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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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Hello!! Question about clone^2, what are the styles of Danny and Damian? Like day to day stuff for example. Does Danny buy Damian the traditional 8 yr old clothes (dinosaurs with sunglasses tees, stuff like that) or does Damian already have a style he likes? And Danny! I know that Sam gives Danny various punk hairstyles and that he prefers gender neutral stuff but outside of that what would Danny wear in general?

You don’t have to answer of course, but I’ll give you a thank you in advance!

- kindest regards, Gas Can

I LOVE GETTING ASKS NO WORRIES MY GUY. AS MY FAVORITE SAYING GOES 'THE QUICKEST WAY TO STARRY'S HEART IS THROUGH HER ASK BOX'.

And I love this question, this is a good one!! If damian's 8 then he's been around the fenton house for about a year or so. I can't see baby dames ever willingly wearing traditional child-like clothes, at least not in the beginning when he first arrives at the Fenton house. Which he'd be around 6-7.

Danny tells him (with the help of google translate) that he's going shopping to buy him new clothes sometime during Damian's early stay since the little man had been wearing the same clothes he arrived in for a while (which you can find here with the reblog of the colored version) and honestly he probably asks damian if he wants to come along to pick something out. he doesn't know the kid's style and it might be a bad idea because damian might make a run for it, but danny's caught him before at this point.

(plus he'll need help carrying bags - his hands are freshly injured and still smarting. they're not as bad as they will be in the future, but hand injuries hurt. consider it repayment for being the cause of it, damian)

And early Damian would choose clothes that remind him most of the league - so dark colors, more formal styles, think like how you'd imagine his original template to dress like, if you will. Danny is side-eyeing him in judgy bewilderment, but says nothing other than to complain about the price tag. Of which Damian has no idea what he's saying. He'd stick with those clothes until he has his little moment with Danny in the OPS Center where he finally tells him he's a clone (even though Danny already knows) and that he doesn't want to go back. After that he'd reluctantly and steadily start branching out.

So eight year old Damian, whose begun to chill out more and act more like a child his age would? I don't think he'd ever wear graphic t-shirts about kids shows, but I can see him wearing graphic tees of like, animal facts on it, animals, stars, etc etc, and then plain shirts in a variety of increasing color. I have this mental image that Danny buys Damian one of those joke shirts that says "bro I'm 8" / "this is what an awesome eight year old looks like" (with two thumbs pointing at itself) and Damian wears it to school a week later. Damian's variety of shirts increases the more comfortable he gets and the more he comes into his own identity.

Damian also, steadily, keeps stealing Danny's flannels even if they're almost comically large on him. They're comfy and he's embracing his role as baby brother (and also he really looks up to him because he understands, to an extent, of what danny's done for him). Danny and the Fentons start buying Damian his own after a while because, well, he can't keep taking Danny's.

And Danny! I'm so glad you mentioned Danny, my favorite GNC boy. I keep forgetting myself sometimes that I gave him long hair, even if it is my favorite thing about him. And honestly? Danny doesn't really do much with his hair if Sam isn't styling it. He usually lets it stay down on his head, and then pulls it back into a ponytail or a half-ponytail at school depending on what he's doing (gym vs a test).

He keeps it in a ponytail as phantom to keep it out of his face, and then when he's working on a Ghost Case he sometimes has it up in a (messy™) bun because the feeling of having his hair on his neck when its in a ponytail drives him nuts, especially when sleep deprived. Sam teaches him how to braid it back into a simple braid and its become a new fidget for him to braid his hair and then unbraid it. It's easier to keep off his face than a ponytail, so he sometimes braids it back when he's sneaking out as phantom. It happens more often once he gets skilled at it.

And danny's style! I know you probably only meant his hairstyle, but I also wanna talk about his aesthetic! He doesn't really put much into his appearance. Very teenager-y boy 'threw on the first thing i saw on a hanger/floor' type, but he kinda has a bit more of a casual, soft grungy-like look as an older teen. Just some hints of Sam's influence - and you know what, some of Tucker's as well because that's his best friend too.

(Off topic but 19yo Danny from my Childhood Friends Dead On Main au has a similar style that's a bit soft punk as well, and that is somewhat more intentional on CFAU Danny's part. Why make an au if I can't play dress up with my favorite character? :))

Mostly because I read a Spider-Man x DP fic that described Danny (from an outsider's pov) as looking kinda like a skater boy who listens to alt rock music and it's been my personal interpretation of him ever since. So he has band tees, flannels, graphic tees with jokes on them, shirts with astronomy facts on them, and idk if he'd ever buy ripped jeans but Sam has certainly bought him some and they fit so *shrugs* he wears them. And he has one or two of those denim jackets with the hoodie sewn inside it. And from Tucker he has a few turtlenecks because Tucker reads as a turtleneck-kinda guy, geek chic-ish.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #danny fenton is a clone #danny fenton is not the ghost king #damian wayne has a clone #the quickest way to starry's heart is through her ask box #its not a starry post unless its long #srsly tho i love getting asks even if i haven't answered them. so anyone who sends me an ask: i see them!! i love them!!! if i havent-#answered it its because I can't think of anything *to* say to it that i think would make a fulfilling ask. but i see it and i love it #unmentioned in the post but danny also has a few black croptops of the rave-variety from when he needs to pull what he likes to call a #'brucie wayne moment' and its my favorite part of the clone danny au bc youre gonna look me in the eye and say that there's a-#non-malicious TEENAGE bruce wayne clone running around and he DOESNT have a brucie wayne impression? brucie wayne is a #walking meme in of himself. absolutely a teenage clone of him would pretend to be him sometimes even if its a joke. he wouldnt get away wit #being bruce wayne considering the 30 year age gap BUT acting like him? he can do that AND make someone (or a dozen) swoon at the same time #danny has his identity crisis issues but that doesnt mean he can't have FUN with it. he shares a face with the biggest himbo alive yes he #will use that to his advantage when he's aware of it.#gas can anon #i love that signoff btw #brucie wayne is half the reason i made the clone danny au for a reason - the pure shenanigans of having his face #could potentially cause #like yeah he’s batman’s clone blah blah blah but BRUCIE WAYNE. THE BIMBO HIMSELF

