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#would i do this to look cool to someone i wanted to impress?
blarshwritezz · 13 hours
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Hello~
Can I request a yandere rich boy x m reader where the rich boy is so utterly in love and obsessed with the reader that he would do anything, can the reader also be a sub that's extremely enabling towards the yan giving him winks! And leaving things out for him to steal and just generally playing into the fans delusions
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Yes, hello 👹 anon! Decided to combine these 'cause they're very similar, hope that's alright!
Yandere Richboy x Enabling Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW (slight, towards end)
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It was actually pretty cute how much Rich!Yan was obsessed with you. Even when he had to be "far" from you, his eyes never left you. So of course you had to tease him, winking and sticking your tongue out.
If only you knew how much you made him melt. He was putty in your hands, willing to give and be anything for you.
The public had their eyes on him, but his were always on you. Always.
He'd often sneak in your room to find your things strewn about, almost as if you wanted him to take them. Silly you, didn't you know anyone could break in and do all sorts of perverse things with your underwear if you left it out like this? You were lucky it was just him. He'd at least return them, cleaner than they were before.
You knew all this. And you knew better than to question it when people who got too close to you would suddenly disappear.
If it was someone you really cared about, he was always conveniently there with chocolate and all his money at your complete disposal. To comfort you, of course.
And well, how could you refuse when he gave you his card? Especially when he's so happy seeing you spoil yourself with everything you could possibly desire.
With just a simple please, his money was entirely yours. And it was even easier when you gave him even the smallest amount of attention. Not to mention how cute he was trying to keep himself together for you.
The way his face would flush, and how he'd fiddle with his collar or tie to cool down. It was adorable.
Maybe you shouldn't have pushed as far as you did...but it was impossible not to. Especially when this was exactly what you wanted.
He's been holding off on fucking you for too long. And finally you got him to concede to his own limitations, leading to this current predicament.
The same predicament that you've been in for over an hour now. You stopped bothering to look at the clock after so long.
"Fuck, that's a good boy. You're taking me so well." He whined in your ear as drool dribbled down your chin. You were starting to realize that you may have bit off a bit more than you could chew.
"You look so good...so damn good like that." His thrusts didn't slow down for even a second, their harshness not wavering.
You had to admit, it was impressive how much stamina he had.
"Been holding this in for too long...so long...you feel so good."
There was a sticky pool of his cum beneath you from what little your ass couldn't hold, or what didn't stick to your skin.
With a groan, his cock twitched, releasing yet another load into you. You've already lost count of how many it's been. And this certainly wasn't the last.
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And another complete! I sincerely hope it was alright!
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femonologue · 27 days
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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.
I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.
A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.
"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.
She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"
"What's a tulip?" I ask.
"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."
"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.
I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.
"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.
I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.
It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"
I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.
"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."
I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."
We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.
I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.
By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.
Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.
When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.
After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.
I never see grunge girl again.
That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.
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when the subject of "why do people believe things that are seriously wrong and harmful" comes up it feels like you kinda hear one of two perspectives:
"oh, that's easy! it's because they're fundamentally Bad people who want to hurt others and choose their beliefs to justify that! :) hope this helps"
or
"they just don't have access to the same information we do. look at this person who was raised in a cult! don't you feel sorry for her?"
and like, yes, fine, some people were in fact raised in cults, but what i wish people would understand is that the bulk of it is just normal human flaws, like:
they want to believe stuff that makes them feel smart and cool and like they've figured everything out (you also do this)
they want to believe stuff that makes them feel like their emotions are justified and grounded in reality, and that the people they want to hurt deserve to be hurt (you also do this)
they form conclusions before they've processed all the relevant information, and cling to that first impression even when new info comes to light (you also do this)
they pick up beliefs from the people around them because they want to be liked and fit in, not because the beliefs are good or true (you also do this)
they come up with reasons that the stuff that benefits them (and the people they like and identify with) is actually overwhelmingly best for everyone and obviously the right thing to do (you also do this)
they pay more attention to stuff that supports what they already believe and avoid looking in places that might show them otherwise (you also do this)
they listen to people who talk like 'one of them' and ignore others (you also do this)
they come up with reasons to dismiss people with conflicting viewpoints as obviously in bad faith or ignorant or a shill or evil (you also do this)
they fail to take their own beliefs seriously sometimes, and take their beliefs way too seriously other times, in a selective way that lets them do the things they already wanted to do (you also do this)
the very ways they construct the ideas of 'knowledge' and 'wisdom' and 'belief' and 'understanding' are biased so that what they don't want to believe comes under lots of scrutiny and what they do want to believe receives less (you also do this)
you, dear reader, are presumably right about everything and were correct to die on every hill you've ever died on, but the difference between you and someone who's wrong about important stuff doesn't look like "well they're inherently evil and i'm not", it probably looks like a combination of:
natural environment (they would have been exposed to different information than you regardless of their choices)
being in the right place at the right time (your particular profile of flaws and virtues happened to be what was needed to lead you to the right conclusions, they had the opposite experience)
random luck (you doubled down on what felt right to believe but wasn't, but it turned out to be inconsequential, or even right for different reasons, while they doubled down on what turned out to be a horrible mistake distorting their entire worldview)
you do less of the things in the previous list, and over time the difference between you and them adds up
and, look, i also do these things. the nicest and most thoughtful people i've ever met do these things. if you meet someone who never does any of these things, i dunno, give them a fucking medal or something.
i know you're doing your best. we're all doing our best.
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Let's address the MVP in the atom eve special: Zak
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He gave Eve an opening to show her interest. And when she got into detail, he listened to every word.
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He didn't disregard her intelligence or bitterly called her a "know-it-all" or called her names like "nerd" or "weirdo", instead, he was fascinated with her. He openly showed interest in wanting to know what she knows.
Of course there's a little personal agenda that he needed to learn these things but you can tell that he was genuine with her.
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What really made me feel so emotional is that Zak celebrates Eve, he proudly compliments her to her parents. And he's aware/probably aware that she's not a very verbal kid around her parents so he took it upon himself to prove her genius.
He showed every model Eve built and carefully picked them up to show them off. You can even see Eve smile when he showed the magnesium model. And even if he doesn't completely know what the final model is, he still praised it.
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And can we applaud this dude? He literally understood what was happening to her, what she was seeing, before her own parents did. And if this was his first time babysitting her? That's just all the more impressive of him to be able to realize.
Even as Zak said all that about Eve being able to see and memorize molecules, you can feel that he was amazed by Eve the entire time.
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You can see that Eve was visibly distressed in this moment cause her parents aren't the least bit happy.
But Zak handled it well. Teens would fold or agree when the adults seem to disagree or don't want to hear them out (especially if they're babysitting, wouldn't want to lose that pay). But that's not the case with him. He didn't raise his voice to be heard. But he made it known that he thinks what Eve knows and what she can do is cool.
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And most importantly, Zak didn't forget his manners. He thanked Eve and made sure she knows that she helped him a lot by showing that he's confident he'll do well in his test.
He literally did every single thing right. This boy was raised right. We don't have much info on him but he was a great character in the entirety of his screen time.
I don't think I can stress this enough but his whole scene was amazing.
Eve looks super young here and she might not remember this moment but I'm sure she's glad that at that moment, someone made her feel okay with herself.
That what she's seeing is okay.
That what she knows is okay.
And that it's okay to show it to others too.
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devourable · 1 year
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✘ delinquents
sfw | tws : yandere behavior; stalking, obsessive thoughts, mildly implied violence
delinquent male yanderes x reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’ 😌 i took a bit longer than expected so i hope yall enjoy these knuckleheads
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mattias was the first to take notice of you.
he caught sight of you during one of his typical late night walks with his friends, semi-drunkenly cracked jokes amongst themselves as they passed around liquor that they had stolen earlier in the day. and when his gaze fell onto you from some distance away, he stopped walking.
you were doing nothing but sitting at a bus stop, but... what was it about you? the way the street lamp bathed you in its light, illuminating you with an amber glow like you were the only thing on the street? it made the boy's heart stutter in a way he'd never felt before!
when his friends returned to his side upon noticing he had stopped walking, mattie quickly pointed you out to his friends ("guys, check out that cutie!"), and an additional three pairs of eyes landed on you as your bus rumbled down the road. and they all had the same reaction as him — you were adorable! what were you doing out on your own so late? didn’t you know there were criminals around here? poor little thing you were, you must’ve not had any other choice…
clearly, you needed someone to protect you!
they were too far away to approach then and there, but it was probably for the best. getting talked up by four drunk, imposing male strangers so late at night would probably not make the best first impression, one of them pointed out as they watches you board your bus. so completely unbeknownst to you, your four new admirers had already began to devise a plan to meet you formally.
it was strange how naturally their collective desire for you fell together. any other time, if even just two of them liked the same person, it was enough to cause infighting and strife among the friend group. but you? the way you united them simply by existing, you had to be something special! it must’ve been destiny that they noticed you that night.
the four would slowly trickle their way into your life, one by one. despite mattias begging to be the one to do it, dominic would be the first of the four you’d actually meet. in his eyes, he was the least intimidating, the most suave, the most manipulative. his charmingly crooked smile had always helped him charm his way into and out of most situations, and you were no different.
he’d casually start riding the same bus as you at the same times you did, using it as an excuse to talk to you. coincidentally, you and him had the same stops, too! and he even got the driver to give you free lifts, even when he wasn't around. it was an old favor he was owed, he'd say, so you didn't have to pay any mind to the tense demeanor of the bus driver whenever you boarded.
naturally he’d offer to walk you home, too, but if you weren’t comfortable with that, it was no biggie (he’d figure out where you lived regardless). he was content with waving you off and walking in a different direction for the meantime.
