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#Even more points if the human form is a Tall Guy.

headspace-hotel · 4 months

Text

you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.

Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.

Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.

Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.

Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it

Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)

Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.

Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.

a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.

this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.

EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.

An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.

#random

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redflagshipwriter · 3 months

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Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy)

Chapter 1

The expectant smiles froze on his siblings’ faces.

Jason blinked, still shaking off the disorientation of the green twisting blur that always came when he took his turn with tHe RitUaL. “What?” he said. It came out defensive. Usually they were all laughing by this point.

Dick reached out and took the post-it off his forehead. “We may have misunderstood this sacrificial thing.” He frowned at the note.

Jason tore it away and flipped it around to read it.

“...Please stop the bridal sacrifices,” he read, voice instantly trembling with the need to laugh. Holy shit. “Proposal is kinda forward. But if you really want, I’d totally go on a date with you. Check yes or no. Danny.” There were two smiley faces after the name and a scribbled drawing of a human looking guy with tall hair.

The batcave was in total, mortified silence. The ritual that had become their pre-patrol goof-off activity of choice had maybe… maybe been a mistake?

“I’m kinda hurt,” Dick broke the silence. “I’m marriageable. I’m a catch, even.” He was joking, but Jason was pretty sure that it wasn’t totally baseless. Who would look at Dick and then choose Jason, of all the people?

Stephanie snorted. “It’s probably your reputation as Ritchie Rich,” she soothed. “I’m sure if this… is it the same guy every time?” She blinked, clearly distracted from her original thought. “Have we all been proposing to Danny day after day?” She wondered. She started counting on her fingers.

“Twice last week,” Tim said thoughtfully. “I proposed to him twice last week.” A line formed between his brows. “I should probably tell Bernard, huh?”

“We must communicate with whoever this Danny is,” Damian said immediately. “If this realm possesses both animal life that resembles our fauna and sentient beings capable of the bad judgment necessary to select Todd as a suitor over Richard, we must know more.”

Jason made a face at Damian and flipped him off, but didn’t disagree. “How is this supposed to work?” He waved the post-it. That did imply some modernity, at least. They were communicating with someone who had stationary. “If I was going to check it, would he know what I picked? Or would I have to– should be bride sacrifice a notebook back and forth?”

“A notebook,” Tim said scathingly. “We can do better than that. A communicator, a phone.”

“Who says Danny has signal, dingbat,” Jason shot back. “He’s probably out of the service area.”

Cass took the paper out of his hand and peered at it. “Yes or no,” she asked, cutting off the disagreement before it could get heated.

He didn’t have to think about it. “Yes,” Jason said, mischief in every line of his body. “I gotta see where this is going. We should at least meet the guy.”

“He said you were tempting!” Dick gasped. He grabbed Jason by the arm and clung on. “Remember? The first time? You’re his type!”

Damian made a ‘gross’ face, features scrunched up like an unhappy cat. Stephanie ‘ooooed’ like she was watching a wrestling match. Cass merely looked thoughtful.

Jason shook his annoying brother off and kept him at a distance with a palm on Dick’s forehead.

“Oooh, the void boy has a crush on you,” Stephanie teased. “You’d be such a beautiful bride, Jason.” She didn’t react to Cass reaching into her hip pouch and withdrawing a sparkly purple pen. Jason loftily ignored Stephanie and watched Cass carefully check YES.

The note disappeared. Cass looked at her empty hand. She flicked the pen between her fingers. Her brow scrunched up.

“Shit!” Jason cursed. “Did-”

The group broke out into an explosion of excited sound.

A throat cleared from the stairs. “Kids?”

Batman stood there, wearing wary suspicion and most of his patrol outfit. He was under the impression that they had agreed to stop sacrificing each other to the green void.

“She took my pen,” Stephanie wailed, instantly switching tracks. Cass backflipped away three times and then leapt directly upwards into the rafters, waiving the purple pen tauntingly. Stephanie chased after her.

“What-”

“Jason won’t let me hug him,” Dick tattletailed. He lunged to grab at Jason. Jason dodged on reflex and threw himself into the scuffle.

“I need to call Bernard.” Tim turned and outright left the Batcave. “I’ll be about five minutes late for patrol, B.”

Bruce watched this chaos with bewildered eyes. “...We leave in ten,” he said, and visibly gave up.

…

The date, when it came, was a fuckin surprise to Jason. He was minding his own business compiling a report on everything the Two-Facers had done last week. (There was a surprising amount of bureaucratic process involved in making yourself the judge, jury, and executioner of people who sucked.)

And then there was a violently green hole in his wall. “Huh,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. He pulled the handgun out of his desk drawer and cocked it at the portal. “Not sure I care for that.”

“Thanks, wolf,” came a warbled and nonsensical reply. Jason turned off the safety.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

The portal flashed white and it closed. He was lifting his gun to point at the man now standing in his apartment before he’d actually processed that someone had come through. This guy moved fast.

“This is where you live?” The other man was peering around Jason’s apartment. He seemed politely interested at best, and, Jason felt, much less concerned by the gun than he should have been. “I heard bats before. I thought there would be more bats.” His tone was disappointed. He looked at Jason and then flinched his palms out and up, as if he thought he might have come off rude. “Not that you need bats! Or that I’m disappointed by the lack of bats in your decor. In fact you have wonderful, uh, curtains.” He very obviously named the first thing that he saw. He pretended to be fascinated by them. “The red sure is a choice.”

Jason snorted.

“A great choice! I’m not criticizing your home. It’s great.”

Jason realized that if he didn’t say anything to save him, Danny was going to ramble himself into a verbal corner and slink out of the dimension to escape his obvious embarrassment.

“...You hair looks just like in the picture you drew,” Jason said. He put the safety back on. “Hello, Danny.” The name tasted odd in his mouth. It twas just a little pedestrian for the other man– no, teenager, the other teenager.

Danny looked young. No wonder he’d thrown Dic back like the wrong fish.

Jason felt a little less smug about having been the one chosen. Maybe he was just the most age appropriate candidate, not Danny’s type. Timmers was only two years younger, sure, but he was petite enough that it was a little ambiguous.

Danny turned away from Jason’s window and beamed up at him like that was the greated compliment he could have ever received. “I don’t actually have your name! Which is funny, since you kept manifesting in my house.”

God help him, Danny was cute. Jason reached out a hand. “Jason.”

Danny looked at his outstretched hand and then back to his eyes. He blinked. “Are- oh!” He flushed green and his hand shot out to meet Jason’s in what was very clearly the first handshake of his life.

It was a struggle not to laugh. He didn’t wanna make Danny feel bad so he held it in. There was a helpful distraction in that Danny was fascinating to the touch. It didn’t feel like he was touching a human hand. First off, the hand was about the temperature of butter straight from the fridge. Secondly, somehow the physical contact made Jason taste mint in his mouth.

But really, it just… it didn’t feel like human skin. It was too smooth. There was a raised line from a scar, but the texture was as if all the wrinkles and pores of human skin had been polished off. Like if you held the hand of a marble statue and it was somehow also soft.

Jason pulled his hand away before he could wonder too much if that supernatural smoothness extended elsewhere. Ah. Too late. He flushed a little red, even though the only exposed skin was Danny’s hands and face. “So you’re here to uh, set up a date?” he offered.

Danny blinked at him. “Are you busy now? I was thinking now.”

…He was sort of busy. Jason closed his notebooks, only now concerned that Danny might have seen extremely sensitive information. “Nope,” he lied, attention catching on Danny’s freckles. Something about them was pinging as relevant. Was there a pattern? They weren’t symmetrical or anything. Were they fake?

Danny beamed and - he floated up a few inches in his excitement. Holy hell that was cute. “Great!” he enthused. “Should we go to your place or to mine?”

Uh.

Jason turned violently red. “We are already in my place.” His voice came out tight. He- he hadn’t meant that. That was not a first date activity for him.

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop. “Go out in your city or go to the Ghost Zone!” Danny waved his hands frantically. “I’m not being a creep I swear! I mean, we are kind of spiritually engaged but I’m also engaged to– are those people your friends and family?” He was outright horrified. “Oh my GOD, I’m-”

“I would love to take you out around town, but you’ll stand out,” Jason interrupted. He couldn’t hold back the smile. “We can make it work, though. Thoughts on hats and glowing less?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Danny twitched his hands outward in a motion he probably didn’t even know he was doing. There was another flash of white light that crawled up and down his body.

And Danny one was gone. Danny two stood in Jason’s apartment with dark hair, patched jeans, and a loose t-shirt that hid the musculature his jumpsuit had displayed. He had a full palette switch of his eyes and skin tone as well.

He was obviously the same guy. He just felt more down to earth now.

“Useful,” Jason said, and tugged at his snow-white forelock. “Think you could teach me to change my hair like that?” He was only half joking. It was the bane of his existence when he needed to go undercover. It was too distinctive.

“No, but Doctor Frostbite might be able to sort that out for you,” Danny replied absently.

Jason grimaced instinctively. He knew way too many gimmicky villains to want to do to someone called Doctor Frostbite. “That sounds like the name of a B-tier villain with blue hair.”

Danny paused and clearly contemplated it. “That’s Ember, actually,” which made no branding sense because the word ember evoked warm colors. “Lead the way!” He bounced on his heels, which Jason guessed was his human form equivalent to floating up.

Jason cleared his throat. “I, uh, am gonna want to change.”

For the first time, Danny really looked him up and down and realized that he was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and black boxers. Jason waited patiently as Danny went through all the stages of grief and social mortification. That didn’t stop Danny’s eyes from followed Jason’s bare arms when he casually lifted one and flexed a little, rubbing at the back of his head. Ha. Eat that, Dick.

“I’m going to go drown myself,” Danny said, now violently pink. Huh, even blushing for a color change. “Can I use your restroom?”

“Stay alive enough to pick between Korean or Mexican,” Jason advised. “I’ll be right back. Should I find you a coat?” He didn’t wait for an answer, frowning at Danny’s bare arms. “I’m gonna find you a coat.” He was already on the way to his bedroom. “It’s freezing out.”

…

#red check yes #jason todd #red hood #dp x dc #dead on main

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

Note

it's almost 4am i can't get this out of my head holy shit.

reader whose original body is a literal eldritch forest deity and speaks in hymns (bonus points: after we isekai into said og body, we mix slang into it).

the acolytes have to break their fucking necks just to talk to you eye-to-eye, and the only thing they can make out of what you say is something equal to tablets bajillion years old already.

or that reader is constantly cussing and the acolytes just nod along not understanding whatever this 15ft tall eldritch horror is saying.

-🫀

ELDRITCH HORROR READER. I LIVEEE, NONE OF U UNDERSTAND, THIS IS SO DEEPLY AHHHHHH

I LITERALLY JUST SHIMMY STIM IN MY SEAT WHEN I THINK ABT THIS TOO LONG LMAO

i LIVE AND BREATHE for when we look like eldritch horrors but are just people lmao

IF I HAVEN’T RUN U OFF, 🫀 MY HEART, MI CORAZON <3

U HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND DESPITE BEING A BLOODY HEART

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only), Eldritch!Reader

Planet: Misc. Genshin AUs

Orbit: some headcanons, tiny scenario

Stars: a little bit of Zhongli, Xiao, Ganyu, Ningguang, Keqing, and the adepti

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Light Description of Body Modifications/Body Horror-esque, Light Description of Eldritch Horror Creature, Reader has a Non-Human Body,

& Trigger Warnings: Eldritch Monster, Light Body Horror, Non-Con Body Modifications (Wake up as a monster, described as positive).

FUCKING LOVE THIS GIF, AND THIS SONG AND ARTISTTT

hey so here’s a song to listen I was listening to while writing this, chose the instrumental bc it was less distracting!

👉👈 hope u like :)

you just come into Teyvat from either Enkanomiya, the straight up Abyss/Dark Realm or even Celestia/Light Realmunder that glowing mushrooms tree in the Chasm, or like, ooo even by the upside down Barbatos statue 👀

and its great bc ur like- “omg Teyvat ooooo, ahhhh”

meanwhile the animals/magical creatures/beings nearby like shakin in their boots

literally no matter what land type their in, water, air, etc. they’re all bowing (despite the hooves, the paws, the flippers, the wings,) hell, even the bugs?? Might be bowing???

and you were slow to wake up wherever you were, so it took you a second to really process-

plus it just felt so weirdly, natural?

Not like walking on 2 legs no, but more like, how swimming feels but without the act of doing it?

you realize you’re… hovering.

wow, guess you can do that now,

your pretty much crowned with every flower from the regions of Teyvat, and a few from other Realms like Celestia, Abyss, and Enkanomiya, etc.

you have extra limbs, you feel them shift like you’ve had them all your life, even tho you do smack urself a few times with them lmao (new hand-eye coordination is hard)

and you realize u can see elemental traces/elements of beings, even plants, all the time now?

It isn’t until you look into a pretty still pond that you see what you look like,

you’ve got more eyes

I mean u thought you’d just be one of the twins, or ur own person if somebody asked u what youd look like isekaied to Genshin Impact, not what looks like the elemental god of the fucking continent

but you don’t look bad! actually you think you look kinda neat!

You’ve got like this coat of many draping vines and plantlife, glowing coral poking out near the top that’s around your throat, and- is that- tiny waterfalls?? Running down your nature cape too??

the many gemstones and ore of this planet form your legs, strong and taller than even regular human guys back on Earth, you’re like what? Eight? Nine feet? (about 245cm, or 2.5 meters)

You’re head… it’s like a dragons skull?? You’ve got these black horns flowing out from the top too that fade to a golden glow, like a crown nearly, theyre draped with what looks like strings of primogems??

oh and your extra eyes are symmetrical that’s good!

tho it does seem like you got this handy hood included into your cape of much nature to flop onto your head

where your heart should be, there’s two bursting stars circling one another, one of pink, purples and light blues, the other of gold and blue, oh hey, the wishing stars for standard and character banners!

and if you like mushrooms, at least one of every kind in Teyvat’s countries/regions is looking cool on ur cape, and if you like bugs, the cool ones like the rhino beetles from inazuma are being cute little buddies on ur stuff too

and like in the gif, every step you take overfills with life, except it stays and doesn’t wither like above, and it also does that glow bit that some places in Sumeru do/Enkanomiya

You CANNOT be missed no matter where you walk, and your sort of constantly feeling like you’ve drank 3 energy + 5 espresso shots of coffee

but in a way that makes you sort of full? like full on life… and like you could be even bigger, and taller, if you willed it

♤

k but the adepti felt ur presence coming in hot from literal mountains away

Cloud Retainter, and Guizhong, had set up inventions long ago to sense the Original of Teyvat, just in case, because some signs of prophecy of your return had begun to show in their lands

Zhongli especially knew you were close to come after another major sign was met, the corruption after the Archon War, and the ravaging of the land by the fall of Khaenri’ah’s “metal beasts”

So when you finally walk your way into Jueyun Karst, the adepti are already waiting, Xiao, Ganyu, and Zhongli as well,

Luckily Ganyu, with Zhongli’s help or advice, convinced the adepti to share this meeting with the Qixing as well like Keqing, and the Tianquan herself

It was a momentous occasion after all, but you were just now feeling the need to maybe nap a little after nearly, what was it, 2 weeks worth of constant walking?

wow this new body had literal stamina for days

you arrived late into the night, around midnight, under a full moon, and they’re relieved all the signs are being met

◇

honestly the only reason you headed to Liyue was bc you knew it was the closest (the map of Teyvat was both familiar in the way it had been in game, but also on a deeper level, like walking around your house in the dark)

and u rlly wanted to be able to talk to somebody, bc u had no idea?? wtf you were??

honestly you thought the adepti/Zhongli would be a good bet bc they’d maybe tell u what creature u ended up as,

u did suspect maybe you’d ended up as some kind of god, but like?? none of the other gods looked like this???

and u see them all! up ahead in Jueyun Karst! Oh no! You really, really, really, hope they don’t think you’re a walking talking evil tree dragon thing-

…maybe you should wave?

◇

As you get closer,

Xiao’s back straigtens, Ganyu nervously looks at the ground, Keqing is trying to figure out where to look bc ur so tall, Ningguang has her hands respectfully folded in front of her and her facial muscles looks tensed for a fight almost, the adepti are shuffling nervously bc they’re not used to being the magically weaker/younger creatures in the area, and Zhongli-

Zhongli is no longer the mortal Zhongli.

Amber horns curl up from his head, long brunette hair with glowing gold tips flowing and loose, claws on display, as he stands in his finest and oldest lóng páo, black with gold detailing embroidered throughout, it details his deeds as Rex Lapis and Morax, the spears of his vanquishing gods across the front and back, he looks like a living painting

and although he looks as serene as if he’s about to sit down for some tea, the adepti can see the tremoring hands, the same he used to hide in his sleeves when he was genuinely intimidated by another god, usually the older ones he’d had to fight

but for the first time since the archon war, this was one he was going to welcome with open arms, and utmost respect, despite his position as archon forfeited

there’s a strange music in the air of the night as the animals and the bugs and creatures of the realm subtly make the beat, the god’s feet (of ore Rex Lapis hasn’t seen since he was a child, it was so rare to find) shake the earth of his land with each step, a deep quiet booming like a drum of war as they get closer

The God of All stops some distance away from them

…and the Huangdi of All, just waves. 💀👋

at Zhongli, the adepti, Xiao, the Tianquan, and the Qixing.

