#whether you are different or not. whether you are mixed and first generation or not. yknow.
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love at first sight - anton lee
wc; 996 fluff not proofread not edited
thinking of anton as kole from tokyo sims because of that one outfit on 241228… aaaahh….
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anton adjusts his mic and squints his eyes at the busy gangnam streets, pushing his glasses up on the sharp bridge of his nose. he scans the crowd for his next victim—interviewee. this is his (and his cameraman, shotaro’s) routine every weekend for their youtube account ‘seoul sims’ where they film street interviews with strangers. their (or the agency’s) goal is to ask unhinged, weird questions.
initially, it started as a joke (like a social experiment) amongst themselves, among their group of friends—but somehow it blew up when they posted it on their social media. now, they have a growing subscriber count, an inside joke with the ‘fanbase’, and people recognise them mid-interview and in the streets.
you were on your way home from university. your last class was extended for an extra half an hour, thanks to your annoying classmate who didn’t get how to find adjugate in matrix calculations. you just want to get back home, and rest for the weekend.
anton spots you, a lone figure—your shoulders slightly slouched due to the fact that the straps of your bag are digging into your shoulder. you’re anton’s perfect victim—someone who has had a long day and wants nothing more than a hot shower.
shotaro follows anton’s gaze, “she looks like she’s going to kill you.” he murmurs, which gains a soft chuckle from anton. “yeah, but she’s so pretty though.”
without hesitation, anton steps forward, his small dji microphone in his hand.
“hey, do you have a minute for an interview?”
you stop your tracks, looking up to anton with your eyebrows slightly furrowed. what now…? blinking at him and glancing at shotaro who gives you a small smile, you debate whether this is worth your time.
no, obviously��� but today’s friday, you suppose you can lend him 5 minutes of your night.
“...okay,” you nod and mutter.
anton smirks, triumphant. he gives shotaro a thumbs up to indicate that he can start recording. anton clears his throat and stands close beside you, and you notice the apparent height difference.
“great,” anton says, voice smooth and boyish. he brings the mic closer to his mouth first to ask. “okay, what’s a toxic trait about you… that you don’t want to fix?” anton moves his hand to put the mouth in front of your lips.
you let out a soft hum, crossing your arms—obviously in thought. “i guess… academic wise, especially group works, i do most of the work, and then get disappointed when they don’t do anything. but i don’t want them to... because i feel like they can't exceed my expectation.” you purse your lips, nodding.
anton hums in acknowledgement, “so you can’t work with others? ahh, i get it,” he nods, smiling. “what about in general?” he adds.
“hm... i don’t trust men. like at all. i think.” you reply, looking at the camera and smiling. anton frowns for a second, looking at you in amusement. “why? experience from a bad relationship?” he asks, genuinely curious now…
it’s crazy to think a pretty girl like you was fumbled by someone… couldn’t be anton.
you shake your head, putting your hands on your hips. “...no? just stories from my friends, i guess. i’d rather not take the risk and just wait for the universe to give me one.” a proud smile form on your face.
anton laughs, more out of a surprise. just a few minutes ago, you looked like a mere interruption from someone could ascend them to hell—he doesn’t know you’re chill like that. “then does that mean you believe in love at first sight?”
anton steps it up.
you roll your eyes, in which shotaro snorts behind the camera. “no. that’s just attraction mixed with delusion,” you shrug. “oh, and i don’t think it’s genuine.” you add.
his heart does this weird and embarrassing thing where it thumps. you don’t believe in love at first sight.
anton freezes, “why do you think so? you’ve never fallen in love with someone you see on the streets?”
you shake your head, pursing your lips once again out of habit. “no…? i mean, yeah i do find strangers attractive but i wouldn’t call it love at first sight… and i don’t think the relationship that comes out of can lasts long either.”
oh, oh no.
anton’s brain short-circuits the moment the words leave your mouth.
you don’t believe in love at first sight,
but that’s what he’s experiencing right now.
he blinks too fast as he grips his mic in front of you to keep him grounded. “uh-huh,” he nods stiffly, like a fool. you give him a flat look. “you okay?”
he hums, turning his body just slightly to face you. “what should i do then?”
you cock your head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “what do you mean? do what?” you ask, glancing between anton, and the camera pointing at you.
anton leans down to match your height, the hand that holding the mic covering his mouth to whisper��
“what should i do if i’ve fallen with you at first sight?”
you let out a soft gasp and pull away, looking at him with wide eyes. for a moment, neither you, or anton say anything—leaving shotaro confused. “is this staged?” you finally ask, blinking hard.
anton shakes his head, and looks at you with a grin. it feels like it’s just you and anton in the middle of the street. your brain buffering—you open your mouth, close it, narrow your eyes like you’re trying to spot the hidden prank in all of this.
anton simply watches you, head tilted, waiting for an answer.
“so… are you gonna answer, or are you just going to keep staring at me like that?”
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💭 omg im not proud of this AT ALL. ill probably rewrite ;( i just wanna get anton glasses off my mindddddd.....
#riize#riize oneshots#riize x reader#riize fic#riize imagines#anton#anton riize#anton oneshots#anton x reader#anton fic#anton imagines#anton fluff
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#i think i really just need to find more ways to center blackness in my life rn#it is interesting cause it is not really something i have thought of that much?#but now i have spend over a year working and living in veryyyyy white spaces and being literally the only black person in my life#and i think that grates on you after a while???#like. this is not natural!! there is something a bit lonely and isolating about it i guess? and it is just now hitting me#i need black people and black art and black culture in my life!!! i love black people and i love being black#and i think also i sort of have a weird relationship with blackness as the child of african immigrants ?#cause i think there very much is a difference between african american and african + american. yknow#and i think there is a part of me that never really felt like i could be a part of black american culture cause i was different in that way#and now i am at a point in my life where im like. that is dumb!#you are black and you are in america and you are having a black american experience whether you like it or not.#whether you are different or not. whether you are mixed and first generation or not. yknow.#idk. i just feel like i need blackness in my life and i am sort of finally able to start connecting with it in a meaningful way#cause i really need it right now. yknow. anyway#all of yall are probably white and this probably means nothing to you. but whatever. this is my diary.
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There is easy low hanging fruit here, especially about the US and salty tea. And I'm so SO tempted.
But also I'm super in to tea and I'm bored.
The perfect cup of tea is how you want to drink it, and if you do not LIKE tea then drinking it a different way, or a different kind of tea, vastly changes it.
A pinch of salt makes things less bitter, this trick also works with coffee. But other things that affect taste are tempriture, length of time it brews, where the tea was grown, the climate, the soil, and how big the leaves are. Some of the cheapest tea has little more than dust in the tea bag while more expensive teas you will notice have more structure to the leaves.
Tea brewed in colder tempeitures needs longer and creates a different taste. It may require more tea to get the specific flavour you want, and generally it is less bitter for it. Similar thing to spices where if you cook them, use them hot, toast them first, etc, you get a different set of flavours to using them cold.
Like wine, tea can have lots of flavour profiles and colours. Assam for example is very dark, malty, and strong, it can get quite bitter. Ceylon is much lighter. Darjeeling is good with lemon, but Assam is better with milk, in my humble opinion. Lapsang Sushong is very smokey. Earl Grey
Most people will drink a mix. English breakfast is usually a mix of Assam, Ceylon, and Kenyan. Earl Grey is flavoured with bergamot.
White, green, and black tea all come from the same plant, just different parts of it, treated differently. Black tea can take a higher tempriture, but boiling water on green and white tea will scorch the leaves and make it very bitter. Agitating the tea can also have this effect as it releases more tannin.
As a general rule there is a tea for everyone, and a way to drink it that you will enjoy, whether that's hot, cold, mixing it with spices, flavourings, fruit, milk, sugar, lemon, and yes, even a pinch of salt.
I would not, however, recommend tea that has been in the Boston harbour.
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A (possibly) helpful guide to the Nikki-verse for Infinity Nikki Players
❄️Updated December 28th
Although it’s not at all necessary to know the lore of the previous games (Love Nikki, Shining Nikki), here is some info that you might benefit from if you’re joining the fandom with Infinity Nikki!
❄️General Info:
Love Nikki, Shining Nikki, and Infinity Nikki are all stand-alone games with self-contained stories, but they have some commonalities that I will get into later.
Love Nikki (LN) has a 2D art style, and is where many of us "veteran" players began our journey. Shining Nikki (SN) has both 2D and 3D art. Both of these games are stunning, so check them out!
Before Love Nikki, there were two other dress-up games in this series that did not involve being transported into a magical world. They were called NikkiUp2U (released 2012) and Hello Nikki (released around 2016). These games are more obscure, with the latter currently only being available in China, so not much is known about them to international fans.
The developers of the game are Chinese, so expect to get a lot of goodies around Lunar New Year and other major Chinese holidays!
According to Hello Nikki, our main character is around 19 years old. In Shining Nikki, she talks about how she used to go to college before getting transported to Miraland. Her birthday is December 6, which is why Infinity Nikki came out last week and why we got a free outfit (we’ll get a new one every year!)
Nikki's Chinese name is Nuan Nuan, how cute!
Momo claims he’s not a cat, but a member of the “Momo Clan” (LN). He was a little annoying in Love Nikki, but he’s more endearing in later games.
Nikki and Momo are the only recurring characters in the franchise.
The biggest advice I can give as a veteran is: Don't bother with trying to make a visually cohesive outfit for styling battles unless you have a lot of clothing. We've all tried it. It won't work. For now, just layer on everything that has high stats. You're always free to wear your fashionable outfits during regular gameplay, and "glow up" your favorite clothes when you have enough resources, so that you can make better outfits for later battles.
I've seen a lot of people in other places asking about whether the Nikki games will have more androgynous or masculine clothing, and they probably will! It took a while for these clothes to appear in LN and SN, but there are definitely several options out there, from ouji fashion to streetwear to military-style outfits. Read about the seven nations below to find out more.
A lot of people also seem curious about representation for people of color. Unfortunately, the options can be quite limited, as it took a while for textured hair options to appear for players in Love Nikki, and I'm not quite sure about the situation in Shining Nikki. Different cultures are represented in Miraland (as explained below) but they still have their limitations. With Infinity Nikki being more oriented towards an international fanbase than previous games, though, perhaps the developers will be encouraged to branch out more.