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repurposedmeatlocker · 1 year

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I love it when people describe their pets as humans. Put in the tags what your pet, previous pets, or family member’s/friend’s pets would be like as humans :3

#gonna do my crayfish henry #he would be nb since I thought he was a boy but looking back I am pretty sure he was actually a female but it is a crayfish they dont care #they would look like a stereotypical nerd glasses and parted haircut and everything #would be super cynical but the moment something threatening happens he would cower away all scared but never will admit it #and then there is my betta kashmir #he's be an absolute flamboyant yet dorky himbo #the type of guy to giggle #rip to both #squack

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ghostinacardboardbox-oldblog · 2 years

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Just read all three episodes of Red Hood: Outlaws in under twenty minutes and now I don’t know how to be a person anymore.

#a little upset about the ‘Batman never felt like my family’ comment but otherwise it’s perfection y’all don’t understand #Artemis having a She-Ra moment was absolutely necessary and her Wonder Woman outfit is to die for #Bizarro is such a himbo I love it #all Jason content is good content #and the art is FANTASTIC #I’m obsessed #red hood: outlaws #red hood #dc comics #webtoon #dc #comics #jason todd #ghost posts from their box

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limerental · 2 years

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the more I watch of ST the more I'm like by god. how did I psychically get Steve's characterization and motivations vaguely right not having watched a single scene with him in it.

#crawling forward.... hello......#his caretaker boymom energy. his absolute himbo moments. his confident plowing ahead just right on in blindly.#i'm holding him by the scruff of his neck and patting him gently

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l-e-g-i-o-n-losh · 2 years

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Anyways what's a better one for opera #2 I'm unwilling to dismiss several centuries of art on one dud

#i wanted to like it bc i do like Mozart's other music (or at least i did when i was little?) and silly fantasy quest is right up my alley #but that was deeply unpleasant except a couple papageno himbo moments + queen of the night absolutely slaying #pamina im so sorry you cant live in a better story. hope the cult doesn't suck too bad

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13atoms · 1 month

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Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

“Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

“Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

“I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #fluff #fic #13atoms #im so sorry if this is ooc

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tacticalprincess · 1 month

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a/n i need him in ways that wouldve gotten me lobotomized in the 50s…

himbo!könig wanted your first time together to be special. after all the months of work he put in getting you to take him seriously, all of his dumb attempts at courting you, he wasn’t going to fumble his chances with you now.

he’s usually pretty confident in himself, almost to the point of delusion, but something about you makes him so nervous, and he can’t wrap his head around someone like you genuinely being interested in a goofy guy like him :( that’s why he misses all of the opportunities you give him to fuck you, always taking your hints and attempts at seducing him the wrong way…

“it’s so hot in here, köni.” “are you getting sick, liebchen? should i turn the air on?” “no, i think i’m wearing too many clothes…” “…you don’t look overdressed to me.”

at some point you start to question if he actually does want you in that way. but the way even the slightest touch from you has him popping boners is enough to shake you out of those doubts. everything about you seems to turn him on. he’s convinced you were plucked straight from his wettest dreams, and he can’t stand to be in close proximity to you for too long without being affected. but he thinks he hides it well enough— always covering the proof of his arousal with a subtle pillow over his lap whenever you’re around.

of course he wants to make the move, but he wants to do it properly. it happens the night he takes you to a small town carnival. he planned on kissing you on top of the ferris wheel, but he unfortunately surpassed the weight limit. instead he holds your hand on the rollercoasters and you feed each other fair food. he insists on stopping at every game until he’s won you too many stuffed animals for you to carry and eventually you’re forced to leave.

he’s shaking in his boots by the time you get back to his place, tripping over the mess on his floor and stumbling over his words. sensing his hesitancy, you’re the one to lead him to his room, your hand wrapped around his large finger.

“are you sure, maus? we don’t have to, i have DVDs–”

“shut up and fuck me, köni.” you huff, already fully naked and exposed on his bed. “please.”

he plans to take it slow, he really does. getting the chance to please you, to be let inside your hot body for the first time, is a privilege he doesn’t take lightly. he wants you both to savor it, he has to make it good for you :(

instead, he absolutely loses himself the moment his fat, pulsing cock sinks into your gummy cunt. he goes full caveman, your headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts for all your poor neighbors to hear :( all thoughts leave him when he’s sheathed inside of you except for how perfect your sopping pussy feels around him, borderline animalistic as he uses your smaller body as a fleshlight. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your ass accompanied by your pretty whines and moans only spur him on.

he fucks you in missionary so it’s more intimate, but there’s nothing romantic about the way he’s mounting you. you thank god for making you flexible as he’s pushing your knees up to your ears, seemingly trying to push his cock deeper than your small cunny has room for, stretching your poor cunt past its limit. you swear you can feel him all the way in your stomach, mushroom tip bruising your cervix with each thrust.