A long black limb with a rainbow shine like a crow’s wing raises, gives an ironically tiny wave of their clawed black hand,

and tilts their head, though a sort of greenery hood covering it

and speaks,

“ ˙˙˙ʎzɐɹɔ sı ʇıɥs sıɥʇ ¿ʍou ʇɥƃıɹ ɯɐ ı ʞɔnɟ ǝɥʇ ʇɐɥʍ ʍouʞ sʎnƃ noʎ op uɯɐp”

your voice is like singing, deep, high, like a choir trying to sing all at once to them

Xiao cringes a little in surprise, he was braced for your older speech just in case but it still caught him off guard, and unfortunatly, he gives a quick glance to Lord Rex Lapis,

he can’t understand any of that, and Ganyu and Keqing are in the same boat, but while the Yaksha’s only done passive studying in hopes of understanding you, the Lord of Geo had gone much further back in trying to make sure he could understand your words, should the day come, his library, even now living as a mortal, is extensive

the other adepti and Ningguang catch a few words, but it’s too,, simple really, to understand

the words have no context, they need more, but such is the ancients, they’re meanings simple and all-encompassing

Lord Rex Lapis bows deeply,

“We welcome you with open arms, our Huangdi. Please, feast your eyes upon the land with which I have wrought with mine own talons, for all is ever truly yours.”

the adepti announces for them all, voice giving away no nerves, Xiao can still understand him luckily, though he has greatly simplified himself for the sake of being understood by the ancient god of creation,

“ ˙˙˙ʞɔıʇs ɐ uo ʇsıɹɥɔ snsǝɾ ¡¿ılƃuoɥz noʎ uǝʌǝ ¿noʎ oʇ poƃ ɟo puıʞ ǝɯos ɯ,ı 'ǝʇnuıɯ uɯɐp ɐ ʇıɐʍ”

your voice is an energy through the air, and makes the trees nearby lean in to hear you better, the creeks and ponds of the area leave their beds a little to get closer, geo crystalflys emerge and begin to swirl around your natural body, perching on your horns, making it look even more like a crown

Xiao gulps.

Rex Lapis’ and Ningguang’s spines straighten further if they even can from the impeccable posture they were before, They share a quick glance…

…neither of them caught that one, only a few words, and Ganyu feels her shoulders drop as she gives up trying to hear you and understand as well,

you make a strange sound, a high humming, a deep confusion with some worry, the crystalflys buzz around you a little faster,

then point to yourself

...and make a peace sign. ✌️

it was going to be a long night.

☆

idk if this made any sense, and I sincerely hope that you at least liked what I wrote a little bit, sorry about the over description 😭 I just felt like it was very important but then I realized I hadn’t even talked about the language yet… anyway here u go LMAO

I hope it was alright, and I seriously love your idea, even if I didn’t take it in the direction you wanted/as cool as you meant!! :/

Thanks for the badass idea, i fucking love eldritch shit <3

☆

Safe Travels,

💀 ♒

♡my beloved♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

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arachine · 1 year

Text

— what's going on down there?: a dick analysis

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: jake sully, miles quaritch & norm spellman

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their human forms + avatar forms

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: talking about dicks obviously, explicit sexual content (?), humor lol

ᥫ᭡ note :: if you know anything about arachine, you know i love a good dick analysis. these posts are intended for comedic purposes only, which means they’re not to be taken seriously.

— jake “ima slut you out” sully

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: as we all know, jake’s life on earth was very unfulfilling. he was a man who sacrificed his legs for the fate of the country, only to be disposed of into the unforgiving hands of society, with no way to reap the benefits (or lack thereof) that veterans were promised to receive. and after losing the privilege of mobility, his body changed drastically. he got smaller, his body got weaker, and yet, one thing remained—that dick! jake is a survivor, through and through—his personal motto is: if it ain’t broken, then it’s still working—and boy, he does not disappoint when it comes to the downstairs department. standing tall at 7 inches, is little jake (maybe not so little). when flaccid, his length measures at a solid 5.7 inches. definitely a grower.

⟳ width: a little bit on the skinnier side, but he knows how to use it and that’s all that matters!

⟳ color: i think for the most part, his shaft definitely matches the rest of his body; though, i can see it maybe being slightly a little more darker at the base, like a very light beige. when he’s flaccid, his tip is a pretty pink, almost like a ballet slipper (aka the best pink). turns into an angry red when fully erect!

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: jake pegs me as the kinda guy who doesn’t really care? i mean, trimming isn’t foreign to him, because he has trimmed it before, and does so when he notices it’s gotten to be too long…but, i don’t think it’s something that he does often. to him, it’s just hair. he’s on his grown man shit, you know?

02. curved?: uhm, yes! you know that one beyoncé lyric? yeah.

03. any veins?: absolutely covered in ‘em

04. how he fucks with it: i’d like to think before his accident, he was a doggy style connoisseur—come on, it’s jake we’re talking about here. can’t nobody tell me otherwise! i just know he had bitches bent over, weaves sweated out, makeup all over the pillows…mans was f-u-c-k-i-n-g okay? fuckingggg.

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: the masses may attack me, but it’s time i spoke up. the man has a monster schlong. a cooter cat killer, if you will. if you thought his human form was big, shit, you ain’t seen nothing yet! completely flaccid, his cock measures to about 10 inches. when fully hard, he grows an additional three! talk about impressive…

⟳ width: so thick that it basically slaps his thighs when he walks. the man could create a beat with it, get em into the soundcloud business now!

⟳ color: self explanatory tbh, it’s fucking blue. as blue as papa smurf’s ass.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that because he’s an avatar, he grows hair there. even if i’m wrong, i’m right. i don’t give a damn what james cameron says. he’s basically my character at this point, and i will him to have hair damnit! just…the idea of him having a full bush down there, in the wild, all primitive and shit…does something to me. idk. don’t ask me why i’m so nasty, blame my deadbeat father.

02. curved?: is a banana yellow? there’s your answer.

03. any veins?: i might have a brain aneurysm just thinking about it, but yes! god, yes. so many…so, so, so many. ribbed for her pleasure or whatever trojan said.

04. how he fucks with it: is he still the doggy style connoisseur? yes. but now that’s got the strength of 20 men, backshots sound a whole lot like gunshots now. they say every time the mighty toruk makto thrusts into a cunt, a tree falls down or something. so, yes. fucks hard, fucks rough, fucks like he’s on a mission. what’s that one tik tok audio? “rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, i dive in her cervix.” yeah, he lives by that.

— miles “on your knees, cadet!” quaritch

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: just gonna cut right to the chase. he’s huge. like pussy splitting huge. i don’t care what anyone says, you can argue with ya friend, you can argue with ya mother, but you cannot argue with me! coming in at a solid 6 when flaccid, quaritch takes the cake for the biggest cock on this list (at least, human form wise). at full length, he measures to about 7.8 inches!

‘booooo’ you say, well, guess what? it’s the truth, and i’m just the messenger. whether you hate him or love him, he’s just that guy.

⟳ width: surprisingly average. but it’s okay, sometimes you can’t have the best of both worlds.

⟳ color: if my memory serves me right, he was pretty tan in the first movie. so, i’m gonna stick with that and say that it’s a pretty tan that transitions into a pale pink. i don’t know if some of you have seen old dick, but their tips get less saturated with age. it’s a phenomenon (not really, the blood flow to the groin is just a lot slower, which can make it appear kind of gre—anyway, i digress!)

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: this man is a colonel, so he’s all about discipline and keeping things nice and tidy. so, obviously, his hygiene reflects that. i don’t think he goes completely bald, but he does give it a good trim. kind of like a fade…just imagine a patch of grey, prickly hair. yeah.

02. curved?: yes, and since he’s older, it’s probably curved a lot. you could probably hang something on it. maybe a towel, or a lanyard. it’s definitely useful for something!

03. any veins?: god, i don’t know why, but i have it in my head that he’s on steroids. he’s just so buff and strong, and i mean, yeah, he could just be really fit…but he could also be a self-image obsessed freak who takes drugs to be the perfect soldier. the correlation, you ask? well, i just feel like people who take steroids are really veiny, and i feel like his dick would be really, really veiny. so, thus the rant about steroids. steroid dick.

04. how he fucks with it: don’t let his age fool you. he may very well be pushing his late fifties, but he’s still a young man at heart—and he’s definitely got the sex drive to prove it! i can see his favorite position being something like missionary. not so much because he enjoys the intimacy of it (like being face to face), but more so because he’s got a size kink—and definitely a dacryphilia kink. he enjoys seeing his partners cry, whether in pain, or in pleasure, or both! so, when you’re fucking him, don’t expect anything romantic. he just wants to see your pretty little face all teary eyed and pathetic.

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: so big you can see it from space; that’s how the RDA mfs know they’re close, because they can see the tip protruding from pandora. no, but seriously, it’s still really huge. like maybe 12-14 inches—maximum.

⟳ width: probably twice as thick as a human’s forearm. and god, it’s sooooo heavy. big breeding balls to match.

⟳ color: blue blue blue…like wet fun dip. with just as many stripes as the american flag or whatever.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: yes, but the hair is black instead of grey and it’s probably really straight because na’vi hair is straight as fuck.

02. curved?: sir, yes sir.

03. any veins?: what’d i say? steroid dick. but even worse (better) now bc he’s so damn tall, he needs all the blood he can get down there.

04. how he fucks with it: has you in all types of positions. his favorites are anything that shows off his new found strength, so i’m betting on full nelsons and mating presses. just fast, powerful strokes. lives by the motto: can’t stop, won’t stop.

— norm “what’s the sq root of 69?” spellman

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: i’m sorry to disappoint the norm fuckers (if there are any), but he’s not that big. when he’s soft, his cock measures to about 4.8 inches, and at most, 6.2 inches when hard.

⟳ width: skinny dick.

⟳ color: dawg he’s so white, it’s like hella pale and the tip is so pink that when he’s aroused, it looks like there’s something wrong.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: like jake, i don’t think he really cares.

02. curved?: straight like a pencil

03. any veins?: like two, and they’re really prominent because he’s so fucking pale.

04. how he fucks with it: i don’t think human norm is getting puss, let’s be real.

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: i am a firm believer in N.W.B.C—nerds with big cocks. it’s just the universe’s way of saying thank you, they just…they just do so much for us, you know? norm may not have been packing down there in his human form, but this was his second chance at redemption. he’s now a proud member of N.W.B.C, sporting an impressive 15 inches. you know that one scene in the first spider-man when pete’s looking at himself in the mirror and he looks inside his briefs? yeah, that was norm when he found out. the man got so excited, he accidentally catapulted a scientist out of pandora’s atmosphere with the weight of his cock. joking.

⟳ width: on the skinnier side but still toe curling, nonetheless.

⟳ color: laffy taffy blue, with little (big) blueberry balls.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: no, he’s too busy in the lab and getting na’vi puss.

02. curved?: unfortunately no

03. any veins?: more than before, which he was pleasantly surprised to see.

04. how he fucks with it: norm’s got a big dick, but he acts so shy, like he’s scared of it or something. like stop playing boy and drop them drawls, the fuck? anyway, i think norm’s a sub. he pegs me as the type of guy who likes strong women, women who’ll tell him to shut the fuck up (because he talks so much) and eat their pussies. i guess this makes him a munch. yeah, he’s a munch. ice spice actually wrote that song with him in mind!

#jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #miles quaritch smut #avatar x reader #avatar x reader smut #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water smut #atwow x reader #atwow smut

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lucyandthepen · 2 years

Text

gorgeous | lmh ( m )

there is a part 2!

you don’t know what in the football uniform mark is wearing is so attractive. maybe it’s how broad is shoulders always look in that jersey. maybe it’s how nicely accentuated his ass is when he’s running. or, maybe, just maybe, it’s how painfully conspicuous the outline of his cock is through those pants.

or, you know. all of the above.

pairing: mark x reader rating: R genre: college / football au, romance, humor, smut warnings: kind of feels like pwp with just a bit of background pining I guess, semi-public (?) sex, oral sex, just good ol’ fashioned smut perhaps with minimal dirty talk. nothing depraved (yet). please be sure that you are 18+ to read! word count: 12.4k

author’s notes: i literally have nothing to say like . i just wanted to post something that would gain me access into the 18+ section of the nctzen library i guess :^) this is once again an edited fic, but it is pretty unbeta’d, so i’d love for anyone to point out any mistakes they see! since this has explicit content, please do not read this unless you are of age! honesty is the best policy, everyone. :^) enjoy !

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You know you’re done for the moment the sky opens up and starts raining.

You can’t even get off the field and run from the rain because it’s all a part of the whole cheerleading gig; if the playing team’s on the field, then you have to be, too.

Sometimes, you think that there are more drawbacks to being in this position. For one, it’s completely risk-heavy; you can’t remember a game where someone didn’t at least obtain a sprain or slip on the mud in front of five hundred people while trying to still look like everything’s fine. Pile on other issues, like having to cut back hours of free time in a week to practice, having to constantly fit and refit uniforms that you also have to shell out your own money for (because what else is the university’s budget for if not to pay for a yet another science lab?), and dealing with slightly catty teammates because on no particular day of the month is the entire team period-free, and you almost have a deal ready to be broken.

Just almost, though.

Possibly the only perk that beats all those downsides is the fact that you have free access to the football team and all their practices and games. Most days, you think it’s actually worth it to risk breaking your neck coming down from a human pyramid (or, worse, being the base of one, which requires the kind of upper body strength you don’t think you have a lot of in you) if you get to at least see eleven cute guys jogging around the perimeter of the field they share with your team for practice.

Oh, and, yeah, even if you had to pay for the cheerleading uniforms, they were kind of cute, in all honesty.

You look up as the first droplets fall on your head, and you can see the collective grimace that sweeps over the cheerleading team; one girl even stamps her feet and yells something about her not wearing waterproof mascara just as the rain mixes with the crowd’s cheers when it starts to intensify. It quickly forms a thick curtain, and you lift a hand up to your forehead to shield your eyes as you scan the field in front of you. Everything is just a blur of white and blue sometimes interrupted by the droplets that hang off your eyelashes, but you keep looking anyway. It shouldn’t be that hard to spot him because he’s fairly tall in his own right, you think, except it’s hard because so is everyone else — perhaps even more so — and he’s probably being eclipsed by all these jacked up guys from the visiting team.

You get called out of your search temporarily when the cheerleading captain plucks on your sleeve and tells you you’re all going to do one more routine; in that time, all you can do is think about not slipping on the mud that’s slowly deepening under your feet. Even your fucking pom-poms are a saggy mess.

The only time you manage to see him is when the referee’s whistle blows for a time out, and the teams troop back, somewhat sluggishly, to their benches. He always walks at the back of the line, like he’s careful to not get crushed between his teammates, even though they always tell him to walk with them. He glances up at the scoreboard; there’s two minutes of play left, and your home team is ahead by a mile, so he could sit pretty for the rest of the game and they’d probably still win.

In all honesty, no one had ever thought Mark would make the football team. Not even Donghyuck, his freshman roommate, who, in his own weird way, idolizes Mark (at times, to a fault). Not even you, his best friend, who had criticized him for never being active in any kind of extracurricular activity ever since you had met in your first year of high school. And especially not Mark himself, who had, in an attempt to get you off his back about being a hermit, tried out for college football just so that he could prove that he would never make it and would never fit in a team, anyway.

Except for some strange reason, he had. Inexplicably, he had even placed on the actual starting team instead of the reserve, like you and Donghyuck had initially guessed when he’d come home, slightly starstruck, with a jersey in his hand. You thought it was a joke — even though Mark rarely makes any of those in the first place — until he announced that he’d placed as a free safety and would be starting practice that coming Thursday.

You’d thought it was a joke even when Thursday came along, convinced he was just trying to one up you and get you to admit maybe it’s not a big deal if he’s essentially disconnected from the rest of society, until you actually saw him come out of the locker rooms and start doing laps with the rest of the team. At that point, something just… snapped.

Sure, Mark has always been attractive to you, in that kind of boy next door with the nice skin and the naturally casual laid-backness so many people try so hard to achieve, and a part of you has always been pretty aware of how appealing he was. You’d been pretty good at repressing it, though; only Donghyuck had slowly cottoned on over time, mostly because he refused to make friends with classmates he would only spend one semester with, which led him to tagging along on yours and Mark’s trips to the library (which he hates) as well as your trips to unlimited refill barbecue restaurants (which he loves).

(Sometimes he hangs out with some other freshman kid named Renjun, whom neither you nor Mark have ever seen, but Mark swears he exists because he sometimes finds that his bed seems to have been slept in on days that Donghyuck is much more vocal about how cool he thinks Mark is.)

“Why don’t you just tell Mark hyung that you like him?” Donghyuck had once asked when you’d both been sitting on the frontmost bleacher, waiting for Mark to finish a particularly long and seemingly grueling weekend practice. “You know it’s not like he’s going to think any less of you. Also, it would be better if you just ended up honest with him before he catches your dried up drool on your chin.”

You’d flicked him on the forehead, partly because he was sticking his nose into where it didn’t belong, but mostly because he was suggesting the one thing that would overturn the delicate internal balance you’d been carefully building up since the first day you’d met Mark.

Not that you’d never thought of it. You’d just been really, really good at talking yourself out of it, making excuses about how it’d probably just been your hormones telling you that you could stand to entertain a boyfriend or even a friend with benefits every once in a while. It had never really been about Mark, specifically.

Until now.

These days, you’re not so great at keeping yourself calm and collected at the thought of him. It’s the curse of being able to see him run across a field almost daily, his asscheeks tightening visibly when he lunges and the veins on his forearms bulging when he uses all his upper body strength to toss the ball. You’re thankful that cheerleading practice almost always winds up earlier than football practice because you can use the little gap between when you have to leave the field and when you have to see him again to do your homework together to take a cold shower or, when it’s really bad and your roommate isn’t around, to masturbate to the thought of him bending you over and pounding so deeply into you that you’re practically speaking in tongues.