❄️Worldbuilding
The world that Nikki has been transported into is called Miraland.
Miraland is composed of seven nations, each with their own distinct fashion style. That means that if you do not like the style of clothes we’ve been seeing so far in Infinity Nikki, do not worry! They’ll have everything eventually.
For some reason, they changed the names of the countries in Infinity Nikki, and I’m not sure why (I’m going to keep mixing them up…). Below, I’ve listed their LN/SN names first, and their Infinity Nikki names second.
The seven nations are:
🎀Lilith/Ninir/Heartcraft Kingdom: In the older games, it was known mostly for fairytale-inspired clothing and lolita fashion, with the occasional “pastoral” suit. It looks like Heartcraft Kingdom in Infinity Nikki has been leaning more into the pastoral aesthetic, but Nonoy’s outfit seems to be in the lolita style. Also, the suits we have been crafting so far for catching bugs and petting the animals is at least lolita-inspired. (People who wear lolita fashion, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I think the Chinese version of this fashion is a lot more loose with the rules than the Japanese version I am more familiar with). This kingdom is always the first to be introduced in these games. Expect drama to follow whenever we get introduced to the royal family of this kingdom…it always happens. Nikki's first friend is always from this kingdom--we started with Bobo in Love Nikki, then Joy in Shining Nikki, and now Nonoy in Infinity Nikki.
🐉Cloud Empire/Lanling Empire: Known for traditional and modern Asian fashion. A vast majority of the fashions are going to be inspired by Chinese fashion, so if you’re a fan of period dramas or xianxia, you’re in luck! Aside from hanfu and qipao, they also usually have some representation of other East Asian cultures, featuring several kimono and the occasional hanbok. (Due to some controversies in Shining Nikki relating to conflicts between China and Korea, however, I’m not sure if the developers will continue to add hanbok in future games). Love Nikki also included some outfits for Chinese ethnic minorities like the Miao, and Vietnamese ao dai if I remember correctly. All games also have at least one Peking Opera costume—it’s like an industry staple. Overall, Cloud Empire is usually the second kingdom to be introduced in the game, so I’m sure we’ll see it pretty soon. Maybe we’ll go along with Tan Youyou, depending on how the story will go.
👠Apple Federation/Starhail Federation: Known for streetwear, high fashion, and casual clothing (like what you’d wear on an average day). I think Dada and Bebe’s outfits would be classified as Apple, even though they live in Heartcraft. Unlike the rural towns we have seen so far, Apple tends to be a very urban, city-based environment, filled with spies and shady businessmen. Nikki's girlfriend, Kimi (from Love Nikki), is also from here.
👑Pigeon Kingdom/Twinmoon Kingdom: Known for European fashions, including fairy costumes, witch/sorcerer outfits, Rococo dresses (with long skirts, compared to the lolita style in Lilith/Ninir/Heartcraft), and anything else you’d expect to see in a Western fantasy or period drama. Funnily enough, there is always at least one scene in the Pigeon Kingdom that has to do with a cathedral, so expect some fashions with gothic and Catholic-inspired imagery as well. Some of the inhabitants who live there are elves and fairies, like Timis. Although most of the ability outfits we have so far look like they're from Lilith/Ninir/Heartcraft, the "purification" outfit strikes me as something more typical of Pigeon.
⚔️North Kingdom/Empire of Light: A cold country best known for winter clothing—heavy scarves, overcoats, and hats—as well as military attire. There is also at least one "ice queen" style suit in every game. If I recall correctly, this kingdom has been having civil wars since Love Nikki, so expect a lot of action in this area. I suspect that Bettina is from here, but I'm not sure yet.
🐪Wasteland/Terra Alliance: The original name of this country sparked a lot of controversy, so I'm glad that they have changed it. This kingdom usually has desert-themed clothing, ancient Greek/Egyptian clothing, clothing inspired by nature, bohemian clothing, South, and Southeast Asian clothing (the cultural representation isn’t always the best, unfortunately…but I am optimistic that Shining Nikki and Infinity Nikki are more culturally sensitive than Love Nikki).
🤖Ruin Island/Whaleport: A mysterious island that features “futuristic” or sci-fi inspired clothing. In previous games, we have seen medical doctors with dubious legitimacy, scientists who experiment on themselves (?) and androids, so I’m curious to see who we’ll meet this time. Many players from the previous games who liked this style have felt that the developers often neglect this kingdom, unfortunately.
❄️Story and gameplay advice
Without spoiling the older games, I can say that, generally...
Most of the story is based on conflicts between different characters and sometimes different kingdoms. These problems, as mentioned before, are solved through styling battles.
Infinity Nikki seems to be going for a cozier vibe. However, both of its predecessors have sometimes gone into dark territories, featuring themes of war, violence, and betrayal. (I may or may not have cried over the death of a certain someone in Love Nikki...)
Therefore, dramatic things could very well happen in Infinity Nikki. I'm not saying that it can't be your comfort game if that is what you are hoping for, as the other games can still also be light, funny, and cozy. I just want to warn more sensitive players who might not be expecting it from a dress-up game.
When I first wrote this guide, I initially thought that the miracle outfits were like the "lifetime suits" of previous games, where crafting them was optional and not necessary to progress through the story. However, this seems not to be the case. Nevertheless, take your time while crafting them--there's no need to rush.
I'm not sure how f2p-friendly Infinity Nikki will be, but I haven't spent anything on either of the other games and I've been able to buy many of the suits I wanted. Just make sure that you budget accordingly and remember that if you want one suit but can't afford it at the time, another suit with a similar aesthetic might come out in the future. Also banners can re-run!
Keep an eye out for redeem codes! These are often posted by the game's social media, and you can get a lot of free stuff.
The fan-favorite kingdoms are usually Lilith/Ninir (Heartcraft) and Cloud (Lanling), followed by Pigeon (Twinmoon) and Apple (Starhail). The other three tend to get neglected, so if you like the sound of those the most, I'm sorry... :(
The last two sections include speculation, trivia, and an explanation of some inside jokes from the other games. Feel free to skip them if needed!
❄️Continuity and Fandom References to Other Nikki Games
Like I said earlier, the Nikki games can all work as standalone games, and the only returning characters are Nikki and Momo.
However, I've added this section to discuss possible theories and connections, as well as catch others up to speed on some of the inside jokes and characters that we Nikki veterans like to talk about.
If you keep hearing names like "Bobo," "Lunar," "Kimi," and "Nidhogg," these are characters from Love Nikki.
Bobo and Lunar are some of the first characters we met in LN. Kimi is the closest character we have to a canon love interest for Nikki. All of them are fan-favorites, so we're hoping to see any references to them in Infinity Nikki as well.
I can't say much about the very controversial and very popular Nidhogg without spoiling LN, but at least you now know where the name is from.
In Love Nikki, there is a "blood curse" that prevents people from using violence. Therefore, people often resolve conflicts by entering styling battles and destroying each other with the power of a good outfit.
Never ask a Love Nikki player what happened in Chapter 15.
Shining Nikki takes place roughly 700 years before Love Nikki, where there is no blood curse (which means certain people have managed to commit certain crimes...). Several SN characters are the ancestors of, or otherwise related to, LN characters.
Nikki veterans often like to make references to Ashley, Lilith (the person), Joy, and Qin Yi. These are all Shining Nikki characters.
So far, we haven't seen such a connection between old games and Infinity Nikki, so a lot of people suspect that this might be an alternate universe. When more about this version of Miraland is known, I might make another post.
❄️My predictions for future updates
Every time we enter a new country in Miraland, we will have new ability outfits to craft to fit the style of the new setting. This is because most of the outfits we have so far look like Lilith/Ninir suits in previous games, with very few influences from other nations.
The next country to be introduced will most likely be Lanling. I originally thought that they'd let us visit Lanling in time for Lunar New Year, but with the scope of the story, I think it may take some more time before that.
The next big update will be around Lunar New Year, where they'll probably hold some five-star banners, give free diamonds as a login event, and make a new short story, if they celebrate the same way as in Shining Nikki. They're probably also going to give us another free suit. (I hope it's Legend of the White Snake themed, since next year is Year of the Snake!)
Then, we'll probably see the equivalent of the Apple Federation, followed by Pigeon Kingdom.
We will get a new version of this stunning dress. It's called the Star Sea and has shown up in every game so far. I'm actually surprised we haven't heard about it in Infinity Nikki yet.
Please let me know if this guide has been useful, and if there's other parts of the games you'd like me to cover!
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Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
In a world where love twists into obsession, Whispers in the Dark offers you fleeting glimpses into the shadows—short, striking stories that capture the subtle, chilling edge of devotion gone astray. These headcanons, drabbles, and snippets bring together yanderes from A Heart Devoured, Forbidden Fruits, and World Ablaze, alongside new faces destined to carve their own place in the recesses of your mind.
This collection is deceptively light, each story crafted for easy reading yet laced with the faint echoes of something far darker. Beneath tender touches lie the barest hints of possessiveness. Behind sweet words linger quiet threats. And in the softest moments, you'll glimpse a world where love binds tighter than chains.
Perfect for casual reading, these stories keep most of the darkness just out of reach, lurking in the shadows of every tender moment. They are whispers of what lies in the deeper, more dangerous corners of Fang Dokja’s other works.
For now, this is where you stay—balanced on the edge of a blade. Will you fall deeper?
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Trigger Warnings (Dead Dove): Contains dark themes, non-consensual content (not as explicit as my long form stories), and depictions of taboo scenarios. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Read the RULES so you are aware of what you're getting into.
♡ A/N #1. I have extremely high tolerance to anything controversial and taboo (e.g. explicit incest, gang rape, gore, vore, murder, bestiality, etc.). Nothing bothers me in reading and writing (except genuine stupidity spanning all forms). If you are looking for light submissive puppy or worshipping yanderes, who would never hurt you. This writing isn't for you, because all my stories have a base line of non-con (whether SFW or NSFW) and sadistic hard doms. The most common and comfortable writing style I have are "red and black flags that will hurt you, and can and may kill you." Yes, even if they are yandere. ♡ A/N #2. I do write different degrees, sometimes vanilla (e.g. most of my Genshin Impact and HSR works), other times erotic horror (e.g. R18 AHD). But, generally, expect non-con in some form. To put it into perspective on my tolerance level, I consider the usual rape, "vanilla rape". If there is no genuine danger of dying or bleeding to death (e.g. cannibalism, vore, necrophilia, edge play like extreme blood play and weapon play), then I classify it as "vanilla rape." Especially if it's just forced penetration or oral.
