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depravitycentral · 11 months ago

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Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

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

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

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

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

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

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

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

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

Hardworking

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

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

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

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

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

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

Motherly

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pushover

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They have to be.

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

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

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

Possessive

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dependent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PUNISHMENTS:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who did this?

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

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

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

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

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

Did you do this to yourself?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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pinksugarscrub · 2 months ago

Text

Sun and Moon

Sea Witch! Hobie x mermaid! reader

Inspired by 🪦 anon after a discussion on @the-kr8tor 's blog. Thank you!

Part(s): Prologue/Chapter one, ???

Word count: 2,232

Bottles and vials clink together. It’s a sound you’ve come to love as you scribble in your notebook. Pearls coated in luminescent algae overhead so you can see your work. Held together by strings of silk or seaweed.

You sneak a glance at him. Watching as he mixes together a new concoction before quickly looking down and pretending to write when in all reality there’s an out of place squiggle on the page. You wait a few minutes before bringing your attention back to the man you love. A fishing net around his waist (a new addition) that holds together his black robe. Neck littered with random trinkets, shells, and pearls.

Sighing softly you rest your chin in your palm. The sketch of him long forgotten as you admire the real thing. This time you don’t shy away when he looks over his shoulder.

Hobie laughs softly, “caught you…” His eyes sparkling as he sets down his tools. Swimming over to your side he towers over you (quite easily I might add) as he reaches down. Gently, he rubs his thumb over your jaw. “What are you thinking about guppy? Me?”

Bubbles leave your lips as you laugh. Playfully pushing his hand away but it’s soon replaced by his own lips as he leans down. Peppering kisses to every inch of skin he can reach.

“Yes and-” You laugh louder as he changes to blowing raspberries against your neck. “-no! And if you don’t stop I won’t tell you anything!”

Hobie, of course, ignores this and wraps his tentacles around your waist. Bringing you closer until you’re effectively trapped. The only portion of you left uncovered are your fins. Flailing weakly against the water.

“I could just force it out of you my love,” he grins. The pearls in his hair shining under the dim light that managed to squeeze through a crack in the cave. You’ll never get tired of the way his eyes glow, even under the sunlight. Like gold rings of fire that you’ve seen on the mainland.

“You could,” you muse,“but are you going to?”

He stares.

You stare right back.

Then he clicks his tongue and loosens his grip but only enough to allow you to shift around to lay against him. The telltale sign being his hand placed over your naval.

You follow his motions without protest and eventually you both settle into the comfort of your bed full of kelp and sea sponge. His chin resting atop your head as he wraps his arms around your waist. Immediately tracing the outline of gold in your scales ever so gently.

“Alright, on with it. What did I do this time?”

Hobie relishes in your laugh. If he could, he would bottle up the sound and keep it tucked away for the days you’re away. He wishes he could finally convince you to stay but he wouldn’t think of ever getting in the way of your dream. For now, the daily visits would suffice.

“I was just thinking…about the day we met.”

“The day we met?” He repeats. Chuckling as he moves to bury his nose into the crook of your neck. “What about it lovie? Are you missing the days where my hair was longer?”

Your eyes glaze over the scar on your tail. The scales surrounding it are a bit discolored but iridescent nonetheless.

You reach for his hands wanting to seek the same feeling you felt all those months ago. Tending to you. Even the rings on his fingers are the same except for one on his left hand. The peridot matching the one around your neck. He glady intertwines your fingers.

“You did look quite rugged,” you tease.

His chest rumbles beneath your back. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You inhale sharply.“Anyway-”

“No, no, we’re coming back to that.”

You shush him while petting one of his tentacles and he practically melts into jelly. Accepting defeat he moves another tentacle to caress your fin. You chuckle at the gesture. He might as well be a sea urchin.

“I was just wondering, what would have happened if you hadn’t found me.”

He pauses, taking his hand and lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Why are you thinking about that?” You can practically feel him frowning. “Are you-”

“No,” you answer quickly. Smiling softly to reassure him. “I’m not. I feel safe with you.”

Hobie scans your face for any sign of a lie. Knowing how stubborn you can be when admitting to having nightmares again.

“I mean it love,” you laugh. Shaking your head as you poked his nose. “Don’t look so distressed. I’m referring to how much you’ve changed my life.”

He quirks a brow and you can’t help but laugh harder. Seems you have some convincing to do.

It’s not easy recalling some memories from the past but you can’t have light, without the darkness. Much like Hobie can’t be without his sun and you, can’t be without your moon.

Chapter one - Lost

Scavengers were the absolute bane of your existence. For weeks, weeks, you’ve been sourcing red seaweed. Rare red seaweed. Because greed and pollution seem to infect every corner of the sea now. It’s specifically ordered to be used as parchment for royal records and as the kingdom’s archivist it’s your duty to provide. You would lose your job in an instant if someone, anyone, found you unfit to continue guarding documents that are as old as the man who calls himself your superior.

You can’t lose the one chance you have to advance into a position you actually enjoy. So if it takes you another decade of stocking scrolls and collecting algae, so be it! But you can’t do that if you don’t figure out some way to get the remaining seaweed.

There isn’t much you can do except probe the regular patrons of the library for any leads. They seem to pity you with how their eyes follow you as you sift through maps that you already know like the back of your hand. You’re hoping a new path will magically appear on the page when you blink.

It’s hours before you finally stop and rest. You don’t think you’ve swam this much in months.

“A witch?” A voice whispers.

You sit up straighter on the bed of sponge you’re sitting on. Leaning over to see past the spiral staircase of stone. There’s a woman— scratch that—two women along with a small girl. The young mermaid sucking on her thumb as her eyes traced over the coral chandelier.

Witches weren’t…unheard of but it’s not like you believed in such stories. They were just tactics used to scare children into eating their clams and keeping them away from deeper water.

The stories claim witches have golden irises that can turn you into seafoam with just one glance. A voice so enchanting that they use it to lure sailors just as much as they would merfolk. The only positive thing you’ve heard over the years is their ability to heal but even that came at a price.

You sit back into your original position. Making bubble rings and watching them make their way to the surface.

The women are talking in hushed tones that you deem unnecessary with how vacant the library is. You close your eyes as you continue to listen in. Gossip is normally beneath you but you need a laugh after how long a day you had. Honestly, you’re only taking bits and pieces of information until you hear one word, apothecary. And it’s like it all clicks into place.

“An apothecary!” You laugh before promptly slapping your hand over your mouth.

How could you be so stupid? An apothecary! There were several of them strewn about. Most abandoned as the men and women who practiced lived inside the kingdom now. In the past however, they always grew their own stock to avoid having to pay merchants or hire a forager. If you can find just one, that should be enough to satisfy the king’s order. What’s even better is it’s entirely possible you’ll be able to regrow what was stolen. It’s the best solution you could have asked for.

By some miracle your ‘aha’ moment isn’t heard. Neither is the flick of your fins as you sneak past the trio. You really don’t want to try to justify your eavesdropping and you’re sure they don’t want to discuss the existence of something only known to be in folklore with a very skeptical scholar.

The water rushing by your ears blocks out the rest of their conversation. Only the statues bear witness about the abandoned apothecary the witch inhabits.

That night you gather a sickle, a ration pack, and a bag with plenty of room to stuff bundles of seaweed into. A map tucked into the outside pocket.

There were six apothecaries in total, all surrounding the castle at varying distances. There’s a chance the ones closest have already been raided so you decide to venture further out towards the ones in the south. You’re both excited and terrified to be venturing out on your own but maybe this will prove you are capable.

When the sun rises, you’re already out the door. Compass in hand as you swim around the castle gates.

You are in complete awe at everything you see. Tall stalks of coral the size of ships and fish so bright you have to stop and admire them. You try not to get too distracted but with the number of things you see you lose your way. Heading East, toward the dark sea.

