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#what is that shit trope called anyway?
shima-draws · 8 months
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Ghost Cora AU where he’s actually been following Law around ever since he died but nobody has been able to see him, so all he’s able to do is watch Law get hurt and suffer in silence. UNTIL, miraculously, the battle of Dressrosa ends, and for some strange reason—through some supernatural bullshit or maybe just fate—one person is finally able to see him.
Law is sitting on the deck of the Yonta Maria watching everyone party when Luffy comes trotting over to him. And Luffy plops down beside him and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask, Torao, but who’s that really tall blonde guy with the funny makeup that’s been following you around?”
And Law’s just like
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I love it when Bakugou bristles when anyone other than Deku calls him Kacchan and Deku feels a pang of jealousy and sadness that someone else gets to say it and mistakenly thinks the name is what upset Kacchan and not the person saying it
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thyandrawrites · 1 year
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Reo's jerseys reading just "Reo" is such a Choice because I think he's the only one aside from Rin and Sae who goes by his first name. But at least in the brothers' case it makes sense to distinguish them since they have the same last name. Reo doesn't have that issue, but he did get into blue lock specifically to achieve something for himself that isn't tied to the Mikage empire, by his own merit. Between that and the fact that when he appears on screen in the various charts he's sometimes reffered to as "Mikage" and sometimes as "Reo", I like to think he chose to have his jerseys show just his first name as a bet with himself. You know, to show the world that on the field he's not The Prized Mikage Heir, but just himself. And his achievements are his own
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starlooove · 5 months
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Read one or two fics where they give Duke a personality treat Damian like a human being and stop sucking Tim’s dick for 5 seconds and everything else feels like forcing urself to eat normal food after tasting the fruits of the fae
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wasteland-lover · 7 months
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been having dreams of a certain yt boy as of late
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rollercoasterwords · 1 year
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idek if this is actually true but i saw ppl arguing abt the atyd james pov in a tiktok bc its apparently going to include jegulus which deviates from the original plot quite a bit. do you still think it should b called an atyd pov fic?? tbh i just think ppl are making a big deal out of nothing and anyone can write and take inspiration from anything yk?? but i do wanna know ur opinion on this
truly cannot emphasize enough how much i absolutely do not care what other people wanna write in their fics lmao
honestly i think ur right it's just people making a big deal out of nothing. if someone wants 2 imagine what jegulus would look like in an atyd universe then...that's fine. nobody has to read it if they don't want to. i certainly have no place 2 judge bc i included things in my own fic that were extrapolations and/or inventions that mkb likely would not have intended to/imagined including as part of her story. that's what fanfiction is tho! it is specifically someone else's take on a work that is separate + distinct from the og writer's, and nobody has to read it + treat is as gospel if they don't want to. like i honestly don't see the problem with someone writing a hyopthetical "atyd canon-compliant" fic that includes jegulus bc atyd itself is a "harry potter canon-compliant" fic that centers on wolfstar lmao. like do we see the irony there.
anyway i honestly just think that there's a portion of this fandom that is incapable of treating atyd like fanfiction and instead try to put it up on a pedestal in its own venerated category that treats it as if it is somehow simultaneously subject to much harsher + more public critique but also a piece of work that must be taken as gospel within the fandom which honestly just sucks for everyone imo. like people wouldn't care if someone's writing an atyd james pov including jegulus unless they feel entitled, in the first place, to certain representations of atyd fic that match what they view as the pure + untouchable "canon." but nobody is entitled to have a fic perfectly catered to their desires, even if it's an atyd fic! and if someone is deeply bothered and just needs to see their vision realized, then they can write their own fic and ignore the other ones.