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Note: Want to make a SHORT request for original yanderes (OC's) or fandom yanderes? Read the Rules and Regulations, first, before requesting. Failure to abide by the rules will have your request ignored and deleted.
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Table of Contents
♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:
♡ ⭐. Author's Personal Favorites. ♡ 🔞. NSFW / extremely explicit themes (non-con, sexual torture, dangerous edge play, degradation, humiliation, BDSM, etc.)
♡ Schedule. The following stories are released or scheduled for release:
Fandom Yanderes
♡ Book 1. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF) : Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 2. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.
Mixed Character Stories
You tried to break up with him… but did you ever really want to? (Chrollo Lucilfer, Johan Liebert, Geto Suguru)
Genshin Impact
Mixed Stories
Humor First, Consequences Later (Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kazuha)
Original Yanderes (OC's)
♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology
Yandere! Author
Headcanons 1 : Fate’s Final Draft (General)
He’s the hero in his own story… and you’re his latest toy.
🔞"You like happy endings? Too bad. I don’t write those."
Yandere! Best Friend
Headcanons 1 : Unspoken Desires (General)
🔞“He says he’d do anything for you. But would you believe him?”
Yandere! DILFs
♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Sugar Daddy, Old Money, Professor, Sponsor
Headcanons 1 : Midas Eyes (General)
Some women play hard to get. You play impossible to afford.
You're not a gold digger. You're an entrepreneur. And business is booming.
🔞Every orgasm comes with a zero at the end of your bank account.
He’s not jealous. He just needs to remind you why no one else can fuck you like he does.
🔞"You wanna act like a whore? Then be one. On your knees. Now."
Yandere! IRL Authors
♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Tumblr Smut Lord, AO3 Angst Demon, Webtoon Cult Leader, Wattpad Menace
Drabbles
You see ‘yandere x reader’ and click before you even register the title.
Yandere! Isekai! Knight
♡ Sub Story. In his eyes, your defiance isn’t strength—it’s foreplay.
Headcanons 1 : Light’s Last Lament (General)
He was a knight of light… until you turned his world dark.
Yandere! Nerd
♡ Sub Story. No one else noticed the quiet boy in the corner, but he’s all you’ll notice now.
Headcanons 1 : Beyond the Data (General)
🔞You’re his project, and he’s determined to get you right.
Yandere! Neurosurgeon
Drabbles
You’re a Pervert, and He’s in Denial.
Your Idea of Flirting? A Box of Body Parts.
“I’d love to get inside your head.” He thought you meant emotionally.
Yandere! Otome Game
♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Crown Prince, Archduke, Supreme Mage, Demon King, War Hero, Master Thief, Enemy Spy, Demon Assassin
Drabbles
How do you escape a yandere harem? Asking for a very distressed friend (me).
How to Turn ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ Into a Very Literal Situation.
"Romance is a garbage genre, but if I have to play, I might as well do it on easy mode."
The love interests were bad. The backup plans are worse.
One of them wants to marry you. The other wants to make sure he never does.
Headcanons 1 : How to Survive a Reverse Harem (You Don’t) (General)
I hate it here.
System: “Would you like to resume the main storyline?” You click ‘No.’ They click ‘Yes.’
Imagine hating me so much that you chase me across lifetimes. Imagine being that obsessed.
Yandere! Royal Guards
Drabbles
Royal Duties: looking pretty, sitting still, watching your guards destroy the kingdom.
You got isekai’d. Now three murder machines think your blank stares are divine wisdom.
Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss
♡ Main Story. 🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."
Headcanons 1 : The Bride of Blood (General)
To him, you're perfect. To you, he's just a mission.
🔞"I don't need your love, I need your submission."
Yandere! Stardom
♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Fanboy, Producer, Rival, Hater
Drabbles
A love letter: from a guy who’s watched every movie, probably knows your underwear size.
Rivals, fanboys, and haters all agree: your fanfic is a masterpiece… in the worst way.
Your most devoted fan writes smut better than published authors.
Capitalism By Day, Cock Worship By Night
AO3 Writer: “I just wanted to write smut.” | Society: “No, you leaked classified info.”
Yandere! Superpowers AU
♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Golden Hero, DILF! CEO, Host Club! King, Mortal Enemy
Drabbles
You were born with the most overpowered ability in existence. You just don’t care.
Yandere! Yan-Apocalypse
♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Boss, Neighbor, Torture Professional, Loner
Drabbles
The perfect Valentine’s present: something personal, thoughtful, and won’t scream anymore.
Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse! Survivor
♡ Sub Story. In the world of the dead, he was the only thing keeping you alive—and tearing you apart.
Headcanons 1 : Flesh and Fetish (General)
In a world where only the strongest survive, he’s the monster you can't escape.
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General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6 , @poopooindamouf , @yandereaficionado , @esther-kpopstan , @iris-arcadia , @hopingtocleaemedschool , @doncellaescarlata , @futuristicxie
❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.
♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:
♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology
♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.
♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.
♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.
♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution
♡ Book 6. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.
♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.
#masterlist#smut#yandere x reader#yandere smut#yandere imagines#smut x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#male yandere#yanderecore#yandere male#yancore#yandere oneshots#yandere headcanons#male yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere male x reader#yandere#obsessive yandere#possessive yandere#tw yandere#yandere blog#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#reader insert#smut writing#shameless smut#smut fanfiction#yandere romance#genshin smut
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Parallels and contrasts between Stan and Bill in the new book and website
Aka miscellaneous thoughts that I'm too lazy to condense into something comprehensible– what you see is what you get folks! (Book stuff, DVD commentaries! The website that came out when I was trying to write this out and is now making me pull my hair out! But in like a good way? That god damn poem!)
not necessarily same coin stuff but I sure am thinking about it.
It’s been said that a large part of Ford’s relationships with Bill, Fiddleford and Dipper was him trying to fill a hole that his estrangement with Stan had left, with none of them clicking in that same way. Dipper was directly compared to Fiddleford as someone who was completely charmed by Ford but is ultimately too anxious of a person to properly deal with the life he's offering nor pull him back when he starts going too far. Meanwhile, Bill is more analogous to Stan but to the extreme with all the doubts that Ford had been fed about Stan (that he was using him, he never grew up, he betrayed him, sabotaged the machine on purpose) turning out to be exactly true with Bill.
The book has Bill saying flat out that Ford wanted the charisma Bill had and then shows that at the peak of Ford's loneliness he was being envious of Stan's charisma, social skills and hands.
[STANLEY COULD HAVE MADE HER LAUGH]
(There’s an irony that Stan always thought that Ford was the popular twin even after doing embarrassing stuff like the kissing machine – if you haven’t seen the Swine Before Time Stan commentary get going, it’s great)
Then Bill swoops in with jokes and endless encouragement and the nickname only Stan used for him, all this in a way tailored for Ford to immediately like him while also reminding him of Stan but "better."
(The show rarely used it but Bill’s use of Sixer is extremely frequent in Journal 3 alone but the comics solidify it as being a pretty personal childhood nickname that kid!Stan used as his default way to call Ford.)
And then you see all of this working because Ford straight up writes Bill’s words using Stan's handwriting (and it turns out that Ford’s capital letter ‘for emphasis/angry’ font in general is the same as Stan’s handwriting too)
(It’s important to note that this is different from all the fonts that Bill uses for himself!)
All of this leads to the deja vu of Ford getting stabbed in the back by someone he was codependent on over a machine he thought was going to change his life for the better
Other things in the book that I’ve seen others point out and noticed myself:
Bill trying to reinforce that Ford would be alone without him, and threatening to tell Stan that Ford never loved him but the first thing Stan does in his letter is tell Ford that he loves him with their childhood code
Stan also only uses ‘Sixer’ in his letter when he normally tends to use a mix of nicknames post-Weirdmaggedon (sure it’s only twice but idk I find it noticeable)
Stan ripped a dollar in half when Bill taunted the reader earlier about how they wouldn’t do that
The promo photo vs the one in the book, Ford’s face being untouched vs Stan’s. While I initially interpreted this as “Bill’s book being a way to torment Ford” and then “him ending up having a meltdown at the thought of Stan”, the new poem kinda gives off an ominous vibe of "him moving on to focus on Stan instead whether he wants to or not"
Ford writing “miss you” in the bro code soon after arriving at Backupsmore which is shown in the Fiddleford photo, then Bill taunting Ford that he misses him
Bill and Stan now have another parallel of losing everything because of a genuine mistake but only Stan was willing to work to make up for it while Bill doubled down and became far far worse
The utter hatred Bill has for Stan being able to win in the end and get back his family
Both of them being institutionalized, with Stan’s mentioned in Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun (which has references to Bill liking Mabel for her chaos, silly straws, etc. Also Dipper basically came up with the Author theory but slightly wrong from theorising about the ink blot like a year before the Ford reveal)
(saturn devouring his son perfectly depicts my emotions when reaching this part of the book)
(EDIT: I was thinking about how Bill giving Ford three days to open the portal striked me as odd for some reason... and then I remembered;
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Stan gave Mabel 3 days for their bet as well. Both of them specifically say 72 hours too.)
And now for the stuff we know from the website:
Bill having severe family issues with daddy issues implied since only his mum is mentioned directly with her trying to comfort him as a kid vs Stan having severe family issues with a definite focus on his dad while his mum was the only one to ask about Stan during that meeting with the principal and her being the only one to show up to his funeral
Both of them wear their dad’s hat despite of all of this
Bill starting a billion cults and has a lawyer called Multilevel Mark, Stan having his Scientology-esque cult being shot down by irl Disney and as a kid having his “technically a pyramid scheme” comic being shot down by a publisher
(I doubt that Stanentology would’ve gotten far but also you can see that a trend that the main way Bill gathers followers is by reading minds and revealing secrets only the victim would know, so let's hope that Disney-let-him-start-a-cult AU Stan never gets mind reading abilities)
Despite how we know how Stan is traumatised as hell from losing Ford, it’s noticeably isn’t referred directly in the Wheel of Shame (like you can’t tell me that the time between pushing Ford into the portal and starting the Shack isn’t as rock bottom as it gets, Bill literally recognises Stan in the first place by thinking about his brand). This probably is because Bill knows that they managed to repair their relationship and he’s fucking pissed about it.