After what feels like hours you arrive at the mouth of a cavern. So large it almost seems to come to life as the shadow cast from the sun moves low. Fish swimming in and out like it was sucking and spitting them out.

Flipping open the map you stare at pathways. Tilting your head to try to make sense of the markings. There is an obvious seal at the edge of the cave but the image is practically scratched off so you can’t identify it. Your compass, as it turns out, is left unusable as it spins in every direction. Obviously, this isn’t good news but did you really risk all of this just to return home empty handed?

You swallow thickly as you stare down into the cave. It can’t be…too far. Can it?

Circling the entrance you gnaw on your thumb. Turning away to face the already rising moon. You weren’t expecting to stay out all day but you have enough supplies to tide you over for the night. You’re not completely inexperienced.

A deep rumble echoes through the water and you pause. Eyes darting to the cave again and darkness stares right back but it dawns on you as you feel the current shift that it wasn’t coming from inside.

This was wrong. You shouldn’t be here.

The fish dart away to any available crevice along with the vibrant anemone that sink back into themselves. Another hum reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look behind you.

Shaking you count to ten then twenty before a shadow is cast overhead. The sea is silent. Nothing moves, nothing breathes except…

A leviathan.

Breathe.

You choke back a sob. It reeks of death. Jaws stained with blood, fresh blood as it dissipates into the sea.

Stories filter through your mind at a mile a minute. You were told about great adventurers. Of their bravery and cunning against giants like the leviathan but you feel neither brave or prepared.

For the first time you hear your heartbeat. You weren’t even aware that, that was possible. Maybe it was a form of mercy, feeling your lifeforce before it was stripped from you.

It’s waiting. You can see it. Its eyes have never left yours. Its pupils so dark it reminds you of the sky. Above the surface of what you call home.

You make the mistake of looking away and everything happens in an instant.

You scream and it bellows as it strikes. Hot rushes of pain erupt with every flick of its head as it tries to swallow you whole. Jagged rocks digging into your skin as your hands bleed from smashing against its teeth. Your fear only doubles as it takes you deeper into the cave you were so hesitant to even look at. You can’t see, just feel and hear the monster that’s in front of you.

You wish you hadn’t tried to fight back. You wish you were home. You wish it had killed you quicker.

You’re so disoriented that the flashes of light that spark into your vision you mistake for the sun. The heat of each bang doing nothing to aid the tears in your body.

The leviathan roars and with each smash of glass it shrinks back until eventually it flees. Thick tail hitting the walls of stone and breaking just the surface.

You hear sounds above the calamity, words that you can’t make out because you think it’s finally over. You can rest now.

Gentle hands run over your body as you lose consciousness. Holding onto you like you were as precious as a pearl. Rings of gold are the last thing you see.

#hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader #mermaid au #mermaid!au #mermaid!reader #octopus! hobie #x reader #reader insert

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msweebyness · 8 months ago

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Miraculous Barbie: (Non-Platonic) Diamond Castle, with JuleRose

And here we are, the final installment of my Barbie movie adaptation series, with Juleka and Rose as our leads! @imsparky2002 @artzychic27

“A miracle starts whenever you dream!”

CAST:

Rose Lavillant as Liana

Juleka Couffaine as Alexa

Felix Fathom & Adrien Agreste as Jeremy & Ian

Mindy Blumberg as Melody

Daizzi as Sparkles

Roarr as Lily

Nadja Chamack as Lydia

Alec Cataldi as Slyder

Clara Nightingale & Vivica as Dori & Phaedra

And so our story begins…

Far away, in a time long past, in a lovely little cottage in the forest, there lived two girls. Juleka and Rose were their names, and they were deeply in love. They had a beautiful garden that supplied their income by selling the flowers in the village, and they absolutely loved to sing together, their voices blending perfectly in harmony.

One day, as they were tending to their garden, Rose spots something in the stream, and calls Juleka over to look. On the rocky riverbed rest two shining stones of a pinkish-white hue, each in the shape of a perfect heart. They fish them out of the water and decide to make matching necklaces out of them.

But at that moment, the wind starts to pick up and thunder cracks. Almost supernaturally fast, a storm moves in and the two girls run for their house. The storm is strong and fierce, lasting throughout the night, but the girlfriends keep each other’s spirits up by singing together. Rose also presents Juleka with the heart stones, which she turned into matching necklaces.

The next morning when the storm had passed, they exit their house and find their garden completely destroyed. Wood splintered and petals strewn everywhere. Dejected, they try to salvage as much as they can, knowing they’ll have to be tight with money this year, even if they sell all the flowers that survived.

As she often does, Juleka expresses her desire that they could be better off in their living situation, but Rose cheers her up with a few jokes and they head into town. On the way, they come across an old woman who looks absolutely starving, and Rose gives her the food she intended to have for lunch. In return, the woman gifts her an old hand mirror, which while tarnished, is quite ornate and beautiful.

When they’ve returned home, Juleka counts the money they managed to make while Rose cleans the hand mirror, which is revealed to be solid gold with beautiful jewel flowers, making her feel guilty about accepting it from the woman, who likely didn’t know she had something so valuable.

After having their breakfast, they go outside and set to work repairing their garden, singing the songs they’ve written together as always. But on this day, something unusual happens, as they reach the chorus the second time…a third voice joins them! The two girls pause for a moment, only to begin singing again, and again, the new voice joins in. And it seems to be coming from Rose’s basket, in which she had placed the mirror….

Deciding to investigate, they begin singing again, and follow the voice, opening the basket’s lid…to see a girl, singing with them in the mirror. They ask the two girls to sing the song again, and they compliment her on her voice. But when Juleka and Rose ask for their name, the girl suddenly panics and insists that she is nobody and to forget they ever saw her before disappearing. Not wanting her to leave, Juleka and Rose begin singing again, and she can’t resist joining in. Rose asks her not to leave, and they say they won’t, because this is too much fun!

But many miles away, in a foreboding cave full of dark magic, a serpent named Alec sees the horn on his head begin to glow, a sign that someone who’s been hiding from his mistress for a long time has made an appearance! Just at that moment, said mistress, Nadja enters with a bombastic musical number about her plans for conquest, berating Alec when he interrupts her with his applause. Alec tells her that he sensed Mindy, the muse apprentice singing somewhere and Nadja immediately sends him to find her, because they have something Nadja needs…

Back at the cottage, the three girls are still having fun singing together. Mindy introduces herself after they do the same. Juleka asks if she has a song she’d like to sing, and Mindy teaches the two their favorite song (see linked song at the bottom). But as they’re singing, Mindy spots Alec in the sky, panicking and yelling that they need to hide. Juleka and Rose race with the mirror into the house, with Juleka racing for the cellar while Rose grabs a decoy mirror to fool the serpent.

Alec breaks into the cottage and begins making a mess of things, including knocking a wooden chair over into the fireplace…. The two girls then exit the cellar and leave the decoy mirror on a table for Alec to find, and he takes the bait, flying off to return to his mistress. Unfortunately, the chair has caught fire and when Juleka and Rose return, their home is nothing but charred framework and ash.

Mindy blames herself for what happened and tells the girls to throw them far away and forget about them. Rose asks what the serpent wants with Mindy, and the girl reluctantly explains. They tell the two that they were an apprentice to the three muses who lived in the Diamond Castle, the birthplace of all music, named such because a diamond appears on the walls each time a new song is sung. But after a time, one of the muses, Nadja, got sick of sharing the spotlight and wanted to be the one and only muse! Clara and Vivica, the other two muses, had refused, believing music to be for everyone!