And it’s never any one else’s face that you imagine looking up at during a blowjob. It’s always his.

You squint across the space between you and him, and even through the rain, your vision tunnels towards him. His shirt is soaked completely now, and it clings to his skin; you can see the deep curve of his spine and the definition of his right bicep even from here — proof that this football thing is really starting to shape his body in a way that is both frustrating and totally attractive to you. Behind the steady noise of the rain, you can’t help but give a slight whimper.

You’re not sure if it’s because you catch his eye or just because he feels like someone’s watching him, but he suddenly looks up at you, mirroring your expression and squinting through the rain. When he realizes he’s looking at you, the corners of his lips turn up into a small but genuine smile, and your heart skids dangerously, breaking its already fast rhythm. You respond with a bigger, goofier grin before you can stop yourself, and you see the whites of his teeth peek out as he laughs at your expression.

Damn you, Mark Lee. You gnash your teeth together as you turn away, but you’re really only chastising yourself. You hate that this is confusing. You hate that this situation is actually simple, but you’re too hesitant to do anything about it, so it becomes confusing. You hate that ever since Donghyuck had brought it up, you’ve been secretly planning out the ways you could just seduce him, and you also hate the slightly sick feeling that comes after those fantasies when you remind yourself that you’re being a hopeless pervert. You hate that the rain his making his pants just the slightest bit translucent, so you can see the outline of his cock just pushing against the fabric, and you almost want to scream because you really, really hate how much you wish he were fucking you with it at that exact moment.

Mostly, you hate that your body seems to be going through its whole mid-adolescent years sexual arousal phase all over again.

The referee’s whistle sounds through the air, and the team troops back onto the field and gets into position. Someone from the squad calls your name, and you walk stiffly over to join the routine again, trying to make excuses about how you’re wet from the rain and not from thinking too much about your best friend.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You’re drenched by the time the game comes to a close, the home team scoring an impressive 6-1, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about the cheering and hugging that’s occurring all around you. You had just seen Mark bend over to pick up a bottle of water and scoped two whole eyefuls of his substantial ass stretching the fabric of his pants, so, yeah, you kind of have to do something about it.

It isn’t as easy as it seems in your head, though. For one, he’s being blocked by people much, much larger than you, and they’re traveling in groups — the referee and the vice principal, three of his teammates carrying the team’s water cooler over to throw onto the coach (boys, seriously), and the two teams’ mascots walking side by side, their costumes absorbing all the rainfall. There’s also the problem of people holding you back, like Park Sooyoung, one of the juniors on the squad, hooking her finger into the back of your shirt and dragging you backwards to shout very loudly into your ear that most of the girls were going to go to a McDonald’s with some of the players right now. You try to shake her off with weak excuses, but her grip is unnaturally strong.

“There still might be room in Jeno’s car, if you want to join,” she yells over the rain that’s practically torrential at this stage.

“No thanks,” you shout back, although you have the decency to at least keep your mouth a few inches away from her ear canal. “Stuff to do. Gotta shower, and all. And… Homework,” you add lamely when she gives you a disbelieving look.

“You can do it when we get back! Jeno’s car has a heater anyway. Aren’t you hungry?”

Hungry? No. Thirsty? Yes. But not in the physiologically necessary sense.

You manage to get her to cotton on that you have no intention of tagging along after a couple more refusals, making sure she zips off across the field with the rest of the squad before turning your attention back to Mark.

Who is no longer where he had been five minutes ago.

The weighty feeling of regret at a missed opportunity settles in your stomach as you spot him across the field now, nothing but a tiny white and blue dot disappearing into the boys’ locker room. The feeling is only alleviated slightly by you telling yourself that you didn’t even really have a plan anyway, so it was better that he’d disappeared before you got the chance to embarrass yourself.

The rain stops overhead suddenly; you look up to see a familiar baby blue umbrella covering you, and you let out a small sigh of relief.

“I thought you went back to the dorms already.”

“I almost did, but I saw you standing like a dumbass out here,” Donghyuck laughs. “You could just ask someone to sneeze on you if you really want to catch a cold.”

“What I really want is a hot shower and a snack,” you respond.

“I saw your teammates leave with Lee Jeno like three minutes ago. Why didn’t you go with them? I thought people liked you on that team,” he teases. You whack him in the face with a ruined, soggy pom-pom, but you don’t dignify his question with an answer. He spits out a piece of the paper that had stuck to his tongue on impact. "Oh, I see. Distracted by external elements? More specifically, external elements on Mark hyung’s body?“

"There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t wish you had a mute button.”

“My mom couldn’t afford the down payment for it,” he shrugs. “You know, I could always mention it to him if you’re too chicken —”

“I will never forgive you if you do that,” you cut him off. “Never. I will strangle you before I strangle myself if you tell him.”

“So you tell him,” Donghyuck snaps. “All you ever do is moon over him now. Just get laid so that we can go back to eating breakfast for dinner every Thursday instead of you never showing up or backing out at the last minute because you’re too worried seeing him eat pancakes will trigger hyperrealistic fantasies of him eating you out.”

“I don’t think that way!” You yell, but you’re glad that he’s not really looking at you, so he doesn’t see the flush that spreads like wildfire across your face.

“Fine; I won’t tell. But you have to soon. I can’t stand being in the middle of all this awkward atmosphere you’re suddenly creating. Plus, he keeps asking me if I’ve talked to you recently.” He shoots you a meaningful look that you ignore. “It’s not like he’s stupid. He thinks you’re avoiding him because you suddenly hate him, or something.”

“I’m trying to fix that,” you frown.

“Fix it faster,” he nags, and you smack the pom-pom into his face again. It’s satisfying to see how little bits of wet paper stick to his nose.

Donghyuck walks you to the locker rooms, overestimating the capacity of his umbrella by saying he’ll wait for you and Mark to come out so you can all head back to the dorms together. You try not to read too into the fact that he’s essentially forcing you to live through another fifteen minutes of wading through one-sided sexual tension and troop yourself into the locker room while he strolls off to the nearest waiting shed. It’s odd that you can’t hear any water running, and no one seems to even be inside. You figure everyone’s out making a mess out of the nearest McDonald’s until you turn on one of the showers and realize that there’s no hot water in the stall you’re in. And in the next one. And in the next one. Or the one after that.

You groan in frustration, now acutely aware of how sticky and heavy your uniform feels against your skin. You could always just shower at the dorm, but that just means staying and walking around in this state longer, which doesn’t feel like a very comfortable option. You could also just brave the cold, but in this weather, it doesn’t sound like a healthy idea.

Of course, there is one other way.

You weigh out your options briefly, but it’s not like there’s any better and more immediate choice. You gather your spare clothes and quickly exit the girls’ locker room, your hand over your mouth as though your breathing is going to be too loud and give you away.

The distance between the girls’ locker room and the boys’ locker room is less than ten steps, but because you’re trying to be unbelievably careful, the tiptoe over to its entrance feels like a mile-long and extremely stressful endeavor. You bump into one of the members, Jung Jaehyun, right as you’re about to enter, but he at least doesn’t seem to notice how guilty you’re looking, or the fact that you have a towel and a shampoo bottle in your arms.

“Hey, _______________,” he greets you, shaking the remaining water out of his hair. “I thought you would have gone with Jeno and Doyoung. Most of the cheerleaders did.”

“I wanted to take a shower first,” you say lamely. You don’t add the in your locker room part.

“Same.” There’s steam forming a thin cloud around him as he stands in the doorway, so you’re at least assured your rule-breaking isn’t going to go to waste. “If you’re going to catch up, maybe you can invite Mark to come along with you. I asked him, but he said he was just going to go home and rest. He’s like a grandpa.”

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “He — is Mark in there? Still?”

“Yeah, he was talking to coach about something, so he’s still in there getting ready. Anyway, at least try to get him to tag along; it’s as much his victory as it is the rest of the team’s. Text me if you guys are both coming to McDonald’s later. I’ll save you seats.”

He gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking off; the rain has calmed into a light drizzle now, and you hear his jovial voice greet Donghyuck by the waiting shed, asking him if he wants to tag along for a burger.

This is… fine. It’s not a big deal. You really just want to shower. Except, you know, you’re not really sure how you’re going to explain yourself to Mark. Except, do you really have to? It’s just a shower. He’d understand. He… showers too, doesn’t he? Yeah. That’s good.

Even with this logic, you walk in carefully, trying to keep your steps as light and as quiet as possible. The rows of lockers in here somehow look longer and larger — male athlete privilege, you guess — but you’re grateful for the fact that maybe in this tiny labyrinth of lockers and benches, you can completely avoid Mark.

You almost do, too, right until your foot lands in a puddle and goes skidding so far you feel like your pelvis has snapped in half; with a squeak of surprise, you claw at the side of a locker row, making the loudest, most obnoxious set of sounds an accident could produce as you crumple to the floor, mildly shell-shocked.

“Who’s there?”

The voice is unmistakable, and you right yourself just in time for Mark to peek out from behind the set of lockers two rows down. His face morphs from initial alarm, to brief surprise, finally settling with confusion. You try your best to look as collected as possible, but it’s hard when you take the whole form of him in and notice that he’s already stripped off his shirt and remains only in his pants.

“Hey, um. Mark. Hey,” you force a smile out. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I was talking to coach,” he says in a small, slightly disbelieving voice. You don’t miss the once-over he gives your whole drowned rat aesthetic. “Sorry — what are you doing here, ____________?”

“I was, um—” you try to come up with something less stupid, but nothing sticks to you better than the truth, so you admit it anyway. “Just… wanted to take a shower here.”

“Oh… you know this… is the boys’ locker room,” he reminds you carefully, as if he’s trying not to hurt your feelings even if he’s essentially pointing out how stupid he thinks you are.

“I know. There’s no hot water in the girls’ locker room, so I thought… I thought I would just—“ you gesture around yourself, and Mark’s round eyes follow the course of your left hand.

“Right.”

“It would be really great if you didn’t tell anyone,” you add.

“I won’t. It’s just me in here, anyway.”

A terrible silence passes between you two. You can see the gooseflesh forming on his arms and shoulders from being exposed to the chill for too long. You’re acutely aware of how loud the sound of your heavy, wet skirt is when you shift your weight from foot to foot, and he’s watching you carefully, with this sort of strange, glazed-over look that you can’t read. You both open your mouth at the same time to speak.

“Have you been avoi—”

“Great game, by th—”

You stop at the same time too, and you share a nervous laugh. At this, the tension in his shoulders goes away, even though he does look slightly uncomfortable standing half-naked in front of you. He gestures for you to keep talking.

“You played great, was what I wanted to say,” you rub at your arm. “I know Donghyuck and I weren’t serious about it at first, but you really play like you belong out there.”

“Oh — thanks,” for some reason, even if it’s a compliment, he looks mildly disappointed. “It’s really just practice.”

“I know that you practiced hard, but I also think you play pretty naturally. And you run… well, too.” You avoided a bullet by biting your tongue down and keeping it from saying something about how good he looks running.

“Thank you.” He folds his arms across his chest, keeping out the cold as much as he can. “Do — have you been, you know, avoiding me?” You shake your head, but he continues to elaborate. “I can quit, you know, if you don’t like it — me being on the football team. If it’s taking up too much time that we can’t even hang out after, I don’t really want that to be the reason for us to just fall out. I already talked to coach about it, and he said—”

“Mark,” you speak over him, a little alarmed. “I don’t — of course I don’t want you to quit.”

“Oh.” He looks slightly relieved. “But, then, you’ve been—”

“Yeah, I know I’ve been missing in action,” you lick your lips nervously. “It’s just personal stuff, but like, not the serious kind? Don’t — I mean, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I thought maybe you hated that I was on the team now,” he goes on.

“It’s not that. I love that you’re on the team.” More than you know. “I’m sorry; I’ll be better. We can do breakfast for dinner on Thursdays again, like we used to.”

He stares at you, like he’s unsure of how to phrase his next thought into a meaningful sentence, so he just nods and settles with a shorter, “Donghyuck will like that.”

The next silence kills you as the desire to explain yourself bubbles up again, but the dying purity inside you causes you to swallow it back. Mark is the first to break the silence this time, without any interruption from you.

“I should really go take a shower.”

“Oh — yeah, me too,” you gesture vaguely to the exit with your thumb. “Donghyuck’s waiting for us.”

“Better not keep him standing out there in the rain, then,” he points jerkily to the next row of lockers. “You can just change there. Or wherever else. I’ll be in the shower anyway.”

You nod your thanks, not trusting yourself to speak clearly anymore, opting to shuffle to where he’d indicated. You’re all alone on this side of the lockers, but you can hear Mark moving about, a locker door opening and closing as he gets his things ready. You have to keep reminding yourself to stay on target instead of listening in like some creepy maniac, but you pause, swallowing thickly as you hear the tell-tale sound of wet fabric hitting the concrete floor, and you know that’s him taking off the last article of clothing he has on.

You think that this experience can’t be good for your mental health, but it doesn’t even matter because your mind is so invested in the idea that Mark’s bare body is less than four feet away from you that it can’t think about its slow, inevitable death.

The sound of a shower curtain being pulled close followed by water running signals that Mark is in the shower. You peel off the rest of your clothes, and hold your towel close to your chest as you walk over to the stalls. The one that he’s occupying falls right under the ceiling light, so you can see his blurry silhouette move through the fairly thin curtain. Your throat is dry, and you want to walk past it to get to the next stall, but you stop right in front of it, weirdly mesmerized by his form.

“Mark,” you say before you can stop yourself. You see him stop and listen, one hand still in his hair, frozen in the act of shampooing. His head turns, and you can tell he knows you’re standing right outside the stall, mere inches away from him.

“Yeah?” His voice sounds different — maybe higher and a little more frail, although you assume it’s just the steam affecting his vocal chords, or whatever excuse your mind half-assedly churns out.

“I have been avoiding you,” you confess, doing that stupid shifting from foot to foot thing again. Something like a sigh escapes his lips, rising above the stall along with the steam.

“I knew it. Do you really not like me being in the team that much? You should have just said so. I told you, I can quit — really. Our friendship is more important than some sport I didn’t even know how to play six months ago.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you chew your lip. “It’s more that I like it so much I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What? Football?”

“No. You playing football.”

Something hits the floor inside — probably a bar of soap — and you see Mark fumble with it for a moment before straightening back up. He doesn’t say anything, though, so you press on.

“Ever since you started playing, I sort of felt like you were — I don’t know. Different? You look different for sure, but you act differently; you even walk differently. But not in a bad way. Like, in a good way. A really good way. And it’s distracting me a lot, so for my own, um, sake, I had to… take a step back.”

You feel like you’ve said everything you can at this point without giving extreme on-the-nose specifics or a terrible love confession, so there’s nothing for you to do except wait for a response. When it comes, it isn’t what you’re really expecting.

“Actually, I don’t think there’s any hot water in the other stalls either,” he says in a careful voice, so soft that it’s almost drowned out by the water.

“I can just shower after you,” you mutter in disappointment. The conversation seems over for a brief second until he replies with a much firmer voice.

“There won’t be any hot water after I shower.”

“I’ll just go to the dorms, then.”

“_____________,” he says your name in slow, deliberate syllables. “There won’t be any hot water there either. Trust me.“

You stare dully at his form through the shower curtain for what feels like forever until something dawns on you, and a mild shiver runs down your spine — not at the cold but at the thought of your interpretation being correct. Slowly, carefully, you toss your towel so that it hangs next to his on the metal rod on the shower curtain. You wait for him to protest, but all he does is make his silhouette grow slightly smaller as he steps back, and you take this as a good sign, pulling the shower curtain aside and quickly stepping into the stall before your nerve completely abandons you.

You’ve never seen Mark naked before. It’s not like you’ve tried before recently, but when you think about it now, you feel like your assumptions have slightly undersold him. He’s always been on the slightly lankier side (at least, in your opinion), and even with all the toning up he’s done, you don’t actually expect him to look this… good. His muscles are actually well-defined now that you can see the shadows they create under the light, and his body is extremely well-groomed.

His cock is slightly bigger than you’d initially imagined, too, probably because you’ve only ever guessed at its form through stolen glances. It’s as long as you’ve assumed, but its girth is strangely more than the football pants had let on. You wonder if it had always been like this or if he had grown into it over a span of, like, ten years, and then you feel like a pervert again for being more concerned with that more than the fact that your best friend is backed up against the wall, regarding you with wide eyes.

His lips are parted, and the water coming down from the shower catches on its curves and rolls down, creating a new dimension to them. It takes all of your self-restraint to stop yourself from kissing them at that exact moment.

Your gaze meets his, and nervousness overtakes your lust; you have to remind yourself that he wanted this too — invited you in — just so that you don’t make a run for it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever—” He swallows hard; the water on his lips make them look slick and irritatingly delicious. “Told you why I stayed on the team either.”

“Now’s a good time,” you say quietly, trying to be nonchalant, which is stupid, because your naked bodies are at most two feet away from each other.

“At first, I was thinking we could hang out more, since you were always caught up in practice during the afternoons. But recently, I—” Mark lets out a nervous chuckle. “When we take breaks, I watch you practice. I’ve never actually seen you; you look so pretty when you dance.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, feeling a blush crawl up your neck. “When have you ever said something like that to me?”

“What? You thought you were the only one brave enough to confess?” He laughs a little more easily. His back is off the wall now, body a little closer to yours. Whether this is intentional or not, you don’t know, and you don’t ask. “I was thinking… that I would pluck the courage to ask you out soon, but then it felt like you were ignoring me, and I worried, I guess?” He’s shifting from foot to foot now, too; the habit seems to be contagious. “I thought you didn’t like that I was on the football team.”