you don’t even notice you’re sobbing until he does. “are you okay, liebe? does it hurt?” he asks through heavy pants. “fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t think i can stop myself, you just— you feel so fucking good. you’re so… warm… squeezing me so tight. just- just hang in there for me, ja?”

your brain can’t work for long enough to form words, rough thrusts drawing nothing but high pitched staccato “uh-uh-uh”’s from your throat. you’re drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, the way his heavy body squishes yours, barricading you in so you’re completely engulfed by him. his hairy stomach ruts against your sensitive, puffy clitty until you’re clenching around him, your sudden orgasm draining the cum out of his tight balls. “so good. fuck, you’re so perfect. best pussy i’ve ever felt.” he fucks you through the high, mindlessly overstimulating you both until you have to physically push him off of you.

you might’ve created a monster…

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patchodraws · 2 days

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my hot take for today, rwby gets better when you realise that blake definitely did have a crush on sun in the early days but didn’t follow up on it because she realised post-fall that her feelings were stronger for yang and that sun just wasn’t the one.

1) it makes all the eclipse moments in early volumes not feel like they’re shitting on bumbleby (the eventual canon couple)

2) it highlights that yes, blake is indeed bi

3) it tells a very realistic story of how some crushes just aren’t meant to be

do i still think blake had a bit of a crush on yang at beacon? absolutely. do i still think yang fell first and was so head over heels for blake at beacon? absolutely! blake seriously has a type, and sun and yang are both that type.

the difference comes in how they treat her. sun may be fun and flirty, but he’s also senseless and pushes blake out of her comfort zones far too often without realizing why she doesn’t appreciate it. yang on the other hand is patient with her, invites her into her life to have fun without pushing her way in and trampling all over her boundaries.

and that’s what’s fun about sun and yang being so similar !! like, not only does blake have a type, but it shows the variance in that type and what she needs in a relationship. it’s a great narrative !!

and it works extra well when you consider that sun doesn’t get jealous and actively encourages blake to go on her own way (subtext: to get her girl), because then it makes him somewhat of a narrative foil to ilia, who was jealous of adam and let that jealousy fester, as opposed to sun, who let go of those conflicting feelings to let blake — who he undoubtedly loves — be herself and do what she wants. (it’s also why i really love the dynamic of sun and ilia, himbo and lesbian duo getting over the girl they loved)

long story short, eclipse isn’t bad but it also wasn’t meant to be and that’s okay. better, even, for the story they wanted to tell for blake.

#rwby #bumbleby #eclipse #rwby bumbleby #rwby bumblebee #rwby meta #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #sun wukong

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ryan-my-babygirl · 9 months

Text

Dating Ken Headcanons

Ken x Reader

My favourite Malewife <33

Literally THE himbo idc what anyone says

Always sleeps over at your house because he doesn’t have one.

Like—he just climbs through your window and collapses on your bed

Favourite activity is cuddling

Sometimes he pretends to get hurt surfing just so you can take him home to cuddle

hugs you from behind and his biceps flex as his arms drape around you

matching your outfits, he’s the ultimate accessory and takes that job very seriously

takes you out to dinner even though he’s broke you always end up paying but it’s the thought that counts anyways

smackable ass

hands picks you flower bouquets and keeps a few for himself, so that when they start to wither he knows to get you new flowers

always offers to carry you in case your feet hurt from walking in heels

loves it when you kiss him on his cheek or forehead, he’s so tender and melts everytime you show him love :(

absolutely loves hickeys, doesn’t matter if he’s giving or receiving them.

if he’s giving them to you then everyone knows you’re his, and if he’s receiving them then everyone knows you love him. it’s a win-win situation for him

untangling your hair from your accessories

like you might be mid conversation with him and he just reaches over the table, fixing a couple strands that got stuck in your earrings

keeps hair ties on his wrists for you

such an attention whore

literally just smiling at him makes his heart melt because he adores you and loves your attention he also wants the other Ken’s to know that you’re taken

he initiated your first kiss

was really nervous

“Can I say something?”

“Of course, Ken.”

“Now that we’re girlfriend boyfriend I want to do something, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

He hesitates for a moment, his heart beating faster. He reaches out gently to hold yours your hands.

“I really want to kiss you.”

“I really want to kiss you too, Ken.”

“Are you sure? I just…want this to be perfect.”

He inches closer, his heart pounding in his chest. You meet him halfway, closing most of the gap. His eyes fix on your lips. Your breaths intertwine as the anticipation builds.

“It doesn’t need to be, I just want it to be with you.”

You close the remaining gap and he gently presses his lips against yours. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss. After a moment, you pull back, faces still close, smiling at each other.

#barbie #the barbie movie #ken #ken x reader #ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #headcanons #x reader #dating headcanons #ken x you #ken x y/n #barbie 2023

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simp4konig · 8 months

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Self-aware König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: ~2800

König slowly comes to the realisation that he was in a game, that he was never real, and that he'll never be with reader.

His sense of self deteriorates as all he wishes for is to escape from the boundaries of his code and be real.

In this instance, ignorance really *was* bliss.

