
minjeong’s eyes nearly protrude out of her head. “how do you know that?”
you laugh, “i saw your business calendar. it’s with sung hanbin’s company right?”
“yes,” minjeong notes your expectant look and adds on, “we’re discussing a potential partnership. he has a branch in china and we were considering expanding there.”
your genuine interest catches her off guard, “oh yeah! zhanghao! we have mutual friends.” minjeong hums. maybe your mutual friendship could help her company.
“interesting.”
you finish up your last piece of toast, letting out a pleased sigh. minjeong chuckles but the moment is disrupted by a notification ringing from her phone.
as she’s reading, her eyebrows furrow again. you withstand from smoothening them out.
“what’s up?”
minjeong groans, “stupid aeri wants me to go get dog food for her pets. cooper and lily are apparently protesting against the new kibble she bought for them.”
your eyes light up.
“do you want to go get it together? i wanna visit cooper and lily too,” you hastily inject, scared that minjeong would sense your excitement on spending one-on-one time with her.
“sure, whatever. i can’t believe she’s is too lazy to get it herself.”
you giggle, “gigi’s probably just hanging out with somi or ning.”
minjeong bites the inside of her cheek hearing you call her friends using nicknames. it makes her stomach twist uncomfortably. you only knew aeri and yizhuo after meeting them at the engagement party, one that minjeong was unaware of. she had arrived home after a long day at work and right smack in the living room was a three-tier cake with balloons surrounding it. her friends had sprayed her with confetti and startled by the noise, you had rushed down from your room, thinking someone had broken in with the way minjeong was yelling.
it would have been funny if minjeong wasn’t the victim of a near heart attack. but after that, you had so easily started conversing with her friends, blending into their group seamlessly. maybe she was jealous of the way you managed to befriend people so easily while it took her a long time to open up to somebody. or maybe she was jealous that you were talking to them instead of her with that pretty smile of yours—
“right,” she mutters. unaware of minjeong’s inner turmoil, you beam brightly at her, “let’s go now if you’re ready?”
“yes, i’m ready. let’s head out now.” minjeong should rid herself of these weird thoughts.
you smile again. minjeong’s heart nearly stops. perhaps she’s going crazy.
“are you driving? or is mr lee driving us?” you ask as you put on your shoes. minjeong twirls the car keys in her hand, showing it off to you.
“you’ve never driven me before, are you sure i’m safe?” you tease. minjeong’s face turns a sheen of light pink, you think it’s adorable.
“i’m an excellent driver,” she states. you nudge her in the ribs as she walks to the garage.
she squirms cutely away from your attacks. you can conclude that your wife is ticklish.
or maybe everything she does is suddenly cute to you.
“how long is it going to take?” you ask while entering the car.
“around ten minutes, not long,” minjeong starts the engine, turning to you with a look of frustration.
next, she does something completely unimaginable.
reaching over your lap, she pulls the seatbelt down, fastening it for you. your cheeks instantly turn a bright red at her close proximity. you can almost feel her warmth, so unlike the coldness she exudes. it makes your heart flutter.
“do you normally not fasten your seatbelt? it’s dangerous,” she states, disapproval written on her face.
“i forgot about it,” you scoff, “but where did you learn how to flirt like that?”
minjeong temporarily pauses, eyes enlarged, “flirt?”
“you made my heart race,” you sigh, “c’mon, reaching over me to help me put on my seatbelt? that’s a k-drama move.”
your wife turns crimson. her icy exterior finally melts away.
“i— that wasn’t on purpose!” she splutters, turning back to focus on driving. if she doesn’t stop reacting so cutely, you might never stop teasing her.
you understand now why jimin had said she liked teasing minjeong for her reaction.
meanwhile, minjeong tries to calm herself down. she wasn’t flirting right? she was just trying to look out for your safety! if something happens, she wouldn’t want to take the blame for it.
maybe her heart did race when she leaned over you, but anyone’s heart would do the same! close proximity of another person always made her nervous.
noting minjeong’s pink cheeks, you decide to give her a break and instead start shuffling the songs in her playlist. humming to them throughout the ride, it makes the drive duration considerably shorter as minutes after, minjeong parks the car.
“we’re here,” she announces. after getting out of the car, you stare at minjeong, wondering when you got so bold with your teasing. normally, you would never dare to do this to her, scared of her reaction. but with the morning’s conversation and her changed personality, you were no longer afraid of her cold and aloof words.
“is this the brand aeri wants?” minjeong asks, pointing to a large bag of kibble seated on the shelf. you try to recall.
“i think so, she mentioned it before.”
minjeong nods. you try to pull it off the shelf, but the sheer size of it makes you tumble. warm, large hands immediately reach out to steady you, holding your body with care that you’ve never felt in your life.
“a-ah…”
your wife retracts her hands, but instead of putting them at her side, she places them on your shoulders, “are you okay?”
unable to say words without your voice shaking, you settle for a nod. minjeong removes her hands and takes the bag from you.
“be careful next time. let me carry the heavy things.”
you only follow her like a puppy. aeri better appreciate the kibble after all the heart attacks you’ve been through. first fastening your seatbelt, then doing this? was minjeong some sort of play girl that knew how to play with people’s feelings?
“—hey,” she flicks your forehead, “are you listening to me?” you stumble back at the impact, wincing from the pain. pouting, you ask, “what were you saying?”
“i was asking you if you knew what to wear on sunday.”
“oh, i haven’t decided yet.” minjeong takes her card out to pay. as you wonder about your outfit, the cashier swiftly bags the kibble and bows, “thank you! and you two make a cute couple.”
your eyes turn as large as saucers. minjeong stops, but sends a timid smile, “thank you.”
she carries the bag in one hand and grabs you with the other, leading you out of the store. if it weren’t for the interaction between minjeong and the cashier, you would applaud your wife’s strength.
“what was that?” you blurt out as you settle into the car.
“hm? are we not a cute couple?”
you can’t deny that.
minjeong laughs, a heavenly sound that you would cherish for the rest of your life.
your wife was a mystery, you admit. maybe you would be the one to solve her.
between the impromptu errand and the sunday dinner, your bond with minjeong had considerably become closer. slowly but surely, she was no longer stiff and reserved but rather… silly. her actions were strange and eccentric but in an endearing way. you couldn’t help but find her cute. with a stronger friendship, you learnt many things about your wife. apparently she was allergic to tomatoes, which is a fact you stored in your memory in case you cooked for her.
she also liked harry styles a lot. you feel rather envious the way her eyes light up and her smile stretches whenever she hears his music. her family is from busan and sometimes when she calls her mother, you hear hints of her busan accent slip out. minjeong had revealed that she slowly weakened her accent when talking to people in seoul, scared they wouldn’t understand her. after you complimented how attractive and sweet it sounded, minjeong started using it more.
you had also moved into minjeong’s room. after falling asleep in her bed countless times watching dramas, minjeong had just moved your clothes in hers. it was comforting having a warm body to cuddle up to. minjeong didn’t seem to mind anyway.
“winter,” you call out, “does this look nice?” another new development. normally, when you two used to go for family dinners and meetings, you would just put on any other dress and call it a day. but now, ever since winter had made an offhand comment about matching clothes, you decided to call for her opinion. minjeong was forced to sit on the bed and wait for you. as you twirl out of the walk-in closet, minjeong gapes.
“that looks,” minjeong gulps, “great.” you turn to her, grinning, “you look good too.” she stands up and fixes stray strands of your hair.
“you smell nice,” you remark, taking in minjeong’s scent. it was all over her. from the crook of her neck to her fingertips.
“it’s jo malone, jimin unnie recommended it to me.”
you perk up, “blackberry and bay, right? she told me to buy it too.”
minjeong scratches her nape, “i was just trying something new today.” you adore her timid and shy personality. behind all that coldness was just a soft and bashful girl.
she leads you to the car, opening it and greeting the chauffeur inside. you adjust the strap of your black dress. minjeong notices and helps you, leaving lingering hot touches on your shoulders.
the warmth of her hands makes blood rush up to your neck. you silently pray minjeong doesn’t notice the redness residing there.
“mrs kim, we have arrived,” the chauffeur says. minjeong opens the car door, assisting you in getting out. you enjoy the feel of her hand in yours.
“woah,” you gasp at the size of the hotel. minjeong groans, “i hope he hasn’t booked a room here for us.”
you smile, cheekily poking her in the ribs, “it would be fun staying here alone.”
“sure,” she snorts as you enter the hotel, beelining to the restaurant. the waitress at the front leads you two into a private room near the back and minjeong internally groans at how her father stares at your intertwined hands.
you take a seat, pulling minjeong to sit down beside you.
“you’ve finally warmed up, haven’t you?” minjeong’s father whispers.
she remains silent, unwilling to admit that somehow, you have managed to gnaw at the walls surrounding her heart, capturing it for yourself to keep. and somehow, it is so unlike her, that she wants you to keep it.
“how has marriage been treating you?” your mother asks.
you answer, “winter is really sweet to me. it’s nice being married.”
“winter?” your wife’s mother repeats. she turns to minjeong, aghast, “you do not let her call you ‘minjeong’?”
your wife, equally alarmed, instantly denies it, “of course not. we just aren’t used to calling each other’s names so casually.”
“but you are married.”
you mentally curse yourself for forgetting about how you still don’t call minjeong by her birth name.
“you mean to say that you aren’t close enough to drop the honorifics?” her father asks. minjeong repeatedly shakes her head.
“we are close, we just haven’t called each other by our names yet.” at this point, minjeong is digging your graves.
“no pet names either? back when your mother and i were first married, we had all sorts of names for each other! like ‘honeyboo’, ‘sweetheart’—”
you interrupt loudly, “okay, dad! we get it!”
minjeong’s hand slithers back into yours, gripping onto it for comfort.
“we’ll sort all these out later, but can we just eat first please? i’m starving.” your parents compose themselves while minjeong’s father glares at her.
your wife lets out a relieved sigh after they stop interrogating you.
“i’m sorry about that,” you mutter to her.
she looks at you, eyes gleaming with something akin to affection from below her long eyelashes, “it’s okay. we should have dropped the formalities long ago.”
“right,” you test it out, “minjeong.”
her eyes crinkle.
minjeong’s father eyes you weirdly.
“so,” he starts out, smirking, “you are finally attached to her?” minjeong groans. you had left to go to the washroom and her father decided to start questioning her.
“i realised that you are right.” no matter how shameful it is to admit, minjeong’s father was right. “i do like her.”
he grins proudly.
“have you told her?”
minjeong shakes her head. it’s ironic, the fact that you are married yet haven’t even confessed your affection to one another. it’s like you’re doing everything backwards.