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gaydogmarriage · 7 months
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feel like many of the ppl who critique hoyo for how they write women dont actually know wtf theyre talking about and arent much better themselves
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tunapesto · 2 years
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#rare exemption where i dont want to put Oh Gay Dads And Daughter trope on characters#idk idk its annoying me for no reason whausgshgsha#the sense of family and bond is Strong#but when i start thinking of that specific trope i get an aneurysm#and its not like there's anything inherently wrong with it#just something that i have grown to dislike for god knows what reason#i am talking about tghnri cno and cllei#what do i call their dynamic then?#i dobt know man#i just want them to be like random people who got together by chance and theyre all friends n help each other out#btw if u are reading this anyway. comms are not definitive#i feel like shitting . i have much to do#but maybe late october#not guaranteed but i would hope o7 i need money#i just dont like being overwhelmed#anyway idk it is funny that i just refuse to put anything remotely close to Father when it comes to personality#for nari and cno#nari is more like. an older cousin who took you in or just a very polite college student/new grad hes nice#cno... i like to think hes 40 for Haha reasons so its not age thats the issue#i just dont think he fits#cno would be more like . what#designated Guy of the neighborhood thats very protective of like. kids or something#somewhere between the range of father-grandpa-friendly street vendor-uncle#idk how to explain it ong it's just . theyre not disaster dads i will throw myself into solitary confinement for 1000 years#if i hear that phrase again#(looks at old hpfx disapprovingly...)#maybe its the instinct of cringing at anything i dont find remotely interestinf anymore idk
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hussyknee · 2 years
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i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes
(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)
Lmaoooo
Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:
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But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:
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Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.
Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.
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Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)
As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.
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It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂
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Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.
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Link to post (tags mine).
Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3
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Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.
found by @thepotch
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Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?
Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️
Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.
Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.
Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.
Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!
Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC
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I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.
Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)
Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)
Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)
Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)
Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday
As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.
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Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:
Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page
Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting
Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)
Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)
Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)
Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from
Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)
Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀
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(alt text included)
End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3
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Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:
More trailers!
Trailer 1 (My favourite)
Trailer 2
Trailer 3
Trailer 4
I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.
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It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.
Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!
And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.
YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:
InformOverlord (4:30)
Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)
End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.
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🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)
tw: unreality:
We did it you guys!
Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.
Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️
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gojosprettyprincess · 19 days
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Stuck in the washing machine trope with Stepbrother Bakugou x f!Reader
Tw- SMUT, Stepcest, dubcon in the beginning, Creampie, dumbification, anal play, he's aged up to 19, dirty talk, Heavy degradation and Bakugou is really really mean cause he's Bakugou duh, slight daddy kink, some bad grammar bc it's not proofread. MINORS DNI!!!!
Word count - 2350
A/n - I have no idea how someone can possibly get stuck in a washing machine but just pretend you can😔🙏
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Katsuki Katsuki! Holy fuck are you deaf or something?! I'm stuck!" you yelled at the top of your lungs as you tried your very best to wiggle yourself out from the washing machine opening. You can't even remember how you got yourself into this fucking mess, you were just trying to look and see if there were any more clothing pieces left behind because you've been noticing a few of your panties have gone missing the past few days and it kept getting worse and worse to the point where you barely have any left to wear, you assumed it's because you accidentally kept leaving them in the washing machine and now somehow your fucking stuck.
Heavy substantial footsteps were heard loudly outside the room before the wooden door went flying open, causing the doorknob to hit against the wall, causing a loud bang, "The fuck do you want, can't you see I'm tryna fucking play?" the annoyed blond growled at you.
"Shut up and get me the fuck out" You yelled annoyed, while kicking your legs back to get his attention.
"Woah some mess you got yourself into, sweetheart" he smirks slyly while analyzing the situation, staring down at your pretty ass poking out of the washing machine, barely even covered by those tight slutty shorts you always wore around the house that never failed to make his cock rock hard.
"Oh please, just shut up and get me out already", you kicked your feet back hoping that he was behind you so it would hit him. "I don't think that's how you speak to someone you're trying to get help from, princess".
You rolled your eyes at the annoying pet names he always calls you every fucking time but you've grown used to it by now but the constant teasing was so fucking annoying. "Listen are you going to help me or not?".
"That depends princess, are you gonna beg me to or not?" you wanted to punch him in the face so fucking badly, imagining the shit-eating grin he definitely has plastered on his face right now. "Your so fucking annoying! No way go to hell!" you yelled.
"Oh yeah? Is that so"
He chuckled as he bent down behind you, eyes fixated on the way the thin material hugged your ass cheeks so tightly and delicious, you're so vulnerable in this position, he could keep you there and pound your slutty little holes for hours and hours if he wants to- which is probably what he's gonna do anyways.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against your damped crotch, rubbing it slowly back and forth as he watched the way your body jolted unexpectedly.