*Slow burn

*König has a mental breakdown at one point lmao

Edit on same day: HOLY SHIT thank u for so many notes!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹🥹💞💞💞💞💞 You guys are so nice 🫣🫣

*Self-aware AU belongs to @puff0o0 !!!🥳🥳 (The girl behind the disguise🥸... Was rthis loser all along!!!!! 😈😈imagine giving permission to 👍THIS 👍idiot to write Ur fic idea lol u made a mistake 💀💀💀ok but idid my best not to ruin their awesome au with this pathetic controbution and jope I honoured it well 😭😭 but fr i had been stalking their profile since the begigning of their self aware! au and ivloved their acc 🥺🥺I love their imagines and how they fulfill the request yet leave enoith for imaginstion !! (which, don't mind if I do🤠all of the König scenarios added tovmy incessant daydreamimg hhhhhhhhh oh no),, and when they followed me I was staring at my phone with the BIGGEST goofy grin on my face 🥹🥹Thank YOU sm!!!!! 🫂MUCH LOVE!!!!!!!!!!💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

*To anyone waiting (I've gotten such lovely messages from people saying they liked my first fic (which made me so happy as it was the first ever fanfiction I published online🥹🥹)), Part TWO of my first fic is on its way !!!,, I didn't want to make u guys all fluffy 🥰🩷💘✨🤗 inside only to tear your hearts 💔🥀🗡️🗡️😭 in two witj this 😿 dw I promise to reward u guys with another fic and cute himbo (and absolute menace while on the battlefield 👹)König <33, with King X König having more wholesome interactions in the near future!!

If you had told König that he wasn't real, he would have looked at you blankly and said nothing, passing off your suggestion as a joke of sorts that he possibly couldn't understand.

Perhaps if he was ever faced with a situation like this he'd question you about it, but nothing more, and drop the subject at hand.

Honestly, the likelihood of him ever thinking over this twice would have been slim, as he would not pay your philosophy much thought shortly afterwards.

In fact, he believed that his life as a Kortac operator was indeed a real one, and he wore his embroided Austrian flag on his shoulder with something next to pride, always praised for his outstanding efforts by his superiors in the same tone of voice. To König, however, it meant nothing, and he'd only nod his head in an attempt at gratitude, turning his back to the commemoration in indifference.

Despite not remembering anything of his childhood, his upbringing — hell, even any of his past prior to becoming a soldier — König didn't ever think over it too deeply. The overwhelming pressure to make sure missions went without a hitch and constant deployments to foreign countries left no time to reminisce, especially not when his work was so demanding, and it only made sense to him that they were the reason for his forgotten memories.

Besides, even if he had time to spare and be inactive, he had to stay focused, as being an operator meant that he couldn't let any nostalgia or softness distract him from his tasks.

On the battlefield, König worked on autopilot, performing finishing kills with efficiency and with machine-like precision. Reacting quickly to enemies ambushing him from behind or an enemy that was laying on the floor behind the corner waiting to shoot him in the head, he'd eliminate the targets with bullets to spare. Really, he was unstoppable, and he was on a killing streak.

Until he was shot in the head one day.

The moment it happened, the shot was like an explosion that almost obliterated his eardrums, outside noise deafened like his head was underwater. All he could hear was the high-pitched ringing, and it held an uncanny resemblance to the beeping of a heart rate monitor machine that he would never lay next to, dying instead on a bed of cold rubble and broken shrapnel.

Somehow conscious enough to look around, his mind was completely empty, eyes attempting to adjust. What he'd assumed would happen in a time like this was his mind flashing with memories like a movie reel in his last moments, his entire life playing out in his final dying seconds.

Yet he remembered nothing. No Mama, no Papa, no childhood or any his life trials, nothing that had changed him and moulded his character, not even his motive for enlisting into the military in the first place.

The part that was most unnerving about all this was his complete apathy to it all.

Did he even care that he was dying? Shouldn't he at least feel regret at having essentially been the one to pull the trigger, cutting his own life short with the lifestyle he had committed himself to? Why wasn't he scared, sad, even bewildered at the very least, shocked that his life would soon end so unceremoniously? Fuck, not even mild disappointment at least at not even had travelled the world, and failing to ever explore any place besides abandoned buildings housing hostages and terrorist bases swarming with foes? Nothing at all?

Unable to process his situation, König just... laid there, unmoving, while his surroundings moved in double speed. Nondescript figures holding rifles wearing camo and balaclavas blurred in his vision, and he couldn't differentiate the enemy from his own.

Slowly losing consciousness, he felt his world darken around him, dulling his senses to the mayhem unfolding in real time. He'd accepted his fate, and could do nothing about it. That was that. And this was it.

It was a shock to his system when a silhouetted hand pulled him up by the arm limp by his side and shouted in his face, "Get up, soldier! This is no place to die!"

König didn't need to be told twice. He nodded his head robotically, his eyes looking ahead of him with a thousand-yard stare, and not even sparing a glance to the anonymous ally that saved him, he picked up the his gun off the floor and loaded another magazine into it with a satisfying click.

In his delirium, he worked on autopilot after that, shooting at anything that shot at him first. Too much in a daze, he was past the point of realising that the gaping bullet wound had suddenly sealed itself, vanishing entirely and leaving no mark that it was ever there.

After that, König didn't realise that he wasn't real when any injuries still didn't affect him. He assumed that his insensitivity to wounds was a result of a high pain tolerance, and his body healing miraculously was his ability to regenerate fast.

Although he would lay on the ground, his arm outstretched while through gritted teeth shouting: "Scheisse! Ich brauche hier Hilfe! I need some help over here!"; truth be told, he'd only do so when he after getting used to seeing so many bodies writhe in pain like so, and something for some reason told him that it was the right thing to do.

Waking up moments after not far from the spot he supposedly died in a daze, all bullet wounds gone, he didn't have time in the moment to think over the specifics of his death. Maybe he was hallucinating, or remembering things incorrectly.