“I’ve always liked it. Maybe a little too much.”

He’s inches closer now; you think that this can’t be some random set of movements he’s unaware of. You’re also vividly aware of how hard his cock is, standing erect extremely close to your thigh.

“I’ve always liked you,” he murmurs. “Maybe a little too much.”

“You never acted like it,” you accuse him without real heat. He smiles, more to himself than anything.

“I didn’t really know until the first time I saw you out on the field,” he chuckles. “If you hadn’t said anything first, I might have taken it to the grave, too.”

“I guess I have to live up to being the pushier one in this friendship now and then.”

He laughs, a rich sound that causes a pleasant shiver to pass through your body. Mark notices the slight movement, and he reaches out, pausing in hesitation before taking your waist, his palms pressing against your flesh.

“We’re in the shower together,” he mumbles as if it’s the first time he’s noticing. “Two hours ago, I was worried you were going to stop being my friend.”

“We’re in the shower together,” you repeat, a small smile lifting your lips. Mark mirrors the action. “I think that fact kind of trumps your fears.”

It takes him a while to say anything, his fingers doing most of the work by trailing along your side, dipping into the curve of your waist and skimming over your hip. The steam curls up over the both of you, creating a thin veil that leaves his skin glowing. He only speaks up again when his hands place light pressure against your skin, and he draws closer with this anchor, his eyes traveling further down the landscape of your frame.

“I—” he lets out a nervous laugh. “I can’t believe — we must be breaking twenty school rules right now.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not really. It’s new to me, but — you know. It’s not that weird; not when it’s with you.” His eyes move up again, gaze meeting yours. “Do you?”

“Mind?” You laugh, and his smile widens at the sound. “Not at all. Not when the pay off is looking at you this way.”

He stops pulling himself closer until you’re almost nose to nose, and he replaces his hands with his arms, slowly winding them around your form. From this level of closeness, you can see the droplets of water forming on his eyelashes, dripping down the curve of his cupid’s bow.

“You said,” he tries again, his voice a little softer now — a whisper just for the both of you. “You said I was distracting you.”

“You were.”

“How?”

“I thought a lot about you,” your voice is level with his, almost drowned out by the sound of the shower spray.

“What did you think about?”

You hesitate. The situation at the present is well-established for sex, but you somehow still feel like you’re the only impure one in this stall. Mark is watching you, though, his expression somewhat expectant but mostly genuinely curious. You decide to go the gradually honest route.

“At first, I just… thought a lot about how different you were on the field. You’re more confident; you’re more… alive, I guess?” You laugh at your poor choice of words. “I was surprised, but I liked it a lot. But, um — more recently, you’ve been playing a more active role in the fiction-generated part of my train of thought.”

“Like how?”

You check his expression, and nothing has changed, except maybe his eyes have grown slightly wider.

“I think about… us,” you admit, suddenly refusing to meet his gaze for the rest of your spiel. “I thought a lot about situations where I’d get to see you like this. Where I would get to touch you and taste you.”

You’re so close to him now, wound up in his figure that you feel the shiver run through his body. He clears his throat. “Do I get to touch and taste you in any of those distracting thoughts, too?”

Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out, and he looks… amused now. Slightly nervous, but there’s a small twinkle in his eye that is unmistakably mischievous. When you don’t respond, he plows on anyway.

“You’re not that special, ____________,” he teases breathily. Your eyes snap up to his again. His face is growing pink, but he doesn’t have any intention of stopping, clearly. “What? Like you’re the only one who’s allowed to think about us? I think about it, too. Sometimes I think about lying in bed with you. Other days, I think about making love to you. Most days, though…”

He sucks in a deep breath; you notice that his arms are shaking a little, like the act of saying so many things at once has drained him of a bulk of energy, but his grip around your waist only grows tighter, and his cock, pressed between your stomachs, twitches.

“Most days I just think about kissing you.”

“Well,” you say, a little hoarsely. “Great minds think alike.”

Mark laughs right before he presses his mouth against yours, cutting the sound off with your lips. You initially assume that it’s going to be brief, but he seems to decide that now is not really the time for elementary-school-style chasteness, opting to part his lips against yours quickly and flicking his tongue out against the seam of your lips. You eagerly respond in kind, coaxing his tongue into your mouth and allowing him to explore it, the wet muscle flicking against your palate and passing over the ridges of your teeth. It kind of tickles, actually, and you want to laugh, except that would ruin the moment you’ve worked so damn hard for, and you would never forgive yourself for that.

His hands are at your sides again, skimming up and down your skin with more fervor, and you return the favor by pressing your palm against his chest, fingers tracing long, slow lines down his chest, one digit catching on his nipple. You’d say something about how cute the consequent shiver is, but you’re currently rubbing your tongue against his eagerly, so you don’t really get to. There’s no other word to encompass Mark’s taste; it’s just clean — fresh, a little bit minty, maybe, and sharp in the most pleasant of ways. A moan passes between you, and you’re not sure who the source is, but it causes your lips to vibrate against his.

Both of you are under the spray of the shower now, the warm water constantly running between your lips, and your hand follows the liquid trail downwards, stopping just above the base of his cock. Mark stiffens, and for a brief moment of panic, you think maybe you’re acting too fast. The fear dissipates just as quickly as it comes when his lips mouth against yours more eagerly, his teeth digging into the flesh of your bottom lip. You let out a soft whine, and he pulls away, his face suddenly morphing into unparalleled concern.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry.”

“No,” your fingers, acting on the unspoken green light, wrap around his shaft, and you can see him trying extremely hard not to drop his eyes and stare. A low huff escapes him. “I just wanted to do that to you first.”

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you really have the time to be competitive about this? Right now?”

“I guess not,” you admit. “I should probably focus on what I’m doing, anyway.”

His second laugh segues into a low moan as your hand begins to stroke his cock slowly; it’s almost weird how much more heightened your arousal is at the sound, coupled with the sight of his jaw going just a little bit slack, his eyelids dropping halfway. You’ve never seen Mark like this — in fact, you’re fairly certain no one has, and the thought of you being the first to witness pleasure on his face makes you feel maybe a little inappropriately emotional at a time like this. Luckily, the sounds he’s making are some you’re wholly willing to focus on instead.

He leans back in, and you’re prepared for another sweet kiss, but he dips his head, soft lips landing on your shoulder. His kisses are firmer this time, more audible against your skin, and he trails them along the curve of your shoulder inwards until he reaches the dip of your neck. Something that doesn’t feel like his lips presses against your skin there — it’s his tongue, you realize a little belatedly as he licks a slow, careful stripe up your neck, causing a soft, surprised moan to leave you, and the hum that rumbles in his throat as he kisses back down your neck leaves small, tingling patches against your skin.

You also think his mouth is content where it is, but it seems like Mark has a penchant for the unexpected that you’d never been fully aware of, because his lips trace a messy line even further down. When his hands come up your sides, they stop just above your stomach, and you feel his thumbs stretch out, tracing the lower curve of your breasts slowly. You’d planned on saying something — maybe to egg him on (the specifics hadn’t been laid out in your head yet) — but that plan flies out the window when he bends a little more, his lips tracing a small spiral around your nipple before he takes it between his lips.

“Holy shit.” The electric shock of his lips causes you to tighten your fingers slightly on his shaft, and your hand moves at a slightly quicker pace. You’re satisfied to hear the groan that sounds against your skin, even though this triumph is easily overwhelmed by the feeling of him sucking diligently — almost reverently — on your nipple, his hand cupped under your breast with just the right amount of pinch.

The stall is filled with steam now, but with it rises the frequent sounds of your moans and heavy breaths. The water beating down on you makes Mark’s cock interestingly slippery, letting you speed up your strokes with little friction or resistance. The result is amazing; while his head is still bent, lips pressed down on your skin as they move relentlessly against your nipple, you see his hips moving slightly against your hand. You try to push past the haze of pleasure his fingers and mouth on your body are creating and slow your hand to a stop. You’re absolutely fascinated by the fact that even though he makes a soft, slightly questioning noise, his hips are still rocking in minute motions against your hold. Not for the first time, you feel faint in the shower stall; you’d never imagined you’d see Mark fucking himself into your hand, but here you are, witnessing it in high definition, and it’s glorious.

It doesn’t last for long, but it’s still a good enough amount of time before he realizes you’re almost motionless, dazed by the sight. You almost miss his question entirely. “What’s wrong?”

“You,” your words come out breathless. “Are so hot. It’s not fair.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He chuckles softly. You meet his eye now that the mini show is over. He’s looking up at you, wide-eyed and amused, lips still unintentionally grazing against your nipple.

“Can we try something?” You ignore him entirely, but thanks to his general personality, he doesn’t complain; he just nods a little in response. No sooner has he pressed a tiny kiss to your nipple do you back him up against the shower stall’s wall, and he straightens his posture. Your plan is only slightly derailed when he reaches up, cradling your face and landing a brief kiss against your lips. He doesn’t say anything even as he watches you take a small step back before you carefully sink up to your knees or even when you place your palms flush against his thighs. The only time he actually starts asking questions again is when you brush your lips against the tip of his cock, to which he responds with a soft intake of breath.

“What’s the plan here, ___________?”

“I’m going to put your cock in my mouth,” you announce, and you don’t miss how his eyebrows lift slightly. “And you’re going to move your hips. Can we do that?”

“I don’t think I’m going to live through it,” he rasps. “I’m actually two seconds away from a heart attack.”

“Well, hold it in,” you laugh softly, but he doesn’t join in this time; you can tell he’s torn between keeping himself in check and just letting his desire take the reins entirely. He stares down at you, chest rising and falling a little more aggressively. “Come on. Please?”

“I’ve never done that. What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” you make the promise for him. “Just do it slowly. I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Please?”

“You know you’re being unfair. It’s really hard to say no when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like this. Kneeling down in front of me. You know. Begging me,” his hands curl into your hair, making more of a mess of it. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter than ever. “Okay. We can try.”

He doesn’t lead you closer like you think he will with his hold on your hair, so you take the initiative, parting your lips so that your tongue can flick out against the tip of the head. It elicits a shiver that visibly runs through his body, and that’s all the invitation you need to wrap your lips around his cock. His grip tightens minutely, and he looks down at you again, still somewhat concerned. You think it would be kind of stupid to just nod with part of a dick in your mouth, so you squeeze his thighs lightly. Luckily, Mark gets the signal, and with a soft, drawn-out exhale, he starts to move his hips shallowly.

It’s nothing extreme at this point, really; the tip doesn’t even hit the halfway point of your mouth, and he’s moving so carefully that a kid’s gait might outrun him at this rate, but the look on his face is exquisite. Mark in any angle is attractive, and you’ve long come to admit this, but you haven’t been able to decide on which angle is actually his best. You’d always assumed it was his profile, but the view you have now, with him looking down at you, gaze burning, his lips formed around an unspoken ‘o’ of pleasure, has trumped every other angle by a mile.

You still think that him being quiet isn’t so much what you wanted — in fact, the minutes you’ve spent in the shower have not only come to embolden you but have also sparked a weird, internal competitiveness that makes you want to push all of Mark’s buttons until you can find the one that makes him noisy. So far, you’ve gotten a few moans out of him, but nothing that feels satisfying. Even when you roll your tongue against the underside of his cock with every slow pump into your mouth, he doesn’t do much but hum or groan a little, brow furrowed in concentration. You want to egg him on, but you don’t know how, and you’re also not sure how far down his cock you can go before something unfortunate happens.

The solution presents itself when you focus a little less on Mark’s face and more on his cock; more than half of his length is exposed to hot air and water. Your right hand leaves his thigh as your left one gives his thigh another reassuring squeeze, and your fingers once again wrap around the now familiar shape of his shaft just as he rolls them forward.

Mark swears sparingly, especially since he tries to avoid situations that stress him out enough to get him to drop a bomb. For some reason, that just makes it more potent and extreme, like it’s a signal that indicates just how far something’s pushed him. It’s not surprising that you feel some kind of pride swell in your chest when the first out of a long string of fucks suddenly falls from his lips, hoarse and frustrated. His other hand joins the one already tangled in your hair, and there’s an uncharacteristic glassiness in his eyes as he rocks his hips forward with more intent.

“Fuck, ____________,” he slows his litany of curse words with your name, tongue peeking out to catch the water that’s pooled just above his upper lip. “Fuck, you look so hot. What the fuck.”

You can’t respond, so you make a pleased noise in the back of your throat that resonates down his shaft, and he tilts his head back at the feeling. His Adam’s apple bobs dangerously, like he’s swallowed down the rest of his obscenities, and you can’t see much of his face apart from his jawline, which has tensed into a sharp angle.

Your left hand finally leaves his thigh, assured that he won’t need any more guidance, and it finds its way between your legs. You’ve gotten off embarrassingly quickly by imagining Mark like this — moaning, erect, drowning in pleasure because of you — but now that it’s playing out in real time in front of you, you have all the content you could ask for and more. Your fingers find your clit, rubbing it with the same speed his hips are following, and while you haven’t had much practice with your subordinate hand, it doesn’t even matter; you’re so turned on that even half-assed masturbation could probably get you off easily at this point.

You actually think this is how it’s going to end — with Mark fucking into your hand and mouth until he cums, with you fingering yourself until you climax as well — but that fantasy comes to a disappointing halt when he stops moving his hips again, panting as he finally finds the strength to look back down at you. His hands lead your mouth back, easing your lips off his cock as he lets out a soft noise of relief.

“Why’d you stop?” Your mouth feels a little numb, so you stumble over your words somewhat.

“Wa — are you fingering yourself?” He asks, fascinated and now ignoring your question, drawing his head back in a vain attempt to get a better angle.

“You looked so good,” you state, like this should explain everything. “You tasted so good. Why did we stop?”

“As hot as that was, and it was really hot,” he chuckles. “I kind of feel like it’s unfair that you’re keeping your pussy to yourself.”

His voice and words make your chest clench so hard that you can’t even make a noise; your mouth just forms soundlessly around an incredulous oh my god. Mark’s thumb traces your lips as they move.

“Think you can still stand?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. Your calves and thighs had started burning a few minutes into this position, considering you’d spent a good part of the evening before running around and jumping. “If I can’t, will you kneel down with me?“

“Yeah. But let’s try getting you up first.” He takes both of your hands, and you use his hold as leverage, slowly getting to your feet. Your face is impossibly close to his, and his hands are back around your waist. You can see a streak of water slide down his nose, and you lean in to press your lips to the tip, stopping it in its tracks. Mark laughs again, a low rumble of a sound that comes from his chest. “You good?”

You nod, opting to to spend more of your energy on pressing a kiss to his lips again; he returns it without hesitation, but it only lasts very briefly. When he pulls away, you notice that he squeezes your hips a little tighter.

“Turn around,” His voice is still soft, but it’s lost whatever hesitation he’d had before this moment. You follow wordlessly, keeping yourself as close to his form as possible, and his hands never leave your waist, skimming over your stomach. Even if you hear him take a small step back to adjust, you can still feel his cock hard against you, settled between your asscheeks. You press your hips back against his, closing whatever tiny gap he may have made, and you hear him laugh quietly again.

The one regrettable thing about agreeing to turn around is that you can’t see him anymore; his hands move across your skin, rising and falling over the curve of your ass, but you can’t watch him do it without putting a lot of strain on your neck. You have to content yourself with imagining his expression as his fingers dig into your skin lightly, spreading your cheeks apart slightly. At least he makes a sound — a low, appreciative hum that gives you just enough to guess.

He shifts his stance, moving his cock downwards before his hands ease them between your legs; you feel his length pressed up against your folds, and he starts to rock his hips again in the same slow, controlled movements that seem almost trademark. You make the mistake of not keeping your volume in check as you let out a moan, feeling the tip rub against your clit.

Fingers crawl up your stomach, his hands briefly stopping at your chest to squeeze at your breasts. He keeps one hand in place while the other continues its journey, settling gently at the base of your neck. His forefinger stretches upward slightly to press against your lips.

“Someone could hear you.”

“We’re the only people left.”

“You don’t know who could be outside,” he sounds amused at your quick, nonchalant response.

“I don’t think they can hear us from outside. Even if they did, they wouldn’t know who’s in here,” you pause before smiling against his finger. “Unless you want them to.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I can be a little more specific, if that turns you on.”

Mark falls silent, clearly trying to decide how to proceed. His finger traces the shape of your lips before falling lax in front of them, and you take this opportunity to flick your tongue out against it.

You expect him to retract his hand, or something, but you don’t expect his hips to jerk forward a little in surprise, and you let out an even louder moan as his cock skims against your folds. Your thighs close a little more deliberately, adding to the friction.

“Jesus.” His voice is thick, distant, like he’s choked up on something. You can only imagine that he’s probably gritting his teeth, which is a sight you wish you could see, if you weren’t so intent on pushing this newfound button of his.

“Mark,” you breathe out. You feel his cock twitch between your legs. “I want you inside me.”

As soon as you finish your sentence, you part your lips, taking his finger into your mouth. There’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, and you waste no time in bringing your lips down to the knuckle, suckling languidly.

You hear him say something about a heart attack again, but he complies, pulling his hips back so he can align himself to your entrance. In your impatience, you push your hips back. Your moans harmonize as you feel him enter you, and he only waits a moment to collect himself before he’s slowly pushing in, his grip on your breast tightening a little. He’s careful, so careful, like he’s worried if he moves too suddenly you’ll freak out and leave. Reluctantly, you release his finger.