Nadja found a dark cave filled with evil magic and made it her lair. She transformed her flute with dark magic, giving it the power of darkness and hypnosis. When Nadja returned to take what she wanted by force, Clara and Vivica hid the Diamond Castle along with their magical instruments, giving the key to Mindy in case anything happened to them. They tried to reason with Nadja, but she used her flute to turn them to stone. Fearing for her life, Mindy fled, with Alec chasing them, and used her magic whistle to hide in a nearby hand mirror. But they dropped their whistle, her only means of escape, and Alec broke it, trapping her in the mirror. Today was the first time they’ve even said a word in years, and look what happened…

The two girls comfort Mindy, and assure her they don’t blame her for any of this. Rose asks if Mindy knows where the Diamond Castle is and if Nadja can be stopped. Mindy tells her and Juleka that if they play the muse’s magical instruments, it should be stronger than Nadja’s dark magic. Rose manages to convince a nervous Juleka that they must help Mindy or Nadja will do to other people what she’s done to them. They promise to help Mindy and the three start on their way.

Back at Nadja’s cave, Alec gives Nadja the mirror, and she demands Mindy reveal herself. She soon realizes Alec got the wrong mirror, and angrily berates him. Alec tells her about Mindy’s new companions, and Nadja orders him to take her to them at once.

After miles of traveling, the three girls end up in a valley of beautiful flowers, and decide to stop for a rest. Juleka hears something following them, and they decide to investigate, fearing it could be a snake. But when they go to look, they find an adorable tiger cub and Piglet, who seem to take a liking to them. The girls decide to keep them and give them the names Roaar and Daizzi.

After more hours of walking, they end up in a village, where an innkeeper is irate as he waits for the musicians he hired, who are very late. Juleka and Rose offer to take their place in exchange for some food, and he takes them up on it, as the crowd is getting restless. The girlfriends perform their song together, and are an instant hit. As they’re singing, the originally hired musicians, twin brothers Adrien and Felix, arrive and decide to stay and listen. However, Mindy can’t resist singing along, giving Nadja and Alec a tip what direction to go.

As the two girls are eating the meals they earned, Adrien and Felix approach and jokingly heckle them for taking their gig. The two girls match their snark dead on, before taking their leave. Adrien notices Rose accidentally left her handkerchief behind, and tells Felix they should at least try to return it, and they go to try and find the girls.

However, just a moment too late to catch the girls, Nadja and Alec swoop into the village, entering the inn where Alec sensed Mindy’s singing. She demands to know where the two girls went, and when everyone refuses to answer, she hypnotizes them with her flute and gets what she wants to know by force.

Alec quickly catches up to the girls, and Nadja demands they hand over Mindy, but they refuse. Nadja tries to hypnotize them with her flute, but their heart stone necklaces (which are actually pieces of the Diamond Castle, go figure!) protect them, creating a magical barrier. They refuse when Nadja again demands the mirror, leaving her dumbstruck. Frustrated, she orders Alec to attack them. The serpent gives chase, but Adrien and Felix arrive and give the girls an escape on horseback just in the nick of time. They flee through a wall of vines into a cave and Felix incites a rock slide that leaves Alec with a likely concussion.

The two girls thank the twins for the save, and proper introductions are exchanged. It’s then that Mindy pipes up from the mirror, asking how Juleka and Rose were immune to Nadja’s magic, leaving the two boys wondering what exactly they’ve gotten themselves into. Nevertheless, they decide to accompany the girls and lend a hand.

They take the girls to a river they need to travel in order to reach the castle, with the twin’s suggesting they avoid the bridge listed on a sign, seeming quite dodgy for some reason…The girls decide to look for the bridge anyway, telling the twins they’ll catch up. But at that moment, Roarr and Daizzi run off, leaving Juleka and Rose to chase after him. When they catch up, they find their pets have been apprehended by a nasty old troll. Rose demands he let the baby animals go, but he only mocks her in return. The twins followed them, and the troll recognizes them. Turns out they tried to cross his bridge but failed to solve his riddle, barely escaping with their lives, which the troll intended to rectify, trapping the two boys in a pit.

Rose manages to strike a deal with the troll, if they answer his riddle correctly, he lets Adrien and Felix go, but if they fail, he has dinner for two nights! The troll agrees, and poses his riddle: What instrument can you hear, but can't see and can't touch? The girls are stumped for a moment, before Rose has an idea. The answer to the riddle is your voice! You can’t see it or touch it, but when you sing, everyone can hear it! Furious that they answered correctly, the troll implodes in a puff of smoke as the bridge appears and the twins climb out of the pit. The girls step onto the bridge, but it recedes before the boys can follow. Rose tells the twins to meet them at the Seven Stones, where they’ll find the Diamond Castle.

After hours and hours of walking, Juleka is exhausted, but Rose spots smoke rising from a chimney. They make their way to a beautiful manor, and are greeted by two servants who claim that the manor and everything in it belongs to them. The two are blown away, but know they can’t stay…until Juleka finds a note addressed to her. In the note, Nadja says to Juleka that she did a little research and found her family. It shows a magical image of Juleka’s brother Luka and her mother Anarka as stone statues in Nadja’s lair. And unless Juleka convinces Rose to stay in the manor and hands over Mindy’s mirror, they’ll stay like this forever.

Desperate to save her family, Juleka tries to convince Rose to remain in the manor, struggling to tell her why. Angry that her girlfriend would abandon Mindy when they promised to help her, Rose leaves the manor with the mirror and Daizzi, leaving a distraught Juleka alone. Just moments after Juleka removes her necklace in despair, who should appear at the door but Nadja and Alec. They take Juleka back to the lair, and Nadja places her under her hypnotic spell (which now works as she’s not wearing the heart stone necklace), and sends Alec after Rose when Juleka reveals her location against her will.

The serpent abducts the blonde and takes her to the lair, where she’s tied up. She calls the spelled Juleka out to upset Rose, before taking the mirror. When Mindy refuses to come out, Nadja orders to Juleka to walk towards the edge of a cliff, saying she’ll only stop her if Mindy asks. Rose cries desperately for her girlfriend to stop, but Juleka only responds to Nadja while under the spell. Just before Juleka can walk over the edge, Mindy appears and cries out for Nadja to stop her. Mindy demands the release of her friends, which Nadja states will only happen if the apprentice takes her to the Diamond Castle. Seeing no other choice, Mindy agrees.

Alec cuts Rose loose, and she immediately rushes to Juleka…only for the serpent to knock them both over the edge of the cliff, supposedly into the boiling lava below, before leaving to follow his mistress. Thankfully, Rose catches them on a log, saving both of their lives. But Juleka is still under Nadja’s spell.

Meanwhile, at the Seven Stones, Mindy is trying to stall Nadja as much as she can, making up a lie that the key to the castle is to place diamonds in one of the stones in a certain order. Thankfully, Nadja believes her, giving them a little more time.

Adrien and Felix arrive at the Seven Stones with no sign of the girls, but are alerted that something is wrong when Daizzi runs up to them in a panic, rushing them along somewhere. The piglet takes them in the direction of the cave, as Rose tearfully holds the still-mesmerized Juleka. But thankfully, Roaar brought along Juleka’s necklace! And when Rose places it on her, the spell is broken. The two exchange apologies and share a kiss out of relief, before Rose explains that Nadja took Mindy and is on her way to the castle. It’s then that the twins arrive and they make a plan to stop Nadja.

Back at the Seven Stones, Nadja finishes placing the diamonds, but the castle doesn’t appear. Angrily, she accuses Mindy of lying to her, just as the twins and the girls arrive and put their plan into action. Adrien and Felix begin to play their guitars to draw Alec away, while Juleka and Rose sneak up on Nadja. While the boys keep the serpent occupied, Nadja’s magic is ineffectual as both girls have their necklaces again…but they don’t let her know that. Acting as if they are under her spell, they come at Nadja’s command, but instead of diving into the now swirling waters of a nearby pond as she ordered, Rose steals Nadja’s flute.