"Wha-what are you doing! You sick fuck??" you screamed as you tried to wiggle your ass away from his hold. "Oh, come on princess, let's have some fun yeah? You might even like it" he teases before tugging down your tiny shorts, just to be greeted with your glistening dripping cunt. A string of your slick connects to the crotch of the shorts before snapping away as he pulls it down to your knee. He groaned as his eyes took in the delicious sight in front of him, "No panties? And your fucking dripping, you probably planned this out and did this purposely just so I can come and see you like this, dirty fucking slut" he lands a harsh slap on your right ass cheek as you closed your eyes in embarrassment when you realized you're basically fucking exposed to him.
"Go to fucking hell you perv" You snapped back at him, "Oh yeah? I'm the perv?, I'm not the one fucking soaked and dripping onto the floor sweetheart". He laughs mockingly.
His dick was painfully hard and eager, straining to be released from his sweatpants, what can a man do? It's not his fault his dumb little stepsister always runs around the house with those tight little booty shorts, ass almost fully exposed, basically begging to be pounded and now he has his chance so why not take it?
He pulls his sweatpants and underwear down, thick perfectly curved dick slaps against his thighs as pre cum oozes out of the angry red tip, he grips his fist around it before pumping himself a few times while circling your clit with his thumb, "Pretty little cunt you got here princess, been hiding this from me this whole time?"
"S-stop it Katsuki, this is wrong! You're my stepbrother, we can't do this!" you whined, it's so fucking wrong and fucked up and you sure as hell knew that, you just can't help but feel your needy cunt throbbing and yearning for more, it's only natural right?
Before you could even process anything else you felt his angry tip lining up at your entrance, his thick cock head bullying and prying it's way into your weeping tight hole before he shoves it all the way in unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of you as you hissed at the sudden pain.
"Hahh fuckk- Katsuki slow down!" you moaned as he starts thrusting his hard cock in and out of you like it was his mission to bruise and mark up your silky walls with his tip, strong hands gripping onto your waist as he stretches out your poor cunt with his fat girth, splitting that pretty little cunny in half as it drips all over him. "Holy fuckk you're so fucking tight hah- shitt" he hisses as your pussy clenches around him snugly, tightest cunt he ever fucked for sure.
He started pounding you harder, gripping the oversized T-shirt you wore as he rammed himself in the tight warm space between your thighs.
"Stupid little slut, is this what you need to shut that annoying little mouth of yours, my dick pounding this little pussy?" he took a mental note to give you exactly what you wanted when you're acting up and being a little bitchy brat to him. "Sh-ut up katsu-" shit you couldn't even form proper words to even say his fucking name, "Your the fucking worse fuh-ckk" you moaned out of pleasure. You can't even lie his cock was the best you've ever had and it's only been minutes since he started fucking you so that surely says a lot, his tip was grazing against the right spots in your hole, it's like his dick knew all the parts in cunt that would make your eyes roll to the back of your head and he was stretching your stuffy cunt with his cock soo good, it turnt you into a moaning mess.
"Oh yeah I know my cock is good you little slut, Gonna fuck you so stupid with it, you won't ever think about another guy's dick other than your stepbrother's" he smirks as he lands a hard slap on your ripped ass, watching the way the thick flesh jiggles against him, bouncing back against his pelvis as he drills himself so fucking deep inside of you. You're his little glory hole, he can stuff you full and deep of his seed and use your tight pussy for hours and fuck you so dumb that you can't even think for the rest of the week if he wants to.
He circles his thumb over your neglected butthole, the puckered hole fluttering against the pad of his thumb as he notices the way your moans got sweeter and louder at the gesture. He won't be surprised if you're a slut for anal he snooped through your room a shit ton of times looking for your dirty cum-stained panties he uses to jerk off to, to know that you have several jeweled anal plugs hidden away in your drawer.
"Mmm want me to put it in baby?" he teases, adoring the way the pink ring flutters on his thumb, soo eager and hungry to be stuffed and played with, "Ye-yes pleasee!" you hiccupped, purposely winking your hole for him desperately as a form of inviting him. "Heh, how cute" he mumbled before gathering your slick from your clit to rub it on the tiny rim before slowly sinking it in little by little. He groaned as he felt your cunt throbbing around his cock as your hungry asshole swallows his thumb into the hilt.