mattias and judas came next. when dom had managed to convince you to stop by the nearby corner store with him one day, his friends just so happened to be there! as if they weren’t waiting there every day after you and dom had established a friendship.
it was all mattias could do to not scoop you up the moment you met. you were even cuter up close! he was so happy when his patience was rewarded by being graced with your voice, your laughs at his witty sense of humor, and your little smile when you looked at him. did you like him back? did you think he was half as attractive as he found you to be? he desperately wanted to know what you thought of him, but he choked back his questions to keep from scaring you off. in spite of his usually energetic persona, he played it cool to gain your favor.
judas, meanwhile, observed you in relative silence — he wasn’t much of a talker, dom explained — but it didn’t mean his thoughts weren’t any less intense than mattias’s. he couldn’t deny it — he liked you, quite a lot. more than he thought he would. despite finding you attractive too, he didn’t think much of you when he had first grown aware of your existence. he’d simply chalked you up to be the temporary fixation of his friends. but the second you did meet, judas’s mind went to places he had never expected it to go.
for once, he found himself… wanting someone. wanting you. and for once, he was happy his friends had dragged them into this whole scheme.
the four of you all got along so well! and when aaron was finally introduced to you as well, he was no exception. aaron was the only of the four to have a car, so when he ‘learned’ that you were taking the bus so late to get around, he was quick to offer up his own services to help you out ("dom is too much of a nuisance to drive around," he'd claim). an excuse to be able to spend more time with you, with and without his friends around, and you don’t have to deal with public transportation anymore! a win-win, right? and when you accepted, he was over the moon.
it didn't take long for them to sweep you right off your feet after you had met all four of them. they were relentless in capturing your heart and all four of them worked together to ensure you were theirs.
on top of that, none of them were afraid of breaking a few rules or laws to do that, either.
you found yourself always with at least one of the four — usually mattias, as he had the most free time and arguably liked you the most — and the few times you weren't, you could bet they were doing everything in their power to get back to you. other people in your life suddenly began to pull away from you, never having time or simply not wanting to be around you, or so they claimed. it left you with little else to turn to outside of the boys. they had started to puppeteer your life without you ever even knowing it.
they didn't quite understand the pull you had on them — hell, you didn't even realize what you were doing to them! and they even started to question if what they were doing was okay. was what they were doing to your life just to keep you in theirs worth it?
but dominic, mattias, judas, and aaron all came to the same decision the day you agreed to be in a relationship with all four of them...
it was definitely worth it. and they'd keep doing whatever it took to keep things going exactly as they were.
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norrussell · 6 months
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Water | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: you go to your local gym hoping you'll see the new guy that also happened to become your gym crush. What you didn't expect is to find out that he noticed you too
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, some dirty talk
A/N: I wrote this in like an hour or so, so it might not be the greatest of my works, but lord knows we need it after that quali session. Also the song was a big inspo 🤪
It was getting late and the gym was nearly empty. You had come to get a workout in, yet felt oddly out of sync with your body. Despite feeling drained, you sauntered through the area, your eyes lingering on the shiny metal surfaces of the exercise equipment. You were expecting solitude at this time of night, but noticed a few others around as well.
This week, you couldn't help but notice a new face at the gym. While checking him out from a distance, he has unexpectedly become someone you kind of crush on. You couldn't deny that part of your motivation for returning to the gym was the chance of seeing him again.
And just your luck, he was already there and had started his training session. You tried not to gawk, but you couldn't help it. He moved with such grace, each repetition of the exercises looking like a dance. His muscles flexed and tensed as he lifted weights and you found yourself mesmerized by the beauty of it all.
Mustering all your strength, you moved closer to one of the machines and started performing your own exercises. You sensed him looking at you without acknowledging your presence, but it was almost as if he didn’t notice you at all. Yet suddenly something out of left field happened.
"That's not correct. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that." it was him, speaking up in a soft yet firm voice that startled you out of your daze.
You frowned a bit, confused. "This is how my personal trainer showed me to do it."
"I'm sure he did. But that's not how you do it." he grinned. "You're only going to get pain and no gain."
"And how would you know?" what you didn't expect is to get annoyed with him, but here you were, fighting the urge not to roll your eyes.
"I'm a professional athlete, I know." you could just tell this guy relished in being right and correcting people.
"Oh, yes? And what kind of athlete are you?" you snorted.
"I'm a formula 1 driver."
Your eyes widened as he said that. You had never met a professional athlete before, let alone one who drove a formula 1 car. You tried to play it cool, but your curiosity got the best of you. "That's impressive. I didn't know we had any formula 1 drivers in this town."
"You don't," he said with a smirk. "I'm just passing through for a race in a neighboring city. I like to keep up with my training while I'm on the road."
You nodded, still in shock. You had never spoken to someone so accomplished before. "Well, I'm honored to be corrected by a professional athlete. Can you show me how to do it correctly?"
He grinned and stepped closer to you, his body heat making your heart race. "Of course. I'd be happy to help. And my name is Lando, by the way."
For the next hour, Lando guided you through different exercises, correcting your form and giving you tips on how to improve. You felt a sense of gratitude towards him, appreciating the time he was taking to help you out.
He was easy to talk to as well, and you found yourself opening up to him. He, in turn, shared his own stories, and soon enough, the conversation turned flirtatious.
You didn't know if it was the adrenaline from the workout or the thrill of being in his presence, but you found yourself wanting him in a way you hadn't before.
As the gym started to empty out, you glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost closing time. You both were still talking, and neither of you seemed to want to leave.
"We should probably get going," you said with a hint of disappointment.
He smiled and nodded his head in agreement, but then he leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I know a place we can go for some privacy."
Your heart raced as his words sunk in, and before you knew it, you found yourself following him out of the gym towards the locker rooms.
As soon as you entered, Lando grabbed your hand and pulled you towards one of the empty stalls. His lips crashed onto yours and you felt your body ignite with desire. His hands roamed your body, tearing every piece of clothing that restrained him from your skin, exploring every inch as you kissed him back with equal fervor.
He lifted you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold wall. His kisses were urgent and demanding, and you met his passion with your own. He devoured your mouth, his hands squeezing your boobs and pinching your nipples. The sensation shot straight to your core, making you arch your back and moan louder.
Lando trailed his kisses down your neck, his teeth nibbling on your skin, leaving behind a path of marks. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, urging him to go further.
"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
"Tell me," you whispered back, loving the way his cock throbbed against your thigh.
"Thinking about what I would do to you if I had the chance."
He pushed you against the wall, his fingers parting your folds and finding your clit. He rubbed it in circles, making you shudder against him, and when he pushed his fingers inside you, you cried out.
"Tell me how bad you want my cock, baby," he growled. "Tell me."
You gasped for air as he worked his fingers inside you, your muscles tightening around them. He brought you to the brink and then stopped, leaving you to whimper in the darkness.
"Please, Lando. I need more," you begged.
"Oh, you'll get more," he grinned. "But first, you need to show me how much you want it."
You squinted your eyes in confusion at his words. Before you could ask what he meant, he placed you on your feet and pushed you towards the wall, your hands pressing against it.
"Now, I want you to touch yourself while I watch," he commanded.
You followed his instructions, your hands exploring your body and eventually slipping between your legs. Your eyes never left his gaze, and he took his time undressing. As you teased yourself by tracing circles around your clit, imagining him inside of you, the bulge in his pants was growing bigger. Finally, he removed his shorts, exposing his thick, hard member.
As soon as it sprung forward, you pushed two fingers inside yourself and moaned at the sensation. You watched as he pumped his cock in his hand, the look in his eyes filled with lust. You smiled and continued fingering yourself, arching your back and twisting your body as you watched the way his muscles tensed.
"You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and as you continued staring at him, he grabbed your wrist and pressed it against his cock. You bit your lip and moaned out loud as you felt the warmth of his flesh against you, stroking himself as you fucked yourself with your fingers.
He pressed his body close to yours, the heat and moisture of his skin merging with your own. His lips found their way to your neck and he kissed you ever-so-softly. You could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh. Then, his kisses intensified, with his teeth grazing gently across your skin. He suckled at your neck while his fingers dug lightly into your flesh.
"You like this, don't you?" he growled into your ear. "You like being commanded."
"Yes," you hissed. "I love it."
"I want to fuck you until you can't walk. I want you to scream so loud the whole gym can hear you. Will you do that for me?"
"Yes," you moaned again. "I will. I'll do anything you want."
"Good girl."
He grabbed your hair and forced your head back against the wall, his lips finding their way to yours again. He kissed you, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, fighting for domination. You moaned loudly, grinding your hips against his. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
The head of his cock found its way to your entrance, and he didn't waste any time. He lifted one of your legs up and pushed himself inside. You moaned against him, your skin flushing as he filled you to the brim. He held onto you tightly as he thrust himself inside you, his hips pushing against yours. You sucked his tongue into your mouth, your body shaking as you cried out in ecstasy.
He grabbed your remaining leg and pulled you up against him, your legs instinctively twining around his waist. Taking both of your wrists in his secure grip, he held them above your head, your breasts jolting with each successive thrust. He sped up the tempo as time passed, his body pressing hard into yours.
You had never been fucked like this before, and you loved every second of it. The way he controlled your body made you feel more feminine than you ever had, and you felt yourself craving more.
He let go of your hands and you fell into him. You held him tight, your nails digging into his back. Your bodies were pressed up against each other, sticky and sweaty, and as he thrust himself inside you, you could feel his bare chest rubbing against your hard nipples. He groaned, his cock pulsing inside you as he held you close.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist. He groaned into your lips, his eyes locking into yours. You bit your lip and smiled, whispering "Faster."