“More,” you murmur when he seems to be slowing to a stop. “I want all of you.”

“You need to relax or something. You’re so fucking tight. Holy shit.”

“You don’t have to act like I’m made of glass,” you laugh softly before letting out a noise of frustration as he actually stops halfway. “Mark.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. But also,” he exhales a little shakily. “This view is nice. Like, really nice.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been wet since I saw you shirtless outside,” you admit. He makes an amused sound. “Come on. I want to feel all of you stretch my pussy.”

“If you keep talking like this I’m just going to cum on the spot,” he warns. “Is this the kind of dialogue you’ve been imagining we’d have during sex?”

“Sort of.” You don’t even have it in you to sound sheepish; you’ve focused your attention on more pressing matters, like trying to push yourself further along his length. “You’re kind of nastier in my head though. But that’s probably my fault more than yours.”

“Okay, now that just makes me more curious.” His hands realign at your hips before moving backwards, and he spreads your asscheeks again, gripping your flesh a little more tightly as he inches himself forward. You finally let out a soft sigh of relief when you feel his hips flush against yours again, and your walls pulse around him. “Tell me what else you and I say in your head.”

“Why don’t you start moving,” you suggest. “And we’ll see what comes out of my mouth.”

He hums in assent before drawing his hips back and rolling them forward; the soft moan that comes from you is a signal for him to keep going. Mark thrusts in the same manner he seems to do everything in his life — cleanly, carefully, thoroughly. It feels good, but you can also tell he’s holding back, because his grip on your hips is unconventionally tight for his current pace.

It’s actually quiet apart from the intermittent sounds that pass between you; you actually think about saying something dirty, but you put that thought aside when it feels a little too sudden after a silence. You chew on your lip, trying to figure out how to get him to let loose without sounding way too demanding about it. It’s only when you think about Mark’s words — his heightened concern — that you start to pinpoint what the problem is.

“It’s not just about hurting me, is it?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re worried about something else.”

“Is it that transparent?” He chuckles softly, his hips slowing to a stop again. You decide to let it slide this time.

“You were fine before this,” you point out. “You even said—”

“I know, I know.”

“Do you not want to… anymore? It’s okay, you know. If you don’t,” you add quickly.

“Wha — no,” this time, it’s his voice that rises a little. “No, that’s not it at all. I’ve always wanted to — you have no idea how much I’ve…”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. A while ago, I was kind of in the heat of the moment, and you looked so… so hot, and it was all good, and then, just now, I just realized,” he laughs softly at nothing in particular, but it’s an embarrassed kind of laugh. “I might not live up to your expectations at all.”

You want to throw him a look of disbelief, but you can only turn your head so far sideways, so you can’t see his face fully. You settle with giving him a side eye that you hope translates just how absurd you think he’s being.

“Are you kidding?”

“I don’t want our first time to be disappointing for you,” he continues. “If you have standards, and I don’t meet them, won’t it be too awkward for us after?”

“I really want to look you in the eye right now, but since I like the fact that you’re still inside me while we’re having this conversation, you’re just going to have to imagine me looking a little sternly but affectionately at you,” you instruct, and he snorts softly. “Mark, the one and only standard I have for any fantasy I’ve ever had is that you’re part of it. Since you’re here, I think we can call this a win.”

“So after this…?”

“After this, we’re going to take Donghyuck out for a late dinner, and if we still have the energy after that, you’re going to tell him to sleep in Renjun’s room so I can come over and ride you, or something.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he hums approvingly. “I guess I could roll with that, then.”

“So stop holding back,” you groan. He chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, the act of him nodding causing his lips to brush against your skin. This time, without your prompting, he starts to move his hips again, pulling them back and rolling them back forward with more resolution. “Fuck. Okay, this, I’m on board for.”

His breath cools against your skin as he laughs silently, but it doesn’t last long; he focuses more of his energy on his movements, and you can hear a low groan echo from the back of his throat. His palms move to press against your stomach lightly, but one of them slides further downward. You feel his fingers press against your clit, rubbing it in intense circles that match his pace. You moan low, feeling yourself tighten around him again.

“I guess shower sex has that whole keeping you super wet perk.”

“Nope,” your voice is higher than usual, but it isn’t cracking yet, at least. “That’s all you.”

“Yeah, I kind of just wanted to hear you say it,” he chuckles. Your admission of it seems to renew his confidence, and his thrusts grow sharper, his two fingers spreading your folds so he can rub the middle one along your slit, having it brush against your clit with every upward stroke. You can’t help but squirm a little at the stimulation, but he keeps you firmly in the embrace of his other arm.

“You like hearing how wet you make me?”

“It’s suddenly become my new favorite topic.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it up at every appropriate time,” you promise. “Like when you’re balls deep in me, or something.”

“Great plan,” his voice sounds a little short, but your assumption is just that he’s trying to conserve his breath now that he’s giving it his all. Now that he’s not burdened with irrational worries, he’s fallen into the delicious pattern of drawing his hips back almost until he’s out of you before snapping his hips forward, burying himself back into you until the base. The feeling of being filled doesn’t turn you on as much as the idea of him being the one who’s filling you, and your moans increase in pitch and volume with every thrust. He doesn’t even try to shush you anymore; in fact, you feel like it’s sort of driving him, considering that he seems to move his hips more intensely whenever you moan his name, prolonging the last syllable.

The hot water is starting to run out; you feel even more goosebumps on your back and shoulder as the water starts to cool down. Your teeth are digging hard into your bottom lip because you’re desperately trying to hold back the fact that you’ve been humiliatingly close to cumming since you’d felt his cock against your clit, but you can feel yourself pulsing around him dangerously. Just when you’re about to confess, though, he suddenly pushes his hips harder into you, suddenly stopping with a low groan.

“Mark —“

“Don’t be mad,” he mutters, his voice dangerously low. “But I’ve been holding myself back since you gave me that blowjob.”

“Technically, you fucked my mouth —“

“Yeah, whatever, that really hot thing you did that almost made me blow a load,” he snaps. You feel his cock throb inside you, and you mewl.

“I’m really fucking close too,” you admit, and he doesn’t skip a single beat. His hips jerk up, allowing him to grind his cock into you for one intense second as he pulls your back flush hard against his chest. He buries his face into your shoulder, and you can feel his short, labored breathing as he pumps into you.

You can’t even form coherent sentences to keep egging him on, so you’re just stammering at this point, switching between Mark and so close and a string of obscenities that heightens in volume when you feel yourself tighten right before you reach your peak. Even when your shoulders tense and you fall into a blissful silence in your climax, Mark doesn’t stop, diligently fucking into you in his determination to keep you riding your high. It doesn’t end when you come back down, either, and you’re a whimpering mess in his arms, nails digging into his forearms and repeatedly moaning out how much you want to see him cum.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, and his voice breaks uncharacteristically; he’s close, but he’s still going, his thrusts growing erratic and sharp. “Fuck, _____________.”

“Mark,” you whine, neediness thick in your voice. “Let me blow you again.”

“You feel so good, though,” he whispers reluctantly. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Mark—”

“Shit, I know,” he groans, easing you away. You turn to look at him, and the sight makes your knees weak; his brow is furrowed, and his hand on his cock, stroking it haphazardly. His lips are parted slightly, and he’s staring at you with a burning desire that somehow makes you wish you hadn’t asked him to pull out. You’re so entranced by how he looks that you almost forget why you’d turned around in the first place, and it’s his low, drawn-out moan that snaps you back into focus.

Getting back on your knees, you tug his hand away; it falls back to his side as you replace it with your own hand, stroking his length at a quicker pace. You can see him threatening to tilt backwards, and you call his attention before it can tip all the way.

“Mark,” you breathe out. “Baby, look at me.”

He complies, slowly bending his head and squeezing his eyes shut for a second before opening them to gaze down at you. His pupils are blown out, and water caught on his lips drips down onto your hand and face.

“Tell me where you want to cum.”

“Shit,” he looks dazed; the fact that you’re squeezing him probably isn’t helping. “I — I don’t know.”

“Do you want to cum in my mouth?”

“Oh my god.” He squeezes his eyes shut again. “Fuck. Fuck yes, yes.”

“Look at me when you do,” you press. “I want you to see your cum all over my lips.”

He looks positively overwhelmed at this point, but he opens his eyes again, fixing his stare on your lips, which have parted to kiss his tip. Your tongue peeks out, pressing flat against the underside of his cock as you continue to stroke him, trying to coax him into climaxing.

He starts to rock his hips again, but instead of intensifying his thrusts, he suddenly tenses; his cock twitches against your hold, and you feel the heat of his cum spill onto your tongue and stain your lips. You can tell he really wants to keep his voice down, but he can’t control the long groan that leaves him. Mark’s expression is something straight out of the million fantasies you’ve had, with him unconsciously licking his lips at the same time you lick your own clean. He stands in slightly dumbfounded silence, not breaking eye contact as he watches you swallow.

He doesn’t even say anything as he helps you up, but he does gather you in his arms again. His embrace is tighter than before, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then finally your lips. His fingers glide down your back, resting naturally just above your ass.

“Holy shit,” he finally manages to cough out as he pulls away.

“For sure,” you agree, and you watch his lips curl up into a grin. “Never had a shower sex fantasy. Not sure why, but I guess I found out what I should have imagined.”

“These fantasies of yours — do you have, like, a list, or—?”

“Only up in here,” you point to your temple, and he pulls out a disappointed expression. “What does it matter?”

“Well, what kind of checklist am I supposed to make now?”

“You want a sex checklist? Can’t it just be spontaneous like this?”

“I’ll have to work on it.” He reaches behind you, taking the soap from the holder and pressing the flat of it against your back before rubbing it in gentle, circular motions. “It would be nice to have a guide, though, so I’m not repeating myself, or whatever. For example, we can’t have shower sex again tomorrow. That would just be lazy planning.”

“You don’t need a guide,” you say dismissively. “But I’m kind of into the fact that you already think we’re going to fuck again tomorrow.”

“Are we not?”

“We are. That’s why I’m into it.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you come out of the boys’ locker room, Donghyuck is standing by the door, arms folded across his chest. He’s visibly miffed and bursts into an enraged whisper when you step out, followed by Mark.

“You guys were in there for an hour! The janitor came and tried to lock the door. Thank god he said there was a ghost inside and he went to the chapel to get the priest. What took you so long?”

“There was only one shower,” Mark says simply. “The girls’ locker room didn’t have any hot water.”

“You take like ten minutes showering,” Donghyuck accuses him before turning to you. “And you hate long showers because they make your fingers wrinkly. Two showers back to back don’t equal an hour in there.”

“We didn’t take back to back showers,” you reply, equally monotone.

The three of you stand in silence, with Mark only moving to close the door behind him. Donghyuck points a slim finger at him, then at you, then at the door. Finally, it makes its way back to you, and his jaw drops a little as the pieces fall into place.

“You’re the ghost?”

“Hey, I wasn’t the only one making noise in there.”

“I wasn’t that loud,” Mark defends himself, hugging his jacket closer to his chest. Donghyuck shakes his closed umbrella, the droplets flying around.

“You guys made me stand out here and try to talk the janitor into getting a different mop while you had locker room sex?”

“Technically, it was shower sex. Locker room sex sounds too public,” you correct him, and he makes a disbelieving noise.

“Weren’t you the one pressuring me into admitting I had feelings for her?” Mark frowns, and Donghyuck freezes, his mouth still open from the words he had been about to say. Your eyes widen, and it’s your turn to point an accusing finger at him.

“You told Mark what?”

“He said I needed to confess or some other guy on the team would beat me to it.” Mark inhales sharply at his following realization. “There isn’t another guy on the team, is there?”

“Technically, we don’t know who has feelings for her on the team, so I might not have been lying so much as guessing with only little information,” Donghyuck sounds decidedly less hostile now. Mark rolls his eyes.

“You told me to just get laid!” You recall, and Donghyuck flinches.

“I didn’t mean right now in the damn showers while I waited for you out here for eons. I was thinking, like, one of you would confess, and then you’d go on a date later in the week, and if things go well then you’d kick me out of the room so you could bone, or something. It’s not my fault you guys made it sound like a scene from the exorcist in there.”

“We didn’t— okay, you know what?” You snatch his umbrella, and he lets it go without much resistance. “Let’s just go back. Come on, Mark.”

You open the umbrella, the remnants of the rain flying outwards as you do. Mark takes the handle from you, and you both march away, leaving Donghyuck behind in front of the boys’ locker room.

You’re halfway across the field when Mark speaks up in a low voice.

“We can’t leave him there.”

“I know. I’m just trying to spook him.”

You both stop, turning to face Donghyuck, who’s still by the locker rooms. He’s clearly watching you, though, because the moment he sees you looking at him, he makes a run for it, his long legs carrying him across the grass at top speed. He’s huffing when he arrives, and he throws his arms around the both of you so he can minimize the space he takes up under the umbrella.

When you reach the parking lot, Donghyuck speaks up.

“So, was it just one round in there, or what?”

#mark smut #mark lee smut #nct smut #mark x you #mark x reader #mark scenarios #mark scenario #mark imagines #mark imagine #mark drabble #mark drabbles #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct drabble #nct drabbles

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anon-sect · 4 months

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Bensen had long discovered at a young age that he had inherited a rare trait that was passed down his family line on his father's side of the family. It was the ability to transform objects or things into other objects or things. He experimented with it in the days of his youth. When his father found out he had it, he warned him not to use it on living things. He respected his father and his words all the way until he had graduated college. He had a high paying job that dis more than kept the bills paid up. But it wasn't satisfying enough. He wanted something that he could use his inherited ability. So he decided that he would do a part-time gig to make extra money on the side. He posted an advertisement with a fake name of Jack the handler. If there was anyone that needed to be handled or gone, call him. He even brought a separate phone just for his side hustle.

Bensen honestly didn't expect anyone to call, but someone actually called the number in the advertisement. A young woman had complained about her abusive boyfriend, who was both verbally and physically abusive with her. She tried reporting him, but he had connections on the police force. He would only be in jail one day and back into her life again. She really wanted him gone forever from her life. Bensen agreed to handle her abusive boyfriend problem at a cost, which she was willing to pay. She gave him the details of his whereabouts.

The next day, Bensen arrived in a back alley area behind a local restaurant. Just on cue, a young muscular guy about 6'1" tall was stepped out to take his break. He had never transformed a living thing before, so he was excited to do it for the first time. "Is your name Jesse?" He asked. He wanted to make sure he had the right target.

"Yeah, and who are you?" Jesse asked, curious that a stranger would ask for him in a back alley completely out of the ordinary.

"My client asks that you be removed from her life. All the abuse she had to endure the past year has to stop." Bensen spoke, getting ready to take his first human victim as he got closer to him.

Jesse knew exactly who his client was. "That bitch sent you, didn't she? Well, she will regret it when I get home." He spoke, seeing a smile of excitement on the stranger's face.

"You are mistaken. You won't be going home or back to work." Bensen paused as he thought about what he should make the guy become. The guy was a asshole to his girlfriend, may as well become something an ass sits on. "In fact, you are coming home with me." He added.

Jesse didn't know what to make of the stranger, but he definitely wasn't going home with a guy for some gay crap. "Get out of here before I beat your ass to a point your mom won't recognize you." He saw the threat was not working. He saw the stranger's eyes glow for a couple of seconds. Suddenly, he found himself completely immobilized with clothes on top of him. He didn't know exactly what happened, but even his body was different. It was flat and hollowed out.

Bensen fished out a pair of thong underwear from the pile of clothes on the ground. "Wow, it really did work. I can't wait to get home and wear you. You look comfortable." He stuff them in his front pants pocket and left the area before anyone else showed up. But he was too late. Two other employees were taking their break at the same time as well. He didn't anticipate this situation.

Jesse was mortified when he saw daylight again. The stranger was holding him in his hands. After hearing the words 'wear you', he knew exactly what happened. He was somehow transformed into an article of clothing. From the feel of his body, he hated his new form because he had the sinking feeling that he was underwear. He saw himself stuffed in the guy's pocket like property. He mentally cursed at the guy, but seeing that the guy didn't hear a single word.

Willie and Lesner walk out to see a pile of clothes on the ground and a stranger standing next to them. Both looked at the clothes on the ground and happened to see Jesse's name tag on top of them. Being not sure what was going on, Willie was about to question the stranger.

Bensen needed to flee the scene, but didn't want to leave behind witness. He thought of a pair of socks for the two guys in front of him and a small thin nameless rag for Jesse's clothes and shoes.

Willie saw the stranger's eyes glowing for two seconds, and everything changed in an instant. He found himself laying on the cold ground. He couldn't move his body. He tried screaming out for help, but found he had no voice. He heard large foot steps and saw the stranger picking him up off the ground. The stranger was now giant size. He then felt his body was empty on the inside, yet soft cotton on the outside.

Lesner panicked mentally when he realized he was no longer human. He wanted to call out for help as the stranger housted him in the air in his hand. He didn't like what was being said. It was like something out of a nightmare, yet while being awake.

"Awesome, new underwear and a pair of white socks. I see one of you is Willie, and the other is Lesner. Sorry about turning you into socks, but I can't leave behind witnesses. But at least I won't forget your names. I believe you two will make my feet really comfortable." Bensen spoke as he stuffed the socks in his other pocket and ran from the area before anyone else showed up. On the way home, he ran into a former bully from school. He couldn't resist the urge. He turned him into a shirt, grabbed him up, and came home.

Back at him, Bensen got undressed. He wanted so much to feel what it's like wearing a person as clothing.

