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#almost every old man in this show needs to die
gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]
You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.
CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.
FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3
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— Why your wife left you, again? 
You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 
You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 
— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 
He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 
He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 
— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 
— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 
— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 
— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 
— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 
— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 
— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 
— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.
— This is my house too!
— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 
König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 
— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 
Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 
König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 
If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 
His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 
— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 
He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 
König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .
He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 
But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…
— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 
— I’m not in the mood right now. 
— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 
— He takes on after his father, ja?
It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 
König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 
You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 
— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.
— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 
You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 
— I’m not dumb! 
— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 
— You just call me a different type of dumb. 
— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 
König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 
He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 
— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 
You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 
It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 
He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 
— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 
— I wanted to study. 
You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 
— You mean you and your ex’s house. 
He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 
You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 
— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 
— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 
He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 
— Why you need a job? 
— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 
— You have me. 
— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 
— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.
König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 
You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 
König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 
Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?
Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 
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machiavellli · 5 months
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Some Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
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Notes: I’m no ff writer, but in the past couple of days @slytherinslut0 kept taking about him and so I went on the internet and did the only sane thing I had to do: search any piece of information about the actor. And ever since I discovered that Lorenzo Zurzolo is not only Italian, but from ROME, I can’t stop thing about him. I need to let out those thoughts of mine.
Now, you don’t understand. ROMAN GUYS LOVE ON ANOTHER LEVEL. Like this is very personal and subjective maybe BUT, in humble opinion, they become absolutely and utterly taken by you. It’s wonderful. Like maybe I am idolizing, but let’s take my bf as an example, Roman guy ™️, he loves like no one else. Then, girls from Lazio will probably throw tomatoes at me, but no one can stop me right now.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, almost totally fluff. Based on personal experience. NOT PROOFREAD (class is starting RIGHT NOW)
Scusatemi per la probabilmente pessima interpretazione dei ragazzi romani, care personcine romane, io sono più del sud, ma vivo più a Nord, al Nord oltre al Nord (un bel mix if you ask me). Questa è pura esperienza personale che trasferisco su un personaggio immaginario.
-—-—-——-—-—
Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:
He might take his time to decide if you are the one for him
BUT the moment he decides you are the one for him, he will take you out on a date in less than a week starting from now
There is no point on waiting any longer.
He will arrange the date, you just have to show up and look pretty, no need to lift a finger for anything else.
Old fashioned type of guy.
(And I feel like his fashion reflects that)
Will hold any door for you, move the chair for you, pay dinner and even your ride back home if necessary.
Maybe if you go with him for a walk after your dinner and the right atmosphere forms, you will have your first kiss with him. Something very delicate, soft, but still exciting.
He will probably ask to see you again the very next day, he can’t take enough of you.
As I said, I think Roman guys are pretty direct, they don’t waist their time, it’s either with them or nothing. No games to play.
So yeah, you might not be used to but he will ask you to be his girlfriend in a very little time (for me it was the day of my first date, but again, very personal)
Why should he wait? He likes you and that’s all that matters.
After that: you got him in a chokehold.
He will walk you to class. Every. Single. Day.
Will do absolutely anything just to spent more time with you.
He might be a little shy to start using “pet names”
Maybe he will start with a simple “amò” (short version of “love”), which is romantic, but not strictly, I also use it with my girl friends (and a more corrupted version is “amio”, but I use it only as a joke, but there are girls who actually use it and no shame on that)
Many guys usually refer to their girlfriends as “la mia tipa” (which I don’t like), and he will also do that at first, but once he gets comfortable he will always call you “la mia ragazza” (even in front of his friends)
And I have to advise you on that, he will tell you that infamous “ti amo” pretty soon too.
Again: no time to die (is this an actual English saying or am I just make it up right now?boh)
You two are watching the sunset, when you notice that he’s not looking at the sky anymore but at you
A couple of minutes pass by and you ask “what is it?”
With those big beautiful eyes and that smirk of his, he will look at you and just say “nothing amore, ti amo”
He won’t expect for you to say it back
You can wait as long as you like for telling it back, there’s no rush, no pressure to say it back
Your moroso (usually adults use this term but for me it’s cute) just wanted to let you know that he cares about you.
He will literally say “because it felt right, why should I wait?”
My man is just expressing what he feels
And you want to say no to that???crazyyyy
As I already stated, he is so kind with you and with some time he will absolutely let you know that his love language is touch.
At first in your first months of dating it’s just holding hands, an arm around you shoulder, an arm on your waist,…
And at first he won’t be always touching (and with it I mean the things I listed above) you in public.
Mama’s boy is direct but still has light sheer of shyness
How could he not. He finds you beautiful under every light.
BUT THEN
And with it I mean after you get intimate, which will take a a couple of months
Listen, if things are serious in real life, it takes a bit of time…so’ seria io quindi per me funziona così
After that he will and without holding back always touching you in public (WHICH DOESNT MEAN IN A SENSUAL WAY)
He will hold your hand, put a hand on your thigh,… this type of stuff. He just needs to know you are here with him.
Definitely the type of guy that tries to kiss you even at the worst moments.
You are speaking with someone? What does it mean that he can’t kiss you? Ao non scherziamo qua
You are his and he definitely doesn’t share
(And he’s definitely yours don’t worry, absolutely don’t worry.)
Jealous type of of guy.
Let’s be honest here: he won’t be happy about your guy friends (maybe I’m toxic but I won’t be happy about his girl friend that are not my friend first too)
If you can drop them, it’s for the best.
“Io so che cazzo pensano quelli” he will tell you a bit frustrated
My man just wants to protect you, Italian guy ™️ behavior (very common in my opinion for them to be protective, like last week an Italian guy, a friend 🅰️🅾️, from the north literally shielded me from a weird-looking fella, moving me to the other side of the street)
Sometimes he will just look at you and say “sei bellissima” with the cutest smile known to human kind
Or maybe something like “Lo sai che sei proprio bella?” while he similes at you
And yes, he will tell you always and everywhere, even with a whisper during class just to get you flushed, even if you look like shit <3
You will often find asking to yourself how a person can love you so much, care for you so much.
Like this is not a self esteem problem, even if you are extremely confident: you will ask yourself this.
Because in every flaws he finds beauty.
It’s out of this world.
He won’t in fact tolerate you taking shit about yourself and he might be even be rude about it
“Smettila con ste cazzate.”
He can’t comprehend how you could say that about yourself, “la sua amata e diletta” (si si lo so, “diletta” è come Machiavelli definisce sua moglie e sì non c’entra per nulla, ma volevo aggiungerlo, non rovinatemi la magia)
He will talk with you about your future, about how he would like to have kids with you, “pensa che bello avere dei piccoli noi che corrono in giro per casa”
And then, this one is extremely based on personal experience, after some time he will just start saying “I wanna marry you”, “Ti voglio sposare”
Even during random moments, he will look at you and just say it
Like, it doesn’t mean you are getting married right now. No. It just means that he wants you forever, he won’t leave you.
He will make you happy in every way possible (yeah even in the bedroom)
Cuddling you is THE activity for him.
And if he can lay between your thighs, that’s basically haven. He won’t stop saying “così soffici” and then kiss them.
He also loves kissing you, as passionate as it gets.
He will “hold you hair in deep devotion” (he is so “I wanna be yours” coded)
Also: “say yes to haven” coded.
He will always protect you, no matter against who.
He will choose you over anything.
If his friend are rude to you or say ANYTHING bad about you, they are over, he won’t tolerate any form of aggression on you.
You are the only woman in this world for him…like even an angel could walk by and he would still have his eyes on you only.
He won’t even look at other girls anymore, why should he? He has found la sua anima gemella dopotutto.
In the end, you really will become il suo tesoro, and the nickname tesoro will probably be the most used one.
“Ti amo tantissimo”, ti dirà ogni sera prima di darti la buonanotte.
-—-—-——-—-—
-> part II
Ahh ​Roman guys are my Roman Empire.
My asks are open btw!
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kingkatsuki · 1 year
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Sealed With A Kiss | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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Didn’t think I’d write anything for Bakugou’s birthday and then a random idea popped into my head and I wrote it all in one sitting. It’s been months since I’ve started and finished a fic, so please be kind! And Happy Birthday, Bakugou!💕
Summary: Not everyone wants the quirk that they're given. Ever since you were a child, you were cursed with a quirk where you’re able to see how someone will die when you kiss them. Unsure on whether your quirk is telling the future, or sealing their fate with a kiss of death, its safer for you to completely give up on finding love. Coming to terms over the years that you’ll have to watch all your friends get married and settle down, while you spend the rest of your life alone. That is, until you run into Bakugou Katsuki.
Warnings: 18+, minimal plot, mostly smut, no beta, praise, dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, public sex, protected sex, not as angsty as I thought it’d be!
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 6.4k.
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What would you do if you could tell someone the exact time and way that they’re going to die? Would you share that information with them, hoping that they can get their affairs in order and live those final moments to the fullest before kicking the bucket? Or would you keep quiet about it, holding onto the information as though it's a sordid little secret that needs to be buried and taken to your own grave?
Not that it matters anyway, because even if you held that information no one would believe you anyway, would they? Telling someone that they’re going to die in a car accident when they don’t even drive, or that they die during a snowstorm in July. It’s like people only ever believe what they want to hear, and it’s the same reason why even your best friend doesn’t know about your quirk. Imagine if you’d proved it, writing down your prediction and then waiting for it to happen. Counting down the days like you’re waiting for an exciting event, not waiting for someone to die. And then what? Someone dies and people want you to do it again, to prove that it wasn’t just a fluke. And then what? You’re kissing every single person that comes along just to tell them that they’re not going to make it to their next birthday?
Quirks should be a blessing, but yours was most definitely a curse.
“You know you really should start trying to settle down, you’re not getting any younger.” You could practically feel the disdain in their tone as you tried to avoid the question by taking a sip of your drink.
“You act like she’s going to die soon,” Your best friend Tatami laughed, shaking her head, “She’s got plenty of time.”
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. You should scoff at the saying, but in this instance, it was very much true. The entire Hen party was made more awkward by the fact that you didn’t like any of your best friends friends’. All socialites that would give up your deepest, darkest secrets to further themselves and get their names plastered all over the latest tabloids. You were lucky enough to have known her since childhood, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Every wedding you’d attended in the last few years was even more elaborate and outrageous than the last like each bride competed to show that they had the most magnificent life. And every time you were stuck in an uncomfortable bridesmaid dress, trying to avoid the same string of questioning that you knew was coming.
“Come on, Tatami.” One of the girls rolled her eyes, taking a large sip of champagne, “Why don’t you try to set her up with one of your old school friends? At least then she’d be with a man with ambition.”
You felt irritated by them talking about you as though you weren’t even in the room, never mind sitting on the opposite ends of a table. They made it seem as though you were incapable of finding a partner like no one would ever want you.
“Or you could try one of those dating websites, I almost married a rich tycoon from Russia on there before I settled down with my husband. It’s funny how things work out.”
Of course, no one even bothers to ask me whether I want a boyfriend or not– never mind a husband. You rolled your eyes at the idea of flying out to Russia to marry a rich oil tycoon.
“I’m happily single at the moment,” You force a smile, your hand tightening against your glass, “
“They are right though, darling.” Tatami gave you a soft smile, “You have been single for quite some time. I’m not even certain I remember the last time you even mentioned going on a date with anyone?”
That’s because you hadn’t. Not since you lost your boyfriend all those years ago. Why would you try to look for someone again knowing what you know now?
Growing up you’d eagerly awaited receiving your quirk, but the longer it took to manifest the more you’d come to terms that you were one of the quirkless. It wasn’t until you shared your first kiss at sixteen that you realised that maybe things weren’t quite as they seemed. Everyone anticipates their first kiss, hoping it would be one of those special, perfect moments that you’d remember for the rest of your life. But instead, the moment you’d shared yours, you’d been struck with a horrifying premonition.
It felt like a dream at first, a moment where you’d pinch yourself and realise that everything had been concocted in your mind. The vision of your first love walking into traffic on a cold, snowy evening. The cars were unable to stop against the icy terrain as they drove straight towards him, the lights bouncing off the road to make it difficult to see pedestrians as he was knocked to his back. You’d even told him about it after it happened, laughing about how vivid your imagination was– but not even three months later and it's like your nightmare came true.
You’d told yourself it was a coincidence, that it could've happened to anyone and it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to heal your heart as you took time to recover from losing your first love until you met your next boyfriend. You were trying to allow yourself to be happy again, to forget the bad memories that haunted your past. Until it happened again– your first kiss with him gave you a vision. This time a villain attack endangered the city, your boyfriend was caught in the crossfire as a fire quirk ripped through his body and burnt him from the inside out.
It should’ve frightened you, much like the first time. But instead, you just felt numb. It was then you realised that you weren’t in fact quirkless, but instead of gaining a talent that was cool, flashy or useful to society– you inherited a curse.
Of course, there was no way you could explain your quirk to anyone, finding someone that believed you would be hard enough. But telling someone that you know when they’re going to die purely from kissing them? It sounded insane. Not to mention what it could do if the information fell into the wrong hands. Using the information for those dark, depraved benefits.
And to this day you weren’t even sure whether kissing someone showed the way they were going to die, or whether kissing them sealed their fate. Like you were the grim reaper handing out the macabre kiss of death.
Why would anyone want to be with you?
So it was easier this way, guarding your heart so you couldn’t feel the pain of losing someone you love again. A small price to pay to ensure that you didn’t harm anyone else, and the disappointed looks from your friends that you were still very much single were a small price to pay.
But you did feel alone.
Watching all your friends get married, settle down and have kids was harder when you knew you could never have those things. Maybe that's why it hurt even more. We always desire what we can’t have, after all.
“Let me set you up on one date and see how it goes,” Tatami’s annoying friend dipped her glass towards you from across the table, the champagne sloshing inside it, “I have this friend, not much of a looker, but he’s a quirk defence lawyer. It pays good money, and he’s looking to settle down–”
“It’s alright, I’m really not looking–” You felt awkward as each set of eyes around the table scrutinised you.
“Nonsense, he’d be perfect for you,” She continued, and you almost groaned as she pulled out her phone, “Let me text him now, I bet he could get you lunch in that new Sushi restaurant in the city.”
“Sorry, I just need the bathroom-” You almost shoved Tatami out of the booth as she stood up to let you out, her drink splashing as you tried to give her a reassuring smile before disappearing into the throng of people inside the busy nightclub. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find it back to your table at this point, but all you knew is you needed to get out.
The heat inside the club was suffocating, burning through you as you tried to find an exit. Weaving through the sea of people as you tried to remind yourself to breathe. Heaving a sigh as you noticed the sign to a smoking area as you followed the few people heading in the same direction. Stepping into the cool evening air is a welcome relief, the chill pricks against your skin as the heat slowly simmers down. Leaning against the rough brick wall as the back of your head knocks against it gently, closing your eyes to try and alleviate the irritation bubbling up inside you.