There's further parallels between Stanley and Bill in poem; with lies and redemption and home, and further association with fire for the both of them
“Saw his own dimension burn.
Misses home and can't return.”
“Always dragged his family down.
One mistake, disowned, denied,
Only thing to do was hide.”
“One way out: the open road.
Reinvent, retry, reload.
A girdle, eyepatch, fathers fez,
"I'm a new man!" so he says”
“One way to absolve his crime.
A different form, a different time”
“His big break, it finally came,
Redemption from a life of shame.”
“Says he's happy. He's a liar.”
“Truth is just whatever sells.
When you've lost track of your lies,”
“Lie until you aren’t lying anymore”
Bill in a rotting corpse of a snake oil salesman
This triangle can fit so much self-loathing projection while being a hater
(Also it's funny that Bill is so insistent that Ford had to be the one who came up with the plan
Like look at this
See ‘em cogs turning in Stan’s head while Ford has clearly given up hope)
“How dare he dress up fancy when his jokes suck!!”
There's a parallel of Ford projecting onto Dipper in a way that makes him feel like kindred spirits with his nephew but Stan projects on Dipper in a way that causes him to be more harsh even if he has good intentions. Meanwhile Bill projects onto Ford in a more positive light in comparison to Stan, who in this case Bill wants to rip him and himself into shreds whenever he thinks of the guy. Bill’s shared love for fun/chaos with Mabel (despite them being so different at their core) is why he likes her the most out of all the Pines but that doesn’t stop him from trying to murder her (although I think most folks don’t know about that interview where Alex was like “yeah, I think Bill would’ve burnt Ford alive the moment he got the equation, he’s done playing with his toys at that point”)
Other tidbits:
I find it interesting that the full version of the Wheel of Shame has blue sparks and fades to grey scale (which automatically reminded me of his mindscape)
Stan signing off as Stanley in the book – this ain’t anything huge to chew on I'm just very over emotional about this… but also there’s Bill being called Billy by his family/in the codes
Ford thinking of Stan as childish/someone who never grew up and then we get hit by “yeah Ford always had some part of himself stuck at 18” oof
Ford underestimating Stan’s control over the mindscape, not knowing that he’s able to hide memories in Dreamscaperers, manipulate the layout of his mindscape enough to trick Bill and memory!Stan telling Dipper how to use the mindscape which Bill was genuinely surprised by
I'm headcanoning that Stan doing so bad at that history test is due to some latent bs from what Bill knows which is all crazy conspiracy level stuff
I think it's also intensely funny that all of the Pines promise that they'll murder Bill if they ever see him again and then they immediately turn to Stan and go “now it's your turn to write a letter! :D!!”
(I feel like the main requirement that the Theraprism has for Bill before he can reincarnate is mainly acknowledging his family idk which honestly would fit even better if his soul becomes Stan’s)
EDIT: I FORGOT TO MENTION THE OUROBOROS PASSWORD (or... uh oroborous which is a typo when theres a suspicious amount on the site which may mean somethng but i digress) anyway that leads to the Shack Axolotl lore where it bluntly states that Ford released it despite it showing up 30 years later anyway
and theres....
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#gravity falls#stanley pines#stan pines#bill cipher#ford pines#stanford pines#book of bill spoilers#same coin theory#i guess?#thisisnotawebsitedotcom#stan twins#two sides of the same dollar bill#gf meta
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📂 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞
I don’t think there’s any trigger warnings needed for this. But I just wanna give a heads up that I did not write these in order so there might be some HC that looks rush— I couldn’t elaborate on some, sorry 😢
𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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📄 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Kenji’s past experiences and personality traits shape how he shows affection. Having lived in America for most of his life, his way of showing love blends both American and Japanese elements
In America, people are generally more direct with their affection, and public displays of affection (PDA) are more socially acceptable, or at least not that frowned upon, including hugging, kissing, and hand-holding. While gift giving is important in American culture, it doesn’t carry the same significance as in Japan (cuteeeee).
In contrast, Japanese culture often values subtle and indirect expressions of affection, with intimate gestures usually kept private. Kenji’s approach combines both culture seamlessly
Kenji might express his love in a mix of direct and indirect ways. His approach to PDA might vary depending on his surroundings. As a star baseball player that’s constantly in the public eye, he might save more intimate gestures for private moments. However, he won’t shy away from holding your hand or giving a quick peck on the cheek
Drawing from Japanese culture, Ken will give gifts as a way of showing his love— and given that this man is loaded, they do tend to be pretty extravagant. He might also embrace more grand gestures typical in American culture
Though he appreciates your thoughtful gestures too. Whether it’s leaving small gifts or notes in his duffle bag before a game or making him breakfast, he cherishes these moments with you
Overall, Kenji is grateful that you love all aspect of him, appreciating the different ways he shows his affection and your understanding and acceptance of his unique blend of cultural influences
📄 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I’m glad that there are more people acknowledging the struggles Kenji faced as a Japanese person newly moved to LA. In his first interview with Ami, he stated how he was made fun of for the way he looked and talked, indicating he had a hard time making friends in America. This was a difficult adjustment period for him.
But if you thought that was bad, moving back to Japan presented its own set of challenges. Despite returning to his home country, Ken struggled to fit in with the Japanese crowd. We’ve heard the unwarranted comment from the catcher: “We’re waiting for the Japanese version of this guy,” highlighting his continuing struggle with acceptance.
So it is canon that this man is lonely. Given everything he has been through, you would expect him to have a bitter attitude and be more closed off. However, that’s not the case.
Ken can be sociable when he wants to be. He often masks his internal struggle with his cocky exterior, which might add another difficulty in making friends, but it doesn’t define his character entirely.
Beyond his bravado, Ken has the potential to be a great friend. We’ve seen the way he warms up to Ami later on in the story. He can be fiercely loyal when he wants to be and stand by those he cares about and be there when they need them.
The real question is: will he let you be there for him? How long will it take for him to let you in his psych? This is a complex layer of his character that we’ll explore later on in the alphabet
📄 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Oh, this man definitely needs to be held. At the start of your relationship, Kenji would always be the one holding you close. His arms would wrap around you while you nestled on his chest. He found comfort in the role and didn’t think much about needing to be held himself, until you gently asked him about it
He was reluctant about it at first but eventually he relented, allowing you to hold him close. Feeling your heartbeat near his ear and your arms around him, he quickly grew enamoured and melted into your touch.
It took him a few cuddle sessions for him to adjust to this new dynamic, but once he did, he embraced it fully (all puns intended)
As your relationship deepened, Kenji became more comfortable with initiating cuddle sessions himself. He’s not shy about expressing when he needs to be held
I can see him climbing into bed and nuzzling into your neck, seeking closeness. From being the one who held you, Kenji appreciates the reciprocity of being held by you. Knowing someone cares for him deeply gives him a sense of contentment
📄 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Over time, Kenji’s desire to settle down grows stronger the more he spends time with you. Seeing the stability and fulfilment a settled life can bring, he envisions a secure, private home environment where you both can unwind away from the public eye
Kenji’s cooking skills are basic but heartfelt. He learned to cook out of necessity while living in the America, often preparing meals with his mother as a way of spending quality time together.
He sees cooking together as a way of bonding and creating lasting memories. Despite having an advanced automated delivery system in his home, he often prefers to cook with you, valuing the personal touch. He is open to learning new recipes and techniques, often taking lead in the kitchen
While Kenji prefers to keep his living space organised, he isn’t fond of the labour of cleaning. He relies on his high-tech home and Mina to handle most of the household chores efficiently. He appreciates the comfort and peace that a well-maintained home provides
He utilise the technology in his home to make his life easier, ensuring that everything is kept in order.
📄 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
The way he handles your break up really depends on the situation, but he would always prefer to do it face-to-face for clarity and honesty
If it was you at fault, it might be because he feels like there’s a lack of support from you or because you betrayed his trust.
He may seem resentful on the outside but is shattered on the inside. After you both go your separate ways, you’ll never hear from him again, but you won’t know that he’s holding back from contacting you and forgiving you. However, his pride won’t allow him to.
But if you do something seriously bad, like continuously disrespect him or, worse case-scenario, cheat on him, he’ll be colder towards you. Don’t expect him to give you another chance after that
If he’s the one that’s at fault here, it’ll probably be because he prioritise his career and baseball over your relationship and has unintentionally neglected you. He’ll be upset and pissed off.
He’s not angry at you, but more at himself for not being better. He’s already dealing with his mother’s absence and now he has lost another important person in his life.
But unlike his mothers disappearance, he had control over the situation, and it could’ve been avoided if he changed
In this case, he won’t beg you to stay but rather wish you well for your future and would seek to provide closure
📄 𝐅𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Kenji take’s commitment seriously, especially given everything he has been through while moving the the US and back to Japan, often feeling lonely. Despite his loneliness, he won’t make a move unless he’s fully committed to building a future together, and ensure that you’re both are emotionally ready for the next step
However his career in being in the spotlight and having eyes on him might impact his decision. He has already mastered separating his personal life concealed from the media, but having a partner might spark some unwanted attention and an uproar of press conferences asking about his love life.
Kenji is acutely aware of the intrusive nature of the media. He wants to protect his partner and any future children from unwanted attention. Kenji will find a way to navigate through the chaos and maintain a balance with his career and his personal life
He’ll openly discuss with you how you could balance his career and future together. This includes talking about the timelines for your marriage so it won’t clash with his professional commitment
He values your input when making decisions and wants to ensure that you’re both are on the same page
📄 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Kenji’s gentleness shines through both in action and his protective nature. We’ve seen the way he cradled and soothed Emi at Tokyo Tower after he accidentally fractured her arm, all while trying to keep himself calm after she got tranquillised by the KDF. Despite his strength as Ultraman and his athletic build, he still takes great care not to cause harm.