Quickly grabbing the mirror, Nadja threatens to smash it and get rid of Mindy for good if they don’t hand over her flute. But before they can comply, Mindy smashes the mirror herself, keeping Nadja from regaining her power and getting the key to the Diamond Castle! Irritated, Nadja tosses the mirror away, and goes to grab her flute, only for Rose to throw it to Juleka, who then tosses it into the water. Nadja dives after it, but the flute is clogged with water and she is overwhelmed by the magic used to create the whirlpool, seeming to be pulled under for good. The twins, having dealt with Alec, rejoin them as they all mourn the loss of Mindy.

Rose believes that if they can find the castle and play the magical instruments, it may bring Mindy back! It’s then that Juleka remembers the words to Mindy’s song, and thinks that it may be the key to the Diamond Castle! So the two begin to sing the tune, and sure enough, the stunning castle rises from the waters of the lake!

As they enter the castle, not only do Juleka and Rose’s clothes get transformed into stunning dresses, but Mindy is released from the mirror and the three girls share a hug. Mindy then leads everyone into the castle, where they find the magical instruments! But just at that moment, Nadja reappears riding Alec, having not drowned after all, and prepares to destroy them. But Rose and Juleka grab them just in time, and playing the magical instruments and singing along with Mindy, Nadja’s own evil spell is reflected back at her, turning both her and Alec to stone!

With Nadja imprisoned forever, Clara and Vivica, along with Juleka’s mother and brother, are released from their stone prisons, and the muses return to the Diamond Castle, giving the two musicians a ride to see their sister/daughter.

Happily reunited, Vivica and Clara officially appoint Mindy as the third muse, and name Juleka and Rose princesses of music. (Adrien and Felix get some pretty sweet guitars!) It’s then that the girls decide to return home, with Mindy promising to visit, and the muses gifting them magical seeds that repair their home and grow flowers made of gold and jewels, which make them more than enough money. (Adrien also meets Luka, who he finds more than a little cute!) The two girls return to their peaceful life, loving every moment and singing all the way!

And they all lived happily ever after!

The sweetest sound will always be, two voices singing one song! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs and I hope you’ve enjoyed this series!

youtube

#miraculous ladybug #Miraculous Barbie #barbie and the diamond castle #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #julerose #Youtube

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cruisingheightswithdragons · 1 year ago

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These prompts are too fun, have another little writing!

39. Acquiring a horse or pet

Huffing, sweat dribbled down and soaked their fur as Dah’ni exited the cave they had just cleared, carrying odd pieces to a dwarven construct of some kind. They felt the hot sun strike at their already overheated frame, and dropped the heavy pieces to the ground. Groaning, they fell to their knees, letting a shallow pool of water lap at their legs. On the other end of the pool, a large dwarven piece to match with the others that Dah’ni had carried lay, the waters licking at the golden thing— whatever it was.

The khajiit had just conquered an incredible dwarven ruin, in which it seemed the old inhabitants mastered the nature of seasons. It was an incredible adventure, one they would have to tell their friends in Whiterun as soon as they return. The parts they had brought out must fit into the piece in the pool, as it seemed obvious to Dah’ni.

“Next time, you’ll ask for help instead of being stubborn, yes?” Another khajiit took his place just beside Dah’ni. He twitched his black ears, annoyed at his partner’s refusal for help, yet amused at the consequences. He couldn’t help but curl back his white muzzle with a smirk.

“Kharjo,” Dah’ni gasped, “Need this one boast at khajiit’s misery?”

“Only when you bring them about on your own accord.” Kharjo purred. His grey tail swished from side to side, dotted with black spots. He paused. “Now then, why did you insist on bringing these things out here? Certainly not to melt them into arrowheads, no?”

“No.” Dah’ni grabbed the heavy piece that looked like a digitigrade hind leg. Using the limited knowledge of dwarven construction that they had learned over time, they fit the piece into a socket in the other metal thing in the water. It seamlessly clicked into place. Dah’ni looked back to Kharjo with a satisfied grin. “Come and bring me the others, please.”

“So now this one asks for help?”

“Fatigue is very persuasive.”

Kharjo obliged, and grabbed the other four pieces himself, placing them down next to his partner as they set to work. “How ever did you figure out dwemer things?”

“It only takes a bit of smithing know-how, and listening to that old elf in Markarth blather on and on!” Dah’ni fit another piece in before they and Kharjo flipped the construct over to the other side. “It is very easy to connect the dots on what is missing from our understanding of their machines.”

Kharjo gave Dah’ni another piece to slide in. “Easy for this one to say.”

Dah’ni finished with two more pieces before grabbing one last thing to attach: a metal piece in the shape of a horse’s head. On the front of the construct was one last socket, which Dah’ni diligently attached the head to. Moving it around, Dah’ni let the ball joint of the neck roll before placing a grand soul gem in a small compartment in the chest.

Steam erupted from the shoulders of the automaton, causing Kharjo to leap back with his tail bristling. Dah’ni stood up and stepped back as the machine whirred to life. The legs of the dwarven construct adjusted its hold onto the ground before hoisting itself up. The golden horse blew a puff of steam from its nostrils before whinnying in a mechanical tone.

“Haha!” Dah’ni exclaimed in jubilation. They reached out their hands and felt the metal snout warm up. “I knew that those metal things in the ruin were parts to a horse! Look at this beautiful creature!”

Kharjo let his fur lie flat, staring at the machine with curiosity. “Can it even be considered a creature?”

“Well, it won’t need any horse feed, so that’s one expense taken care of.” Dah’ni rounded to the side of the horse, hand slipping over a concave bronze arc in its back shaped like a saddle. They grabbed onto a metal bar at the base of the horse’s neck and brought themself up to mount the steed. “Very roomy up here!” They reached out their hand to Kharjo.

The khajiit warrior hesitated before accepting the hand, being helped up onto the saddle just behind Dah’ni. He winced as his tail caught hot steam coming from the machine’s legs. Now that he was up there, he admitted to himself that it was quite the feat to bring a mechanical horse back to life. The metal was comfortably warm against the chill evening air, and Kharjo could see himself using this steed to keep the cold at bay.

Dah’ni wrapped their hands around two metal levers just above the horses shoulders, and pushed them forward. The horse took a few steps forward, startling the cats and making Dah’ni put the levers back into resting position. “Ahah… such a quick response!” They adjusted the levers again, steering the horse down the path they had taken to get up the mountain. It trotted along smoothly as Dah’ni commanded it to ride down to the main road.

Kharjo held onto Dah’ni’s hips and hummed. “So then, what will be its name?”

“Hm?” Dah’ni glanced back at their passenger before facing the front again.

“You now have a horse, and yet it does not have a name. It is only right that the one who revived it does the honor.” He rested his chin on the driver’s shoulder.

Dah’ni looked on ahead as they hit the cobbled road, metallic steps clanking against the stone. To name something as unique as a mechanical horse… Dah’ni couldn’t help but wonder. It took a moment of silence until an idea popped into their mind.

“Car,” Dah’ni settled on, “It’s name is Car.”

“Car?” Kharjo lifted his chin and eased his grip. “Does that have some sort of meaning to you?”

Dah’ni shook their head. “I am unsure why, but it just seemed like a fitting name.”

Kharjo purred. He regained his hold on Dah’ni as the twosome rode along towards Rorikstead. The sun’s glow came and went as they passed the rocky mountains of the Reach, letting Car’s metallic coat shine a brilliant gold.

#the elder scrolls #tes #skyrim #skyrim oc #tes oc #dah’ni #kharjo #my fic #I am absolutely going to be writing more of those prompts augh I’m highly enthused #the dwarven horse and turn of the seasons additions to skyrim are so fun and such great writing material #if I could actually name the thing you bet it’d be car!!