“Oi, you okay?” Your eyes opened into a glare to see the source of the voice, your nose scrunched in irritation at the blunt introduction.
A blond man stood a few feet away from you, cell phone in hand. The bright screen illuminated his face and cast a soft glow against his skin. You felt your heart betray you as it sped up at the sight of him, suddenly feeling self-conscious beneath his piercing ruby gaze.
“M’fine.” You mumbled, not about to dump all your issues on a random stranger.
“You don’t look fine,” He shrugged, glancing back down at his phone as he typed against the screen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sneered, your defences up.
“You just look pissed,” He smirked, and it only irritated you more.
Who did this fucking asshole think he was?
“Well I’ve got a random stranger bothering me, so perhaps I am.”
The answer has the opposite effect you were expecting as the blond beside you gives you a wide grin, shaking his head.
“Gotta be better than the desperate pricks inside there?” He tilts his head towards the club and you’ve gotta admit he’s right. You’ve been standing beside him for a minute and he hasn’t tried to buy you a drink or grab your ass.
“Guess you’re right.” You exhale softly.
“Whatever it is can’t be that bad anyway,” He shrugs, “You’re too pretty to be frownin’.”
You hate the way your heart throbs when he calls you pretty, it's pathetic really.
“You come here alone?”
Does he really think you’re that much of a loser to come to a club by yourself?
‘No, my friends are still inside.”
“So why are you out here alone?” He raises a questioning brow.
“Why are you here?” You crossed your arms against your chest defensively, turning the question back on him like he wasn’t doing the exact same thing you were.
“Got a big promotion today,” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Probably just another step on the never-ending corporate ladder to him, “My friends got me out to celebrate.”
“Is that why you’re standing outside on your own?” You shoot back, unable to miss the way his nostrils flare in irritation.
“Could say the same to you, sweetheart.” He scoffs, “Who’re you here with?”
“My best friend,” You smile softly, “She’s getting married.”
“Not very rowdy for a hen party.”
“Oh yeah?” You watch the way his tongue darts out between his lips to wet them, “You're not exactly the life of the party yourself, are you?”
“Just wanna go home,” He rolled his eyes, “My friends turn into assholes when they’re drunk.”
“Mine can be assholes at any time.” You were already expecting texts in the morning trying to invite you on a blind date you didn’t even want to go on.
“Dya want me to call you a cab?” The guy held up his phone, “I can get you a separate one if you don’t wanna share. It ain’t safe to be out here alone.”
“Very considerate of you,” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your heart from doing a little flip, “I can take care of myself.”
“Sure looks like it,” He scoffed, “That why you’re gonna hide out here for the rest of the night?”
“Shut up,” You almost pouted, “I’ll go back in.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He smirked.
“What’s your name?” You asked as he slipped his phone back into his black jeans pocket.
“Bakugou.” He answered after pausing for a second, “What's yours?”
You mumble your name and can’t stop your cheeks from scalding when he responds with a soft “Pretty.”
Standing in a comfortable silence between the handsome stranger you watched groups of people slowly leaving the club, some moving on to their next destination for the night and others trying to stop their friends from throwing up before they climbed into their designated cabs.
“Gonna take fuckin’ ages to catch a cab now, I hate this part of the city.” Bakugou groans, running his palm down the length of his face.
“You could go back in and party,” You shrugged, “I’m sure your friends are missing you.”
“Yeah? After you, sweetheart—” Bakugou made a mock chivalrous movement with his arm to invite you to go back inside first which you rejected. Moving back to stare into the sea of people with a small smile on your face, “Didn’t think so.”
You stood in a comfortable silence beside him for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. One of the first times in a long time that you felt yourself as you both listened to the rowdy cheers in the background.
“Do you ever just want to say fuck it and disappear?” You surprised yourself by speaking your thoughts out loud.
“Go somewhere where no one knows who the fuck you are or what the fuck you’re doin’?” Bakugou responded simply.
“Yeah.”
“All the time.” He murmurs.
“It just hurts when it seems like everyone else has their perfect little lives while you’re just waiting on the sidelines,” You sigh. Maybe it was easier offloading everything onto a random stranger, it wasn’t as though you had anyone else you could talk to, “It’s just lonely.”
“You don’t have to be lonely.” He replied as though it was the most simple answer.”
“It’s not that easy,” You shake your head.
“Who said it ain’t that easy?” Bakugou turned to face you, his frame towering over you as you looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Cause I’m always lonely.” You felt hot, pearly tears beginning to clump in your lash line as you thought about the nights you spent at home alone while all your friends were with their partners. The life that you’d always dreamed about, but never have. For once you just wanted someone to be there for you, with you, “It's just how it is.”
“You don’t have to be though, sweetheart.” He whispers.
“Yeah?” You murmurs, “Do you feel alone too?”
“Fuck,” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he stands with you for a moment, “C’mere.”
Bakugou took your hand in his as he walked you through the crowd of people outside the rowdy venue and down a dark dingy alley that was illuminated in fierce neon lights from the various clubs dotted along the high street. You followed behind him obediently as your heart danced against your ribcage, astounded by your daring behaviour. He could be a murderer or a psychopath for all you knew– just another stranger out looking for his next victim. But for some reason (maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins) you felt safe with him.
He moves his hands to your hips as he pushed you back against the cool brick wall, slotting himself between your parted thighs as he looks down at you with crimson eyes. The scent of liquor was sharp on his breath as his lips hovered close to you, warmth fanning your face as he leaned to kiss you.
“No kissing,” You gasped as you tilted your head just in time to avoid his lips as he pressed a wet, scorching kiss against your jawline.
If he had an issue with it, he didn’t voice it. The only sound was a rough grunt rumbling from the back of his throat as his lips continued to pepper sloppy kisses along your neck. Your fingers swiftly carded through his messy hair, nails grazing his scalp as you tried to pull him closer. As though everything right now wasn’t enough, you needed more.
“Please,” You whine as you felt his teeth graze your pulse point, hips bucking as strong palms reached out to steady you. Keeping you still as he bit down on the supple skin hard, the sudden pain had you crying out for him as the ache blurred your vision. Or maybe it was the alcohol running through your system— warm lips suckling the fresh bite mark as you clench your thighs together in a feeble attempt to give your neglected clit some much-needed friction.
“Please, what?” He rasps against your neck, his tongue salving against the mark he’d left against your skin moments earlier.
This is the part where you should’ve stopped him. Making up an excuse about Tatami wondering where you are, or needing to get home and disappearing into the night. But you didn’t—
“Touch me,”
“You always beg random strange men to touch you, sweetheart?” He smirked, his hand reaching round to grab a handful of your ass, “Or am I just special?”
If only he knew how unlike you this really was, that no one had touched you so intimately in years. A thought that would’ve surely ruined the mood if Bakugou’s hand hadn’t slipped beneath your dress to cup your aching sex, the sensation had you gasping in surprise as the blonde smirked down at you.
“I’m just special, hah?” He answered his own question with a toothy grin, “Is that why your panties are dripping for me?”
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this insatiable. Evenings spent at home with your toys felt nothing like the way his warm hands felt against your skin, uncaring that you were in a dirty alleyway as you found yourself grinding into his touch.
“Fuck,” You murmur, your head knocking against the cold brick as Bakugou presses the heel of his palm against your clit through the sheer fabric. A heat blazes through his touch and scorches you as you writhe against him, desperate to create a delicious friction as he smirks down at how salacious you look at this moment.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, bet I’d slide right in.” He grunts, surprising himself at his blunt words. Blaming his audaciousness on the alcohol Sero and Denki had plied him with not long ago, the liquor flowing through his veins.
“Please,” It’s quite pathetic really, just how easily this man has turned you into this. You’d managed to go years without the touch of a man, and now you’d felt it for a moment you were unsure how you’d ever lived without it.
“Oh, fuck.” He chokes back a groan as he pulls your panties to the side, the skirt of your dress now shamelessly bunched around your waist as he notes the glossy strings of your essence that cling to the flimsy fabric of your panties, “This all for me?”
His fingers drag through your slick shamelessly, testing it on his fingers as he feels the heat radiating from your core. He spends little time circling your puffy clit before continuing lower, dipping one thick digit inside your tight hole. You wish at this moment that you’d worn slightly prettier panties than the plain black ones you wore right now, but if Bakugou had any issues with them he certainly didn’t seem to mind as he pumped his finger in and out of your core.
“Shit, you’re so sensitive.” He groans at the way your body responds to him, thrashing against him as he places more pressure on your clit.
“Please, Bakugou.” Your thighs quiver as he continues pumping his finger inside you, feeling the way your walls hungrily try to suck him in deeper, to take all he's got to give and more.
“Wish we weren’t in a dirty fuckin’ alley right now, princess. I’d have you sit on my face.” He groans, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him at his lewd words. You’d never wished something so bad in your life, tempted to tell him you didn’t mind if there was an audience if it meant having his lips wrapped around your clit.
“I don’t normally do this shit,” He groans, nuzzling your neck.
“Fuck strangers in alleys?” You tease as he gives you a playful smirk against your skin.
“Somethin’ like that.”
You groan as he adds another finger to join the first, stretching you open as your nails dig crescent-shaped moons into the base of his neck, leaving reddened indents against his skin as he growls from the slight twinge of pain. The sounds coming from your cunt are downright crude, echoing around the empty alley as he deliberately curls his fingers to press against the spongy spot inside you.
“Shit, you’re fuckin’ dripping.” Bakugou grunts, watching your creamy slick dribble down his fingers and settle into his palm, his thumb pressing sloppy circles against your needy clit as you shamelessly rock your hips into his touch. Greedily searching for the orgasm that he’s more than happy to give to you.
“Look at you,” He goads, “You’re so fuckin’ easy. This sloppy ‘nd I’ve barely even touched you. Is this all it takes, sweet girl?”
You don’t have the heart to tell him how long it's been since anyone touched you like this, that no matter how hard you try to replicate his touch after today, you’ll probably never feel anything like this again. It’s like he’s tempting you to say something, to give him a witty comeback. But you can’t, not when his fingers are stroking you in all the right places, stretching you out in preparation for what you know is soon to come. You spread your thighs further apart to give him more access, a movement that has a wide grin from ear to ear appearing on his face. Standing on shaky heels as he ensures you stay upright with a palm on your waist.
He knows when he’s found it, like a lost ship searching for the bright glow of a lighthouse to guide it home. Pushing his calloused digits against the same spot that he knows will have you coming undone.
“Right there, huh baby?” He coos, “Yeah, I know, I know. Such a pretty pussy.”
You must look debauched now, your tongue lolling out as you pant pathetically with your head knocking against the cold brick wall. Allowing Bakugou– a complete stranger– to do as he so pleases with you.
“Oi, you listening to me?” He growls, and you can’t even remember what he’s just said. So lost in your own bliss as he continues to press the same persistent circles against your clit, “Course you ain’t, so desperate to cum, hm?’
“Please, Bakugou.” You mumble, breaking off into a salacious moan as he increases his pace eagerly trying to push you over the edge. He’s watching intently as you writhe against him, dangerously close to your release as you pulse around his digits.
“Fuck,” He almost snarls, the sound sending shockwaves direct to your needy cunt as you feel yourself vaulting into your bliss.
His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, even as you're crying out for him and gushing all over them. He instead, increases his pace, determined to have you completely intoxicated on him before he's even begun.
“You’re so goddamn noisy, ain’tcha?” He scoffs, finally pulling his digits from your spent cunt with a crude squelch. Unabashedly holding them up to his lips as he tastes you on his tongue, groaning as though he's tasted the sweetest ambrosia as he cleans you off his skin.
“Please, Bakugou.” You slur, legs shaky from the intense orgasm he’d gifted you as he pulls his fingers from his mouth.
Bakugou’s fingers are quick to unfasten his belt, letting the heavy buckle hang as he dipped his thumbs into the hem of his boxers to pull them down along with his jeans. Letting the material settle around the curve of his ass, just enough to free his aching cock. The sight of it had your thighs quivering in anticipation, the bulging head an angry pink colour as it oozed pre from the slit. Dribbling down the underside as the veins that forked along his girth made him appear even bigger, the length of it drooped down from the sheer weight as you wondered how on earth he could keep something that size hidden beneath his jeans.
“S’big,” You murmur, biting down on your lower lip as your cunt throbs in anticipation. Even his balls look huge, thick and weighty as you watch him give himself a teasing pump. His wrist rolling as he smears pre along the length. Ready to ignore how damp and filthy the floor looks in favour of dropping to your knees to worship his cock as it deserves.
“Think you can still manage it though, sweetheart.” He grins, “I know that pretty pussy’s good for it.”
You’re almost disappointed when he pulls a condom out from his wallet in his back pocket, seemingly you’ve found the only man in the entire bar with a conscience as he rips the foil packet open with his teeth. Lifting one of your thighs up to press against his hip as his cock slips between your folds, the fat tip catching against your entrance as he sucks in a breath.
“Don’t do that,” Bakugou groans, “You’ll make me wanna fuck you raw.”
“Do it then.” You challenge, wondering whether he really is like all the sleazy men your friends end up with.
“Another time, baby.” He glowers back, pushing the tip of the condom against the head of his cock as he slides it down his length.
The first push against your tight entrance has the air stolen from your lungs, a dull ache from the stretch in your core as his thick cock slowly breaches your sex.
“Holy fuck,” He grunts, his fingers dipping into the fat of your thigh as he holds it against his hip, “You’re so tight.”
He smirks at how desperate you are to feel him inside you, trying to drop yourself down on his length as he gives a few, shallow thrusts. Your fingers dig into his skin to try and get him to give you more, rewarding you by thrusting all the way inside. One sharp rut is all it takes to have him sheathed inside you, your walls moulding to the shape of his cock as he takes a moment to cherish the sensation of you wrapped around him.
“Told you I’d slide right in, perfect fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, slowly pulling back as he glances down between you to watch his cock slide out of your warm heat before you take every inch again.
There’s not much you can do in this position except stand there and take what Bakugou’s got to give, his rough thrusts push you against the wall as he almost sweeps you off your feet. His messy pubes tickle your clit with every forward motion as your essence leaks from your needy cunt and dribbles down his heavy balls.
His scent is intoxicating, the saccharine tartness has you tugging him closer. Burying your nose into his neck to smell the mixture of cologne and his natural scent. It’s almost comforting as you cling to him a little tighter, trying to commit it to memory so you can cherish it when you inevitably end up alone after tonight.
“Oh, god.” You cling to his broad shoulders, holding him tight as he sets a brutal pace. The fabric of your dress catches against the rough brick behind you as he leaves a trail of kisses against your cheek.