He complied and you tried to keep quiet as he fucked you harder, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Your breath was coming out in ragged breaths, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.
He put you down and turned you around, pressing you against the wall again, his cock still buried inside of you as he planted kisses all over your back. He slammed into you quicker and harder, his hips colliding with your ass with every thrust.
With one hand still on your hips, Lando reached down between your legs and found your clit, teasing it as you came closer and closer to orgasm. You knew you couldn't hold on any longer, so you grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your sensitive flesh. He smiled and grabbed your face, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
Spinning you around once more, he picked you up and put you onto his cock, your legs wrapping securely around him. You could tell he liked to be in control so much as he took charge and started moving your hips up and down his length. His fingers groped your ass, his tongue teasing your nipples as you moaned in pleasure.
You felt him swell inside you, and your own orgasm started building up inside of you. You could feel it coming closer and closer with every movement of his thrust, until finally it arrived, crashing through both of you like a wave. You screamed in pleasure as Lando pumped one last time into you before coming hard himself, his entire body shaking with release.
Slowly he lowered you onto the floor, both of you still breathing heavily from the intense session that just took place. He took a step back to look at you, admiring every inch of your glistening body from the workout you just did.
"I guess I can tell my personal trainer that you're a better instructor than him."
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 6 months
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Vodka Slime
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pairing: alien!Seungcheol x fem!reader
genre: smut, mild comedy. minors dni.
warnings: monsterfucking, use of tentacles, dom!seungcheol, bratty reader, pussy slapping, bondage, implied size kink (reader is smaller than seungcheol), tummy bulge, squirting, masturbating, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill (pls stay safe), dirty talk, recording during sex (consensual but DON'T DO IT IRL), reader runs a nsfw twitter acc, alcohol consumption
word count: 2.7k
summary: picking up a hot guy from a bar to spend the night with was in your bucket list. him being an alien wasn't. not that you really complain.
Author's note: Spooky season is here and what better way to participate than a spooky smutty theme :) this was a request from Y anon!
p.s.: main inspiration for this fic was drawn by @meltwonu's Starlighter fic, it is a MUST read (like the rest of monster mash lmaooo)
taglist: @duhnova @smileysuh @gyuwoncheol (kindly suffer <3)
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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You kinda wish you had stayed at home.
You thought it would be a good idea to dress up and go to a bar on your own to enjoy a cocktail, hoping for a stroke of luck - Alas, things don’t always go your way.
If you had stayed home, you would be in comfy clothes or maybe no clothes at all, thinking of which toy you want to fuck yourself with. 
You let out a huff and you take your cocktail in your hand, opting for a ‘random walk’ around the bar (you just want to spot a single guy who wouldn’t mind to get laid tonight), but as soon as you turn around, you collide with a very firm body and your cocktail ends up splashing all over your top.
“Fuck!” You gasp when the ice cold beverage hits your skin, desperately looking for napkins to clean up the newly made mess.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” He apologizes profusely as he asks for napkins from the bartender. “Here, these should help somehow.” He passes you the napkins and you accept them with a grumble, trying your best to clean up yourself.
“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, miss?”
“You can only-” you almost snap at him but your words die down in your throat when you raise your head and take a good look at the unknown man.
And all you see is the stroke of luck you were wishing for all night long.
Semi-pulled back white hair, slightly messed up from the wind outside, a tight fitted shirt accentuating his toned pecs and a jawline sharp enough to cut through your clothes.
“Well…” You put down the used napkins, “I wouldn’t mind a refill of that cocktail I was drinking.”
The unknown man flashes a rather adorable gummy smile and effortlessly takes a couple of bills out of his wallet.
“That, I can definitely do.”
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"So, a college student. That's pretty cool."
You almost snort in your drink. "Oh yeah, it's so cool to stress over random classes because the professor happens to be a dickhead." 
"Hey, don't downplay your achievements. It's not like everyone has the brains to attend college, you know." The man plays with the rim of his glass.
"It's actually funny how hard you're trying to get my attention, while you don't even know my name." You down your cocktail.
"And here I was wondering whether you'd bring it up or not." He chuckles. 
"Well? Are you satisfied now, mister I don't know-what-your-name-is?"
"Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol."
"What?"
"That's my name, doll."
"Oh." You gulp down. "That's a very nice name you have there."
“So I’ve been told before.”
“By other girls, I suppose?”
“I’m not obligated to share this information, doll.”
“Suit yourself then.” You shrug and open your purse, taking out a small folded mirror to check your makeup.
“I’m impressed.” Seungcheol licks the corner of his mouth, “It’s the first time someone isn’t giving their attention to me.”
“You either have a bloated ego or you’re a desperate attention whore. Or both, I guess.” You sigh.
“And you have a pretty foul mouth for such a pretty face.”
“Cliché.”
“Did it work?”
“I’m not obligated to share this information, mister Choi.” You mimic his attitude.
“Are you even willing to share something with me, other than a drink?” He huffs.
“To be completely honest, I was hoping to come here and snatch a cutie back home to have fun with, but things are looking kinda grim.”
Seungcheol flashes a wide smirk. “What a wonderful coincidence, for our goals to be aligned tonight.”
“You’re here to hit it off with someone too?”
“Yeah. And to be fair, you’re looking way too hot and way too lonely to not get laid tonight.”
“Are you suggesting I should fuck you, Seungcheol?”
“I was planning on using more subtle words but I suppose this is also a way to approach things.”
You take a few seconds to yourself, pondering about Seungcheol’s proposal.
Cons - he’s a complete stranger and could be a murderer.
Pros - he’s fucking hot and you could get new content for your account.
“I have one question.”
“Fire away, doll.”
“You’re not some kind of crazy ass murderer, right?”
Seungcheol snorts. “Murderer? Nope."
He brings himself closer to you. "But the crazy ass depends on the context."
"I think we both know the context." You lick your lips.
"Then I hope you're into crazy stuff, doll."
Boy, he's in for a treat.
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"That's a nice setup you have here."
"Thanks." You smile and take off your shoes.
"Are you a streamer?" 
"Hmm, not really."
"There's no shame in saying you're a camgirl." Seungcheol chuckles.
"I never said that and I definitely didn't try to hide it." You retort.
"Judging from the box of dildos being out in the open on your desk, I would agree to the latter."
"Do they make you feel uncomfortable, Seungcheol?"
"Not at all." He walks towards the desk and picks up a neon colored, tentacle shaped dildo. "Is this what you play with?"
You sit down on the bed and cross your legs sensually. "Got a problem with that?"
"Not really." Seungcheol drops the toy in the box. "It's a shame to play with fake stuff when you can have access to the real stuff."
You snort. "What, you're into that fake tentacles porn?" 
He flashes a smirk and removes his jacket and t-shirt, you let out a whistle at the sight of his naked torso. 
The excitement you had stored in your body evaporates within milliseconds when you see extra large sized tentacles coming out of Seungcheol's back, looming over him.
"Okay whoa, that is NOT what I was expecting!" 
"I know it's shocking, but I have zero intention to hurt you-"
You crawl away from him. "Your little friends don't seem to share the sentiment!" 
"I am the one who controls them, I can pull them back if you want me to."
"I- I just-"
"Look, I can just put my clothes back on and disappear from your apartment, like I never even existed in the first place."
"W-Wait! I, um-"
"Take your time, Y/N."
"Can you try not to put these things near my mouth please?"
"Since you asked so nicely, I have no choice but to comply."
Seungcheol crawls on the bed and cages you between his body and the mattress, peppering kisses across your jawline to make you feel more comfortable.
"Do you mind if I kiss you? I promise my lips are nothing like my tentacles."
"Oh my God, just shut up and kiss me!" You grab his face with your hands and smash your lips on his, slipping your tongue in his mouth, but it doesn't last for long, as he pulls away and pins your hands above your head.
"What got into you all of a sudden, doll?"
"Maybe I thought things over again and decided that fucking a hot guy with tentacles isn't a terrible idea." 
"I thought you weren't into that thing?"
"Half of my porn content is with tentacle dildos, please get real."
Seungcheol scoffs. "You little brat."
He lifts himself off you and with a tilt of his head, his tentacles wrap around your torso and legs, restricting you midair.
"You fucker! This is foul play!" You yelp.
He leans back on the headrest of the bed, looking at you with hungry eyes. "Everything is fair in war, love and sex, doll. I’m just spicing up things a little." 
Two more of his tentacles come up to your body, one ripping your top in half and the other flipping your skirt to reveal your bare pussy.
“Fuck you, I liked that top!”
“It was already ruined, sweetheart, don’t think too much of it. No underwear though? That's hot."
"It's called easy access, himbo."
Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance and whips one of his tentacles over your pussy, making you whine.
"You're being a lil' smartass and it could get you in trouble, Y/N."
"Do your worst, Kraken."
The tentacle glides between your lips with the tip repeatedly nudging your clit when it suddenly whips your pussy again and you close your legs involuntarily.
"Ah ah ah, we're not having any of that." 
The tentacles tighten around your legs and keep them wide open, while the third one keeps rubbing your pussy slowly enough for the suckers to tease your sensitive parts.
"Ah! Fuck!" You moan when the slimy object slaps your cunt over and over again, your juices starting to drip on your asscheeks and all over the sheets.
"Drenched already? I haven't even fucked you yet, doll." Seungcheol chuckles as he strokes his cock, his pants discarded a long time ago.
"It's all f-fun and games when you're the o-one sitting on the bed!" You whine in defeat.
Your lips fall open when after a particular harsh slap, the tentacle effortlessly pushes into your entrance, turning around and rubbing your walls in an excruciatingly slow manner.