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vulgarvixxen · 1 year ago

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cervical penetration with Patton. We need some morality pussy every once in a while.

I tried a different style but it doesn’t translate well on tumblr so check it out on AO3

Tw: non traditional genitalia, mild degrading, biting

There was a reason Patton wanted to be considered the fatherly side but the reason was lost on the dark sides who hadn’t grown up with him, see each side of the Mindscape evolved as Thomas grew in a mirrored way in ways that reflected Thomas’s thinking. As a kid he was told that there needed to be a mommy and a daddy, his mind decided that each half of the mind needed a girl to be the mom. On the light side Patton had originally been formed as “Patty” but she never felt like a girl, when Thomas got older and met more people his ideas and understandings grew too. “Patty” became Patton almost overnight with Logan and Roman being happy to accept their friend for who he is, they even helped him get top surgery when Thomas was in college and was studying biology.

On the dark side of the mind a similar situation occurred with the edgy trio, Virgil had once been called “Melinno” or “Mel” after the Greek poet. He hated being different and he changed his name and wore baggy clothes as soon as Thomas learned what being trans was. It did help that his monstrous(animal) form made him feel manly with his ovipositor. Of course Remus and Janus playfully teased him (at least they thought it was playful, Virgil didn’t get the memo) until he left for the light side. The GG trio never brought up Patton’s transition and Virgil never brought up his own, to their knowledge the other was a CIS man like the rest of the sides.

As Janus and Remus messed with their “rivals” the two remaining sides were hanging out in Pat’s room, casually cuddling and watching a blooper reel from a muppet movie. It was during a video with Kermit and Fazzy that a familiar and hot sensation washes over Virgil, he curses under his breath as he checks his phone’s calendar. His seasonal heat shouldn’t start until the end of the week, what was it doing here so early?! There was no time to go to the imagination and find a cave to hide in for a few days, Patton would be concerned if he just rushed off without explanation too.

“H-hey Pat?”

“Hmm?”

“Imtransandaspidermonsterandmyheatjustcameearlycanwefuck?!”

“Uhhh, Virgy, can you say that again but slower?”

“I’m, um, trans. I also ha-have weird genitalia. My heat cycle came early. C-can I, would you…can I deposit into you? I promise it won’t hurt! They’re all duds anyway!”

After a few beats of silence Patton tosses the bowl of popcorn to a side table and hugs Virgil close.

“Thank you for telling me, I meant to tell you forever ago that I’m a trans man! I’d love to help you out with your problem. And after we can talk to Logie about anything you might want done, he and Roman created a doctor to give me top surgery! Best Father’s Day present ever!”

The amount of information was dizzying…or that could be the hormones fogging up Virgil’s brain, he catches the gist of it and nods. Next thing he remembers is kissing, Patton kissing him breathless as they both groped and grinded with a feverish need. Pat pulls off his shirt easily and then starts on Virgil’s, revealed is the pink and purple galaxy binder,

“That’s so pretty, mine was real with palm leaves. Well…it was more of a sports bra than a binder, it was always too constricting for my taste.”

He tosses away the shirt and helps Virgil out of his binder, the emo is too horny to be bothered by his body being so not masculine. The skin looks irritated so Patton is sure to be gentle when he roams his hands down Virgil’s sides, the poor thing whimpering in need and relief.

“Pat, pl-please, need to be in you so bad!”

“Shhh, soon. Let’s get rid of some more clothing and then you can have me.”

Khakis are flung over to the rest of the clothing pile, boxers a second later, the zipper to skinny jeans followed after some shimmying. “Aww, your boxers match!”

“Patton!”

The galaxy boxers get tugged off and Virgil sighs in relief as Patton gasps in joy, Virgil’s ovipositor was thick and glistening as it waited for a warm place to be buried into. It twitches when a curious hand strokes it causing Virgil to moan, low and animalistic. In a split second decision Patton hops on top of Virgil, sinking down part way before stopping. The natural elasticity of frogs let him stretch around the girth without a problem, the combination of their slick making it even easier as he rose and sank at a quick pace.

“Fuck, fuck, you whore, should have been fucking you for years! You take me better than even Remus and he’s a good slut.” Virgil growls out, hands on Patton’s hips to pull him down with a harsher snap. The mild insult makes Patton unexpectedly more wet, “You like being my whore? Good, then you should know whores stay on their backs!”

With a movement so fast that it should have left them dizzy, Virgil flips their positions, he pounds into Patton at an unrelenting speed until he gets to resistance. “Shit, bet no one has ever fucked you this deep, huh whore. Don’t worry we’ll get used to it soon.” He pushes against the muscles blocking him from his goal for a short time then stops, the process repeats as Patton struggles to figure out if this is painful or pleasing. Just as he thinks that he’s going to have to tap out the pressure inside him gives and Virgil is inside his womb!

“Virgil! Fuck me, breed me, I’m your little whore! Please please, pretty please breed me!” The others could probably hear him but the thought didn’t cross his mind, actually the only thing he can think of is how knows that the pressure he wasn’t sure about is definitely pleasure. His heart jumps into his throat as he feels Virgil’s thumb circle his clitoris, a thrilled croak leaves his mouth followed by a breathy moan. Teeth are on his throat a second later, sucking and biting marking as Virgil plays with him. So much is happening that Patton cums without a chance to say anything.

Virgil bites him hard as he climaxes, “Now you can take all of them.” He purrs into Patton’s ear, venom making the other lax and pliable. The last few inches of his ovipositor pushes in and Patton whimpers, “Oh honey, it’s only going to get better. You’re going to feel so full soon, whore, and then we can have fun pushing them all out.” It sounds like a threat from a predator but it’s really a promise of my pleasure. Patton moans as he feels the first egg press through the ovi and deposit inside his womb, Virgil grins and nuzzles the bite mark.

Half an hour later Patton is the size of a beach ball and Virgil is cooing at the image, “Virgie, c-can you take pictures? I want to remember this for forever.” He can’t see which phone Virgil is using but he hears the click of the camera app. Patton actually liked this, he had always thought that being trans meant that he had to hate everything that came with what body he was made with but maybe he could indulge and still be dad.

#mayternity #not safe for sanders #minors dni #nsfs virgil #nsfs patton #cervical penetration #trans Patton #trans Virgil

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partialconstellations · 2 years ago

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WIP WORD SEARCH

tagged by @jeyne-stark

my words were rose | cloud | sleep | red | legacy

cloud

from the Theonsa professor/TA au: Theon tries (and fails) not to be biased against the new professor joining their department and realises, that actually, they’ve met (in the carnal sense) before.

And then, Rodrik got sick, knocking their department head out of commission for at least the semester, if not the entire term, leaving the perpetually understaffed Ironborn history department scrambling to find someone to fill in on a couple of classes on such short notice. The person they found is technically qualified, but she was poached from the Northern history department—those pricks—and the ink on her diploma hasn’t even dried yet. How someone who studied the North could possibly be anything but biased against the Iron Islands, well.

Luckily, Theon is in the best possible position to watch her, because at least someone was sane enough to assign someone from within the department as her TA. It’s not quite nepotism – except it quite literally is – that he got the job. It’s also because nobody else applied for it, making him the most qualified by default.

So when she sweeps into their glorified corridor of a common room in a cloud of sunshine and with an air of superiority—real or imagined—around her, she’s already got all eyes on her and the possibility of someone already plotting her murder. It’s clear from the very first moment that she doesn’t (and won’t) fit in.

sleep

Robb survives the RW and is taken prisoner, Sansa is elected KitN instead of Jon, Robb marches North with the smallest of forces after Arya frees him; also Dany arrives at some point and is outmaneuvred from the very start. no, this doesn’t have a snappy title. also, Robb and Sansa end up sharing their Theon.