The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure rapidly building inside you as he continues thrusting into you with hard, sharp ruts of his hips. For once, the only thing you can think about is the white-hot pleasure coursing through you. The soothing ache from his cock stretching you open is almost cathartic as you let him use your body as he pleases, his rough hands groping at your exposed skin as he presses more scorching kisses against your jugular, sharp teeth nipping at your skin.
“Oh fuck, Bakugou.” You cry out, louder than intended as your toes curl from his harsh movement.
“Shit– You want us to get caught, sweetheart?” He groans, his palm reaching up to cover your mouth, “Can’t kiss you to shut’cha up, can I? So I’ll have to do this.”
And maybe it’s better this way, your lips warm against his palm as your lipstick smears against it. Otherwise, with the way he was looking down at you, you probably would’ve kissed him.
Your moans are muffled by Bakugou now, his pace unrelenting as he gives rough thrusts inside you. The lewd squelch vibrates around the empty alley and mingles with the loud thrum of bass that vibrates from inside the club. The loud bustle of voices only feet away as anyone could turn down and see you both in such a compromising position— not that it would be anything unusual. You certainly aren’t the first couple to fuck down this alley, if the empty condom wrappers and bottles are anything to go by, and you surely won’t be the last. But it’s been so unlike you to allow yourself to submit to your pleasure, to live a little.
“You still with me, pretty girl?” He groans, “Pussy feels so good. Can feel you clamping down around me.”
You whined against his palm, feeling the pleasure intensifying inside you as Bakugou continued his rough pace. Drunken patrons hollered boisterously as they left the bar causing him to shield your body with his broad back, taking his eyes off you to ensure they didn’t decide to come down the alleyway to interrupt you.
“Fuckin’ pricks.” Bakugou snarled under his breath as he stilled inside of you.
Your entire body felt as though it was on fire, hovering dangerously close to the edge of your climax as your cunt clenched around his thick cock. Causing Bakugou to suck a harsh breath through his teeth as he brought his attention back to you, the corner of his lip curling into a sly smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I didn’t forget about you,” He groaned, languidly moving inside you, “Gonna make you cum so hard.”
“Please,” You mumbled, muffled by his hand as he began rolling his hips, the bulging tip of his cock catching against the spongy spot inside you with each pronounced thrust.
“Fuck,” Bakugou snarls, moving his hand from your mouth in favour of slipping it between your bodies to thumb at your clit. The sensation has your knees buckling as your weight drops, no longer able to hold yourself up. But he’s strong, keeping you pinned between his body and the wall as he keeps his unrelenting pace, “Come on, pretty girl. I know you’re close, can feel you choking me.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s embarrassing really, how one man— a stranger, can have you coming undone like this in public no less.
“So fuckin’ noisy, shit-” He grunts, his ruby gaze intense as he watches you come undone.
Bakugou steals your climax from you, his thumb is unrelenting against your clit as he feels your cunt clamp down around him. The loud cry that spills from your lips has him wincing as he hopes no one’s decided to look down the alley for a free show— something that would certainly make the front page this very morning. He eases you through your high, the white spots that dance across your vision make it feel like you’re seeing stars. A sea of constellations against your eyelids as you succumb to the pleasure.
“You look so pretty when you cum,” He groans, his face buried in the apex of your neck as he inhales deeply, committing your scent to memory as he cherishes the way your cunt clenches around his cock.
Bakugou pushes his fat cock inside you, as deep as he can go. Until his balls are snug against the swell of your ass as he feels the tremble of your cunt coming down from your high. His warm breath scorches your neck as he gives himself a moment's respite before picking up his pace once more, greedily using your body to chase his own release. His palm pushes your thigh up higher against his hip, changing the angle as the swollen tip of his cock finds what it was searching for. The euphoria already surging through your veins is enhanced by the attention from his cock knocking against the same spot inside you over, and over, and over.
“Think you can give me one more, sweet girl?” He rasps, watching your thick lashes flutter as tears blind your vision.
“I– can’t,” You manage to get out between broken breaths, unadulterated pleasure coursing through your veins.
“Yeah, you can.” He coos, his thumb persistent against your clit as he ruts into the same spot inside you, “C’mon, for me?”
The sensation building inside you is almost painful, still overwhelmed from your last intense climax the pleasure still bubbling to the surface as Bakugou is unrelenting. It’s too much, and yet not enough at the same time.
“Don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He groans, “Cum for me.”
Your body feels ungovernable as you succumb to the pleasure, a cry of his name tumbling from your lips that he doesn’t try to silence as he holds your quivering body. Preventing you from thrashing as he clings to you tightly, fingertips creating divots in your plush thigh.
“Oh fuck, there we go.” He snarls primally, nostrils flaring as he gives a few final shaky ruts of his hips, spilling his release inside the condom with a grunt as you both bask in the aftershocks of your release.
You’re certain if he let go of you now you’d collapse to the dirty floor, your legs no longer strong enough to support your weight as you cling to Bakugou. And he holds you back just as tight, dropping your sore thigh in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist as he remains buried inside your fluttering cunt.
He can still feel you spasming when he finally pulls out of you, sliding the condom off his spent cock as he shamelessly throws it onto the ground. Fixing your panties before pulling your dress back down around your thighs to hide your modesty before he moves to tuck his wet cock back inside his underwear and buttons his jeans.
You hadn’t expected him to hold you so tenderly, as though you were the world's most precious porcelain. But you both stand there for what feels like forever, basking in the afterglow as you sway side to side.
A large palm raised to cup your warm cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin as he tilted your head to meet his gaze. Leaning forward as his eyes crossed to stare at your pouty lips, closing the distance slowly until you placed a palm on his chest.
“No kissing.” You repeated, turning your head as Bakugou pulled back, squinting at you.
“Still?” Bakugou grunts, “Why the no kissin’ bullshit?”
You couldn’t explain it to him, especially not after this. Wondering if it would be easier to make up a lie about your breath smelling or being nervous.
“I just can’t.” You sounded pathetic, internally wincing at the pitiful tone of your voice.
“Yeah, why?” He continued, “You got a boyfriend or somethin’?”
He actually looked hurt as he asked the question, his crimson gaze searching your eyes for any kind of deception as you shake your head no.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Husband?” Bakugou pushes as you shake your head again.
“No.”
“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” He spits, slightly more harshly than intended.
“You won’t like it,”
I don’t want to know when you die. You think to yourself.
“Like fuck I won’t.” He scoffed, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”
Bakugou caught you by surprise when he wrapped his palm around your neck, holding you so tenderly as he ducked his head forward. Catching you even more by surprise as he placed his chapped lips against yours, his tongue instantly slipping past your parted lips to delve deeper.
Fuck.
The first time you’ve actually felt something for someone this had to happen. The premonition played clearly behind your eyes as you felt Bakugou’s tongue mould against your own, a deep timber groan vibrating against your mouth as he lost himself in the kiss.
Of course, whatever higher power couldn’t just let you be happy for once, you had to see the fate in store for Bakugou Katsuki.
Pulling away from your lips as his tongue poked out to taste your lipgloss, the corner of his lips curled into a smug smirk as you stared up at him in complete horror. This wasn’t good—
You’d hoped that his death would be a peaceful one, dying a natural death surrounded by his loved ones at a ripe old age. But it was anything but, the terrifying vision now imprinted onto your memory. And you wished he never kissed you, not only so he wouldn’t die but so you wouldn’t have to see this vision every time you close your eyes.
With one kiss you’d sealed his fate.
“Fuck,” He mumbled, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath.
You’d convinced yourself that as long as you didn’t kiss him, it would be okay— but now you’d seen the future you knew nothing would be okay.
Humans are such selfish creatures.
“Yeah, fuck.” You groaned.
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5
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Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP
Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.
I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Amber Gris (The Adventure Zone: Ethersea):
Middle aged woman who punches sharks to death. My hero
If you love me you'll vote for amber gris I swear to everything holy on earth amen
Amber is butch, instant win
Amber Gris has a negative charisma modifier and she pissed her pants on purpose in order to trick a guard and knock him out. She tied up a dude. She once killed an evil magic shark (they're out for murder. not like real sharks) by punching it and then picked it up and smashed it into another shark, also killing it. She talks in a southern accent. She calls people guppy because it indicates a lack of respect. She has a big pair of magical green arms that come from her stomach. She got a fancy jacket and immediately ripped its sleeves off. She has a gay thing going on with one of the political leaders in the city. She gets in fights with people and doesnt do vulnerability and tries to lay low and not get in any social trouble she doesn't have to. She jumped through a portal into a new world because she could. She's now the god of said world, alone with only afformentioned political leader, who was previously possessed and she had to fight. She spends her time in a bar called the Cloaca. She calls people she doesn't like claspers, because it means shark penis. She and her friend, an old man named Uncle Joshy, sneak attack each other and yell VIBE CHECK! She tries to talk fancy to impress people and she's really bad at it (verily).
She’s everything and more. She’s irreverent. She punches sharks for a living. She becomes God. What more do you need in a butch.
amber gris propaganda: she is straightup the physical embodiment of "women want me, fish fear me." also she's an appalachian post apocalyptic sea captain. that's just objectively cool.
AMBER GRIS IS PUNCHES SHARKS AND IS (one of) THE MOST BADASS BLACK WOMEN PCS IN DND SHOWS IVE EVER SEEN. SHES INCREDIBLE AND A WIN FOR DYKES EVERYWHERE
amber's creator said she was based off of the type of working-class woman you commonly see in appalachia where "this is the sort of woman that you see walking past CVS, and you know that a truck could hit her and it would just split around her as she continued to go pick up whatever she had to do that day." and that's pretty hot
guys Amber becomes lesbian god of the new world with her childhood “”friend””
#amber gris is LITERALLY a middle-aged butch #she would win this entire tournament in a just world
Last time Amber got horny was when she killed that shark
"it was a savage bummer though, don't-- trust me, there's nothing that great about a history. You know? I got one. What did I do, killed a bunch of sharks? Last time I got horny, god and christ I can't even tell you-- well, it was when I killed that shark. But! Hey. We're all just kinda figuring it out."
Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast: Bahumia):
She's a hot elf with mushrooms growing on her. She has 1 level of barbarian. She's bisexual. She shapeshifted into a dragon and ate a god.
how tf does the post not mention Moonshine’s giant boobs her greatest asset
Moonshine has canonically gone down on a woman for a solid hour without asking for anything in return. Moonshine edged a dryad just by kissing them. Moonshine faced down someone being controlled to kill everyone in his path and told him if he still wanted to hurt her, she would take his blows as a friend. Moonshine makes jambalaya for her family and friends. Moonshine mispronounced someone’s name for a month and that woman still wanted to hook up with Moonshine. These are just a few of the reasons why Moonshine is sexy.
shes illiterate
canonically huffs dirty water from a bong
has big tatas
wears a belly chain with a demon trapped in it
almost became the queen of hell
ate a god
turned into a pregnant moose & gave birth
The woman she went down on for an hour asking nothing in return is still hung up on her, 200 years later. Moonshine is unmatched
To be clear the woman whose name Moonshine mispronounced for a month and then hooked up with is the same woman she went down on for an hour, and the same woman who is still flustered over her 200 years later. The rizz is unparalleled. She’s also incredibly kind and accepting of others, and goes out of her way to bolster her friends. The party always requests one big bed.
moonshine cybin is a druid who learned counterspell through sheer force of will. moonshine cybin turned one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse into a dolphin, flew him 60 feet up into the air, dropped him on the ground, and then spit spores into his face to kill him. moonshine cybin turned into a dragon and bit the head off of a double god. moonshine cybin was willing to confine herself to an eternal hell to save the world. moonshine cybin is a dragon rider. you know what you must do.
Amber and Moonshine Together
Look at them. They should not have to fight when they could be gay instead. Imagine the power they would have combined... Every lesbian in a hundred mile radius of the post would swoon. It may be an odd alliance, but from an Ethersea fan to Bahumia fans, i believe this will strengthen both our odds. I have always been insane about Amber Gris but through this poll I have also learned about Moonshine and come to love her too. Take my hand... We can do this together...
OKAY HEAR ME OUT MOONSHINE AND AMBER WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL
appalachian sapphic solidarity!
Art of Amber and Moonshine from @pirateknight.
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ohimsummer · 2 months
Note
omg so. idk if you keep getting these ads all over snapchat and stuff like i have, but i keep seeing those ads for these lil thongs that have ur man’s name along the back. and every time i see them, my FIRST thought is imagine wearing those for satoru or suguru lmao
— minors dni, geto x afab! reader, pet names (sugar, darling), light degradation, suguru possession kink going brrrr, mentions of biting/marking/creampie, established relationship :3
⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ i went w/ suguru bc i like writing about speedrunning through breaking that man’s composure 🤭 and also satoru’s was sounding repetitive but I think HE’D buy them for you to begin with😭
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“darling, have you seen my–“
the question is a dying ember in suguru’s throat, and his silence prompts your curious gaze at him through the reflection. you’re tilted over his bathroom sink to get a closer look at yourself in the mirror, finishing up your nightly routine.
“seen your what, sugar?”
your boyfriend doesn’t answer the question. instead he eyes the bottom of your ass that peeks out from beneath your (his) shirt. surely you haven’t been prancing your pretty self around his apartment in just a shirt?
his hand approaches the hem of the top. “uhm, what are you–“ and you squeak out an ‘oop!’ as geto lifts the fabric to expose your behind. a huff seeps from your lips, faux annoyance as you massage face wash into your cheeks. “jeez, babe, at least take me to dinner, first.”
after getting no response, you prod at him further. “okay, suguru, i know the view back there is amazing but for real, what did you come in here for again?” still no answer. you pout at him through the mirror, though geto never sees your expression as his eyes are tangled in the words branded on your underwear.
‘why are you wearing these?’
‘where did you get them?’
‘you’re teasing me with this, aren’t you?’
all questions that die on his tongue, because how could he possibly get his thoughts together with all this blood rushing to the wrong head?
“oh, do you like my new thong? ordered it online, just for you.”
and god, you and that playful taunt, wiggling your ass as you giggle so nonchalantly. like this sexy little thong with suguru’s name on the band isn’t sending all his composure straight out the window. fist balled up in the t-shirt, it’s taking everything in him not to rip these damned panties off you. no, no, he needed them perfect and intact for the pictures he wanted to take later, after he’s done stuffing your slutty ass with cock and cum and painting your pussy white.
“you do these things just to get a rise out of me, don’t you?” geto finally sighs, pulling at the thin excuse for underwear right where his title resides; he tugs it back, gets a good eyeful of his name and it almost makes his brain go haywire. it elicits the same feeling as when he sees day-old hickeys on your neck—a ‘she’s mine’ so everyone knows the most gorgeous girl in the world is already spoken for. geto loves showing off that you’re his in all kinds of ways: you in his clothes, with his teeth indentations on your body, or bruises from his lips, hands clutching at your hips or an arm around your waist.
