#accepting no criticism only compliments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

depravitycentral · 4 months

Text

Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.

And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.

And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.

And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.

(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)

Hardworking

Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.

And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.

He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.

He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.

He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.

(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)

Motherly

Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.

As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.

His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.

Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.

Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.

And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.

Pushover

This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.

Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.

Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.

A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.

He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.

They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.

Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.

But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.

He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.

The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.

(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)

He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.

(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)

He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?

It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.

It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)

It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.

(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)

It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.

(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)

He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.

(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)

It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?

His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).

Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?

Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.

Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.

It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?

It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.

Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.

You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.

You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.

They have to be.

And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.

And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.

You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.

Possessive

Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.

Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.

And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.

Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.

Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.

Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.

Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.

It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.

He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.

Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.

Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –

Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.

From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.

And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.

He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.

He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.

(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)

Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).

It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.

It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.

You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.

Dependent

He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.

He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.

Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.

He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.

He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.

Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.

He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.

He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)

He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.

He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.

He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?

God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.

Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.

He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.

After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?

He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.

As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.

And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.

He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.

He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.

It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.

It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.

You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.

Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.

His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.

As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.

He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.

Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.

It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.

He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.

His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.

You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.

The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.

Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.

His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.

Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?

Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.

(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)

Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.

Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.

It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.

You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –

You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.

When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.

What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.

But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.

And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.

He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.

Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.

And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.

(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)

Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.

He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.

And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.

There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.

In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.

He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.

And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.

(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)

He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.

(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.

It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.

(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)

All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.

Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.

That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.

You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.

So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.

And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.

And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?

He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.

He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.

The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.

And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.

Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.

Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.

Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you

and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.

You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.

Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.

Who did this?

Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.

It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.

Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.

Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…

His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.

Did you do this to yourself?

His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.

Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.

Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?

This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.

Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.

As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.

Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.

The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.

A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.

Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.

Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.

Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.

You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.

And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.

(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)

And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.

And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.

(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?

He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.

But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.

He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.

Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?

All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.

This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.

And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere enji todoroki #yandere endeavor #_lee's profiles #_enji todoroki #_bnha #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader

541 notes · View notes

zorrasucia · 3 months

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 6

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] Part 6: [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Jealous!Carmy, SoftDom!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Make up Sex, Sex Toys, P in V sex, Oral (M and F receiving), Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

You were in over your head.

Some fashion vlogger had recorded a video in your store, giving it a glowing review and it had been good for business. Maybe too good. The store was now full of stylish teenagers with baggy jeans and designer bags, you had a new hire to train, and a local journalist had emailed you to ask for an interview.

He showed up a couple of days later, tall with dark hair, and every bit as stylish as you would expect a reporter from a fashion magazine to be. You had shown him around, let him take photos, talked about your favorite brands and decades of fashion, and complimented his printed shirt.

"It's from the seventies," he commented bashfully. "I'm a little obsessed."

And he talked about his ongoing quest for the perfect pair of bell bottoms. You showed him what you had in the store and promised to be on the lookout.

"You know, it's weird," he gestured to the side, where The Bear was. "I used to come here when they did sandwiches."

"They still do!" you beamed. "The fine dining is really good too. Well, I'm biased but-"

"Right! Being their neighbor and all," he concluded. You simply nodded along - no need to let him know the intricacies of your personal life.

"Let me buy you lunch," he offered. You were about to refuse when he added. "I'd love to try their food but I hate eating alone."

You accepted. It seemed harmless and it could be good for the restaurant too - maybe he knew a food critic and would recommend the place too.

Richie guided you both to a table with a smile, quickly catching up with your plan once you mentioned the interview, offering the journalist a sampler of the menu.

It was good - the food, the conversation. It caught you by surprise when Carmy stormed out of the kitchen, something angry in his stride.

"Are you enjoying the food?"

It was a simple enough question, it was the way he said it-

"It's excellent, thank you!" the journalist said earnestly, which only seemed to wind up Carmy even more.

"Good, great," he rasped, then turned towards you. "Can I talk to you?" it was said in that clipped tone that meant he was stressed and he didn't have good news.

You followed him to the back and touched his wrist briefly, trying to convey how important this was.

"Carm?" you asked, your face wrinkling in worry and confusion.

"You mad at me or something?" he asked.

"No! Just nervous, stressed... I don't even know - it's just the interview," you tried to reassure him. "Can we talk later, baby?"

"Sorry to interrupt," the journalist had walked up to you without either of you noticing. "I just wanted to know - are you the chef here?"

"He is, yes!" you smiled, thinking everything was going according to plan.

“Carmen Berzatto,” he said without offering his hand, his frown furrowed and something deadly in his stare.

The journalist gave one look at Carmy and his face shifted from friendly to scared. "I'll give you guys a minute."

Carmy was burning holes on the back of the guy's skull and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

"What's wrong with you?" you whispered.

"That fucking guy."

"He's the fucking journalist! Are you out of your mind, Carmen?" you were losing the last shred of patience you had left. "I was trying to do a nice thing and you- We can talk about this later at home, okay? Now leave, please."

You turned away from him and didn't look back until you had paid for lunch and walked the journalist out the door.

"I'm so sorry about him," you explained. "It wasn't personal."

"Don't worry about it. I worked as a server once. I swear working in a kitchen does things to your brain..." he mimicked a spiral by his temple. You winced.

"Yeah."

"Hope he doesn't bother you again," he said, which made your stomach drop. "I'll send you the article when it's done. And you have my number if you ever find those bell bottoms."

He waved goodbye and you huffed in defeat.

Suddenly, you were being hugged by Nat, her arms around your shoulders.

"Did Carmy send you?" you asked, patting her forearm.

"Kind of," she let go of you with a sigh. "He walked in the kitchen and kind of lost it? I had to get it out of him. And when he explained, I came over."

"Thank you," you said softly.

"He can be an idiot," she said.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"He loves you, though."

"I know," you said, rubbing your temples. It had been a long day. "I'll text him."

You were pacing the carpet, waiting for Carmy to get back from work. You had a list of things you wanted to tell him ready to go: that making a scene like that had been embarrassing and hurtful, that he had probably ruined the whole interview acting that way -

Your train of thought and frantic pacing was interrupted by the key in the door. Carmy walked inside, a defeated look on his face, and every cell in your body wanted to go and hold him but you stood still, arms crossed while he closed the door behind him.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey, I, uh," he stumbled. "What I said... What I did... I mean, even Richie thought that it was fucked up so..."

He let it hang there, in the air between you two, keeping his distance.

"Carm," you took a deep inhale. "I need you to understand the store is just as important to me as the restaurant is to you. It's finally going well. And maybe that means I have less time for you. I need to know that you'll be okay with it - with me being busy sometimes - that whatever that was won't happen again."

"I know, I know," he said looking at the ground. "I'm happy it's working out. I am."

You tilted your head. "Then what the hell happened?"

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"It's so stupid," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I got jealous. So fucking jealous. I had never- I didn't know what to do with it."

You uncrossed your arms - you actually hadn’t thought of that.

"No need to be, Carm," you reassured him.

"I just-" he blinked hard like he sometimes did when he was stressed. "This tall as fuck guy, with the fancy fucking shirt, just being charming around you..."

"You think I care about that shit?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Carmy looked at you with wide eyes. "I'm an asshole sometimes, I cancel plans, my family is a fucking mess-"

"Hey, I like Nat!" you interrupted his spiral.

"And I think she likes you better than me."

You stood in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry. I am," he said in the end.

You moved one step closer and pressed your forehead to his. "It's okay if you're jealous, Carm. Just- keep your cool if it happens again. Please," you said softly. "I don't know if I can handle you acting like that again."

He nodded. "Promise."

"I'm coming home to you, baby. No one else," you emphasized, running your hands over his chest.

"Mhmm," he tilted his head, eyes closed, like he wanted to kiss you but needed your permission. You surged forward, trapping him in a tight embrace and a searing kiss.

It got heated quickly.