"Oh…my God…Fuck, that feels so fucking good."
Seungcheol raises his eyebrow. "You feel a tad bit loose, sweetheart." 
"And w-what about it?"
You nearly scream when another, thicker tentacle enters your pussy and thrusts harder than the other one. You feel your walls being stretched out, the foreign bodies in your hole proving to be bigger than the toys you use.
“Now it feels just right.” Seungcheol moans, as if it was his dick fucking you stupid. “Can’t wait to have you all wrapped around my cock, doll.”
“F-Fu- Cheol, I’m gonna cum!” You gasp when the tentacles pick up the pace and ram your cunt without mercy.
“Come on, doll, show me what this pussy is capable of.” Seungcheol grunts as he fists his cock harder to bring himself closer to his climax.
A sharp shriek erupts from your throat - you squirt all over your thighs and the slimy appendices, juices dripping down on the sheets and Seungcheol’s legs. His cock explodes all over his torso, streaks of thick white cum splashing on his skin.
The tentacles around your body relax just enough to let you plop down on the mattress, leaving your skin sticky and covered with a thin, slimy substance. He slowly retracts them altogether and they disappear from your field of view, as if they never existed in the first place.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
Seungcheol crawls on the mattress until he’s hovering above you. “That’s cute. But I’m afraid I’m not done with you yet, doll.”
Your eyes go wide when you notice the sheer size of his cock resting on top of your stomach and you’re pretty sure it’s way bigger than anything else you’ve taken before.
“There’s no fucking way that thing will fit in me!”
“That’s what you said about my tentacles, but you took them like a pro.”
“That’s different!” You protest.
“Different how?”
You purse your lips.
“Different how, Y/N?” Seungcheol slaps his cock between your legs and you whimper.
“It’s….so fucking big, Cheol….”
“Are you scared?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
“We can always take it slow, pretty girl. Are you on the pill?”
You nod your head slowly and hook your fingers around the elastic band of the skirt to take it off, but he stops you.
“The skirt stays on.”
“It could get in the way, though.”
“Pull it just enough to let your pussy show.”
“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” You say and point towards the video camera on the desk. “Can you grab it for me?”
“What do you have in mind, doll?”
“Since it might take some effort to make it fit…” You turn on the camera and hand it over to him, “Might as well show my followers how it’s done, right?”
Seungcheol flashes a dirty smirk before he points the camera to your pussy, his tip nudging your entrance. You wince a little when the bulbous head pushes into your hole, a strangled moan escaping from your mouth when you try to fit in more of his shaft.
“Easy now, I’m not going anywhere, doll.”
He swipes his free hand over his abs to pick up the cum that hasn’t dried yet and smears it all over his length, using it as lube.
“S-Stop teasing me…”
“‘M sorry doll, but I don't wanna rip your pretty pussy apart.”
“Fuck, I can take it, promise!” You arch your back and buck your hips in the air.
Seungcheol flattens his free hand over your stomach and pins you down. “You will take only what I wanna give you, sweetheart. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Your walls clench around his tip and he has the audacity to bring the camera closer to the spot you’re connected to each other, only to push his fat cock all the way to the base.
“Fuuuuuck, it’s huge…” Your eyes roll back and your pussy spasms like crazy, trying your best to accommodate his size.
“Good girl, I knew you’d take it all in.” Seungcheol rasps as he rubs his palm over the newly formed bulge in your tummy, “Such a tiny pussy yet you managed to fit all of it. I think you deserve a treat for this.”
His hand moves to your left hip and he starts thrusting inside you, setting a slow pace at first.
You moan loudly with each thrust he delivers and you slide one of your hands directly over the spot that bulges from his cock.
“Not so snarky now, are you?”
“M-More…”
“More what, doll? Use your big girl words.”
“M-More power, harder, please!” You beg between sobs.
“I was planning on dragging it out a bit more, but fuck, you’re gripping me like a vice and I can’t wait to blow my load in your pussy, doll.”
He pulls the camera a bit further away to get a full view of your and his lower half, ensuring none of your faces are visible in the video. He answers your pleas by fucking you harder and faster than his tentacles did and he can swear his sanity is starting to slip away.
“S-Shit, you’re- Fuck! It’s so good!” You scream and grip the sheets around you, your tits bouncing up and down.
“Mmmh, I’m about to cum, baby- Gonna take it all deep, will you?” Seungcheol moans above you, trying to keep the camera steady.
“Yes, yes yes, fuck me full with your load, daddy!” You cry out and your thighs shake as you cum around his cock, your wet walls rapidly clenching around his huge shaft.
“Fuuuck….” He delivers a few shallow thrusts before he buries himself to the hilt, blowing his thick load inside your pussy until a white ring of cum forms around his base. He doesn’t hesitate to take out his cock with an obscene pop and spurt the remnants of his orgasm over your pussy and your skirt.
“That…was fucking amazing.” Seungcheol taps his cock on your clit, chuckling when you bite your lips to suppress your moans.
“Close…the camera…” You mutter and he presses the button to stop the recording.
He puts the camera down and lays right next to you, ghosting his fingers over your abused cunt. 
“So? Do you think it was a waste of time to bring me back home?”
You grip his wrist and bring his hand in front of your face, licking his digits clean.
“Only an idiot would consider you a waste of time, Cheol.”
“Does that mean you’re down to exchange numbers?”
“Are you not-so-subtly asking for another time?” You rake your pointer finger across his chest.
“Perhaps I am,” he confirms, “Not to mention that one time isn’t anywhere near enough to show you what I can truly do with my tentacles.”
“One question - Do your tentacles spit stuff like in hentai?”
Seungcheol snorts and erupts into a laughing fit, to the point of tears.
You slap his arm. “What’s so funny?! I’m serious!”
“I know! It was still funny,” he wipes his tears away, “But I can’t answer your question yet.”
“And why is that?”
He smirks again.
“That would just spoil the fun for next time, doll.”
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Can we please get some milf Abby or Ellie the lesbians who like older women are in a drought
💘
Headcannons: milf!abby anderson x reader
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part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
☆ Milf Abby who was divorced and who had full custody of her 4-year-old daughter.
☆ Milf Abby who worked as a lawyer and got her daughter into the best schools.
☆ Milf Abby who went to a parent teacher meeting, to meet her daughters’ new teacher.
☆ Milf Abby who met you for the first time and thought you were the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.
☆ Milf Abby who stood behind everyone else because you made her shy.
☆ Milf Abby whose palms felt sweaty when you walked close to the direction where she was standing.
☆ Milf Abby whose heart rate increased when you asked the parents “any questions?” with a smile.
☆ Milf Abby who went home that night and stared at the ceiling because she just saw an angel.
☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter about you the next morning.
“What’s she like?” Abby asked as she placed the plate of scrambled eggs in front of Aubrey.
“she’s nice” the little girl started. “she always likes my drawings, and she tells funny stories!”
A small smile appeared on Abby’s face.
Pretty and funny, huh?
“she’s pretty too” Aubrey said with her mouth full off eggs. Abby chuckled at that.
“Your right baby, she is”
☆ Milf Abby who almost shit herself when Aubrey told you that she finds you pretty.
“You did what?” Abby said frantically.
“I told my teacher that you said she was pretty”
Abby groaned, her large hand coming to rub her temples.
“Baby you aren’t supposed to tell that to people, it was a secret”
“Yeah, it was red ones”
“But Heathers dad brought her flowers, and that’s not a secret”
“what?”
“roses?”
“I think so” she spoke
☆ Milf Abby who gets jealous even though she barley knows anything about you.
☆ Milf Abby who watches Heathers dad bring you snacks almost daily when she picks up Aubrey.
☆ Milf Abby who wants to vomit every time you smile at him.
☆ Milf Abby who realizes she had to make a move.
☆ Milf Abby who was nervous because it’s been a while since she’s asked someone on a date.
☆ Milf Abby who writes you a letter and sends it with her daughter.
“My mommy sent you this” Aubrey ran to you with a white envelope. You thanked her, as you opened the letter, eyes widening at what it had to say:
“Hi, are you Tennessee because you’re the only ten I see.
I’m sorry I know that was inappropriate I didn’t know what to say.
Would you like to go on a date with me? I promise no cheesy pickup lines”
☆ Milf Abby who almost jumps out of her car when she sees you walking towards her.
☆ Milf Abby who rolls down the window and tries to act cool.
“Sup” she said, but soon cringed.
You giggled “I’d love to go on a date with you Miss Anderson”
“Call me Abby”
“Abby… I’d love to go out with you”
A grin spread onto the blondes face.
“Friday?”
“Friday”
☆ Milf Abby who fist bumps the air because she’s just that excited.
☆ Milf Abby who almost cancelled because she was so nervous.
☆ Milf Abby who asks her 4-year-old outfit advice.
“What about this?”
“No”
“Aubrey you can’t keep saying no”
“But I don’t like it”
☆ Milf Abby who kisses her daughter goodbye as she bought you a bigger bouquet of roses.
☆ Milf Abby who takes you to a fancy restaurant to impress you.
☆ Milf Abby who finds out you were 20 years younger than her.
Abby blinked a couple of times at the information.
“26?”
“yeah… do I not look my age you?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You really don’t”
☆ Milf Abby who enjoys the date more than she intended to.
☆ Milf Abby who almost combusts when you gave her a kiss on the cheek.
☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night in denial that she liked someone so young.
Age is nothing but a number, but you were years younger. What were you doing with someone like her? Why her? Why not someone your age? What happens if Abby grows so old that you become bored?
☆ Milf Abby who ghosts you for 5 months.
☆ Milf Abby who avoids looking at you when she gets her daughter from school.
☆ Milf Abby who ignores your texts because she thought you deserve someone better.