His physical gentleness extends to his interactions with you. Whether it’s the tender way he holds you or his carefulness during physical activities, Kenji ensures that his doesn’t go overboard with his strength
However, the same can’t be completely said for his emotional gentleness. While he has a good heart, he struggles to find the right words for reassurance. He tries emulating what his mother would say when she comforted him, hoping it would have the same effect on you as it did to him, even as an adult
He draws from his mother’s influence, replicating her warmth and security she provided, hoping it would bring you the same comfort
📄 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Okay, we’ve seen how Kenji was literally running and jumping around with Emi outside of his cabin, you can’t tell me he doesn’t love hugs. After watching that scene, I can definitely see him sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around in his embrace during a moment of celebration or excitement (maybe when he finally wins a championship or when you accept his marriage proposal hehe)
His hugs have a grounding effect, making you feel safe in his arms. Given his athletic build, it’ll be a mixture of firmness and softness. And with his height, his hugs would be a full-body embrace, where you would be completely held
📄 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮.𝐝𝐨𝐜
He’s not shy when it comes to verbally expressing his love to you; however, it was definitely you who said it first before he had the confidence to say it back. As your relationship deepens, he starts to initiate it too and uses other affirmations more freely, especially in private
Phrases like “aishiteru” are used sparingly and are usually reserved for serious committed relationships. He’ll probably use that every once in a while but not always, so he won’t overuse it and it’ll still hold its value
📄 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Kenji doesn’t have a lot of relationship experience. This is the first time he has build an emotional connection with someone (if you don’t count Ami, though I wouldn’t call that a true connection) so if he feels like the relationship is threatened by anyone, it’s only natural for him to feel some jealousy
Not saying that he doesn’t know how to act or handle his emotions— rather, he just doesn’t want to lose you. His relationship with you represents a huge step from his lonesome life, and though he does trust you deeply, there’s still some underlying doubt and insecurities.
Despite his confidence in many areas, when it comes to the matter of heart, he’s still navigating uncharted waters. However, as your relationship strengthens and he becomes more secure with your love, these jealousy moments become less frequent
📄 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
According to the wiki page trivia, Kenji is approximately 6 feet tall (no surprise). So forehead kisses are a given, especially if you are shorter than him. He loves doing it at the most unexpected moments, it’s not too intimate for the public yet still tender.
He adores your kisses too, even if they aren’t as passionate— good luck kisses before his game, before bed, and surprise kisses.
You shared your first kiss at his place, alone together. He appreciated the privacy and having you to himself that night without any watchful eyes. You were the one that held his face and guided him, since he doesn’t do this often, or at least not in this scenario
📄 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Before Emi stumbled upon his life, the thought of having children never really crossed his mind. His initial reluctance and emotional breakdown when he had to take care of Emi shows how unprepared he felt for the role of fatherhood. Despite eventually embracing the role and finding joy in caring for Emi, he still feels a bit iffy about having his own children (biological or adopted)
A human baby is much smaller and more delicate than a kaiju. Human infants are more vulnerable, and this amplifies Ken’s insecurities.
Every new parent will have the typical fear of not being good enough or making mistakes, and I think Ken’s insecurities stem from his past.
Ken’s strained relationship with his father, even though it was eventually resolved, left a lasting impact on him. As a child, he felt abandoned when his father stayed in Japan while he moved to America with his mother.
I feel like the sense of abandonment is a deep-rooted fear he carries into his own potential parenthood. He’s anxious that his double life as a star baseball player and Ultraman might leave his own child to feel the same way he did— confused and abandoned.
However, this might give him determination not to repeat history and ensure his child never feels the same way he did. Furthermore, the thought of his child watching him play, whether through TV or in person, might inspire him to excel in his baseball career.
He hopes that his kid will look up to him with admiration just as Emi did when she watched him practice and supported him
📄 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Unless you’re an early riser, he’s usually up before you, around 5:30-6am. He quietly gets out of bed to avoid disturbing you. His morning starts with either a run or a home workout (That scene of him jump-roping in front of the rising sun will forever be etched in my mind). He probably uses his simulation to replicate the workout scene, just like how he does with the baseball pitch
Once he completes his workout, he showers and changes into his casual clothes. By now, you would definitely be awake. He loves these little moments with you, so he puts effort to make breakfast together instead of relying on Mina to use the automated delivery system— just as he did in the scene when he was trying to feed Emi for the first time
After breakfast, Mina provides his schedule for the day and updates him on any threats, just in case he needs to leave for an unexpected mission. By 8:00 he’ll leave for his baseball training facility
📄 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Every night is not the same when it comes to living with Ultraman. Some nights, Kenji will come home late after another mission, protecting Tokyo. But if he doesn’t need to be out, he’ll be home by 6pm and will greet you with a tired smile
He will take a few minutes to unwind on the couch before he showers and changes to his loungewear. You’re always on your toes, checking for any injuries, and maybe even give him a massage if he needs it
He might rewatch some of his old video with his mom with you and share those special memories. This is significant because you’re one of the important people in his life, and sharing these moments means a lot to him
You’ll have dinner at around 7/8pm, sharing stories about your day. If he did have a good game, be prepared to hear him ramble and boast about it like you didn’t just watch his game on the TV
By 9pm, you both start to wind down, taking it slow and turning off any screens and by 10pm you’ll head to bed, cuddling together
📄 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Kenji won’t open up to you immediately, especially regarding his vulnerabilities about his mother and how he doesn’t fit in. At first he’ll come off with his blasé attitude, brushing off or downplaying sensitive topics to make them seem less significant
But with your efforts, you create a safe space for him to express himself and his fears, something he’s still getting used to. You offer him constant reassurance (and trust me, be patient with him), reminding him that he can lean on you
After several sessions of you healing his wounds from a baseball game or another mission and constantly checking if he’s okay, he slowly warms up to you and grows more comfortable in opening up
You’re gonna make him weak on the knees if you keep on doting him like that and encourage him to take care of himself. He’ll have no choice but to spill everything to you because he knows you won’t think of him differently
📄 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Even before you got together, we’ve all seen how he was with Emi, teaching her baseball and her rehabilitation training after she got injured. He never gave up on her, his patience blooming naturally.
He’s never the type to get easily angry unless you really do something that genuinely pisses him off or constantly doing something that you bothers him
After everything you’ve done for him, it’s only fair that Kenji give you the same level of patience as you do with him. The way you treat him inspired him to be better in your relationship
📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Having an AI assistant that helps him keep track of his schedule and special dates makes it easier to remember anniversaries and other important events. But beyond that, Kenji is quite sentimental and has a keen eye for the little details about you.
He keeps momentous from your time together similar to how he treasures videos of his mother. These trinkets might include small souvenirs from places you’ve always wanted to visit
He uses his keep memory to choose thoughtful gifts that show how well he knows you. He might surprise you with something that reminds you of a special day you shared
Overall, Kenji’s attention to detail means he remembers and cherishes little things about you, making you feel truly seen
📄 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜
One of his favourite memories in your relationship is when you came to watch one of his games live. Although he couldn’t see you in the audience, the thought alone of you being there gave him the boost to perform better. He probably flaunted a little just because he knew you were watching and wanted to impress you
Another memory he loves is when you made him his favourite green tea when he was sick. It sounds mundane, but it felt good having you take care of him and knowing you’d be by his side, even at his lowest. Also you tea-making skills is impeccable
📄 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Kanji’s Ultraman duties include protecting the city from any threats. When the baby kaiju egg hatched in his hands, his protective instincts kicked in when the KDF were actively searching for it. He brought it home without thinking about the consequences (fuck around and find out)— so it’s only natural that he’s protective over you too
There are different ways Ken would be protective over you. He would physically shield you by placing himself between you and the threat. I don’t know if he had any special ‘training’ as Ultraman but he is well-versed in combat and because of his athletic physique, he can handle physical threats effectively
He will probably teach you some basic self-defence techniques or emergency protocols, like having Mina track your location, just in case he’s not around
But even with all of this, he still respects your independence and personal space, the last thing he wants is to smother you. He trusts that you can handle situations on your own but always makes it clear that he’s there when you need him. He just wants to make sure you’re safe
📄 𝐓𝐫𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Having never been in a real relationship before, Kenji finds himself making an effort to make every moment special. Because he’s never had a deep connection with anyone like this, he will tend to ensure his partner feels valued and appreciated. Though he will go overboard as his fear of losing you drives him to go above and beyond
For dates and anniversaries, Kenji will plan every detail, from the venue place to the different activities. He booked a rooftop dinner that gave a view of the city for your first anniversary. His gestures can sometimes be grand and extravagant, as he wants to make you happy and create memorable moments
His dedication and efforts partly stems from people-pleasing tendencies that are shaped by his past loneliness and desire for acceptance. There’s a lingering fear of falling short and being left behind because he didn’t do enough which leads to him overextending himself, even if it is with good intentions (poor Ken…)
However, you remind him that he doesn’t need to do all of that to make you happy; you love him for who he is, not for his grand gestures. It’s an added bonus, but not a foundation of your relationship
While Kenji does struggle to maintain a balance of his grand gestures with the simplicity of his affection, his heart will always be in the right place. Your reminder that his love and presence is enough gives him a peace of mind and helps him enjoy your relationship more organically
📄 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
We all know that at the end of the film, Ken sheds some of his arrogance from the beginning, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be completely free from it immediately. Sometimes his cockiness can get in the way, making him seem dismissive.
It’s not that he’s intentionally doing it, but he’s still learning to break away from his habits, especially if it’s harming your relationship. The last thing he wants is to ruin things because of his old character that he’s trying to fix
Just as mentioned earlier, he has never had this kind of connection with anyone, so he’s also new to being emotionally available. He struggles to communicate his feelings openly since he is used to concealing them, especially from the press and the public.