König began to suspect that something was wrong when he'd hear his operators say the same sentence word for word. He rationalised that the constant shooting that never ceased even late into the night and dangerous missions that left him with far too many close calls put pressure on his mind. This mania amongst soldiers in the military was a common phenomenon after all, so it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise for König when he felt waves of déjà vu at hearing statements he could have sworn were related to him before at one point, and going to infiltrate areas that were vaguely familiar.

At some point, he thought something was REALLY wrong when he was storming a military base with... a sniper rifle.

Time stood still as he inspected the weapon in his hands, eyes wide.

That... was impossible. He had never been a sniper. True, he had wanted to be one from the beginning, yet he had adapted to his role as the main means of assault, always on the offensive rather on the defensive. So then... Why?

Adding to that, his appearance would differ. They were subtle changes at first, yet still noticeable: a red helmet instead of his black; an ochre hood instead of his black veil with its signature red streaks; a sniper camoflauge when that disguise had never been in his possession before; and even a gas mask with a hazmat suit when he had been wearing something else altogether on the helicopter heading towards its destination.

Although König hadn't know it yet, his reality was slowly shattering along the cracks, but he stubbornly fought the gnawing feeling that ate him up from the inside. He had to stay focused, he repeated to himself. No time to ponder when a task was at hand.

"All units ready your weapons, and in position immediately." Through his walkie-talkie, a voice began counting down the time left before the mission would begin. "60 seconds."

König checked all of his gear, making sure that everything was in place and he was fully equipped. A rifle, a side-arm, ammo, grenades, a med kit for an emergency and a knife. "40 seconds."

Looking up into the sky and straight into the sun, he didn't need to cover his sight as his eyes weren't affected by it at all. Yet, his eyes squinted in confusion, sensing that he was seeing something that he wasn't meant to see behind the glowing eye. "20 seconds."

He saw more than an eye. An ear, a nose, then a mouth. A face.

He saw you.

You were looking at him through a screen, holding a controller and waiting to start playing your game.

His reality shattered all at once, and he stumbled on his feet, unable to regain his balance, feeling himself go weak in the knees. He tuned out the all-important seconds through the communication device, unable to compose himself as for the first time ever he struggled to breathe.

Suddenly, all of it made sense.

People telling him the same things and never deviating from the topic of the mission, the reawakenings, the pain insensitivity — all of it was because none of it was never real.

People never branched off into other topics of conversation because their sole existence was limited to a few hand-selected voiceliness and idle animations. With each upgrade and level up, König had gotten praise from from him superiors, which explained how emotionless their announcements always sounded and why they were so constant.

The frequent brushes with death weren't a matter of luck, and instead it was just his entity respawning until a certain condition was met, until either Kortac or Specgru came out victorious — otherwise, he could "die" as many times as it took until the time ran out.

He was unfazed by bullets that grazed him and knives that tore though his flesh as he could physically feel no pain, his very existence artificial, his skin composed of pixels with no human matter hidden beneath them.

And, his inability to trace back to before he was transferred to Kortac was all because it was all he was programmed to know. There was no childhood. There was no Mama or Papa. It was just him in this world, and he had been manufactured, his thoughts and behaviours fabricated.

For a moment, he considered you the creator of his word, his God, and felt forsaken. He wanted to curse you, to snap your neck in his hands and watch your head drop lifelessly in his hold.

Yet it became apparent that you weren't the one behind this realm. Seeing the headphones strapped to your head and the controller held in anticipation in your hands, you were simply indulging in a past time, and weren't to blame for his state in any way. It wasn't your fault that you were unknowingly playing as a König trapped in the game.

You let out a groan of frustration, mashing buttons on your controller in an attempt to get König to move.

"What the fuck is going on?!" You hissed, trying in any way you could to start playing. Checking your router and the game's ping, you saw that your connection was secure, and that there was no reason for König to be frozen in place. "Fucking piece of shit console."

König shook his head, still disbelieving and unable to accept his fictional reality, yet hearing the sound of your voice made everything an even tougher pill to swallow. He had to stay in character. For you; it was the least that he could do.

After the initial lag at the beginning of the match, the game went smoothly and you couldn't find any faults. However, you suddenly noticed that your movements over König improved, moving with more fluidity and suddenly taking less damage than what you would normally use to. Headshot after headshot and kills all of the time poured onto on your screen until you'd find yourself being ganged up by bitter players wanting to ruin your streak as revenge.

Still, you topped the leaderboards with a new personal record that night. 97 kills to 0 deaths flashed on your screen, and you jumped up from your gaming chair, ecstatic, almost knocking it over in the process.

König felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you smile and jump around excitedly, and that's when he had found his purpose.

From that moment on, you became his lifeline. You gave the unfeeling König something to live for, a motive to keep fighting that he hadn't been given when being created in the game — for you and your greater good.

Really, you made him feel things: made him feel alive; made him fight with more passion and determination when your happiness was on the line.

He fell... In love.

The feelings and emotions he felt in his chest chest were genuine, and weren't pre-written in a script or manipulated by a third-party. Even the bullets that would pierce through his gear and leave him on the ground withering in agony was worth it, and he'd exchange his invincibility any day to feel what he felt when he saw your face, and the smile that tugged at your lips when you were revived or got a difficult kill.

His love for you was immortal, and it would persist through generations and could last for a lifetime, and König was almost certain that you could feel all of his energy channelling through your TV.

He found himself lovingly staring at you through the screen, admiring you as if you were an ephemeral being, a beautiful angel, even when your hair was greasy, your old tee had armpit stains and your eyes were bloodshot from how long you had been playing. Really, none of that put König off — if anything, all of those made you so distinctly you, so human.