☆ Milf Abby’s daughter who gave her an awaking.
“Can you stop crying at night mommy? It makes noise”
Abby looked up from the stove.
“you hear that?”
“Yes”
A few seconds of silence passed before Aubrey spoke again. “You made my teacher sad”
“she’s sad?”
“yes and she asked me about you”
“and what did you say?”
“Nothing, you said it was a secret” Abby groaned at Aubrey’s response
“you need to stop pushing people away because you’re insecure”
Abby looked at Aubrey with wide eyes.
She was right, because Abby was so insecure she’s losing a perfect girl because she was scared. How sure was she that you would leave her? How sure was she that you were only using her? Maybe you were the one.
“Where did you hear those words?”
“from grandpa” she said with a shoulder shrug.
“He said that to Nora”
Your back was facing the door as you were writing something on the board.
“of course he did”
☆ Milf Abby who goes to your classroom the next day with flowers.
“I’m sorry” she spoke. She watched you flinched as you turned around.
“what?”
“I’m sorry for just disappearing and not saying anything”
“ok” was all you said as you turned back around to continue writing.
Abby walked towards you with long strides.
“no- no don’t say ok please- give me a chance”
she watched you sigh as you turned around:
“look Miss Anderson-“
“Abby”
“Miss Anderson” you said through gritted teeth.
“It’s ok, this should have not happened”
“Don’t say that”
“Let’s move on, I’ll pretend this never happened” you said with a fake smile on your face.
“god you’re so-“  before Abby could even finish her sentence she grabbed your face, and caught your lips in a kiss.
☆ Milf Abby who was surprised when you kissed her back.
☆ Milf Abby who whimpered when you pulled away.
“What can I do to fix this?” she spoke as she held your face.
“take me out on a date again”
a smile spread on the blondes face: “yeah I’ll do that”
☆ Milf Abby who realizes you won’t make it easy for her.
☆ Milf Abby who was willing to work for this relationship because you were worth it.
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simplyreveries · 2 months
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can i request ruggie and kalim with a s/o who’s like jessica rabbit? :3
hehe yes<3
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ruggie bucchi
before you two got together, ruggie absolutely found himself feeling utterly helpless and nervous around you, believe it or not. though, he plays most of it off with his typical self, you made his mouth go dry sometimes or whenever he's trying to be his deceitful and clever he slips up and even makes a fool of himself at times. he hated it,,, you seemed to outsmart him all the time.
when you visit him during magishift practice or especially games, he finds himself trying so hard to be impressive in front of you. hence him doing his cool hanging-upside-down trick on the broom many times. even though you always adore anything from him, he feels such a sense of satisfaction whenever you have a look of admiration- as you're someone who isn't the easiest to please haha. after a longer and tense game when you come up and hug him tightly pressing a kiss to him - he is smitten and laughs out of nervousness.
he wants to make you happy,, even if that means doing extra work so he can't buy and get you something he thinks would suit your tastes. though you do tell him that's not what you want from him he still tries. it may not be as extravagant, but he loves how it when you kiss him all over. makes everything worth it.
kalim al-asim
he is an absolute loverboy, he is head over heels for you. he is the epitome of that "what do you see in that guy?" "he makes me laugh" scene. because he lives to make you smile and laugh whenever you're with him. he just follows you around and is literally content even being in your presence.
kalim does adore the concern you hold for him when you were dealing with overblots... but the poor guy can't fathom you being concerned for him, he was worried about you. completely tackled you in a hug when you came back from styx. sighing in relief, he still knew you were tough- keeping your cool as always.
he gets all giggly and blushes whenever you press kisses against his face. he won't even seem to notice the lipstick marks left on him. if someone were to point out a smudged one on the corner of his cheek, he'd be flustered a bit and blurt out "oh! thanks hehe" and rub it off. he doesn't seem to mind; he loves it in fact.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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Passion for Fashion Part 4
A loud ding-dong echoes through the house. Danny sits up from where he was lying, inches from a radio playing falling water.
He found it in the garbage a few days after the whole kidnapping of Fiesco- the police got all the models to safety while the Bats were able to rescue Tim Drake, but the primary muscle, some guy named Waylon, got away. - but the station it could pick up was a natural sound effects station.
Danny had been tinkering with it, trying to figure out how to get it to connect to the local radio mostly successfully for days now. He leaned back to look past the randomly hung clothes that Dan had been stringing across their house.
Fabrics still littered the place, and it's become less of a home and more of a fabric storage.
Danny has forgotten the color of the walls, so used to just seeing clothes everywhere. It was a bit embarrassing to be so messy but it's not like they had guests in this dimension.
Which meant the door ringing even stranger.
Ding Dong.
"Dan?"
His counterpart grunts from somewhere behind the blue and green fabrics. "What?"
"Nothing," Danny calls back, side-stepping fabrics and pushing aside some mannequins. Who was on the other side of the door if Dan was in the living room turned studio?
Ding Dong.
They should really think about installing some cameras or even a peephole. Danny hesitates for only a moment before he carefully turns the knob and opens the door slightly, only enough so his eye can see through the crack.
An EverBurning Lizardman stands on his doorstep. That's....not confusing at all. Maybe the ghost was sent by Clockwork? Oh, perhaps the time Ghost was sending them back up?
"Hello?" Danny asks, swinging it open. "Can I help you?"
The Lizardman squints at him. "Dan Fenton?"
"No. I'm Danny Fenton. Dan is my twin brother."
"Right. I'm Killer Croc," The EverBurning says, straightening out his back to tower over Danny in what he thinks is supposed to be menacing. To Danny, it just looks like someone standing to attention, a lot of the ghosts do that when he is crowed.
"Nice to meet you, Killer. Cool jean jacket by the way." Danny responds. He crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe, tilting his head like a bird. Killer Croc seems taken aback by his nonchalant mannerism. "Do you want me to get Dan?"
The EverBruning lips pull back, showcasing all of his teeth. Danny is impressed by how sharp and white they are. He must use a whiting paste. He'll have to ask for the secret later. A model needed a pearl-white smile, after all. "I would like to speak to you both."
Danny considered the request before nodding his chin to his house. "Come on in. Sorry about the mess; we weren't expecting guests."
As the significant being of rippling scales and muscles made its way inside, Danny shut the door and held out his hand towards Killer.
The Lizardman blinked down at him. "What?"
"Can I take your coat?" Danny asked, so used to offering guests back at home that he forgot big city folk may not do that.
Killer's eyes narrowed. "No."
"Alright." Accepting the denial Danny rocked on his heels, pushing a large indego piece of fabric out of his face. It reveals the slight path to the kitchen. "Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, water, soda....heated ectoplasm?"
"...Water is fine." Killer settles on staring at Danny like he is the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. Not surprising. Those from the Elemenal Sector of the Infinite Releams don't see human-shaped beings often. He had plenty of young Yeti children surround him when he visited because they had never seen someone who looked like Danny before.
"Hot or Cold?"
"....Cold."
Huh. An EverBurning who did not take their water boiling? Danny would ask him about it, but he didn't want to seem like he was playing into stereotypes.
"I'll bring it out in a minute. Please make yourself at home." Danny gestures to a corner of the room. "I think the couch is somewhere in that direction. "
He doesn't wait for the Lizardman to reply instead he turns to the last place he heard his counterpart shout. "Dan! Come out here, you have a visitor!"
"No! Tell whoever they are to piss off." Dan screams back. Danny's face twitches. He hates that guy so much sometimes.
"Don't be rude! Come out here!"
Dan makes a loud obnoxious sigh, pushing the fabrics out of his way. He's still wearing the same pair of sweatpants and stain t-shirt grey oversized shirt. His hair has obviously not been comb and there are slight bags under his eyes from where he refused to get some sleep the last few days.
In short, he looks like a right mess.
"Who the hell is even bothering us..." Dan's voice trails off, face paling when he sees Killer uncomfortably trying to sit. Dan glances down at his body and then screams in mortification, warping his arms around himself. He sprints further into the house before they can get a word in. "Don't look at me! I have to get dressed! I normally look hot, I swear!"
Danny blinks. "Well....I'll get you that water while Dan gets dressed."
Killer looks far more confused than before. "Sure, kid."
Now, Danny has always been an alley of the FarFrozen. Not only was FrostBite his doctor, his ice mentor, and his general instructor for the Infinite Realms, but he was also his friend.
Nearly as close as Sam and Tucker- FrostBite had become someone he sought companionship with, which went for all of FarFrozen. Danny spent more time in the winter wonderland than in his home. This meant he knew all about their rivals- the EverBurning.
The EverBurning were a tribe of Lizardmen in hot volcanic lands to the south of the FarFrozen. They were very similar to the FarFrozen in culture and civilization, with a bit more emphasis on arts than science.
Although they were polar opposites, FarFrozen and EverBurning had no abysmal relationship. Their meet-ups reminded Danny of rival high school sports teams at most.
Danny was just an alley to the FarFrozen first.
When he returned to the living room, he arrived with Killer looking highly uncomfortable as Dan sat awful close to him now dressed a looking....well looking like what the locals called "E-Boy" sexy.
Not to be confused with Goth. Danny didn't know what the difference was, but Dan almost bit his head off the last time he pointed it out. Apparently, the fashions were completely different.
"So, Papi. why were you looking for me?" Dan all but purs. Killer shudders and quickly stands up, causing Dan to fall onto the couch cushions.
"I came here to apologize." The Lizardman starts but is cut off by his slight jump as Danny appears at his elbow, holding out the tray. He needs to remember to make noise when he moves.
"Apologize for what?" Danny asks, observing his guest take the glass cup in a scaly hand. He seemed to do so carefully, but surprisingly not uncurling his claws away- does he not know how?