He cornered you towards the kitchen, grabbing and pressing, until you were sitting on the counter, legs bracketing his hips, hands in his hair.

"Carmy," you gasped, as he kissed your neck like only he knew how. His tongue traced the contour of your collarbone and you moaned.

He undid the first few buttons of your blouse, burying his face between your breasts, kissing and nipping. You carded your fingers through his hair, and crossed your legs behind him, keeping him close. The heat between your thighs was getting more unbearable as time went by. He started kissing down, like he would eat you out, atoning for what happened, but you didn't want that.

You pulled on his hair and made him look up. "I need you inside me," he exhaled shakily. "Now."

He took a condom out of his back pocket while you unbuttoned his slacks, undressing him just enough to free his cock. His hands went under your skirt, eager, and moved your underwear to the side. When Carmy leaned to start fingering you, you grabbed his wrist.

"I need your cock inside me," you clarified.

You didn't want the tenderness of foreplay. You moved to the edge of the counter, taking his cock in hand and putting the condom on yourself. You guided his head to your entrance and felt him fill you out. It hurt a little, your pussy tight and unprepped, and weirdly that was what you wanted now. You whined once he bottomed out and he groaned at the feeling, the sound making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck," you held him close, arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. Without knowing where it came from, you said to the side of his face: "Show me I'm yours."

He inhaled sharply, his hands shaking where they held your waist. Then his hips moved back and forth in one long, agonizing stroke. You moaned. Again. And you held him tighter, letting drowned out cries pour out from your lips. He kept going for a little while, the pace so slow that it made you wonder whether all his anger had fizzled out by now.

Except he started going hard, hitting that spot that made you dizzy. Your breasts and legs were shaking with every thrust. You covered your mouth to stop from screaming.

"Holy shit, Carmy" you mumbled.

His hands touched all over, scratching your thighs and up, squeezing your hips, tracing your sides, caressing your arms and holding your wrists. You shivered. His cock kept hitting just right, his mouth exhaling on the side of your face. His hand traveled south, finding your clit like it was second nature, thumbing at it in small circles, just the way you liked.

"No one can fuck me like this," you whined. "No one makes me feel this good."

His hips stuttered and he moved so that your foreheads were touching and his eyes were staring right into yours, you could feel the sweat on his brow.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you replied, your jaw slack as you kept panting and moaning. His pace was so steady that it felt like Carmy could go on forever. Then, impatient, you started thrusting your hips against his, making it go twice as fast, making him groan into your mouth and start losing control.

"Fuck," he cursed, grabbing your hips, steadying himself. "I'm so crazy about you."

"Carmy," you managed to say, desperate, your voice getting high, and your nails scratching at his scalp.

His free hand squeezed your breast over your bra and you slipped your hands under his shirt, caressing the hair on his navel, and up his chest, pinching one of his nipples hard.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned again.

You were so close you could almost taste it. Just then you grabbed his face with both hands.

"Tell me," you pleaded. "Tell me you'll never do that again. Tell me I'm yours."

"Never. Never, I promise," Carmy breathed into your mouth, little desperate sounds escaping his throat. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine."

He came with a strong exhale, drowning every other sound into your neck. His thumb on your clit kept moving until you joined him, completely spent, bracing on the edge of the counter to stop yourself from falling back.

He placed gentle kisses on your throat while you both recovered your breath. You clenched your walls around his cock, drawing a satisfied moan out of him.

"Did you get the guy's contact?" he panted against your skin.

"Yeah, why?" you replied ruffling his hair with your exhale.

"Thought I'd send him a cannoli or something," Carmy looked up from his place on your chest. "Make sure what I did doesn't make you look bad."

You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing.

"I don't think that's necessary but I'm sure he'll appreciate it. He said something about wanting to marry whoever made the desserts," you teased.

"Don't think Marcus'll be interested," Carmy inhaled deeply, his nose on the exact place you sprayed perfume every morning, though by now it had probably faded into a saltier scent. "When's the article coming out?"

"Couple of weeks," you hummed, caressing his back under his shirt. "We have time, baby. So much time."

You were leaning on the kitchen door, watching as Carmy and Syd posed against the counter. A photographer was giving them vague instructions about where to stand and where to look. She was also complimenting Carmy and hitting on him like she was getting paid overtime for it.

"Sydney, lean forward, yes, nice! Carmen, hit me with those blue eyes! Gorgeous, what a handsome guy!" she said with a cat-like smile.

The restaurant was going to be featured in Food & Wine, which entailed a photoshoot.

They had both started wearing their chef's whites, going for a more professional approach. Then, to make them more comfortable, the photographer asked them to change into their street clothes. It had done wonders for Syd, who was now showing off one of her mother's beautiful shirts with a proud smile on her face. It hadn't been quite as successful with Carmy - he had a tortured look in his eyes. Now he was standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, even more withdrawn than when they had started, every wink and cheesy one-liner from the photographer making him wince.

"Okay, Sydney, a little to the side. Exactly, chin up, please! And Carmen - why don't you stand this way? Yeah, let's show off those arms."

You bit your bottom lip.

"Carm?" you called him - he turned with wide eyes. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He nodded. "Sorry, excuse us," he mumbled, leaving the kitchen quickly, trailing behind you. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," he said, his blue eyes pleading.

"What for?"

"All the things she's saying..." he turned briefly, making sure the door was closed. "Fuck, I don't mean to-"

"You're not doing anything wrong, baby," you reassured him, cupping his face gently. "It looked like you needed a break, is all."

"Yeah," he exhaled heavily. "It's a lot."

You nodded. "The kitchen looks really nice," you commented to lighten the mood. They had done a deep clean the day before that had run into midnight.

"Thanks," he smiled. Then added: "This is a fucking nightmare."

You intertwined your fingers with his. "I think-" you paused, "that she wants you to look confident. That's why she keeps saying nice things."

"They don't feel nice," he bit his cheek.

You remembered how hard it had been for him to accept compliments for anything other than his cooking when you had first started dating. He would scoff and dismiss every word. Even now, sometimes it felt like he didn't quite believe them and maybe was just humoring you - which broke your heart. There wasn't enough time to unpack all that, so instead you leaned forward, placing one hand on his hip, whispering to his ear, flirtatious.

"Carm, I want you to go in there and eye fuck that camera like you would if it was me," he took a sharp inhale. "I will make it worth your while. Let you do anything you want to me," you promised.

He gulped. "Jesus," he mumbled, his pupils dilated.

You gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. "I'll tell them you'll be back in a few minutes," you said with a satisfied grin and went back to your place by the kitchen door.

"He went for a quick smoke," you lied to Syd.

When Carmy returned, he was in control, hands on his hips, like he had suddenly remembered he owned the place.

"Okay, guys, let's get this over with," he took his place next to Sydney, leaning on the counter and staring right into the lens, something defiant in his stance.

Your heart started racing. Even the photographer seemed affected by the shift.

"Uh, yes, good," after a few clicks she said: "I think we got it. Mmm, one more from this angle and we'll be good to go."

She led them to the main entrance to The Bear, Sydney crossing her arms and Carmy mirroring that same stance. They looked like they had stepped out of a magazine, modeling some understated and ridiculously expensive brand. Carmy looked in your direction for a second and licked his lips, before he turned back to the camera, unflinching and determined.

Another few clicks.

"Thank you guys, that would be all," the photographer went up to shake their hands and say her goodbyes. You were about to follow her out when Carmy took you by the wrist.

"See you tonight," he drawled and you felt yourself get wet.

"When I said you could do anything you wanted to me, I wasn't expecting this," you panted, your hands buried in Carmy's curls, as he kept kissing and licking every inch of your pussy. He was taking his sweet time too, biting on your thighs and going up to give some attention to your breasts and neck whenever he felt you were getting too close to your release.

"What were you expecting?" he asked, an amused glow to his face while he rested his chin on your hip, his mouth and nose shiny with your arousal.

