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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!

Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.

He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.

(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)

He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.

He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.

He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.

Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.

Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.

Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.

He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.

So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.

He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.

What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?

He flirts with Death.

Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.

Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.

Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.

"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.

He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.

Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.

"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."

Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."

"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.

"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.

"Please don't call him that."

Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."

Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."

"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.

Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.

He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!

"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"

"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."

"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.

"I'm older than you"

There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."

"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.

While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.

"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"

"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"

Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.

"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.

The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.

"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"

Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.

It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?

Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.

Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.

Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.

Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.

Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #It's all fun and games kids!#spirit halloween #The Batkids are stressed #Danny pretending to be a Himbo #Like Brucie but only towards Batman #Danny looks young as hell #Bruce is ignoring him for now #Slow burn???#Maybe???

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bowieandqueen11 · 9 months

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Sanji With A Clingy Reader Would Include...

Request: OH BABY telling about one piece is like unlocking a whole second heart of mine i have fully for that anime and manga and live action. and so, if you ever decided of course, you writing something similar to something you did on marvel once and sanji with reader that has no personal space and is touchy would be amazing. but also... kissing zoro is great to, if you ever decided? anyway! HOPE YOU LOVE IT (one piece i mean), and if not ignore me UwU

Ooh yess babes this is so SWEET!! :3 I LOVED IT omg hello to my latest obsession not me ordering the first collection of the manga

This was really sweet and fun to do, but I did stay up all night writing it so all comments are much appreciated!

Warning: slightly spicy, some mentions of fighting!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fanpageknight.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look at this man. Seriously, look at this man with his little bottom lip bite and eyes like the sun shines heavily out of them and tell me he would be anything less than absolutely madly, heart wrenchingly, soul crushingly enthralled with a clingy reader??? That's right you can't take the l on this one.

It all started that day when the three of you ended up shipwrecked on that sad sack excuse of a rock. When you and Sanji huddled on one side of the forsaken isle to stay away from the terrifying Pirate Zeff. His hands had shaken as he drew them up to his chest, but he mustered the nerves to string open the sack Zeff had thrown at his feet. Once he had counted out the cans, he offered all the food to you.

He wanted you to stay alive far more than himself. Ever since you had landed on his ship he had been smitten, and his weary heart would beat its last under this smothering sun as long as you would live on for the both of them.

To keep him calm: to stop his gasping, tortured heaves as he tried his best not to writhe in panic at the thought of never stepping back on safe land again, you would spent most of those 85 days sitting over the cragged edges. Sanji couldn't tear his eyes away from peering down at the gushing shards of stone below that seemed to rip up in tides and tear for his swinging feet; to try and distract him from sniffling any longer, your hand would tentatively creep over the rock until it landed flatly, and unceremoniously on top of his own. His fingers flexed beneath your own, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he folded them upwards, giving your hand a shaking squeeze: a dutiful promise, a flitting confession of love, that you just happened not to feel in your ruminations of the circumstances.

In fact, he asked you that night, in an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful voice, if you would keep his nightmares away by holding him like his mother used to. You felt terrible: you were so stunned that for a moment you stood with the last piece of mouldy bread you had in your hand in shocked silence. Poor Sanji thought you were about to reject him outright: throw what little he had left of his heart - that he had so carefully lifted out and placed in his hands to offer to you, only to have it thrown back to his feet in the usual ridicule he got for his love. His bottom lip began to tremble, until you nearly knocked him onto his bottom with how fast you dropped everything and flew over to lock him in a tight hug, not minding the fact that your shoulder was growing wetter and wetter despite the brewing rain each time Sanji buried his snivelling head against it.

So you would let him rest safely in the bracket of your arms: his left cheek resting in the warm stretch between your collar bone and your neck, his right hand draped leisurely around your waist as you told him stories of pirates and treasure: of the Deep Blue and tropical fish that shone like bursts of fragmented starlight every time their fins graced the water. Although he would groan any time you removed your hand from where you were stroking the wet strands of his hair back from his forehead, it was quickly replaced with wonderment as you would point up at a cluster of stars and whisper excitedly: 'look, there's some now!'

He had never been afraid of nights ever since that moment, not when the stars were still out and he could trace with the butt of his cigarettes the fish you had drawn specially for him in the skies. It was like a secret message: a lover's reminder that he was never alone. That you were always with him. That your beauty - your light, it shone everywhere, no matter where he was.

It was the first time he had kissed you, two forgotten children lost underneath the dripping crevice of your little hideaway. As your belly began to rise and fall underneath his elbow, and he believed you had exhausted yourself out after trying to make him feel better, he dared to dart up from your shoulder and press his lips firmly against your cheek. It had been quick, almost gliding past time like a dolphin leaping up out of the water, but it had meant so much to him that he curled up into a ball in your side and flushed a bright cerise, having to shove his fist into his mouth to stop his manic giggling from waking you up.

But you weren't asleep, and as Sanji settled back into your neck with a smile bright enough to rival the shine of buttercup petals, you swore as he began to drift off in the first peaceful dream he had had in years that one day you would return the favour, but in full.

The two of you were thick as thieves growing up, to the point where Zeff became so distracted by your antics that he often tried to separate the two of you by making you work the floor and Sanji either in the kitchens, or off fishing at the docks. Ten seconds later though, he'd be kicking through the kitchen doors again to find you leaning on the kitchen counter next to an eager faced Sanji, whose to busy to register Zeff's shouting. Instead he places the spoon to your lips, having spent half of lunch service prep cooking you a brand new recipe he had spent the whole night creating out of a medley of your favourite foods. He subconsciously licks his bottom lip, the tension in the room felt by the other chefs who try to carry on washing pans and cutting vegetables enough to put everyone on edge as Sanji refused to look anywhere but your lips. Holding his hand under your chin, his dipped eyes were broken by a sudden grin as a loud 'mmhhh' left your mouth and you chewed in sweet bliss.

Still ignoring Zeff's increasingly erratic rant, as Sanji goes to start cleaning up his pan you slide down to stand behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around your back and jutting your chin into his shoulder blade like a baby koala. You can tell he's laughing silently by the way his shoulders shake against you, but all he does is pull up your hand from his belly button to press sweet, dainty kisses up and down the lengths of your fingers, before dropping it down to press your palm flatly against his heart.

'I think that might be your greatest dish yet, buttercup!'

'From you, that means everything my precious heart.'

'Why do you call me that?', you murmur, refusing to lift your lips from his shirt.

'Well my sweet love, why do you call me buttercup? I mean, I always know I smell of butter and the likes-'.

He's distracted by your snort against the side of his neck, but the two of you are too love-strikingly embarrassed to say anything again. Even if neither of you could see the warm peach rushing up both your cheeks, Zeff could. He could also hear the padding thuds of Sanji's heart as he gripped his fingers that almost imperceptibly bit tighter around your hand, and he found himself sighing at how oblivious you two idiots were.

Sanji is definitely just as clingy as you, if not more so. You've definitely met your match in this man. I mean, any time you're out on the floor, handing out bread to tables and scanning the room to check if there were any patrons you may have to throw out by the scuff of their collars later, his eyes are trained on yours. He leans against the banisters, not even trying to remotely hide how obviously he's tracing your path with a dumbstruck, lit up smile. If you're in the kitchens, desperately trying to bite your tongue and not tear Zeff a new one as he chops his hands together and rushes you to plate up? He's sliding up to your side in an instant, throwing scathing looks at the man while trying to help you spoon thyme onto your bass, nuzzling the side of his head into yours encouragingly. If you have any free time at all? Sanji is fast on your heels, darting after you like someone's firing shots at his dress shoes, as if you have his heart tied to a string on your wrist as he seeks out whatever nook you're going to relax in. It doesn't matter if you're at the bar, watching the docks, or trying to hide from Zeff in one of the cupboards in the pantry: Sanji is squatting down and grunting as he shoves himself in right next to you. He sits criss cross, only satisfied when at least one of his knees is resting heavily over yours, and he has full access to watch what you're reading over the side of your neck.

He only fully settles, though, if you touch him in some way. He genuinely will begin mewling once your hand reaches over to brush your knuckles over his jawline, or your hand finds itself guided to bunch itself up in his hair. One time, he guided your hand into his lap, and you began to absentmindedly stroke your pointer finger along the seam of his inner thigh. Thank goodness you had your head buried in a book one of the pirate crews had come to swap some dried meats with you for, because it took every muscle in Sanji's body twitching: every finger clenching and unclenching into his knee until he drew blood not to knock you flat right there and then and kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

He gets a MASSIVE nosebleed - so gushing, in fact, that he tries to reassure you he's fine as you hold him by the elbows and lead his tilted back head and pinched nose down to Zeff for some help.

It becomes a very major recurring issue every time he looks at you. He makes sure to carry a handkerchief in his breast pocket from then on.

God, if he didn't love you more than anything in all the seas. If you weren't the only one that he let see past his charming nature: if you weren't the only person left in his life that truly could recognise the young boy left in his eyes, in his gait, in his smile, in his dreams. That little kid on that great big ship, the one who had found you stowed away behind one of the barrels of rum, and instead of calling for the crew had taken your trembling hand and led you into the kitchens, introducing you as his newest sous chef. That same kid, who stood beside you and held your hand so gently, so heartbreakingly gently under his as he guided you through lessons of chopping onions and sautéing garlic, breaking out into long strings of rushed, praising French every time you got it right. The same one, who would frown as if he were the one who had been hurt any time you burnt your hands or sliced your fingers. Who would unravel the knot at the back of his apron, and tug it over his head to carefully place it over yours.

'This always brings me luck', he would say as his fingers daintily tucked the strings underneath your shirt collar. 'But I don't need it anymore, because you've brought me all the luck and happiness a man could ever dream of, my cherie.'

The same kid who would tip toe out of his bed to sneak down to your hammock, crawling in and burying himself underneath your blankets where you slept in the brig, telling you fantastical stories about his mother until you fell sound asleep. He would watch you from where he lay on his side, hands folded by your head, as if you had hung every star in the wide skies. He would brush his fingers over the edge of your cheek and curl up beside you, wishing that every minute of every day of the rest of his life could be spent with you.

Yeah, smitten wasn't enough to cover it. Only destiny could be raw enough to draw the two of you to each other, Sanji always thought.

As teenagers, you would end every shift outside, sitting on the wonky boards of one of the jutted docks. Just sitting side by side, as you always wanted to be, pretending you weren't playing a game of chicken as the two of you teased and pressed and glanced your fingers over each other's, leaning back and looking up at the stars. Sanji always appreciated the better chance it gave him: shrouded in naught by wisps of moonlight and the rare flashing neon of ship string lights, to take you in as much as he could. You didn't mind the fact that he spent the whole time staring over at you. In fact, if you hadn't been so lovestruck, you might have found the courage to tear your head away from the horizon to meet the look of gut-wrenching devotion that always seemed to pour out of his eyes and beam only on you. It always felt like warm sunlight, sitting next to him, and so you finally dared a chance at grabbing his fingers and intertwining them between your own, pretending it was because of the sea chill spraying a fine mist over your legs.

Again, the squeeze he gave your hand was almost, almost imperceptible, but you felt it this time. And you could feel the look of enduring devotion he pierced into your skin, a warm tingle washing like a spring tide through your tired body.

He always knew. He always knew that if he had stayed on that rock, he would have been content to. Happy, even. Because he would have been with you.

'I love you', he said without words. He gave your hand another squeeze. 'I'm going to love you forever. No matter how many lifetimes. No matter who I am. I'm always going to find you, and I'm always going to love you.'

His voice nearly made you jump, surprising you at how it started with his usual buttery smoothness, before cracking with a thick gulp as his words trailed of. 'Never leave without me.'

'I promise, as long as you don't leave without me.'

He shakes his head. 'You never leave me. Not even for a moment.'

Sometimes, when the two of you are older, he still comes stealing into your room at night, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as his lips wobble into a frightened frown. Turns out, as he draws the covers back and comes reaching in for you, he had another nightmare that pirates had come to steal you away from him again. With an aching sigh for how stricken he looked, how desolate, you let him claw at your shirt and bury his head into the side of your neck until the rest of the world melted away.

He kissed you again, that night. When the feel of his legs strewn familiarly between your own began to burn against his skin, and the weight of hand perched over his thrumming heart became too heavy to bear in secret. With nothing but the light streaming like shards of pearly stars through the porthole to betray a moment so special, so longed for, Sanji let his eyelashes flutter close as he slowly... slowly pressed his lips against your cheek again.

This time, his eyes widened in shock as the feeling of your hand gripping at his jaw and turning his face straight on to your own. Before he can even open his mouth in confusion, the sweet pressure of your lips pressed against his top one. For a moment, Sanji doesn't move an inch: doesn't even breath, not even processing that the thing he’s spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he found you on that boat was actually happening, right here right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own.

When he finally pulls away, he lets out a loud 'OW' as he pinches his arm.