“that’s fine, i booked a hotel room here specifically since i knew you would admit it,” he hands her the keycard. she nods.
your parents smile softly at minjeong. she feels a rush of affection at the familiar faces.
“thank you for treating our daughter well. she seems happy.”
“of course,” minjeong whispers.
the door swings open, you take your seat beside minjeong. she flashes you a grin, shaking the keycard in hand. you remember what she said about her father booking a room. laughter bubbles out of your throat.
“i think we’re done here for the night,” minjeong’s father says, “thank you for joining us tonight. let’s meet again soon.”
slowly, the group disperses, leaving you with just minjeong at the hotel lobby.
“shall we go up?”
the room is stunning to say the least. at the top of the building, it hosts a wonderful view of the city skyline. it’s even more gorgeous with kim minjeong standing in the centre of it. you didn’t get to tell her before but she looks absolutely jaw-dropping in a lavish, thin-strapped, dress. her brown hair complementing the white dress. it cinched at her waist, highlighting it, tempting you to wrap your arms around it.
“it’s beautiful,” minjeong exclaims, leaning over the balcony railings to gaze at the view. you slowly inch towards her.
“you’re more beautiful.”
even facing away, you catch sight of her rosy cheeks. it’s simply adorable.
“stop teasing me,” she whines.
“what?” you laugh, “i didn’t get to tell you properly but you really are the most gorgeous girl ever. i nearly fainted when i saw you.”
“me too,” she mumbles. you barely hear her. finally giving into the temptation, you sneak your hands around her waist, pulling her body flush into yours.
her soft gasp makes your head dizzy.
“y/n,” she whispers, making goosebumps rise up on your skin. you’re still not used to her calling your name.
“yes, minjeong?”
she spins around, hands grabbing at your shoulders for support. it sends shivers down your spine.
“i think,” she noses at your cheek affectionately, “i could get used to this married thing.”
“yeah?”
she hums.
you reach for her jaw, caressing it softly.
“you’re too cute, mindoongie. ah, i really like you. what should i do, hm?”
minjeong giggles.
“i really like you too.”
“mindoongie, my ice princess,” you sigh, leaning your forehead onto hers, “you’re just a softie after all.”
“only for you, y/nnie.”
you conclude your experiment. minjeong is indeed soft everywhere. her lips, as light as a feather, sends tingles throughout your body. unintentionally, your lips part for minjeong to slowly slip her tongue into your mouth. it feels like it’s meant to be the way your lips mould perfectly into each other. hands grasping for any more warmth minjeong could provide, you only pull her in even closer, savouring her taste.
every nip, every suck, it lights a fire of desire and affection in you. if being married to minjeong meant that you could do this every day, every hour, every second, it would be a dream come true.
eventually, you feel minjeong smile through the kiss and she pulls away, gasping to catch her breath.
“wow,” you say, eyes wide and chest heaving. minjeong’s no better. she guffaws and drops her head onto your shoulder.
“shut up.”
“who knew mindoongie was such a casanova? hey, let’s do that again.”
your wife turns away, cheeks blazing.
“i like you so much, y/n.”
you sigh, relishing in the after effects of minjeong herself. being married wasn’t so bad after all.
“i really like you too, minjeong.”
#winter x reader#winter#aespa x reader#aespa winter#kim minjeong x reader#minjeong x reader#aespa minjeong#kim minjeong#minjeong
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The fact that Junior Year didn't at all challenge the way ANY system is set up is insane to me.
In the first half of the season I kept telling people the solution to Adaine's money problems wouldn't be Fabian buying her shit for her, because Brennan - DECOLONIAL PHILOSOPHER THAT HE IS - would never construct a scenario in which the solution to a ruinous lack of funds would be to get your rich friend to pay it off for you. This was just the foundation of my argument that Fabian literally, in-universe, did not have access to enough money to do that, because BLeeM usually plugs those holes and that seemed to be essentially the point of kicking Hilarial and Gilear off-screen for most of the season, but put that aside. The point is, it was clearly a critique of the system.
Right?
Because I assumed the solution would in some way be either changing the system or breaking free of it. Part of Adaine's problem is capitalism in general, but most immediately it's the financial demands the school system makes of her.
And then...the solution is not that. The solution is that she yells at her bosses to start paying her for being the Oracle, and Fabian beats someone in a dance contest so they do it. Problem solved. It's fine that Aguefort, which prides itself to an insane degree about what an anarchic madhouse it is for all the real freaks who want to just reach out and take life by the horns, requires you buy literal barrels of diamonds to be a wizard. That's fine.
The problem was that Adaine didn't have a fortune, not that she needed a fortune in the first place.
And it's wild because exactly that's something I liked about A Starstruck Odyssey. Obviously, Starstruck is an existing IP, and there wasn't a lot of room to just revolutionize galactic society overnight, but thematically it only enhanced the season's thrust to have everyone's problems be tied to money and for them to get past them by inventively striking a fortune. It was essentially taking this mildly grimdark capitalist hellhole and being like "okay, we'll play by your rules, assholes" and by the end it felt like there was a heavy tone of irony to the celebration of The Ball Rolling Up. Like you were meant to notice and be aware that the crew of the Wurst basking in their newfound riches was good for them personally but also a fucked-up reflection on how the setting operates.
And there was little tiny baby steps towards acknowledgement of systemic issues in JY that seemed promising, but all ultimately fizzled out.
Fig being overwhelmed by her responsibilities as a working musician and owner of a part of Hell? She orders her demonic underlings and indentured souls to help her put on a hella sweet concert and she goes quintuple platinum and her old agent is totally seething.
Gorgug is being failed by an educational structure that won't allow and doesn't even want him to succeed in the way he aspires to? Zac rolls insanely well so no he isn't, he's doing great, everyone should take four times the coursework.
Riz has to do a ton of shit to get into college because as a poor person he has to run to where others walk? Jokes are occasionally made about him being in a lot of clubs but that's never once examined or otherwise touched on between the the third and final episode, with the resolution in the epilogue being his mom going "hey kiddo wherever you end up you'll do great, just as long as you get enough sleep and take regular breaks to eat ice cream!".
Fabian trying to live up to the pressure of his legacy and maintaining his social status at school? Bill has a genuinely moving conversation with Fabian in the finale, indisputably one of the highlights of the season and a moment that in spite of everything I found incredibly powerful, where he tells him that he would love him even if he weren't a Maximum Legend, but it ends on "maybe we can have both" because as Brennan himself noted Lou was rolling so well that it was actively strangling the theme of his arc so that it ended up just being Fabian occasionally feeling a bit frustrated about the pressure while effortlessly succeeding to the point that not even Fig's catastrophic bardic put a dent in his popularity, but not enough for it to be a full case of tragic imposter syndrome.
Kristen failing cleric class? Kristen deserved to fail cleric class.
The issues with Fabian and Gorgug's arc was just luck and a flaw in the downtime mechanic. The others went deeper and man I really wish more had been done there.
#dimension 20#fhjy#adaine abernant#figeroth faeth#gorgug thistlespring#riz gukgak#fabian seacaster#kristen applebees
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Hi! I just wanted to say I've been obsessed with your work as of late, especially all of your Adam works. And since your taking requests I was wondering if you'll be interested in doing this?
Bottom!Sinner!Adam x Top!Overlord!Male Reader
okay, so Reader is one the oldest residents of Hell maybe even older than Zestial. He has a reputation that precedes him. A myth/warning that parents tell their children to watch out for. But not many actually know him, just of him. He can be cruel/ruthless, but also merciful. Basically he's Hell's equivalent to Hades, lol.
BUT! What's a Hades without his Persephone?
Adam came back as a Sinner and instead of going to the Hotel(that would most definitely destroy his pride) he went to navigate becoming a Sinner himself, since this is kinda a opportunity for him, he can be himself without worrying about Heavens judgmental eyes on him all the time.
My headcanon about him is that he loves gardening, so he made his own Flower Shop in Hell with all the random/different flowers all around. Because I'll be damned if he doesn't at least have any powers that connects himself to the Earth/Nature, he's literally made from it, with some fucking dirt and pixie dust, lol
So Reader is hosting a small ball/banquet in a few weeks for the everybodies whose an anybody(rich and wealthy/the Sins/the Overlords) and he order some servants to make flower orders for the upcoming event, and who did they pick? None other than Adam's Flower Shop(that is not it's official name).
Readers hears his servants talk about the owner with soft and warm voices, which he admitted made him curious. So he made an excuse, and made his way to the shop himself. Once he met the owner he was already taken with his beauty(already whipped, lol). As well as Adam, he never met anyone that was taller than him. He never met anyone that so Domineering and he liked it, liked it a lot. He had Adam arranged a bouquet that would be ready in time for the ball/banquet.
On a wim, the Reader asked Adam out on a date for the next day, which he agreed to. After a few dates transpired, until it was the day before the ball/banquet. And Adam made the first move😳, until Reader took control of the situation, which had Adam a begging, moaning mess, asking for His Hades to go faster, while the Reader is praising His Persephone for being so good.
Sorry if this is so long😅
Never. I repeat never apologize for giving me such a beautiful, detailed prompt ever again. I ate it up and turned into whatever the fuck this is. I'm sorry this took me so long but I wanted to do justice to the long prompt you wrote. I hope ya like it
Tell me lover, tell me where have you been
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, low-key slow burn
note: not beta read bc fuck you
The time had come sooner than you had expected it to, the ball that was traditionally hosted every two hundred years was your responsibility this year and you were quite grateful for that - you could only imagine the chaos a host such as the VEEs would have brought. It was not that you disliked them, they just had their own ways of doing things and those said ways felt disrespectful in many ways. So it was your pleasure to show them how a traditional ball such as this would be hosted so that they could take notes and inspiration - not that they were actually going to acknowledge the work you were putting into organizing this. They would probably even complain about the lack of something. But that was not your problem right now.
Your problem right now were the eager little imps running through your mansion in order to prepare it for the upcoming ball, that was unnecessary in your eyes, given that there was still so much time between today and the ball, but whatever that helped your little servants to sleep at night. If they were thinking of it as necessary, you were okay with it.
“Cree,” you called out for your personal assistant as you walked through the halls of your mansion, looking for your favorite Imp. Cree was taller than the other Imps that worked for you, if only by a little, for a male Imp his horns were surprisingly small and instead of black, they were white. Cree however, was an absolute sweetheart, despite his grumpy face. The Imp came running the moment he had heard you calling out for him, eager to fulfill whatever task you were about to give him, “How can I help you, Sir?” You smiled softly at the small creature - his head was just reaching the lower part of your hip bone - that was due to Cree being small and you being taller than the average resident of Hell. You kneeled next to the helpful Imp to decrease the height difference and talk to him in a more respectful way. “Thank you, my little friend,” you greeted the creature, “I need you to task Vere and Kian with organizing the most hellish looking flowers they can find.” The little Imp was about to run off to do as he was told, before he was able to do so you gently held him back to add, “Please do not only consider the ones we already know, I do not care whom the flowers are sold by, all that is important is for them to fit the theme.” Cree nodded firmly and once you let go of his arm, he was gone, informing Vere and Kian - two other Imps that were working for you.