"I don't know," you sighed, frustrated but so turned on. His hand caressed your pussy gently and you moaned. "Give you a blowjob, wear a silly costume, something like that."

"And are you into that?" he asked.

"I do like to suck your cock," you said honestly. Sometimes, with other guys, it had felt like a chore, not with Carmy, you loved to see him come undone, let go completely.

"See, the thing is," he kissed the curve of your hip, "if you gave me a blowjob it would be over so quickly," he exhaled right on your spread out clit which made you shudder. "And where's the fun in that?"

You giggled giddily when he squeezed your ass, manhandling you closer to his face, keeping his focus on your pussy.

"So you're just going to edge me until I beg?" you asked, half wanting for him to say yes.

"Don't worry," he gave a long lick, from the bottom of your lips to the top, making you arch your back and curse. "You will come," there was something dark in his eyes again, that same determination from the photoshoot back in his face - he was in charge. "When I want you to."

You shivered. "Fuck, Carm."

He started sucking on your clit, his tattooed fingers curling inside of you. You melted under his touch, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers.

"Please, Carmy..."

He stopped sucking, messing with the rhythm, keeping you hanging by a thread.

"You will come," he repeated, "when I want you to," the speed of his fingers increased. "As many times as I want you to."

You moaned. His mouth latched onto your clit, licking until you were thrashing on the bedsheets, his forearm kept you in place on the mattress.

"Fuck, shit, baby," you mumbled. Your gazes met, his blue eyes fiery. He nodded and you came in a blur, desperately grabbing at anything - his hair, the bedsheets - the feeling all the more intense for the time he had spent working you up. He kept kissing and sucking until you stopped moaning and started chuckling breathily.

"Just like that," he praised, something playful in his voice and you would have teased back if you weren't so completely spent.

He kissed the outside of your folds, staying away from your clit and your entrance, just worshipping the skin around them and you caressed his hair lovingly.

"You make me feel so fucking good," you exhaled.

He climbed up your body and kissed you hard, mouth open, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock, hard inside his jeans, grazed the lower part of your belly, it made you tremble in anticipation. "You gonna fuck me?" you asked between one kiss and the next, your hips lifting up to ground on his.

He clicked his tongue. "Not yet," he got up and opened the drawer of your bedside table, taking out your rabbit vibrator. "This charged?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

"Good girl," he praised and your hand squeezed your breast almost unconsciously; something happened to you whenever he talked to you like that.

He lowered himself next to you, held up by one arm; his hand teased your pussy, his calloused fingers spreading wetness around.

"D'you need lube, baby?" he asked, more out of politeness than anything since he knew the answer very well.

"I think I'm okay, Carm," you laughed and he kissed the side of your face.

"Mhmm. So fucking hot," he whispered and you felt the dildo poking at your entrance.

You placed your hand on the side of Carmy's face, your thumb near the edge of his mouth. He sucked on it thoroughly, then let go with a pop. You whined needily.

"Please, please, please..." it poured out of you.

He bumped your forehead with his, his gaze was intense and hungry.

"Keep looking at me," he ordered, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes open even as the dildo went all the way inside you and filled you up deliciously. The coldness of the toy reminded you it wasn't Carmy's cock - but he was holding it, he was right there next to you. Your face contorted in pleasure.

"Yes, like that," he encouraged you, his words tickling inside your belly. He seemed to be overcome just looking at you - it made you feel wanted, adored, beautiful. You wanted to make him feel that way too.

"Carm," you gasped. "I need you to know- Oh, fuck," he pumped the toy inside you, slow, so slow. "I need you to know," you repeated through the fog of pleasure, "all those things the photographer said. They're true. Oh, my God, baby," his expression softened even as he buried the dildo deep inside you. "Your eyes are beautiful," another thrust, you caressed his face. "Your arms are so hot," you held onto the arm that was fucking you, squeezing the muscle there. "Shit. You're handsome, gorgeous, fucking- oh!" you blurted all at once, turning the compliments into moans. "I swear - fuck!" you held his gaze. "Can't believe you're mine."

He leaned forward, kissing you tenderly, swallowing your moans.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you," you replied, a choked out sound leaving your lips.

He turned on the vibration and watched you lose control, becoming desperate with lust, thrusting your hips wildly. He kept you there a bit longer than necessary, torturing you a little with how long he was drawing it out. It was so good, so fucking good.

"Carmy. Please," you begged.

"I know, I know," he soothed. "You're doing so good."

It sent a shiver down your spine and made the very last thread inside you snap.

"Oh," you exhaled, coming harder than you ever had, scratching at his forearm, screaming into the skin of his shoulder.

"Sound so nice," Carmy mumbled, looking as pussy drunk as a man could be without actually fucking one. "Baby, baby, baby."

You stayed there for a while, the dildo still inside you, and Carmy's hands touching your waist tenderly while you kissed.

After a long while of that, he got up from the bed, and started getting undressed while you watched. You bit your lip and put your head on your hand, enjoying the sight. He caught you staring.

"You really meant all those things you said," it began as a statement and ended as a question, Carmy's voice going up slightly.

"Every word," you said, taking out the dildo as Carmy showed you his cock. You licked your lips. "D'you mind? Me saying things like that?"

You wanted him to be confident but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

He shook his head. "I liked it," he admitted. He stood right by you, beside the bed, fiddling with the condom he had retrieved from your drawer. "Made me feel good."

"I'm glad, Carm," you reached out to caress his leg, following the line of muscle there. Saying he was beautiful once while you fucked wasn't going to change his mind, but you were willing to keep trying.

In the meantime, you could show him. Even with the exhaustion of everything Carmy had done to you, you wanted him inside you, wanted to see him roll his eyes in ecstasy. You crawled to where he was, kneeling, near the edge of the mattress. His cock was hard, pulsing, and it made your mouth water. He stood still, dropped the condom on the mattress, probably guessing what you were about to do.

When you were an inch away from his cock, he pulled your hair and stopped you.

He gestured at the vibrator. "Put that back inside you," he said in that demanding voice and you rushed to do as he said, only uttering a small moan when you had it inside you. He leaned over, tracing a long line from your neck to your ass, reaching to turn it back on on the lowest setting. You writhed a little but after a moment of adjusting to the feeling you were able to stay still and look at Carmy.

"Good girl," he said again and you keened, leaning forward to suck his dick. The sound he made once your mouth was on him was heavenly. "Holy fuck."

His hands were tangled in your hair and you wished you could deep throat without choking, just to watch him lose his mind completely. You settled for going as far as you could, getting every inch of him slick with saliva, making him groan and sweat. You looked up, his eyes were white and his face was flushed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to breathe. You hummed with satisfaction and that woke up his competitive streak.

He pulled on your hair lightly. "Gimme a second," he panted. You thought he needed a breather, but he actually moved to turn the vibrator up a couple of notches. You trembled and reached for his ass, bracing, leaving red scratch marks on the tender skin.

"Fuck, baby," you said between moans. "Not fucking fair."

"Mhmm," he smirked, caressing your scalp. It took all your willpower and concentration but you moved forward and went back to sucking his cock, feeling a pang of pride as he threw his head back and uttered some curse you couldn't quite decipher.

The vibrator set a pace you could follow, rocking forward as it pulsed, letting you give Carmy pleasure while you were ridiculously close to losing your mind yourself.

"Shit, baby," he gasped, his knees buckling for a second. "Make me feel- Fuck, y're so good, so good," he mumbled.

The steady pace of the vibrator was building up a tense knot inside you - you were close, and so it became a race of making Carmy come before you did. You doubled your efforts, speeding up, hollowing your cheeks, moaning into his skin.

"You're fucking killing me," he growled, pulling on your hair just the way you liked it, making you roll your eyes as you sucked on his length. You were completely overwhelmed; you couldn't help but whine over and over. "Holy fuck."

He stared right onto your eyes as he came. He had told you he didn't mind if you spit his cum but sometimes you felt like drinking it all, consumed with lust - today was one of those times. You stayed there, licking his slit, caressing his balls until he pulled you away.