Yet, König was in love with someone that was practically in another dimension and he would never speak to them, never touch them, never share thoughts and pass the time doing everything and nothing with them. None of that, because he wasn't real.

Had his life improved now they he had grown self-awareness? Had his ignorance really been bliss before his revelation? Perhaps if he had been another NPC that only gained manipulated consciousness whenever the player spawned in the map he wouldn't be so stricken with grief and crouched over in agony, the knuckles on his hands turning white from how fervently he was gripping his mask. He'd hyperventilate off-screen, sometimes the torment being too much.

Being so close to you yet being restricted to his three-dimensional world was bittersweet at the least, and internal suffering at most. His insatiable craving to be with you, and you with him only, fuelled his desperation, and he tried to keep you with him for as long as possible through any means necessary.

When you selected an operator that wasn't König, your game glitched heavily and would even crash whenever you made the mistake of even complimenting their design, and God forbid whenever you tried to play as someone other than him, as your console would near explode.

When you'd boot up a different game on your PlayStation, your loading screen would suddenly transport you back to the one of MW2, König greeting you with a voiceline that he reserved and perfected just for you:

"Welcome back, schatz. I have been waiting for you." Because he treasured you, and you were the only person that he could ever have feelings for.

Perhaps a recent update was fucking up your console, or it was just malfunctiong due to age. Either way, playing on an eight year old PS4 meant it could only run for so long and glitches like this were inevitable, yet you persisted in keeping the console running, not in your budget to afford to upgrade.

You'd search frantically on the internet for any information about the new König voicelines and whether there was any resolution for your problem when playing CoD, something telling you that your game was not functioning in the way that it should.

A thought crossed your mind that König had gone rogue, and you tried to laugh it off. Swallowing thickly, that still didn't relieve the deep pit in your stomach. If anything, the mere idea made it worse for you, and you'd get an intense gut feeling that would make you feel dizzy whenever König would make eyes contact with you and stand there, making you question whether he was acting out of character or not.

His attempts to keep you with him were commendable, yet none of it could change the fact that it would never be anything more than one-sided pining, a deep longing for a person whose world kept spinning while his stopped once you logged off the game, his day ending abruptly and being consumed by darkness.

For now, König had to content himself with being stuck behind a screen. He wished so desperately to be able to touch you, to escape this human generated world that trapped him in these bounds, and to find who he really is when with you. Shrouded in this deep black void, all he could do was wait patiently until you'd boot up the game again.

A hand was placed on his side of the screen longingly, resting it gently on the face on the other side.

Note: this wasn't meant to be so sad ,how did an idea of König popping out from the screen turnvto this 😭😭

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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months

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nsfw alphabet ft. monkey d. luffy!

set-up: no set up, just a collection of short nsfw drabbles featuring the most himboest himbo in town <;3

warning: nsfw themes (obviously 😭); mdni thankyouu <3

💟aftercare:

look, luffy sleeps in the middle of actual fights. there's no fucking way this man can stay up after y'all are done fucking (esp. if you've gone for a couple of rounds already). it's not too bad, since you get too tired too and he gives the best cuddles when he's passed out. just get used to getting the aftercare in the morning because that's when he checks up on you, get's you both some food (v.v. imp)

💟body part:

his favourite part of you: he is actually infatuated with every aspect of you but holy shit your tits??? he might actually be clinically obsessed with them. whenever you're cuddling, his hand finds your boobs (even if it's just to hold onto them lightly). he doesn't give a fuck about sizes and will 100% go on them for hours (i think it's his oral fixation lmaoo) his favourite part of himself: he loves his arms. other than the fact that they are one of his major weapons in any fights, he can see how you silently stare across his biceps when he's just helping around the deck. you always hold onto his arm when you're out in public too. he also loves when you get so pent up that you end up driving crescent cuts in his arms and shoulders as he fucks you.

💟 cum:

luffy's a nasty, messy man. do what you will with that info. he will cut off an arm and a leg just to finish anywhere on you whether it's inside, on your face or on your chest. just knowing that some essence of him remains on you drives him feral.

💟 dirty secret:

he's probably addicted to your smell. this sounds weird but i def think he's one of those people who steal their girlfriends underwear and then get off of them. like if he goes into the shower right after you and can smell your lingering shampoo and soap then he will fuck his fist as if it's you.

💟experience:

luffy was a complete dumbass in anything sexual but yk he is willing to learn anything that pleases you, so, once you teach him just what he's supposed to do, he will practice it on you till he reaches perfection. be prepared for a fuck lot of practice sessions tho.

💟favourite position:

i think his favourite position is missionary. he's a simple man. you're pretty as fuck and he's obsessed with your tits, what else is he supposed to do? but he's down to try just about anything and everything if you ask him to.

💟goofy:

goofy and luffy sound similar for a reason. im not saying he's giggling and kicking his feet as you go down on him but if something embarrassing happens, he needs atleast five minutes just to laugh it out. he doesnt do it in a mean-spirited way, ofcourse. he's just a silly little dude and that was funny.

💟hair:

on you: he literally doesn't care. it's totally your decision. if you wish to keep it shaved/trimmed, great but if you cannot be bothered, then that's more than fine too. he is more than excited just to have you to himself, he doesn't really care about anything more than that.

on himself: again, he doesn't really care. but incase you say that you wish he kept himself a certain way, then he'd go out of his way to pay heed to your preferences. your wish is his command.