“suguru,” you set down your towel, face fully dry and you back up to press yourself against his front. “i’ve no idea what you’re on about.” your giggles and the knowing grin on your face say otherwise. “but i’m assuming you do like them, yeah? it’s like our own little secret.” and you grind your ass against the growing bulge in his pants, just a little something to send his heart racing even faster.
and, oh, he likes them alright. anything that says you’re his and suguru’s down for it. and if that includes having his cum drooling from every hole in your body, so be it.
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tagz: @anthoosies
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harocat · 9 months
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Why People (Especially Gay People) Should Watch Mysterious Lotus Casebook
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Thirty plus year old former greatest martial artist in the world, Li Lianhua, travels around in a poor man's version of Howl's Moving Castle dispensing sometimes quack, sometimes seems to be pretty accurate medical care to people throughout the land for a quick buck. He is dying a potentially preventable death because he was poisoned ten years ago and refused to seek treatment from his martial arts sect because he felt like he let them down (a lot of them died, and they think he died too). Hopefully he doesn't die for real at the end. He's been stripped of 90% of his martial arts powers, so he basically is just some guy. He does not GAF about almost anything. He likes to cook. He's smarter than everyone. He's our hero.
He has a cute dog by the way. Its name is Fox Spirit, but it is very much a dog.
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Along the way he meets Fang Duobing, an annoying, oblivious to class consciousness (but still lovable) rich kid who makes it his mission to travel together with Li Lianhua so they can solve crime. He has huge puppy energy. He wants to be an official detective, and he needs LLH to help him out. He has a serious case of heart eyes for his shifu, and he shows zero interest in any woman ever. He believes, due to a previous encounter, that he's destined to be Li Xiangyi's student in martial arts. Oh and Li Xianygi is Li Lianhua's true identity, so he's kind of like, FDB's shifu twice over. He has no idea that LLH is actually the swordsman of legend.... yet.
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Along the way they solve murder mysteries and also get involved in tomb raiding adventures complete with Indiana Jones style booby traps, backstabbing, and weird, creepy kids.
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By the way, LLH's archrival from a decade ago, before he left the martial arts world, was Di Feisheng. He leads up an alliance that LLH's was pitted against, and one that was viewed as a scourge in the martial arts world.
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LLH's last battle before his 'death' was with DFS, so the martial world believes DFS killed him, as does DFS. Di Feisheng finds him again, and is super DTF (fuck, or fight? actually both), but when he finds out that LLH lost his martial arts powers, he makes it his mission to restore them so they can have the final showdown they deserve.
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The fight scenes rule.
Were they friends in the past before they became rivals? We don't know yet. All we know is that they have extreme divorced energy, and DFS wants nothing more than to get remarried. He's gay. He's so gay. He's legitimately confused when he finds out that LLH has an ex girlfriend. He's seriously like 'I NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D BE INTERESTED IN WOMEN.'
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You bet your ass LLH is wearing a wedding dress here.
So all three of them travel together to solve murders, which they do, with aplomb. The whole time DFS pretends he doesn't care while making moon eyes at LLH and making sure no harm ever comes to him. Fang Duobing is confused and probably jealous.
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Yeah he really did pledge to marry Li Lianhua in like, episode two.
He also, at that point, has NO idea the true identity of either of them.
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Right now DFS is no longer traveling with them, but I believe he'll be back to them soon (he's still plenty involved in the story and present), and the three will continue their shenanigans. And anyway, he's still annoying LLH despite them not traveling together (to be fair, pretty much everyone annoys LLH). There's also sect drama! Secret alliances! Completely wack murder mysteries! And always with a side-dish of heavy homo. They're going to be the best found family.
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There's eighteen episodes of forty out right now, and it's streaming on IQIYI or wherever you choose to pirate your Chinese Dramas. It's EXTREMELY entertaining every single episode; funny, addictive, and yeah, pretty gay.
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notyourmajesty · 8 months
Text
Head empty no thoughts save for one: Henry's self-soothing shoulder dips
So a lot of people did point out certain self-soothing gestures Henry does when he's very stressed or panic mode...or sometimes even as a bit of a habit that keeps him grounded. Like fiddling with his ring or tilting his head to a side.
On my last few rewatches I've also started to think that Henry also has a tendency to fold in on himself when he's feeling overwhelmed. I've only noticed it in two scenes so far, and I've been making a connection since.
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The first time I noticed it was in the lake/almost-confession scene, where Alex speaks about a possible future unaware that the conversation is sending Henry into a panic. As soon as Alex tells him about the rope in his chest that keeps pulling him close to Henry, we see his shoulders move a little closer together, utter devastation written all over his face (I don't know whether this gif accurately shows that exact moment, but if it doesn't, here's the scene).
I feel like this is something he does as a self-soothing gesture. Something he does when he is aware he is getting into panic mode and needs to feel safe without anyone else noticing. Like he can feel the walls closing in on him, the exact thing he feared ("I can't afford for you to fall in love with me") this close to becoming a reality. His most fervent dream and his deepest nightmare all rolled in one.
So he does what he can do before Alex speaks that terrifying truth into existence. He folds in on himself, and jumps.
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I noticed a similar version of this action in the scene after the V&A dance, when Henry wakes up in Alex's arms the next morning. The context and the intent here, though, is very different. Often, for me, the most striking thing was always Alex's tight grip on Henry's wrist, reflecting both his fear of abandonment and the heartbreak he experienced when Henry left. And of course, Henry's little smile when he wakes up and remembers.
But on the rewatches I noticed that familiar little shoulder-dip action again, and this time the meaning of that gesture seemed to be that he DID feel safe. That Alex's presence, and touch, makes him feel safe. That Alex's arm around him was a reassurance he didn't expect to gain, that this is a moment that is all his to savour. He finds comfort in that embrace, and if anything that little shoulder-gesture will only pull Alex's arm closer to him.
Edit: @hopelessromanticlittleshit and @tell-a-tale also pointed out a scene of Henry's during Alex's official White House statement about the leaks, when he (and Shaan on his behalf) are being silenced by the "wrinkled old white man" representing Buckingham Palace.
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There is some shoulder action here too - again, in a different way and with a different context. In the other two scenes the gesture signifies either an attempt to protect himself or to an expression that he feels reassured and safe. Here his shoulders slump and his head tilts slightly- as a sign of utter defeat. Here he recognises the powerlessness of his position; he isn't even permitted a voice in a situation that has affected him. The head tilt here is a signifier of how disconnected he feels from this entire conversation.
This is a man who feels lost...and who feels he has lost a battle he's been fighting his whole life. (GOSH do I have things to say about Henry's Kensington sequences during Alex's speech!!!)
This also makes me think of the boys' relationship with touch. I've always felt like...of the two, Alex is the more obviously tactile one. It shines through every scene he has with every character. He snuggles with his mother after coming out to her. Nora and Alex sit close together in gestures of casual platonic intimacy. Even with Zahra, his "mean friend" you have that moment when a grateful Alex says "I could kiss you!" and her immediate response is "touch me and die". Even with the young women at the New Year party, he is comfortable with their touches, accepting kisses from them in the joy and exuberance of ringing in a new year.
With Henry, even at the height of his resentment, Alex touches his shoulder with his cake covered hand, bridges the gap between them during the interviews quicker, grabs his hand over a box of Cornettos. He's the one who wants to talk after Henry's kissed him and he's the one who makes the first move. Touch is important to Alex. It's how he seeks comfort, it's also how he seeks to soothe his loved ones.
Henry on the other hyperfocuses on the environment they're in, the people around them. Forever under the pressure of being gawked at, having his picture taken, his privacy never really his. The only people we see him close to are Percy and Bea - and in the one scene that Henry and Bea have together their touches on either others hands and arms are tentative, delicate. Careful.
(In a lot of ways Alex breaks through this barrier early on even as someone Henry barely talks to - the cakegate scene is FULL of little touches and pokes and jabs the two exchange, even though they're built up in the story as being antagonistic to each other at this point)
Hell, the first time Henry allows himself to be reckless and actually kiss Alex the way he has so desperately wanted to for years, he beats himself up over it, and punishes himself by avoiding any contact with Alex.
The few times Alex approaches to touch him without a second thought, Henry quickly, almost remorsefully, alerts Alex of their surroundings. But in the privacy of their rooms, he touches Alex with a certain desperation, a certain need to grab hold of the few moments that will belong only to them.
Alex is generous with his touch. Henry hoards the few moments of touch he gets like a priceless unexpected treasure that he has no hope of ever getting a second time.
I swear I intended this gd post to be about Henry's shoulder-dips only but somehow it turned into a different beast altogether 🤧
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evita-shelby · 8 months
Note
Hi, hello
This is my first request ever, please ignore my spelling mistakes if there's any, I'm French so...
So how abt the femreader /OC (as you want) has an illness and is destined to die but Tommy pursue her and falls in love with her anyway and then she dies and we see how he copes. I'm a sucker for angst.
Thank youuu
You are welcome 😊
I cried so hard i ran out of tp to clean my snot.
Promise
Gif by @manie-sans-delire-x
Cw: death, illness, grief, suicidal thoughts
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You hoped he’d forget about you while he was in France, but when he stepped down that platform he was as in love with you as when he had left.
You had broken things off with him before he even left and yet he returned to you as if nothing changed.
No matter how much you tried, Tommy never left your side.
Eventually you had to tell him the truth.
You were dying.
You had a year at most, the tumor was not operable, and it wouldn’t be long before you were dead.
“I can’t leave you, love, not when you need me most.” He had said as he held your face in his hands.
And he hadn’t.
Not when the barmaid showed up and made it clear to all that she wanted him, not when he provoked Kimber and certainly not when Campbell threatened to have the hospital deny you care if he didn’t give him the guns.
Campbell hadn’t expected you to laugh and spit at his face, “Do it, do your fucking worst, Inspector. I am dead anyways.”
You were dying, but you were never going to let Tommy and his dreams die with you.
You had a year.
And you had decided that your last wish was to see Tommy get the hell out of here and be the great man you know he is.
This you tell him as the two of you stand as witnesses for Freddie Thorne and his sister, Ada.
He couldn’t say no to you, he said so as you tied his tie for him and told him to drive you and Ada to the courthouse where Freddie was waiting with his cousins and a rabbi.
“It could be us up there,” he said quietly knowing you’d say no.
“Ask me again in a year.” You love him, and that is why you refuse to tie him to you like that.
Time passes slowly, you encourage him to pursue Grace because he needs the distraction. There was something there, on her side at least.
Not that he budged, said he didn’t need anyone else. Not when he had you.
“I’m going to marry you.” He says the words you feared the most. He did never learn to let go, even when death took those he loved most, he stood there refusing to let go.
“Tommy, I do not want to tie you to me like this. Not like this.” You plead for him to move on weeks later when he takes the barmaid to the races.
“I’m gonna marry you, when you go, I want you to go as my wife, y/n.” he vowed just as you vowed to see him succeed.
You supposed that is what had you say yes.
He wants to do things proper, keeping almost every tradition and custom in place that you find to your liking. Whatever you want for your big day, he and Polly make it happen.
Its sweet and thoughtful you think as he gets the two of you on a table at the Garrison and announced to all that the two of you will be getting married.
He had bought you a ring, a Claddagh ring like the one his mum had worn. Only difference was that the other one was lost in the Cut and yours had a red garnet heart to represent his love and devotion to you.
Tommy was a romantic, no matter what he did to hide it.
You dance in the dark of your room nights later to some old record your mama had since she settled here with your father.
“We could always elope, go somewhere just us and come back like our parents did.” He suggests and you nod.
As much as you’d like to do things properly, you’d rather get the things on your list done before you meet your maker.
Besides, that trip to Liverpool before the war had been lovely and you’d like to see the sea again before you go.
“I’d like that.” You say and that next morning the two of you set off to Liverpool like the wild teenagers the two of you used to be.
The wedding is lovely even if it happens in front of strangers, but the weekend the two of you spend as newlyweds is enough to make you forget your time is running out.
Perhaps when your health becomes worse you could return here, die somewhere beautiful away from everything.
“I wish we didn’t have to go back.” He admits as the two of you lie down on a blanket and enjoy the sun on your faces on your last day here.
“Once its over, we should come back here.” You say as if you knew for sure you’d be alive by then.
Zilpha Lee saw your death in the first chills of December. A black star and blood on Tommy’s heart.
It was late July now.
Only five months left in your clock. And you were going to make the most of it.
And you did, you danced at John and Esme’s wedding like there was no tomorrow. You gave the barmaid a good enough thrashing she never even got to call the police on Freddie and when little Karl was born it hurt your heart to know you would never have this with Tommy.
You wept like a baby in his arms as everyone celebrated down at the pub.
“Promise me you will love again.” You dry your tears and make him swear to live for you.
He cannot die with you, you refuse to let him.
“Don’t make me promise that, love, I’ve only ever loved you.” He shook his head, refusing to even think of a life without you in it.
It becomes the first of October that night.
You can’t hide your illness no matter what you do. A girl from the neighborhood is hired to help you and from your bed you play cupid between the sweet but never spineless Linda and the most unlikely dashing knight, Arthur.
When they finally go out ---with Finn to keep things proper--- it is late November.
And as if by magic, you are bursting with energy enough to leave your bed and make sure there is no loose string left by December 1st.
You are laughing with Polly over something when you see it in Tommy’s carefully annotated diary.
A black star on December 3rd.
He plans on having everything done by then, to deal with Kimber and Campbell that same day and spend the rest of your time on earth in a cottage by the sea.
It was supposed to be a surprise until you answered a call back from the woman renting it.
If only you could live long enough to get there.
But you won’t.
Zilpha had said on the day of the Black Star.
On December 3rd your time was up.
And you had fulfilled your mission, on that day Tommy would have reached the first step towards getting the hell away from here.
Only Polly knows what transpired during that meeting with Zilpha Lee and she holds you as your heart breaks all over again.
“Promise me you’ll take care of him.” You ask her as she holds you tight enough to put you back together again.
“Of course I will, sweetheart. Just like I told Martha Strong I’d take care of her boys and John’s Martha as well.” The older woman promised you as she gave you her Black Madonna.
Its is December 3rd when Tommy leaves the house as giddy as a boy on boxing day.
“After this it will be just us in that little cottage by the sea, love.” He had promised kissing you like there was no tomorrow.
And there wouldn’t be.
The moment the bullet strikes his chest, you collapse at his desk and never rise again.
By the time Jeremiah lets him go, you are gone.
That night, after the undertaker has taken you away to prepare you for burial, he takes your ring, a bottle of whiskey and his gun.
When he pulls the trigger, there are no bullets and he curses you for leaving and refusing to let him leave with you.
He wakes up in Charlie’s Yard, with his aunt and uncle wearing black for mourning.
“I promised her I’d take care of you, don’t make break that promise, boy.” Polly said as she helped him back on his feet.
After your funeral he leaves for the seaside, hoping to have the peace and quiet to finish what he started and yet as he sits there in ghe sand looking at the ring he gave you, he remembers your voice making him swear to live for you.