"Fuck, baby," he sighed, kneeling on the carpet to look at you.

He was completely wrecked: face red and sweaty, hair messier than you had ever seen it and a glazed look in his eyes. He tilted his head to kiss you thoroughly, tasting the cum leftover on your tongue. You could finally let go. You put your hand between your belly and the mattress, maneuvering the vibrator so it hit right where you needed it and you came immediately, kissing Carmy, biting on his lips, and humping on the bed. It was too much and just enough.

Carmy helped you take it out once you started whining from feeling sore. He moved your body to lie comfortably on the bed, your head on the pillow and him next to you.

"Fucking insane," he exhaled. You chuckled in agreement, fucked out senseless. "D'you need anything?" he asked gently after a moment.

You shook your head, raising a hand to caress his face.

"I feel perfect, Carm."

You moved your index finger, tracing the contour of his eyebrows, the line of his nose, and the curve of his cheekbone.

“Pretty,” you managed to say.

He smiled and brought you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, his arms around making you feel safe.

[Part 7]

@th3h0nkz

#me; looking at a calvin klein billboard: how are we feeling ladies?! 🥵#carmy berzatto smut #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction

302 notes · View notes

ryker-writes · 1 year

Note

To add more angst to your Sibling Vil headcanons, what's if the reader is the one who overblots instead of Vil, after he basically ruins their confidence and realizes Vil has some resentment toward them? Revealing in their overblot form that they never even wanted to be famous and only did it for Vil's approval

yesss the angst I live for it!

For those who didn't see the original post you can fine it here. (Let me know if link doesn't work)

Vil's broken sibling relationship (alternate ending)

when Vil did hang out with you, he would always point out some small thing about you that was out of place

even if you had everything together, he would find something to criticize

afterwards he would always make a comment about how you should be careful because your actions reflect on him and your father

sometimes he would even give you a backhanded compliment or when he was especially angry, he would straight up insult you and claim he's trying to help you

it became very clear that Vil hated you

hated how you acted and how you looked

you two used to get along

he even helped you become who you were today

when you were young, he would always help you with how to act or how to look right for all the cameras

he carefully help you and taught you back then

but now he was openly insulting you and hating you

according to Vil, you were many things

you were an idiot for not being able to understand or see the simplest things

you were naïve and stupid for not realizing that your friends only liked you because of your fame

you were annoying

you were lazy

you were ugly

your own brother said all this to you

the only person you thought you could truly rely on, hated you

maybe he was right about you

maybe all those things were true

everyone else probably say you like that

now it was so much easier to pay attention to all the negative publicity you got

Vil was right

you wish it wasn't him that said it, but he was right

it's safe to say that your confidence wasn't doing too great lately

and as you walked through the school halls, it felt like everyone was watching you with criticizing eyes

like they were just waiting for you to embarrass yourself

and when you did, they would be watching, recording, and laughing

so lost in your own thoughts, you weren't paying much attention to where you were going

and you ran into him

your dear brother who hated everything about you

of course, he started criticizing you again

and in front of everyone

"Looks like you're even worse than I thought if you can't even pay attention to where you're walking. You look more unsightly today than usual. You really can't get anything right can you?"

the students around you two started whispering, some even snickered

they were talking about you

you could just tell

it was too much

everything they were saying was too much

you couldn't be here

not with them, not with Vil

you backed away from Vil with tears in your eyes

and you looked directly at him

the cold and uncaring expression clear on his face

thinking back on it, did he ever even care?

was he only ever helping you because your father was forcing you two to be in the spotlight

did he only help you because he couldn't be seen next to someone so hideous?

how horrible it all was

your life, your image, your thoughts, you

for just one moment you wished they would all stop talking, stop talking about you

without even thinking you sent one spell, a simple spell, in Vil's general direction

and that was enough

enough for the air to suddenly feel so thin and an overwhelming sense of dread flooded through you

the world seemed darker

like someone had dimmed everything down

but the whispers got louder and louder until it turned into shouting

they all hated you

it was clear

you just had to accept and give in

Vil was right

you could feel liquid running down your cheeks

reaching up, you went to wipe away the tears

but when you pulled your hand back, you saw black

those weren't really tears

it was blot covering your hand

and it wouldn't stop running down your cheeks like a river that never ends

it ran down your hands and even covered your arms

you could feel it run along your skin and even drip down to the ground

but none of that even mattered right now

Vil stood in front of you now looking shocked

everyone else scrambled to get away from you

of course they did

"You should be proud, Vil. They all love you, and would never run away from you."

he pulled out his magical pen

"You're even incredibly stupid when you overblot. You can't even see how much they love you more than me. They've said that you're the most beautiful. You don't even work that hard and you get amazing opportunities. Meanwhile spend every hour of every day trying to be the best."

looking down at yourself, you could see that your clothes have even changed

beautifully designed clothes were in the place of your old ones

drops of blots swirled down your clothes, and somehow made them look nicer

Vil said they called you the most beautiful, but he's also told you how ugly you were in the past

how could he suddenly change his words like that

they obviously didn't like you that much

they constantly talk and even now avoid you

it made you angry

Vil has been nothing but cruel to you

you couldn't control it

and you lashed your magic at him

he was able to dodge some of your attacks and even started attacking you

your anger just kept building up

"Are you serious? You made me like this. You helped guide me when we were younger. I never even wanted any of those roles! I never wanted to live like this!"

you sent a particularly strong attack his way and he took it full force

Vil staggered back, disheveled and wounded from the fight so far

but your attacks just kept coming and only grew in intensity

"All I ever wanted was for you to just accept me, to like me. But ever since we started growing up you've done nothing but hate me."

it was getting harder to see and hear what was happening

ink plagued all your senses

and all you felt was anger

when you next opened your eyes, everything was blurry for a second

your body felt weak and it hurt to even move

but when your vision cleared, you could see that you were in the school infirmary

and sitting next to your bed was Vil

he seemed to notice you were awake

"How are you feeling?"

despite his calm tone, Vil looked rough

still beautiful as always, but a well trained eye could see the way his hair was slightly out of place and makeup ever so slightly smudged in the corners

he had been here a while

once again you could feel water run down your cheeks

you quickly reached up to wipe it away and looked at your hands

it was actual water this time, not blot

Vil sighed and grabbed your hand

"I'm sorry."

a heavy silence hung in the air afterwards

a million things that he wanted to say

things he needed to say

but right now, he couldn't find the words

so Vil promised himself that he would be able to tell you everything and that he'd do everything he can to try to fix what both he and his father had broken

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst vil #vil schoenheit #twst vil x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil angst

1K notes · View notes

nochukoo97 · 7 months

Text

boyfriend drabbles (pt.30)

pairing: jungkook x oc

summary: the one where you’re jungkook’s pillar of support

word count: 700+

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

You watch from the corner of the practice as your boyfriend huffs in frustration for the third time within the last five minutes. The current dance routine he had been learning consisted of complex and intricate moves causing his patience to be tested. Jungkook’s once enthusiastic and confident demeanour was now replaced by his furrowed eyebrows and slumped shoulders.

Jungkook always took great pride in what he did, making sure that he gave his 100% effort, that he perfected and learnt things quickly. Yet this same trait your boyfriend carried came with its downsides.

Today was a clear example of how affected Jungkook was whenever he did not pick stuff up as quickly as he normally would, or if it took more correction than usual for him to perfect a dance move.

His dance teacher, noticing his growing frustration, steps in with a reassuring pat on the back and encourages Jungkook to take a short break and hydrate. Jungkook nods in acknowledgment and wearily makes his way over to where you're sitting. You offer him a sympathetic smile as you hand him his water bottle, watching as he slumps down beside you and lets out another sigh of frustration.