Heavy balls slapping against your clit as your eyes roll back to the back of your head as if you were possessed or something- or maybe you were, possessed by his fucking cock hitting your favorite spots in your hole that had you seeing stars. His cock was so fucking good, mushroom tip kissing your cervix with every single one of his mean thrusts. "Fuck wish I could play with those pretty tits" he groans, head falling back as he moans, your cunt felt like fucking heaven, so warm and tight just for him.
"Kat-Katsuki m' so close" you moaned as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach building up, "Yeah? That fast? My cock is that good huh?".
You let out a porn star-worthy moan when you felt his thick thumb sliding in and out of your tight bullied walls, matching the rough brutal pace of the pounding he was giving your poor pussy. He lifts up one of his legs and plants his feet flat on the floor so he can drill deeper into your cunt, "Fuckk yes daddy- don't stop fuck! Please don't stop" you cried out as you felt yourself approaching your release.
He chuckled mockingly, "Daddy huh? You're such a fucking dirty whore ya know that?" he slapped your ass so fucking hard that his handprint was definitely branded on your ass cheek, "Didn't know my dear little stepsis was such a cock-hungry slut, what'd ya think mom would say if she found out her innocent daughter was milking her stepbrother's cock and calling him daddy hm? Always knew you were a whore" he smirks as you whimpered and dripped to his mean words.
He pulled his thumb out of your butthole slowly and then groaned when he saw the delicious little gape he created. He brought his thumb up to his mouth before sucking it, gathering spit onto the finger then circling it around the gaped hole.
"Fuckk would you look at that, she's all prepped and ready for my cock, maybe after I'm done stuffing your cunt, I'll fill this one up too, bet you'll fucking like that", you felt his cock throbbing like crazy in your pussy as he imagined stuffing both of holes with his bitter cum and having you all plugged up n pretty with his seed deep in your asshole and the only thing keeping it in is the princess plug you have hidden away in your drawer- buried deep inside your ass.
You almost screamed when you felt him stabbing his cock into your cunt even harder, strong hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you still as he rams his hips against yours. The friction of his heavy balls slapping your clit made it feel even better as your cunt clenches around his cock, threatening to milk his balls into your pussy. You're not surprised that Bakugou was this good at fucking, after all, he was really fucking sexy and built, of course he had a lot of experience. You cried out when you felt his fingers rubbing harsh harsh circles on your clit, "Come on slut, need ya to cum on my cock, don't make me repeat myself" he grunts, head falling back when he feels your cunny squeezing around his cock soo much fucking tighter. You closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm approaching. His thrust was so fucking brutal, it's like he has some fucking personal problem and is taking it out on your poor cunt.
Before you could process anything else, you were gushing all over his pretty cock, warm liquid squirting all over his abs and pelvis and he continues pounding you through it, he lets out a slurpy moan while laughing, "Fuckk yeah that's it baby that's it, Gooddd girl" he thrusts got sloppier and sloppier when he felt his balls tightening. He didn't expect you to fucking squirt and make a mess all over him so it drove him fucking crazy.
You felt his cock twisting against your tight walls, assuming he was about to cum. Fuck, you felt so lifeless. The only thing holding you up was Katsuki's strong grip on your waist and the washing machine because you can't even think right now, your mind fully fucking clouded with his cock bullying your poor insides, splitting your sweet cunny apart. Fuck he's so mean, you shivered when you felt his fingers digging deep into your waist.
"Fuck m'gonna cum, gonna stuff this slutty cunt so full of my seed, it'll come right out your mouth bitch" he hisses before emptying his balls in your pussy, thick ropes of cum filling up your cumdump of a hole as you cried out when you felt his angry tip pushing the cum further and further into your cunny, making sure to stuff you full and not let any of it leak out or you'd have to lick it up.
He chuckles darkly when he hears you're out of breath whimpers. "Is this what you needed? A good little filling to shut that pretty mouth of yours? Because if it's dick you need to function properly you know where to find me baby" he chuckles, slowly pulling out his still-hard cock, being sooo careful that none of the cum drips out. He lines his tip up at the entrance of your butthole, smearing the cum onto the hole as it winks at him.