This might lead to misunderstandings and unaddressed issues. But together, you work through it, and slowly, he warms up to it
📄 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
This man has a whole car collection in his crib so he is definitely loaded. You can’t tell me that he doesn’t spend his money on his outfits, looking the best of the best. Kenji is fully aware of his good looks and he knows how to use them to his full advantage
He takes great pride in his appearance, not only because he’s often in the spotlight as a professional baseball player but also as way of expressing himself and his achievements
We’ve seen his outfits when he was in that interview with Ami— the blazer with the necklace. His confidence shines through in every aspect of his appearance, whether through his sharp outfits, that are perfectly coordinated, to his sleek jewelry collection
In your relationship, you appreciate his confidence and the way he takes care of himself. His vanity and fashion sense become a shared joy, with you sometimes helping him pick out outfits and new accessories. It adds to the charm and closeness to your relationship
All in all, Kenji’s vanity is a blend of his confidence and self-expression— it’s a reflection of his personality and journey.
📄 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Although Kenji does value his independence, and even though he sometimes gets lonely, there are elements in your relationship that make him feel complete and fulfilled. Having a human companionship to come to, rather than just an ai assistant (sorry Mina, still love you), means a lot to him
Your presence provides Kenji the emotional support he craves. After a tough day, he knows you’re always there to listen to him. You both celebrate his victories, whether on the field or in his Ultraman duties. Same goes with challenging times, you both lean on each other for support
Your relationship has contributed to personal growth for both of you. Kenji has learned to be more open and expressive with his feelings. You both encourage each other to be the best version of yourselves
📄 𝐗𝐭𝐫𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Ken is definitely a foodie. While living in America, he found comfort in food and developed an appreciation for various cuisines. Because he struggled to fit in, he often turned to food as a source of solace.
He particularly loves Hispanic and South Asian food (<<self indulging here, can’t tell me he doesn’t like pani puri) for their rich traditions, even if they differ from the Japanese cuisine
When you’re together, Kenji enjoys replicating these dishes and sharing them with you. They hold a special place in his heart. His love for food isn’t just about the different flavours but the memories they bring
📄 𝐘𝐮𝐜𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜
One thing Kenji can’t stand from his partner is someone who always broadcasts everything about their relationship. He would prefer to keep matters like that private, especially when he has an image to maintain. The only reason he shared his mothers message at the end of the film with Ami was because it was a memory he cherished deeply
Speaking of family, after reconciling with his father, Kenji values his relationship with his family immensely. Having a partner who doesn’t respect or get along with his family would be problematic for him
Finally, one of the most important aspects is his passion for baseball and his duties as Ultraman. A partner who belittles or doesn’t support his career or responsibilities would not work out. Ken needs someone who understands and respects his dedication to both his professional and personal missions
📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Okay we all know that it’s canon that Kenji sleeps shirtless :)))) yeah I don’t have to elaborate on that
I feel like he was a heavy sleeper before his Ultraman duties has taken a toll on his sleeping habits, he has to be more alert so he’ll probably become more of a light sleeper
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @clonedrone @f3r4lfr0gg3r @aise-30 @luneariaa @prettygirleli
@trasshy-artist @beabadobeee @doodlenoodleboi @just-me-and-my-world @mitski9328373
@ilovehobi101 @moonjellyfishie @unhingedsillygod @stfuchaase @myrootsgrowdeep
@mitskicain @graham-mckrackers @coinduck @n4muqr
I was surprised to see how many ppl asked to be tagged in this 🥹🥹 hopefully we have the same energy with the nsfw version
#★— ayrus writes#my yoinky sploinky <3#ultraman rising#ultraman x reader#ultraman ken#ultraman#kenji x reader#ken sato#kenji sato#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato x you#kenji sato x y/n#ken sato x reader#ken sato x you#ken sato x y/n
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WHY IZUKU BEING BORN QUIRKLESS IS A POINT FOR DAD FOR ONE:
Now, I'm not saying that I'm a die-hard DFO believer. I think that the theory is fun, and as a joke, I told my friend that if Izuku's father wasn't introduced by the end of the manga then DFO was officially canon by process of elimination. I'm just here to give my opinion about one of the main points people claim disproves DFO: Izuku being born quirkless. I would argue that Izuku being born quirkless, rather than having his quirk stolen as an infant, gives more credibility to the DFO theory.
For starters, when Izuku is told he in the first episode by the doctor (who is obviously AFO's doctor) that he's quirkless and is shown the x-ray of his foot, the doctor says a line (and I'm paraphrasing here) about how "it was virtually unheard of for a child born from two fourth-generation quirk users to be quirkless." The doctor could potentially be lying, but that is very unlikely. Even if he's evil, there's no reason for him to lie in that scenario: Quirks have been around for over a century by then, and lying about something that could be so easily disproven would be moronic.
So, with the belief that he was telling the truth, then it gives more insight into how quirks work. Quirks, in some way, shape, or form, are genetic. It's why quirk marriages were a thing. It's why Katsuki was the unbelievably lucky mix of both his parents' quirks, allowing him to make explosions. It's why Tsuyu's whole family looks froglike. Quirks aren't magically bestowed upon people like Celestia with visions: it's passed down genetically. Quirks are formed from a genetic mutation. This means that based on what the doctor said, quirks are a dominant allele.
To give a basic recap in biology: each gene has two alleles, one from each parent. Genes are what give you your appearance and more: whether your eyes are blue or brown. If you'll be blonde, brunette, or end up as a redhead. If you are more susceptible to different health problems like stroke or Alzheimer's. Alleles, on the other hand, can be either "dominant" or "recessive." "Dominant" alleles need only one parent to transfer it to the child for the trait to show up. "Recessive" alleles, on the other hand, require the allele from both parents to show up in the child. For example, curly hair is dominant over straight hair. If you use 'A' to describe the allele for curly hair and 'a' to describe the allele for straight hair, then it could be looked at as this:
AA= curly hair
Aa= curly hair (dominant allele present)
aa= straight hair (both recessive alleles present)
This means that quirks show up when through a dominant allele. The mention of "fourth-generation quirk users" implies that two quirked parents can give birth to a quirkless individual. That wouldn't be possible if quirks were a recessive allele. Therefore, if both of Izuku's parents were fourth-generation, then it is technically possible for Izuku's ancestors to have passed on the recessive quirklessness through the generations. And Izuku just happened to be the unlucky son of a gun who lost the genetic lottery.
But do you know what this means? It means that it doesn't disprove DFO in the slightest. In fact, having a parent who is a first-generation quirk user adds to the credibility. Canon shows that AFO was the first person who had a quirk. While Izuku is still unlucky on his mother's side of the genetic lottery, having a dad who automatically has a recessive allele makes his quirklessness much more likely.
In conclusion: Izuku being born quirkless just adds to the Dad for one theory. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
#bnha#mha#izuku midoriya#afo#all for one#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#dad for one#dfo theory#mha dfo#long post#long reads
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e.jaegar x shynailtech!reader. mdni. 18+
wc: 1761.
a/n: the girlies wanted another eren fic and i need to clear my drafts so here we are😁
eren had ended up on your doorstep, hands in his pockets and checking his shoes, via a trusty recommendation courtesy of mikasa. being arguably your best and most loyal client, mikasa had notified you about his visit a week before your appointment. but, though you had been expecting the brunette, you hadn’t expected him to be as good-looking as he was; brown locks in a loose bun, grey tech under his black moncler coat and white af1s on his feet. and his good looks weren’t the only thing she had failed to mention, because eren seemingly had a staring problem.
those jades hadn’t left you since eren had crossed the threshold separating your studio and the outside world. it was hard not to notice, because he was practically burning two holes into the top of your head as you worked. yet you wouldn’t mention it, because you assumed it was due to novelty. because, as put-together as he was—well-groomed, and smelling of a knee-weakening herby mix of woody cologne and faint weed—it was very much possible that it was his first time getting his nails done. so it was only natural for him to thoroughly assess his surroundings, as well as the people in it. it just so happened that, unluckily for you, you were the only person in those surroundings.
while most clients would pull their phones out, some even going as far as to put their airpods in while making small conversation, eren found all his entertainment in you; your steady breathing as you poured all your attention into your craft, the way you’d pull back from his fingertips and ask him for his approval, and the way his calloused hands felt in your delicate ones. their grip was firm, yet very gentle, and he felt sick for even imagining how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. just two seconds of quiet was enough time for his brain to generate different versions of one particular image: those nails of yours, that he figured you had done yourself, decorating his hard length—your thumb occasionally swiping over his leaking tip. though just a daydream, the feeling was so visceral that a small shudder travelled down his spine, forcing a deep breath to leave eren’s mouth without his permission. and that would be the thing to make him shake himself out of his reveries before you noticed.
“you’re good at this. i see why mikasa is here all the time”, he'd comment, and your small laugh would be covered by the back of your hand as you muttered out a timid ‘thanks’. and though he tried to fight it, those perverse thoughts he had quelled rose back again because of that simple reaction.
‘curiosity’ was the name of the debauched hand twisting every single one of eren’s thoughts, and its fuel was the question of how far your shy demeanour extended. during the few moments his eyes weren’t locked on you, they would be fixed on a random spot in the room as he entertained the idea of burying your hard work deep inside of you—slender digits moving in and out of you with haste, as his other hand rested on the back of your neck to pull your lips onto his. eren pondered whether or not your hand would still cover your mouth even as he curled his fingers in a way that made your back arch off your work chair. would that coy act still try to override the fact that your walls told him what your abashed mouth refused to say? and, as his arousal made him shift in his chair, eren’s mind couldn’t help but ask him if you'd grab onto his arm as your lips told him it was too much, but your eyes pleaded for him to keep going. luckily for his inquisitive mind, eren would soon find the answers to all his questions.
“but you can take it, can't you ma?”, eren’s breath slid past the shell of your ear as he spoke into it. his words reeked of artificial sympathy, because there was not an ounce of pity in his digits as they pumped in and out of you—a rogue thumb even moving to rub at your clit.
most people would be bothered by someone staring them, many would even ask them what their problem was, but you had remained silent—knees pushed together as you tried to soothe the effects of eren’s glare, underneath the table. even when he’d move a little closer, purposely making sure you were aware that it was you he was looking at and not whatever was being illuminated by the bright led lights on your table, all you’d do was push your head further down to narrow your vision on the task at hand—making eren scoff in amusement.