'What did you do that for!?'

'I had to double check this wasn't a dream, my sweets!'

And then he's on you again, like a ravished man gasping for air. God, he wasn't sure if soulmates were real, but when your top lip pulled down against his, and he could feel the thud of your heart synch against his own beneath the tips of his fingers, if he didn't know that he was yours.

He stays in your room a lot more often after that, using it as an excuse for you to help him button up his shirt during sleepy mornings, smiling at the feel of your fingers as they knocked against the muscles of his chest. It was also his favourite part of the day - the good morning kiss the two of you shared before you raced down to be at your shifts before Zeff decided to knock your heads together.

One time you forgot to give him one, too distracted by one of the sous chefs busting into your room with a bloodied nose and a chipped front tooth, whistling through the gap as he begged you to come down to the main foyer and help him break out a fist fight that had started between two gangs of rival pirates. The pout on Sanji's face that day was enough to make even the most bounty-heavy pirate's knees tremble. Every other chef steered way clear of his station, watching the arch of his back and the jaw in his muscle jump as he busied himself by frying his steak of tuna, so gutted at the loss of just one kiss. Not angry, no: just grief stricken, because this man seriously just adores you that much.

When you finally get your lunch break, the first thing you do is throw your napkin down on the kitchen ground and grab Sanji by his suit collar, enjoying the surprise tilt of his head as he drops his spoon onto his serving tray and allows you to lead his feet backwards to the fire exit. As soon as he's outside, you slam him gently against the wooden beams of the Baratie restaurant, and kissed him silly to make up for it. His look of trusting confusion suddenly melt into jumping heart eyes when your knee slides up between his thighs to try and pin him in place. His breathing comes out in harsh, shallow gasps between ferocious kisses, and you have to press him back against the wall every time he comes arching forward to follow your head for even more kisses. No, this was about you making him feel good. And by goodness, as your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and tentatively ran over his front teeth, if he wasn't two seconds away from falling to his knees right there and then.

When you let him go, he slides down the wall like putty until he's sitting with legs stretched out and both his suit and hair a ruffled mess. He's literally never been more deliriously happy in his whole life.

Your favourite time of the day is when the restaurant closes, and the two of you finally have the kitchens to yourselves. Once you've tossed your aprons back onto the rack with a tired sigh, the only thing that can cheer you up is the sound of Sanji kicking his chair back with the toe of his shoe, and the sight of him beckoning you over to him with that tilted head and pearly beam of his. Mmh, how safe you feel, how loved as you collapse down to sit on his knees, and he tucks you in between the brackets of his arms in a vice so tight it could match any Marine knot.

You take one of his hands off the pen he was holding, turning his palm round to face you so you could fiddle with the rings he was wearing. You draw one up, curling his finger before your eyes, before slotting one off and sliding it onto your own ring finger. It was the one his father had given him: one he so loathed to wear, and yet felt guilt bore down too heavily on his conscious to ever take it off. You turned the one on top of it, one you know Zeff had given him after his first day working at the Baratie, and you smiled at the memory.

'You know', you start, still fiddling with his hand, feeling him shift his thighs as you pressed a gentle kiss on the pointer finger you were currently grasping onto. 'I may just have to keep this one.'

'Oh yeah?', he says dreamily, and you could feel his grin growing as he hid his burning face in the nape of your neck. 'Don't worry sweetheart. One day, once I find the perfect one, I'll give you a ring of your own.'

The two of you sneak out and share cigarettes out the back door a lot, where Sanji steps forward and kisses you like a man possessed every time you pinch the stub from out of his mouth and draw it along your bottom lip teasingly. When you try to get him to go back in, he just wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, spinning you around to stop you from leaving him alone. Laughing, you try to shove him off, swatting at the hands that form a tight clasp over your belly button, until his large fingers finally slide down to hold your waist. You glance behind you, smirking at the way his eyes are tightly shut in euphoria as ducks down, chest nearly enveloping in his desperation to reach your face again. His kisses become sloppier: smoke stained as they leave wet trails up your jaw, before he finally gives in and tries to make you laugh one last time by nibbling at the lobe of your ear.

Whenever he has a fight with Zeff, you have to hold him afterwards. The feel of your fingers curling the hair at the nape of his neck, or rubbing soothing circles into the sore muscles of his shoulders stops the furious darts of air from flaring his nostrils almost immediately.

Man has blaring heart eyes 100% whenever he's in a fight with rowdy customers, and you get to kick the flashy knife out of the last one's hand before the pirate could launch straight for Sanji's neck. He tilts his head at you with those amazed eyes, a gentle smile growing almost shyly on his face like a secret wink, before he throws his now empty plate at the pirate trying to sneak up behind your back. The crash echoes out through the booth area, a cry so furious: so full of rage that anyone would try and dare hurt you, that it makes all the remaining pirate crews crawl out towards the door on their hands and knees.

Stitching each other up afterwards is a motherfcking mess though, that Zeff straight up just abandons all hope of being able to use his kitchen. With a defeated rub of his pounding temples, he lets the door slam shut on his heel because he just can't deal with the two of you. He'd much rather pick up a brush and start sweeping bits of crushed and splattered asparagus off the floors than have to watch you to battle it out in a stiff competition of who could be more sickeningly, maddingly in love with the other. Between you standing between Sanji's entrapping thighs, closing you in tighter so you could have full access to kiss his bobbing Adam's apple as you use a rag to swipe bits of dry sauce off his neck, and him throwing his head back and whimpering, Zeff was going to go insane. Even worse, as soon as you're finished, Sanji's reaching between your fingers to lick split consomme off your nose.

The two of you are literally insufferable, and if every one apart from Zeff doesn't find it the cutest thing I-

When Luffy comes and wrangles Sanji into joining his crew, the chef's first thought is to be distraught. He seeks you out straight away, nearly breaking some poor fisherman's pole as he tries to hurdle over it and grip onto your shoulders, making you drop the barrel of dried meats you were carrying from Luffy onto the planks and watching Luffy nearly dangle off the edge of his ship to stop it from rolling into the ocean.

'Y/n- I- I can't go!'

'You're hardly scared!'

'I'm not scared of going, I'm terrified of going without you!'

You let him pour his heart out for a moment, before stopping his rambling, near sobbing mess of a sentence by bopping the tip of his nose. You giggle, swiping some hair from his forehead. 'Sanji, Luffy asked me to come first. I promised I wouldn't go without you, and I meant it.'

You manage to unlatch his twitching hand from your left shoulder, and give it an almost imperceptible squeeze. The tears that threatened to fall from his eyes finally cascade down, although he's so relieved that he's smiling through the blurriness. You swipe them away with your free thumb, finally, after all these years, feeling the squeeze of your hand that Sanji gives you back, before he envelops you in a breath taking hug.

'Awww, you guys are so sweet!', Luffy calls out from where he's hanging by his sandal off the railing of his ship. 'But could someone give me a hand before my hat falls into the waves? That would not be very cool.'

The first thing the two of you do once you're on The Going Merry is to find your bunk. Sanji isn't very subtle when he kicks your door shut with his heel, and comes scampering towards you like an upended sand crab, pinching for you until he's hefted you up over his shoulder and has unceremoniously landed you in your shared hammock. He's quick to jump in, straddling you as the hammock sways back and forth with the commotion.

He nearly starts crying again when he sees a flash of silver poke out from underneath your neckline; he grazes his hand over the chain, recognising it as his father's ring you had taken months ago. The one he had hated so much. The one you had tried to save him from. A small piece of him. A weight you tried to bear for him. A reminder of how much he was loved.

A confused Zoro, not realising there are new crew members on board, follows the sound of Sanji's voice crooning out how much he adores you, and how he loves you more than every star in the sky, down past the window on your bedroom door. Let's just say, he's not very impressed when he catches sight of the hammock swinging wildly from side to side, and an array of clothes thrown out and discarded in a mess around it.

#one piece #sanji #one piece imagine #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #sanji headcanons #opla #monkey d luffy #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji headcanons

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

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how would the old men of the sea react to y/n asking them to join them in the bath tub?

I gotcha Sweety Pop! 🍭

Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️

Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy x ReaderGN

🫧 Join Me? 🫧

Spicy Themes! + Fluff

Buggy

You lay in the large copper bath with a happy sigh, the sweet smell of lavender bubble bath filling the room as you relaxed heavily. You didn't get much time like this to yourself especially on Buggy's ship. Being the main one to keep the place at some semblance or order.

You sigh and lean back to close your eyes and drifr off. Before you hear your door being roughly busted into-

"(Y/N)! Did you approve for them to paint the sky background light blue for the stage peice I wa- wa.. You're uh-" Buggy stopped at his rant as he saw you in the bubble bath, Calmly blinking up at him as he stopped mid rant.

"Captian? Are you okay?" You calmly ask, seeing how red his face was under his grease paint. He turned away quickly.

"I didn't know you were in the bath! I-I was just coming in for-" you wave off his yelling almost-apology. Knowing this was just what he did when flustered, Sitting up more you smirked at your Captian deciding to tease more.

"Wanna join me?~"

You offer, his eyes locking on you quickly like you had just grown a second head. Nodding rapidly and without even saying anything he was already stripping down to nothing like the clothes were the enemy and flinging them away even using the Chop Chop abilities to strip faster.

You laugh as the man almost swan diving into the water and getting real close with a crooked grin, the makeup already melting off his handsome face and eyes shimmering in mischief. He will defiently not keep this innocent for long-

Shanks

You and your crew had taken a stop on a empty island while sailing for the grand line. Choosing to party here and enjoy a few days of laying low before setting sail in a few days.

You would be taking a midnight dip in a nearby stream- enjoying the nice cool water on your skin as you take the time to wash up.

You heard the sound of rustling from the brush next to the stream and look up quickly- seeing your Captian, Red Haired Shanks stumble through the brush, his cheeks red from the booze as he looked around confused- blushing at the sight of you in the water.

"Ah sorry Sweety didn't mean to stumble on ya!" Shanks said with a chuckle, looking away shyly at catching you in this state.

You giggle at this and sink into the water yo cover yourself, the alcohol still flowing in your own system.

"It's alright Cap just enjoying the water. Well why don't you join me? Its cool in here" You offer, feeling way more bold then normal-

Not catching the giddy smile from Shanks as he sets down the rum bottle and starts to disrobe. Jumping in right after you with a smile as he swims to catch up to you.

"Don't mind if I do (Y/N)!-" He will chime and defienly take the chance to swim close to you. Alcohol defiently playing a part in whatever happened that night.

Mihawk

You where in the main bathhouse of Mihawk's Palace in Kuraigana Island. It was a massive room filled with amazing mineral water- it was quite heavenly in truth.

You floated in the water for a bit, fully frontal on the top of the water in pure relation. Which was cut short when the door opened... Your eyes widened and looked up quickly from your floating full frontal to see Mihawk holding a towel and fresh clothes with wide eyes seeing you like this.

He stared at you in shock at seeing you like this, slowly he started to close the door. As you sank into the water to cover yourself-

"W-Wait! Mihawk do you want to maybe join me?" You stutter out shyly as you stare at him. Blushing at your own boldness for asking such a thing- He paused his own movements, before slowly nodding and stepping into the bathhouse fully. You turned away to be respectful at this so he could undress in peace- however you did see his reflection from the polished walls you were looking at and blushed at what you saw.

Gwad Damn!!

Hearing him get into the water you didn't dare to glance back till you felt something warm appear behind you- Glancing up to see Mihawk standing right before you, His eyes practically glowing as he stood with his chest pressed against you a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"Embarrassed Darling?"

You will leave that bathtub dirtier then when you arrived.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #shanks one piece

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neidermayers-mindd · 2 months

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⚠ CONTENT WARNING — smut. Pure smut. (And some fluff?) p in v, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!); fingering, oral (fem receiving), Max Verstappen is a mean asshole in the paddock but a softie out of it (mostly); praise, lots of praise, mentions of alcohol and drinking; badly translated Dutch (sorryyy); reader is AFAB fem identifying. MDNI 18+.

Author's note: Sometimes Max Verstappen does things to me I cannot describe. The idea came to me and I just started writing. Also the reader is part of Scuderia Ferrari because, eheh, forza Ferrari. (Gonna write Leclerc stuff as well soon, watch me.)

All it takes is a win — Max Verstappen (Formula 1) x Scuderia Ferrari!(fem)Reader (SMUT)

Being a Formula 1 driver was anything but easy.

Sure, you had your moments when you'd spend time with the grid filming funny videos for the fans and doing weird challenges — but, once you had to get serious, the workouts and practice snapped you back to reality.

You were now part of Scuderia Ferrari — it's been a few months since you joined, and your teammates, Charles and Carlos, weren't all that bad, cracking jokes and pulling pranks on another like some high schoolers. You felt like home with them, laughing 'til morning when you'd celebrate each Grand Prix, getting drunk and all.