"Ready for the other filling?"
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months
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HEAR ME OUT
“Don’t you think I’m scary?”
“Scary? My god you’re divine”
AHHHHH
FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋
I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻
PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx
fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !
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before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.
he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.
he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.
and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'
anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.
usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.
but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.
katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.
but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.
you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."
"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.
he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."
"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.
"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.
pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.
he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.
"behave." you squeeze his hand.
"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.
"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.
you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"
"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.
"..how'd you-"
"your mom told me."
he grunts. of course, it was his mom.
that damn hag..
"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.
"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"
"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.
"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.
"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"
"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.
"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.
cool.
you think he looks cool.
"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.
"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.
"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.
"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.
"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.
"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)
he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.
finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.
"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.
"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask
"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.
"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.
until—
"OW, fuck !!"
your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!
until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.
the. asshole.
"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.
katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"
"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.
"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.
"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.
"i see you laughing."
today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.
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solarmorrigan · 5 months
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
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corollaservant · 4 months
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Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)
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Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)
Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)
A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.
You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.
Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 
You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.
‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).
‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 
‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?
You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 
‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.
‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 
‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.
‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.
My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 
‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?
‘’Two hours.’’ 
‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.
‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’
‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.
 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.
‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)
‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.
‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 
‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.
‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 
Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.
-
Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 
You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.
‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 
It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.
‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 
You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.
‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.
‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.
‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?
‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.
‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.
‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 
‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’
Unless you want to change my mind?
‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.
‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 
The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?
This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.
‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 
Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?
During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 
Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 
‘’W–what are y—’’
‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 
You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—
‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?
‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.
‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.
‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.
‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.
‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.
(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)
He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.
‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.
‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.
‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.
‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 
The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 
His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.
Shit, he’s big, can you take him?
‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 
He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.
‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.
‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.
‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 
‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.
‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.
‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.
‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.
Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 
‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–
‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes. 
‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.
‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')
‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.
‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.
He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 
‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.
‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.
‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.
‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 
And fuck if that isn’t hot.
He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.
God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.
You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.
See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 
‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 
Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 
You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.
‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’
Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.
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halfvalid · 1 year
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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
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ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
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“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion. 
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?” 
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!” 
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.” 
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.” 
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.” 
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.” 
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman. 
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought. 
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.” 
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her. 
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.” 
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed. 
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.” 
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.” 
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated. 
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.” 
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand. 
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?” 
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.” 
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.” 
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up. 
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.” 
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said. 
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.” 
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?” 
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe. 
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about. 
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.” 
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed. 
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.” 
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?” 
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.” 
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.” 
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?” 
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.” 
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.” 
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.” 
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.” 
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room. 
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?” 
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door. 
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.” 
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!” 
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on? 
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled. 
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you. 
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.” 
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably. 
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor. 
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.” 
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?” 
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.” 
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.” 
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in. 
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there. 
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.” 
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin. 
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?” 
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair. 
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly. 
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief. 
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed. 
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.” 
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said. 
“Okay, so neither of us do.” 
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.” 
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?” 
“Uh, nothing.” 
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?” 
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?” 
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.” 
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it. 
“Well?” Zoro prompted. 
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.” 
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.” 
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.” 
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.” 
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.” 
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.” 
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?" 
“Positive. It’s all me.” 
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed. 
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?” 
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.” 
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?” 
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.” 
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered. 
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh. 
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.” 
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.” 
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him. 
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?” 
“Hm?” 
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—” 
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought. 
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?” 
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.” 
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.” 
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe. 
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered. 
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped. 
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?” 
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.” 
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.” 
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.” 
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between. 
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body. 
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly. 
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered. 
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught. 
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black. 
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn. 
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together. 
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?” 
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.” 
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.” 
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…” 
“First?” you prompted. 
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go. 
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight. 
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—” 
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.” 
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.” 