Jesse saw one leg enter him and then the other. He curse so much it was driving him crazy as he was pulled upwards. His face impacted with the guy's dick and where his penis would have been being cramed up the guy's ass. He was in no way gay, but this was insane. He hated being worn by a guy. This was a nightmare beyondy anything he could have imagined.

Lesner felt a foot enter him. The fact that a human foot controlled all his motion sickended him. He was just a simple bystander, he didn't deserve to an object owned by another guy or even worn on the guy's body.

Willie on the other hand was in bliss. He had fantasy of what it would be like to be a sock. He even dreamt it before. It was his favorite dream he ever had. Now it was a complete reality. He didn't want it to end. In fact, he hoped the guy never turned him back to normal. He had already accepted the guy as his master.

Bensen loved how it felt to wear people as clothing. The surge of authority he had over his new clothes felt so good. He called his client's phone. "This is Jack the handler. Your abusive boyfriend won't be bothering you anymore. In fact, you will never see him again. I put him in a place where I am sure it's a living hell for him. I expect full payment." He spoke over the phone. Within in minutes, he got a text alert of a bank deposit. He was pleased. He made money using his gift while also gaining new clothes that are supposedly are so durable they last for a very long time. He would have to test that theory.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #sock transformation #underwear tranformation

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gatorbites-imagines · 5 months

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Request or just saying

One piece is so good but all I was thinking is how Law can be a bit of a brat sometimes especially when he runs off and gets his ass in trouble (I'm sorry I was dying of laughter when his ass got beat by the flamingo guy, I can not spell his name for the life of me). So imagine a bigger sly reader punishing him 🤤

Like reader is happy Law survived and he punishes him, nsfw or not

This could be a good fluff or smut type thing, I don't mind!!

Love your writing

Trafalgar Law x bigger male reader

Headcanons

The thing I love about one piece is that a request can say bigger reader, and I can make reader anywhere from a few inches taller than the other character, or make them 10 feet tall, and it would fit into the one piece universe.

Reader is 8 or 9 feet in this, cuz hehe, I love size difference.

You were the holder of a devilfruit, a zoan fruit more specifically, the tiger fruit. This granted you the power of any zoan fruit, and resulted in you having a striped pattern on your skin most days, as well as tiger ears and a tail flicking behind you, as that was most comfortable for you.

You had been a part of the heart pirates for a long time, and had been dating Law for a good chunk of that. You regularly used your tiger form to get him to sleep, transforming into a huge tiger and flopping down on top of him to keep him down.

He could easily use room to get away, but Law learns you’ll just follow him and keep it up. When you don’t turn into a tiger, youll still pick him up and keep him in your lap, making tiger noises in your chest as you rub your chin on the top of his head after knocking his hat off.

You end up having to pull him out of trouble a lot, at this point you are sure it’s the D in his name, as he attracts danger like a magnet. It leaves the hairs on your tail puffed up and frizzy, as you always feel the need to look out for him.

More than once you’ve had to swoop in, in tiger form, and chase off any enemy that’s too much, just to scoop Law up and carry him back to the Polar Tang as he pouts and grumbles like the brat he is.

People outside the crew can’t seem to believe you when you mutter about Law being a brat. Everyone on your crew knows it’s the truth, and he can get especially bratty with you at times when he wants to rile you up.

Law always gets this lazy but satisfied grin on his lips when he catches your tail wagging from side to side in annoyance, your teeth and claws sharper than normal as you try to suppress the urge to chase him down and punish him in one way or another.

Laws sacrificial ways have always left you feeling stressed, and after the fight with Doflamingo you want to rip all your fur out because you really felt like you were gonna lose your lover.

You thank Luffy and the strawhats for keeping him safe, even if you are also very bruised and bloodied from the fighting, before carrying Law back to the Polar Tang like you are used too, still transformed into the more Anthro looking form similar to the form Lucci takes, but a tiger instead.

The rest of the heart crew knows to give you space as you rumble deep in your chest, scolding Law as you stomp back towards the submarine, Law pouting as he lays in your arms with his arms crossed.

The wild thrashing of your tail and the twitching of your ears also tells your crew to find somewhere else to spend the night, or else they’re gonna be hearing their captains voice throughout the whole submarine.

Some of the strawhat crew seems to pick up whats up, whilst others don’t, so the ones in the know have a little laugh at Laws fate, but they leave you guys to it, since the celebrating will take a while anyways.

Law wont even look at you as you throw him into your bed, a bed big enough to feet all 9 feet of your height, his arms crossed as he stares at the wall like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You transform into your more human form, pacing back and forth at the bottom of the bed, growling and grumbling as you scold him, making sure to get your point across, till Law starts to feel bad for his behavior, at least somewhat.

His shoulders climb up to his ears and Law finally looks at you, his pout melted away into something a little softer and almost guilty. But it immediately melts away when you stop prowling and crawl up the bed towards him.

Instead, a glint appears in his eyes, that bratty satisfied grin like he has gotten just what he wanted from his behavior.

But, Law soon comes to regret that, as you take that expression as a challenge, and he soon finds himself thrown over your large bulky thighs, his pants pulled down to his knees as you spank him, making him count each strike.

In this situation, your much larger size is something Law curses, as your hand covers pretty much his entire ass as you lay into him, growling his wrongdoings at him, fangs flashing as striped fur licks up your arms and sideburns, your eyes flashing between human and those of a tiger.

Its only when he loses the ability to count and hes reduced to a blubbering moaning mess that you slow down, basking in the tears running down his face as he sobs and apologizes.

Its only after you find his cries and tears satisfactory that you pull his pants the rest of the way off and sit him up, pulling him into your lap. You have to lean down somewhat to kiss his forehead, but after such a spanking Law is so sweet and pliable.

He whimpers and shudders, face wet with tears and drool as he clings to your chest, hips lifted to not press his aching behind against your strong thighs. But the punishment has also left him aching somewhere else, his cock twitching and leaking as need burns up his spine.

You make sure to praise him and mumble how much you love him as you rub his back, comforting him through his tears until he’s calmed down enough for you to focus on something else, as the pain of the punishment lessens, and Laws lust grows.

When Law starts to whine and whimper for something else, you roll him onto his back, shucking off the rest of his clothes as you go.

Law gasps and shudders as his aching behind presses against the sheets, but his focus is quickly somewhere else as you start licking at his neck and torso, your tongue rough and sharp against his skin, your feline tongue leaving red strips across his skin from the sandpaper like texture.

Law tries to keep quiet, but with him already being so worked up from earlier, its easy to get him to wail and moan loud enough for it to fill the entire Polar Tang. Especially when your rough tongue brushes against the underside of his cock.

The first time you do that his back arches almost painfully, the noise the leaves him sounding almost tortured as he grips onto your hair, his throat burning from the intensity of his wail.

Law shudders and moans, what little shame that had been before bleeding out of his body as your large hands hold his hips down, your tongue carefully rolling against his sensitive length, never dragging or hurting too much. You rub it against him just enough for him to feel and for it to leave him shaking.

You rumble and purr as his blurry eyes fall shut, a tear running down his cheer as he lets out a soundless wail of pleasure, his entire body tensing and toes curling as white spurts leave his cock, splattering across the flat side of your tongue and across his torso.

As he goes limp you rub his hips and thighs, pulling your tongue away from his sensitive flesh to mutter praise and loving words to him as he pants and continues to moan softly.

Its only when you know he’s returned somewhat to himself that you crawl up the bed again. After laying down on your back, you pull him on top of you, letting him curl up in your arms for a bit. You’ll get up soon to get stuff to treat the bruises in a bit, but first you need to hold him as he shudders and grasps onto you, Law needing you to ground him.

You end up curling your tail around him, letting some fur appear on your torso so he can run his fingers across it in a grounding and comforting manner, a loving rumble leaving your throat and chest and leaving Law feeling tired but comfortable.

He may be bratty at times, but he’s your brat, and you’ll straighten him out when he needs it when you have too. It’s a process you both love more than you two will ever admit, and a process that annoys your crew at times, but that’s just what its like being part of the heart pirates at this point.

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scholastic-dragon · 1 year

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Hiii can i get a headcanon on how fast the bayverse turtle boys gain a crush on someone? Thank youu!

Oooo this is fun, I put the turtles in order from fast to slow!

Raphael

I know it's sounds surprising but I feel like raph is really easy when it comes to crushes

He just likes people

Like he's so fascinated by them, that when someone new comes around, he kinda gets attached

With crushes it's more physical stuff he's attracted too: your hair whether it be long or short. The color or your eyes. Any and all accessories you wear daily. Your height, are you super short or tall when compared to him?

Now, raph crushing is easy, but falling in love, that's when his walls go up

After about a month or so, when the friendship doesn't go anywhere or the person just doesn't have a fun personality, the crush kinda simmers away

But, if you prove to him that you value him as a friend, that's when you're in for it

If you stand up for him or his brothers in front of people that'll get you some extra Raphie points

If you can take his angry jabs and throw them right back at him, even more points

Then the physical stuff doesn't matter, he spends every moment learning everything he can about you

When this stage happens, he thinks it's just a strong crush, but no, it's the early stages of love <3

Donnie

(Look at his cute little smile in the picture!!!)

This might also be a shock, but Donnie is also very quick to get a crush

Well not quick, he's very picky when it comes to any possible romantic partner

He's a 'friends to lovers' kinda guy, ya know

But if you come down to the lair often, and always make a point to visit and check in with him, he'll start to get happy by your visits

If you bring him food or coffee (just the way he likes it) something clicks in his brain

Like the way you're taking care of him suddenly makes him realize how sweet and caring you are

How warm and bright your eyes are. How enviting your smile is. Have you always had those dimples on your cheeks?

Like Raph, if you show him how much he means to you and how much you value your friendship, it'll make his heart skip a beat

He'll be reserved with his feelings for quite a bit, scoping out your movements to see if they're just friendly or if it's something more

In the meantime, he's happy to just sit with you and learn all about you

Mikey

At a shocking third place we find Mikey

Now, you may think Mikey gets crushes easy, but no, no no no, those are not crushes and feelings, that's admiration

He admires humans, all humans, all traits, literally everything

In the first movie he had a bit of a "crush" on April, that was simply because she was new, she was a girl, and actually took the time to get to know him and his family

But that crush quickly went away before the second movie

Mikey admires people, but there are certain ones that catch his attention.

Your hobbies and your job are the most interesting things about you to Mikey, he thinks they say a lot about a person

If you share hobbies he'll try to do them with you, but if not he's happy to listen anyway or watch silently

And then if you show interest in his hobbies.....!!!!!!!

Very few people actually bother to get to know the real Mikey, the Mikey behind all the funny faces and jokes, but if you put in that effort, he's practically head over heels for you in that very moment

You have to show him that you care about who is his not what he is

Once you do that you're in

Leo

Hardest to impress and hardest to keep, Mr. Fearless himself

He's not very trusting of people, he can be a bit of a negative Nelly when it comes to new people

He constantly thinks everyone is out to get his family and is going to turn them in the second they get a chance

So if you manage to actually get past all those walls, now starts the friendship stage

It takes Leo a while to form romantic feelings so it's a slow burn

But when you show him how much you care for his family (maybe getting Splinter tea, or playing games with Mikey, or working out with Raph and helping Donnie clean up his lab) he'll start to let his walls down

He's a bit of a dumbass and won't try to make a move because he is scared shitless that he'll make you uncomfortable

But when your attention suddenly goes from his brothers to him, he's thrown through a loop

He already knows everything about you, and now he sees just how amazing you are

Show him how much he and his family means to you and you'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand

tags: @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @post-apocalyptic-daydream @happymoonangel @mysticboombox @sharpwindow @dilucsflame33 @strawberrycakeblog @sketch-and-write-lover

#I had so much fun writing this #gah i love these boys #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt imagine #tmnt imagines #tmnt headcannon #tmnt headcannons #tmnt x reader #it is my works #thanks for the ask!

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idontknowreallyidontcare · 5 months

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KÖNIG HC’S FOR MY KÖNIG GIRLS.

- I HC him as being definitely taller than your average man, but not his fanon height. Many people go with the narrative that he’s 6’10/2m 08cm’s, for what I understood this is a made up data, nowhere is it specified that he’s actually 6’10, so what I actually assign him is a height of 6’7, we know how Ghost is somewhere between 6’4/6’5 which it’s still pretty tall (1,89 cm), but we also know by comparing the models, that König is a bit taller, so I am kind of basing his height on this difference between him and Ghost. Also, knowing he could not be a sniper because of his height motivates me even more to think that he is indeed a guy bigger than your average. Again, it’s a personal HC, may or may not be shared, it’s not a canon attribute.

- As I already specified in some of my other posts, I view him as a clean individual, in a sense than he has a routine and will try to maintain it even on duty. Being at the barracks will not obstruct his routine, he washes his hair with shampoo and conditioner, he uses a particular face soap, made for his type of skin, and he uses body lotion instead of a bar of soap. It has to be said that he wasn’t always this organized, for example, thanks to you he got to buy the face wash that he now brings everywhere he goes, you kinda talked to him about using a bar of soap for all the body and explained to him how unhygienic was to use the same towel for face, body and cock/ass, because despite you being ‘clean’ after the shower, you’re still dragging bacteria form around your body onto your face and hair, overall you kinda motivated him to uplift his already good habits. He sometimes lets you do his skincare too, and when he remembers, he will actually put some face cream on. He’s still a bit fearful of coming as not very masculine, but you’re making him work on it, so he can accept that taking care of himself will never be a turn down for you, not when he’s already so hot for his age, he better maintain himself!

- Another critical point about our Köni is his age. We have a vague idea of how old he could be, many HC’ing him from 35 to late 40’s. My guess is he could be somewhere between 38 and 43, I do prefer him as a 39/40 years grandpa tho. Again, personal HC, do not take it as canon! I’d be happy honestly if they would reveal his age, probably because no matter what, I’d still simp even if he turned out to be 50 years lmaooooo.

- Yes, he does come from a village in the country side, but he did join military pretty young, so I HC him as being actually a pretty open minded individual. Remember he gets to work with technology every day, he knows what’s going on around the world, and him joining young actually was a benefit, because he got to form his own opinions in a place that welcomed every kind of human beings. He didn’t get to grow up from the hate he received at school so he kind of escaped a life where he could’ve easy became what we call an inc€l today. He grew some balls, got his priorities right. He was for sure subjected to some kind of morally wrong opinions that grew into him, that’s why you’re spending time on him, being patient and trying to explain to him many things he considered undeniable reality until he meet you. The classic ones are: males should not cry because only girls do, women can work but they would be better at home, men don’t pay attention to their physical appearance that’s for feminine boys, and many similar things. He’s slowly getting out of his habits, and you’re proud of him.

- Listen, people have mixed feelings about this one but imma say it, aside from shipping and all, König is not and will never be Homophobic. He does not have any problem with lgbt+ nor is he disturbed by couples openly showing affection in his presence. Early access to internet and a very religious family could have created the worst possible outcome for him, but he was never big into religion, already redeeming it a waste of time at a young age, but still attending church because of his mom. He knows some recruits are openly gay, he doesn’t see a problem nor does it bother him knowing he could be someone’s crush. Now I do HC him as completely straight, but again it’s MY way of imagining König, I still think that in an orgy or threesome with reader, if he trusts the other male part, he would not be against having their cocks in the same hole, rubbing against each other, or in general he would not be against having some skin to skin contact with another male because at the end he does it because it only benefits you.

- He is a perverted dog, not only because he is ‘old’ and has fucked young girls (not minors! He is not morally fucked up like that), or generally his sexual history is pretty normal for a man that age, he was just always eager to see, learn and search for what he felt was exciting to him. He had threesomes before us, he has sex, he did many things that gave him the skills and experience he’s been using on us, but yes overall I HC him as being the one that always had a porn journal under his pillow, he would even lend them around the barracks.

- He loves pussy. He eats it for HIS own pleasure okay? He would die between your legs. He cums only by eating you out. He gets drunk on pussy. Pussy is what he lives for. He’ll never die on field, living purely out of spite, because he’ll no! What do you mean he’s never gonna enjoy your pussy again if he dies! ABSOLUTELY NOT! He’ll get home, beaten, cut, stabbed, whatever, but he’ll be home to you, and he will lick your pussy for the rest of the night saying “this what’s keeping me alive honey”. And truth is you can’t deny it to him, because it’s so good, no matter the circumstances, it always brings him back home.

#cod x reader #cod #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader smut #konig call of duty #konig x reader

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quasitsqueeries · 4 months

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The Emperor wasn't 12 feet tall

I see this meme a lot in my Instagram feed and it really grinds my gears:

Not because it seems to be trying to shame a fictional antagonist for being "wrong" (although that really doesn't help), but because whoever made it seems to have missed that depictions of the Emperor as superhuman are meant to be Imperial Propaganda.

Now, I realise I'm going to be fighting an uphill battle here because there seem to be people working for Games Workshop and producing their media who also missed that memo, and for a while now the studio has started producing actual depictions of the Emperor, and some of those depections show him as 12 feet tall and immortal. This might be controversial but I think what this shows is that Games Workshop don't understand Games Workshop's source material.

Here's a picture of the Emperor from the original Rogue Trader rulebook.

Even this is obviously meant to be a propaganda image, but here he looks like just a regular guy in armour, he's about the same size as the people around him. Not a superhuman, just a guy with an excess of hubris.

There's this literary construct called the unreliable narrator. When I studied literature we were given this short story to read called Bartleby the Scrivener. It's told from the point of view of an employer about a clerk who was apparently really difficult to manage. The subtext is that the narrator is trying to manipulate the reader to make themself look good.