💟intimacy (how romantic is he during it?):

luffy isn't a inherently romantic person. romance and love for him come in the form of small moments and acts of kindness rather than gigantic speeches and gestures. so in the traditional sense, he isn't romantic. but he will always make sure you're comfortable and feeling well. and to him, that is peak romance.

💟jack off:

he has a very very high sex drive and he quickly learnt that you can't exactly keep up with that so, he usually masturbates whenever it gets too much and you're not available. prefers your hands over his tho. so, like, he only does it himself if he absolutely needs to. otherwise, he would beg and whine till you please him.

💟kink:

food play (he loves you, he loves food, whats not clicking??) i think he definitely has a mommy kink (except he wont actually call you mommy. he's just act submissive and let you do whatever.) he loves to do whatever it is to please you when he's in that sub headspace but normally, he can get quite absorbed in the way he's feeling (especially when you're giving him head), so, dont blame him if he goes a teensy bit overboard.

💟location:

literally anywhere or planet earth or even beyond earth for that matter. just give him a surface to fuck you against and he'd handle the rest. in terms of favourite, i definitely think he's just sticking to the bed cause it keeps you comfortable and gives him enough safe, secure place to do whatever.

💟motivation (what gets them going):

anything and everything 😭🤭 his turn ons are so random. like you could be just chilling, talking to some crew member and suddenly he has this blinding urge to fuck you and there's nothing you can do about it.

💟no (things they are completely against):

although he's down with whatever, he won't do the classic stuff like scat, age play (extreme) or anything too disgusting. i think he's also pretty apprehensive about hitting you in bed cause he knows his strength and it feels against his entire moral code to hurt a woman. especially the woman he is in love with.

💟oral (prefer giving/receiving, how skilled are they?):

luffy goes both ways. he loves when you give him oral but he is also physically obsessed with you and will spend hours on end against your aching cunt, so, he likes going by turns. he doesn't even have to fuck you for real, just having his face pressed against your core as you rut on him is enough to make him cum in his pants. but since he's so impatient, i think he just prefers 69ing for the efficiency of it lmao (and also your moans feel so delicious against his weeping cock, please don't stop).

💟risk (how risky are they):

omg risk is the very essence of who luffy is. his risks are not even calculated, he just does shit that feels right to him. so, please do not object when you are exploring abandoned streets in an unknown island with him and he pines you against the wall and whines in that soft voice of his to have you right there and then. it also doesn't help that he doesn't feel embarrassed like ever. so, if you ever get caught he's just gonna laugh it off.

💟stamina:

ooooof, his stamina is insane!! can easily go a couple of rounds without feeling much fatigue. but he gets distracted easily, so fuck him before he gets too hungry to keep going lmao as for how long can he go for? i don't think he can hold off his orgasms for long, so, he cums fairly fast but he can push through it and keep going for a good while.

💟toys:

luffy didn't personally know much about toys till one night the boys got drunk and sanji asked them if any one of them owned a pocket pussy. he might have bought one the next time the landed on shore and well, he isn't afraid to admit that it's a handy little tool. but he doesn't know any more about toys than that. and he only got to know more once you started dating him and told him about it. he's not insecure to use toys during sex because he knows what he brings to the table. but he would pout if you fuck yourself with a toy instead of just asking him to give you some sweet sweet relief, so just dont do that mkay?

💟unfair (how much do they tease):

holy fucking shit this man LIVES to tease you. skimming touches, feathery kisses, endlessly toying with your cunt. he does it all. but do NOT tease him cause he can't stand it so, he would either lose patience and fuck you his way or he will get so overwhelmed that he would start whining and crying, begging you to ease up on him. both are good options tho 👍🏼

💟volume (are they vocal during it):

YES!! luffy is super vocal in bed. you make him feel great and he's not too shy to show it. i mean who tf will judge the would be king of the pirates?? he also adores your moans and whimpers too because all he wants is his pretty girl to feel good, obviously. (also when you tell him how good he's fucking you, that puts him over the edge because i just know he has a praise kink)

💟wild card (random headcanon):

luffy gets fucked out so easily. like literally, even if you have just been making out for like 5 mins then also his shirt will be halfway open, eyelids droopy, lips swollen, cheeks red, the whole sha-bam. so even if you both did nothing more than some pg-13 makeout, the entire crew will think you just fucked his brains out. evidence: 7th of august, 8:53 pm "ew." nami makes a face of disgust, "can you not do it before dinner? you're both nasty doin' it right before you see us." "we didn't do anything!!" you defend yourself before nudging luffy, "right luffy?" but he's in a daze, too blissful to say anything but: "uh yeahhh" ussop is holding sanji by the shirt like a rabid dog when zoro walks in. his eyes are lidden with sleep. he gives you and luffy a look before saying, "don't fuck before dinner, that's nasty." "we didN'T FUCK-"

💟x-ray (whats going on under those pants):

look he's the rubber man??? does it matter??? but no, i think he has a pretty decent size like im thinking 6" but definitely a bit more thinner. he also has a slight curve to it.

💟yearning (how high is there sex drive):

VERY HIGH. very fucking high. he's like an animal in heat or something except its all year long.

💟zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards):

he's passed out before you can say "that was so good" he's asleep and you should sleep too, you can compliment him when he wakes you up in the middle of the night for something or the other. go sleep. seriously. i see you reading smut on your screen. go sleep.

a/n: thinking i might make a sfw list too lol. if i do, ill add the link here! thankyouu to anyone who reads the stuff i write lol, you're the coolest

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #one piece smut #luffy smut #luffy x reader smut #op x reader #luffy fic #op smut

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fushic0re · 11 months

Text

⸺ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — POV: you’re dating the giant, brutish himbo nobody can stand. || OR aoi todo brainrot.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT: size kink, rough sex, penetrative sex, spanking, oral (F receiving). mentions of canonical violence

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

I NEED to start this off by stating that Aoi is a libra man.