Sansa and Robb both had taken great pains in dressing for the occasion -- or rather, Sansa had done so on Robb’s behalf. He just as likely would have greeted the dragon queen in mud-stained riding leathers, but that was not the impression Sansa intended to give her. She had entered Robb’s chambers before sunrise, sending Theon scrambling to cover himself until he realised it was her stalking towards Robb’s wardrobe, flinging it open to go through its contents without so much as a by-your-leave. Robb had accepted the clothes she had chosen with bleary, sleep-crusted eyes, dressing without complaint, thick wool shirt, doublet eschewing a gambeson, leather jerkin overtop. It was Theon, of course, who had noticed that they matched and almost undid all of Sansa’s work by eagerly trying to talk them both into bed with him.

red

from threyne sharing bodyheat au:

Why must everything in this godsforsaken wasteland be so cold? Theon’s chambers had never been the warmest, he only had a little hearth and he was bad at getting up in the middle of the night to feed his fire. When Theon managed to burrow out of his nest of blankets and furs to blink at his hearth, there weren’t even embers left. Sighing, he bundled himself into his thickest blanket, took a deep breath to steel himself against his bare feet hitting the cold floors and crept out of his bedchamber toward Robb’s. Robb the little lord had a nice, big hearth, and of course the perfect little lord also was perfect at banking his fire to last. He was also only too happy to share his bed. When Theon entered the bedchamber, there was only a big lump under the blanket and a tuft of red hair peeking out of visible. The blanket lifted at his approach, he was greeted with a mumbled jumble of words and soon he was enveloped in a nice, warm cave, and two slender arms wrapped around him.

no rose or legacy, I’m afraid.

tagging @gingersprites @selkiewife and whoever else would like to participate with the words

wolf | trust | dark | fire | sea

#theonsa #reyne #threyne #robbeonsa #theon greyjoy #sansa stark #robb #jeyne westerling #my fic #ask game

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specterseen · 2 years ago

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nevermore verse. robin is not normal and her dad knows that. her mother was the same. robin's powers only came to her in the tenth grade. seeing the ghost of a disemboweled janitor with a caved in skull as the cherry on top was not fun. unfortunately, causing a scene at the water fountain she was in line for. this kind of got her labeled as a freak. y'know... the usual mean kid stuff. she didn't go to school for a whole week after that. this whole situation definitely didn't help her since she's been dealing with the death of her mom a year prior. her grandmother elsie sensed her power unlock that day and showed up unannounced off a greyhound bus a couple days later. she lives a couple states over. robin was sat down and was given an explanation for her sudden sight of ghosts and to not be afraid of it. but instead to own it. grandma elsie revealed she had a separate savings account specifically for this moment. albeit she wishing it was sooner so robin could've been there the moment she was old enough to get in. robin was set to have an interview at nevermore academy that week. turns out, her mother was a student once way back then. she married a normie, her father. he urged robin to go since it might help her. probably way better than staying in a normal high school.

principal weems agreed that robin was a match for the academy and was accepted the day after her interview. scared but nervous, she moved in at the start of the fall semester. she rooms with a vampire, it can get kind of dim in there. when robin was moving into her dorm, her grandmother gave her a trunk. a trunk filled with all the books filled with knowledge about ghosts and her own abilities. this is to help her on her journey with figuring out and controlling her powers. the first full night she spent at nevermore academy, she felt this weird buzzing feeling in her body. yes, it was weird but not necessarily a bad weird? robin woke up the next morning with a fully grey right eye, which had only happened once before while she had relived the death of a ghost. but this time it wouldn't go back to normal. for the first time in her life she felt a bit grounded as she stood there staring at herself with her new look. (she was actually a bit shy about it the first time she was earned permission to visit jericho) she figures its the academy grounds helping her embrace who she is as an outcast. or a freak... she's not sure which one to identify with but she must be one since its advertised on the brochures. she's definitely not a monster. robin spends her time talking to some ghosts who wander around the school. there's not much but she's grown to like them. a few of them look like they've come straight out of a gory, horror film just like everything else around the school it seems. you'll find her frequenting the libraries or doodling ghosts in the courtyard. she's always got noise cancelling headphones on either listening to her thoughts or silently jamming to music. you'd have to tap her shoulder or wave a hand in front of her face if you want her attention. she won’t tell anyone but sometimes when she visits jericho she’ll try to run off to find abandoned placed to talk to ghosts.

#headcanon.#i also put this in her actual verses pages >:)

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lilmissussunshine · 1 year ago

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you are a library and i am an old lady's storage building.

i am nocturnal. i come alive in the dark. i like it there, in the shadows and the wasteland and the junkyard. just the crickets and frogs and owl and the twinkling christmas light stars and the thoughts bouncing around inside my brain. the bright flashing of the computer screen and the plink-plink-plink of my keyboard. the slight ache in my back from sitting in the same position for three and a half hours. the smell of tea to my left and the cat purring behind me and the white-noise from the fan.

i like the way it sounds, the not-so-quiet of the quiet. i like the fact that everyone is sleeping except me and the bats.

you want me to sleep. or clean my room or dust the fan or sweep the cobwebs out of the corner. “if you’re going to stay up, stay up and be productive.” thinking myself in circles is my idea of productive.

i know the clothes on the floor bother you. the disheveled madness of my shelves. the pile of novels and notebooks scattered about like snow. the shoe boxes of markers and photographs and magazine clippings and paperclips and firecrackers and years-old candy. i see your eye twitch every time you open the door, and you never step inside.

if we were not people, you would be a library in the halls of harvard sorted by genre and then alphabetized. you would be color coded too and smell of linen and old paper. the tables would be exactly four feet apart, all with the same amount of chairs and those little furniture pads on the feet to keep the hardwood from scratching. there would be silent students sitting with their shoulders straight and typing with just their first two fingers.

i would be a dilapidated green building with scoliosis, caving in on itself, overtaken with ivy and rats. i would be filled with cracked mugs and banned books and used needles and dirty sheets and costume jewelry and jars of tears and shoes without a match and the wallpaper would be peeling away from the walls and there would be cracks in the ceiling and no one would want to come in even though the door is unlocked and the windows ajar.

you don’t understand and that’s okay. you are a library and i am an old lady’s storage building. and i know that you want to fix me, but i do not think that i’m broken. i am bent, yes, just a little. cracked, i’ll admit it, a small hairline. nothing a band-aid or a quick prayer won’t fix. the issue is the chemical imbalance, the neurodevelopmental disorder. i have come to terms with the misfiring in my skull. it’s okay. what isn’t okay is you expecting me to be your version of me.

you want me neater. you want me well-rested and put-together. you want me color-coded and alphabetized. you want me better. better? no. i can’t suddenly be not so frazzled or not so messy or not so depressive and nocturnal. it is all part of me and i am sorry it isn’t a part of me you understand. i’m not asking you to understand, though. i’m asking you to accept.

you preach unconditional love. can you practice?

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dangermousie · 2 years ago

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This OTP is going on my all time favorite list. I love how utterly equal they are. He bears the spike for her and she bears the cave for him, but for the both it’s not just for the right to be with the other person, it’s for the people - as a way to showing commitment and duty.

God, the understanding that you need to pay for your choices and there is no free lunch, but that it’s still worth it!

He is perfect because he wants this and she is perfect because she won’t let him.

This is amazing!!!! She wants to be his equal. Not a hindrance but a help. And she accepts everything about him including the fact that he became the ruler after being forced to kill his father. She will match him step for step and like - he has never been loved and accepted this utterly and I don’t think many people have.

The crux of their argument. But the thing is, she wins this argument as she wins every single one because unlike Rong Hao who went against everything the one he loved stood for and wanted because what he wanted for her mattered more to him, DFQC will always let Orchid do what she wants however it hurts him because that is what true love really is - putting the one you love above self.