-
“Oh and the way the aura changes when you enter his little store - he’s a normal sinner but the way he managed to do that feels magical,” you heard Vere speaking as the little Imp walked down the hallway, you had never heard him speaking with such a dreamy voice - that might have been because Vere was one to complain about everything, not always was it supposed to be taken serious, but the little Imp sure liked to complain about everything and everyone. So him talking so warm heartedly about the store made you peek up in curiosity. “Oh and the owner himself? Let me tell you, Cree, you will never meet a person quite like him,” Kian added to Vere’s dreamy sounding description of the place and its owner. That caused you to be even more interested in the topic. “Is that supposed to be a good-” Cree started to question but was quickly interrupted by an eagerly explaining Kian, “It fucking is - he is…” The Imp had trouble finding the correct word to describe the person he had met, because how were you supposed to describe the brunette without playing it down? “Divine,” Vere hummed, sounding like he had just met God himself and he had told the little Imp all about the beauties of life.
You were not able to hold back any longer, not when your usually judgmental staff was talking so positively about the person they had just met.
So you got up from your seat in your office, took a quick look at the receipt Cree had given to you before he had gone back to doing the tasks he had yet to fulfill. A mental note was all it took before you rushed out of your office, grabbed your coat on the way out and yelled a loud, “I’m out doing business, don’t expect me home any time soon,” through the hallways. The Imps turned around in confusion - especially Cree, who knew that you had nothing scheduled for today. But before your personal assistant was able to hold you back the door fell shut loudly, informing the entire manor that you had just left. The Imp sighed in frustration as he turned back around to face the other two Imps, “Looks like we have to reschedule some things with Sir gone.”
Hell’s streets were surprisingly empty, a thing you rarely got to experience due to the pride ring’s overpopulation, but it was nice to not walk through thousands of sinners. The flower shop Vere and Kian had picked was close - closer than most shops in general were. Probably the reason why they had chosen it, they hated walking through hell’s crowded streets just as much as you did so you could not blame them, especially because the pride ring suffered from extreme overpopulation.
The building wasn’t much to look at from the outside, it looked like every other average building in hell - maybe they had been talking about something else? Had they grabbed food on their way home? You didn’t know, yet you decided to give it a chance and so you opened the door to the little flower shop and the moment you set foot in it, you felt something shift. The aura felt lighter, easier to carry, the air smelled beautiful - not too overwhelmingly sweet and not like too much, it smelled almost divine. The colors the walls were painted in were so different from Hell’s usual colors, they were bright. A beautiful lilac caused the room to appear bigger than it was. The floor was made out of solid wood - or it was made to look that way, you were unable to tell. The shelves were painted in a shade of blue you would describe as skyblue - yes the sky down in Hell was red and nothing but red - but through the portals to Heaven which you had seen once or twice during the early exterminations, you knew the sky up above was blue - this exact shade of blue.
“You gonna stare at that shit all day? If you do I'll fucking charge your ass for it. You look like you can fucking afford it,” a annoyed voice mumbled from behind you. In a swift yet elegant motion you turned around to look at the person that was speaking to you only to spot the most holy creature you had ever seen with your very own eyes. The man behind the counter was resting his head on his hand, watching you with eyes that seemed more curious than annoyed, his entire body language told you that the tall man seemed to hold a lot of curiosity for you in general. You chuckled softly, before you shook your head, “As much as I would adore to spend longer in this divine feeling place with a person as good-looking as you - I am afraid I have plans that I am sadly unable to cancel.”
The tall brunette straightened his back and raised an eyebrow at your words - had you just complimented him for his looks? That had not happened since- since he had been reborn as a sinner. But his cocky tongue never failed him and so he responded, “Mr. Busy got shit to do that’s more important than talking to the fucking Adam? Yeah, I fucking doubt it bitch.” That caused you to frown, the first man was not supposed to be a sinner so if this man was speaking the truth - which you highly doubted - then he must have been a terrible person. Not that you were any better, you were just as much a sinner as he was. Yes, you were more experienced and more powerful, but in the end you and him were both rotten to the core. “Charming, quite charming, Adam,” you hummed in amusement. And while the brunette must have thought his reaction to your words wasn’t noticed by you, you had seen how his eyes had left yours for a split second. “But as much as I would love to tell you that I came for you, I did not,” you explained, trying to lead the conversation to a more business speaking one, though you had to admit the brunette in front of you was quite adorable.
Adam however made it quite hard to talk business, not that you truly minded. Yes, your schedule would get messed up, but you had already thrown that out of the window the second you had spontaneously left to see the flower store you were currently in. “Ay, you migh’ve not come for me yet but I sure can change that if your sexyness wants to accompany me in the fucking back,” a confident grin was on his lips as he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the soft, fluffy mess out of his face. You saw something twitch and flicker behind the broad man - a tail. Truly interesting. “As tempting as your sweet invitation is, I have to decline. Business sadly can’t wait - at least not today,” for a moment you thought this through, then you decided to simply see where this would lead you. “How about tomorrow though? I could pick you up and we could have lunch together - how does that sound handsome?”
Adam turned his head to face the ground, he seemed to be genuinely thinking about it, something you appreciated dearly. Then his eyes met yours again and he nodded before he responded, “Sure, can’t see why the fuck not.” He shrugged lazily before he pointed at you with his index finger and quickly added, “But food’s on you.” To that you nodded - it only made sense to you that lunch would be on you considering that you had been the one inviting him, not the other way around.
“Now talk business hotstuff, even though I’d rather have ya talking dirty to me.”
-
The first date had gone so well that the both of you started to see each other regularly - that meant almost every other day. Something your Imps did not like all that much. Seeing someone in a romantic way took up a lot of time - time you technically did not have given the upcoming ball. But you, Adam and the Imps had managed to get everything done in time.
And that was why you and Adam were at his place. The first man had taken the day off to enjoy it with you - something you had asked of him and that had seemed quite important to you when you had requested him to do so. And given that the brunette liked it better when you two spent time together, there had been no second thought, no hesitation.
“You’re quiet,” Adam addressed the most obvious thing as you mindlessly played with his hair. The both of you were sitting on the first man’s bed, your back against the headboard and his back against your chest, his ass was seated between your legs and he seemed to really enjoy having you that close to him.
A quiet hum fell from your lips in response before you exhaled loudly, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Adam leaned forwards a little so he was able to turn his head in order to look at you. Where this conversation would lead he did not know and at that moment he wasn’t sure if he wanted to figure out where it would lead him to. Would you quit seeing him? Had you finally decided that you had enough of his bitchy attitude and would leave him too?
“I know we have only been seeing each other for a few weeks, I know we have yet so much to talk about and to confess, but I’d love to have you at my place tomorrow. I want you to accompany me at the ball,” you began, as you looked down at the other male with hope in your eyes. Though if he were to decline, you would live, you’d like it better if he were to agree. “Sure,” Adam said, visibly relaxing at the fact that you were neither quitting to see him nor leaving him in any form or way. “As my date, my partner even,” you finished, ignoring the brunette’s little interruption. Those words however caused the first man to turn around between your legs to properly face you. “Does that mean I get to fucking kiss you in front of all those fucking important and filthy rich people?” his eyes shone so pretty as he asked that question as if that would be the biggest achievement in all of his afterlife - and maybe it was.
You chuckled at the man, grinning lazily, “Even better. You get to kiss me whenever you desire.” And without another word the first man was onto you. His hands pressed against your shoulders and therefore kept you pinned against the headboard as his lips finally met yours - oh how long you had to wait for that to happen. His lips felt smooth and soft against yours and Adam was quick to prove that he was a magnificent kisser.
The kiss did not stay soft for very long though, you both made it obvious that you craved the other, that you two were longing for skin on skin contact. You wanted and desired each other and it was not only lust speaking, it was also love. The purest form of love you had ever felt. AdamÄs hands roamed from your shoulders over your chest and all the way down to your hips. Once his hands reached their destination he gave your hips a light squeeze before pulling them up a little to press his pelvis against yours.
A groan fell from your lips and met the lustful hiss of Adam - that was when you decided it was time for a switch. You liked seeing Adam so confident, so dominant, you truly did. But a thing you had learned over the past couple of weeks was that you liked the first man even better when he was all flustered - submissive even. So you skillfully caught his wrists in one of your hands, raised them above his head and leaned forwards. That action of you resulted in Adam falling backwards, landing onto the soft mattress with a surprised gasp. You found yourself on top of him, sitting on his hips to keep him from twisting the positions again as you pinned his hands firmly against the mattress above his head. A whine escaped Adam as he tried to thrust his hips upwards and was met with friction he had not been expecting.
“Oh fuck,” the first man mumbled when his lust clouded eyes met your burning ones. “Already on it, handsome,” you growled eagerly.
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“You utter cunt!”
“Fuck you!”
That was how karting usually ended when you two were involved. No matter where either of you started on the grid, you and Liam always found a way to crash into each other.
Warnings: gn!reader, rough sex, lots of swearing, rivals to lovers, smidge of angst, like 2 seconds of fluff before it descends into madness
“That was my line!”
“You call that a line? Ha! My blind grandmother can see that’s a shit line!”
And you were only thirteen then. Now you were both in formula 1. But unfortunately, the insults hadn’t matured, and neither had you.
“You absolute wankstain! What the fuck was that?!”
“That was me having to crash into my teammate! Because my teammate is a shit driver who doesn’t leave me any room, you fucking prick!”
“Oh, dear! Looks like the alpha tauri duo are having a trackside screaming match... again.”
Crofty sighed. At this point it was almost a weekly occurrence. You and Liam were bitter rivals on track and had been since you started karting all those years ago. It always ended in a screaming match that usually lasted well into the evening, and sometimes all the way up the corridors of your hotel rooms, and one time, it ended with Liam shoving you into your room and fucking you right there on the carpet.
That was one time. And you and Liam had never talked about it. The next day you’d bickered on the private jet, as per usual, and just like that it was forgotten.
Except it wasn’t, not really.
The problem was that Liam had unknowingly taken your virginity that night. And it was, by default, the best sex you had ever had. But your relationship stayed the same and the two of you never even acknowledged what happened. You weren’t obsessed with the concept of virginity either of course, it was what it was, and he was you first, whatever. But it would be nice if he stopped being such a huge prick, you know?