Your biggest issue was, however, your boyfriend.

Relationships in the grid were mostly kept a secret — you didn't need the news to holler with spicy details of the well-known Formula 1 drivers, so much for the reporters keeping an eye on all of you 24/7. If there was anything going on, it stayed within the paddock.

So, apart from Charles and Carlos, who found out against their will, nobody knew you were dating Max Verstappen. The world champion. The best of the best, or whatever made his ego inflate.

One issue you had about your boyfriend was that he'd be too cruel and unforgiving during race week. He didn't mean no harm, but it did hurt when he always expected you to do better, as he was personally involved in your training as a driver. It's like he wasn't pleased with you at all, and, Hell, even Charles told him to take it easy.

"Hey, no," the Monégasque spoke out when Max was halfway through one of his tirades again, "let Y/N be. She's learning throughout." His arms crossed, staring the Dutch down, in spite of his usual relaxed expression.

Carlos joined in, getting a bit concerned about the situation. "You can't be ordering her around like this. Trust me, we all learned in our own ways." This only earned a frustrated huff from Max, walking away from the scene as if nothing had happened in the first place — and you swore you could feel your heart beat through your Nomex underwear and Ferrari race suit.

—

You didn't even register when half of the season went by you — and, soon enough, you were ready to participate in the Austrian Grand Prix.

The race went smoother than expected — you were fully focused, your signature red Ferrari car driving past the others, smoothly operating (ha) the machine as if it was made for you.

The realization dawned onto you as the race ended and you completed your last lap, noticing only two cars past the finish line — the Red Bull cars, which were Max and Checo's.

You came third place.

Exiting the car as soon as you thought of it, you looked around, taking your helmet and balaclava off and feeling the fresh air on your sweaty face, hearing the overjoyed crowd around you.

You didn't even see when Max came and embraced you with all of his might, only noticing the joy in his eyes through his helmet. Checo followed suit, giving you a friendly embrace and congratulating you, to which you replied with the same approach.

You heard the announcer beam through the speakers, feeling pure happiness course through your veins. "And L/N comes third place on the grid, Ferrari makes its way on the podium by the end of the Austrian Grand Prix..."

This is worth celebrating, right?, the small voice in your head asked itself, unsure whether your boyfriend's reaction from earlier was genuine or not.

—

You've long changed out of your race suit and into your usual clothing, waiting in the hotel room for the hours to pass so you'd attend tonight's party; you shook hands and embraced way more people than you probably thought existed in the perimeter of the circuit and the paddock, eventually coming in your hotel room soaked from the habitual champagne bath on the podium — you were sticky, but happy.

After taking a shower, you got to this point, scrolling on your phone and reading the news pages about the race from earlier, smiling to yourself. You couldn't help but sulk when you noticed Max on each photo on-line, wondering if he was truly proud of you, if this even mattered to him.

Then, as if Max read your mind, he texted you, your phone buzzing in your hand.

'Where are you?'

You answered back, your digits tapping away on the screen.

'In my hotel room, why?'

On the other side of the phone, Max was still in the paddock, slightly frowning at your change in mood — you were on the podium, you came third place! Was there something wrong? Did you want to do better?

'Why did you leave all of a sudden?'

You reply immediately, 'The party's only later tonight. There's no point hanging around until then. I'm getting rest.' You knew you were lying — you didn't feel that tired, being used to the schedule and all. You just didn't want to endure another of Max's scoldings.

As if he read through your excuses, he types, 'Ok, I'm coming over.' You sighed at Max's response — sometimes, even outside the circuit, he was way too stubborn.

—

The door to your hotel room opened, as you didn't bother locking it; in comes Max, having, too, stripped of his race suit in exchange for more comfortable clothes, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. His blue eyes don't roam around the room — they look directly at you, in your direction. "What happened?" He asked, still seemingly puzzled by your change in behaviour.

The man sits on your bed, next to you, waiting for an answer; he still didn't bother leaving his race mannerisms where they belonged, still being oh so demanding. You don't bother responding; that is, until his hand finds your jaw and cups it so you can face his direction.

"Speak to me." He speaks out, tone still demanding, and you sigh, giving in to the man who was, although an ass sometimes, your boyfriend. Yours.

"Are you proud of me?" Your voice came out as meek, already expecting the worst answer; you can see Max's eyes slightly widen, taking in the information he needed from that question.

"So that's what it was?" Max spoke no higher than a whisper, his gaze softening. "Do you seriously think I'm not proud of you, schat?¹" And, as you shook your head, he realizes just what you're talking about, your reaction and the way you didn't dare face him.

"No, no, Y/N.." He moves onto the bed so he can hold you, shifting the two of you so your face buried in his chest, strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. "No, it's not like that. I am proud of you. I'm proud of every single thing you do, lieverd.²" Your lack of response concerns Max further, and he removes you from his warm embrace, looking into your eyes. "Please believe me."

You couldn't. You speak out, "Then why are you so cruel to me? Why do you keep bossing over everything I do?" His breathing stops for a moment, now knowing your perspective. "No, I don't mean it like that.. I am trying to help, I know how demanding Ferrari can be." His lips come in contact with your cheek, peppering small kisses on your face. "Schat, no— I just want to help, please— 'm sorry."

You feel yourself melt in Max's embrace; however, you couldn't shake any of the things that have happened before. "You're too cruel." You repeat, voice softening until it can't be heard anymore. "I know, I know", the Dutch speaks, palpable regret in his voice. "'m sorry, liefde.³ I'll do better," his words started sounding reassuring, "promise."

"Y/N— I'm especially proud of you for today. You came third place, and this was a tougher race. You did it, I'm so proud, I promise you", the man spoke between kisses, now placed on your jaw and lips. "Promise, I promise."

You went forward to taste his lips more — sweet, soft and a slight tang of victory champagne — and your eyes fluttered shut, Max's hands moving from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you in closer, even closer than imaginable; he sighed in relief, although you might be, a bit, still mad at him for not showing enough support this season.

"Come on," the blonde pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his, "let me show you. Let- please, let me show you how proud I am, schat. Please." He looked at you with soft eyes and a slightly parted mouth, slight blush on his cheeks as he fiddled with the waistband of your sweatpants. "Promise, I promise I'm proud. So proud, liefde, I promise you."

You were sure Max didn't drink apart from a few sips of champagne, and you didn't even partake in the celebration other than bathing with the alcohol instead of ingesting it. The decision prompted you to give Max a nod, and he complies, your lips meeting once more, with more hunger, as his hands shimmied your sweatpants down to expose your underwear. He followed suit, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, tugging them down just enough to get to his boxers, hardening member confined under the cotton material.

His kisses trailed on your jaw and neck, lips sucking on the soft flesh enough to make your breath hitch, and he hummed in response, tongue sliding over the soon-forming hickeys to compensate. "So sweet, schat", he spoke against the skin of your neck, making you shiver in his hold, his lips moving further down on your collarbone before nearly yanking the shirt off your body, relishing in the fact that you weren't wearing a bra.

"Your body is so pretty", he sighs out, lazy smile on his face as he seemed like he was talking to himself, making a mental note of how pretty you thought you were. "And so ready for me", he now hummed against your sensitive, hardened nipple as he wrapped his lips around it, giving it a nice, gentle suck; Max loved hearing you whimper like that, a sign that he was doing everything right.

When your hand reached for his cock, palming it through his underwear, Max stopped, his breath hitching in his throat before looking at you, aroused and slightly glad you were considering his pleasure as well; however, now was not the time. "Y/N, it's my turn to make you feel good", he gently told you, taking your hand off his shaft, which you were sure throbbed under your very touch. "We'll.. we'll do me later, yeah? I want to make you feel good." He continues pressing soft kisses on your body, enjoying how you shuddered merely from his lips, and how your hands went in his hair to give it a gentle tug.

Max's hair smelled like shampoo, soft and silky under your touch, as you had two handfuls of the blonde locks in your very hands. He hums in response, nearly bewildered internally at the fact that so little did so much to you, and made sure he'll make you do more than just tug on the strands.

When he got low enough, Max switched positions with you, his large hands setting you on the bed just where he was sitting moments ago — he got on his stomach, pressing his lips against the material of your underwear. The teasing came to a halt when he tugged it down completely, discarding it somewhere, and the sight alone made Max grow harder, his aching cock pressed against the mattress, and he tasked himself just how he'd managed to be together with someone so beautiful. If perfect wasn't the right word to describe a human being, he coined that term just for you, and you only, ever since he laid eyes on you.

"So wet, schat", Max exhaled on your clit, and you sighed out, the hot air from his mouth blowing right against your sensitive spot. Prying your legs open further and holding onto your thighs, Max dove deeper up against your clit, licking long strands with the flat of his tongue and alternating with the tip, then moving upwards to your nub, giving it a gentle suck. He wasn't surprised when you moaned out loud, but rather entranced — one of his hands left your thigh and got to rubbing the bundle of nerves as he lapped hungrily at your clit. "You taste so good, Y/N. So good for me, letting me make you feel this good", he groaned out, getting pleasure just from eating you out, feeling his underwear stain with drips of precum. "Fuck— so sweet, so fucking good f'me, so perfect, Y/N" — if words didn't make you feel anything, now they did, because Max's tone of voice was nearly desperate; not to get himself off, but to make you come on his tongue and face.

Out of instinct, your hips thrusted forward, something you've never done — Max's words have never had this much of an effect on you, not that they didn't — and his eyes widened in silent amazement, looking up at you with a slight chuckle. "Feels good, hm?" He gives you a teasing lick up your clit, looking right in your eyes as he did so, enjoying how flushed your face was and how your eyes closed as soon as his tongue made contact with the sensitive area. "Mhmm.. Max, please, I want to come," you pleaded, and he complied.

"Anything for my champion. Anything f'you, schatje⁴", Max moaned against your clit, moving down as his tongue penetrated your cunt, feeling how wet you were and how much more wet you can get, the warmth of your insides sending delicious sparks right down to his cock. "Y/N, so fucking good..." He hushed against your entrance, tongue then going in and out at a faster pace while his digits were working on your nub, thumb rubbing in circles until you couldn't take it anymore, screaming out his name and coming on his mouth and tongue.

The Dutch hummed in appreciation of his own skills, then looking up at your fucked out expression with a teasing look, placing one last kiss on your puffy clit despite your whimpers, still oversensitive. When he kissed you, his tongue sliding in your mouth to massage yours, you could feel your taste on his buds, and it made you ache yet more, legs closing in to squeeze your thighs from the overall sensation. Max noticed — he hummed against you, fingers going down to your pussy and then right inside of you, coating them with slick as they pumped in and out.

You broke the kiss through erratic whimpers, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations, but you had to admit that Max's fingers, now curling against your G-spot, felt better than his tongue, reaching so much further inside you — he breathily whispered in your ear, his other hand toying with your nipple, "You like it, hm? Vind je het leuk hoe ik je neuk, schat?⁵", and you let out an almost audible 'yes', hearing him chuckle to himself. "C'mon, Y/N, take it like a champ, huh? Like the champion you are. So pretty, my pretty Y/N."

Before you know it, you came a second time around his fingers, and the Dutch fucked you through another of your orgasms, then taking his fingers out of your hole to lick them clean almost obscenely, making a slight 'mmf' sound when his taste buds made contact with your juices.

"Think you can take me now?" Giving him a nod, he continues, "You deserve me, you deserve my whole cock, huh, liefde?", Max lowly spoke, his voice getting breathier as he takes off his underwear; his cock, aching and as hard as it could get, was leaking small drips of pre-cum, and he sighed at the feeling of not having his obvious arousal confined any longer.

"'m so hard for you, Y/N." He aligned himself to your cunt, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. "God, so good, so perfect — all mine, my champion, yeah?" You nod, but that wasn't enough; Max took his cock in his hand again, slapping your clit with it and earning a muffled whine from you. "Say it. Come on, schat." He encourages you.

"I'm... I'm all yours, Max- your champion, I'm your champion", you made the effort to sound self-reassuring, to which Max kissed your forehead, responding with a soothing pitch in his voice.

"You are, Y/N. I'm so proud of you. For everything you have done and for everything that you are, I'm proud of you, yeah?" He peppered you with kisses, slowly entering inside you, and you gasp — getting used to Max was a repetitive mannerism, as he'd stretch you out oh so nicely around his cock. You felt it throb as Max's balls hit right under your cunt, and he kept gasping and whispering in your ear about how much he loves you — and you loved him, too.

As soon as you adjusted to his size, Max started moving his hips, pulling out just enough to leave the tip inside you then slam back inside — no, the domineering, rough side of him didn't remain in the paddock as intended. Soon enough, the bed creaked with both of your bodies' movements alone — the wooden headboard of the hotel bed hitting the wall whenever the Dutch would thrust inside of you, deeper, faster.