"For almost trafficking you. I ugh...I sell drugs, not people. I wasn't aware those idiots were doing that when I accepted the job to kidnap Tim Drake for a few hours. I have to eat somehow, you know?" Killer shrugs at the twin stare of surprise. "I'm an ugly son of bitch, but I'm not much of a monster."
"Papi, you are gorgeous-" Dan starts, placing one hand behind the couch seat and giving a flirtatious little smirk up at the Lizardman, but Killer cuts him off.
"Okay, seriously, kid you're starting to freak me out. Not that I'm not flattered. You're the first and only one ever interested in me, but I'm twenty-eight. You're way too young for me."
Dan frowns in confusion. "I'm twenty-six. Two years isn't that much of a difference."
Killer gestures at him. "You are fifteen at the least, kid."
Dan's face ripples through various emotions before he leans back and stares at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. He whispers to them in a hushed tone of angst. "I'm seventeen."
Right.
Danny clears his throat. "It's alright, Killer. We weren't sold, and neither were any of the other models. So, no harm was done. Apology accepted."
Killer Croc seems more thrown off balance than when Danny first opens the door. Poor guy. It must have been the ice water. Danny shouldn't have made it that cold. "Just like that?"
"Just like-"
Someone breaks through his living room window. The Fentons let out cries of surprise as Killer quickly grabbed them both and rolled the ground, using his large body to shield them from the shattering glass. The intruder was likely unaware of the strung-up fabrics, for they stumble into the tied strings and quickly become entangled.
They fall to the ground in heap as the strong wire wraps around them. Danny knew he shouldn't have allowed Dan to use metal wire for his heavier pieces- especially one that taught, but Dan had been so persuasive.
(He put them up anyway, and Danny was too lazy to take them down)
"Ah man, I liked that window," Danny whines as he peaks over Killer's shoulder.
"We have windows?"
"Killer Croc! Unhand the hostages!" The person on the ground screams, shimmering around until the clothes fall away, and Danny finally gets a good look at some guy in a red and black costume?
Dan points at the stranger "Who is that-"
"Red Robin" Killer all but snares, suddenly far more violent than usual. Dan takes one look at the EverBurning before he, too, is standing at the ready for a fight- it makes his outfit look really out of place, but Danny can't say much when he's still in his own sweats.
Maybe he should have changed too?
"Should we kill him?" Dan asks, and Red Robin stops, seemingly shocked that the fashion designer would ever suggest that.
"Woah woah woah," Danny says, stepping between the two groups. He has his hands up attempting to appease the ghosts first- for all Dan looked and had been human, he spent far more years as a full-time ghost so he was more ghost than human.
Killer claws have sharpened, and he just knows it's going to be a pain and a half to get them to stop. Thinking quickly, Danny crouched down to place a kiss on the frozen- no pun intended- human on the cheek. "There is no need for a fight. I asked him out on a date and sort of forgot what time he was picking me up."
Killer stared at him like he had grown a second head, but Dan dropped his raised fists. "Oh yeah? Have fun on your date brat."
"Thanks, Dan."
He hurled Red Robin to his feet and practically pushed him out into the street before the other could get his wits about him. Once they were safely out of Dan's hearing range, Danny crossed his arms, raising an unimpressed brow to the dressed-up stranger.
"Alright, who are you supposed to be, and why did you break through my window?"
"I-"
"Danny!" Dan shouts from the broken window. He waves around a duffle bag that he quickly throws at the confused teenager. "You can go on a date dress like that! I have a reputation as a fashion designer to keep. Put that on!"
Danny rolls his eyes, turning back to the other teenager- is he a teenager? Danny can't really tell with the mask but he sort of looks like it. "Do you mind waiting for me to get ready? I'll pay for pizza."
"W-wait what-no I'm here to rescue-are you serious about the date?"
"Yeah, why not? I dated a dead biker before and his crazy girlfriend. Sides, you're pretty cute."
"Are you aware that Killer Croc is in your house?"
"Killer? Yeah, my brother is trying to seduce him."
"......why?" Red Robin whispered in horror, "Why would he do that?"
"Why does Dan do anything?" Danny grins with a shrug. "I get it, though; Killer is a good-looking EverBurning."
"EverBurning?"
"A tribe in the Infinite Realms."
There is a spark of recognition in Red Robin's body language. Now, why does this stranger know about Danny's kingdom?
Red Robin's mouth opens and closes before slowly reaching up and pressing his ear. Danny realizes only after a moment that he's using a communicator as the other says, "I'm going offline for a bit. Got a date with someone from Constitine's Infinite Realms."
Hmmm, does that sound like a problem Danny should be dealking with? Nah, as long as Red Robin's not connected to Batman, he should be fine.
(Meanwhile, Dan is pouting as Waylon slips out the back door once again regretting his offer of going on their own date. Just his luck Clockwork's little twin idea is going to make dating a nightmare. There went the best tail he's ever seen)
Master Post Link
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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metalhead! konig and alternative!reader plz🙏🙏. i just need konig to protect me in a moshpit at a concert. im short so i need a 6’10 giant to protect me 😁🫶
Your first time at the real concert in Vienna was...a lot. Drunken Germans, yelling tourists, someone definitely doing crack in the corner, and some girls that looked like they were ready to sacrifice the strongest one to the devil. You belong here, of course, with your heavy boots and even heavier makeup - the foundation already feels like a mask on your skin, not allowing you to breathe without cracking a layer of powder and lipstick all over your mouth, but you tried your hardest to have fun. And you did have fun - except for the time you were pushed to the mosh pit. In your unstable heavy boots - the coolest shit ever, of course, and also the thing that made you reconsider all of your life choices that had led to this. Maybe you were the brave gothic alt butterfly who got into the pit all by herself - unfortunately, the reasoning won't change the outcome. European concerts might not be as wild as some of the American ones, but drunk Germans and Austrians are something to be concerned about...and old metalheads who been jamming here since the fall of The Wall is something that is going to be your funeral...this is when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright, Schatzen?" Man sounded awkward, almost nervous. Mumbled some apology before finally snatching up up in his hands - and you were ready to kick him in the balls with those spikes in your boots and scream bloody murder, but then you understood that he just...got you off the pit. That was filled with people a second later - people that would definitely crush you if you stayed here. Guy's name is Konig and he was actually not liking the concert very much. He said he loved the group - since he was a teen which, you presume, was quite a long time ago - but he hated the crowds. His friend got him a ticket and then couldn't come with him, which made him kinda lonely and kinda heroic to a sweet thing like you. Konig is nervous and you grab his hand to steady him - you swear to god you feel his fingers tremble as you bring your body closer. Concert was nice - but it's nicer when he grabs you by your hips and lifts you up on his shoulders so you could get a clean view at the band. You feel scared at first - not trusting that he won't drop you...but his hands don't even waver as he keeps his cool, making sure you're stable and having fun. You slip your number in his pocket as he walks you to the bus home - and you don't even resist when he awkwardly leans down to kiss you, his mask down to his chin. Your black lipstick is all over his mouth now, and you make sure to lick it all off. Don't want to leave a bad first impression, after all.
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another-lost-mc · 7 months
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Got any thots/ideas in wing kink for Luci, Simeon, or anyone with wings?
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a/n: there's a few different types of wings among the cast, but I think they're all unique and worth talking about!
wing headcanons
featuring: lucifer, mammon, asmodeus, beelzebub, diavolo, simeon, raphael (+ michael and karasu)
0.7k words | nsfw | suggestive
cw: wing kink implied. sexual situations and predator/prey kink mentioned. the predator/prey kink section is after the divider if you prefer not to read that part.
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One of the first signs of trust is the casual affection he shows you when his wings are revealed. He might not always reach for your hand in public, especially if he's a bit more reserved by nature. However, what you do feel is the soft sensation of his wing brushing against your side when you walk beside him. He doesn't even mean to do it at first. It's like his wing naturally extends itself to curl around your back or glide against your arm. It's an unconscious gesture motivated by his feelings for you.
He might ask you to help with his wing care next. If he has wings made of feathers, he sits patiently while you preen them. You're especially careful when you straighten the feathers that look stuck out of place. Your hands are coated with a special oil that keeps his wings soft and protected from harsh wind and cool rain. It's a ritual for both of you now, one that often leads to grateful kisses and quickly descends into passionate lovemaking. Preening his wings was something he didn't enjoy doing by himself, or he reluctantly asked others to help him. Now that he has you, he craves the intimacy of it.
Leathery wings don't require the same level of care, but your lover is still grateful when you try to make him feel pampered and cared for. Sometimes stroking the edge of his wings feels ticklish. Sometimes it sends little bolts of desire shooting through his body straight to his cock. You never know whether he's going to laugh and squirm away from your hands, or if he's going to spin around and pin you underneath him.
Beelzebub's wings are thin and extremely sensitive, and he doesn't like it when they're touched. You are a rare exception. He trusts that you won't hurt the delicate wings that sit against his back. It feels nice when you gently run your fingers along the very edges. He rewards your gentleness and understanding with hungry kisses and greedy hands that rid you of all your annoying clothes.
As the crown prince, Diavolo's wings are particularly impressive and adorned with precious gold ornaments. He secretly likes it when you tease him about keeping the gilded gold pieces clean while you polish them to a glimmering shine. For special occasions, he'll even change them to a different metal that suits your preferences better—he wants to look his best for you. Don't be surprised when he offers you gifts of jewelry made with the same precious metals and jewels that match his own. He would love to see you wear them—and only them—the next time he invites you to spend the night.