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
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second chance ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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warnings: r is a mutant w/ blood manipulation powers :3, death is mentioned, grief, angsty and fluffy
a/n: I wanted to make the readers power dark but her personality the complete opposite. I like dark and brooding characters w/ sweethearts LMFAOO it’s my favorite trope atp
MASTERLIST
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Being sent to the void and being trapped in there was not how this was supposed to go at all. You stood up, confused as to where you were. You looked wildly around the deserted world, finding no one around you.
Sometimes you wonder how exactly it is that you got into this shit. After your boyfriend died saving the world, you let yourself go, not the happy go lucky person you usually were. Your friends noticed, you sulking around during missions, usually not saying a word to any of them.
Why’d he always have to be the damn hero?
And now you missed them, it was too quiet here for your liking. Your gaze landed on a patch of trees, seeming like the only form of life there. With a huff, you picked yourself up and walked towards the forage, walking around for a while until you came across something rather odd in this place.
A car? Here? It was random. What made you even more confused was the blood splatters all over it, the windows cracked. It was fresh blood, not dried yet, you could tell that much.
Slowly and curiously,you walked towards the car, peering inside quietly the two of them, Wade wrapped up in the seatbelts. Then your eyes were stuck on logan, heart stuttering and breath stopping at the sight of his bloodied body.
His eyes snapped open, eyebrows furrowing and forehead creased, he was going to attack you, barreling out of the car and standing in front of you before you jumped back and his movements paused.
You had already created a shield of their blood from the car, holding your hands out in front of you. You stared back at Logan, examining you as if it was as if he was wondering the same thing you were.
Is that you?
You put your hands down, blood falling back into the soil, both of you left staring at each other in silence.
It went on like that until Wade left out a cough, gasping and sitting up, struggling against the seatbelts.
“Motherfuck-“ he murmured out, both of you turning your heads to watch the man get out of his restraints.
He hopped out of the car, turning to the both of you staring back at him now. “You know what, I forgive you for that back there.” He told Logan.
“Gonna introduce me to your friend?” You asked with a small smile, both of them turning to look at you.
It was the first words Logan had heard you speak in a while, and Jesus, you even had the same smile.
“Pool. Dead.” He held his hand out, which looked broken. “Or Wade. You can just call me Wade.”
“Your um…” you cleared your throat, motioning to his floppy hand, that he quickly fixed back in place.
You shook his hand. “Y/n.” You mumbled.
“Where have I heard that name before…?” He asked, mostly to himself.
“I’m part of the x-men.” You told him. He snapped his fingers, remembering you suddenly.
“Oh, yeah! You’re dead in my universe.” He said the last part flatly.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Didn’t go so well for you. You have like… the blood bending powers, right?”
You snickered at his choice of words. “Blood bending is from avatar. Blood manipulation.” You corrected, but nodded anyways.
“So you’re like… Marie Moreau from gen v?”
You didn’t understand his reference.
“Are you two done?” Logan asked, his arms crossed against his chest.
“Cool your jets, wolvie.”
You had to suppress a smile at his choice of words, wolvie. You used to tease him with that nickname all the time. He glanced at you, before fixing his gaze back on Wade.
“What are you guys doing here anyways?” You asked them.
“Long story.” Logan spoke, still avoiding your gaze, his mind suddenly being flooded with the worst memories he has.
“Okay, then what are you guys planning to do? Except for stabbing each other.”
“We’ll catch you up, Katara.” Wade spoke, all of you piling back into the car, you staring out the window as Wade explained everything.
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“Wait, let me get this straight, so she was your girlfriend but then she died, in your universe?” Wade whispered to Logan, who just grimaced and nodded, downing the rest of the alcohol in this place.
“I find it kinda hard to believe that you, the epitome of I have a grey cloud over my head at all times, and her, the living embodiment of fucking sunshine. She’s like fucking.. princess peach. You’re like bowser.”
Logan scoffed, glancing back at you for a moment. He was right. Despite him not getting the references, he knew what he was trying to say.
He ruined everything he touched, everything he went near. It was better to stay away from you, even if you are from another universe.
They didn’t get the chance to talk about it, because the others began walking in, Logan and wade taking one last glance at you before you all turned to them.
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“You know, princess, you should talk to him.” Wade spoke suddenly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, an innocent gesture.
You furrowed your eyebrows at Wade. “Princess?”