"There we go", Max spoke in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, his voice having dropped to a mere, husky whisper — "Vind je dit leuk, mijn liefste?⁶" His hands found your legs, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kept fucking you, so sweetly but roughly, making sure you'd feel today's win for days after this.

You let out a shaky moan at the mixture of feelings — anger from earlier, dissipating in the overwhelming pleasure and sensitivity, as Max had fucked you raw through the build-up of another orgasm. Looking up at him, his entranced expression, how he looked so ready to let loose and fill you up with his cum, was so arousing, and you couldn't help but reach your hands to cup his jaw, fingers running around the stubble on his face; he gives you a satisfied, self-confident smile, mouth parting exactly when his head falls down, letting out moans of his own.

"Hell, schat, gonna come so deep inside you. Yeah? So proud of you, s'fucking proud, you deserve my cum, all of it, Y/N", Max gasped out, trying to maintain his composure just enough to praise you through it all, to make you feel self-reassured and proud of yourself. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a guttural moan as he pumped hot, sticky cum inside of you, filling you up — you felt yourself come around his cock, squeezing him of what it's worth, milking him until he couldn't come anymore.

His body fell on top of yours — he still had his tee on, and you were bare naked under him, both sweaty and still recovering from each other's highs. "Ik houd van jou⁷, Y/N. I'm proud of you, yeah?" You heard Max, although muffled from his face being buried in the pillow, right next to your head, and you smiled to yourself, one of his hands finding your hair to caress it, and your hands rubbing on his back gently.

"I love you, too, Max." Indeed, your win was worth celebrating.

TRANSLATED DUTCH WORDS/PHRASES

1 — schat = dear/darling, also translates as 'treasure'

2 — lieverd = also darling, word expressing endearment

3 — liefde = love

4 — schatje = baby

5 — "Do you like how I fuck you, dear?"

6 — "Do you like this, my dear?"

7 — "I love you."

#mv1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 #mv1 smut #mv1 imagine #f1 imagine

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 months

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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.

You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.

"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.

You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.

"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.

"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.

"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.

"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.

You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"

Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm. Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.

You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.

“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?”

Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”

“Huh.”

“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.

“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.

What the actual hell, Shoto.

“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.

“Yes, I am.”

You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.

“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”

Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.

“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.

He smirks. “I’m strategic.”

You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.

You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.

He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.

You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”

He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.

“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”

“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”

His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”

“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.

“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”

His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.

“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.

“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor. He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.

Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.

“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…

“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.

“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”

You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.

“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.

“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.

“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”

Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”

“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.

“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.

“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.

“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.

“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??

Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.

You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.

“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”

“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”

You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.

“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.

You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.

“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.

“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.

“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.

“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”

“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.

“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”

Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”

“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.

His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.

“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.

“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.

“Really?” He whispers.

“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.

You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.

Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.

You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.

You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.

“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.

“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.

After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.

“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.

He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.

“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.

He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.

“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.

He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –

A knock on the door causes you both to still.

“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”

“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”

The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.

“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”

“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.

You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.

“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.

Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”

You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.

“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.

“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.

“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.

“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”

“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.

Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.

Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.

Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.

“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”

“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.

As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.

Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.

You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.

“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.

“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.

“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?”

“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.

“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.

“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”

Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.

“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”

You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.

“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”

You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.

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PART 2

Link to My Master List

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zeldasnotes · 11 months

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SYNASTRY NOTES 2 💍

SYNASTRY NOTES 1

If you look closely you will see that people with planets in your 1st house and 2nd house always have some kind of physical reaction when seeing you. Either turning their head extra to see you better, or doing something weird with their hands, touch their hair or just start walking on the spot.

Everytime i hear someone say ” Ive never hated someone like I hate her/him” i always know there is Chiron synastry involved.

6th house synastry is so annoying when you dont have good synastry in general. The others person feels like this annoying bug always flying around buzzing. Especially when its a colleague or someone who lives close to you.

Also one of the things ive noticed with Chiron synastry is that one of the people just starts disliking the other out of nowhere and for no reason. The other person can sense this and strikes back hard because of how hurt they are and the war begins. This is why I stay away from Chiron synastry, because the dislike can come at any second out of nowhere.

Venus 8th house synastry can make Venus fascinated by the looks of the house person. Even if house person is not their type there is something intriguing.

8th house synastry also makes the two able to talk without talking. They can feel whats going on with the other without saying anything.

Lilith in the same sign/house shows that you understand eachothers shadow side. You might fight or manipulate in a similar way.

Mars in the 6th house can lead to being annoyed by the others presence. Common between colleagues who dont like eachother but have to see eachother every day.

Eros(433) conjunct Moon can mean you cant keep your hands off eachother.

Knight(29391) in synastry can be someone who comes into your life when you need them the most. You are protective over eachother.

5th house synastry can definitely lead to idealizing. Especially Moon in the 5th house.

Both the woman who used to do microneedling, chemical peels etc and the woman who did microblading on my eyebrows years ago had their Venus in my 8th house of transformation.

As someone with Mercury Square Moon I always found communicating my feelings hard. But i find it easier when I have 3rd house synastry with someone.

I prefer Moon trine Moon in synastry over Moon conjunct Moon. Moon trine Moon feels like sharing a delicious meal at a restaurant while Moon conjunct Moon is the same but the music at the restaurant is too loud and the food a little too spicy.

Venus conjunct Midheaven makes yall look so good together. I have this with a guy and for some reason we always match when it comes to clothes and body language which makes us look like a couple.

Venus conjunct Nemesis(128) can be a lovers turned enemies kind of relationship.

Eros(433) sextile Psyche(16) in synastry shows that the two will have their issues, but will mostly take eachothers side when they see the other in conflict with somebody else. The couple who hates eachother but still wont let anyone come between them.

Someone with their MC in your Ascendant sign might look up to you a lot.

You will find people you have 8th house synastry with as much more attractive than they actually are. And if you dislike them you will find them super intimidating.

Moon in the 8th house makes the Moon person so drawn to the house person that even if they are not attracted to them they will still want to have them. This aspect trumps physical attraction, morals, everything.

I do not recommend Venus conjunct Ascendant in a friendship relationship, especially not if the Venus person is the envious type.

Everyone I had Moon conjunct Psyche(16) with understood me like nobody else.

Which planet your Psyche conjuncts in someones chart can be where you understand them the most and what you have intuition about when it comes to them: Moon = Feelings, Depth, Why they act like they do. Venus = What and who they are atttacted to, why they dress/express themselves the way they do, their behaviour towards others. Ascendant = Who they want to be, how they want to be seen, their confidence.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #synastry reading #8th house synastry #synastry #eros and psyche

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scara-writes · 11 months

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orange juice

Beta Female Reader x Y! Omega Male

Beta X Omega I rarely seen those so why not. Let us make it more spicy by making the lead yandere. I still don't understand some concept in omegaverse so... I'm gonna make my own rule lol.

Just a heads up, grammatically errors incoming. Not proof read. Anything that is in this fiction does not meant to offend anyone. That is why it's called fiction.

CW: yandere, cursing, mention of killing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS SO I MADE A NEW ACCOUNT ;∆;)

"H-hello!" You turn around to see a familiar face visiting your spa. His pretty purple eyes were eccentric the way it brightened up when he saw you acknowledging him. It's the pretty boy you've saved last week from being pick on by the Alphas.

He was surprised that a beta like you actually didn't get intimidated by the presence of them. Well technically you did, but you pretended to be a police officer showing your fake badge and that 'back-up' is on their way to apprehend them when you noticed they were not buying your bluff at first, thankfully the Alphas that were hovering on him retreated. It was kinda funny they weren't intimidated by you until you held out a fake badge that could get them in trouble by their own law.

That idea was dumb but most people always fell for your trick, though you might get in trouble someday for the false identity which is why you only use it for emergency. Long story short, your aunt taught you this for survival in this dog water society.

At first, the pink haired male glared at you, you could careless about him since you were getting annoyed by the fact that they are giving a ruckus outside your spa and its driving away your customers. You don't want your boss finding out about this. The Alpha who guards outside the house is still taking care of his wife, so all the responsibility falls onto you the only beta employee present the rest are omegas because the other betas and alphas employees has different schedule. You were the 'strongest' among the employees inside.

You stare at the omega for a second.

The heck did you do? Why's he glaring at you?

You mentally shrugged before turning around to go back to your shop, not waiting for him to whether or not he should thank you.

A sudden angry shout from him made you pause from your tracks, "You are the same as those men earlier! I-I don't need you to save me!"

You turn to him with a deadpan look. "What are you on about?"

"Y-you think omega's are powerless and need to be protected, that's why you saved me, right?!" You can see he was quivering a little bit, his eyes are starting to show disgust look towards you. "Y-you think we don't need a jobs or—or we just need to sit still and look pretty—to be use like an incubator!" You can feel in his voice that his emotions must have been bubbling out seeing that his talk is becoming incoherent.

You scratched your head and sigh irritation, "Calm down dude. First of all, that is how Alphas that are 'leading' the society viewed omegas which is bullcrap and I don't believe in that, People who thinks like that need to check their brains in the nearby hospital. Also, I believe everyone can be independent and take care of themselves long as they can, I could careless about what the society says they can't control my life. True, omegas may be weak in nature against others but that doesn't mean all of them are weak or they are only used to look pretty for giving an offspring, they can be independent too if they wanted to. Second, you probably know how to handle them seeing you are very composed earlier but this loud noise is giving me a headache and my customers are leaving because how noisy it was. Now, If I offend you in someway well then I apologize. Bye." You gave him a small lazy wave before turning away not waiting for his response, quickly strolling back to your parlor.

So here he was, late at night. You in a closing hours shift since you are the only masseuse left in the parlor on work except your friend who was waiting for you in the employees room clock out for the work and playing, from the game he just downloaded in his app called something impact. Gin san impact? Gone wrong impact? Whatever it was you were hooked when you saw it earlier and will probably download it once you got home.

"Ah yes, welcome." You acknowledge him, awkwardly. You didn't expect him to meet you on your work. He trudges towards you requesting for service menu. You quickly handed him the said item on what were on the lists of your parlor was offering for customers, telling him to sit down while he read the list of services. He skims around the menu for a few seconds before pointing at the service list and you wrote it down; Shockingly, you witness the stranger you met a week ago was going for too many services.

"Oh umm... We are 2 hours closing in. So I think I can only do the first three." You told him. He gave you an 'oh' before agreeing he will try the others the next time when he visits.

"Do you have a partner?"

He was surprised at your sudden question. So you cleared your throat."It's.... In our protocol to ask our customers...and We know that it is personal question."

You can tell he was weirded out but he told you he doesn't have one. You muttered alright and went ahead to take the menu from him. You put them back on the rack as you walk pass him to put the sign close from the glass entrance before going to a cabinet to carry a towel and some thin white cloth for him to change. You wrote his room number and guide him to his room.

He stood up and follows you.

Through out the walk you can feel him staring at your move, making you feel a little tense as the walk in the hallway of doors feels like forever.

You twisted the knob before letting yourself inside first. He smiles at you and walk inside, you gave him the items you brought earlier telling him to change and knock on the door when he is ready.

That's weird, last time you met him. He was very resentful and now he was being smiley and friendly to you. You don't mind at least he was tolerating you for now.

You closed the door behind you putting on surgical mask since some others weren't comfortable smelling their pheromones.

You heard a knock and a small 'I'm ready' and you go in.

He was sitting down. His top were bare, abs were shown on his frame except for his lower part since it was covered by the thin cloth you gave earlier, you can definitely see how smooth his skin was—no scars just a little bruise on his left thigh which is something you definitely won't asked, you quickly look anywhere before he catches you staring at him. The towel were neatly folded along the clothes he wore earlier at the other table.

The pink haired omega was looking at you and he did caught you staring but you don't know that. A small smile escape on his lips. You cleared your throat and lit up three incense candles for relaxation and turn on a relaxing music, you went on the other side of the room where the sink was and washed your hands, sanitizing it using your own towel. You look back at him to see that he was still gazing towards you. He was still sitting, you assumed this must be his first time going to a spa or massage parlor since he should be already laying on his stomach or he must be waiting for you to give him an order since he ask for three different types of session. "You should lay on your stomach so we could start now."

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

You stop applying oil on your hand at his question before resuming again. "...both parties might not be comfortable when a pheromones were smelled."

"Oh."

There was a silence between the two of you.

"I'm going to start now." He nodded, doing what you'd asked earlier and close his eyes. The small round stones were place on his spinal before proceeding on messaging him with your oily hands.

The first few minutes were the same awkward atmosphere except for the jazzy music on the background, Both of your hand slides to his shoulders, wrapping around and gave a small squeeze. You hear him whimper.

"S-sorry!" You shrugged his apologize saying that is normal for customers.

"I umm didn't say thank you when you saved me last week..."

He continued,"sorry for bothering you with your customers."