Libra men are incredibly hard to impress, which is clear in the way that he presents his notorious “what’s your type?” question and beats the literal shit out of anyone with an unsatisfactory answer.

It’s not that he immediately hates that your type doesn’t align with his, it’s that if you cannot state with conviction what you love—what it is that you’re attracted to—he finds that you have a weak judge of character and is immediately unimpressed.

But when you DO impress him……honey.

Absolutely OBSSESSED with you.

Worships you, adores you to no end.

You could do no wrong in his eyes.

You could deadass kill someone and he'd be like:

Crying "That's my girl right there, mhm."

Always staring at you with lovesick eyes.

At any given moment you just have a giant man following you like a puppy, staring at you like you hung the moon and stars.

He's always cooing at you, complimenting your...well, everything really. He has no qualms about listing literally everything he adores about you.

His obsession with Takada, a woman he never met? Yea, that’s how he’s going to be with you but on CRACK because holy shit! You’re actually his! Not some fantasy, your relationship and love are tangible.

Libra men are picky with their partners, but when they do choose you, their hopeless romantic side is yours and yours alone—Aoi is no exception to this.

His Instagram page turns from pictures of him working out and at Takada events to just…you.

Selfies you send him upon request because he wants to see your pretty little face every second of the day, candid photos he takes of you, pictures of the two of you together, you name it.

Mai had opted to refer to his Instagram page as a fan page for you.

Aoi doesn’t even deny it.

“Of course my page is her fan page, LOOK AT HER!”

Just so intense with the way he loves you and adores you and not in a way that’s concerning because he’s just a naturally intense guy.

It’s a no brainer that the way he loves you is reflective of that.

Gym dates are definitely a thing.

Aoi puts a lot of effort into his appearance and finds genuine joy in working out, so why not combine something that brings him joy with someone who brings him joy!

“BABE! GYM DAY! We gotta take care of that gorgeous ass of yours!”

Will not take no for an answer. He’ll pick you up, throw you over his shoulders, and get you both to the gym that way.

If you’re a fitness/gym newbie, he’s so, so patient and encouraging with you it almost makes you cry.

He appreciates you deeply for coming to the gym with him just so he can be around you.

He also doesn’t mind seeing you in activewear and cute matching sets because he thinks you look sexy as fuck in them.

Expect quickies in the car after leaving the gym. He won’t even be able to wait until you both get home.

He’s still pumped up from his workout and following with testosterone, so these quickies are usually rough and consist of him yanking your leggings down, pulling your panties to the side, and bouncing you up and down on his lap like a fucking doll.

Because no matter what size you are, you’re lightwork for the great Aoi Todo.

“Fuck baby,” He grunts, his fingers gripping your thighs tightly. The car rocks back and forth from the sheer force of his movements. He pulls you off his cock and lands a firm spank on your rear. “Get your ass in that backseat.”

He’s definitely a giver in all aspects of your relationship. He prides himself on being able to cater to you.

Hungry? He’ll find out exactly what you’re craving and order it or cook it himself.

Tired? You have a big burly man to use as a giant teddy bear.

Sad? Stressed? Having a bad day? He’s there for you to listen, rant with you, cry to, baby you, and offer you advice which contrary to popular belief he’s quite good at.

Beneath is himbo-y, brutish, meathead exterior Aoi is actually very intelligent and insightful.

It’s one of the reasons why you love him so much. There’s so much more to him than meets the eye.

He’ll still beat the shit out of anyone who even looks at you wrong though.

When it comes to sex, you always come first—literally and figuratively.

He’ll have you coming around 3 times before even fucking you. He just wants to be able to indulge you, but selfishly a part of him gets off of making you feel good and being the only one to do so.

When he’s eating you out, you have to practically shove him away between your legs.

He basically turns into a shark when it gets its first whiff of blood in the ocean when it comes to your pussy—frenzied, greedy, and primal.

“Baby,” You whimper as his tongue continues to flick your clit. You’ve already came twice on his mouth, but he’s not slowing down whatsoever. He chuckles deeply as he feels your thighs tremble in his hands.

“You’re so cute.” Aoi coos condescendingly, sucking your pearl in between his lips. “All shaky and whiney for me.”

You cry out loudly when his tongue flicks your clit once more, instinctively jerking away from him. His dark, predacious eyes snap up, staring up at you.

“Don’t try and take my pussy away from me.” He warns, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “That’s my pussy.”

All in all, you are absolutely taken care of in that relationship.

For someone whose biggest fear is boredom, Aoi is surprised to learn that he actually cherishes the more quiet, domestic moments he experiences with you.

Grocery shopping for dinner, cooking together, bandaging each other up after exorcising curses, napping together—he’ll take all of those things over whatever cheap thrills he once longed for any day.

The life of a sorcerer was dangerous.

Sure, he was unwaveringly confident in his strength and abilities, but the truth of the matter was that his life was always on the line.

It’s a heavy fate to have constantly looming over you, but in a swarm of darkness…is you. You.

You’re his home, his person, his solstice, his fucking girl.

You’re everything.

#aoi todo x reader #aoi todo x you #todo x reader #aoi todo x y/n #aoi toudou #aoi toudou x reader

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