“y'know...”, he'd finally speak up, to no proper response, “it's okay to come up for air every once in a while”, eren would remark and, from where he was looking, he’d see your eyebrows crease in confusion.
“you ain't gotta be scareda me. eye contact is good. customer service and whatnot”, he’d shrug, and you’d nod back. and that’s all you could do. because everything he was saying was right; his glower had burned through you, leaving behind a cowardly pile of ashes.
“yeah, but i gotta do my job. so i kinda have to look at ‘em”, you’d explain.
“the nails are fine.”, he'd quip, pulling his hand from your grasp to leave you just staring at the table, “and so are you. so lemme see your face”, he'd say, and you'd freeze.
“need me to ask you again, or do i gotta move you myself?”, he'd ask with a sly smirk, that you’d only see when you faced him. once he could meet your shaking eyes, he'd sigh in contentment,
“there she is”, he'd joke.
and now she was about to cum on his fingers so he'd quickly pull them out of you, earning him a look of aroused outrage from yourself.
“think imma do allat and not see how this pussy feel?”, a light chuckle carried eren’s question out of his mouth, and his hands would be preoccupied with pulling his joggers and boxers down. eren wanted all that shyness gone, so he'd get you to take the initiative and move yourself back on him—fucking yourself on his dick, with your hard work sandwiched between your tongue and the roof of your mouth as you sucked all the arousal off his middle fingers. it only took a few minutes, but the shy woman he had met had all but disappeared as soon as eren's dick had entered her, and that amused him. maybe you had been shy because you feared looking at him would lead you to this very position, and you weren't ready to face that reality. but eren had enough courage for the both of you; he had been brave on your behalf, so you could get to the point where his dick was so deep inside you, he was making your legs shake,
“eren, i’m cumming”, you spoke out quietly, and he grabbed your jaw and turned you to face him.
“i can’t hear you. say it again”, he ordered through clenched teeth, and you whined, “just speak up for me, ma”, he kissed your cheek.
“i’m cumming, eren”, you said louder, and he’d smile to himself before holding onto you and fucking into you himself. you came almost instantaneously, your voice the loudest he’d heard you. there weren’t many words you could string together because your brain was too busy trying to will your limbs to keep you upright. but it would be enough encouragement for eren, and it’d move his hips faster as he continued fucking into you.
the feeling of you tightening around him had switched your roles; it had rendered eren speechless, while you were straining your vocal cords to tell him how good he felt—all the while, neglecting the fact that you were about to snap a fingernail with how hard you were gripping onto your work surface. if his curling toes didn’t have him busy fighting a foot cramp, eren might’ve had time to be surprised by the fact that you cut him off as he was about to speak.
“nut in it, eren”, you’d plead with him, and your words must’ve skipped over his ears and gone straight to his dick, because those five syllables would be enough for him to still and fill you with his seed—his lips connected to your neck to barely stifle his moans. there’d be a slight pause as you both stood, catching your breath and recovering from a high that wasn’t ready to come down yet. when you’d reluctantly try to pull away from him, you’d be thankful his fingernails were trimmed because they’d be digging into your hips and, as expected, his eyes were stuck to your face. even with his curiosity quenched, eren wouldn’t stop studying you; the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing regulated again, the stray hairs adhered to your forehead by sweat, and the small pout formed by you holding back your frustrations,
“the fuck’s your problem?”, you’d finally ask, and eren would be taken aback by your curt words.
“what, i can’t look at you?”, he’d ask through a low chuckle, kissing your cheeks and rubbing circles on your exposed hips.
“yeah, but chill—ffuck”, each time you moved off him, eren’s hands would halt you and the friction was tightening the knot in your stomach that he had loosened not too long ago, “i’m not going nowhere, you ain’t gotta stare like that”, your laboured words fought against the moans threatening to escape your mouth.
“you’re just pretty, that’s all”, eren’s hand would once again be on your jaw, stilling your movements so his lips could resume their kissing on your neck and the space behind your ears, while his hips restarted their movements, “but you right; i ain’t done with you, so you not going nowhere til i am.”
©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.
#≡;- ꒰ °nanaminsmooninc. ꒱#aot x black reader#aot x black y/n#eren x black reader#aot eren#eren smut#eren x reader#eren x black fem!reader#eren x you
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꩜ DATING MR. SILVAIR .ᐟ
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Mix of other + our world headcanons (Italics is in the other world’s language!)
For the anon who requested! Vry glad you liked Mr. Crawling’s, thanks for the trust w Silvair :D Feel like I see him a lot.. nicer..? than most hcs I’ve seen and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for mebjfhdsfhjd
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(seen in ending 3) Mr. Silvair loves studying and learning about you, but he still feels bad if you seem upset or get hurt. If or when he doesn’t understand why you’re upset, he’ll ask what he did and apologize. He values learning about these differences in emotions, communication, perspective, etc.
He isn’t naturally physically affectionate, but he doesn’t refuse your requests or affection! He at least pats your head or back, not letting go until you do (unless he’s got things to do). Initially confused, he admits it feels nice when you hug him and that he’s started looking forward to (or at least expecting) it.
^ You can ask him for a forehead kiss or two, even if he doesn’t get why. He understands that it makes you happy and it isn’t like it’s doing him any harm anyway! You’ll probably have to show him what a kiss is though. Will he find it amusing if you become flustered kissing him first? Say “Cute”? Probably.
You and Mr. Chopped become close friends too, sometimes (playfully) gossiping to each other about Mr. Silvair while he’s off doing experiments. There’s a few times Mr. Silvair seems to get jealous by the amount of time you guys spend together, especially if he catches you laughing at Mr. Chopped’s antics. He takes initiative and tries to have one-on-one time with you after that.
Maybe he does tie his hair back and we don’t know it, but I think he’d appreciate the idea if you brought it up! Sometimes it’s a half-up look, a simple ponytail, or you braid it back if you want. As long as it’s out of his face and not difficult to take out, he doesn’t mind.
If you enjoy/are comfortable with it, he might ask for your help with experiments, or… you? Your blood sometimes, at least. But he respects you if you’d rather stay away, even if he’s disappointed for a while.
Both of you spend quite a bit of time walking and talking while trying to find a new room when need be. You start to teach him your language, and he uses a few words and phrases when possible.
Mr. Silvair is more focused on experiments rather than interior decoration. But whether you ask to decorate his place in the other world or show him your home in ours, he grows a fondness for your taste. He even brings home things that remind him of you to see if you'll enjoy them.
^ In the same branch, if you bring something you think he’ll like, he takes good care of it, making sure its always somewhere safe!
Of course, he can’t really do the same studies in our world, or at least get his subjects in the same way. Be warned that he may or may not want to go out and find test subjects… somewhere…?
But on the bright side, it’s literally a whole new world! With so much available to him, at least he has other ways to learn than capturing and cutting things or people up.
Mr. Silvair as a good cook / kitchen helper? Really good at cutting up food, even if he doesn’t want to eat it.
In general he’s pretty good around the house! He remembers chores and keeps his space tidy for both your sakes, helping out wherever he can.
His hair is already pretty, but imagine how nice it’d look and feel after a shower! You keep running your fingers through his hair and he tilts his head. “You like? Pretty?” You nod and ask “Me pretty?” and Mr. Silvair smiles. “Pretty.” (Subconsciously, he starts paying closer attention to your hair or appearance, and how you take care of yourself.)
^ He isn’t particular about scents (other than preferring subtler ones) and will likely use whatever you use unless asked otherwise. Don’t expect him to pick up a hair or skincare routine though.
The first few days especially, Mr. Silvair is so focused on seeing and learning as much as possible, that he’ll likely be up late. He doesn’t really get the whole day and night thing, so you have to tell him that rest is good, and that you’re worried for him. “You worried?” “Yes. We rest.” “...Okay.”
His understanding of love is still different from yours, but (I think) he does care about you, and loves you in his own way! He makes sure you’re safe, helps you when you’re injured, and enjoys spending time with you. I’m not sure if he’d say “I love you” (since he doesn’t comprehend what that really means) but he’d at least reassure you that he likes you and finds you interesting :3
^ Though I’ll say if you’re a romance genre fan in our world, he picks up on the usage of “I love you” in media and if it matches his emotions, he might try it out and see how you react
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#homicipher#homicipher x reader#homicipher fluff#mr. silvair x reader#mr. silvair fluff#mr silvair x reader#mr silvair fluff#me versus punctuation in tumblr tags lmfao#not sure if i went a little overboard eitherfbsbfb#thrfted#thrft it
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Entry 1 - The One About That Weird Ass Cressida Post
This is my first blog entry and, before you start reading, let me just drop in this little disclaimer:
You will find that I bounce between fact and speculation with a mix of sarcasm and [I hope] level-headedness, common sense, and deductive reasoning.
I am a Lukola. Plain and simple. You will not change my mind. It’s an all or nothing thing for me. How I got here, I’m not exactly sure – wait, no I do know how I got here (thank you Nicola and Luke for being so fucking charming).
Of course, I knew what Bridgerton was before I joined the Lukola fandom. In fact, I watched both Seasons 1 and 2, and they were okay. Yes, just okay.
I knew that Season 3 was about Penelope – the only character I found remotely interesting – so when I saw an article on People’s page showing Nicola and her costar holdings hands, I admit I was intrigued.
Were they dating?
Let’s ask Mr. Google and find out.
No, apparently, they were not.
Okay, fine.
I then made the mistake of clicking on a video of Nicola and Luke being interviewed in Australia. And, motherfuck, they were like lightning in a bottle! Luke – being asked if he believed in friends to lovers – responded in a way that left me feeling a bit blindsided. My immediate thought was: “He fell in love with Nicola the moment he met her.” It’s funny how many people I’ve spoken to since who had an identical reaction and, to be honest, Luke’s response won’t make your heart flutter. But, it was something in the way he said it.
Now, let me explain my feelings about love at first sight. Actually, Nicola explained it best when she said lust at first sight is often mistaken for love at first sight. This, I agree with wholeheartedly. To me, love at first sight does not have to be lusty. It can be, sure, but it can also be something entirely different. Maybe it’s a fleeting feeling of recognizing someone in a way you cannot possibly articulate out loud. Maybe it’s a palpitation of your heartbeat. Maybe it feels like home. Regardless, when you experience it, you’ll know it.