"Don't mention it. I actually didn't plan on going outside if it weren't for my coworkers since like I mentioned last time you can handle them pretty well." You bit your tongue inside since you don't know how to talk back when someone compliments you or apologize to you. You only wanted to let him know that

He must have noticed that so he continued, "...I didn't catch your name earlier."

You answered him,"It's (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)." The way your name rolled on his voice makes your body feel a little bit weird.

"(Y/n), huh.. that's a weird name for a beta." You blink at him before chuckling at him. "You're weird. It's a normal name."

He giggled. "My names Luke."

"Your name doesn't suits you." You teased him before telling him to turn around so you can do second session.

He obliged scoffing at you as he lay back down on his back. "H-hey! Luke is pretty cool name."

"I never said it wasn't, I said it doesn't suit you."you gave him a smirk which he pouts. He look cute when he did that.

"The badge you'd shown were fake wasn't it?"

Ah shit, someone noticed it. No use of hiding it then.

"..uhh..yeah, I use it only if things goes out of hands."

The two of you talk for a bit laughing resuming the second session until it was time for his third and final session which is to massage his face.

"Is this your first time... Ummm..doing service for omegas?" His voice were small but you didn't notice he was anticipating at your answer. You hummed thoughtfully before answering. "Hmmm.. not really... I get omegas as my clients but I guess I would say this is the first time that I could finish my sessions with them."

He seemed confused which made you continue, "Ummm... Most partners of theirs were jealous and would almost instantly attack us, telling us that we shouldn't touch them, but we know that we were only doing our job as masseuse so. Of course, the customers paid us of any injuries or damage properties as well as others, we don't blame them, and it was starting to get out of hand.... Since, we don't have any other choice, we hired an Alpha to stop any ruckus. I would lie if I said I don't want to hit one of my clients' unreasonable partners."

"Oh..." You noticed his reaction when he got your question earlier about his status.

"He already went home though. He excused himself just earlier, his spouse needed him so we let him go now." You tell him. He must have realized there was no guard around earlier. Just you at the receptionist counter.

".. What's your thought about Alphas?"

"nothing much, regardless how some of them are uhh... unreasonable when it comes to greed. I'm pretty sure not all of them are all like that."

He didn't respond but you caught him rolling his eyes before closing them. He muttered something but you didn't quite catch it.

You slide and pressure your oily hands on his, you heard a purring, making you look around the room in confusion. Was there a cat somewhere?

You scan your eyes around the room for a bit more only to register that it was actually coming from him.

A little heat coming from your cheeks but you squash it down the feeling as it was inappropriate, it was good thing you were wearing a mask before he can see your reaction.

You didn't do anything about it and continue your work. Luke on the other hand felt euphoric, your hands were doing the God's work. He hasn't tell you what he felt when you save him from the bunch of alpha's trying to court him. He was grateful—no, he wasn't grateful; he was lightened up the fact you view omegas like a normal person and not dehumanising or infantilize them—considering you are a beta and has nothing to do with omega but still! He just felt happy that he wasn't the only one who has that kind of perspective.

You cleaned him up with a towel, you noticed his eyes were half dazed as if he was relaxed, you told him that he can now change back, as you blew off the candle and turn off the jazz music, washing your hands again and drying it off with your own towel. You put the other materials back to where they belong and look at the timer to see you over time. You opened the door and twisting it open to see your friend/co-worker.

He was pouting.

The pink haired male saw him through the doorway before you close the door behind you, and starts talking with your friend. His purple eyes realise he was an omega.

He felt a little pang from his chest.

"Hey, I thought you said you are going to clock out once it hits midnight~!" Tyrenn whined out. He tried to help you carry the items you were holding but you refused as the both of you struts back to the employees room, "He's the last customer."

You threw the towel and the cloth at the hamper before stretching yourself up. "Man, I'm tired." He threw you a bottle of orange juice and you catch it, twisting the cap open and drink a little bit before clocking out of work. You grab your bag and change at the changing room with your casual wear and goes outside from the employees room only with your co-worker. He tells you that you're gonna be excited on what he discovered on the game he played earlier while the both of you starts trudging at the main lobby where the counter was.

Luke was waiting, his eyes brightened up when you arrived. he waited to give you his money but your friend who was clinging at you took it from him, thanking him for accepting your service, putting them at the cash register before locking it.

He lick his dry his lips before turning to you, "Umm...thanks again. The service was great. I-I'll see you next time. It was nice meeting you." He smelled the scent of orange juice that you were holding. It was half full, there were some in the corner of your lips.

Tyrenn grabbed the bottle from your hand and you let him drink it as you start conversing with your last customer.

You nod at him, noticing he was a little taller than you. "Likewise. Should I call you a taxi? It's already past midnight."

He shook his head, smiling. "No it's fine! I live few blocks away from here." He put his left hand on his pocket while the other one was slowly pulling the glass door where he comes in.

"Oh, Be careful. I just heard that there was a serial killer roaming around this time at night killing Alphas. That doesn't mean you should be careless about it. You might never know when the killer change their mind on killing the others." You warned him. The pink haired male nodded again, smiling even more when you're worried for his safety. Tyrenn waved him a goodbye before talking to you again about the game he played earlier as he clings even more to your arms. Luke's eyes slightly twitches at the scene.

"Yes, yes I will! Thank you again!" He walked out of the parlor smiling. When he is few blocks away from the spa, his smile disappear.

He might change his mind on killing your friend though.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

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yawntu · 1 year

Note

Okie your right bestie now that your ask box is open you have to do the avatar guys reacting to spicy body piercings. Neteyam, Roxto, Ao’nung and Lo’ak I AM BEGGING YOU

/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡

a/n: Head so empty had to get this out though bc two other people agreed tongue ring was chefs kiss. We have a bunch of ancient cultures who pierced their tongues ritualistically so the Na’vi probably do it

Pairing(s): Ao’nung x reader, Neteyam x reader, Roxto x reader, Lo’ak x reader

word count: Little under or ~1k for each character

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Characters are 18+, Spice under the cut, all characters are 18+, proceed with caution. Descriptions of sexual activity, Alludes to fallacio, Sexual situations, Vulgar language. Inspecting? They’re looking inside your mouth idk. Spit kink (Neteyam), idk man if there’s something i miss lmk

꧁ Aonung: is no stranger to bodily modifications. He can confidently say he did not love the feeling of being tattooed the way some of his aunties and uncles would swear they did. He didn’t brag that he could fall asleep though the pain of ink being malleted security into his thick skin. Which is why for a second Aonung cannot seem to comprehend how his squirmy little girlfriend could have sat through such an ordeal, cringing at the pang of jealously that rises in him at the idea that others would have the same foul thoughts regarding the adornment that he has.

One of his favorite places to be is the netted hammock that sways outside of his marui. He enjoys the cooling sea breeze through his downed hair while watching the waves dance in the wind. Mindlessly keeping an eye out for anything that may intrigue him. It was undoubtably a good place to be whenever he found himself to be stressed or tired. Even better- it was a peaceful place to relax with you. He can agree to himself that he liked this spot even better when your legs straddled his waist and he got to rub loving circles onto your body with the pads of this thumbs while you joined in on his sea gazing. Its only when you shift on his torso that he realities thoughts had wondered past the words you were speaking. It was not often that you would loose his devoted focus, however, he realized he was not really listening to you as you spoke. Not in a cruel or inattentive way way. He did not mean to disregard you. He was just too distracted at the soft slur you give off. That was different. He has spent so long grasping at every word you said- every noise to fall from your perfect mouth. So he knows that there is something wrong.

“You break a tooth?”

He knows he is rude for cutting you off and even ruder for jostling you up as he sits up slightly in worry. Evident concern that you had fallen or bit into something and broken a tooth and that is where the slur of your words came from. That you were in pain. Though it had been some time since the incident, he remembered when Tsireya’s best friend had faced a similar ailment and his mother had been forced to pull the tooth from her skull. He shuddered remembering the ordeal, and hoped you would not go though the same pain.

“Nuh-uh,” you assure rubbing a hand against his soft cheek, eyes softening in endearment at his worry.

Your sweet boy is sitting up further to move closer to you in query when you greet him with the sight of your pretty wet tongue sticking out past your soft lips. The prettiest adornment nestled on your tongue makes his lower stomach twitch. You can’t help but pull yourself back a bit in surprise at the sight of his imposing form sitting up quicker then you expect him to. The natural reflex of your body as he adjusts your position in the hammock you were both meant to be napping on. Your movement only results in his thick calloused palms making a firm grasp for your cheeks, holding your face steadily in front of him for his viewing pleasure,

“Open your mouth.”

He’s bossy, and for a second you worry he absolutely hates it and will instruct you to remove it once you give into his demand. The thought alone is what keeps you from listening to him quick enough for his liking. Which is probably why once your lips finally start to part again his pointer finger is quick to hook over your lower teeth, pulling your jaw open so he could inspect you once again. Not giving you a choice in closing your mouth once again.

All you can do is peer down at his inquisitive eyes that seem to be judging the very ivory of your teeth and whine at how intently he is staring down your welcoming throat. He does not mean to look so incredulous as he inspects your wet mouth. Your tongue is swollen and the intrusion of his long finger has your salivary glands working overtime coating the little ball in you saliva. You look perfect on his lap, spitting all over his finger as it hooks your jaw wide open for him. He only removes the binding finger from your mouth when he inquires,

“Who touched you?”

You’re confused for a second, not realizing he means the piercing until the pad of his finger caresses the tip of your tongue careful to avoid the sore center. He can’t help but wonder what burly large man had touched your pretty fleshy tongue that belonged to him. He feels terribly for the anger that bubbles at the thought of said man getting to see you sat obediently, mouth open and waiting. He could only imagine what thoughts they had as your big pretty eyes stared at them while they made a new hole in your body. As if you mean to scorn him you only giggle. You giggle at his jealousy, and though it should vex him more he can’t help but feel soothed at your reaction,

“Your mo’ther,” you giggle and the material clinks against your teeth, and you slur over a too long bar that accommodated for the swelling.

It soothes him a little. His mother- your mother- had pierced you and not one of the men he had known with said job. Now the only issue at hand was the fact that he was sure other men would see it and have the same first thought that had crossed his own mind.

“It was for Eywa,”

The holy name cuts him from his unholy thoughts. He instantly meets your words with his objurgate simper that you’re used to. A unique expression that conveyed a playful scold that he knew was sure to leave you putty in his hands.

“Nah, you know better. That’s there for me,”

His words make your face flush a pretty shade of plum and you find it increasingly hard to look up at him. It’s endearing to him really, your cheek warm against his open palm. He runs the finger covered in your spit against your bottom lip,

“Ya, can’t wait till it heals. Gonna feel real good when you gag on my cock, huh tìhona?”

꧁ Neteyam doesn’t really care what you do to your own body. It’s your own body; how could he possibly tell you what to do with it. Besides the fact that he thinks it was cute how brave you were for sitting though it, he can’t help but find the way you toy with it annoying. Neteyam still thinks it has its own unique charn though.

Neteyam is too aware. It’s probably why he struggles so much to relax. Something always draws his attention, and he can’t stop his brain's desire to hyper-fixate on it. For this reason Neteyam is well aware of your tongue ring. In your defense he was aware of the adornment from the beginning. He knows so much about it as he was there as the sharpened point was pushed through you outstretched tongue while his mother howled in laughter at the way your tail extended out in shock at the pain.

In all honesty, he has rarely caught a glimpse of the jewelry since you had done it. Despite your loud mouth, the jewelry stayed relatively hidden behind your ivory canines. he guesses you just don’t open your mouth that wide. It’s a shame he doesn’t get the luxury of just catching a flash of the adornment. Instead, he lays here on an old roll-out woven mat, basking in the warm sun with you draped across him. It should be a calming ordeal. Yet you preoccupied yourself with rolling your tongue ring across the ridges of your teeth with no regard for the safety of the bones.

This is supposed to be relaxing. That was the point of coming out here to nap away from the intrusions of your families and burdens of society. As much as laying with you is meant to calm his ever-increasing nerves the fact that the clank of your tongue piercing gliding across your teeth in some sort of stim is ever present and driving him up the wall.

“Cut it out,”

His voice comes with a bite to your fleshy cheek which makes your eyes blink open. You pass him a displeased glance from where you lay next to him.

“Why? Am I irritating?”

You ask him so sweetly that if he had not been so sleep deprived he would have assured you that you were perfect and nothing you could do would ever vex him,

“Very. I’ll rip that thing out of your mouth,”

You laugh because he sounds exactly like his mother, yet had the same scolding undertone his father had often taken on. He is almost pleased with you when he feels you roll over half onto him, thinking you had accepted defeat and would settle down for seep. Relishing in the feeling of you tossing one of your legs over his waist and propping yourself up on one elbow to quickly cuddle against him. His sweet purr as you run your fingers through his braids swiftly almost makes you feel bad for the fact that you lean down to run your wet muscle from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his cheek. It is almost scary how slowly his eyes open. He cannot even feign shock at the way you play with him and his dwindling patience. It is ridiculous- you are ridiculous. Yet you are still shocked (and delighted) at how quickly Neteyam is hooking his leg around yours and rolling the both of you over so your back presses firmly to the mat behind you in retaliation for your annoying actions.