“It’s okay,” You whisper, reaching out to swipe a strand of hair away from his face, “You’re frustrated, don’t be too hard on yourself,”

Jungkook shakes his head, clearly too engrossed in his frustration to fully absorb your comforting words. As appreciative as he is of your support, he finds it difficult to accept it when he's in this state of mind.

“I don’t know what’s up with me today,” He confesses with a sigh, “I was fine and making good progress yesterday,”

Your eyes fill with concern as his head hangs low, his distress evident. Jungkook has always been his harshest critic, and the weight of public expectations only adds to the pressure he places on himself.

“You wanna take a breather outside? Maybe some fresh air can clear your mind a little,” You offer him, stretching a hand out.

He doesn’t say much, only hums in response as he links his hand with yours, standing up and walking with you out the practice room.

When the both of you reach the outdoor area on the floor of the building, your boyfriend reaches into his pocket and fetches out a familiar box.

He pulls a cigarette out and lights it. You shoot him a warning glance, but he meets your gaze with a softened expression.

“Promise this is the only one, just need some relief,” He assures you, and you reluctantly grant him this concession.

As you chat about your day, Jungkook opens up more about his frustrations, and you listen attentively, offering your thoughts and support. You watch as he takes another drag from the cigarette, turning his head to avoid blowing the smoke in your direction.

Finally, you decide it's enough, gently taking the cigarette from his hand and extinguishing it on the ground before stomping it out. Jungkook doesn't protest, instead pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you.

“Ready to go back?” You ask after a period of silence, head tilting up to meet his gaze.

Jungkook nods, quickly leaning down to softly peck your lips, whispering, “Thank you,” He offers a small smile before linking his hand with yours, heading back in.

Throughout the rest of his dance practice, Jungkook definitely felt better, although the pace was still slower than usual, your subtle reminders and gestures to him pushed him through it.

“You did well today,” You praise as he sits panting next to you on the floor, letting you use a cloth to wipe the sweat away from his face. His eyes light up at the compliment, leaning towards you to kiss you affectionately.

“All thanks to you,” He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “Or else I might have just fallen apart,”

A genuine laugh escapes his mouth, contrasting to his earlier frustrations. You make it a point to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and offer a warm smile.

“When we go back we can take a long bath together?” You offer, and Jungkook immediately lights up at the offer, nodding enthusiastically as he grabs his bags and packs up, making you chuckle at his antics.

taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere @laylasbunbunny @borahaexoxo @jklvrs-world

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts ff #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios

653 notes · View notes

luvfy0dor · 12 days

Note

Ahemm can I request s Fyodor x reader whos also russian but speaks better Japanese then him (i find it funny he's bad at learning Japanese) ♡

“Trust Me, Mine is Better ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Japanese, cursing, not proofread

Description; Fyodors partner is also Russian, but is better with speaking Japanese and learned faster, so his partner helps him out

A/n; I wanna have a study date w him so bad omg 3:

• He'd be a teeny bit passive about it to be honest, but all in all he'd be proud of you. It's not often that he comes across someone who's better than him at anything intellectual.

ೃ⁀➷

Being in Japan with your boyfriend was lovely when he wasn't out being a terrorist. He loved to sight see whenever he left your homeland of Russia, but directions weren't his forte, nor was the Japanese language. You were able to speak it rather fluently though. You didn't have much of an accent to begin with, but however much of an accent you did have immediately disappeared when you opened your mouth to speak Japanese. He couldn't help but feel a little jealousy bubble in his chest when you could fluently speak with a random stranger in the street to ask which way something was, but he hid it well. As a matter of fact, he'd praise you.

"すみません、地下鉄の駅はどこですか?" (where is the subway station?) You asked when you stopped a man in the street, looking for a way home with your boyfriends hand in your own. You could almost feel Fyodors subtle glare gently burning through your skin like corrosives while you listened to the guy pointing you in the right direction. “ありがとう!" (Thank you) You say, giving a small nod of appreciation and leading Fyodor in the direction you were given. "Wow, Moya Lyubov, it's like you get better at speaking Japanese every day. Even your writing improves just as rapidly." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly and you gratefully accepted his compliments, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Thank you, yours does too. It's nice that we're both learning Japanese, so we can help eachother out." You say, looking at the street ahead of you, heading down a flight of stairs to a subway station.

"You sound like you're past simply learning." He says lightheartedly, a small smile on his face. You look over to him and nod. "I mean, I can get around, but I still have so much to learn and that's okay- Fedya, oh my gosh! We could have cute study dates together!! A lot of people do stuff like that in highschool or college, but since we were never together during either of those, we could do, like, a mock-study date." You say, excited by your new, groundbreaking idea. He seems amused by your enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. “I wouldn't mind being taught how to speak and write better as long as it's by you. Other people are much more condescending and teasing." He says. You could only imagine he was referring to Nikolai after watching him show the clown a paper with large Japanese symbols written on the paper, to which Nikolai started giggling and asked him what the fuck it was supposed to be.

Needless to say that was the last time Fyodor turned to Nikolai for constructive criticism, he wrote him off as unhelpful in this manner. Instead he'd only get it from native speakers or people who are, in his eyes, fluent in the language. They could give him real advice. But since you were proposing a study date with him where he could get constructive advice from you and do some more learning of the language in his own way, there was no reason to pass that opportunity up. You both agreed on the next evening after he got home from a DOA meeting, and it was more than pleasant. You both laid in each other's presence, practicing your writing, doing Duolingo lessons here and there, and etc. You eventually got bored, craving your lovers attention instead of knowledge. You leaned over and brushed his hair away from his face before whispering into his ear. “キスしてもいいですか?" His eyebrows furrow and his head turns to face you.

"Can you what?" His words are slightly slurred together with his accent and sleepiness. His lips are pink and clearly chewed with focus and frustration and his eyelids are droopy. "Can I kiss you?" You repeat in English. His eyes widen and he grins, reaching out to cup your face, pulling you in. "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Moya Lyubov." He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet yours, moving them together and rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You entangle your fingers in his hair and part, taking a quick breath of air and resting your forehead against his. "I know, I just figured I'd give you a new phrase in Japanese." He laughs and pulls you into his thin body. "Who else would I need to say it to?" His hands rubbed up and down your back. "No one, but still- just let me be flirty while staying on topic, alright?" You say with a laugh, twirling his hair around your finger. Not to say neither of you learned anything during your study date, but just in case Fyodor didn't, he now knew how to ask to kiss you.

A/n; sorry this post is like an hour later than usual my bad chat ☹️

178 notes · View notes

porschesbabydaddy · 8 months

Text

Kinnporsche Fuck Ranking

As the name suggests, this list is a ranking of which character I think fuck from the least to the most. This is based off vibes alone, with absolutely no regard for cananical evidence. If you disagree with me that’s fine but please remember that I’m far too pretty for arguing online so I will not be accepting criticism, constructive or otherwise.