And he does.
On December 3rd 1922, he returns to the beach with May Carlton now wearing your ring on her finger.
“Thank you.” He whispers to the wind.
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myladysapphire · 5 months
Text
My Lady Strong (IV)
Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?
word count: 1,495
CW: bullying, feelings of neglect and isolation
Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)
Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part
disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC
a/n just to warn you Aemma is very naive and this chapter shows it, but shes 9 so what can you expect. also next chapter im planning a 4 year time skip, so Aemma will be 13 and Aemond 16.
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It had been nearly a year since the events of Driftmark. Since her mother and brothers had left to Dragonstone. A year since her fathers death. And yet she already had a new father, one she did not like, alongside his two daughters. She had also gained a new brother. But she hadn’t met him, and she doubted she would meet him soon. As each day passed the distance between Dragonstone and the red keep seemed to get bigger and bigger.
“My dear?” she heard Alicent call out, having gotten closer the last year, Alicent had become more and more of a mother to her, and being her 9th nameday and her mother and brothers nowhere to be seen, to Aemma it had began to seem like Alicent was more of a mother to her than her own. A fact little 9 year old Aemma could not stomach to admit.
“Yes?” she asked, looking up from her spot in the library. She had found her time often spent alone as of late. Aemond having become more distant since the incident. And Heleana, well was Heleana, keeping to herself, though she had become more and more isolated since her wedding to Aegon last month. And Aegon spent most of his time at the bottom of a bottle in the depths of kingslanding. So she resided in herself spending days in the library by herself, in a spot that used to be her and Aemonds to just becoming hers. And the few spare moments Aemond seemed to give her were spent training Vaghar, or watching him train with ser criston. He no longer wanted to chase after each other in the godswoods, or read in the library. Or simply just existing in each others company. She understood, somewhat, he was becoming a man, a man hell bent on learning everything in him to defend himself, to learn to fight. Everyone was growing up, but her, and she was being left behind.
“My sweet girl, what's wrong?” Alicent questioned, rounding the corner to see Aemma in what she knew to be her spot. “Hmm? You seem to spend every moment alone, and I know many girls at court who would die for a moment of time spent with you.”
“What girls? Helena only ever wants to be by herself, and seems to ignore me every time i spend time with her, and the last set of girls you summoned just whispered rumours behind my back. I don't wish to spend time with them, i just want Aemond, and he doesn't want me.”
Sighing, Alicent moved down to her level, talking her hands in hers, “that's not true, Aemond still adores you, he is, well-... he's becoming a man and needs time to grow, and after the events of driftmark, well they changed him, just give him time.
“Time? Thats all ive done, it's been almost a year, and not even a moon had passed after driftamrk has he started to ice me out. He was supposed to marry me, and yet he's completely changed!”
“He's a boy, a twelve, Trust me sweetheart, he's just a silly boy who thinks he has to do all of these things to make up for his lack of eye. He thinks you will not love him, think him to be hideous, that is why.” Alicent responded, soothing Aemma, by stroking her hair.
“Well that's just plain stupid!”
“I know,sweet girl, but all boys are.” Alicent continued “ know, we have a birthday ball and feast to attend, and my gift is waiting for you.” she said standing up and inviting Aemma up with her.
In her chambers, laid out on her bed was a white dress embellished with gold. It had puffed sleeves that slimmed down to cover her arm. The dress was lkonger than her usual dresses, and more wide, though not by much. Glod was laced around the neck line, and out edges of the dress, with gold and silver jewels scattered across it, creatijng a pattern down the bodedice. The white itself seemed to shimmer, as if moonlight was bouncing off it. When she put it on she felt pretty. She felt beautiful. Her hair was tied up with a gold ribbon, decorated with pearls and butterflies. For this she knew the gift was not Alicent but Aemonds, or atleast he had some influence. Butterflies. The thing they always used to chase, and the thing ameond loved to compare her too. Butterflies. 
The feast was magnificent, lords and ladies from all over Westeros had come, and she had received more than enough gifts and attention though not from anyone that mattered to her. 
Aemodn was there from the start, though he stuck to eating rather than actually spending any time with her. His attention seemed to be elsewhere.
“Aemond?” she questioned, trying to capture his attention “Aemond, are you enjoying the feast?” he did not reply, looking down at his plate instead, avoiding eye contact. “Aemond?” she pushed again “Aemond!? By the gods answer me!”
“Hmm?” he hummed looking up, allowing her to see the book placed in his lap.
“Gods why wojnt you talk to me?” she asked, moveing to turn to him, her eyes filling with tears, “ for the last six moons i have been acting like a stay dog trying to get your attenion, and now even at a feast helped in my honoru, you brign-” she reached forward grabbing Aemonds book “- a book. A book? To my own party, instead of talking to me. Why?”
“Aemma, please-”
“No, tell me.!”
“Gods, you're a child!” he snactehd the book from her hand, “your just a silly little girl, can't you understand that, you could not defend me, and when you had the chance to you ran off to your pathetic mother, and then come crying to me for help, whilst i have just lost an eye to your bas-” he shook his head, a look of shame fillking his face as he sees her eyes filled with tears, “gods!” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face, reaching forward “Aemma- it's been a lot lately, i have had to relearn everything, to fit with the loss of my eye, and i, look im sorry, i just snapped. But you have to understand, i cnat be a child anylonger, being your friend, and litening to your childish escapades caused me to be in this situation. Now I have to be a man, I have to stop being a child.”
“So you have to stop being my freind, to go on your silly little- your, to be a man? What does that even mean?!” she cried, “it's my nameday, can you not just be my friend for today?” she was begging,it was almost pitiful. 
Aemonds face changed, snapping form the look of shame and regret to annoyance, to cold and still, a face evewryone would soon be familiar with, “ and why would i want to do that” he sneerd, dropping her hand, and standing up, before briskly leaving the room without a single glance back. 
The rest of her night was spent alone. With Heleana leaving not shortly after Aemond, followed by Aegon muttering something about doing his husbandly duty. Alicent and her grandsire had already left an hour in, the King's health failing him, and forcing many of the lords and ladies to leave, as if their only purpose was to talk to him and not her. So she was left all by herself bar a few older cousins that she did not know. 
But the remaining hours she was forced to stay, many lordlings asked her to dance, and it turns out Alicent had already summoned some more girls to King's Landing, arranging a meeting  witht them at her own ball. Taking her mind of the event sthat had happened prior, evne if for a few hours. For a few hours she wasnt so alone, for a few hours she was just a nine year old girl celebrating her name day, celebrating with her friends. People who over the next four years would become the only people she truly had.
And when she did finally retire to her rooms, and she was well and truly alone she cried, she knew no one would knock and have late night celebrations, just as no one had knocked at midnight to wish her a happy name day. Just as Aemond did not spend every second of the day with her, smuggling her all the food she wanted, and giving her a gift for every hour of the day. She spent it alone, and she would spend the next four namedays alone, crying. She would celebrate with her ladies, though it would never be the same, she owuld dance with strangers, and not ameond, where dresses gifted by people other than her mother and Aemond. Her family would become more distant and Aemond becomes less and less her Aemond.
next part
Taglist (bold means could not tag)
My lady strong: @aemondssiut@idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19 @wolfiealina @unique7676 @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew
Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @flrboyd @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar
Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter
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blackkatdraws2 · 5 months
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Save me Mr. Zhao.... save me.... (He's my OC)
QUICK OC SUMMARY:
[His daughter finds out about human fashion shows, and she wants to make outfits one day.
Due to her not having any friends, she turned to Mr. Zhao to wear the dresses that she makes, and Zhao being the proud dad that he is, agrees everytime.
She takes him outside with her, always begging him to wear the outfits she made him wear. Zhao, although a bit hesitant to go out in such "revealing" clothing, agrees to make his daughter happy anyway.]
[His entire lore down below, it contains dark topics so be careful when reading.]
A summary of his character, he used to be a strict corporate bastard. Then an apocalypse in his original world happened and he was left to fight for himself. He was taken and sold as a slave for the demon king, Asmodeus, who took a liking to him and decided to turn him into one of his plentiful concubines.
Although he's a biologically human male, when Asmodeus transformed him into a demon, the genes passed on to him were of female demons. A succubus, perfect for bearing the child of Asmodeus.
After he conceived his daughter, he steels his nerves and decides to run away from the horrible mansion of concubines fighting for ranks and tearing each other down in order to be more appealing to Asmodeus. He doesn't want his daughter to grow up in that kind of environment, but unfortunately his daughter was caught by Asmodeus who then took her and exiled Mr. Zhao with the threat of killing his child if he ever sees his face again.
Mr. Zhao, loosing both the luxury of having a roof over his head and his beloved baby daughter, felt like he was almost going to die because of grief. After sneaking around the darker marketplace for a while, he is spotted by a group is succubuses, who realizes he is part human and takes him back into their den, a red district brothel.
First he thought he was done for and just accepted his fate to be used and eventually die, but in a surprising turn of events, it turns out that the Madame of the brothel was actually similar to him.
Another human transformed into a demon. But she didn't come from his world, she came from somewhere else, somewhere ancient because demons live for a very long time, and it's clear that this person has been here for a while.
She gives him a home, and eventually over a few couple years, the brothel eventually becomes almost like a second home to him, filled with his sisters, aunties, and his friends and families.
He doesn't do any work, he's free to just stay in the brothel and recover. He's allowed to go out and do his own thing too.
A couple hundred years later, a portal opens to the demon world and it gets invaded by warriors that came from Mr. Zhao's old world. Modern people turned into hardened soldiers because of the apocalypse.
Mr. Zhao takes advantage of this chaos to team up with the humans and take his daughter back, with pure luck, he ends up jumping into a stray portal and ends up in an alternate reality where the apocalypse never happened. His daughter was also there with him.
He was now back, not as the succubus who's Asmodeus' concubine, but as the old man named Zhao, who is his company's chief executive.
They live a few years in the modern world, adjusting to the peacefulness of this world. His daughter finds out about human fashion shows, and she wants to make outfits one day.
Due to her not having any friends, she turned to Mr. Zhao to wear the dresses that she makes, and Zhao being the proud dad that he is, agrees every time.
She takes him outside with her, always begging him to wear the outfits she made him wear. Zhao, although a bit hesitant to go out in such "revealing" clothing, agrees to make his daughter happy anyway.
He ends up becoming popular in the general area he lives in, becoming great friends with the residents (and especially the women) there. If you needed advice on makeup or fashion, he and his daughter were the first person they'd go to.
Her daughter starts to take pictures of him and posts it on her social media, and to her surprise, it ends up exploding online!
She ends up becoming a renounced fashion artist in the future, and Mr. Zhao a (very proud dad) popular free time model.
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rzyraffek · 1 year
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Saw that your requests are open!
How would the Sinclairs brothers, Brahms, and Billy Lenz react if their s/o places flowers in their hair? Like flower crowns, daisies, wildflowers.
Thank you! Have a good day/night :3
OMG THATS THE CUTESTS REQUEST EVER!! You didnt say what pronouns to use so i'll go with they/them! Its fully SFW! Request open
Slashers with s/o that makes flowercrowns!
Vincent
This guy, he will litteraly cry pls why is s/o so nice to him😭😭😭
I swear this guy will treat his flowercrown like the most delicate and important thing is his life pls😭
Like he will feel bad when flowers die and started looking all ugly :((
But except that! He will beg for tutorial! Pls teach him how to make those, and he will give them one too
Also he probably loves drying flowers becasue they look pretty forever! Also he totally needs to learn how to sculp flowers in wax
Vince is gonna to give flowercrowns to Lester and Bo! Sharing is caring
Bo Sinclair
This dude will pretend like he doesnt care about it, actin all tough, but omygod if s/o wont give him next flowercrown when this one gets old? He be offended
Wym you thought he didnt like last one??? Pff
Nah but fr he will be like 'woah thanks sunshine'
Also he thinks that s/o should be the one wearing those pretty crowns. And vincent would totaly love them too.
He will tell them 'can you make one for Vince too? He gotta love this type of stuff'
Lester Sinclair
I forgor this guy exists and I almost posted without him
He will hang all the flowers they gave him in his epic truck! Will show them off too!
Im not going to be surprised if this guy already knows how to make flowercrowns and give some to s/o and by some i mean A LOT
He will come back home with hands full of wild flowers just for them!
Brahms Heelshire!
This guy will giggle and blush when he sees what they put on his head
Bro prefers to look at flowers outside than inside really. But If its a gift he guesses he will keep it? Next time give him dried flowers pls
he will be so mesmeraised and stunned, especially if s/o has her own crown too! They both deserve it!
to be honest this guy looks like one of those pollen allergies mf, so he will sneeze and die. 'you wanted to poison me!!' 'Man idk I just like flowers'
Billy Lenz'
No Billy you can't eat flowers
He probably destroys it by accident tbh, hes very chaotic. But please give him more!!
In summer he probably goes outside, especially when yall have house with garden, he probably just sits there looking what s/o is up to. Aslo probably hugging them tightly
When s/o manages to put one crown on him without him moving and bouncing all around the place hes going to look up and grab it every 5secdons to make sure its still there
Also he will sniff the flowers before allowing them on his head he likes to know how they smell
Jason Voorhees
Ik hes not in request but he's litteral definition of this prompt
This guy will come back home with hands full of wildflowers!
Putting random singular flower on his head>>
He wants to learn how to do crowns!! (I mean he knows he just pretend he doesnt so he can spend more time with his s/o)
Also he will decorate house with rest of flowers! Now whole home smells like meadow!
Live laugh love Jason
Yall have no idea how happy I am when I get requests!! Thanks for all of them!! I post it at 2am! Have lovley day yall🥰
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fillinforlater · 4 months
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Blonde: Chapter III
Female Reader x Kim Gaeul
Length: 2500 words
Tags: angst/fluff, another bad day, losing your dignity, illness, someone who cares, there is a fever dream, Gaeul's relationship, struggling with your identity, we got a twist at the end
Inspiration: "Why Am I Like This?" by Orla Gartland
(A/N: Finally, another chapter to this slowly developing plot. I jope you enjoy it. @firagaarmor for obvious reasons)
"Didn't you say 108,000?"
"No, sir, it's 180,500 won."
"Oh, I see."
The old, fragile fingers of this confused, bald man creep back into his purse, trying to find another bill in what is probably a maze of money and plastic cards for him. You wouldn’t mind it one bit, you get paid either way and on usual nights, traffic is so little that barely anyone else gets inconvenienced. However, tonight is rather unusual. Apparently everyone forgot something and is now in a haste to buy said something. There is a long line of impatient stressed moms, annoyed teenagers and everything in between or beyond showing or voicing their disapproval.