Then came the end of season celebrations in Abu Dhabi. You’d been drinking heavily to forget this nightmare of a season and the fact that you (just you, not Liam) had essentially been threatened to stop fighting next season or you would be out of a seat faster than you could say ‘hypocrisy’.
You tried your best to avoid him all evening. But he kept appearing in your line of sight, on the dancefloor, getting drinks at the bar, shuffling off to the toilets every now and then. You kept drinking so that your vision would hopefully go so blurry you wouldn’t be able to see him at all, but of course with those drinks came the need to pee.
So, there you were in one of the stalls thinking about the face of the man you were trying hard not to think about. Then, said man walked in, crossed the room and the sound of him undoing his zipper was heard.
You knew it was him from his stupid shoes that you recognised very well, as he had once thrown them at your head. That was an incident worthy of getting fired....
Anyway, for some obscure reason (about 7 tequila cocktails) you thought it was a great idea to voice that thought out loud.
“I never told you, but those are the ugliest shoes on the fucking planet”.
There was a pause as he zipped his fly back up.
“Jesus, are you stalking me now? The fuck are you doing in there?”
“Pissing, obviously”
Another pause.
“Right” he said “anything else you want to tell me? Or can I get back to having fun now?”
You rolled your eyes “Yeah actually, you need to stop crashing into me, dickwad”.
He snorted. “And why the fuck would I do that”.
“Because I’m out of the seat next time we crash, and because you fucking owe me, so please just cool it with the- !”
“Wait, why the fuck do I owe you anything? It’s not my fault you can’t drive!”
“Because you fucking took my virginity Liam!”
Okay maybe you weren’t completely over it.
You could’ve heard a pin drop. You desperately hoped there wasn’t anyone else in the stalls.
“What?!”
You were so embarrassed you tried to get out of answering by flushing the toilet and waiting for him to leave.
Obviously, that didn’t work.
“Unlock the door, please” He sounded almost winded, which confused you so much you actually opened the door. He was leaning against the wall and as his eyes snapped to yours, you could see there were tears in them.
Your bewilderment must have been visible because he immediately wrapped his arms around you in a tight bear hug.
“I’m so sorry you’re first time was like that... I’m so, so sorry...”
You pushed him off enough to be able to breathe again “The sex was great Liam, what the fuck are you sorry for?”
He stroked your hair as he spoke, refusing to meet your eyes. “Because... I thought you hated me so I... Your first time shouldn’t be, you know, hate-sex. I thought that was the only way I would get to do it with you so I- I didn’t know you’d never done it before- it was a spur of the moment thing”.
You were even more confused. “The only way you’d get to do it? What the fuck does that mean?”
He finally looked at you and he seemed so weirdly vulnerable, so heartbroken that your brain started to catch up, and your breath caught in your throat.
“Do you...” your heart was beating fast as you scanned his face for a reaction “like me?”
He had a pained look on his face and just looked down at the floor. He didn’t like you. It went deeper than that.
“Liam look at me” He did. You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night, you know” he said softly.
“Neither have I” you whispered, and your eyes met as he looked at you in shock.
You both moved at the same time, crashing your lips and bodies together as the years of tension finally washed away and you were on the same wavelength for the first time.
As you both caught your breath a minute later, he chuckled. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel. I owe you a do-over”.
And do-over he did.
As in, he did you, over every surface.
It started out sweet enough. He carried you to the bed, undressed you slowly and took his time fucking you slowly, almost maddeningly so. But you both quickly realised that he’d already corrupted you the first time, and now you liked it rough. So he gave it to you. First he flipped you over on the bed, grabbed your hair and pushed you face down into the sheets as he pounded into you mercilessly from behind, occasionally leaving hand prints on your ass, then he took you standing up against the glass windows, one hand around your throat, the other sneaking down to touch you where you were making a mess of yourself.
“Fuck, you like it like this don’t you? You’re basically dripping onto the carpet”.
Then he flipped you and lifted you up, your legs hooking over his arms as he entered you again, the position giving you no choice but to just take it.
“Yes, take it baby, fuck- so tight around me, take my fucking cock” he growled and bit into your shoulder, making you moan. “You’d take anything I give you right? Such a fucking slut for it my god”
His hips stuttered as he had a thought.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it? My fault that you take it like you were made for it, fuck” his thrusts became even harder as you both felt your highs quickly approaching, your hands were scrambling for purchase on his sweaty shoulders, settling in his hair to give it a sharp tug, his answer was a deep thrust that knocked the breath out of you.
“Fucking made for me. Only I get to see you like this now, don’t I? My little cockslut, all for me. Isn’t that right?”
You nodded quickly, but he made a noise of discontent.
“Words baby, I need words or I won’t let you come. Who do you belong to?”
“You Daddy, please I’m gonna come” you couldn’t help it, the name slipping out as his hips stuttered and he made a punched-out noise.
“Shit- say that again baby, that sounded good”.
You huffed out a whine, now was not the time to be embarrassed “Daddy please, please I need to come so bad”.
He groaned “Okay baby go ahead, come on daddy’s cock, now.”
You came so hard. All over yourself, and it ran down onto his thighs and the feeling of you dripping everywhere sent him over the edge, thrusting a couple more times before stilling, deep inside you as you felt him fill you up.
He carried you like that into the bathroom, setting you down gently in the shower, legs and hips sore from the position and you both spent an eternity in there, soaping each other up and kissing tenderly, trying to make up for lost time.
As you got into bed with him, you checked your phone and saw two things: the alarm for your flight was in 2 hours, and a text that read “does this mean you two will be cooperating from now on?” from your performance engineer.
Your cheeks burned red, she had the room right next door.
Inspired by lestappen tbh
I blacked out, and an hour later this monstrosity was born! Hope you enjoyed lmao
Also I used alpha tauri bc i refuse to put Visa Cash Card Paypal App Racing Redbulls in my goddamm fics.
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I just. What do you think was going through his mind when his car exploded into pieces in front of him and the piece that landed next to him was a hand crank? Like the world was ending around him, he'd just gone through the rollercoaster of losing and then finding his angel again, and from the burning bones of the Bentley fate offers him an echo of the same object he'd once been given divinely. What did it feel like to reach for a souvenir and find that object given to him in this new context? What did it feel like to use that again in this moment of once again offering the fate of humanity up to the choice of one it's own? To be able to hold this thing, born again from a human made object, and say this time I am going to use it to give them the opportunity to choose their own fate?
#good omens#crowley#I keep thinking about this and how he leaves that airfield wondering if this was all God's plan from the start#I wonder if it felt like finding equilibrium or maybe a sort of reclamation#Like acknowledging that even if you are not who you once were you can and often do still carry parts of them with you#And validation that carrying those parts do not mean you are still that person#That same act starting the universe in motion again has such a different meaning being used to give Adam a choice#Despite the fact it is clearly meant to be an echo of starting the universe for the sake of being created to do so#Hi yes I'm still thinking about the damn hand crank
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you ever just see a post and just
. 😭
.⬅️🫀⬅️
#Worst emoji combo ever but it’s gon be such big depression hours down here so scroll if you want im on the brink of throwing up#don’t you just bloody love it how over the past 3 years you’ve only seen people the large total of…. 4 times!!! An average of seeing someon#outside of school 1.3 times per year!! What a bloody fantastic way to spend your teenage years!#Don’t you also just love it when people talk right to you about how they all went out together over the weekend and like did some stupid#shit like your average high schooler would do and you’re just like “oh. I went to my 1 and a half hour long dance class and got ignored the#entire time and when you did try to talk they just spoke over you” oh my fucking god I hate that place so much even the teacher fucking#ignores me once we were going in a circle and she was asking everyone what they got for Christmas and I was in the middle of the circle so#thought hey maybe someone will actually acknowledge my existence but she fucking ignored me and went to next person like why the fuck#And now I’m debating staying in that shithole bc I was invited to a gc for that class and I stupidly thought that someone might want me#There. I wasn’t even invited I secretly scanned the qr code to join over someone else’s shoulder#everyone else there is the best of bloody friends and I’m just there talking to one friend who I don’t even think is my friend#“Hey man I’m really fucking sad rn can I talk to you” “womp womp have you heard stupid fact no.3848594 about my ocs while I ignore you when#you talk about anything else about me” oh my god shut up literally no one else sane would see someone like that their closest friend rn#At least someone wants to talk to me#Like what is it that makes people not want to see my please just tell me I’ll change I’m amazing at changing my personality to fit others#promise me on that I’ve done it my entire life#Even just messaging me more than once every year and I’d consider you my best friend this is how bad I’m getting#What is so bloody bad about me that no one else likes I don’t care how badly you fucking word it just something#It shouldn’t be normal to wish death on people you call your mates bc you heard about them all going out together without you#Oh dear did the gc’s without me in it there’s one for every friend group I’ve ever been in why isn’t there one for the main group I’m in rn#Idfc anymore just tell me what I’m doing wrong I keep asking people if they want to go out or how far away they live from some place#And it’s always met with ignoring me talking over me or immediately changing the subject#Please if you’re someone I know irl what the fuck am I doing fucking wrong I can’t fucking do this anymore be as mean as you like#Why the fuck does no one ever want to be around me why do I hear so much about stuff others are doing together but never me#It shouldn’t be normal to prefer being in a toxic relationship than what I’m in rn#I fucking hate everything
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i want to say I showed up at that Uriel v Castiel poll when it said “less than one minute remaining” but we did it
I WAS CELEBRATING AND THEN I SAW THE FINAL COUNT OF VOTES WAS 4949 AND I AM. HAUNTED. NO ESCAPE. MY OWN PERSONAL HARBINGER.
#for those who don't know#Bidokja Lore Time:#the number 49 has followed us around since we were like. A Kid#i see it at least once every day#with literally only a handful of exceptions in an entire year#i saw it like fIVE TIMES in one day just a couple of days ago. and then only once yesterday so i thought it was giving me a break#went allllll day today not seeing it#and then BOOM 2 hit combo instant KO#im refusing to acknowledge that there's another 49 involved in that poll since its a Percentage and i stopped counting those years ago#(plus its 49.8 not an even 49....i rEFUSE TO BE 3-HIT COMBO'D IT DOESN'T COUNT IT DOESNTTT)#anyways#now that you know. you can imagine the Crisis i went through during the last arc of ORV lmao#ky speaks
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sometimes it feels like ppl on here think ppl who are stern and assertive are shitty and its like... im sorry but ive been walked on all my life, if im not stern and assertive ppl treat me like shit.