#10) Kim

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- Kim would rather die than be physically or emotionally vulnerable with someone. He saw Tawan leading Kinn around by his dick and said “yeah no not for me thanks”

#9) Pete

Honestly I think sex and sexuality is so low on Pete’s list of priorities before he met Vegas that the desire to fuck never really struck him. This has changed now that he’s living his best and most freaknasty life, but he’ll have to do quite a bit of fucking to catch up to everyone else

#8) Big

Big only fucks when the loneliness gets too heavy to handle. He either chooses men who look too much like Kinn, or look like his complete opposite. Either way it’s not a healthy choice

#7) Chay

Now this is going to come as a shock to some people, but you can’t tell me that a teenage boy with a frequently empty house and a healthy libido isn’t getting up to funny business. The limited edition Wik merch stays ON during sex

#6) Tankhun

Another controversial one, I know. While Tankhun may not fuck in the traditional sense, he’s got a devoted harem of discord kittens and he’s inventing new ways to have cybersex that should be studied by scientists

#5) Ken

There isn’t much to say here. Ken is a nasty little thotty who died making it clap on Instagram

#4) Kinn

Kinn only ranks so low because he’s a very busy man. He has to pencil his dick appointments into his Google Calendar, it’s a whole thing

#3) Porsche

Little Miss “bartending is my sidegig, fucking rich women for tips is my real job.” He took to gay sex like a duck takes to water, and that’s because sluttery is his calling

#2) Vegas

Vegas fucks like it’s his job, and that is NOT a compliment. Take a vacation day babygirl, the slut factory can afford to go without you for one day. Or at least have some orange slices and water, replenish your energy

#1) Yok

do I even need to give an explanation for this? Just look at her. Assume that whenever Yok isn’t on screen, she’s having incredibly hot and wildly acrobatic sex. Side note: She and Tankhun should have smashed tbh

#kinnporsche #kprewatch2023 #important scientific research

560 notes · View notes

gffa · 7 months

Text

I'm coming to really hate this whole idea of having to pick a "side" in Star Wars fandom, like are you pro-Jedi or anti-Jedi? Or even pro-Anakin or anti-Anakin? Or pro-prequels or anti-prequels? I get why these labels evolved and there are circumstances where they are useful, especially when discussing larger trends in fandom! I don't think they should be abolished or anything, I still use them myself! But I kind of hate the whole idea of people boiling down the idea that people must be categorized as one or the other--like, I dislike being thought of as "pro-Jedi", specifically because I'm my own set of opinions and views! Whatever compliments or criticisms I have for the Jedi are mine, not part of some collective opinion. I'm not part of a monolith, I'm just my one solitary person, I'm not responsible for other pro- or anti- people's opinions on things, just as they're not responsible for mine. Thinking of fandom being split up into these "factions"--instead of a bunch of different, unique people with unique to them set of opinions--is deeply frustrating when I don't want to be responsible for others' opinions! I'm only responsible for mine! I'm not that simple, you can't just boil me down into a single category or decide that I must hold certain opinions because I was categorized into a specific group. "Pro-Jedi/pro-Anakin/pro-prequels fans just can't accept their faves weren't literally perfect!!!" is not applicable to me, because I have argued time and again against how much I hate the idea that any of these aren't allowed flaws unless those flaws are being used to show actually they were Bad, but it gets applied to me anyway because I talk positively about the Jedi/Anakin/the prequels. I wish there were more thought given to how my views are not the same as any other "pro-Jedi" or "pro-Anakin" or "pro-prequels" person, that you wouldn't want to be lumped in with those fans because you saw one person being annoying and thus think all fans hold those exact same views and your views don't align with that, so those fans are stinky. No! You don't have to put a label on yourself or anyone else, unless you want to! Just have the opinions you have without needing people to be lumped into groups! And other people are the same way! They just have opinions that are unique to them! Every new fan you meet is going to occupy a different space on the pro-/anti- gamut and I think that makes for a more nuanced, healthy way of looking at fandom.

#lumi.txt #star wars #fandom #anakin skywalker #jedi order #prequels #meta

325 notes · View notes

girlboypersonthingy · 1 year

Text

I GOT AN ANON REQUEST FOR KEITH X READER CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT 😩 I’m sorry, anon but here it is! ✨ Keith is so baby 🥹

Keith x reader ~ Childhood friends to lovers ❤️‍🔥

You met at the garrison when you were barely teens, when Keith’s hair was shorter and he NEVER opened his mouth in public.

It’s not that he didn’t like you when you first met, he just didn’t want to like you. He was comfortable being a loner and didn’t want to put in the effort a friendship requires

But you were just so nice to him. He lowkey loved and hated it at the same time. He wanted to ignore you like he did everyone else but you wouldn’t leave him alone and he felt too guilty to tell you to go away. You noticed he was always alone so you tried to offer him some kindness.

He kinda wanted you to leave him alone but you didn’t and eventually, he started to looked forward to seeing you everyday. Seeing you run to him with a smile on your face and an extra lunch bag in your hand for him made him feel important. He’d never admit any of that to you tho.

One day, you weren’t at school and the whole day was just off. He didn’t feel right, he felt sad and invisible as he walked past all his classmates in the hall. He felt like no one truly saw him besides Shiro, who was often too busy to really give Keith attention, and you.

The next day when he saw you, he came up to you first!!!

“Where were you yesterday?” “I had a doctors app-“ “Next time, tell me you’re gonna be gone. I was worried.” He reached out for your hand, holding it between his own cold hands. “Oh…okay. I-I’m sorry, Keith.”

Omfg he was worried about you? After one day??? How cute!

From then on, you two were inseparable, the best of friends. He went to you every time he was really sad and needed support or when he was extremely angry and needed to just rant and yell to you. He confided in you so much, he trusted you more than anyone else. He told you the ugly and embarrassing secrets he’d never told anyone else before.

That day that he punched Griffin, after going to the dean’s office he found you outside reading. You could tell he was upset as he stomped over to you, making you immediately toss your book aside and give him your full attention.

“Keith? You okay? What happ-“ He flopped down in the grass beside you, laid on his side with his head resting on your thigh and began crying. He made sure to keep it quiet and keep his face hidden from you but you could feel him shaking. Unsure of what to say, you just began playing with the hair covering the nape of his neck. He LOVED the physical affection. He didn’t talk to you at all that afternoon, he just cried in your lap for a while then hugged you tight and went home.

That moment was when you both began to catch feelings. He loved that you were so kind and accepting of him, always so comforting. You never pressured him to talk to you, your presence alone was enough to calm him down.

You loved that he trusted you and always protected and checked up on you. He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask with your pretty smile and soft eyes and he’d comply.

As you both grew up, he came to love your praises. You always told him how smart he was and how amazing he was at piloting, he couldn’t get enough. You fed his ego so much.

He was and still is terrible at returning the compliments. He’d often offer you constructive criticism instead, which took some getting used to but made you realize that he genuinely cared for you and only wanted the best for you.

You’d often walk hand in hand around the garrison and if anyone gave you two a weird look or tried to tease y’all about being a couple, Keith would literally bark at them while keeping your hand in his grip. “Fuck off! Mind your business…” and you liked his fiery personality. He was your scary guard dog.

When Keith got kicked out of the garrison, it broke both of your hearts. He was completely lost without you or Shiro around and you couldn’t sleep well at night for over a month bc you were so worried about him. Just like that, he had disappeared.

It was a while until you finally found him in that shack in the desert. You had gotten a tip from a teacher at the garrison while they were talking about him being a recluse and how he would sneak out to that shack in the middle of the night just to be alone and enjoy the quiet.

You found it one day and sort of just barged in, catching him half dressed and sleepy in his bed. “Keith?” He sat up abruptly, fists up defensively. “(Y/N)? How…what…?” His hands dropped to his sides as he stared at you in surprise. You ran and hugged him tightly, smiling as he hesitantly hugged you back.

He looked different…his hair was longer, he looked like he had been working out a lot and the bags under his violet eyes were very prominent.

You decided the garrison just wasn’t for you and you’d rather be with Keith. It just wasn’t the same there without him so you left it all behind and began visiting him every day.

He had never been so depressed and anxious before you found him and now that you were back in his life, he slowly but surely began to smile and eat more and act like his normal moody self.

The night finally came that you helped him rescue Shiro and he told you he’d be forever in debt to you for helping him save his brother. After getting Shiro to safety and settling everyone down, he pulled you outside his little shack so you could be alone together and he hugged you so tight it almost hurt as he cried on your shoulder. This time, his tears seemed to be from happiness and relief. He finally had his support system back ❤️‍🩹

Once you found yourselves in space together, his attitude changed a bit. He was much more busy and irritated and quiet all the time. Being a young adult out in space with the tremendous pressure of defending the universe took its toll on him.

You just gave him space and tried to keep yourself busy as well. He wasn’t sure if he liked the space or not.

As you all began to get into the swing of life out in the cosmos, Keith began coming around to you more often.

“Wanna come train with me? It’s boring by myself.” You were way too excited to spend time with him. You missed him so much while he was being distant. This moment changed everything. You two were inseparable again.