It’s not you, you’re not the cause for their stress and discomfort, yet the customer’s toxicity still flies to you like you’re some kind of magnet. It all comes back to stab you, with passive-aggressive remarks or the glances up and down your small frame. Doesn’t really help that you only had cold ramen noodles, sweets and a little bit of bread in the past five days and that the ice cold showers make your nose itch with an impending cold. God, you must look pathetically miserable, even for your standards.
After the man finally gets his cash together, the checkouts are fast, heartless, and your heart aches for her to be at the end of the line. Gaeul—with her bright hair and even brighter smile to greet you when she is out buying drinks again—she could really save this evening. You yearn for her encouragement and presence more than for the next hot meal. Maybe even more than for the next two hot meals. 
But there is no blonde angel to save you tonight. With the last customer buying their groceries, the lights die one by one, leaving you in a mostly empty store, alone with thousands and thousands of tasty and not-so-tasty products you’d love to put into a pan and fry. The thuds of your sneakers on the floor almost drown out the grumble in your stomach or the sniffling of your nose as you walk into yet another cold night with nothing to look forward to. 
I fucking hate this shit. 
#
You want to vomit, throw yourself off your bed, tear every single strand of your dark hair out as you dial your mother's number again. You hope it’s over quickly, but one can never know with her, especially if she still stubbornly refuses to help you. Take deep breaths, try to keep your head straight though thinking has become more and more exhaustive with every calorie you’re missing. 
“What is it?” your mother groans, though you find her tone to be a lot more amused than last time. Someone is cheering and laughing in the background, drowning out even the loud TV. 
“The bills, mom. I still have no electricity, no hot water, no heater.”
“Oh right.”
A response colder than your room. You try to straighten your back to speak to her loud and clear, with at least some authority, but you feel yourself crumble when the clanking of bottles loudly booms through the speaker.
“Did… did your boss finally pay you?” you carefully ask, earning an immediate response.
“Yes, he did.”
“Then why didn’t you pay the bills?”
Silence, except for the crime drama running in the back, finding all the suspects and then the killer, as they always do. This case right here is totally clear, no one needs to investigate for more than five minutes to find out that she is at fault, yet it feels like you're on trial, awaiting your parole, which for some reason is still in the balance.
“You know, sweetheart,” your mother cheekily responds, her saliva loudly flopping around in her mouth, mixed with the disgusting flavor of cigarettes and beer. “I really worked hard for that money. It’s my money. In the end I can decide what happens with it.”
Oh God, don’t do that, please for the love of—and don’t call me sweetheart.
“You can’t be serious,” you barely chirp out, your heart throbbing, crumbling like your entire body as you can see your entire foundation, the fragile remains of your fake stability finally falter. You can never cover all of your expenses with this one job and you can’t quit school now, not after getting so close to finally finishing it. You need her money and she seems to finally use it against you.
“It’s just the truth,” she responds nonchalantly, her voice a lot lighter and higher in pitch than usual. You hear someone cackle in the background.
“Sweetheart.
Don’t call me that.
“How about you—
Don’t do this.
“—start begging for my money. C’mon! Get on your knees and beg for it! I’m tired of funding your lazy, incompetent lifestyle. You should be so grateful for my throwing money at you all these years. 
“I didn’t hear you! Get your lazy ass out of your bed now, and on your damn knees.
“Beg for it.”
Laughter from behind her. It's not the TV.
#
A hot shower, warm noodles, a cozy bed—they never felt so wrong, so disgusting. Even as your life objectively improves, it feels horrible, like you had to sell yourself and your soul for it to happen.
Your knees are still drawn to the floor. You might sit in a chair, listen to teachers all day or sit at the checkout, pulling items over the scanner, your knees still feel like they should get on the floor and beg.
Please let me pass.
Please give me more money.
Please leave me alone.
Please ignore my embarrassing existence.
"Hey."
"Uhhh, good evening, ma'a—Gaeul?"
Gaeul's dainty fingers catch your shoulders as you slump forward, against the checkout counter and almost fold over. Your body, devoid of energy, loses all tension.
“Hey, hey,” Gaeul calls out to you, and like the caring mother you never had, the warm palm of her hand cups your forehead. “Oh lord, you’re so hot! You’re definitely sick, what are you doing here?”
“I-I have to work,” you respond, a wave of something hot and heavy pressing down on your brain. This lava burns itself into you and makes every thought process excruciatingly hard. You haven’t even noticed it until now. “I’m not sick, every-thing is fine.”
Your smile is weak, dozy and fake, it cannot fool Gaeul a bit. Her beautiful face falls into deep wrinkles of worry as you can barely lift yourself out of her supporting arms. There is an awkward pause between the two of you, only interrupted by another customer clearing their throat. You try to get back to scanning, but one of Gaeul’s cans slips through your fingers a couple of times.
“I don’t think you should do this,” Gaeul says quietly, softly. “You don’t need to prove your toughness, it’s okay to be sick for a few days. I think your boss will understand.”
“Really, Gaeul, I’m okay.” The final can, straight into the blonde’s bag. Through your blurry eyes you can barely make out the color of her jacket, or sweater, or whatever it is—either way, it definitely suits her. “Thanks for worrying though.”
#
Why did I push her away like this? Why didn’t I listen to her? Why am I always like this?
Everything is hot and everything is cold. You need another jacket or the cold will get worse, but it simultaneously feels like you could die from overheating if you don’t start throwing away layer after layer of clothes. The way your body feels is close to how the inner mechanisms in your brain work in this fever haze. There is nothing, no thought, no conclusion, nothing that matters—yet everything is suddenly relevant.
Objects and details you’ve never actively released before come into focus of your decreasing sight, that one tile in the corner, just as dirty and unspecial as the rest, the second package of gum, purple and pink, the spooky hum when the door opens that never appears when it closes. So you stumble out of the store, tripping over your feet until the fever finally strikes you down.
The concrete, its gray color, is darker the colder it gets. It’s also harder, torturous to lay upon, scorching hot skin on freezing tarmac. Suddenly, brand new sneakers, black and white, small feet, about as small as your own, though they could be—
“Oh my God!”
—a bit bigger, judging by the length of the stockings covered legs that—
“Here, I’ll help you”
—disappear in a plaid skirt, above a combo of thick winter jacket and—
“I knew this was bad. Taxi!”
—a girl, whose hair is both silver and golden, a blonde close to whiteness, nonetheless it looks like a crown adorning and framing her perfectly formed features.
Gaeul.
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#
You’re lost in a dream. A school full of students, their ages varying drastically and you do not recognize a single face. The teachers seem a lot more familiar, though they float through the room carelessly, gravity not applying to them. In fact, gravity only applies to you, as the rest of the students fly around the room with their chairs and desks.
A frame of an angel, her hands brushing your cheek, scorching hot, so she puts a wet towel on your face. That’s so nice of her, you must be sick. Sick or not, you cannot miss the day you go to the zoo with the floating class.
The zoo is filled with people, nothing but people. People that look at odd people. Those that have to stand on one leg, those that can’t talk properly, those who like weird things. You can hear your whole class laugh hysterically at all of them, so weird, so wrong, nothing better than to laugh at sickos and be glad that you’re not one of them.
“Uhm, hi.” A voice in the far background, damp, behind a shut door. “Care to explain why you have another girl in your bed?”
You feel like you have to explain yourself, but words are nothing more than concepts in your head, also the zoo is calling, you have to watch the lively corpses float through the water tanks. Luckily, someone speaks for you. The angel.
“She’s a friend and she is sick. That’s all there is to it, Yujin.”
"Oh, really?" The other voice is skeptical, eyebrows raised and she looks for a clever response. “I guess she got sick while laying in your bed? Gaeul, don’t lie to me, okay? Just be straightforward with me.”
“I—” the angel stutters and falls silent. You however found a new enclosure in this zoo which stretches in all directions. This one is rather empty and the enclosure is also no enclosure, just a mirror with a writing above it: ‘Sicko girls that like other girls’.
The reflection is you, of course, in all your—
“What am I going to do with you, hm?” The other voice, now a tall woman of incredible beauty, twirls a couple of golden strands of the angel and tugs them behind her ear with a weak—dishonest, you feel—smile. “The long hair suited you better. I really liked that.”
“I know, Yujin.”
The reflection is you, in all your fault and imperfection, far from perfection and any heavenly being. You are no angel, just a sicko girl that likes girls—and the whole class is laughing.
#
You open your eyes, but the aching, hot pain in your temple and a heavy, wet towel on top of it make actually seeing, realizing anything a pain in the ass. Just the outline of a small face looking down on you, very familiar, very pretty—oh, what a relief to have Gaeul be the first thing you see.
“Wh-where am I?” you ask past dry lips.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Gaeul turns around and quickly reaches for a bottle of water. “Here, drink this, your body needs a lot of water now. You’re in my—my friend's apartment.”
“Damn, then it must have been real fucking bad—”
You cover your mouth, realizing your loud curse in a foreign room, foreign bed, where are your manners, they might have foreign customs. Gaeul’s eyes fall shut when she begins to lightly chuckle. 
“Don’t worry, she’s not here right now,” Gaeul says. “You’re all good. B-but you can’t stay here forever. Just rest up and—you have somewhere to stay, right?”
You carefully remove the towel from your face, catching all the drops running down your forehead as you think about home, your home, finally warm because you threw away your dignity. You’d love to not go there, tear up the contract for rent and run away to something new—into independence.
“Yeah, yup, I—I have a place, don’t worry. Sorry for all the trouble, fuck, I don’t even remember what—I did it again.”
Now Gaeul is holding her stomach, laughing, hitting the blanket that covers your legs and you join her. Though you might sit upright, you feel like falling over, the dizziness, Gaeul’s laugh, they make you feel like you’re still in that dream with the angel. The angel, so ethereal, but made fragile by this voice. A woman.
Suddenly, yours and Gaeul’s face are almost touching, her arms are on your shoulders, yours on her side, her petite frame is in your palm. The laughs have faded, smiles remain but you feel your heart racing. The smile fades and you’re tense. Gaeul is right there and she is so, so pretty.
“You sure you’re alright?” Gaeul asks as she sees your blush. You blush even more and avert your eyes.
“Y-yeah, thank you. You helped a lot. But—
“—are you okay too, Gaeul?”
That’s a smile full of uncertainty, a hint of anger, a glow of hurt. Gaeul’s eyes sparkle and you’d love to blow some life into them. Even better, all the love you have for her, you want to pour it into her and give her power. But no, you have no idea nor any plan to do such a thing. So it’s Gaeul who helps you out of the bed and hands you one of her sweatshirts that isn’t drenched in sweat.
“You are the one with a fever, I’m as healthy as ever!” Gaeul is so bright and her smile shines like a star. In a different universe, she is already a celebrity with a perfect red carpet smile. Fake.
“I didn’t mean that.” In a surge of confidence and worry, you reach for Gaeul’s hand and everything's in slow motion. “I-I’m scared that you’re not happy, that something isn’t right, that—Gaeul, I heard you talk to your friend and she seemed—”
“Look, I—she isn’t my friend.”
Gaeul looks at you. 
“She is my girlfriend.”
Gaeul still looks at you. Now it’s your turn to fake a smile and get it over with.
...
(A/N2: Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more chapters, though it will take time until the next release)
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Finals
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Propaganda
Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show
Young hot rocker dilf
Loyal to his dead wife <3
Does in fact smoke weed
BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)
His band was a Christmas cover band btw.
Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy
Anti government (ofc)
Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)
Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??
Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch
One incredibly buff arm
Has a pet rat named after his son <3
Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged
OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE
HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON
A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)
HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS
IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED
Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence
Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!
I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.
Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so
HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.
Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP
Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.
I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.
vote Glenn I am asking with the biggest saddest eyes possible 🥺🥺🥺 he is so sexy it's pathetic and also so pathetic it's sexy, no I can not possibly adequately elaborate just trust me
Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.
Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.
Gable (Campaign: Skyjacks):
7ft tall silver-haired thembo of a fallen angel. was the literal sword of god until they killed him! reasons slightly unclear but probably sure to forbidden queer love! super caring for their friends. has one friend they have known for hundreds of years who they HATE but are bound to by the red string of fate. their sword is a part of them, they can sheathe it into a tattoo. they start out indistinct at the edges but as they have continued on through the campaign they have become more and more distinct. they became a flaming engine of justice to kill their friends shitheaded older brother who was following him. they have learned enough necromancy to allow other fallen angels to die, even though they typically cannot. they fly giant birds in to battle.
7ft tall beefcake wielding a sword as tall as they are. vengeful sweetheart
Imagine now: a fallen angel with beautiful gray hair and very big muscles. Now imagine them with a 9 ft sword. Now imagine them as a helmsperson of a pirate ship in a flowy deep-v pirate shirt. Now imagine they're dumb as a fucking rock. And finally, imagine that they killed god. Here, you have made Gable Skyjacks: sexiest podcast character of all time.
7ft tall nonbinary/genderfluid thembo fallen angel sky pirate who wields a buster sword. silvergrey hair with black/gold streaks as they regain feathers/memories of before their fall. back is covered in tattoos that hide the scars of their shredded off wings. killed God. toxic exes with lucifer. they are the keeper of several giant war birds who occasionally crave human flesh. they enjoy getting rowdy/smoking rope with their boys. they collect rocks that they think are neat. When anyone admits they are attracted to them, Gable trips over their words and absolutely swaglessly ends up sounding stupider and sexier by the end of the conversation; the will they/won't they and teasing they dish out to these (un?)lucky few is palpable. Sometimes the buster sword is on fire. They are immortal, they are cringe, they are trying to atone because they believe they are the reason the world is ruined.
Okay so aside from all of the above (giant with a matching giant flaming sword, killed god, extreme dumbass), here's some more propaganda for Gable the Godkiller.
They've escaped death multiple times with their partner in... crime? Like literally they were about to be executed in the most brutal way possible and just. Escaped and killed all their captors in the snowy wastelands.
They are the helmsperson of the Uhuru and take this job very seriously and definitely haven't left it to Bowser (you know, like from Mario) multiple times. Can steer that flying ship in horrible weather and still make it to port safely.
Healed an entire fucking hospital by cutting their hair for someone they had the hots for who was also in the hospital. Imagine being on that level of myth making in some random port city because of a hair cut.
Giant bird caretaker and also took the giant birds out on their friend's bachelor party (this was like. his Xth polyamorous marriage at this point btw) and had a fucking blast getting high on some rope and fucking around. They've also flown these birds into combat and looked cool as hell doing it (see: killing their friend's shithead of an older brother in a joust).
Had a relationship with Lucifer the Morning Star before they fell as an angel and killed God. Literally the reason the stars fell was their love for each other. The world would not look the same without Gable and they are, at the very least indirectly responsible for the creation of the Church of the Slain God and everything it represents (fantasy Catholicism).
And also yeah they are regularly tripping over themself and saying very silly things. 10/10 character we love Liz Anderson and Gable in this house
I am seeing people say that this Nicky fellow is basically trans! That's very cool! Gable is actually trans. Pronouns they/them/any presentation whatever they feel like.