!!!!! I did not realize until this moment that the cave is where his father put him. Which!!! The hell!!! He put a child into the worst torture in their world. Over and over and over. And he’s the only one who survived ever which (a) what on earth was wrong with his horrific father? (b) despite those horrific odds he still ultimately lets Orchid proceed. He never ever takes a choice away from her, even such a horrific one, because he knows what it’s like to have your choices taken away.

The explicit parallels she draws between them. She will never be lesser, not even in capacity to withstand suffering.

Screaming!!! Screaming!!!!

And the answer is yes he can. Even though he went through this exact hell as a child so he knows what it feels like.

But the theme of being responsible for your choices continues and continues. She gets medicine from his brother that would prevent DFQC feeling her pain (and I love that she thought of it) and I love that the brother panics because it was all done out of misguided love for his older brother but the whole point of the narrative is we accept all consequences for our actions and choices.

#cdrama #dylan wang #cang lan jue #esther yu #love between fairy and devil

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hongism · 3 years ago

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05 - j.wooyoung + lingerie (18+)

» j.wooyoung x gn!reader » 18+ dni if minor, nsfw/pwp » language, feminization, lap dancing, strip tease, bratty wooyoung, manual stimulation, grinding, cum eating, dirty talk, finger sucking » wc 3.3k » link to masterlist

you’ve almost come to the conclusion that tonight was a complete and utter waste of time when your eyes pause in their subtle search across the room. it’s fast, and you almost miss him because of how quickly you’re surveying the club, but you have to backtrack at the sight of the pink head of hair. it’s not too out of the ordinary — not for a club like this one at least, and frankly, the face connected to the stark hair entrances you more than the hair does. the friend at your side seems to notice where your gaze keeps lingering, elbow careening into your ribs seconds later.

“like what you see over there?” she giggles, most likely amused by how you jolt and startle with the contact.

“he’s pretty,” you mutter back as you strain your neck a little to catch sight of the rest of him. he’s not up on a stage with the other dancers, not wrapped around a pole or anything like that, so you can’t get a full and clear view of what he’s wearing.

“he doesn’t perform with the others, i hear. solo performer, and only does private shows.”

sure, there’s a stack of money set aside for this particular reason, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to cave and spend it all on this one man.

you aren’t.

it’s not going to stop you from getting up and going over there to get a better look at him.

“i’ll be back,” you mutter, picking up your wallet and drink with the same hand. you’re hoping it won’t look obvious to your friend, but the laugh that follows your movements is telling enough.

“have fun!”

you step through the crowd of couches that are mostly full of older men and women, apologizing each time you cross in front of them and accidentally block their view of the dancers. your target hasn’t moved, still lingering near the bar with a drink set in front of him as he also indulges in the sight of the dancers on stage. you’re almost fooled into believing that he’s simply a client here and not actually a worker, but there’s a certain sway to his hips and head against the music thumping through the club that says otherwise. he moves his body too well even with subtle and small movements. elbows propped up on the bar counter behind him, a lollipop dangling from his fingertips and periodically going up to catch on his tongue, and that pretty pink hair bouncing with each movement he makes. you’re enticed in an instant.

the obscenity of his outfit doesn’t help one bit either. and perhaps obscenity is a bit too strong a word to describe it, but your brain goes to static and white noise the more you see of him, and it’s easy to see why that is. a sheer lavender crop top that does nothing to hide the lace bralette underneath, along with a pretty plaid skirt that tapers his waist almost too well, belts and buckles hanging from both sides and jingling when he sways his hips in time with the music. the further down your eyes go, the more overwhelmed you get because he’s got fishnets (of course) that lead to chunky black combat boots. he looks simultaneously quite out of place here while also seeming like there’s no other logical place for him to be. your steps towards him falter a little; it’s no wonder that he doesn’t have anyone at his side right now. he’d outshine them without even trying, and the air around him feels a bit untouchable as well like he’s too good for anyone’s presence except his own and the bartender behind him. the thought to turn around and return to your friend like a dog with its tail between its legs crosses your mind. that’s all it does though because as you shift to act on that thought, sharp eyes snap over to meet yours across the bar counter.

opposite ends of the spectrum, separated by at least ten barstools if not more, plenty of other people in front of him to look at, yet the dancer cranes his head in your direction and makes eye contact.

your tongue darts out to wet your lower lip, an act more out of nerves than meant to be seductive in the slightest.

there’s no direct invitation to go further towards him. really all he does is incline his head slightly, and you take it as a cue to step around the barstools and walk over to where he’s tapping his chunky boot against the floor.

“hi.”

you startle upon hearing his clear tone, although you aren’t wholly sure why that’s the case.

“hello,” you greet in return. you keep your glass caught firmly between your fingers as you sit in the barstool beside him. he looks even prettier in this light — with blinking up at him from where you sit and the neon lights cascading over his face and hair. there’s a stunning beauty mark under his eye, and another on his lower lip under the sheen of pink lip gloss. something sparkles under his eyes and in the inner corners, what you can only assume to be eyeshadow and glitter.

“i caught your eye, huh?”

there’s a twinge of embarrassment that shoots through your body, and you duck your chin to your chest, clearing your throat as quietly as you can like it’ll dispel the nerves accompanied by the feeling.

“cute,” the man continues. his sweet tone is almost like honey, or some syrup that tastes like it could be too much after a certain point. “wanna buy my time then?”

the offer comes so quickly that you’re a bit shocked. all these people in the club and yet not one has approached him? or accepted his offer? it seems far too unbelievable.

“you’re not gonna ask me anything first? my name, my age, anything like that?”

he laughs for the first time tonight, and you think you’ll grow to love that sound by the end of it. the lollipop pushes back between his lips only for him to make a show of how he swirls his tongue around the ball of candy. when he pulls it back out, it springs free with a lewd pop in its wake.

“you’re the first one tonight who’s stopped me to ask that. most just jump straight to it. i’m wooyoung. and you?”

“y/n.”

“hmm, it’ll sound prettier coming from my lips later.”

your brain buffers and hits a wall. you lose whatever thought was lingering in your mind, and wooyoung has the audacity to flash a grin and send a wink your way.

“you’re in luck tonight, y/n. i only start taking clients at ten o’clock, and it’s two minutes past ten right now.” a strobe of neon red flashes over his face, illuminating his eyes in a way that makes your heart jump in your chest. “assuming you want me, that is,” he adds through a stretched grin, and you wouldn’t dream of denying him the pleasure of hearing your affirmation.

“yes, i’d like that quite a bit.”

wooyoung leads you off to the side of the club, where the hallway of private rooms begins, and he wastes no time in bringing you into the nearest unlocked one. you’ve got your wallet still clasped between nervous hands, but your drink was long forgotten on the bar counter you found wooyoung at. it’s fairly standard for this type of room, nothing to gawk at or make note of aside from the metal pole that stretches up to the ceiling. you’re certain your attention will be firmly planted on wooyoung throughout the entirety of your stay here, so you aren’t worried much about making yourself at home.

the dancer seems keen on the same as well, or at least he’s excited to get started. knowing how much money you’ve got in your wallet, you can’t blame him for the excitement. he turns to face you after shutting and locking the door, skirt billowing around his thighs a little. you think you see a flash of lace underneath, tucked under the fishnets, but that could very well be merely a wistful thought and nothing else.

“lay down,” he demands, motioning to the short round table right in front of the couches.

“um…” you blink from the white surface to wooyoung’s serious expression.

“what? never had a lap dance before?” he quirks a brow and flashes another dastardly grin, and you hate the way your stomach flips over at the sight of it.

“not one where i’ve had to lay down, no.”

wooyoung huffs out a laugh and pops his lollipop back into his mouth. he steps around your awkward, still form to put one of his feet up on the pristine white surface. the boot releases a hollow noise when it hits the table.