For a long time, that's what Warhammer 40,000 did, the Imperium was made out to be an unreliable narrator. Stories about the Imperium's "glorious past" were told through the haze of ten thousand years of unending war, by an ecclesiastical class with a vested interest in keeping Imperial citizens committed to feeding the war machine. To the Imperium, the Great Crusade and the Horus Heresy serve the function of myths, more than history. I've gone on before about how important heroic figures like Siegfried and Perseus and Prometheus were to the Nazis. The Imperium, being a fictional state that draws on the aesthetics and ideology of Fascism, uses the figures of the Emperor and Primarchs the same way.

Basically what I'm saying is that when Imperial sources state that these people were twelve feet tall and immortal and could, um, turn a giant ork into a lightbulb on a whim, it's not because they had these powers, but because they've been ascribed these powers by their priesthood, who have total control over the flow of information in this setting.

And I get that this is hard, because most people don't get taught this stuff, and often people are probably looking for escapism from their fiction and why would the book I'm reading lie to me? But I think it really makes the setting more interesting if you look at it this way.

Also, I realise that since 2006 there have been books around that describe the Emperor, and they do show him as superhuman, and I think those depictions are based on the writers misunderstanding the material they're working from. I guess Tolkien wrote the existence of The Hobbit into Middle Earth as the Red Book of Westmarch so I can tell myself that the Horus Heresy novels are meant to be in-universe Imperial propaganda.

ADDENDUM: I need to add this because I've been reading about Perpetuals, which is apparently what the Emperor is since the Horus Heresy series was published. Apparently these individuals are human mutants that are both immortal and invincible. I remember Mechanicum heavily implying that the Emperor and St. George are the same person. Here's the problem with that. There are two themes that I think are really important in Warhammer 40,000. One is the Emperor's hubris, the idea was that he was playing god, genetically engineering monstrosities in the form of the primarchs. In the Greek tragic mould, it's this hubris that leads to his downfall. This kind of loses its sting if he's just trying to recreate what what he already is.

The other theme is the Imperium's superstition. This one is really the core of 40K. The Imperium has taken the corpse of a man who tried to rule the galaxy, told themselves he's not dead, plugged the corpse into a machine that "regenerates" him, and founded an intolerant, violent and expansionist religion around this husk. This theme changes significantly if the Emperor actually was as powerful as the Ecclesiarchy makes him out to be, and actually isn't dead, and has somehow been regenerating for the last 10,000 years. There's a question here about what would make an entity worthy of worship, or being called a god, and I probably shouldn't get into it but this is my blog so I'm going to. It seems like there's an assumption among some writers that if something can be rationally explained then it's not a god, because gods ipso facto don't exist. They've incorporated nonexistence into their definition of gods. This is where you get the idea that the Chaos gods aren't gods, because the setting explains their existince "rationally" with its internal logic (nevermind that there's nothing rational about the warp). If there were gods in a rational sense, then our model of the universe would have to change to accomodate them. I think the upshot of this is basically that if what the Horus Heresy novels claim about the Emperor is true, then the Ecclesiarchy are right and he is a god within the logic of the setting. That doesn't justify the genocide and expansionism, but maybe it does justify the worship, and that's something that I think takes away from the setting.

#warhammer 40000 #horus heresy #emperor of mankind #games workshop #wargaming

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blu3-j · 11 months

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Welcome...Home..?

Overworked! GN! Reader x Welcome Home Crew

Chapter 2

Tw: none

The main character has woken up from drifting off to sleep while watching Welcome Home. Here's the twist (which isn't much of a twist for fanfiction like this, but regardless): the main character of Welcome Home, Wally Darling, talked directly to them! And now the reader must navigate through their morning when they find an unexpected surprise!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4

The first thing you woke up to was the blaring alarm on your phone. A jolt of energy washed over you as you bolted up from your seat.

Splash! Oh, no.

Looking down, your lap was now a mess. The cup of unfinished instant ramen now sat spilt on the couch.

"Oh, no, neighbor!" Next came the voice. That same, gentle, monotone voice you had gotten so familiar with.

The rest of the morning was a haze for you. Wally Darling, the puppet you had gotten to know a little about the night previous, was talking to you. Again. Which, at that point, didn't bother you as much as it did the first time. No, this time what caught you off guard, was that he was right there. In front of you. He wasn't as big as you, only merely shy of three feet. But he was there. Right there.

Another puppet walked up to Wally to see what the commotion was all about. Then another. A giant bird? And...a regular guy dressed in mailman attire. He was closer to a normal human height, you assumed only being about four feet tall. The bird cooed over you as she helped you up from the couch and brush off the excess instant ramen. Which by this point was long forgotten. "How did they get here? Who are they? Am I still dreaming? Am I dead? " The sound of dishes clanking together caught your attention and looking over, there was...a giant lanky puppet. Green, with multiple pairs of limbs. Wait, were those antennas?

In the corner of your eye, you saw two more puppets over by your bookshelf. A gray puppet was flipping through the various books, eventually settling on the one you had kept about butterflies from when you were a little kid. A second smaller one in a pink dress ran up to him with various trinkets in her hands, excitedly showing them to the other who merely glanced at them and mumbled a comment or two.

You heard two more voices back in the kitchen. Looking back over, there were two more strangers in your house that had originally gone unnoticed. One was a large blue dog that leaned against the counter. You assumed he was cracking jokes due to the green puppet's laughter while the dog occasionally passed over a dish or two to help the green puppet clean. The other was a smaller puppet that stood to the other side of the green puppet. A sun? A star, maybe? The smaller of the two was occasionally handed a dish to dry and put away while she walked around gallantly and ranted dramatically.

You were dumbfounded. Who were these people? How...how did they get here? How are they walking??? Speaking????

"Um...hello?" The mailman puppet called out to you and reached out for your arm while Wally tugged on your shirt to get your attention. You couldn't move. You could barely make a sound, only managing to get out a few struggling stammers that didn't even form a single coherent word. Feathers graced your back, and a wing reached over your shoulder to gently lead your head to look back at her.

"Oh, goodness, dear! Are you okay?" Her being a giant walking, talking, rainbow bird didn't help you clear your mind, but her gentle demeanor and caring eyes and tone did help you speak again, this time more clearly.

"...I...I think I need to sit down." It was barely more than a whisper, and the puppets worrying over you had to strain their ears to hear you. But they understood immediately and guided you to an empty clean chair. Wally climbed up onto your lap once you sat down.

"Neighbor, I know this is sudden...and maybe scary, but you're okay!" His felt hand reached for yours and he squeezed. "We don't know how we got here, either. The episode was just ending, and we all were going to go back to our houses, but then....then..." His voice trailed off. The orange puppet finished his explanation.

"We just woke up here, Ms./Mr./Mx." The puppet took off his cap to look at you more clearly. Was this even real? "We hope you don't mind us. We're still trying to find a way back to Home." The gray puppet walked over with a book in his hands, the smaller excitable puppet quick to latch onto him and follow.

"I take it you're Y/N L/N?" He closed the book as he walked over. The others glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he rolled his eyes and opened the book once again to the inside of the cover. On the inside wrote: "This book belongs to: Y/N L/N." You nodded lightly, and the mailman spoke up.

"Well, ain't that just?" He raised his hand to you and smiled. "I think it's right time we introduce ourselves to you. I'm Eddie Dear. Your local mailman!" He stood there and stared, waiting patiently for you to shake his hand. Your arm shook as you reached out your free hand and grasped his. He gladly shook your hands without a moment's glance and let go.

Another hummed and spoke up. The gray puppet again. "You're right, Eddie. If you're hopefully going to be our host while we look for a way back to Home, you should know your guests." He took a step forward, choosing not to attempt to shake your hand; the puppet with a dress continued to cling close to him, he spared no glance in her direction. She bounced with more excitement every step closer the pair got to you. For having fake eyes, her eyes almost appeared to sparkle, just like a regular human's. "I'm Frank Frankly, the neighborhood's most knowledgeable residen-" The smaller puppet cut Frank off.

"And I'm Julie Joyful! It's so amazing, fantastic, wonderful that I get to meet you!" She squealed out. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun! I have so many games we could play together! Oh, do you like gardening? I love gardening! Maybe we can do some gardening together sometime!" Julie rambled on without a single pause for you to get a word in. Frank had to put a hand to her shoulder for her to stop and realize she had gotten carried away. A quick apology was uttered from the excited puppet, still as eccentric as ever. Then, the nervous bird stepped into your view, holding her wings close to her chest as she smiled politely.

"I'm Poppy Partridge, dear. I do hope we aren't a bother to you." She stepped closer and brushed her wing over your bangs and held them up to get a better look at your eyes. You couldn't help but feel almost entranced by the puppets around you. This shouldn't be real. Your eyes widened, and despite that, you felt as though you couldn't see enough of your surroundings. Poppy gasped and her brows furrowed. "Oh, dear! You don't look well, dearie. Have you been getting enough sleep? Have you been eating enough?" She cooed and fretted over you as she held the side of your face with her wing. It was odd, but strangely comforting; like a mother's reassuring embrace. You remained silent and opted to stare at her. How is this real?

BRIIIIIIING~!

The sound of your phone caught your attention and out of habit you swiftly grabbed it up and turned off your alarm. You didn't have time for this.

"I...." You stared absentmindedly at the screen of your phone, looking back at the notification.

"Get ready for work!!" It read in bold letters.

"I...I need to get ready for work." Your voice was soft and unheard by the other puppets around you. Except for one.

"Okay," Wally gently piped up. "You can get ready for work, Y/N. We'll take care of things here for you." His smile widened and he squeezed your hand once more. "You take all the time you need. And when you're ready, we'll be waiting here for you, okay?" His dark eyes stared up into yours. That's when it all caved in for you. This was real. But you don't have time for this. Your face began to feel hot, your lip quivered...but you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath. Your eyes met his.

"Thanks, Wally."

"Of course, Y/N." He quickly moved out of your lap once you began moving to stand. Then you pretended things were normal again. You hurried to your room and grabbed a change of clothes, took a quick shower, and got your things organized in your bag. The thought of the living puppets in your house was shoved to the back of your mind. You don't have time for this. Hoisting the heavy bag onto your shoulder, you rushed to the front door.

"Wait!" A voice called out to you. Turning back, it was Poppy. "You're not leaving without breakfast, are you? And do you have lunch packed?" Was she really concerned for you?

A new voice called out to Poppy as the green puppet walked towards the two of you. He held out a small paper bag in one hand and a lunch container you had tried to use so long ago. You found you never had enough time or energy to pack it anymore. "It's alright, Poppy." He looked you in the eyes. "I know the tired eyes of a hard worker when I see one." He handed you the bag and container. "There wasn't much, but I made do. Here you go, shrimp. The bag has breakfast you can eat on the go, and the container has your lunch. Go get 'em, kiddo!" He ruffled your hair and smiled. You couldn't help but stare in awe at the tall puppet. But you don't have time for this. It took a moment, but you pushed the panic to the back of your mind and smiled.

"Thanks." You turned towards the door before looking back at them. "I guess I'll see you all...later..then." A pair of sparkling eyes shot your direction, and Julie jumped up from her spot on the floor, waving her arms up and down wildly.

"BYE, Y/N!!!" She squealed. The others were all quick to turn to you and wave with bright smiles. A chorus of goodbyes and farewell wishes followed you as you walked through the door. It almost made you laugh. You haven't felt like this in a long time. Happy. And not so...alone.

But you don't have time for this. You walked to your car and got in.

"Time for work."

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #wally darling #welcome home barnaby #welcome home frank #howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home howdy #welcome home julie #welcome home sally #welcome home eddie #welcome home x reader #welcome home fanfic #x reader #x y/n #welcome...home? fanfic

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mediocreanomaly · 9 months

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What if Vash finds out that his s/o is a werewolf and they are just a big dumb puppy with him but a very terrifying monster to others?

Authors Note: really eating up these creature request lately...you guys are just as bad as me huh? I know what you are~ (plus we had so much creature boys it's good to let the reader have some fun too)

Vash X Wer!Reader

•I'd say this is odd but Gunsmoke is odd. Whether it's from plants that walk around or priest that carry machine guns, a werewolf is just another thing to throw into the mix

•You had always been like this so it was hard to imagine your life any other way, which is why you led the life of a loner. I mean Gunsmoke has five moons it's hard not to be in wolf mode and it's even harder to explain, so you keep to yourself. Never straying far from motel rooms or barns to hide out in

•That is until a certain chaotic blonde crashes into your life....literately. You meet him when he crashes into you running from bounty hunters

•You end up saving his ass due to your abnormal reflexes pulling him to the side and your enhanced eyesight as you throw the two of you into an a dark ally that the bandits get lost in but you manage to navigate just fine

•When the two of you catch your breath Vash apologizes profusely for causing issues and swears he'll be out of your hair now but... for some reason he has a certain draw about him

•You don't really know what it is about him that screams "follow" to you but he just does. Maybe it's the dog in you but the urge to follow at his heels, to obey, to be good is embarrassingly strong so you just decide "fuck it" and offer to come along and although Vash is reluctant to drag anyone else around with his hectic life he enjoys the company

•You...actually manage to hide your wolfish side for awhile, now let's be clear Vash is more observant than he lets on he just doesn't ever guess "werewolf"

•You insist on sleeping in different rooms? Makes sense he's a stranger. Don't like being out when all five moons are up? must be a religious thing and he'll comply. You growl when someone gets too close to him? Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed

•He picks up on all your weird behaviors he just seems to guess wrong on what's causing them, often trying to get you donuts or let you go to bed early thinking your tired or hungry (or possibly upset with him?)

•The cat (or dog?) is out of the bag though when late one night your camp is raided by bandits. Usually you sleep in a tent a bit away from Vash as to not cause concern but when you see the bandits aim their guns at the man...you see red

•In an instant you're a terrifying snarling growling beast. Teeth bared protectively crouched over Vash, your wolf form is pretty large so you easily cover the man despite his tall lanky body. The bandits kick rocks quickly not wanting to be on the menu for tonight.

•Vash is a bit stunned and at first isn't 100% sure what's happening, he didn't see you come from the tent so he's a bit scared thinking you really are some monster, until you whine and lay your large head in his lap

•He freezes and very slowly and gently reaches out a hand to run through the fur on your head, when you whine and press closer to him he recognizes your eyes, the eyes he's been falling for since the day he met you

"..y-y/n? Is that you?" you confirm his question by wagging your tail slightly and your pointed ears perking up at your name

•The next morning you sheepishly explain yourself a bit more, tell him how it's always been this way, how you're pretty in control of it (unless all five moons are up but that's another story) and how you're really sorry you didn't tell him

•and to him? it's a relief. So you didn't hate him you were just fuzzy, he could deal with that...also now is probably a good time for him to tell you he isn't human either

•Just like that the two of you are fused at the hip. Both of you take turns asking each other different questions, you ask all about what it's like being a plant while he pesters you about being a werewolf, it's not the most conventional bonding but the two of you are no longer the most conventional pairing are you?

•You start getting more comfortable being in your wolf form around Vash too, Vash likes it a lot because he doesn't hold heat very well (it's a plant thing) but your body is like a furnace, so you curl around him at night to keep the two of you warm and safe from bandits and the cold

•You're also super lovable like this, Vash knows you'd never hurt him and it's almost therapeutic to run his fingers through your fur laughing when you lick at his face or nose him along with your large snout

•When the girls (and Wolfwood) join your group you go back to keeping it a secret not ready for a whole group of people to know about your monster form, not to mention there's a bit of protective instinct you have towards Vash so in your brain it gives you the upper hand if only Vash and you know

•but this plan also goes out the window similar to the way it did last time. Desperate times call for desperate measures and a crowd of Ja'Lai police so large even the punisher cant clear them dictates for a less that friendly appearance of your wolf form especially when one of their bullets hits Vash in the side

•If the time you took on the bandits was scary this is down right terrifying, you're pissed, Vash is bleeding and it's making the more animalistic side of you fume. You do your best not to kill (Vash would throw a fit) but lets just say a few of them aren't going to be policing anything else anytime soon

•Your muzzle is covered with blood from biting and your ears are pressed back as you growl, you look feral like nothing more than a wild animal out for blood

•The gang is...admittedly scared. Even Nicholas "Danger" Wolfwood is keeping a steady hand on the punisher incase things go south and trying to tally up how many vials he has in his pocket while Meryl tires to remember how your supposed to deal with feral animals. Play dead? no that was bears...run? that was stupid, maybe back away slowly?

•That being said when Vash lets out a sigh of relief and run towards you with open arms? Everyone's pretty sure blondie's lost his god damn mind, sure he was a martyr but he wasn't suicidal right?

•Further more when you go from something out of a horror movie to an over grown puppy the second you see Vash it's even more bewildering. Your eyes go big and your ears perk up as you crouch to make yourself look smaller and non threating happily nuzzling against Vashs torso

•He laughs and gently scolds you for being too rough with the enforcers but he knows when to pick his battles and counts the zero casualties as a win, you yip happily and gently nip at his hands as Vash laughs and pets you softly thanking you for keeping him safe

•You whine and nose at where he was shot and he promises you he'll get it cleaned up and that it's really not that bad while the others slowly relax. There would be a conversation to be had but...it seemed like you were harmless!

•Wolfwood struts over now that he realizes how soft you're being with the humanoid typhoon and once he gets close enough even extends an arm to pet you...only to be met with a snarl and a flash of teeth

•Wolfwood actually prays for the first time in a long time during that moment

•What can you say? Vash's blue eyes make you soft, but let's just say you got a bite that matches your bark

#vash x reader #vash x you #trigun x reader

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givemeonereason · 5 months

Text

Meditations: First Meeting

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Rating: cotton candy

Dragon Ball Masterlist Givemeonereason Masterlist

Plot: Can a green alien teach you to meditate? Or better yet, shut your mouth?