#being bubbly and smiley and welcoming has only welcomed people who want to use and abuse me into my life#id love to be if i didn't feel like people were going to manipulate my kindness#and its not lost on me that im treated like an asshole for this probably bc some ppl just see me as a grumpy hysterical half-woman#even trans ppl who would tell me they dont but show me they do still feel that way about me lmao#ppl rly aren't prepared to discuss how trans men are effected by misogyny in and outside of our communities#we're seen as essentially ugly unsavory women#the woman 'its okay to hate bc they're problematic in x way even iof they aren't we need to find a way all trans mascs r problematic'#'so we have an excuse to keep ostracizing them'#bc once you dismiss someone as a woman you hate whos problematic its a free for all. for some reason yall will let your masks down#entirely on allegedly problematic people who are percieved as women.#like yall are trying to get it all out as quick as you can on trans men on how misogynistic you can be so then you can go 'well ur a man so#u dont experience misogyny lololol gotem anyways lets keep treating them like how society treats women they hate'#and then once it becomes mainstream that its not cool to hate all dudes including transmascs whom you've decided are somehow worse than cis#men- yall will slide into the shadows pretending you didn't do shit or contribute to shit going on here#but if brought up- you'll panic and scramble to find reasons to justify ur behavior. recycling problematic things those transmascs#supposedly did that are either dated and have been addressed and the person has changed or changed their mind since then or#shit thats been disproven and was never real to begin with#and yall dont want to sit in the silence acknowledging what u did at all so you'll keep deflecting and ignoring it forever#bc facing the reality that you've hurt someone for some reason is really hard for ppl on here
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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".
it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.
do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.
but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.
do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).
you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.
walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.
no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.
do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."
you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.
there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.
i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.
he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."
#spilled ink#warm up#“why did u tag it warm up” bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol#btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can#run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her#but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like.#ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone!#like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate''#we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!
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───〃★ WE F⍣CK OFF & ON, OFF & ON .ᐟ
〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ As the campus’s well known f⍣ckboy, Satoru Gojo wasn’t known to stick around for more than one night in one bed. Well, that unspoken rule just didn’t apply when the bed was yours.
〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, uni au, smut (mdni), protected s⍣x, f⍣ckboy!gojo, hair pulling, p⍣ssywhipped!gojo, mentions of alc⍣hol & bein’ drunk, dirty talk, slight dumbification.
〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ Thank you so freaking much for 1.5K!!! 🥹
Absolutely unbearable.
If there was any way to describe the campus fuckboy, it’d be that.
He was known—infamous for his unique way of fucking women and somehow leaving them attached, yearning for him once more after just one night, while he only left unscathed with his balls empty.
Satoru Gojo was insatiable. And you hated him.
You failed to see what everyone saw in him—he was a total idiot for fucks sake! Granted, he had a pretty face and could be quite charming, and you really couldn’t say for yourself if he was that good in bed, but good things about him paled in comparison to his horrid personality. He knew how attractive he was, and used that any chance he got.
How did he manage to talk his way into and out of anything? You simply didn’t know. But you hated him.
That was…until you yourself finally had a taste of Satoru Gojo.
Drunk at a party and so utterly wasted, you’d failed to acknowledge who was hitting on you, who you got into the taxi with to drive back to who knows where. His hands all over you—so rough yet inviting, even after the alcohol in your system had gone you still found yourself pulled into a trance.
A trance that seemingly pushed you to his bed and under him. Seemingly had you moaning his name all night and for more to come.
And seemingly, now, opening the door to your apartment so he could come in. So he could come in and fuck you like he’s been doing for the past months. Well, that’s just what he thought would happen anyway.
“Satoru,” you huffed, watching as the tall freak plopped himself onto your couch, momentarily jerking his head back before he responded with a hum.
“Can you stop acting like a fool and try not to break anything for once?” You chastised, pointing to a hand of his already playing with the flowers in your prized vase—he hadn’t given you those and had no right to taint them.
The white haired man groaned, rolling his eyes and following you down the narrow hallway to your bedroom. Your steps halted at the doorway and so did his, a low snicker leaving his lips as his hands slid to your waist.
“So,” he sighed in your ear, brushing his soft lips past the skin of your neck, big hands squeezing the flesh of your ass as he snaked them down. “Y’just gonna keep on being grumpy or you gonna let me fuck?”
“Satoru,” you exasperated for what seemed like the umpteenth time, though you didn’t dare take his hands off your body, already surrendering to the feeling. “Just because we’ve been fucking doesn’t mean that I only invite you here because of that.”
You turned around to face him. “We have a project to do, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll start after I start.”
And what was Satoru’s definition of that?
It was pushing your head further down into your pillows as he absolutely ravished your cunt, simultaneously holding both your hands back with just one of his.
His thrusts were deep and calculated—to the point where it felt like he knew where every pleasurable spot inside you was. Perhaps he did.
“Dick’s got you all quiet now, hm?” he smirks, sliding his free hand up your back and to your head, pulling your hair back as he speaks. By then you were a drooling mess and as much as you’d hate to admit it—you’re practically dumb on his cock, moaning incoherent little babbles of his name and how big he feels.
Satoru grins behind you, smug because he’s got you, the most prim and proper girl on campus choking on her own saliva. It all felt so surreal, you felt surreal—your soft hips, the succulent ripple of your ass as his hips connected to it, your moans—fuck everything you did was driving him crazy. Even though it was supposed to be the other way around.
He was the one who was supposed to be ingrained in your brain—but here he was, inches deep inside your wet, reeling pussy after he swore the last time he was in your apartment would be the last.
But there’s always a reoccurring cycle with you. He just can’t stop.
“Hah—mph—slow down, S’toru!” you mewl, fat tears swelling in your waterline, your ears perking up at the rhythmic plap! plap! plap! of your sweaty bodies colliding. “If ‘m too loud my neighbors might hear,”
“Yeah? Let them hear how good I’m makin’ you feel then,” he breathes, shallow and unsteady, his toned chest moving in tandem with his inhales. The deep tremble of his voice seems to move throughout your body, vibrating through you in such a maddening way that you’re almost cumming from the feeling alone.
What was even more provoking was the way he pulsed against your gummy walls, thumping and pulsing inside you loud enough that it seemed you could hear it.
And—god was Satoru close, so close he could feel the static of his high zap though his fingers. He groaned, head thrown back in bliss as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so deliciously.
Your head was spinning from the mind-dizzying pleasure, eyes rolling back in what Satoru can only admit is the most remarkable expression he’s gotten out of anyone he’s fucked.
His hair was sticking to his forehead now, sweaty from how fast he was working to thrust into you at his abnormal pace. “Can I—“
“No.”
A defeated sigh and a pained grunt as he pulled out just as he was about to teeter off the edge of pleasure, taking himself in his hands and finishing the job. Satoru jerked himself as he watched you shake and convulse in euphoria, your body unwinding as you let your limbs go limp.
Cum seeped from your pussy, dripping down to your clit and sheets—and that sight was all he needed before his hot seed was spurting all over your back, the sensation causing a broken cry to leave your lips.
“Fuck,” Satoru mouthed, breathing hard as he gave your ass little smacks of approval. “That was—shit—so good.”
You nodded, head turning to the side as you watched him take off his cum-filled condom, and dump it in the trash. Satoru plopped back on your bed once he was done.
A smirk graced his lips and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing nothing good could come out of that look.
“When do you think we could do it raw, hm?”
“When you get tested for every type of STD.”
#ꔫ : ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌⎯ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍#jjk fic#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo fluff#satoru smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#jjk satoru#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru x you
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‘ CANDY BOY ! ’
ᡴꪫ sum. who would have thought that the #1 camboy in your city was no one other than your virgin roommate gojo, who’s totally putting on a show for his fangirls. he talks too much, but maybe you can shut his mouth and put his sweetened little fantasies to reality.
wc. 5.8k
warnings. fem! reader, camboy!gojo, college au, gojo's a virgin, switch! gojo, unprotected, dirty talk, he gets pússy drunk quick, overstim, "good boy" usage, cunnilıngus, premature ejaculating, nipple play, lots of spıt, handjōbs.
if someone would have told you that your loser of of a roommate who stuffs his mouth with a bit too many sweets, cries at romcoms, and is just an overall dork was a camboy, you’d call them crazy. batshit crazy even, yet that’s exactly what happened—
gojo was rightfully one of the top camboys in the city, probably in the world too. he was sort of a household name, it was more of a side hustle for him. he did it only for the money—sure, he adored his fans, even the ones that went a little too extreme with the provocative thirsting. but that’s all part of the job, he’s about seven months strong in his little gig. every saturday and sunday, he logs on under the user of: @/GOJOSLUTORU.
the moment that same notification pops up that he’s live, a plethora of his fans join immensely, wondering just what their favorite camboy satoru was up to today. his streams would last for a good two hours—longer sometimes if it was some kind of special event where he’d reach a massive amount of donations, a special treat for his fans. gojo was beloved for his flirty personality, he’d make his fangirls swoon with his words, despite knowing full well he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a lady.
that’s until you came along—more like catching him right in the act. it couldn’t have been any more embarrassing though. eleven thousand eyes were cheering him on, showering him with lewd "good boy" praises until you drop your bag.
“satoru?” you utter, curling your brow into a surprised furrow once you take in the scene in front of you. tossing the spare set of keys into the bin, you glance at your roommate—he freezes mid stroke with the most flustered expression. his hands were a bit … occupied, and a glimpse of a familiar cloth you once wore catches your eye. “are those my panties?”
“no….?”
with a deadpan, your shoulders drop before you drag your feet towards him to take a quicker look. oh, those were definitely your panties. so that’s where they ran off too. gojo tries to shield his nude exposed lower half with a nearby towel but it’s no use—you saw everything you needed to see.
“anywhooo,” he swallows, taking a brief peer at his chat that was flooding with all types of questions. they wanted to see you, they wanted to see gojo’s pretty roommate who he’s always rambling about on stream. clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before pitching his tone. he tries to sound more attractive but ends up butchering right away, stuttering at his first pathetic sentence. “ i- i didn’t think you’d get here so early. how was the exam?”
“it was … fine,” you mumble, barely acknowledging his words. your mind was racing vigorously, trying to process how you’d just seen your roommate half naked. going up behind him, you lean in towards his neat set up—you grew a bit curious, immediately, your eyes meet the other eyes that stare back at you. near the top right displayed his large following of eight hundred thousand, the top left displays his current view count, a whopping amount of almost twelve thousand. peeking at the chat, you’re met with dozens of freshly new comments saying how pretty you are, asking if you’re his girlfriend he always talks about, and so on. “you’re a camboy?”