“Does being a imp bring you satisfaction?” He asks, though there’s no indication of real annoyance.

You grin up at him so pretty too, he can’t help but appreciate your mouth. The plush of your soft lips, and the shine of your ivory teeth,

“Undoubtably!” you chip,

And then his thumb runs across your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly so he can look at the red of your gums.

“Open your mouth, annoying girl.” he huffs down at you.

Though you intend to listen to him he does not give you the time too. Squeezing your cheeks between his freed palm until you have no choice but to part your lips for him. With your leg wrapped around his waist your foot rests on the small of his back and you can feel the muscles of his lower back flex as his tail flicks between his legs in excitement at the sight. As you loll your berry-fleshed tongue out for him he wastes no time in returning the crude indecency of your previous actions to you. You’re not dumbfounded when his spit lands on your waiting tongue, but you do jerk under him with a huff. Nonetheless, you are so good for him still, waiting for him to smile and give you a slurred go-ahead before you swallow.

Neteyam guesses he likes the stupid thing. Gives him something to aim at.

꧁ Roxto is shy. Not with normal people. But when you speak to him so pretty him he can’t help but tense up at the way his mind wanders. Especially as you sit there blabbering about your home in the jungle, she should be listening but he’s too busy eying the piercing in your tongue and wondering what it would feel like on him.

Rotxo is sweet. So sweet that he feels terrible for the way he stares at your mouth from where he is lent opposite on a thick mangrove root while you speak. Chirping away at him because you had grown the closest to him out of everyone after your arrival.

Don’t get him wrong. He could spend his whole day and whole night (and whole existence) with you. He liked nothing more than sitting pleasantly next to you or with his head on your lap while you spoke. He had been thankful for the fact that you had gotten the closest to him out of anyone you could have chosen when your family arrived at his home. He truly thought you were the most interesting person he had ever met. Perhaps that is why he watches you so intently. As if he is worried he will miss even a fraction of what you had to offer. He felt like he had known a decent amount about you. Knew you well enough that he could predict what you would say before you had even said it. Which is probably why he is so eager to get his question out.

“What is in your mouth?”

He just faces the nalutsa head-on. Blurts his question out; almost cutting your sentence off early. Once your eyes snap up to meet his from where you picked at stones on the ground. Your tongue is rolling out of your mouth in response as you stand to face him,

“This?”

Of course you sound silly as you talk around your tongue, but Rotxo is just looking at the modification. His first question is did it hurt, and you gave him a deadpan ‘obviously’. Despite this, you seem to be far more interested in this line of questioning than you had been while you were rambling. Ears are drawn forward in his direction, arms behind your back while your tail twirled behind you.

When he asks why you would do such a thing (despite having tattoos himself) you tell him it was a thing some of the more spiritual people of your clan would do. He could not help but feel a little guilty at the fact that all he can think about is how it would feel twirling around the head of his cock. How pretty you would look sitting on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to paint the shiny little adornment white. He doesn’t even realize that his eyes are trained down on you, and his tail sways between his legs.

But you notice. You notice the way he relaxes on his arms more. How his pretty sea-foam green eyes relax as he maintains tantalizing eye contact. The fact that his ears are drawn back, his jaw is clenched and his tail thumps slightly against his own leg, dragging across the ground behind him would be evidence alone of where his thoughts had traveled to. The thick bulging at the brown fabric of his tweng however seals his fate. You giggle at him. If all it took to work him up was a flash of your tongue then you will surely be the death of him. He is not even listening to why you had done it, what it meant. Ignoring all talks of salvation so he could look down at you and think of what you could only fantasize about.

“Ya, but you do not really care why I got it, huh?”

Your question catches him off guard, mostly because you are right and he’s too busy thinking about you to notice that you had once again begun to ramble. He is terrifyingly intrigued when your moving to stand right in front of him, head cocked up curiously at him, an amorous smirk on your lips.

“You just care about what I can do with it.”

Like the tease you are, you glance down at his hips. It is only then he realizes how tight the confines of his bottoms had gotten.

“You really are a devil huh?” His fingers are digging into the bark of the root he leans on as he huffs out the only thing he could think to say. He supposes there was no honor in hiding anything now- to bashfully try and defend the situation. That pretty tongue of yours sliding past your teeth to lick across your lips,

“If you want a vrrtep I can show you a vrrtep,”

Your voice is charmingly playful, and he can hear the click of the ring against a tooth. As your fingers dance across his lower stomach you’ve all but convinced him to be at your mercy with no effort. When you wordlessly drop to your knees before him he cant help the noise that ripples through his chest. Parts of him buckle at the idea of letting you be in charge and show him more of that pretty tongue ring but he can’t help but be honorable. Try to gain some sort of dominance. He thought he had gained the upper hand when at the contact of one of his big palms to the back of your head. The assumption was foolish of him. To think for a second he had the upper hand. The feeling of the cool material on your tongue sliding up his thigh has his fingers knotting in your hair and his breath coming out in huffs. He thinks it’s perfect- you’re perfect. He can’t wait to feel it everywhere.

꧁ Lo’ak doesn’t mean to not notice really, you were both so busy. You should take it as a compliment how hard he focuses on your eyes when you talk. But when he finally catches on that somethings different about you and you show him he can’t help but get too excited.

You were Lo’aks very best friend. In fact, you could not recall a point in life where he was not at your side while your gaggle of friends got into mischief. In all honestly you had spent your childhood following Lo’ak around like his shadow, and it is a habit that has followed you into your adulthood. You know he is plagued with an overabundance of energy and thus kept you entertained the best. Lo’ak was many things- emotionally aware, compassionate, charming, and with no effort made you feel alive. He’s probably why you were a bit of an adrenaline junky, and why you so eagerly agreed to the modification to your body after your Uniltaron. There was some reason behind the bleeding that you did not quite know if you cared about more then the fact that there was a cool piercing in your mouth.

Most importantly, you had hoped Lo’ak would have noticed the piercing quickly, however, the fact that Lo’aks own Uniltaron was the day before yours and he (like his father) had an intense experience, meant that you had uncharacteristically been apart for what you considered too long. Lo’ak had spent the days in which your tongue was at its most swollen (and thus noticeable) resting at home. Though you had been plagued with your own duties which made any meaningful interactions between Lo’ak and yourself non-existent since then. This meant that he just hasn’t noticed the new addition to a body he was rather familiar with. The lapse in time spent together was not something either of you had been used to, nor particularly fond of.

Which is why Lo’ak is blabbering to you wildly while you both eat your supper. You think he’s cute despite talking with his mouth full, and your dazed staring is what pulls Lo’ak out of his excitement and forces him to stare back at you. It is when he noticed you’re eating lighter than usual.

“Soup? It’s too warm for soup,” his tone indicates it’s an astute observation in his mind, “Are you sick?” He asks, reaching to touch your head. You snicker at him as you smack his lingering hand away,

“No, skxawng- you really hadn’t noticed?”

The playful faux sadness in your voice still barbs at his heart. It is quickly replaced with an indescribable feeling when you open your mouth for him and he’s greeted with a heart-stopping view. Eywa you were pretty, and for a second you looked like you could really be his- looking up right at him with your mouth wide open. It’s innocently possessive for a second, really he hadn’t thought too much into why he had reacted to the view in such a way. That was until he noticed the little ball perched on the center of your tongue. Like the little stones they found in the river mollusks they used as jewelry.

“Oh shit!”

His response makes you shut your mouth and snicker while your tail wags faster than you had been used to. You even turn your head in to avoid his ardent eyes. Though Lo’ak is quick to brace his hands on the wooden table to lean over and follow your gaze,

“I wasn’t done- hey,” and when he pinches your cheeks in his hand he almost knocks over your soup with the enthusiasm he exudes.

“You are acting like a fool,” your smiling half out of amusement, half out of pure inarticulate flabbergast at how quickly he had become interested in the orifice.

“Does it hurt?” He questions.

If it’s possible his smile grows larger at the shake of your head,

“Let me kiss you then,”

It leaves his mouth before you can even tell him how the pain has passed. It’s incredulous, how brazen Lo’aks words are considering his parents were barely out of earshot also enjoying their meal.

“Are you the one with a fever?”

Your voice crack is loud as you grip his wrist, and you make a note that you lean closer to him almost subconsciously.

“What? We have kissed quite a bit?”

In secret- in private- not when everyone you knew was right there, you were sure people presumed but you did not particularly feel the need to deal with the questioning eyes of either your families or your friends.

“You’re parents are right there, Lo’ak. I am not-” But his pretty wide smile cuts you off, and his tail swings down to snatch your swaying one

“We can go somewhere they’re not,”

There’s a snort in his voice like it’s the obvious answer. As though the both of you getting up and walking away together wouldn’t have drawn the same questioning gaze that kissing would have cast upon you, Eywa knows why you are dumb enough to nod at him. Quickly moving to stand up first, but pause when his tail stays wrapped right around yours halting your movement, and you look to him quizzically.

“You gotta wait a minute before we’re going anywhere,”

You’re confused. He was just so eager to be alone with you. How could he possibly be more interested in his previously abandoned meal? And how can he be chuckling at you- and why is the free arm he had propped on the table motioning towards the bench you both sat on and- oh. Thats why. The undeniable tent forming. A reminder why you so quickly agreed to be whisked away by him.

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar (2009)#aonung x reader #lo’ak x reader #rotxo x reader #neteyam x reader #aonung smut #lo’ak smut #neteyam smut #rotxo smut #avatar imagine #sacrilegious thots

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shegetsburned · 7 months

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | part i ‧₊˚ 𓐐

— ft. satoru gojo. suguru geto. kento nanami. toji fushiguro. ryomen sukuna.

a/n : silly hcs i made while I was starving and I hope it’ll make you salivate as much as me !!

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

normally he prefers to just eat what other people prepare for him, tasting his friends and students’ meals, most of the time.

but when he cooks, gojo doesn’t have time for shit, so I’m thinking of something simple but good. he likes to eat, especially sweet stuff. something sweet and salty, maybe?

he can do anything he sets his mind to, but is probably too lazy to cook most of the time, so he’ll just do the same two or three meals.

main dish; i’m thinking of teriyaki sauce chicken with some rice. it’s simple and soooo good. you can also feel the sweet taste of the sauce on the meat and it’s absolutely delicious.

you’ll have to close your eyes before satoru feeds you the first bite as he waits for your reaction.

i’m sure it’s sublime and it annoys you that he can always do everything just right. I mean, after cooking the same thing over and over again, everyone would excel, but this man has done it perfectly since the first time.

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨

man looooooves to cook for you. you’re barely doing the cooking when he’s at home and it’s delicious every time.

he’ll learn new dishes just for you and ask what you prefer. he doesn’t cook for him, he does it for you, to see your smile when you swallow one of your favourite dishes.

it’s not extra elaborate dishes, but it’s cooked with so much love. the presentation is insane and it’s always exquisite.

suguru will find a way to make an amazing meal with the few ingredients you guys have in the fridge.

he’s definitely the type to add his own touch to every meal so that it tastes absolutely divine.

main dish; maybe a spicy ahi poke which is a spicy tuna bowl made with fresh chunks of fresh sashimi and a spicy mayo sauce. despite looking like an ordinary meal, its lightness and flavour makes me think suguru would be the type to cook this for you.

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

i have mixed feelings about this man because he used to buy the same sandwich from the same bakery for years. so i have a feeling he barely used to eat, especially being so occupied with work and doing overnights; less experience in the kitchen?

but for you, he has a soft spot and wants to do the best in everything that concerns you, including cooking. so he’ll learn his ass off in secret and surprise you with amazing meals.

he often prepares multiple dishes for one dinner so you can taste as much as possible. this man is hardworking.

main dishes; seafood salad + vegetable stew + temari sushi (their presentation is adorable, you’d love them) + a bunch of meat and seafood.

kento prepares everything before you come home, living for the sparkles in your eyes when you see the delicious-looking plates on the table.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

honestly, he barely cooks for you. he usually just orders take-outs, and makes you pay.

I just know he likes spicy stuff. it’s always fuming hot when it goes into your mouth.

i’m sorry but this man doesn’t know how to cook. he just endures food or goes out to eat. i swear he doesn’t give a fuck about what he eats, as long as he thinks it’s good and enough for his belly to be filled, he’ll eat it.

main dish; instant noodles at best. adding canned meat and sriracha sauce into the mix. he’s lazy, okay? but who doesn’t enjoy a good old cup of instant noodles?

also, toji’s the type to shove the food into your mouth to make you stfu thinking you’re annoying because you’re hungry.