Most of the time, fucking someone in his true form can be clumsy or awkward. He doesn't just let anyone touch their wings so intimately either. When you're intimate, he might purposefully reveal his wings. His wings wrap around your body and draw you close while he shields you from the world, protecting you when you're naked and vulnerable. (It also hides you from unworthy eyes that don't deserve to see you that way.) Sometimes his wings randomly appear in the height of passion, unfurling at his back when pleasure drives away all thought and reason except the singular desire to touch you. When his mind isn't clouded with lust, he looks a bit bashful that he lost control like that to begin with—it only happens when he's with you.
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Another possibility is a little bit of predator/prey roleplay. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be hunted? Your winged lover is more than happy to indulge in this kink should you ask. The forests of the Devildom (or the human world) are perfect for this. He leads you there and urges you towards the tree line in front of you. He'll even give you a head start.
(You're going to need it.)
It begins when you finally run into the darkened woods with only glimpses of moonlight to illuminate your path. The smallest sounds are impossibly loud, echoing off the trees around you: a snapping twig, the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, your own ragged, panted breaths. Sometimes you see movement from the corner of your eye and when you turn around, there's nothing there. What you do notice is the tree branch high above you shaking slightly, as if someone was just there and then launched himself back into the sky.
(He's toying with you.)
Adrenaline gives you one last burst of energy that propels your feet forward, and you keep running despite the burning in your lungs. The blood in your veins is laced with lust and fear in equal measure. It's not long before you finally hear it: the sound of wings slicing through the air and growing louder as he draws near. Do you hear the soft swish of feathers? The taut snap of leathery wings billowing against the wind? Or perhaps it's the bzzzt of wings fluttering rapidly at his back that quickens your pulse? Suddenly, his familiar silhouette looms above you and blocks the moon from view. You're pinned against his chest before you realize what's happening, and his arms (and sometimes wings) curl around your body. Greedy hands start to pull at your clothes as he crushes his lips against yours. The game is over, and you're finally his to claim.
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read more: obey me masterlist
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paperultra · 8 months
Text
mise en rose.
Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use
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The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.
Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.
Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.
You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.
Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.
There’s something floating in the distance.
A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?
The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.
You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.
“Oh, shit.”
The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.
“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”
“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”
“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”
“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”
“That would not be cool.”
You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”
“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”
“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”
“We have to undress him and warm him up.”
“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.
The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.
“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”
“Uh,” you say.
“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”
“I’ll do it myself.”
With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.
Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.
“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”
It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.
“You’re really not,” Archy replies.
“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”
The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.
“Three days. Maybe.”
You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”
“No.”
“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”
His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”
“Well, okay, if you say so.”
What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.
“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”
After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.
“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.
He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.
“’Bout a day.”
“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”
“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”
“I told you not to touch them.”
“I didn’t. My brother did.”
Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.
“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”
“You’re bladesmiths?”
“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”
This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”
He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.
“’S good.”
“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”
You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.
“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”
“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”
“Roronoa Zoro.”
You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”
“No. I hunt them.”
“You hunt them?”
“That’s what I said.”
You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.
Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.
“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.
“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”
“What?”
“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”
Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”
Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.
“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.
Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”
“Can you prove it?”
“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”
“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”
“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”
He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”
“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”
“Where’s here?”
“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”
“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.
“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”
“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”
You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”
“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”
Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.
True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.
He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.
“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”
Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”
“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”
“Probably,” he says.
“When did you start?”
“When I was eight.”
You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”
It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.
When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”
Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”
You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”
“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”
“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”
“How come you’re here, then?”
You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”
“You’re staying because of your brother.”
“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”
It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.
But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.
Perhaps you’ve made another friend.
“What are you making?”
You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”
The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.
“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.
“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”
Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.
Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.
“Ain’t that your third bottle?”
“I can hold my liquor.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”
He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.
(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)
“Hey, Zoro.”
“Hm.”
Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”
“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.
“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”
“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”
“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”
Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.
“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”
“Really?”
“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”
Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”
“What do you mean?”
“You talk a lot,” he says.
You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”
Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.
Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”
“Nope.”
“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”
His brow furrows as he takes it.
“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”
One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.
“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.
“I know.”
It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.
“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.
“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”
“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”
“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.
You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.
The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.
You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.
Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.
You wipe your nose. “What?”
“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”
It’s like the world tilts on its axis.
Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.
“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”
“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”
“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”
You can barely breathe.
“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”
“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”
“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”
Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.
“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”
You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”
“Okay.”
Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.
“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Is it?
You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –
Free.
“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”
Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.
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inkskinned · 9 months
Text
they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.
but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.
you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.
you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.
you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.
it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."
in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.
someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.
you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).
you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)
and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this
but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.
you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.
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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months
Note
hey I'm so sorry if this is is an unwanted request, but I wanted to ask for a hero x villain story where the villain kidnaps? And tattoos the hero. I think it would be very fun and dramatic. A very permanent and painful reminder.
I really love your work, I've read pieces of your writing for years. Keep doing what you're doing <3
"Hold still, or it's going to be wobbly," the villain said. "Nobody wants a wobbly tattoo, do they? That's just lame."
The hero snarled at them, wordless, unable to do much more with the bit wedged in their mouth. It was, according to the villain, to stop the hero from biting through their own tongue. So, that was nice and reassuring.
They could struggle, but not enough to stop what was going to happen. The grip the villain's various lackeys had on them was too firm and unforgiving. Still - the presence of hands, instead of cold metal, tried to trick some part of their lizard brain into thinking they had a real chance of escape if they just tried hard enough.
They didn't. They knew they didn't. But they struggled all the same, eyes flashing, breath ragged. They'd been forced onto their back on something that looked a little like a dentist's chair, head pinned sideways to face the villain. They only had vague impressions of the rest of the room. Bright light.
The villain had pulled up a chair next to them with their kit.
"So," the villain said, in an affable sort of voice. "It's going to hurt a little, like we talked about. That's mainly because of the location." They began their work, carefully, and the hero squeezed their eyes shut. A whimper escaped them. It was not a little. "Ribs don't have a lot of fat, you see, and you're quite sensitive anyway. But you said that's where you'd get one, so, far be it from me to dictate."
The hero had said hypothetically they would get a tattoo on their ribs. Because it looked cool. They hadn't done any research and they certainly hadn't been serious about it. It had merely been idle conversation with someone they'd thought was their friend.
They'd also said that they would get a jellyfish, or maybe a small bird.
The hero tried to see what the hell the villain was doing, but they couldn't get a good look beyond the distressingly elegant curve of the villain's head.
"I figured you'd want to be conscious, though." The villain laughed, softly. "I wouldn't want to wake up and find out someone had just done something to me, you know? Makes it hard to process it. Freaky."
The hero swore at them. They liked to think the sentiment got through, even if it was just raw sound. Choked.
"You'll look so gorgeous when you're done, though," the villain said. "Don't worry. I'm a professional. I've done this loads of times before."
The hero knew that. That was the problem.
The villain's super-abilities were unusual enough that it had taken the hero far too long to realise that the villain had any, and that they were in fact a monstrosity rather than simply the sexy artist that the hero had met in a bar. Whatever the villain painted, wrote, inked or drew was woven through with their power. It could come alive. It could influence. It could harm or heal that specific area at the villain's whim.
It could, in short, do all manner of things that the hero did not want permanently etched into their skin.
Everyone close to the villain had a tattoo. It didn't bode well.
"Just breathe," the villain said. "You're doing so well. It will be easier on you if you relax."
The hero swore at them again. It didn't make them feel better.
The villain worked on them for what felt like hours. If it was a jellyfish, it was a truly massive jellyfish that curved all the way up their side. The hero still hadn't got a good look. At some point, they'd stopped writhing in the chair, exhausted.
They felt dazed when the villain finally lifted their head, meeting their eyes again. The villain brushed a tear away from the hero's cheek. It reminded the hero to jolt again, but the hands on them remained as relentless as ever.
Another small, involuntary sound left them.
Their skin felt hot. Sunburnt.
"All done," the villain said. They finally eased the bit out of the hero's mouth. "You should have some water. Are you going to drink it nicely?"
"What the hell did you do to me?" the hero demanded. Their voice was raspy.
"It's gorgeous. You'll love it. Water?"
"I don't want anything from you!"
"Good skin is important to good tattoos. But, hey." The villain shrugged. "I can't make you." They gestured for their lackeys to release the hero.
The hero surged up in an instant, fist already flying towards the villain's face. In an instant, their body froze, knuckles inches from the villain's face. It didn't matter how much they strained. They couldn't move.
The villain raised an eyebrow. "You'll want to make sure to keep it clean, to avoid any infection," the villain said. "And don't pick at it, okay? Stay out of the sun. No swimming."
"What did you do to me!?" It came out through gritted teeth.
The villain smirked at them. "I gave you a jellyfish. On the house. You're welcome."
The hero glared.
"That's what you wanted, right?" the villain asked.
"I didn't want this."
The villain shrugged. "I did, though. For the moment I saw you with your clothes off"
"You-" Words didn't feel enough to express the emotion that coursed through the hero at that. "I hate you."
"Yes, I get that quite a lot. I don't generally let it bother me. You do all look so pretty fuming, helpless, at my mercy."
The hero swallowed.
The villain waved a hand, and whatever strange paralysis had overtaken the hero, vanished. They staggered forward, nearly pitching into the villain's lap. The villain caught them to steady them, hands on their waist.
It should have been excruciating, to have the villain's hand on the tattoo, but instead there was a buzz of pleasure across the hero's skin that definitely wasn't normal. They wrenched back as quickly as possible, heart pounding.
Their fists curled, itching with the urge the punch again, but they didn't quite dare get close.
The villain beamed at them, eyes glittering with mirth, apparently knowing exactly what the hero was thinking.