Gable held a bachelor party for a BFF where the attendees hunted from their sky birds, wore dresses, and still managed to keep their eyeliner on point!
Gable killed God because he wouldn't let them be queer. They should rightfully crush anyone in their path.
We are finally going up against a character I know. I can confidently say all sexy moments with Gable are much sexier than TAZ's largely off-screen romances. Mod Note: This was written during the poll versus Killian Fangbattle.
But seriously. Listen to Gable's most recent introduction. Unparalleled sexy thembo introduction! Context: The Captain's Council is at a magical tattoo/piercing parlor (which has a lengthy form and disclosure process), trying to stay below the radar, and the Captain and Jonnit are pretending to be father/son to keep up the ruse. And to let Jonnit get a tattoo, since he's technically sort of underage. Bonus: Gable's decision at the tattoo/piercing parlor and noping out of Orimar and Jonnit's acting. (You should check out the full episode! Episode 197 starts a new arc and a good point to step into the series!)
Nicky Close (Dungeons & Daddies):
One armed half-demon man with a sword (also a Dedicated, Involved, Loving Father). (Specifically campaign 2, where he is an adult)
Transmasc bisexual (or at least so widely accepted as such it's basically canon) dilf half-demon let's start with the basics
And by half-demon I mean the literal prince of Hell
But also simultaneously is Saint Nicolas get you a man who can do both specifically this man
Missing an arm cause his ex-friends tragically betrayed him and shot it off but he doesn't need two arms to show you a good time wink wink ;)
The betrayal in question forced him to be seperated from his also hot milf voice actress wife and their son which is sad but in like a way that makes him sexier
Uses his one hand to wield a flaming katana that he used to rescue his son from the FBI
Protects his family with his life very literally which is hot as hell
Big himbo energy couldn't come up with a good plan if he used 100% of his brain
When he does fail at things it's pretty cute honestly
Definitely played a variety of musical instruments before the whole arm thing happened! Maybe he still does idk he's a sexy mystery
2 in 1 deal! This man was born from the merging of two timelines! Kinda sick!!! Also two dads = twice the daddy issues
You'd think the whole being forcibly split from his family thing would mean he isn't very close with his son but nope! His son adores him! They get along great!!!
His mom is simultaneously alive and dead
His mom bagged fucking two different dudes (one of whom FOUND HER DEAD in a different timeline, both of which are demons)
HIS MOMS NAME IS MORGAN FREEMAN, HIS DAD’S NAME IS GLENN CLOSE, AND HIS OTHER DAD’S NAME IS JODIE FOSTER, AND HIS GREAT SOMETHING GRANDFATHER’S NAME IS MERYL STREEP
HIS SONS NAME IS TAYLOR SWIFT
Lifelong pot smoker 👍 (plus drug flower user!!)
CANONICALLY BOTH A POLO WEARER (and yes, has all the stereotypes of that attached with it — a nerd, which is hot) AND A LEATHER JACKET WEARER (which also has all the stereotypes attached with it — a rebel dude person, which is also hot) [<- all widely accepted as canon by the fandom even as he’s older]
A part of the SECOND BIGGEST ship of season two, (Nark) despite the two characters only having one-two canon interactions (one of which JUST happened last episode)
Man’s a himbo what’s hotter than that
So many fucking names. You try to tag him in anything and he takes up half the space. That’s probably hot. For someone out there
This was already mentioned but so very very trans. Like. It’s basically canon
Rock and roll(er)
Joined a group of thieves called the watermice when he was like 13
for a few minutes had a guitar called the Battle Axe of Hatred
definitely had an frienimies with benefits relationship with his childhood friend Lark (sorry ppl that don’t ship nark lol) (it’s canon after ep 44 hah)
Nicky also acts like his sons Pokémon! Taylor tells his dad to do things, and Nicky does it without thinking about anything else he could do!
I feel like the audio of the entire Nick-breaking-into-the-FBI scene should be propaganda, but I'm copying select bits from the transcript:
Anthony: Yeah, it kind of echoes up through the vent, like the beginning of Metal Gear Solid. You hear a voice that strikes you as ever so slightly familiar, Taylor. Saying—  ??: [a deep voice] [echoing in the vent] Where is he?  Anthony: You hear—  Will: Uh-oh, he’s hot.  Anthony: —a bunch of shouting voices.  [giggles]  Beth: Uh-oh! Anthony: You hear a bunch of shouting voices and people shouting for him to get down on the ground to turn off his flame. To fucking get his hands behind his back. You hear this rhythmic stepping forward— because his footsteps don't sound like anybody else's because it's almost like… y’know when you toss a little bit of water onto a really hot pan and it just sizzles like that? It's like every footstep he's taking, you can hear that— Freddie: Cool  Anthony: — and you can feel some of that heat coming up in this vent, even though you can't see him at this point. And he goes—  ??: [echoing] Where. Is. My. Boy? Anthony: You hear the FBI agent—the FBI in quotation marks agent—in the back going like—  Agent: [echoing] He's safe for now. If you want to go ahead and make sure that he stays that way, you feel free to go ahead and step inside the suite that we've prepared for you, my boy. Anthony: And you hear the hot guy voice saying—  [chuckles]  The Hot Guy: [echoing] I don't think that's going to happen.
...
[a powerful rush of air builds] Anthony: You hear—  [gunfire, and the air rush culminates in a burst of flame; from underneath the fire, metal music starts playing] Anthony: —plumes of flame exploding.  [a person’s pained shout, gunfire and bursts of flame continue]  Anthony: You can feel the heat radiating through this metal vent and it's actually beginning to hurt and burn your hands.
...
Anthony: And you hear blood—  [sizzling]  Anthony: —hitting the fucking ground and you hear sizzling and things boiling and burning. Taylor: That could just be coffee! That could just be coffee. Link, let's go. Anthony: And you are getting closer and closer to the elevator. And you hear that same hot voice say—  The Hot Guy: [echoing] Where the hell is Taylor?
Gable and Nicky Together:
We are on a joint ticket now! This is a truly unbeatable combo. Not even god can nerf it because Gable killed him. Vote for us. Nicky Close will watch your stuff and play with your cats while Gable gives you the night of your life.
Gable and Nicky can literally be yuor angle or ur bevil.
Art of Gable and Nicky from @slightlyhopefulromantic.
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marzghost · 6 months
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MK1 Headcannons I have in no particular order
Bi-han was a mama's boy.
Bi-han loves his brothers but has a hard time expressing his love since his father trained him way harder as he was the oldest and the one that would become grandmaster when he died
Bi-han's betrayal was his own way of showing his love for his brothers because in his mind if he could get the lin kuei stronger and get them more say in things then just being body guards then that in turn means his brothers ,who were also lin kuei at the time, would be protected and could also help change earthrealm for the better
Bi-han and Kuai Liang have a hispanic mother
Bi-han is better at speaking spanish than Kuai Liang as he spent most of his time with her when their father was off training Kuai and Tomas
Their mother is actually the reason Bi-han let their father die, she wanted more for her son's then just being another set of soldiers sent out to their possible death so she told Bi-han that if there ever comes a time to let the old man die
Bi-han hates mirrors because he looks almost exactly like his dad
Kuai Liang takes after their mother in looks but isn't an exact copy like Bi-han is
Bi-han hates Tomas because he had it easy compared to Kuai and himself and because Tomas was almost like a replacement for the sister who never got to live as she died at birth along with their mother due to birth complications
Tomas wasn't trained as hard as the other two but he still went out of his way to prove himself worthy of being a lin kuei and had always looked up to Bi-han ever since he was a young boy
Bi-han's betrayal hit Tomas harder than he let on but he refused to show it believing that he had no right to feel as bad as he did since Bi-han was Kuai Liang's blood brother and he wasn't lin kuei
Tomas is really good at hand shadows
Bi-han hasn't cried since the death of his mother and hasn't been the same since
Kuai Liang is naturally really good at dancing and didn't need to learn like Bi-han did
Tomas is not at all a dancer but he sure as hell can sing
Bi-han actually really respects Johnny Cage as he not only beat him in combat but also his brother
Johnny Cage is a pansexual
Johnny has never cheated on a partner despite his flirting ways
Johnny goes all out for Halloween and used to make his mansion into a haunted house before he had to sell it in order to pay for the divorce settlement
Johnny is a huge history nerd and enjoys reading up on the history of the realms in his free time when he isn't working on his MKCU or helping Kenshi with his whole thing
Johnny is a huge supporter of the arts and buys most of his stuff from small time artists and businesses
Johnny learned braille so Kenshi didn't have to do it alone
Kenshi was really good at art before he was blinded and hates that he can no longer paint like he used to. He still paints in his free time to release stress but he wishes he could see what he's doing since sento only gives him sight when in danger
Johnny has kept every piece of art Kenshi has given him and even puts some of them as Easter eggs in his films
Kenshi hates his tattoos but would never get rid of them since they serve as a way to remind him of where he came from
Kenshi is surprisingly a lightweight and a happy drunk so he tends to stay away from alcohol at all costs
Johnny on the other hand isn't a lightweight but when it finally does hit he's known to become reckless and maybe a bit self destructive
Kenshi is bi-curious
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mywifealhaitham · 1 year
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warmth in the harshest winters
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-- fatui harbinger fluff drabbles !!
all romantic besides Pierro and Pulcinella
⚠: just fluff, slight mention of injury in some parts, firm believer in disabled sandrone, Capitano is very soft and squishy, scaramouche is wanderer, not proofread I'm sleepy
A/N: every fic I see with the harbingers are always more dark and borderline toxic so I wanted to make them all soft and fluffy :3
PIERRO doesn't know what to do with you sometimes. He's been alive for so long yet he can barely show affection to one he feels connected too. So he takes to the streets observing families all across snezhnaya. He sees fathers decorating their daughters in jewels calling them more beautiful than the gods and mothers teaching their sons how to cook for their future beloveds. Even though the old man has you, he still gets a wave of loneliness whenever he sees real families talk and live life together. However when he himself gifts you fine jewelry and teaches you ancient meals long forgotten by time the loneliness is his heart subdues and just for a moment, he has a family once again.
like DOTTORE himself, his segments share a great love for you and often pamper and coddle you when you're in their vicinity. Younger segments of himself often have heart eyes when they look at you, like how a schoolboy admires their teachers. You always pat their heads and tell them that technically when their older they can call you their own. His older segments often like to have more fun with you. Sometimes they'll sandwich you and poke you all already or they'll pull you in the lab to watch experiments they have conducted, waiting for your praise. Sometimes they get jealous of eachother and often that manifests into insecurities. So you reassure them that you'll love them all equally and you'll support them as long as you live.
COLUMBINA dotes on you almost all the time, you're practically her little doll. With your permission she takes you everywhere, walks through the city's most beautiful hidden spots were she has you rest on her lap while she sings songs proclaiming the love you too share, missions were she protects you with her life like a true knight in shining armor with you as her royalty, banquets that the fatui hold were she dresses you two up in matching outfits and walk into the ballroom arm-in-arm as everyone stares in awe, but her all time favorite place to take you is in her arms. As ethereal as some see her, her feelings are entirely human. The softness you provide fuels her fire, it gives her a reason to keep fighting if all her wings are clipped and she's left to die. Often times she'll hold you, almost making time stop and all you can hear is her heartbeat and a tune she hums as you drift off into a restful slumber.
though some may see him as a strong yet evil leader PULCINELLA treats you and a few others he sees as children very nicely. He holds great pride in the title grandpa you've given him, often time joking about how you'll need to be careful not to hurt his hold heart and soul. Whenever you visit him his face lights up patting the nearest seat, an invitation to get lost in stories with him. He'll offer you sweets he picked up that he knows you'll enjoy. As you snack happily he tells you stories of all different genres, ranging from snezhnian myths about creatures lurking in the night to foolish and silly things his fellow harbingers have done. Sometimes if you ask nicely he'll share stories about himself and how he came to be, leaving out more gruesome parts only leaving you with stories of a strong and determined man. If fate would allow it, he'd sit with you in these armchairs telling endless stories with you forever.
even before SCARAMOUCHE abandoned his title as balladeer and erasing himself from this world he vowed to keep you with him, you are his heart along with the electro gnosis. Before becoming the wanderer he is today, he asked Nahida if there's a way to keep you in his memories, if you can know him as both scaramouche and wanderer. Her response was simply no but the solution was simple, make you fall in love all over again. Even when Wanderer regained his memories he was puzzled on courting you. He used all the same methods as the balladeer and yet you would not fall as easily. Until one night you broke down hugging him, recently your heart felt like something was teared out and he replaced it. With a gentle smile he embraced you back, promising to repair the seemly ghosting feeling in your heart. Though in his mind he promised to love you more than the balladeer could ever give.
though most of her comrades were robots, screws and tools SANDRONE always knew how to be human around you. Due to locking herself away in metal and confinement she lost most of the skill you need to be human, accidentally crafting herself to be a robot. However you are her heart that beats reminding herself that she is flesh and bones and not bolts and steel. Being unable to walk on her own she relies on you to be her guiding feet to humanity. She's blunt but not by choice, she'll demand you too wheel her into the garden were she'll then demand you again to explain the life of plants and flowers. Her demands aren't terrifying like how she commands her subordinates but more light and flustered. As you explain how plants breath the air, drink water from their roots and bask in the sunlight she's silent. She's completely lost in your voice. She applies all the information that you told her into you. you are her air that she breaths, you are the water that brings her to life and finally you are her sun that melts away the metal of her skin, leaving her with flesh and bones, leaving her to be a human again.
people all across snezhnaya envy the fair lady's beauty, singing praises about her skin, her hair and her eyes. As much as she prides herself the only person to ever top SIGNORA'S beauty is you. Sometimes she'll place you on her lap as she brushes your hair and powders your face. The only words to come out of her mouth are endless waterfalls of praises. The gods themselves took the finest jewels teyvat has to offer and crafted them into your eyes she sings kissing your cheek while she pins up your hair. Every single silk flower in teyvat is jealous of how soft and clear you're skin is she sighs her hand trailing up from the tip of your fingers to your jawline as her other hand applies powder to your face, making it shine more than before. She scoots you off her lap, making you sit in the chair she occupied before you as she pulls out two shining outfits of your favorite colors. They look like something celestial being would wear, as you pick the one you like the best she beams. Perfect, she sings, tonight both of us will shine like stars, maybe even the gods will notice us hand in hand and imprint our love onto the night sky she winks and kisses your cheek. Tonight at the banquet your love will rival the sun and the moon.