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

uuuh, is he even cooking for you, or are you the one doing everything?

i have a feeling he’s crazy about meat. he needs some in his meals at all times otherwise it’s uninteresting.

so if he ever cooks for you, don’t be surprised to see different kinds of meat, and it is spicy asf too.

he takes pleasure in killing the meat himself, loving the thrill of chasing and devouring his prey.

main dish; roasted lamb shoulder with garlic. a whole ass piece of meat for the king of curses and you. he’ll probably eat many shoulders to satisfy his hunger and watch you take your time with the giant meal he prepared while salivating.

he’ll eat you after.

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dayyydr3amm3rr · 6 months

Text

IMAGINE*

Imagine meeting Jordan's parents...in an awkward situation

***************

Warnings: sexual contact, Jordan is female-presenting during spicy times, girl on (technically) girl action, cunnilingus, Reader goes down on Jordan. Jordan's unsupportive parents, Jordan's favorite word is fuck. Must be 18+ for this imagine.

Things to Know: Reader will be female in this imagine

***************

"Good fucking girl..." they arched their back, pushing themself deeper into you. Their delicate fingers curled tighter into your hair, pulling your mouth closer to their heat. The words they had just spoken were forced out of gritted teeth. Shivers escaped them after every brush of your tongue against their clit. "Fuck..." they breathed out, bucking their hips into your mouth again. You hummed against their heat, looking up at them from between their legs, your mouth continuing its onslaught of tongue against their clit.

Their legs were thrown over your shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles of their thighs that were parted on either side of your cheeks. They looked down at you through lust-filled eyes. Jordan had been having a rough day. Their father had called and said that he and Kayla would be making their way down to GODU in the next few days. They never specified when—fucking parents and their lack of giving detailed info—so Jordan has been tense from the neck down. They had been snippy with you a few times, and you had finally had enough.

Jordan had been huffy all morning. They had woken up stressed, they had attended to Brink's every whim stressed, they went to class stressed, they trained stressed, they went to the gym stressed, and they came back to your shared dorm stressed. They were beginning to stress you out. Jordan had been pacing back and forth in front of their bed, ranting about their parents. "What if they just said that to get a rise out of me? I mean, it's been fucking days babe! And so far, they're a fucking no-show!" Your partner had decided to start off male-presenting, their tall frame towering over your sitting frame that was resting on their bed.

You were watching them pace, not sure if anything you said would help. "Maybe...Maybe they were lying!" Jordan continued, before nodding to themself. "Yeah! My dad wouldn't come all the way down here for nothing." You nodded in response. "Yeah. Maybe. If that is the case, then you've been stressed out for absolutely nothing." Jordan glared at you unamused. "I'm just saying, baby. All that stress over the past few days... can't be good for you." You pointed out. "Well, that's not exactly my fault babe! You know how my fucking parents are."

You raised an eyebrow and a finger, pointing it towards your partner. "Okay one, don't snip at me. And two...yes. I do know how your parents are. Even if I have yet to meet them..." you sent them a small smile, lowering your finger and nudging them with your foot. They were still uptight. Their shoulders were curled up to their neck, they didn't smile back, just grimaced in an attempted smile. You let out a sigh, dragging your eyes over your lover. They had just gotten back from the gym. They were wearing a dark blue sweatshirt with black spandex shorts. They had tossed their gym bag to the side as soon as they had walked in.

"Alright! That's it. You need to relax." You stated, standing before patting the bed with your hand. Jordan had scoffed at your words before looking between you and their bed in confusion. You rolled your eyes before patting the bed again. "Like I said; you need to relax. So...pull down your fucking shorts, lay down on your bed, and let me either suck your dick or eat you out so you can fucking relax." The surprised look on their face would have sent you into a fit of giggles if you hadn't been so serious.

They blinked in surprise, mouth hanging open. "You're...serious? Like actually? You want to give me an orgasm to relax me?" "I'd give you multiple if it meant getting you to relax and stop being so snippy." At your words, they had shifted to their female gender and lunged towards you, hands cupping your cheeks as they feverishly pressed their lips to yours. Which has led you to now. You between their legs, their fingers gripping your hair, scratching at your scalp. Your mouth was working overtime on their cunt. Your tongue doing most of the work.

Their eyes rolled back as they threw their head back against their pillows as moans escaped their mouth. They bucked their hips in time with your tongue. They were using you to get themself off—fuck that's hot. "Oh, fuck! Right there! Fuck...I'm gonna cum..." their fingers tightened in your hair, their hips bucking faster. You tightened your grip around their thighs, keeping them spread so you could continue your girl dinner. "Fuck-fuck-fuck..." Jordan hissed through their teeth, arching off their bed. You hummed against them as they came. Their legs trembled slightly from over your shoulders.

They twitched in your grasp when you didn't let up. They rode out their orgasm on your tongue, quickly getting overstimulated by your continuous movements. "Alright, alright!...Fuck..." Jordan had pulled on your hair strands a few times, letting you know that they had had enough. You unlatched yourself from their clit, letting out a giggle. "What? I told you I'd be more than happy to give you multiple orgasms to make sure you're relaxed..." you stated, letting your lips hover over their thigh before pressing wet kisses to it. Jordan used the grip they had on your hair to guide you up their body, legs falling from your shoulders and spreading so you could settle yourself between them.

"You fucking brat. You'll get what's coming to you." They murmured, giving you a small smile. "Is that a threat or a promise?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you took in their flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. "That's a fucking promise sweetheart. It's my turn now." They smirked, curling their fingers into your hair that was at the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to theirs, catching your lips with theirs. They could taste themself on your tongue. Your partner was quick to switch positions with you, leaving you on your back against their bed, with them hovering over you.

The two of you shared kiss after kiss. They yanked your legs over their waist, keeping you against them. They were quick to yank off your shirt and kiss down your body. The pants you were wearing were next to go. "Fuck...someone's eager." Jordan smirked, looking at the wet spot that had formed in your panties. Those were quick to follow your pants, finding themselves tossed carelessly onto the floor. Your partner was quick to spread your legs and toss them over their shoulders. They shot you a quick smirk before diving straight into you. The grip they had on your thighs was sure to leave bruises once they were done with you.

Their tongue plunged into your wetness, causing you to moan out, one hand sliding down to grasp onto one of Jordan's, fingers intertwining so that you two were holding hands. They ate you out like they were starving. They had you writhing and twitching in their grasp. Their tongue had you gasping out their name, squeezing your thighs around their head. It wasn't like they were complaining. Their tongue was switching between gliding over your clit and entering your wetness. Their fingers held onto yours with a tightness that left only one hand of yours free to run through their bob. They let their tongue and lips wrap around your clit before they sucked. Hard.

Your upper body had almost launched itself off their bed, having your free hand scrambling to push on their shoulders, on their head, trying to unlatch their mouth from your cunt. "Fuck! Fuck!" Your thighs were trembling and you hadn't even cum yet. Jordan chuckled into your cunt, grabbing your other hand that was lightly smacking their head into their other hand, now trapping both of your hands in theirs. "I told you you'd get what was coming to you Y/n..." they murmured, looking up at you from between your legs. "Now, shut the fuck up and let me punish you."

They began to tongue at your cunt again, not leaving you anytime to give them a response. They held your hands hostage as they went to town on you. They hummed against you, feeling your thighs tremble in response. Jordan used their arms to pin you under them. You were writhing under them. They refused to slow down, continuing to eat you out at a torturously fast pace. And you were almost there. There was a chance that once you came, they wouldn't stop. But you sure as hell wasn't going to be complaining. Your partner was an overstimulating queen/king. They knew your limits. And they sure as hell wasn't afraid to push past them either.

The two of you were wrapped in one another. You were lost in the pleasure being given to you by your lover. Jordan was lost in your cunt, their eyes taking in every reaction you gave them. You were breathing fast and heavy. Jordan could tell you were getting close. Your fingers squeezed around theirs. The heels of your feet began to dig into their back. Their name was practically the only word you could formulate. You were almost fucking there...your head was thrown back against their bed, letting them have full control.

Their tongue was carving their name into your cunt. Just a little bit longer...just a few more swipes of their tongue and—there was a knock at the door—Jordan barely removed their mouth from you to answer. "Go away!" Before diving back into your cunt. "Jordan?" Was heard through the thick metal door. It sounded like a woman's voice. Jordan had froze, shooting up from their place between your legs. Your eyes widened as you sat up on your elbows, looking at one another in surprise. "Jordan! It's your parents! Open the door." Was heard, this time by a male voice.

"Shit!" Jordan hissed, immediately springing up and gathering clothes that were spread out all over their floor. "Just a second!" Jordan called out, their male voice filtering through their feminine body. You never got used to them being able to do that. Jordan tossed you your clothes and you shot up, yanking them on as fast as you could. The knocking had become persistent. "Jordan! Can you hear me? It's your parents!" Once dressed, you both began to hide Jordan's more feminine products in various places. "You so owe me an orgasm after they leave!" You hissed, causing Jordan to let out a snort.

You knocked all of their makeup into a drawer while Jordan hid their various bongs and other drug-related items in boxes and their closet. You quickly stashed the many nail polishes they had before Jordan made sure their hair was in place before they made their way to their door, shifting to their male counterpart as they opened it, putting on a tight smile for their parents. "Hey!" "Jordan! How's my boy!" You cringed silently behind Jordan after hearing Jordan's father say that. Jordan's mother held a bag of Vought-a-Burger up as she too embraced her child.

Kayla had noticed you first. "Oh! Hello!...and who are you?" Her question caught the attention of your partner and their father. Jordan seemed to balk completely. It wasn't hard to see that they weren't sure if they were ready for their parents to know about this part of their life. You threw on a dazzling smile, holding out your hand. "I'm so sorry! I should have introduced myself sooner! I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N. I'm Jordan's roommate."

Jordan's mother was the first to shake your hand, a knowing smile on her face as their father gave a smaller smile before shaking your hand, obviously feeling suspicious. "They let boys and girls...dorm together?" Mr. Li asked, looking between you and Jordan. Jordan shrugged, not sure what to say. "Total mixup!" You saved. "We've been trying to get it rectified but as of right now, all of the dorms are filled so I've had to stay here. But, I assure you Mr. and Mrs. Li, you raised a fine young man...he's been nothing but a gentleman."

Jordan's father regained his smile as he playfully punched at Jordan's stomach. "That's my boy! We definitely raised him right." Everyone in the room laughed. Only two of them sounded a bit forced. "Anyways...why are you here?...not that I'm not happy to see you guys...but you said you'd be here days ago." Jordan asked, opening up the bag of food their parents brought for them. Kayla took a seat at Jordan's desk, placing her purse on top of it. "Well, your father and I wanted to surprise you! That's why we didn't tell you exactly when we were planning on coming down."

Jordan's parents stuck around for a few hours. They seemed to like you. Kayla seemed to realize that there was something more than roommates going on between you and Jordan, based on how you two sat next to one another and Jordan shared their food with you. Although, you had an inkling that she knew from the get-go. Jordan's father seemed to slowly warm up to you. You could tell he didn't like the fact that you and his son were roommates, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. When they were leaving, Kayla lingered, giving Jordan a kiss on their cheek before cupping it. She leaned in a bit closer to them, lowering her voice so her husband didn't overhear. "You make sure to treat her right, hmm? She seems lovely."

Jordan nodded, giving their mother a large smile. "That I can do." Kayla gave one more smile before officially leaving with her husband. After closing their door, Jordan let out a large sigh, slinking over to their bed tiredly. They shift as soon as they hit their bed, closing their eyes. You lay down next to them on your side, admiring them. "I can feel you staring you creep." They muttered, not opening their eyes. "Can't help it. You're just really pretty." Your lover gave a small scoff that sounded like a chuckle. You knew that if their eyes were open, they would have rolled them at you. It was silent for a beat or two before they brought their hand over their face. "Thanks for being with me...and for accepting me...or whatever. I...I appreciate it." They mumbled, hiding their face behind their arm.

You couldn't help the smile that crossed your face as your lover shared their appreciation for you. It wasn't very often that Jordan did that, they were a master at miscommunication and not sharing how they were feeling. So you always made a big deal whenever they decided to show you that rare side of themself. You pulled yourself up, throwing a leg over your lover, settling yourself on their stomach. Jordan's free hand came up automatically to curl around your waist. "Of course. I'd always except you. You're my person, and I love you."

You looked down at them as they slowly uncovered their eyes, a blush slowly fading away on their cheeks. "Aww, I made you blush and you hid it from me!" Jordan rolled their eyes at you, wrapping their other hand around you as well, curling their lips up in a small smirk. "Don't get too cocky Y/n." You tilted your head, looking very much like you had earlier when you first enticed your lover into relaxing just hours prior. "...I love you too...just so you know." "I know. You're my favorite person...just so you know." You teased, slowly leaned forwards, bringing your face closer to their's.