“heh, camboy’s kind of an exaggeration but,” and he’s nervous, you can hear the slight tremor in his voice. it’s cute, gojo was prepared for you to judge him for his side hustle but instead you don’t. he relaxes a bit, shifting his attention away from his crude chat and towards you. “i like to label myself as a um, streamer..”
you have a growing simper. “i don’t think streamers usually get naked for their audience,” and you take a quick stare at his attire—he was practically shirtless, his boxers were covered although he was wearing some kind of tank that had ‘submissive and breedable’ printed on the very front. you furrow your eyebrow, though you choose not to question it. his nervously sly smile only grows once he catches your eyes quite literally checking him out. glancing at the comments again, you hum. “why do they keep asking if i’m your girlfriend? you don’t have a girlfr-”
“woah, s-shut up!” he whines, cupping a hand over your mouth. you giggle, feeling the warmth of his palm rub against your lips. gojo lowers his voice, speaking in a faint whisper. “they think you’re my girlfriend,” and he peels his hand away before running a finger down his nape. “i told them that because-”
“satoru,” you roll your eyes, noticing how he was quite stiff with his body language. being this close to you, your mere elegant fragerence was so exhilarating for him. you made him this nervous, truth be told ; you were far too caught up in your academics to even realize your roommate had a little crush on you. however, you do wish you found out in a more … non less of a lewd way, a way where he wasn’t caught red-handed fondling with a pair of your pretty sage-colored panties. with a sigh, you mumble to him. “you wanna fuck, don’t you?”
that’s definitely not what he thought you was gonna say,
with pouty shimmery lips, gojo’s eyes widen before a sheepish grin marinates against his features. “pft. do i wanna fuck, whaaat?” and he doesn’t even last a second before sighing, dropping his head down in defeat. “y-yes..”
the ringing from his monitor — dozens of women sending him gifts, tickets, donations, begging for their favorite camboy to notice him only gets more disruptive.
the ringing grows louder, the repetitive chiming sound of bells, the blaring notification it makes whenever someone sends him a sweet contribution. pretty soon, he was on the verge of meeting yet another goal. ever since you got spotted on the stream, his viewer count doubled.
“well, why didn’t you just ask? besides, there’s other ways than using my panties to get off.” and a wave of embarrassment washes over his face. the towel’s still covering his torso before he shoots you a shy smile. any closer you could’ve got to him and he thought he was gonna explode. the heat radiating from you had his head going in a crazed ditz. stroking his cheek, you speak softly.
“i’m sorry,” he whines, bottom lip poking out. you end up sitting flat on his lap, and instinctively, the curvature of your waist was met with two big hands snaking around it. you’re so pretty like this, he wanted you so so bad. swallowing, he peeks towards his chat before you cup both of his temples to stare right back into your eyes. “i was gonna ask you but- but i’ve never done this, you know,” and the way you slide a finger behind his neck, skimming the texture of your middle finger down his undercut snatches a purr from him. “i- i want you, but i just don’t know what to do with like .. i wanna make sure that i don’t embarrass myself.”
oh, he couldn’t have been any more cuter,
you heard the slight crack in gojo’s voice at the end of his candied sentences before you sling your arms over him. “don’t be embarrassed,” you softly reply, still straddling his lap. “i can always show you how.” and he gulps, your voice was smooth as silk. sweet as honey, the more you strum your thumb down his undercut, the more he can hear the rapid pulse of his heart beat throb through his ears. the simplicity of your touch was enough to have him weak.
“please..” he murmurs in a hushed tone, loving the way how gentle, how tender you were with your touch. gojo mewls out a needy whimper, feeling a sudden tent rise near between his legs. he was hard, you’d giften him a pretty solid boner and whilst you were propped up on his lap, you felt it rub against you all too well.
gojo awaits for you to make the first move, but you’re teasing . . seeing if he was going to initiate, and he does, inching his sheeny lips into yours.
your roommate pulls you into a deep kiss, he tastes like candy, candied. with your arms still occupied, wrapping around him, you glide your tongue against his, parting lips, teeth clashing amongst each other in sync. you could hear the faint sounds of whimpers run from his lips, he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands though—so gingerly, a hand of his strums down your back, giving the fabric that stuck against your skin a soft yank. he wanted you, the strain beneath his half on boxers only grows the more he starts to suck on your tongue.
heavy, wheezing breaths collide against each other, hitting each moving muscle like a wave,
he’s so eager,
gojo’s mind clears everything out of his head and he’s just focused on you. the saccharine tang of your signature lip gloss, he tastes it and it’s so delicious.
through cerulean-pristine hazed peripherals, gojo looks towards his chat to read some of the comments . .
chososdoublehomicide: i miss choso
zorosthroatwarmer293: i wanna be gojo >:( she’s so pretty
secksybabeamy: Hey hot stuff ;) Subscribe to my only fans!
throatgoatemily: His whines omg
as the kiss deepens, gojo whines once your hand slithers its way down between his legs. slowly removing the towel that sheaths his exposed body, you feel against his dick. at first touch, he whimpers, then whines, then whimpers again.
he was so pent up—you could feel it, you were gentle with your fingers, brushing it against the length of his dick before gently wrapping a hand around its girth. gojo moans in your mouth, feeling hitched breaths arise from his lungs. he could never get enough of how fucking sweet you were,
and he didn’t even want to.
pulling away for a long gasp of fresh air, he bites his lip as he looks down to feel your hands stroke his cock. gojo had quite the staggering inches on him, he shivers at how precise your hand movements were—
up and down,
with a hand of yours gripping over his fat length, a thumb of yours runs down the vein that coats his shaft. its pulsing, he’s needy for more of your touch so bad that it sends shockwaving static to rigorously coarse through his bouquet of neurons.
“y-your hand feels so much better than mine, heh,” he breathes, swallowing the imaginary balled up lump that resides near the back of his throat. blue irises, dilated and all stares at you—a hand reaches towards your back before his thigh starts to bounce. “not to be weird but i kinda had a dream about this, angel.”
“a dream about me stroking you?” you hum, amused before sneaking a wet kiss near the crook of his twitching lips.
gojo nods wearily, forever deeply captured by your beauty. your hands swiftly resumes to stroke him, feeling the tender skin that lives near his frenulum peel back every few seconds. gojo moans, burying his face into the very depths of your neck. so desperate, he wanted more and more. “aw, is this too much? should i slow down?”
“no.. don’t stop,” and his desperate plea was so sweet, though he wanted to go further. you giggle once he suddenly lifts you up, dragging you towards the bed. “f-fuck, ‘m sorry. can’t wait anymore,” and he hovers over you with that crazed look of total desire. “can i … eat you out?”
with a coy smile, you’re laid on your back as he just stands over you — eyes gawking at your entire physique, the way your thighs were all out with the short hem of your shorts reaching against your ass. you could tell gojo was impatient, that hungry stare in his eye never once faded.
“yeah,” you coo, parting your legs slowly. oh, you were a fucking tease.
not only were you a tease for him, you were a simple force to be reckoned with. no panties on either, gojo felt himself get hard yet again before he kneels down. with your roommate positioning himself between your legs, he lets off a soft sigh.
combing your fingers through his soft tangles, he looks up at you with a craving yet impish expression. you giggle, making him look right into your eyes. peering at his chat that was going ballistic over his girlfriend, you speak in a soft tone. “do you know how to even eat pussy, ‘toru? i can h-”
“girl i know how to eat pussy,” he grumbles, and he sounds almost offended at you asking if he needed any sorts of help.
sure—gojo literally didn’t know the first thing of eating a woman out, maybe visually.
but now that he’s up close, he has to stop himself from folding right then and there. so soaked, he gets a full view of your slick entrance, your pussy was the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes upon so far.
as he’s a few inches a apart, with sprawled open thighs—the last thing you’d expect was for to gojo to start drooling all on your cunt. a stringy, syrupy concoction of his own saliva pours out of his mouth and onto your folds. just a quick glimpse and he’s pussy drunk. fuck, he’s more embarrassed than he’s ever been but he can’t help it. gojo didn’t even get a taste and he’s already salivating at the sight of your sopping wet arousal. a thumb of yours wipes the spit that dribbles near the corner of his mouth and he whines at your touch again before he finally digs in.
lolling out his tongue, the very tip licks near the inner moistened entrance of your pulled out labia. gojo for probably the umpteenth time lays his tongue flat before he goes all in. a broad left hand of his attach towards the fat of your thigh as he remakes a long striping lick. “s-shiiit, ‘toru.” you gasp, the coldness on his tongue taking you by sheer surprise.
the texture of it .. you’re weak, gnawing on metaphoric bars of your enclose as well as the skin on your lip, you whine.
for someone who’s never had much experience, let alone no experience, you’d easily second guess. your back arches forward while gojo’s tongue rummages through every part of your clit. he sucks on your nub, closing his eyes and fully sinks into bliss. gojo’s pristine white brows cock into a furrow before he slides a thumb down your wet entrance. he just can’t get over how wet you were for him. sopping wet, inept lips of his constantly quivers before he gives your cunt a sweet kiss.
wet for him, he breaks his lips away for a few seconds just to smear his face against your pussy.
“m-mhm,” he whimpers, wanting your scent to linger on his face for as long as it could, your scent .. it was hard to not get obsessed, a few minutes in and he already felt his mouth watering.
as bundles of minuscule taste buds of his tingle with excitement — his tongue swiftly swirls through every orifice, not missing any spot. he searched through the gooey crevices of your walls, lips moving in complete tandem. his dick strains between his thighs that it’s almost painful.
if eating you out tasted this good, he only imagined what it’d feel like to be inside,
shoved deep into your pussy, stuffing you full with his luscious thickset inches . .
that same repeated whine that always sounds raw dies straight out of your esophagus, you yank on the strands of your roommate’s messy hair as his pace quickens by a mile. in the midst of devouring your heat, a broad hand of his caresses near the juncture of your thighs—he kisses the long slope inside of your entrance, lips all glossy and glittering with gloss thanks to you. that same panging throb starts to grow within you again. your toes curl up tightly before your eyes meet the drywall splattered on the ceiling. his tongue, the way it continues to scrabble all through every part of your cunt, he grows addicted almost immediately. gojo can’t help but lather a few sloppy kisses on your folds, sliding his tongue through your slit.
he even starts to tongue fuck you, softly thrusting the swollen tip of his tongue in and out until you’re about to whine out again for him.
that was his favorite part by far, pushing his tongue in and out of your puffy folds — relishing the way your pretty pussy coats the underside of his chin with a lustrous amount of sweet, burnished slick.