“oh, you’ll love it, i promise. now come on, on your back, legs relaxed. i’ll make it worth your while. and your money too, we hope.”

wooyoung’s little tilt to his chin and the soft bats of his lashes are what convince you to do as told. you slip your shoes off next to the couch and tuck your wallet away in one of them lest wooyoung has the bright idea to make off with all your belongings. then you scramble over the slick surface to lay flat atop it, eyeing wooyoung as he hums and steps up fully on the table over you. his feet straddle your body, right in the gap between your hands and hips, and he pushes that stupid lollipop back between his lips.

“here are my rules, y/n. no touching, no kissing on the lips, no marking, and no demands. you’re here for a show, so i’ll give you one. and maybe i’ll use you to get off a little too? what do you say?”

you suck your lower lip between your teeth, contemplating his words and rolling them over in your mind a bit.

“and if i say no?”

“then i’ll give you a simple lap dance, and that’ll be that. and don’t worry. if i cum… i’ll clean up after myself. you don’t have to do any work really, if you don’t want to.”

“if i don’t want to?” you echo your question.

“how do you feel about sucking my fingers?”

your dumb and stuttered blinking are answer enough for him, and wooyoung leans over to the couch, balancing on one foot as he stretches to reach for something on the cushions. the position give you a far too direct view straight up his skirt. you get confirmation that you did indeed spot lace �� a matching set with his pink bralette it seems on top of that.

the music that begins to thump through the speaks is foreign to you, not a song you’ve ever heard before, but the beat is sultry enough for you to understand why wooyoung would play this.

and truly, when he starts to move above you, you fully understand the appeal of this angle. getting to watch the way his skirt sways and teases what’s underneath as his cropped top flutters with his winding movements — it’s a heady feeling being under him and seeing this unfold over you.

wooyoung does his job, and he does it well in only a few swaying moves that promise more to come. if you had to make a comparison, you’d say it’s like watching art in motion, an exhibit where the artist shows you each stroke and twist of his brush. that’s wooyoung now, with the showcase of how he stretches his arms to the ceiling and brings them down the front of his body. the dim lighting in the room does nothing to make the mood less than what it is — pure seduction at its finest, and wooyoung is quickly bringing you down that pit of lust with him. you only know that’s where he’s headed as well because of how his skirt begins to tent a little as time goes on, evidence to how turned on he is by merely dancing to the music. he hasn’t gotten down far enough to even have physical contact with you, but with the way he’s moving now, you aren’t sure he’ll even get that far either.

he does go lower as the song shifts, beat still unfamiliar against your ears, but you’re barely hearing the music beyond how the bass thumps through your veins. as his knees settle on either side of you, close to your waist now and closing in just enough to squeeze you with a hair of pressure, his hands move up under the fabric of his top. they press higher and higher, catching on the hem and tugging as he reaches his neck. your eyes burn like you haven’t blinked in ages, and to be frank, you most likely haven’t because the grip wooyoung has on your focus currently occupies every fiber of your being.

wooyoung works the shirt off, tossing the sheer material over to the side. the look of his tanned skin with blush pink lace overtop clinging to him like a vice under the low lights: it’s sin in its purest form. and that sin only amplifies as he draws his hands down to the waistband of his skirt. he teases and pulls at the material, still lost somewhere between his mind and the music. one of his hands works back up his chest and throat, and when he reaches his mouth, he pulls the lollipop stick out to reveal a now empty stick that is also promptly tossed in the same direction his shirt went.

“aren’t i pretty, y/n?” he asks all of a sudden. he’s not looking at you, not with the way his eyelids are barely shut, but it captures all your attention nonetheless. “pretty and feminine, hm? some people think i don’t dance as well as the girls out on the stages. but i’m just as pretty as them, aren’t i?”

“more,” you exhale without thinking.

“more,” he echoes back to you with an airy giggle to accompany it. his hands go to the side of his skirt, grabbing onto something on the left, and two seconds later he’s pulling away the entire strip of fabric in one swift movement. you inhale so sharply it stings your nostrils and aches in your chest, and wooyoung takes that as the opportune moment to roll his hips down against your abdomen. it’s not meant for your please, not in the slightest, but you still feel the coil of arousal in your gut snap and pull at itself as he repeats the motion and rubs his barely concealed erection against your stomach. “i’m always prettier than them, y/n.”

wooyoung’s eyes snap open at last, and he drops his skirt to the side before sitting up on his knees over you. the position is nothing if not lewd with how close to your face he is like this. you don’t have much time to think about it because he’s tugging the band of his fishnets down as well, shoes still caught on his feet so there’s no way they’ll go all the way off, but that doesn’t seem to be his intention anyway.

no, wooyoung just tugs them low enough to go under his knees, then he’s back to sitting on his heels and splaying his thighs to the side. the whole thing is a show: each piece of clothing, each drag of his hands, and every word from his lips.

it continues with him pressing his hand against your chin, then teasing your lower lip with his middle and pointer fingers.

“you know… people always call me a brat. a bratty little bitch, to be specific. they aren’t wrong, of course. but they mean it as an insult whereas i take it as a compliment.” you suck wooyoung’s fingers between your lips and let him explore your mouth with the pads of them. he makes a show of stretching the insides of your cheeks, stabbing against them and watching your skin bulge under the pressure, then he’s pinching your tongue and scraping his nails over the top of it. it tickles in a pleasurable way, the kind that makes your stomach knot up and tense with lust. “i think i’m prettiest when i cum though. and that’s not something i let a lot of people see. they always get handsy even after i tell them not to. think that because i’m all subby and docile, they can break my rules.”

you watch in something of a daze as wooyoung reaches his other hand down to the lace lingerie clinging to his cock. he grips hard enough for you to see the harsh outline of his member, strained and stretching the fabric like it’s about to break. his slow rolls and sways of his hips continue even as he fucks into the palm of his own hand. you don’t think you could move or touch him even if you wanted to right now. each limb feels like it weighs ten tons.

“call me pretty again, y/n. a pretty little brat, yeah?”

you can’t very well do that with his hand halfway down your throat like it is now, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. all that comes out are muffled moans caught on wooyoung’s fingers. he laughs, throwing his head back as the sound permeates the air, and you were right. you love the sound even more now when he’s a bit breathless and hoarse from arousal, hips canting against your abdomen still as he pushes himself closer to the edge.

“gonna cum, y/n, and make a pretty mess of myself. pay good attention to me please. i want you to see every second of it.” his eyes blaze with unbridled desire as he rubs over his panties a few more times. teeth sink into his lower lip, his nose scrunches up, eyes fighting to stay open and stay on yours without blinking. then he hits his high. it’s beautiful the way he falls apart over you, how his hips stutter and give a few jerky thrusts until his whole body goes still on top of yours. you think you have to agree with him too; this is the prettiest he’s looked all night in your eyes.

it lasts either ten seconds or ten minutes — you have no concept of time right now, too enamored with the man above you and every movement he makes.

when he does come down, there are stars in his eyes and a sheen on his brow that trickles down the side of his face to his chin. he pulls his hand out of your mouth, but you can’t even bring yourself to close it as you watch him tuck the same hand into his underwear and scoop the stain of translucent white cum out.

“taste for me?”

you manage a shaky nod, letting wooyoung return his hand to your lips, and when he cups your mouth gently, you poke your tongue out to lap the cum off his palm.

“hm, now wasn’t that good? better than promised, in fact?”

“y-yeah,” you exhale, finally finding your voice after god knows how long of shocked and aroused silence. wooyoung grins. he leans over you, all but bare chest pressing to your clothed one, and you can feel the heat radiating off his skin with ease. his face hovers over yours. you can see his eyes clearer than ever.

“how about we go again then?”

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