The whole team noticed that you had a way of getting him to soften up and relax when he was really frustrated. Everyone knew that you two loved each other but would never admit it to the other.

Finally, loverboy Lance steps in. He had to get y’all together. Keith is so dense and only seems to open up to you. You both just need a push from Lance the matchmaker.

He goes to Keith first and Keith shuts down the whole idea. He is terrified to lose your friendship by pushing a relationship on you so he totally rejects Lance’s help. He even tries to tell Lance that he only sees you as a friend but we all know he’s a terrible liar.

When Lance approached you, you couldn’t help but confess your burning love for Keith. You love him more than anyone in the world and you were also scared of making the friendship awkward by confessing to him. But Lance is the best wingman in the world. He would never let you fail.

Lance helped you come up with the right words to say and also tried to get you to practice some pick up lines, to which you just scoffed at him.

Finally, the day had come. You were gonna tell him how you really feel, how you’ve been feeling all these years.

You approach Keith’s door, waiting a few seconds before your shaky hand knocks.

The door slides open and a small smile grows on his lips. “What’s up?” You walk past him and into his room without asking permission, finding a seat on his bed. He was confused as to why you didn’t even smile at him like you normally do. “(Y/N)…are you okay?” He came to sit beside you, watching you with worried eyes.

“Listen…I uh…I have something to tell you but you have to swear, promise me that you’ll always be my friend…” Keith’s cheeks begin to flush as he nods slowly. He’s pretty sure he knows what’s about to come out of your mouth. “I promise.”

“I…I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. You…you mean the entire universe to me and I just want to call you my boyfriend. I don’t want to ruin our friendship so I understand if you don’t-“

“Shut up. I love you too…more than anyone. Let’s just date already.” And now his face is burning red hot as he avoids your gaze.

You guys fell into it so quick and smooth. It was an easy transition from best friends to lovers. You shared your first kiss just a few days after making it official.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you ever since that day you told me you were worried about me when I wasn’t at school.” This makes him smile bigger than you’ve ever seen him smile before.

“Yeah? Funny…that’s when I first wanted to kiss you too.”

There’s no one else he’d rather be with. You are his person and he is yours, forever and ever and ever ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#Spotify #voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron x reader #voltron x you #vld #voltron fandom #keith kogane #keith voltron #keith x reader #vld keith #keith vld #keith kogane x reader #keith headcanon #Keith

963 notes · View notes

ao3commentoftheday · 2 years

Text

*person compliments your fic*

humility: omg thanks! I wasn't really sure about this one, so I'm glad you think it turned out!

self-deprecation: it was so much better in my head. I only posted because I got tired of looking at it.

self-loathing: you don't have to be nice. I know it's trash. I should just delete it

confidence: as soon as I got the idea, I just *knew* I had to write it!

arrogance: right? I wish other people could write like this too but so many people in this fandom just don't understand the characters like I do

---

I keep trying to find ways to explain the thoughts that I have when I read the notes on my posts where people beat themselves up. I'm writing this in a convincing tone (I noticed when I was 1 paragraph away from finishing), but that's just how I communicate most of the time. Please add in whatever caveats you think are appropraite. This is just me trying to think my way through some things.

So many of you out there seem to think that the only way to be "honest" about your abilities is to criticize yourself harshly. Like being kind to yourself is somehow self-aggrandizing.

Humility and confidence are two ends of the same spectrum. In both cases, you're secure in your own abilities. You have faith in yourself and what you can do. Humility relates to your internal security and the way you treat yourself. Confidence relates to your external security and how to relate to others.

If you are humble or confident, you have a realistic understanding of what you can and can't do. What you're good at, what you're great at, and what you can't do very well at all. You can accept a compliment when it's earned and you can accept a critique when you're trying to improve. Neither change your self-perception very much one way or the other. You'll be more humble when you're just learning a new skill and you'll be more confident once you're on your way to mastering it.

Self-deprecation and self-loathing are signs that you don't have a realistic view of your own capabilities. You're insecure and comparing yourself to others and finding yourself lacking. This might be a learned behaviour, where every time you showed confidence you were told you were getting prideful. It might be a case of insulting yourself before others are able to insult you - taking the power back from a bully by bullying yourself first.

Arrogance is also unrealistic, but at the other end of the spectrum. With arrogance, you compare yourself to others and put yourself in first place. You think others are below you or can't compete with you, that you're better than they are and they could never be as good as you. There's an insecurity with arrogance too. A fear that if you aren't the best then you must be a loser. If you're not number 1 then you aren't worth anything.

I use the example of getting a compliment because it's so commonplace in creative spaces. If you're insecure, it can be hard -even painful!- to accept them but learning how to do so can be a really valuable step on the road to learning how to be better to yourself.

#thinky thoughts #I'm still not getting the ideas out of my brain very well #so expect this to be the next thing I won't shut up about #as I try to noodle my way through it #long post #still #this turned out better formed than it was in my brain before I started typing #so I'll take that as a win!

2K notes · View notes

ilovefandoms102 · 1 year

Text

Forbidden

Pairing: Professor!Andy Barber x Plus Size Reader

Summary: It’s your first year of law school and your Criminal Law Professor isn’t anything like you expected…

Note: Huge thank you to @lerrieslovechild for helping me with this!

Warnings🛑: professor!andy, age gap(reader is in her 20s), smut(slight dubcon, dom/sub aspects, unprotected vaginal sex, overstim, spanking)

Part 2

For as long as you could remember, you’d always wanted to be a lawyer. Specifically one that deals with family matters. See, you didn’t grow up in the best environment. Both your parents were drug addicts and were deep into deals with local gangs, mafias, the whole hog. Since you lived in a shitty area, no one looked twice at how your parents treated you.

One thing they could give you was making sure you went and stayed in school. The time your mother showed any kind of parental concern was when it came to your grades. You’re not sure where you got the brains from and had no one to ask since both sets of grandparents were dead.

From a young age, you knew the only way of getting away from this life was busting your ass in school. Your teachers always doted on you, was the top of all your classes, and got a full ride to the best law school. Once you turned 18, you packed your shit and cashed out every single penny of your savings so your parents couldn’t get their dirty hands on it.

You passed your undergrad with flying colors, moving you on to the first year of law school. No surprise, it was hard, but your favorite class had to be Criminal Law. You went in everyday excited to learn, and it wasn’t just because of your super hot Professor.

Professor Barber was probably the hottest man you’d ever seen, not even exaggerating. From his beard, to his huge beefy arms, luscious thighs and even more amazing ass, you were mesmerized. You didn’t let that get in the way of your studies however as I’m sure others did. You actually cared about what you were studying, maybe partly because of the life you had, but you also knew this would be important for your future career.

Your boyfriend, Chad, hated that you had his class. He was in his second year of law school and also had Professor Barber during his first year. Chad also hated how the Professor seemed to make you his star pupil which was a load of shit. You never even spoke to your Professor unless it was answering questions in class or when he handed back your essays and complimented yours. Professor Barber also knew how badly you wanted to be a family lawyer and set you up with some of his connections, another thing Chad hated.

Chad and you had been together almost a year now, but things started changing once he found out your class schedule. He’d become extremely critical of everything you did and became hateful if you couldn’t hang out. Before then, he was really sweet and outgoing. He treated you right, the sex wasn’t the best but he tried, sometimes he’d send you your favorite flowers.

Midterms were coming up and Professor Barber assigned a big reading along with a 40 plus page paper. It wasn’t anything like he’d assigned before, so all your focus was in to this assignment along with the 10 other things from other classes. That’s when it happened…

Andy stared at your paper, confusion flooding his brain as this wasn’t anywhere near acceptable. Your papers were always his favorite to read, you truly had a gift for the world of law. He’d never seen anything like it in his 5 years of teaching. But this…something was wrong and he was determined to find out.