“ngh, ‘toru,” you’d wail, and your hips start to jitter against his face. he doesn’t mind . . in fact, gojo brings two hands to grip against the curves of your hips.
once he maintains a secure grasp, he lets you rub your wetness all over him. with his tongue thoroughly exploring in every part, he starts to whine too .. so eager to touch himself but he wants to keep his hands on you. a whiny whimper wrenches from the back of your throat before you start to babble. “satoru, ‘m gonna cum, fuuuck. jus’ like that, keep l-lickin’ there, baby.”
he was such a quick learner, part of you thinks he maybe had more experience than you oughta thought. gojo can’t help but attack your sweet syrupy folds with a multitude of kisses, drooling lips of his making you more sticky than you already were. your legs could barely hold themselves open.
he had to pry them open with clammy hands, slurping in every drop as if he was dehydrated with thirst. a thirst you happily quenched with him being propped between your legs. after a while, he runs a thumb down your slit once more, pretty eyes glancing up at you, wanting to see your sweet face. “a-am i doin’ a good job?” and his voice was a bit hoarse, the way he speaks, drooping eyes and a sheepish grin—visibly pussy drunk, you grab onto his strands before rocking your hips into his mouth. he giggles, muffled noises eliciting from his mouth, taking your eager jittery movements as a yes.
he just couldn’t get enough of his roommate’s taste.
occasionally, he likes to depart his lips to gather a nice concoction of saliva—only to then spit right onto your sopping folds, whining at how it was so shiny. so pretty, he’s mesmerized again at how it looks, and you end up cumming with the cutest shrieking orgasm. it snatches out of you roughly, your speech is slurred for a moment as your legs quaver in utmost pleasure.
you’re shaking, feeling him clean you up with the flatness of his tongue—gojo moans, white lashes fluttering as he takes your beauty in. this was so much better than one of his risqué wet dreams. so much better,
without even a single word leaving from his lips, he gets up to pull you into a kiss. almost immediately, you taste yourself that lingers on his tounge. it tastes sweet, gojo props himself between your thighs as you sit up, a free hand of his sliding between your stretched out legs. the constant rings of his donations continue to scream out that same annoying chime before he leans in to shut his computer. he’d probably have left so many—thousands of his fan girls devastated, but there was only a new fan girl he was fixated on.
you.
gojo was addicted, with tongues colliding against each other, hot breaths wafting against each own, he feel his breath hitch at your touch. a hand of yours snakes down to feel on his erect dick. he whines, gnawing at the bottom of your lip before his tongue gets more curious. he licks the bottom of your chin, the side of your mouth, only to then pull you into another deep kiss. “f-fuck, ‘m so hard,” he rasps between sultry kisses, heaving from each breath. you still couldn’t get over the taste of yourself that loiters all on the flat of his pink tongue. “i wanna feel you from the inside, angel.”
“but your stream,” you tease once he finally pulls away, taking a second to catch your breath yourself. you felt the heat roam across the room before stroking his cheek — flushed lips of his burn with such intensity, you had him feral. “your fans, i wouldn’t wanna interrupt them, ‘toru.”
“fuck them,” he pouts, the cute frown on his face tugging against his lips. “okay that’s mean, they help me pay rent but just- i want you right now,” and he’s so needy. he paws at your t-shirt, glossy eyes widening, god. his bottom lip pokes out, squinting for two seconds before seeing how your nipples invitingly poke out. so perky, he could feel his mouth watering sporadically. he lays you back before swallowing, a loud gulp before he hovers over you. “you knew this was gonna happen, didn’t y-you? such a tease.”
you simper, opening your legs for him and he gets a good glimpse. gojo sucks his teeth, still so soaked. he only dreamt of what you’d feel like inside.
probably so tight and warm,
the more he thinks about it, the more he could feel himself starting to drool. gojo’s panting as if he’d just finished a marathon. a hand of his wraps around his length—giving it a few solid pumps. “i thought you’d wanna do doggy for your first position,” you sweetly say, and oh, he pouts for you again. you sit up, awaiting for him to take the lead first before smiling. “missionary though? you’re not so good with eye contact, baby.”
“i know how to do missonry.” he grumbles.
“missionary,” you correct him with a titter.
he pouts again, preparing to align himself. so wet, your pussy was sopping wet, swollen from just being eaten out so good. a warm breath fans out through his lips before he rubs it against your slippery slit. “and don’t call me baby,” he moans, although the simple pet name for him a lot harder than he thought it would. slowly, gojo’s fat leaky tip continues to ghost against your folds. you hold back a sweet moan, laid all out on display for him on the mattress. he’s waited for this moment, had dreams about it, even fantasized about it. “fuck,” he’d huff out, and his voice cracks. you’d laugh but he’s staring at you the entire time with that cute pouty expression. “can- can we hold hands? for you know, leverage?”
“leverage, sure,” you play along, your fingers locking against his. damp, perspiring palms squeeze against yours before his rounded tip starts to slowly make its way inside. immensely, a breath gets caught in his throat and he whines. the warmth he’s rudely greeted with makes him gnaw his pearly whites together. “you’re kinda b-big, so go a little slow, ‘toru.”
“i’m big?” he repeats—cutely enough, it boosts his ego that you think so, yet his confidence fades the further he dumps a few hefty inches into your entrance. as you expected, you were a bit tight and stiff for a few seconds—unyielding against him for a moment, you moan. saying gojo was big was a mere understatement, he couldn’t help but lean in to lay against your chest. “how’s it feel? s-slower?”
“it’s good. that’s good,” you start to heave, gasping once he inches his head closer to latch his lips against your neglected cold nipples. he doesn’t even lift up your t-shirt, he runs his tongue through the fabric and sucks on your perked tits. “t-toru, fuckk.”
it was a soft twinge sensation at first before he’s close to bottoming out . . so close,
it’s at the moistened tip of his tongue. gojo’s shaft resumes to go in further, you feel him pulse inside before once he’s all the way in, he’s already out of breath. with his mouth occupied—he’s still sucking on your nipples through the shirt, whiney. a free hand of his runs gives your left thigh a nice firm grasp before he starts up a single few thrusts.
you whine, tossing your arms over him and he glances down at you—beads of sweat race down the sides of his brow before he sits up in a proper position. gojo can’t get over how pretty you look for him like this, he’s fully in and he sneaks a kiss onto your lips. “can i m-move?” and the falter in his voice was adorable, gojo’s breath continues to get more heavy before you give him a nod. he peppers various kisses near your mouth, neck, and of course, your precious chest. his personal favorite,
with frail arms wrapped around him, pulling him close—you run your ankle down his back and he moans. “oh, ‘s even better than i imagined,” he whispers against your ear, hot breath sending you antsy judders. the more his breath goes against your skin, the more you smell how minty it was. fresh, you desperately yearned for more so you pull him into another kiss for the nth time. “ugh. the way you clamp down, ‘s gonna kill me,” he babbles in a low puff. he’s speaking between staring up at decent pace for you to get accustomed to. you whimper, trying to get adjusted to his barreling length but he was just so fucking big. it was an ongoing rumor that between gojo—and his best friend suguru geto had the top biggest dicks. of course, you always wondered exactly how whoever started that rumor would even know, but gojo was definitely a packer. he stretched you out in ways you’ve never felt before. with strained breaths, he coats your mouth with many wet kisses. time and time again, the feeling of himself going into you raw has him drooling again. “pussy’s so wet, ‘m gonna die, oh my god.”
“don’t be dramatic, you’re not gonna die.” you try to reassure him. the grip on your hand only grows tighter, crimson lips of his suck against the underside of your chin.
so damn needy,
mussed strands of white tickle against your forehead the closer he presses his body into you. gojo was shivering, just a few minutes in pussy and as if it was a game—he’d be on the last level, game over. albeit, you feel it too. the warmth, it turns into a sweltering hot. as his hips rock, his whines start to become more vocal. he sneaks a hand down to feel the area that’s being stuffed, a thumb skims against your tummy before he moans,
“feel me t-there, yeah?” he whispers, a cute attempt at dirty talk but alas, it’s subtle. gojo easily folds once your eyes meet his gaze.
you moan, intertwining your fingers with his, moaning out a soft, “yeah,” and you sound out of breath yourself.
he’s jerking back and forth — his pace, his tempo . . wasn’t too slow or two fast, perfect.
with a quivering bottom lip, he leans in to lick against the outer shell of your ear. your cunt’s singing in harmony, sloshes of wet that leaves its metaphoric vocal cords and you start to get a bit louder. “f-fuck, ‘toru right there—fuuuck.”
“s-shit, you’re so pretty,” he pants, repeating his ways at coating your entire face with his wet kisses. you had him weak, entirely. you found it a bit silly considering how this could have happened anytime—anytime at all, all he had to do was ask. but gojo being gojo, he was not only a man with barely any experience, but he was nervous. he’s always had a bit of a crush on you but confessing sounded way scary. it was as if this entire thing was mere coincidence though, you happen to find out he’s not only a sloppy eater but,
he’s a camboy.
part of you wonders what he does on his streams. if you saw him rubbing one off while thinking about you—you could only imagine what other lewd antics he participated in.
gojo’s rutting into you at a much more quicker pace, he’s whining into your neck;
forgetting to praise you, and it’s more of the other way around. you’re cupping his face, stroking his cheek before repeating in that same melodic voice, “good boy, ‘s so good, makin’ me feel good, ‘toru baby.”
your voice, oh your voice, he could listen to it all day. you feel the constant twitch of his cock inside you and he whines every time your ankle rubs down his back. with the way your pussy holds him hostage— it’s so provocative, his reaction time was as slow as a sloth, droopy eyes stare at you before he grunts out a pleading, “f-fuck, ‘s gonna come,” and his voice sounds like a soft purr, gojo was like a kitten to you— so cute, his pout always make things more true too. he’s groaning in your ear, fat balls thwacking against you before his ears starts to ring. you’re moaning with him, bodies thrusting in sync that it’s almost like a pornographic choreography. “ugh, i- i feel it, ‘m gonna cum so much. so hot, gonna die.”