"Now," they said. "Do you want a lift home? Or do you prefer to take a moment to recover here?"
"You're sick."
"I'm up and coming, darling. One day you'll thank me for it."
The hero peeled the bandage off the moment they were at home, alone, to try and get a good look at their new acquisition.
It was a jellyfish, just as the villain had said, inked in full colour and in exquisite detail and artistry. It seeped blue and purple into the hero's skin, with the smallest tinges of shimmering pink. The villain's initials were weaved into the jellyfish's umbrella, subtle to someone not looking for them. Small but there.
The hero didn't remember hitting the bathroom floor, only the dull feeling of their knees giving way beneath them as it all well and truly sunk in.
They could feel it against them. It was almost as if the tentacles were moving, gently, caressing their ribs. As if the villain's fingers were there, a ghost of a blazing touch.
They got a horrific amount of compliments about the damn thing.
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andypantsx3 · 2 months
Note
Andy I just had a thought.. Shouto kabedon.. i’m very sane about this
Omg I loooveeeeeeeee this omg!!!!!!! You are a genius!!!!!!! This ask unlocked something inside of my brain; this is barely coherent and unedited but I offer you this heartfelt nonsense in return.
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contents: shouto x reader, sfw, implied fem reader, aged-up characters, 1.7k
You tried to ignore it when you first heard Mineta say it.
"Trust me, the babes love it," he'd lisped to his doubtful audience—Kaminari, a befuddled-looking Kirishima, and Shouto, whose face was so impassive you'd actually been under the impression he wasn't listening.
The former members of UA's graduating class of 2X74 were stuffed into Kaminari's new apartment for a party. It was mostly the heroics department, but you'd spotted a few of your fellow general course graduates as you'd passed through the kitchen to grab a drink. You'd come out into the living room to see Mina and Jirou—as well as pretend like you weren't ogling your long-time crush Shouto—but you found you were immediately regretting leaving the safety of that kitchen.
"And you've... done it?" Kirishima asked, eyebrows scrunched.
Mineta made a show of inspecting his fingernails like it was nothing to him—which you seriously doubted. "Trust me, women like assertiveness. This move is plastered all over their romance manga."
You took another sip from your drink. You wanted to pretend like you weren't hearing this, but Mina and Jirou were making it hard, Jirou stone-faced next to you and Mina unsuccessfully trying to filter her gleeful laughter into her own drink.
"Do you think women even know it's a kabedon, if he does it?" she asked, leaning in to whisper.
Jirou looked doubtful.
"He's like, waist height," you whispered back, sighing. "I don't even know if his arm would reach the wall either...?"
"I think it probably looks like he's just trying to hold himself up," Mina said, her grin unholy.
"I pity the woman he's attempted it on," Jirou said drily.
"—you're sure?" Kaminari was saying when you turned back to the boys' conversation, also looking doubtful.
"One hundred percent success rate," Mineta insisted, eyebrows wiggling.
Despite yourself, your eyes slid over to Shouto, like they almost always did, wandering over that handsomely thoughtful expression. It was the thing you liked the most about him—how his angelically beautiful visage was at stark odds with how awkward and kind of strange he was; how he looked like an ice prince but was one of the warmest, kindest people you'd ever spoken to.
You'd been paired for a couple assignments back in school, hung out on the periphery of his Class A friend groups, and had ended up teaching him a fair few things about how to cook and do laundry when he'd asked. He'd even rescued you during one of the many attacks that made up your time at UA together—which was really when your crush hit you full-force.
He'd been so gentle with you, carrying you out of harm's way when your injured leg had crumpled beneath you, and the careful way he'd handled you had been so at variance with the raw, roiling power he'd wielded on the battlefield—the tidal waves of ice that swept up the villains, the towering wall of fire that mercilessly choked off any of their escape points.
You thought Shouto was one of the most gentle, well-mannered men on earth.
He would probably never kabedon someone. He would never need to—people fell all over themselves for him.
"The babes fall right into your arms," Mineta said, raising his voice to encompass the knot of girls stuffed together on the loveseat. "Isn't that right, ladies?"
"I'm going to get another drink, the image of Mineta trying to kabedon me needs to be wiped from my brain," you told the girls, flinging yourself over Mina's legs in your haste to escape.
The kitchen was a welcome reprieve, and you dug around in Kaminari's fridge for another can, letting the cool air wash over you. You studiously ignored that all Kaminari seemed to have in his fridge was a pile of moldering grapes and some mayo.
Can acquired, you briefly considered not going back out into the living room and abandoning Mina and Jirou to their fate. But the pull of Shouto was too strong, and with a sigh you resigned yourself to more of Mineta's lechery.
In the hallway, however, you stumbled into the man himself, coming towards you from the opposite direction. You were struck momentarily dumb by the way the breadth of his shoulders seemed to take up almost the entire span of the hall, the way his fading summer tan looked against the light-blue of his button up. He was so handsome even when he was just walking, it was so deeply unfair.
"Hi Shouto," you said, raising your can in a salute, hoping your voice sounded normal. "Careful in Kaminari's fridge, he's culturing something on his grapes."
Shouto blinked down at you, those beautiful mismatched eyes growing a little wider. "Y/N," he greeted you, though there was a note of something strange in his voice, like there was something weird about you that he hadn't expected.
You wondered if you'd spilled something on yourself like a child, and decided to detour to the bathroom on your way back. How embarrassing.
You gave him a rueful grin, stuffing yourself against the wall so you wouldn't accidentally bump a strong shoulder as you passed, swearing vengeance on your drink if it had betrayed you in this moment—
Except, suddenly there was a hand against the wall in front of you, blocking your passage down the hall. You startled, whipping back around to stare at Shouto, only to find him looming way closer than you had anticipated.
Your back bumped the wall as he crowded you in, his other arm coming up to press against the wall on your other side, caging you inside his reach.
Your mind was so overwhelmed with the sight of him this close—that straight, blade-thin nose, that full, pouty mouth—the light touch of some expensive cologne at his collarpoints—that it took you a second to catch up with what was going on.
Your mouth dropped open when you registered that Todoroki Shouto had just—kabedoned you?—was actively kabedonning you? what the literal fuck—in the middle of Kaminari's hallway.
"Shouto? What—?" you managed, your voice strangled. The air felt like it was resisting you, refusing to be drawn into your lungs.
Shouto's voice was low and intimate as he answered, sending a mortifyingly visible shiver right down your spine. "Is it working?"
You gaped at him, eyes flickering over his serious expression. "Is—what—?"
Shouto shifted even closer, so that his face was a scant two inches from yours. You were suddenly, horrifyingly aware of how close his mouth was, how tall and strong and warm he was over you.
"Do you plan to fall into my arms?" Shouto asked. "Mineta said women liked it."
It was a fight for your life to make the connection over the static in your brain, the lack of oxygen in the air. Mineta had said women would fall for you if you kabedonned them... Shouto was.... kabedonning you.... computation pending...
"You... want it to work?" you asked, words clipped. You felt like any stray movement and your mouth would brush his, and you didn't know if he wanted—it was too strange to think that he might—
"Yes," Shouto replied, his handsome face serious. Those heterochromatic eyes searched over you, trailing over your features like a warm touch. "I want it to. Am I... not doing it correctly?"
Your face heated, and an entire conservatory of butterflies took flight in your stomach. You could not believe what was going on right now.
"No you're—you're doing it right."
Shouto's face was even closer, then, his mouth a whisper away from yours. "Then you have fallen for me," he said, sounding like both a question and a conclusion. He looked like he didn't know what to do next.
You had to suppress a laugh, charmed and mystified and nervous all at once. He was so reliably strange—of course he had taken Mineta's assertions at face value. And he was so straightforward, of course he had implemented the advice straight away. He was so silly, you liked him so, so much.
"I... have," you said, a helpless smile creeping over your lips. "Although it was a while before the kabedon, to be honest."
Shouto blinked, and you could just barely see his mouth grow a little slack in surprise. "Oh," he said, a hint of a shy smile touching his mouth. "Good."
"Yeah. Good," you said, your own grin going wider.
Shouto's eyes dipped down to your mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered. A thrill of anticipation went down your spine, your knees suddenly liquefying, as Shouto leaned back in, and your own eyes fluttered closed.
The press of his mouth was hot and soft—perfect, like you'd always fantasized it would be. He shifted closer, so that he pressed against you, and you had to tilt your head back to accommodate how tall he was, reveling in the strength and the heat of him over you. One of his hands left the wall to thread into your hair as he kissed you, cradling the back of your head like you were something precious, and your stomach swooped in response.
He kissed you boneless, absolutely stupid against the wall of Kaminari's hallway, and it was all your could do to wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. You didn't know how long it was that the two of you stood there, wrapped up in one other. All you knew was you never wanted Shouto's mouth to leave yours again, never wanted to leave the circle of his embrace.
So of course an appreciative whistle broke the two of you apart. You tore your mouth away from Shouto's only to find Mineta standing at the end of the hall, grinning like a wolf. A tiny, lecherous little wolf.
"Nice one, Tododoki," he said, like you weren't even there.
You bristled, stiffening in Shouto's arms as you glanced back at him quickly to measure his response. But the dazed look on Shouto's face pulled you up short, and he looked at Mineta like he wasn't really seeing him.
"You were right," was what he eventually managed. "The kabedon is very effective. Now if you will excuse us, I need to do it again."
A shocked laugh escaped you as Shouto's hand seized yours, and then you were being pulled around the corner into Kaminari's bathroom. Shouto walked you back against the door, an arm coming up just like before, pinning you against the door.
Another pleased laugh was muffled in Shouto's mouth as he took yours again, cupping your face to his. The lock clicked shut behind you.
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