A/n: okay, okay, okay OKAY! Hear me out…I don’t see a lot of love for this green guy. I actually adore him as a character. He really grew on me while watching DB. I think he needs a little love and appreciation.

I think it has to do with the fact he doesn’t look like a regular human, and honestly I get it. But he could get it. And he should.

I will keep writing for him because Piccolo has such great fic potential that no one is utilizing.

Your lesson: we can’t judge books by their cover. It could just be the best book you’ve ever read ;) and that particular book might just be tall, handsome and green. You never know.

╒══════════════════════╕

Meditation.

This wasn’t something that you were particularly skilled at.

You tried a few times to do a guided meditation with that popular app that was complimentary thanks to your company on your lunch breaks. After several attempts you just gave up. The cricket sounds were relaxing though.

Such poise.

He sat on the hillside every day crosslegged, eyes closed, faced out towards the valley.

What exactly he was thinking about you could not have guessed.

Even if someone paid you one million Zeni to guess, you still wouldn’t have got it right.

He just seems so peaceful, his cape flowing in the light breeze.

Probably one of those basement rats who work on software towers. You thought to yourself. Makes sense he would try and catch some sun during his break.

“Umm, excuse me?”

Your hands nervously fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You’ve heard the rumors about the people downstairs, however you were curious. And walking up the hill to speak to him had your nerves all over the place.

“Hmm?” It was if he broke out of trance.

The man looked over his shoulder in your direction, putting his feet back down upon the grass when he saw you standing several feet away.

It was easier now to take in his full form. He was large and green. Such an odd appearance, you think. Nothing like anything you’ve seen before.

No sunlight…

It was a lot to take in at once. Your eyes glanced over him. You didn’t imagine he’d be this tall. He practically towered over you.

He blinked a few times before you spoke up. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I was just…” You voice trailed off as well as your courage. You turned on a heel to walk down the hillside you treaded up.

“Is there something you need?” His strong voice stopped you in your tracks. Of course, a voice that strong, and that deep would come from someone like him. It should almost be expected due to his size. But the tone alone was comforting to an extent. It didn’t enact fear in you.

You turn back around to look at him once more. Trying to find something to actually say that has real meaning. “I, uhh, see you from my window most days and I just wanted to know what you’re looking at?”

He looked down into the valley below. The blue of the nearby lake shined under the hot sun. Trees blowing in the humid summer breeze. “I wasn’t looking at anything.”

“No?” it seems your courage finds its metal and you walk up beside him, looking down into the same valley. “This is a very beautiful view, though. I would’ve never come up here, save for my curiosity.”

You backed away from the edge, remembering that you have a fear of heights. “Again, I’m very sorry that I bothered you. I just…”

There you go again.

He takes a seat on the ground near where he was before, crossing his arms against his chest. “I was only meditating. You are welcome to join me if you wish.”

Unmoving from where you stood and just above a whisper, “I don’t think I know how. I tried with the company sponsored app and it’s just too much.”

You heard him take a breath in. It was long and deep, and filled his chest.

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about. However, take a seat here.” He pointed to a patch of grass near him. You obliged sitting down on the spot he designated.

His eyes were closed, his head tilted down towards the ground, relaxing.

“It’s your decision now if you wish to think or not.”

You looked over at him, his form unchanged. “Think of what?”

“That is what you must choose.”

“Do you work for my company? I don’t think I’ve seen you in the building before. I only see you on this hill.”

“I do not work for anyone.”

Your hands relax in your lap. “Oh, so you’re a freelancer then. You might make some good money, but no benefits is shit.”

“You are making little sense now. Clear you mind. Or keep your thoughts to yourself.”

You sat quietly for sever moments. You were watching him, taking in the strange details of his silhouette.

But you broke the silence again.

“Are you Yoda?”

“I’m Piccolo.”

“Is that your ‘Yoda’ name? Your like Yoda, but your name is Piccolo….Piccolo like the instrument.”

He took another breath this time it resembled more of a deep grown. His brow is furrowed with confusion and almost frustration at this point. His hand are gesticulating when he raises his voice. “I do not understand what you’re saying.”

What should have frightened you made you smile cheerfully. There is nothing you love more than to talk about one of your favorite things, Star Wars.

“Okay, so there’s this movie called Star Wars and there is a character in that movie called Yoda. Yoda is a small green character and he has pointy ears.” You looked over at him pointing, “Oh, yeah, kind of exactly like your ears.”

You look back out at the scenery, shoulders, relaxing, and the tone of your voice, so joyful. “And he talks so formal and it’s almost as if he speaks in riddles. You kind of remind me of him, though you’re not small like Yoda.”

Again, you look to him. But his eyes are open and he’s staring into the air blinking blankly. You went silent, then. Fear of irritating him once more. Your eyes darting between him and your fingers in your lap. “I’m sorry…I…listen, I have never met anyone like you. I can only compare you to what I think I know. However, I know that’s only fiction. I don’t mean to be rude or a burden.”

He’s floating several inches off the ground, his eyes closed.

You turn sitting on your calves now. “Piccolo, what are you exactly?”

“A Yoda,” he said very serious, his tone almost booming.

Your obvious confusion broke him as he began to chuckle.

“I am an Namekian.”

“A Na-mek-ian,” you said repeating the title, annunciating the syllables. “So you’re an alien.”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Well, I guess I kind of figured you are green and everything.”

That made him turn to look at you. But you looked right back at him matter-of-factly.

“It is kind of odd, you know, the whole green skin. What are these rigid parts on your arms?”

That confused look painted his face again. “My skin?”

“Yeah, these parts.” You touched the and quickly retracting your hand. It was soft like your own skin. For some reason you imagined it’d be sticky or at least moist. “I did not expect it to feel like that.” You squinted your eyes looking at his arm again. “It’s like you have a worm in there.”

“A worm?” It sounded like a question, yes, but it was really just a confused statement at best.

“It’s like the ridges that a worm has….”

He’s not even listening, his thumb and forefinger pressed again the bridge of his nose.

Shit.

I’m talking to much again.

“I’m sorry…”

You waited for his harsh tone to sting your ears again.

But it only came out in a calm, collected way.

“Perhaps, that is enough for today.” He put his feet on the ground. He faced away from you. “Farewell miss.”

That’s when he blasted off from the hillside into the air.

Only Superman can do that. Maybe only Clark and Namekians?

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking.

Gosh, if Yoda could have done that then the entire plot of films would be different.

What if Yoda could fly, and we just didn’t know it.

Shut up!

You just spoke with a green alien, named Piccolo, who can fly.

A green alien.

Named Piccolo….like the instrument.

Who. Can. Fly.

╘══════════════════════╛

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

#dragon ball z piccolo #piccolo x reader #piccolo and you #cotton candy fic #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #fanfic #slug man #green king

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echantedtoon · 5 months

Text

N x Gender Neutral Reader

The small hum of elevator like music played from somewhere in the center as you tapped your fingers in time with the ticks on the clock on the wall. How long did it take to heal up one little skitty from a small battle? Those were the thoughts that constantly passed through your mind as the merry go round of boredom still played on your face and mind.

Two hours and counting...

You groaned and face planted your head into your hands. This would be a Looooong wait. You could already tell by now-

"Chancey!"

You jolted at the sudden intrusion of your boredom and jumped back at the sudden pink blob in front of you. The pokemon center's resident Chancey happily smiled and tilted it's giant head at you. The little nurse hat on it's head and egg pouch adding to the nurse asthetic it rang out.

...You blinked. "Oh...Is Nurse Joy done yet?"

The chancey shook it's head before side stepping to the right to look past you. You once again grumbled and placed your head back into your hands in boredom, once again resuming the tapping the fingers against the counter. You didn't see or hear the doors to the center open behind you or the footsteps coming up behind you until someone came up next to you and spoke-

"Hello again."

You once again jolted and gave a look towards the newcomer who disturbed your new found boredom. The tall man adored a fluffy green waterfall of hair that flowed over one of his eyes and down his back in a long ponytail. He paid no attention to you as we spoke to the Chancey in front of you two-

"Chancey chance," the pokemon piped up in greeting.

"Oh? How nice. Nurse Joy must have her hands full today." He gave a soft smile at the pokemon likes he was having an actual conversation with it.

"Chancey?," it asked pointing a stubby arm at the small bag he carried.

"Oh, no. I'll need more than that. I'm going on a rather long trip, so I need a lot more than usually if you don't mind." He calmly held out the small shoulder bag towards the giant pink pokemon who gladly took the bag from him and gave off a happy sound at him. "I'll send Nurse Joy the money for the supplies soon. Would you please get what I need?"

"Chance chancey!" The pink pokemon happily turned away from the counter and happily waddled off for the back room where you assumed the supplies the man needed were.

After a few seconds of staring after the pokemon you glanced at the other human out of curiousity and noticed he was also silently staring off into space. Deciding it's none of your business you turn back to your usually head holding boredom. The typical fashion ensued with you waiting and staring ahead with the silent human, once and a while glancing at him out of curiousity before going back to your temporary routine. The next time you glanced back though you saw him staring back at you. You froze to say the least. The green eyes he had matched the flowing hair as he stared down at your smaller form. You blinked and gave a look around you to make sure he was actually staring at YOU and not something next to you before looking back up at him.

"....Uh....C-Can I help you?," you asked raising a eyebrow. Not quite sure what this was all about.

He slowly smiled. "Excuse me for my sudden rudeness. But I thought since you were looking at me that I might return the favor."

"Oh...Sorry about that, man." You gave off a sheepish smile before leaning off the counting. "I'm just a little bored. Y-Y'know how that goes."

Oh sweet mother of machomp. You felt bad now. If the guy knew you were looking at him it made you sound like a creep or rude, even if you didn't come off like that in your mind. But the stranger didn't seem annoyed, he seemed amused by this.

"It's quite alright. There's no need to be sorry. But maybe ask next time if someone prefers to be watched."

"Uh....Yeah. I-I'll do that."

Another moment of silence passed, and the two of you were once again silently staring in different directions. GOD! The silence was slowly killing you. You glanced back to the tall strange just for a second. He was the only one there and who knows. Maybe talking would distract you enough until Nurse Joy finally came back.

"So, uh..." He hummed and turned to you. God you felt like an idiot. Say something! "Where ya heading?"

"You mean my trip?" You nodded and he chuckled. "I try to never stay in one place for too long. I have a thing against....'some' people finding me out."

You weren't really sure how to take that. 'Some people'? Maybe he had some insane rivals or something. You shrugged it off. Lots of people had rivals and traveled constantly. It was normal for trainers to do this.

"Oh, I see. Are you packing for a long time?"

He chuckled. "You could say that? But enough of me. What caused your boredom here?"

"Oh. I'm waiting for my skitty."

"Oh. So you're a trainer? How nice."

You shrugged. "Yeah. But it's been a long waiting process."

"Oh? Well how long have you been waiting for?," he asked very interested.

"About two hours. It's taking a long time."

"Well perhaps the pokemon is in greater pain than the trainor realized? Sometimes we can't understand the pain and agony they go through because most trainers see them more as objects than actual living creatures. It's what makes me such a big fan of Nurse Joy and her establishments. She cares deeply for the ones she treats." He sighed and lifted a hand to his face to wipe at the bangs covering his eyes. "Maybe one day everything will change and we can look at everything in a new way, but for now my journey is still ongoing for the goal."

You stared blankly at him for probably longer than you've been staring at the clock for the past hours. Not quite sure how to take in the small speech he just laminated towards you. You were still staring when he turned to you and asked-

"But how rude of me. We started a conversation and I didn't even ask for your name. Who do I have the pleasure of talking to today?" He held his hand like you would when someone would give you a handshake.

"Uh..." Your brain shook itself to kickstart. What did he want? Your name? "Uh..It's (y/n)." You slowly reached out your hand to shake his. "And your name is...?"

"N."

"N what?"

"That's it. N plain and simple."

You gave him a confused look. Everything about him was strange especially his name. What kind of person just had one letter as a name? He still smiled and trailed his eyes down.You blinked and followed his eyes until you noticed that you two were still holding hands. You immediately wretched yours away and mumbled a "Sorry!". To which he chuckled at.

"It's quite alright. Wouldn't be the first time a lovely person wanted to hold my hand.~"

Your mouth dropped open and heat rose to your face as N smiled wider and chuckled-

"CHANCEY!" "There you are."

You both were snapped out of it as the resident Nurse Joy and Chancey were back. The Chancey holding a now full bag and a small cat pokemon was sat in Nurse Joy's arms.

"ADDI!," you happily chirped as the small skitty reacted to the name and gave off a happy chirp noise.

The skitty hopped from the counter and into your awaiting arms before giving off a loud purr, just as N reached over to take his bag back.

"Thank you," he said to the Chancey.

"Chancey chance-chance??"

"Oh,no. You've done quite enough for me. I'd best be going. Both of you take care. I'll send the money I owe when I can." He gave the two nurses a smile before throwing the bag over his shoulder and turning towards you. He gave a smile at your skitty before turning to your face. "Thank you for the talk. I hope your boredom doesn't last too long now."

"Oh,uh...Yeah. No problem."

He gave off one last smile before turning on his heel and back towards the automatic doors in the front. You watched him go while scratching you're now purring healthy skitty and the confusing thoughts continued to run though your mind.

What the heck was all that?

#Pokemon N #pokemon n x reader #N #n x reader

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wikimb · 8 months

Text

Devil Trigger 3.0 for Michael!

A 3rd attempt at designing his DT since 2021 when I made Michael (or rather revived and remade/fleshed out his character from a DMC fanfiction written in 2019...).

I could explain in length the ideas behind this DT, why such a theme, why so... tall. The ramble includes serious explanation of the origins of demonic powers he has as well. If you like to read about it then just check what's under the cut.

Below you have some drawings of his face and also his brother's (name's Gabriel) reaction to his DT form. Michael was more scared of Gabriel's reaction than he actually was and the relief he felt was quite overwhelming.

More in depth below. It includes links to the 2 older versions of his DT for fun comparison.

The theme of his DT is very birdy. The first time I designed his DT it was rather heavily inspired by pre-existing DT designs of our main characters. Nothing wrong with it but it didn't stand out and I also never really vibed with it. It didn't help that I had no experience with any kind of monster design to begin with. I still kinda don't but I can see I got slightly better seeing the 3rd version of his DT. You can check my 1st and 2nd attempts here.

Anyway there are a bit more specific reasons why it's so birdy-looking or angelic-looking (and not just because of his name). Michael was born a human in a family, which was never exposed to anything demon-related. They didn't know demons existed (to a degree... when it comes to his father but I think that'd deserve a separate post as his backstory is a bit wild and how it affected Michael in the end).

As a teenager he got lured into a cult and manipulated into abandoning his family eventually. He didn’t know how evil the cult was and didn't even realize they were a cult to begin with.

It was a cult worshipping Mundus with a leader being one his generals. Her name was Lilith and she was great at making Michael feel that she truly cared for him like a mother figure. She manipulated him into believing his family didn't care for him. Sadly, it was all a game and ever since he escaped the cult, he deals with a lot of guilt and regret. He is not sure if they're even still alive... and if they're dead... what if it's his fault?

The cult's purpose was to turn humans into demons, who would serve Mundus. To ensure that they were forced to undergo a ritual stripping them of all of their humanity, their human personality and replace all of that with Mundus overwhelming power. The power, which was great but taking away all of their free will they could have. These people were technically demons at this point. If the ritual failed then it was usually fatal. Thing is, the ritual was a stolen concept from the time when Lilith infiltrated Fortuna's Order of the Sword. In a way she influenced Agnus to come up with such a ritual, then she took the idea and modified it a bit.

Michael's case could be qualified as a failed ritual after, which he should have died but the amount of demonic power he received was not big enough to kill him (because human body would be able not to handle more) but instead keep him alive. And as a result it continued transforming/mutating him into a demon-hybrid like Dante or Vergil, but artificial.

Even if using demoning powers was causing various unpleasant side effects for him but with each use, it hurt less and less. He was reluctant to use his powers actively, fearing that they could make him loose his humanity. He still used the passive abilities such as sensing demon magic.

After certain events he unlocked his Devil Trigger. As a side note I do have 2 ideas for what these moments were but for now I am not sure which one is better.

Anyway, yes, Michael underwent a modified version of Ascension Ceremony! That's why he has such an angelic look, just like the guys from Fortuna. The demonic powers are originating from Mundus but failed to take away his free will, his personality, his humanity, his memories. In other words, he is the same like before - just juiced up with Mundus power (which he is afraid to use anyway). Certainly a result which a Demon Lord would actually hate to find out about as it has a potential to backfire. Not like he has to "worry" about three Sparda descendants already. But if you saw Mundus himself, he also looks rather angelic too. Or at least that "statue form" if that orange weird blob is meant to be really him.

Compared to DTs already seen, he is quite massive. I think it can be simply a feature of Mundus power, in which Devil Trigger state makes one much larger than in human form. Mundus is a titan-sized demon himself, while Sparda was shown to be rather human sized. Heh, maybe if Michael had Sin Devil Trigger form then he could be Mundus-sized.

Though, Michael has the ability to go Berserk (but it's not controlled by his will and it triggers under strong distress), which enhances his power in human form and in DT form. It manifests as blue fire instead of orange fire. Maybe Berserk DT can get this big maybe. Could wrestle demons like Goliath then xD

#devil may cry 5 #dude #aka michael #original character #oc #dmc oc

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