“breathe, baby,” you whisper, pulling his face closer to you. his chubby cheeks squish together once he’s within your grasp, the sharp piston of his hips makes you moan. his thrusts gets a bit sloppy and you press a kiss onto his mouth. “mwah,” you hum, watching how flustered he gets at a lick of your affection. “you wanna finish inside, don’t you?”
gojo whimpers. “yeah, yeah. really bad,” and the moment you suggest that, his ears perk cutely. he’s gotta be careful though—with a cunt as addicting as yours, he just might end up falling in love.
speaking of love, it’s as if heart eyes pour into his irises as he glances at you—again, metaphorically of course. gojo gulps at the tender touch of your fingers, leaning in to nip a kiss near your neck. through muffled words, he mewls. “i wanna fill you up. ‘s only fair since you’re milking me s-so much, ‘m so thirsty,” and he’s just babbling, pulling him close—he whines once he feels your finger glide through his sensitive undercut again. “hngh, gonna break me. let me make a mess in you please? i’ll even eat it out of you once ‘m done.”
you’re tempted at his pleads, giggling before dragging him into a deep kiss. “such a blabbermouth,” you tease between kisses, staring to feel the tears of sweat race down the sides of your forehead also— with a sly smile, you lick the drool that was about to run down the side of his lip. “finish in me, ‘toru. it’s okay. be my messy boy.”
his eyes dilated once he hears that,
your messy boy.
he even repeats it, “y-your messy boy, yeah, ‘m so messy for you, roomie,” and as he’s preparing for his inevitable release, he sinks into your warm embrace. “one more kiss, h-hold me.” and as if on command, you yoke his head in close, giving him a deep, passionate kiss. his pulsing heart beats through his ears. gojo—by this point, he was already whipped. the way his hips pick up, growing more sloppy and deranged—he’s feral.
the feverish under parts of his thighs burn, longing for its incoming conclusion climax—yet, as your smoldering heat gnashes against his, it finally comes.
with a primal gasp, it’s here.
the nirvana—euphoria, whatever it could have been called to describe this feeling, it was here.
gojo whimpers, going into a complete spazzing fit once he feels the slow orgasmic waves of himself starting to shoot literal humid blanks inside you.
it’s hot, parching hot— your heat against smelts his, it scratches a fervor itch in your brain. his tongue rummages the inside of your mouth again as he’s painting the insides of your gummy walls with his snowy white color.
satiny ropes of your roommate’s seed trickle into you, it’s so gooey and hot that it starts to stick against the inner parts of your thighs. each rough kiss reflects the same desire the both of you share before he shudders.
slow thrusts, he’s barely moving as fast as he was before but he’s still active. he wants to make sure you feel every inch he’s saved for you,
for weeks, months, maybe even years—
“god,” he whimpers out, pulling away from your glossed lips—a pretty cobweb of spit departs from each and he happily laps it up with his tongue. who knew your roommate was nothing more than a mere freak.
not you, not by a long shot.
it takes a moment for him to catch his breath, with a flustered look— gojo’s now clingy.
he doesn’t wanna move away from you, nor does he wanna exactly pull out. not just yet, he’s plugged you full of sticky cum that was threatening to ooze of your hole before he kisses the bridge of your nose. “that was so awesome.”
and just like that, the mood’s ruined—you pant, he’s hovering over you, his weight barely on you before you sigh.
“you know,” you change the subject, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “your moans, you sound more like a girl than me, ‘s kinda hot.”
“whaaat?” he grumbles, his sweetened pout forever returning. “that’s not nice, ‘n besides if it’s anyone who moans louder it’s you, angel.”
you kiss near the twitching corner of his lip, watching his sudden attitude shift like a light switch and he’s now a puddle. “you finished a bit early though,” and with your arms wrapping around him again, you speak in a soft voice. “wanna go again? you’re a natural, ‘toru.”
“please,” he whines with a nod, feeling how sweltering hot it felt to be still buried into the comforting tightness of your cunt. “this time, i wanna try doggy.”
“okay, pretty boy,” you tease, leaning in for another one of gojo’s sloppy, need kisses. just before he could pull out, the door springs open. the hinges scream once it pulls back and the two of you both look to see what the racket was.
as the door opens, it was geto—gojo’s best friend, and he had the most disgusted look on his face.
with a scrunched up face, he utters. “i’m never running errands for you two again, what the actual fuck.”
and as he turns his heel to leave, gojo snorts. “suguboooo! aw, don’t leave just yet. you can always joinnn.”
#★vegasbaby.#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader smut#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#jjk fic#cw sex mention
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo#pjo series#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#pjo x reader#pjo x you
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⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.
He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.
Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.
Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.
At least, that's what he thought.
There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.
"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.
Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.
But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.
"Why, thank you, darling!"
He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.
He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.
The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.
Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
You have some nerve, he thinks.
Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.
It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.
So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.
There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.
"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.
"Why would something be the matter?"
He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.
You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"
"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."
You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?
Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.
His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.
"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.
Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.
His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.
"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."
#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor fluff#alastor hazbin hotel
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apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:
Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.
Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.
I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.
I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.
Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.
So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.
Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.
What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.
So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .
honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.
if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.
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Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"
✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters
✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.
this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡
There's tension in the air.
"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."
You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.
It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.
Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"
"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."
As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.
"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.
You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.
"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."
"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"
"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"
"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."
You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.
"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.
"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.
"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.
You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.
So much for a day off.
You can't breathe.
"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.
Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"
There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.
"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.
Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.
Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"
"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.
"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"
"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."
Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail imagines#honkai star rail x you#star rail x reader#hsr x you#jing yuan x reader#x reader#reader insert
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‘your lover may not be the best in showing his affection for you, but when he does try, it’s always in the ways you least expect.’
☀︎｜tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, slight angst, suggestive. subtly implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). size difference. mentions of hickeys. reader gets called ‘princess / little girl.’ based on an anon request.
“am home.” toji announces under his breath after locking the front door. he kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards your shared bedroom. as expected, you were there, body wrapped in a thick blanket to protect it from the recently cold temperatures.
you smile and toji’s fatigue becomes nonexistent. it was like he hadn’t just fought for his life for almost two hours straight — making money to quite literally survive. and to provide for you in the best way he could.
“ah, hi, babe! welcome hom—” your sentence was cut short by a heavy weight settling down atop your chest. toji’s body presses you back into the mattress, big hands instantly searching for their desired destination; that being your waist.
his warm breath - the heavy sigh that carried his worries - instantly softens the look in your eyes. it was this vulnerable side of your lover that you adored most. it wasn’t a sight you got to see often after all.
toji wordlessly attaches his lips to your exposed neck as he withdraws the blanket from your body. even though he has yet to utter a single word to you, his actions told you all, “missed you, toji.”
he mumbles something incoherent in response which you could guess were words of acknowledgement. you were ticklish, your skin tingling with every peck left by the dark-haired man whom you loved dearly.
“were ya waitin’ for me?” toji’s voice was muffled, his mouth busy kissing and sucking your skin. his rough fingers move under your clothes and run up to your shoulders—freeing them from the straps of your top.
you tilt your head to the right so he could gain more access to your skin. you didn’t protest nor said anything about toji’s sudden display of affection. you rub his back and allow a hum of satisfaction to escape your throat, “mhm. was waiting for you all night.”
your voice sounds like a soothing lullaby to the older man. a heavy breath leaves his lips and his sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulder blades abruptly come to a halt.
toji rests his head in the crook of your neck. the pad of his thumb travels up and down the marks he had left—his saliva subtly glistening under the light from the bedside lamp.
“tsk. i told ya not to stay up f’me, princess.” your lover grumbles with his tired eyes half-closed, fingers not stopping their rubbing motion, “but i guess there’s no point in tellin’ you that right now.”
toji still can’t understand why you go to great lengths to show your love for him. he’s a cold hearted assassin, a man whom is feared by many including his own clan and yet you love him unconditionally.
despite it all — he still appreciates the fact that you stay up to welcome him home. even if he may not directly show that said appreciation.
“‘i told ya not to stay up for me,’” you teasingly mimic toji’s deep voice and can only laugh at your own antics afterwards. however, a sudden pinch to your side makes you squirm and yelp. it didn’t stop there; toji took the opportunity whilst you were caged underneath him to remind you of who’s boss.
soon enough your high pitched squealing and broken giggles is all the noise that fills the room.
“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji grunts as he blocks your futile attempts to escape. he could see the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your body writhing around the best it could and your little hands trying desperately to push him away.
you shake your head and continuously apologise between loud giggles, vision blurry from the tears of joy. there’s a triumphant smirk on toji’s face once he notices how quickly you gave up your act of confidence, “heh, that’s what i thought.”
one of his hands gathers both of your wrists and effortlessly pins them above your head. with a grin, your lover kisses his way down to your neck again — this time being more passionate.
you take the chance to calm yourself down, chest still heaving with each breath. a pout forms on your lips, but was swiftly replaced by a content smile due to the giddy feeling in your chest.
it’s playful moments like these that remind you of the many reasons why you’ve fallen in love with a man like toji. to others, he might be nothing but a monster—a ruthless and cruel individual—but to you, he’s everything you need and vice versa.
toji’s lips were soft, yet lightly rough to the touch. they’re chapped from the cold temperature he had to withstand when he was outside. you felt bad; you had been laying in bed all night, wrapped up in multiple blankets whilst your lover was quietly suffering.
you know that if you tell toji your current worries, he’ll brush it off with a simple ‘tha’s just how it is’ or a ‘don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that’. still, you cannot help but be concerned about the way he easily disregards his own health.
“toji,” you call out his name as his kisses reach the curve of your breasts. the older man lifts his head in response, eyebrows slightly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips.
you push down the lump in your throat. your warm hands cup his face and you could feel his stubble prickling your palms. you lower your gaze to the rest of his body — finally getting a good look at his worn out physique.
there were faint droplets of blood hidden right under the collar of his shirt. ones toji probably forgot to wipe away after his mission. his black shirt clings to his torso, the dark spots of sweat subtly evident and the small tears in the fabric proof of his hard work.
you could care less about the fact that toji hadn’t taken a shower before cuddling with you. the first thing he did when stepping into the apartment, was to search for you. that alone told you enough: he needed the comfort your presence brings him — he just didn’t know how to convey that message.
“kiss me.” you whisper and your lover immediately complies with zero hesitation; that’s exactly what he had waited for you to say. his lips crash down onto yours, his large hands hold you by your waist and his tongue brushes against yours like it was the first and last time you’d kiss.
toji’s breath hitches the moment he feels you tenderly scratch his arms with your nails. you always do that to calm his nerves after a stressful day—grazing the tips of your nails back and forth against his bare skin. and it works wonders each time.
“fuck,” the dark-haired man curses in a low tone. his grip tightens on your body and his lips detach from yours. you notice the look in his eyes once he opens them; the look of pure love for you, “i missed you so much — so fuckin’ much.”
you softly giggle at his passionate words and steal another kiss from him before settling back against the pillows. your hands travel upwards to play with his damp hair whilst your legs wrap around his waist.
toji gladly accepts your affection and settles down on top of your body again, careful not to completely crush you with his weight. his face was buried between your breasts, taking in the familiar scent of you which calms him down even more.
“i’m glad you’re back home.” you whisper lovingly whilst continuing to massage his scalp. your tired lover answers with a curt nod and a sigh — this time one of content instead of exhaustion.
“yeah, home.” toji wasn’t referring to your shared apartment. he was referring to you; his forever home. there was an overwhelming amount of love in his heart for you and only you.
if only he could properly express those feelings to you. if only he could express himself.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#toji x you#toji fluff#jjk x y/n#toji x y/n#female reader
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