Jordan kept their smirk as their hands slid from your waist to your ass, squeezing the clothed flesh between their fingers. Jordan leaned forwards and kissed you, using their grip on your ass to grind you against their body. "What was it you said earlier? I owe you an orgasm?...I don't know what the fuck you're waiting for, but get up here and ride my fucking face..."

#jordan li x reader #gen v imagines #gen v amazon #derek luh #london thor #Jordan li

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blackhairedjjun · 9 months

Text

the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

pairing: choi yeonjun x gender neutral reader | genre / tropes: fluff, friends to lovers, reader who likes to cook, ft. friend!taehyun | word count: 2.7k | warnings: food, some profanity

author's notes: yeonjun birthday fic made it on time!! this was more rushed than my usual writing bc i was cramming it in between work, i've been super busy these days :'( but i've wanted to do yeonjun with an s/o who loves to cook for him for a while, and his birthday was the perfect opportunity to write it. so i'm relieved to get this out!

this fic has been cross-posted to ao3 here

the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

you never believed the sentiment yourself until your friend taehyun invited you to hang out with some of his other friends. at the first mention you had doubts about going, but when taehyun mentioned the word potluck, you just couldn’t resist 一 he knew it was a magic word for you.

you didn’t prepare anything too fancy, just a modest batch of tteokbokki. you love how comforting the dish was, from the warm and spicy aroma of the sauce to its soft and springy rice cakes, and it’s a safe thing to make to leave a good impression on taehyun’s friends. at his house you set your tteokbokki on the makeshift buffet table that he had set up, and pray that the guests would actually give your dish a chance.

you underestimated just how much of an impact it would have.

taehyun’s friends love it, but one friend in particular catches your eye. as he takes his first bite his expression changes, his whole face seemingly glowing with delight. his smile is so wide that he’s barely able to keep his mouth shut to chew, and he squirms in his seat in a little dance.

you’ve cooked for others plenty of times before, but you’ve never seen anyone so utterly transformed by your cooking.

“this is so good! mm, i’m so happy... this is so yummy, really... wait, who brought this again?”

taehyun gestures towards you. “y/n cooked it. they’re really good, right? this is, well, it’s their thing.”

his friend whips his head towards you, the wide smile still plastered on his face. it reaches all the way to his eyes, and you see the way they shine in appreciation.

“thank you so much for bringing this,” he says. “can you make this again when you come back?”

you’ve only known this friend for an hour or so and he’s already talking about coming back, which makes your heart flutter and your face grow warm. “s-sure, i’d love to.”

it’s a few months before you’re free again to come to the next hangout, and when taehyun reintroduces you to his friends you note the name of the one whose face lit up at your tteokbokki: yeonjun. this time you’ve brought some spaghetti cooked in freshly made tomato sauce, and again it’s a hit. yeonjun loves it as much as the tteokbokki, and when he’s slurped up his plate and cleaned up he thanks you profusely and looks at you as if you were a saint 一 the patron saint of good food, perhaps. you can’t help but give him a shy smile, and you swear that his cheeks turned a little pink at the gesture.

the day flies by in the presence of good food and good company. when you finally have to leave, yeonjun stops you for a moment; he meets your gaze head on, but the fidgeting of his hands betrays him.

“d’you want to hang out sometime? just you and me, i mean.”

“oh, are you sick of taehyun too?”

from the corner of your eye you see your mutual friend laugh and give you a sly grin. your remark seems to fluster yeonjun, though; he turns his head away to collect himself, which only makes taehyun laugh a bit more.

“i was kidding, i was kidding. but yeah, i’d love to hang out.”

“cool, great.”

“yeah, cool.”

you try to play it off but your heart pounds in your ears. and though yeonjun is leaning against the wall and trying to seem calm about the whole thing, his heart is racing just as much.

you don’t cook for your first hangout together (he brings you to his favorite ramen shop in the area, which also happens to be your favorite ramen shop in the area) but on your second hangout you make an impromptu meal by cobbling together a stew from whatever you have in your fridge. yeonjun devours it, eating every vegetable and chunk of meat and sip of stew with pure joy all over his face, and when he’s done he stands up to wash the dishes for you. you try to stop him, only for him to gently take your hand before you can grab a sponge. his touch sends a jolt of electricity right through you.

“let me do this for you,” he says. “i wanna thank you for the meal.”

“you don’t have to, yeonjun, i just threw a bunch of stuff together in a pot一”

“please?” he says with a pout. “you’re so sweet for making this, let me repay you.”

his eyes meet yours and you feel your heart soften at the way he looks at you. “okay, fine... and thank you.”

you hang out with him many more times 一 sometimes he invites you, other times you invite him. there’s always a bit of food to share, whether it’s snacks from the convenience store or a home-cooked meal by yourself, but it’s the little moments between the bites of food that make the time worth it.

one hot afternoon yeonjun helps you clean up after your ice cream has melted and dripped on you, and his hands brush against yours as he dabs an extra napkin against a messy spot on your sleeve. another evening you laugh when he spills some of his pasta out of his plate from too much excitement, and you tut playfully as you give him a bit of your share. on another day you plan to have breakfast together at a nice restaurant to watch the sunrise, only for both of you to stay up late and oversleep. instead you invite him over and team up to make lunch, and soon your kitchen is a mess of flour and breadcrumbs from the breaded pork cutlets you’re trying to make. you sing along to yeonjun’s playlist as you soak a piece of pork in egg, and next to you he draws a heart with the flour residue on the countertop.

you don’t know when exactly your hangouts cross the threshold into dates, but at one point you realize that things feel different when it’s just you and him around. the world feels smaller, the light of day feels brighter, and even the meals you cook seem to stay warmer for longer. taehyun catches up with you over text as usual all throughout, and when you tell him about your friendship with yeonjun, he simply texts back: friendship?

一

when yeonjun’s birthday draws near, you know exactly what you want to do: make one of his favorite foods, pho, from scratch. finding a good recipe online is easy, and visit to your local market provides you with every ingredient you need. it’s not the most complicated thing you’ve tried to make, and watching videos of other chefs try it out gives you a bit of confidence.

so why on earth are you so damn nervous to make it?

“i’ve never been so scared to fuck up a dish in my life,” you tell taehyun as you skim some fat off the top of the broth simmering away in a pot. it’s the day of yeonjun’s birthday and you’ve got another hangout (or date?) later that night, and taehyun has offered to help with preps.

“when you’re scared for something, it just means that you care a lot about it,” he says. he looks up from chopping the onions for the pho and gives you a nod. “you’ve cooked gifts for other people before, you can definitely do this.”

“that’s exactly it!” you say, tossing away the scum you’ve collected. “i made a whole pizza for your birthday this year, taehyun. i roasted pork for my parents’ wedding anniversary, and that should’ve been way scarier than this. but with yeonjun, i… i feel like i can’t fuck this up. if i think about serving him bad pho or even mediocre pho and him getting sad over it, it makes me want to throw myself out of here and go into hiding forever. i’ve never felt like that about anything before.”

“you’ve known him for a few months, not as long as you’ve known me. you want to show the best of yourself for him.” taehyun smiles. “that’s not a bad thing at all.”

“i guess.” you fidget with a wooden spoon as you mull over his words. he’s right, but it’s not like you wanted to settle for mediocrity with your other friends or with your parents either. there’s something else at play, but you dare not admit it out loud. (taehyun already knows anyway, you figure.)

you’re glad to have your friend’s company in the hours it takes for the broth to fully absorb all the flavors. taehyun puts on some of your favorite shows and helps you stretch to ease away your stress, and though you check on your pot from time to time, the two of you also prepare your space. he tells you about his own forays into cooking — he recently ordered a new set of knives that he can’t wait to try — as you place a clean tablecloth on the dining table and wash a set of bowls. his company grounds you and makes the nervousness swirling around in your stomach feel more like a gentle current than a roaring wave.

with the broth done and most of the pho ingredients ready for assembly, the two of you are waiting for the rice noodles to cook when a text from yeonjun arrives.

i’ll be there in 15 mins!

taehyun reads the text over your shoulder and grins. “do you need any more help with the pho?”

“nah, i’m good.”

“that means i can leave, then,” he says with an odd half-smile you rarely see on him. “enjoy your dinner with yeonjun.”

“thanks, taehyun. hey, wait一”

he picks up his bag in record speed and when you blink, he’s at your doorway. “tell me about it over text.”

“hey!”

he’s gone.

you’ve never seen taehyun leave your apartment so fast, and you suspect he knows something that you don’t. still, you don’t let yourself worry about it too much, not when preparing your pho should be the first thing on your mind. you check back on the noodles boiling away in your pot and let out a sigh.

i hope this turns out well, you think.

一

“so, y/n, what do you have ready for tonight? i hope it’s go一 oh...”

“happy birthday, yeonjun.”

whatever remark he was about to make fades into silence when you set down two bowls of pho in front of him. he’s entranced by the savory aroma, the steam swirling upward from each bowl, the noodles and thin slices of onions nearly glistening under the light. you see his lips form a perfect O, the way it always does when his favorite food shows up in front of him.

he doesn’t notice the way your hands tremble as you set down each bowl, or the way your eyes nervously dart back and forth between the pho and his expression. you wonder if he’s excited enough, if the pho will live up to his expectations, then you look at his bowl and think maybe he would like more noodles, maybe the cilantro should be fresher, maybe the broth isn’t salty or sour or spicy enough...

taehyun always said you’re your own worst critic, and you feel all the little criticisms coming in one after the other as you settle down opposite yeonjun. he does a little dance in his seat as he squeezes the lime over the bowl, then looks at you with a smile that lights up his whole face. “it smells so good,” he says. “i can’t wait!”

that’s one good sign, but nothing definitive.

“well, i won’t keep you waiting any longer,” you say. “dig in!”

“thank you for the food!”

the moment it takes for him to slurp up the noodles feels like an eternity to you. as you watch him eat, you pray that the first slurp was as good as it should be, that the noodles were firm enough. then he looks up from the bowl and at you, and you pray that—

he’s smiling.

it’s different from his earlier excited smile. this one also reaches all the way up to his eyes, but it’s laced with pure adoration. you’ve seen the way his face changes after eating good food countless times, but now this expression seems more tender; he gazes at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life.

you swallow. “is it… good?”

“good? it’s amazing. y/n… you’re so good to me.”

you’re smiling back at him too, and something blooms in you as you gaze back. you feel full of many things: relief, appreciation, affection…

maybe even love.

you feel it bloom as you watch him slurp on the broth and savor each piece of beef with gusto, stopping only to gush about how good it is and how good you are. you feel it settle in you when you dig into your own bowl, savoring the rich flavors of the beef and spices and lime that you poured yourself into, not caring when a bit of broth dribbles off your chin or a noodle falls off and yeonjun giggles at the sight. and you feel it grow in your heart when you try to reach for his empty bowl to wash up, only for him to take your hand again. this time you feel not a jolt of electricity but a wave of warmth.

“rest, you worked hard today. i’ll clean up.”

“it’s your birthday, yeonjun! you are not washing the dishes on your birthday.”

“but what if i want to?” he pouts at you and he knows you can’t resist. “or we can wash them together? what if i want to spend my birthday washing up with you?”

you sigh but relent.

you don’t dare say it to him, but washing up with yeonjun is… comforting. it takes longer than usual, but you don’t mind as he talks about the gift his mom mailed him or about his plans with taehyun and the other guys tomorrow. he tells you some pretty bad dad jokes and you nearly drop the last bowl you’re rinsing from laughing at how awful they are.

he’s still laughing as he pries the clean bowl from your hands and sets it on the rack to dry, and as his hands brush yours, you meet his gaze. he’s looking at you with that same tender look from when he first tried the pho, and your cheeks begin to warm.

“thank you for cooking for me.”

“of course, i want to—”

“you’re always so good to me,” he says. he takes your hands in his, and yours start to tremble; it’s okay, because his do too. “i’ve never had someone who treated me like this before. i want to… i…”

he falters and looks away from you, and you see a hint of pink spreading across his cheeks. he sucks in a breath and when he looks at you again, you move your face closer to his.

you don’t remember who initiates the kiss; all you know is that his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. he wraps his arms around you and you relax in his arms, knowing that nothing your ever make will taste as sweet as this.

when you break apart for air he looks sheepish, nothing like the confident friend you’ve known, but you love the way his eyes shine. his voice is breathy when he speaks: “i like you, y/n.”

“i like you too,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and brushing your nose against his. a second kiss would be even sweeter, and his lips nearly brush against yours when…

your phone rings and you nearly jump out of his arms.

“what the hell!”

it’s taehyun.

beomgyu i think hyung would be confessing right about now

oh wrong chat

hi y/n :)

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #bhj: violet's works

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machiavellli · 7 months

Text

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore: "Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

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