He couldn’t help but take an interest in you. Aside from the phenomenal work you turned in, you were the smartest one in his class. The way you answered questions and actually paid attention to the material made him feel something he’d never felt. He couldn’t lie about how your beauty struck him every time you walked in his class. He tried not to, but Andy couldn’t help sometimes to stare at your curves or think how it would feel to have you under him while he held on to said curves.

It was so wrong he knew, but he couldn’t help it. The passion that you expressed drew him in like a drug. So when he saw you come in the next day, tear stained cheeks, he saw red. It took all his control to not walk up to you and pull you in his arms. Instead he went through the motions of teaching but noticed you weren’t as engaged as normal.

After class, he stopped you and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Yes Professor?” you asked timidly, looking up at the man towering over you.

“Do you have a class right now?” Andy questioned.

“No sir, I have a gap.” you murmured, trying to look anywhere but his blue eyes.

“Come to my office, I’d like to discuss your paper.” he said with a tip of his head towards the hallway.

He grabbed his bag, gesturing for you to follow him. You nodded and walked behind him, your mind only on what happened with you and Chad.

“Are you taking his cock y/n?!” Chad roared, his finger in your face.

“No! Why would you even say that?!” you screamed back, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“That’s all you fucking do is talk about Professor fucking Barber! Every time I call you you’re doing work for his fucking class! All your free time is spent with him and not me your fucking boyfriend!” he seethed, the anger in his voice terrifying you.

You cowered back until you hit a wall, Chad charging into your space.

“Stop it Chad!” you sobbed.

“Stop crying like a little bitch and admit what you did!” Chad growled.

“Get out!” you screamed, shoving his chest back.

After some more screaming, Chad finally stormed out of your apartment. You laid in bed that night crying yourself to sleep.

“Y/n? Honey?” Andy shook your shoulder lightly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry Professor,” you mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Take a seat.” Andy offered, pointing to the seat across from his desk.

You sat of course, laying your bag on the empty one next to you. Nerves bundled in your stomach as you looked at the handsome man. He stood in front of you, leaning back against his desk. He looked so damn sexy, yet casual if drove you nuts.

“Is everything ok? This paper…well y/n this is nothing like you usually write so I’m concerned.” Andy started gently.

“I-” you started, your voice croaking as tears resurfaced.

“Sweetheart, you can tell me. You’re safe here, it’s just us.” Andy whispered, daringly moving a stray hair from your cheek.

“I’m sorry Professor Barber, I just…I know it’s not my best. I’ve had a really bad past few nights it just-I-I know it’s not an excuse.” you blubbered, crying right in front of your Professor.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, it’s alright honey. It’s alright. Tell you what, I’ll help you. Come to my place after your classes, then you can turn it in again, but that’ll be your final grade.” Andy said, your eyes widening.

His place?

Your Professor-your very, very HOT Professor wanted you to come over?

“I-I’m not sure.” you sniffled, glancing up into his eyes.

“I’ll give you my number, text you my address.” he whipped his phone out, handing it to you.

Stupidly, you typed your number in. Were you really about to do this? Logically, you could use his help, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to go to his place. What you weren’t prepared for is the moment everything would change…

You knocked on his door, biting your lip as you thought about running back to your car and going home. At the same time, you wondered what this night with your teacher would bring. He opened the door, his sexiness upping by a gazillion since he’d changed out of his usual suit into jeans and a long sleeved tshirt, a chain hanging from his neck that you wanted to grab on to. A chain you could see dangling above you as he fucked you silly.

“Hey sweetheart, come on in.” Professor Barber smiled, stepping aside to give you room to walk in.

“Thanks again for helping me Professor-” you started.

“Andy, call me Andy outside of school baby.” he said softly.

Andy…

Baby…

“Ok, um Andy. Thank you for giving me another chance and offering to help.” you smiled a bit, getting out your laptop from your backpack.

After hours of writing, Andy looking over it, editing and talking all things Crim Law, you were finally able to resubmit your paper. Andy deemed it perfect and that you two should celebrate with a drink. He pulled out his finest whiskey, pouring you both a shot.

“To the amazing y/n.” he grinned, clanking his glass to yours.

“Not sure about that.” you giggled, throwing the shot back.

Andy set about making you an actual drink, throwing that smirk at you that made your clit throb. God you wanted him so bad, and the alcohol didn’t help. Especially when he handed it to you and you clumsily spilt it all over yourself.

“Oh shit, you ok?” Andy asked, grabbing some towels to try and save your drenched clothes.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry.” you whispered, embarrassment flooding through.

“Baby, nothing to be sorry for. You can borrow something of mine and I’ll throw your stuff in the wash.” he offered, taking your hand and guiding you to his room.

Andy handed you one of his shirts, showing you to the bathroom while you changed. He hoped like fuck he wasn’t messing this up, the itch to touch you was driving him insane. Watching you work made his cock achingly hard, he almost had to excuse himself so he could jack off to the dirty thoughts he had in his mind.

He stopped breathing when you walked out, swallowed up in his shirt. All his control went out the window as he prowled to you, picked you up, and tossed you on his bed. A startled shriek escaped as you landed roughly, gulping when Andy pulled his shirt off. His jeans went next before he finally put a knee in the bed, crawling up to you.

“Andy-” you breathed, putting your hand to his chest.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” he growled, heat soaring through your body as you stared up at the beautiful man.

When you didn’t answer, Andy took that and slammed his lips to yours. You couldn’t control the whimper that flew out as you tangled your tongue with his, your hands taking that time to explore the muscle and ridges of his back.

“Fuck, really wanna eat you baby but we’ll have to save that for later.” Andy grunted, yanking his shirt off you.

“Later?” you squeaked, shivering when he nodded his head.

You didn’t have time to even think about being exposed to him, you were so hot and bothered and extremely tuned the fuck on. Sitting up, you threw your bra off while Andy took care of your panties.

Andy yanked you down to the end of the bed, spread your legs, and viscously thrusted inside you. The pain of his cock shot through you yet it felt so fucking good, your back arched from the bed as a pathetic moan rang out into his room.

“Christ baby, so fuckin’ perfect. Look at you, so wet and fucked out already.” he smirked while savagely slamming into you.

“Andy!” you squealed, pleasure spiking way to fast, faster than you’d ever felt.

You could feel it coming, you recognized the feeling yet you’d only ever been able to do it to yourself. This would be your first orgasm during sex, and your Professor was about to give it to you in a way you’d never forget.

“You gonna cum already sweetheart? We just got started.” Andy grinned, holding your hips tighter as he pounded in faster.

“An-Andy I-I’m gonna-” you gasped as your whole body tightened, your orgasm sweeping over you.

Andy smiled menacingly as he watched you, the most beautiful woman lose it taking his cock. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon either as he flipped you over, smacking your ass harshly as he pulled you up to your knees.

“All mine now baby, my little slut to do whatever I want with.” he growled, laying another smack to your ass.

You whined against the sheets, shakily pushing up on your hands as you looked over your shoulder. Andy stared into your eyes as he stuffed his cock back into you, watching your eyes roll back as your head fell forward. He reached around, finding your clit and rubbing just as harshly as he hammered into your sore pussy.

“Andy, it’s too much!” you sobbed, another orgasm crashing over.

“Mmmm I know my baby can take it.” he hummed, continuing his movements while you could only sit there and take it.

Orgasm after orgasm, your last one with you on your back with your legs over Andy’s shoulders when he finally let go and planted himself to the root. You were so gone with pleasure you didn’t get to watch, and you secretly hoped there would be a time you could.

Andy was careful with his baby, cleaning her up and tucking her into his side. The two of you shared lots of gentle kisses until you passed out with your head on his chest. Andy finally felt like he’d found the person he’d been looking for, and he was going to do whatever it took to keep you.

#andy barber smut #andy barber x plus size reader #andy barber fic #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x reader #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber #plus size reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans #chris evans beard #chris evans fic #chris evans character fanfiction

2K notes · View notes