Somehow, in the few hours you knew wade, he was pretty nice, and you two quickly became friends.
“You remind me of like princess peach or something.”
Your eyebrows remained furrowed, face full of confusion.
“Oh my god, you guys don’t have Mario in your universe?”
You shook your head. “No clue what you’re talking about right now.”
“That’s.. tragic…”
“Anyways, what were you saying? Who should I talk to?”
“Mr dark and brooding outside.”
“Logan?”
“You know I’m talking about logan.”
You sighed, shutting your eyes for a moment and nodding, leaning your head back against the couch you sat on, recalling everything about the man.
“I was his friend for years. We met… through the X-men shit or whatever.” You waved it off. “I was… in love with him. I still am. We… eventually started dating, and we both were probably the happiest we could be. Then he had to go be the fuckin’ hero.” You said with a bittersweet laugh, Wade listening intently.
“It’s been 1 year, 3 months, and 11 days.”
“Wow… that is… bringing a tear to my eye.” He flicked the stray tear off his face, shaking his head to himself.
“Well, to me it looks like him and mini him are done talking,” he gently shoved your shoulder with his arm, motioning for you to go outside.
“Alright, alright, I’m going.” You murmured when he kept shoving you to the edge, small smile still on your face.
You shoved your hands into your pockets as you left, he glanced back, ready to tell whoever was coming up to go away, his words getting caught in his throat when he saw you. He turned back around, swallowing down the alcohol in seconds.
You sat next to him, both of you silent until you spoke up.
“Am I dead in your universe?” You asked him, voice almost a whisper.
He nodded, still not turning to look at you.
“Oh. You’re dead in mines.” You said, also turning to look ahead.
“How’d that happen?” He asked you, you were shocked that he was engaging in any conversation. You answered quickly.
“He was ripped in half.” You swallowed, remembering the scream you had let out, the cries you choked out on that day. “Right in front of me. Y-He told me…” you hesitated, turning to him, reaching for the bottle in his hands. He gave it to you, you taking a swig, the alcohol burning down your throat.
“He told me that he loved me, and that we needed to leave. I regret leaving. I regret it all.” You told him quietly, he stared at you now, and you stared at him back, passing him the bottle again.
“She was… stabbed, in the heart.” He told you, voice wavering for a moment. “I was so pissed off,” he chuckled for a moment. “I couldn’t kill them.”
You listened intently to the man.
“I never thought I would see…you again.”
“I know. It’s odd.” You said with a quiet laugh, both of you staring at each other for a moment, just sitting in silence, a collective understanding that maybe, just maybe, you were put in the void by fate.
A second chance. That’s what it was for you both.
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genshins1mpact · 2 years
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#every time my father picks another shitty fight and i get all worked up and bitter i can't help but think...#two wrong don't make a right but my 'daddy issues' & scara#scara's mommy issues are a match made in hell so what it do baybee#i normally go for the vvv sweet or spicy sweet ones yet lately....#im like this close to just aiming for all the (fiction ofc) toxic tropes#bc while i can't say i relate to everything.. scara def reminds me of old me ive tried so hard to overcome sometimes#maybe why i took so long to come around to him.. reminded me of all the ugliness i like to pretend isn't still part of me 💀#and now im like ykw fuck it time to main him- /hj#delete later#just rly needed to vent & i normally keep that on main bc that one's pretty dry lately anyway but.. nowhere else would the refs make sense#tldr; toxic tropee w/ scara time bc im feelin fucked up and it's time for some terrible decisions 🤪🤙🏻#reminds me of that one kaeya fic where he abandoned the mc and their kid and shit went ham til diluc stepped in to help and all that#.....lowkey wanna find/re-read that one again if it's still out there#&maybe some questionable albedo tropes too or even childe idk. again just.. all for bad decisions rn bc life got me all sorts of fucked up#:^))))))#/neg#vent/rant#why do we call them daddy issues like they're our issues and not our inherented problems from our barely functional dick figures-#uhh i mean sperm donors- err fathers#if you thought that was petty .... you didnt even see the parody holiday card i made him w/ a diaper on it 🤡#ok but fr ima shut up now and i better actually remember to delete this one hhhhh
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