Even though he is the richest of them all and believes money can define the world itself PANTALONE believes that 100% of your happiness cant be bought with mora alone. He believes in equality and that belief spreads onto you. Don't get me wrong he spends ungodly amounts of mora on you already, buying you the best meals any chef on teyvat can make, renting out museums and aquariums just so you can him can waltz in front of statues of the gods or the most gorgeous looking sea life. He buys you jewels and gems that shine so brightly that it blinds everyone around, but to him the thing that truly blinds everyone is money. So he makes sure that the greed he can give you doesn't taint you or corrupt your mind, making you believe that he's only bribing you to stay with him. The way he compels these thoughts is with his undying love to you. Most of his work is filing documents requesting funds so he always allows you to enter his space and exist along with him. Though he still needs to do his work he'll take breaks and play a few round of card games with you, or perhaps read a book together and discuss it but his favorite break time activity is when you two simply lay together on the couch he commissioned for times you wish to nap while he works. The combined comfort of the luxury couch and the warmth and weight of you on top of his person is something money can never buy, it's something he earned alone with no funds required.
TARTAGLIA is a child(e)ish man at heart and that applies for when you're around too. He'll hide behind the wall and as you walk by he'll shout boo as you clutch your chest and fall to the ground. Realizing the situation you both laugh as he outstretched his hand for you to get off the ground. In the early mornings he'll tickle you awake, he enjoys the feeling of you swatting him away and how your body vibrates when you burst out into giggles against him. He also loves when you play with his siblings, fully immersed in the action game his siblings have dragged you both into. As much as he says he's focused his real attention is on you and how your eyes sparkle when you get playfully shot at with a stick gun. Even though he is as playful as a fox there are times when he matures and is more romantic with you. He'll prepare candle-lit dinners with the best home made snezhnaya specialties. He'll warm you too a bath with rose petals and the best oils imported from all across the globe so you too can relax into eachother. Whenever you're sad he will be there, when your happy he will laugh with you, when your angry he will calm you down. As long as the sun still shines he will remain by your side, he is forever your loyal loving knight Ajax.
whenever they hear CAPITANO'S name one often thinks of a brutal man with a army that shadows a nation but what you hear is much more different. the Capitano you know is a gentle giant who during midnight walks will pick the most beautiful rose in the bush, carefully remove all it's thorns and gently placing it behind your ear. The Capitano you also know clasps one of your hands in excitement when the stray cat he was petting starts purring and nuzzling into the cool armor of his hand. Capitano is totally at your mercy, he's completely wrapped around your finger. He talks about you nonstop to the fatui soldiers around him, at first they hold great respect for you because you are Capitanos partner but overtime they respect you for yourself. You bring in blankets and pillows on cold nights to them, wrapped them and yourself up around a small campfire as you tell them stories of happy times. If you have the skill you even train with them, praising them on their blade work. This never goes unnoticed by Capitano who when he finally has you too himself engulfs you in a huge hug, telling you how proud he is of you and all the work you do to help the fatui. He and some of the fatui members you have helped call you a angel, a rare kind soul in the harshest of winters.
though her loyalty to the Tsaritsa is questionable ARLECCHINO love for you is not. People say she is crazy, not one part of her is sane but when she's with you all humanity she's lost throughout her life comes back into her. She's slightly possessive over you, asking to take you along for missions. During said missions she always makes sure you don't get a single scratch on your perfect body. She also likes to impress you during these times, sometimes she'll fight five strong enemies at once just enough so you'll be at the edge of your seat. When she swiftly and elegantly kills them all she'll kneel before you and kiss your hand, looking at you with loyalty and determination in her eyes. When you come on missions with her she only brings her most trusted fatui soliders with her, often times these soldiers are the ones she has personally raised at the house of the hearth. These fatui soldiers know better than to hurt you or get too comfortable with you so they simply let you be, protectively watching you from beyond. If by any chance some force breaks through the defense of well trained soldiers or Arlecchino herself and mange to her you she is deeply concerned. She'll drag you to her private tent and gently patch your wounds. after she'll cup your face in her hands and kiss away any tears that may have fallen during the process, promising you that she will shield you from any bad in this world even if that meant death to herself.
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starker-raving-mads · 1 month
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After School Alpha
Summary: Omega Peter had a bad day at school and Alpha Tony is going to make it better.
Rating: Mature
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"I can't - I'm just - ugh," Peter flops onto the couch, reeking of distress and upset.
The moment the little omega had come into the lab Tony knew something was up. His protégé was normally bubbly, excitable, almost uncontrollably hyper, but today the teen had been quiet and, if Tony dared name an emotion over it, sad. The alpha figured he'd give the boy some space to work out whatever it was that was going on in his head but after a sharp clatter of tools a minute ago he'd carelessly asked, 'you okay, kid?'
Which resulted in Peter tripping over his words before planting himself face-first onto the couch in the corner of the lab.
The alpha tried - and failed, drastically - not to notice the tight curve of the younger man's spine where it rose to his ass when he walked over to that corner of the room. He simply couldn't help it; Peter was everything in an omega that Tony's craved: beautiful, incredibly smart, submissive - but only to an extent - and with the most compact little body it made his mouth water.
He tried not to think about this as he laid one hand over the younger man's waist in comfort, crouching down to the side of the couch. Petting down his spine, he released soothing alpha pheromones, letting his scent pervade the little space and draw the omega out of the shell he'd mentally crawled into.
"C'mon, kid," he rumbled. "I know you're not that upset over anything happening with your project over there. What's up?"
Peter shuffled until his face was turned toward Tony, the rest of him still firmly planted between the billionaire's hand and the couch. His eyes were round and as doe like as ever, but the tilt in his brow screamed small and soft and sad. Tony's heart broke at it and he took his free hand and ran his fingers over the creases and frown lines until Peter's face lay smoothed out and more tranquil than it had been all afternoon.
"It's stupid," the teenager muttered, pressing his face into Tony's hand, rubbing at it with his cheek like a cat begging for pets. The older man barely withheld a chuckle at the action and instead ran his fingers through Peter's soft, fluffy curls.
"It can be stupid and still suck," Tony replied, tugging at a loose strand of hair. It made Peter arch his neck in a way that showed off his mating gland and oh there were those feelings he was trying more and more to tamp down. It was one thing to want to fuck a pliant little omega like Peter, but a whole other thing to want to claim him, mate him, breed him full of Stark pups.
Tony was a dirty old alpha and he really didn't need the reminder of what he couldn't - shouldn't - have.
"It's just - " Peter started before sighing and closing his eyes. A moment later they opened back up again and stared right through Tony's soul. "You probably don't wanna hear this especially from me but," the kid swallowed before his face firmed up in resolution. "I love you, Mr. Stark, and it just really, really sucks because you don't look at me like that and you don't have to - like I get it," he rolled his eyes at himself as though he wasn't actively sending every atom of Tony's existence into a supercollider, "I'm just some dumb kid you have to like babysit to make sure I don't die doing Spider-Man things. And - and," his voice hitched and wavered with building tears, "you're so kind to me like all the time like even right now and you take care of me and I can't help what I feel and - "
"Hey," Tony said softly, moving both hands to cradle Peter's face. "Shh, don't cry." He wiped away the tears that had built on the younger mans face with his thumbs, smoothing away the tracks until they were gone and he had a handful of soft, pretty omega.
"'M sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter hiccupped.
"There's nothing to be sorry about, kid," Tony shook his head, hands resuming their path of running through Peter's hair, soothing them both.
"I just don't wanna make you feel bad because of how I feel," Peter frowned. "I just didn't think I could hold it in any more after - after Flash said all that stupid stuff today about being a b-burden." Tony frowned and made a mental note to deal with whoever the hell this Flash kid was. "And even just telling you how I feel is gonna make it all awkward and - "
"Pete," Tony interrupted, every part of him finally aligning to do the one thing he's wanted to do for months. "You aren't a burden, kid, and you're not making anything awkward. You've got nothing to be sorry about."
"But - !" Peter started and Tony rolled his eyes playfully before ducking forward.
Their lips met in a kiss that was, without doubt, the best kiss Tony had ever given or received in his many years of life. Peter's lips were soft and plush, warm, and the scent of sour feelings and surprise quickly was overrun with arousal and pure unadulterated happiness. Almost immediately his delicate little throat let loose an omegan purr of contentment and Tony growled back, proud and possessive over the little thing in his arms.
He pushed himself until he was laying over the teenager, crowding him into the cushions of the couch, weighed down by Tony's larger, alpha form. Their kiss was turning from almost-innocent to downright sinful with their mouths opening, tongues pressing against each other in a dance as old as time.
Peter let out a little whine when Tony maneuvered them to where the younger mans legs were spread around Tony's hips and the alpha thrust down. He pulled back and let out a loud growl as he ground his hips into Peter's, the omega mewling out little sounds of pleasure. Pete tried to match the rhythm of Tony's grinding but was too inexperienced and blinded by pleasure to sync up so Tony ran a hand down to his hip and guided him.
"That's it, little omega," he panted, face pressed against Peter's mating gland as he breathed in the scent of happy, slick, yours. "Take what you need, sweetheart."
"Mr. - ah," Peter mewled, strong hands grasping at Tony's shoulders, hanging on for dear life. "Alpha, alpha, alpha," he panted, back arching as he finally found the right pace to rub his jean-clad cocklette and pussy over the bulge in Tony's slacks.
They both moaned when Tony's cock hooked into a slick indent in Peter's jeans and caused them to grind in place, the only thing stopping their coupling the barrier of their clothes.
"Pete," Tony panted, pressing the teens legs up and around to hook over his hips. He ground down again and again, the slick dripping from Peter's hole drenching his pants. He could feel it on his cock and the scent and knowledge of just how wet the kid was for him was driving him insane. "Fuck, so wet, baby. Is that all for me, huh, kid?"
"Yes - yes all for you, alpha," Peter panted, arching to allow Tony's cock to thrust deeper into the cradle of his thighs. He whined as his jeans stopped the older man from fucking too hard against him. "Need," he cried, tears of frustration gathering at the corners of his eyes. He was the prettiest thing Tony had ever seen.
"Can't - can't breed you yet, 'mega," Tony said, voice coming in huffs as he continued to thrust up into the sweet slick heat of Peter's most sensitive spot. Peter whined, long and low, his whole body begging to be breached and fucked and knotted. It pulled at Tony's heart and his knot started to swell like he was some teenaged pup ready to blow his load in his pants.
Might as well be, he thought, for all that Peter was driving him insane.
"Alpha, please," Peter cried. "Need - need - "
"Need alpha's cock?" Tony teased, rocking them together as tightly as he could. "Need to be bred, Petey?"
Peter let out a choked off moan as his head fell back, overwhelmed by the idea. "Yes, yes, yes," he agreed, rutting against Tony frantically. He was so close. "Need alpha's cock in me," he admitted, rushed, frantic. "Need his knot," he panted. Delirious with arousal and instinct, he said, "Wanna be bred full of his come, wanna give him - give him so many pups." He cut off with a moan when Tony thrust particularly viciously against his pussy.
For Tony's part, he was just as frantic with lust as Peter was. Hearing the omega, his omega beg for his knot, beg to be bred and become the mother of his pups was driving him insane. But he couldn't, not yet, wouldn't breed him until they were mated and they would be mated, he'd figure out a way how.
But until then -
He pulled back and Peter all but cried at the loss. "Shh, little omega," Tony said, hands moving to remove every piece of clothing covering his little mate. "It's okay, alpha's gonna take care of you." He threw Peter's shirt off first before his hands dexterously started unbuttoning and tugging down jeans and underwear.
"Please," Peter begged, legs colt-like and fumbling as he tried to help. Finally, he was completely naked before Tony's gaze and instead of covering himself like he always thought he might - the embarrassment of being naked a truly terrible thing - all he could think was to stretch out, spread out, show off for his alpha, his mate. Let him see what he owned and was about to mark up and make belong to him. He ran his hands over his flared hips and up to his flat chest, touching everywhere he wanted Tony to touch. "Please," he asked again, soft and full of want.
The billionaire leaned down again and kissed the teen full on the mouth, hands immediately roaming to everywhere he could touch. He tweaked the boy's nipples until he gasped, he ran calloused fingers over the sensitive flesh of his ribs and the soft skin of the inside of his thighs before finding his goal.
"Oh!" Peter exclaimed before dropping back into a deep moan.
Tony's fingers found the boy's cocklette and pussy and smoothed over the soft flesh with his hands before dipping a fingertip into his sopping went entrance. "Fuck," he grunted, Peter's hole was warm and more inviting than it had any right to be. "So fucking wet for me, baby," he said, dipping a second finger in when he realized how loose with arousal the boy was.
"All for you," Peter agreed, spreading his legs even wider, begging to be fucked by Tony's hand.
And fuck Tony did. He thrust both fingers fully into the boy who in turn let little ah, ah, ah noises as the alpha's fingers thrust in and out of him. He was already so incredibly close to coming it was insane.
"Please, alpha," he begged, grinding his hips down every time Tony thrust his thick fingers back into him. "Please, please, please."
"Gonna make you come, 'mega, don't you worry," Tony promised. His fingers were so drenched with slick it was amazing his hand hadn't just slid right out. And, god, thinking about all that hot liquid running over his knot was driving him insane. "C'mon now, pup," he said, crooking his fingers until Peter screamed. "Come for alpha, come on my hand, baby."
"Al - alphaaa," Peter cried, body tensing up and eyes rolling to the back of his head. He grabbed the arm of the couch behind his head and held on tightly as his orgasms crashed over him. He vaguely heard the snap of the wooden frame but truly could not care about it as waves upon waves of pleasure rushed over him.
Slowly, he came back down from his orgasm, feeling himself slumped against the couch cushions, crumbled couch arm held loose in his hand. He let go of the fabric and keened when he felt Tony swipe his whole hand up against Peter's pussy.
"Shh, Petey, just need - ah," the older man said. Peter cracked his eyes open to see Tony's cock finally free from his trousers and the older man's hand wrapped tight around it. His cock was glorious, thick and long and angry red at the tip, dripping precome as the billionaire wrapped his hand around it. He jacked himself off in quick, efficient strokes, the glide smooth with Peter's slick.
The teen shuddered, body trying and failing to rev back up because of the erotic image. Tony's eyes were trained between Peter's legs and, in a moment of confidence Peter didn't know he hand, the teen pulled the back of his thighs with both hands, tilting his hips and putting himself on full display for his alpha. "Fuck," Tony said, hips stuttering in their rhythm. He squeezed almost painfully tight against the knot at the base of his cock at then - hot streaks of come shot out, marking Peter from chest to pussy with wave after wave of alpha come. He let out an omegan purr again, happy and aroused and so fucking hot from the display of pure desire from his alpha.
After a few moments, both men had calmed down enough to clean up using one of the many rags from around the shop before curling up together on the couch. Peter, still naked, was pressed tightly against Tony's larger, warm form. For his part, Tony grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and covered the both of them, wrapping his arms around his little mate.
"Gonna mate you, kid," he promised lowly, leaving a kiss to soft, brown curls.
"Oh, alpha," Peter sighed in contentment. He tucked his head against Tony's mating gland and laved it with his tongue, breathing in the happiness in the air.
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