That, my friends, is how I got here, and why I [sometimes begrudgingly] stay here – walking alongside this rather long, winding, and often pothole-filled road waiting for two people to admit to the general public – whether it be in a blatant or subtle manner – that they are, in fact, together.
I’ve noticed in this fandom we seem to have three types of people. We have the Sincerely Ignorant, the Conscientiously Stupid, and the Fact Finders.
The Sincerely Ignorant are those that are easily persuaded. They are like sheep following their shepherd. In fact, the Sincerely Ignorant are the most dangerous as they tend to spiral hard and fast – and often without reason.
Next, we have the Conscientiously Stupid. These are the shippers that choose to live in error because it fits their narrative. We are all a bit Conscientiously Stupid but there are those that push an idea so hard that they omit certain truths from their storyboard. The danger here is obvious and their victims always include the Sincerely Ignorant.
Lastly, we have the Fact Finders. The people who track information – key players, side characters, dates, places, statements, etc. These are the people who often find themselves pulling the Sincerely Ignorant out of the water when they spiral, usually due to narratives being pushed by the Conscientiously Stupid.
I am a Fact Finder. Am I perfect? Fuck no, but I do find it fun to collect and analyze information and share it with my fellow Fact Finders. Plus, collecting data helps me maintain some indifference towards the USS Lukola because, let’s face it, this god-damned ship has been blasted by quite a few cannonballs at this point. Some days, I’m surprised we’re still afloat.
Let’s start with Cannonball No. 1. Pap-fucking-smear. June 12/13, 2024. What a fucking shit show. Who shows up to the London premiere? Antonia, Luke’s – I honestly don’t even know what word to use here because I have a lot of different thoughts but out of [a small amount of] respect I will call her – “girl friend” [yes, that space was intentional]. We all know the story, Luke was papped outside his hotel with Antonia on premiere night and he was pegged an overnight dumpster fire.
And, oh my God, the Sincerely Ignorant and Conscientiously Stupid ran with it. I mean, they practically became wild dogs chasing down a fox under the command of Nicola the Huntsman. However, Nicola, almost immediately, came to Luke’s rescue by posting an “in support of” style story to her IG. I’m not saying Nicola wasn’t affected by this mishap. At the very least, the post-premiere PR efforts were dumped squarely on her tiny shoulders. At the worst, she’d had her heart broken.
I never liked the Papsmear pictures. Not because I disliked what they depicted but because there was something “off” about them. Luke didn’t look like a man happy to be out with his lady friend. He looked like a man who had been hoodwinked and whether that was because he knew he’d just made a major PR misstep or because he knew the narrative that would follow was false doesn’t really matter because it’s all speculative. But, what makes me believe it was the latter is what Luke did next.
On June 15, Luke put a story on his IG promoting Season 3. That isn’t all that interesting but the scene it depicted made me do a double take.
Could it be?
No…no way…
But…it was.
It was the scene in Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening.
What in the hot fuck? I mean, really, what in the hot fuck??
Did Luke really just blast out an IG story where his character tells Nicola’s character not to let the Cressida character ruin their evening? Was Cressida…Antonia?
Because that’s fucking loud.
I mean, of all the scenes over four episodes, Luke chose THAT one to promote Pt. 2?
Surely, Antonia or one of her friends or family members would have picked up on this, right? And, told Antonia.
No one is going to convince me that Luke and Antonia were in a blissful relationship after that IG story was posted. Why? Because the deductive reasoning part of my brain tells me Luke chose Nicola straight outta Pap-gate.
The Conscientiously Stupid may [rather they WILL] argue that it was just for PR. Okay, but that would mean Antonia accepted the comparison between Cressida, the Evening-Ruiner, and herself. Take a moment and put yourself in Antonia’s shoes. Would you accept this from your partner? (P.S. If you said yes, you have bigger problems in life than following real people’s relationships.) We know Antonia accepted this role to some extent because we have evidence she attended events with Luke over the summer. So, what the fuck?
In my opinion, Luke’s IG story is a defining moment in the Lukola narrative, but one that was overlooked in June and one that continues to be overlooked – and ignored – now.
Luke’s character is telling Nicola’s character he won’t let another woman ruin their evening.
Let me repeat that again for you: Luke’s character is telling Nicola’s character he won’t let another woman ruin their evening.
Now wrap your head around that.
#lukola#nicola coughlan#luke newton#my opinion#my thoughts#sincerely ignorant#conscientiously stupid#fact finder#speculation only
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Reunion (Terry Silver)
TW- just a general warning for sex-ish things, lowkey body worship; nothing crazy kinky like some of my other content. Very tender and intimate vibes and yeah I got emotional writing it
Summary- You and Terry spend a night together in the bath after a long time apart.
Did I manage to publish the first post-CK Part 2 Terry Silver bathtub fic?? I may make some minor changes to this in the future, but I hope y'all enjoy <3
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Y/N sunk into the foamy water and onto Terry’s lap, settling into his arms. The air around them was heavy with the steam of the bath, the sweet scent of soap and the lit candles dotted around the perimeter of the room, and the smoke smoldering from Terry’s cigar, resting in a nearby ashtray.
After a very stressful and busy few weeks, during which they’d seen a lot less of each other than usual, this was an attempt to make up for it. Both of their schedules had been cleared, starting with the current Friday evening, and extending through the weekend.
It was almost overwhelming to be in his arms again, and it was a relief for him to be able to hold her. For a while, neither one of them said anything, apart from Terry checking with Y/N that the water wasn’t too hot. Intermittently sipping from the drinks Terry had ordered for them, they merely studied each other, as if getting reacquainted, mutually entranced by the way the dim and flickering lighting of the room bounced off the exposed surfaces of the water and reflected patterns on their skin.
Y/N reached out a hand to cradle the side of Terry’s face, and their eyes met as he placed his own hand over hers, expression stoic, but melting into her gentle touch. She toyed almost shyly with the charm at the end of his chain necklace, ghosting her fingertips over his firm chest and the shimmery dusting of white hair.
Most of the time, Terry was not opposed to (and actively encouraged) drawing out the tension and elaborate foreplay, but tonight he needed Y/N as close as he could get her and now. Terry was almost harsh as he took the sides of her face in both his hands, pulling her to him in a passionate kiss. He dove hungrily into her mouth with his tongue, removing his grip on her face to pull her flush against him.
“I go crazy when you’re not around, sweet girl,” he murmured against her ear. As she gasped for air, he realized he’d hardly let her breathe between kisses.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, figuring he’d let her catch her breath while he laved kisses and bites down her neck and collarbone- although it merely took her breath away in a different manner. He froze, awaiting her reply. He needed to hear her say it. “Tell me that you missed me.”
She grinned sweetly, giggling in bemusement. “How couldn’t I, you fool?”
Anyone else spoke like that to him and they would catch hands- knowing this, she only abused the power and teased him occasionally. But, in this particular instance, she could see that this was no teasing matter and that his hunger for her to fulfill his request remained unabated.
She pressed her lips to his gently. “I missed you.”
She kissed one side of his face- “I missed you,” and then the other. “I missed you.”
She kissed the tip of his chin. “I missed you.”
She stretched to brush his forehead with her lips. “I missed you.”
No one had ever treated Terry so softly before- the sensation was so foreign and intense that it was almost painful, churning in the pit of his stomach, mixed with the alternately familiar pulse of desire.
The thoughtful silence was interrupted by the turning of the bathroom doorknob as one of the home’s many employees stepped in. “Mr. Silver, you just got a call about…”
Y/N froze, letting out a surprised cry, even while being halfway concealed under the water with her back to the doorway. Normally, Terry would find this sort of modesty amusing, and he certainly didn’t care whether he was seen in such a state, but for her comfort, he’d made it a rule among the staff to never enter the bathroom or bedroom when he and Y/N were spending time together. Terry threw an arm around her, pressing her to him protectively.
“What the hell are you doing in here? I’ve told you, absolutely no interruptions when she and I are in here together. Get the fuck out, now,” he bellowed, and after a few more sputtered words, the man stumbled over the threshold and closed the door, his rushed footsteps disappearing down the hall.
“That motherfucker’s seen his last day working in this house…” Terry growled as Y/N finally relaxed her shoulders, peeling herself far enough off of him to face him.
“Baby, now don’t do that…” She grabbed the bottle of soap from the side of the bath, spreading some on her hands and rubbing his shoulders soothingly.
After a minute or so of fuming, downing the rest of his drink as he kneaded her hip with his free hand, Terry finally relented, giving into her touch. Though he was still aching to take her fast and rough, curiosity got the better of him and he watched with reverent, rapt fascination as Y/N spread the soap across his shoulders and then his arms, before smoothing it across his chest and delving her fingers under the water to reach his stomach.
She finished the ritual by scooping handfuls of water over his soapy skin, acting completely oblivious to the way his cock had started to prod against her center- apart from the blush that tinted her cheeks. Eager to return the favor, Terry turned her so that he could caress the expanse of her back, tracing the path of her freckles. He coaxed her to lay back against him and began to brush his fingers over her nipples, pinching them just hard enough to draw a whimper from her lips before taking her breasts fully into his hands and kneading them.
One at a time, he extended her arms above her head, dragging his touch up the side of her body from her waist to her wrist as he did so. The gesture left her shaking and panting in his grip, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, maneuvering her forward in his lap again and resourcefully using his empty drink glass to pour water over her hair.
“You know, it’s the fucking tragedy of my life that I found you so late,” he murmured, lathering and then rinsing the shampoo from her hair, and she was grateful that he couldn’t see her eyes glisten. She would likely spend most of her life without him, too. But she also had the rest of her life to contemplate that, and the present moment demanded her attention, lest she regret it forever.
Feeling daring, she reached up to gently tug the ponytail holder from the back of Terry’s head. Though his posture tensed and his jaw stiffened, to her surprise, he did not intervene. He liked to be the one doing the touching; he typically didn’t like to be touched- especially to have his hair messed with. But this had started as an evening of returning favors.
She dampened his silver curls, threading her fingers through them, until the tenderness of the situation finally became too much for him to stand. He lunged at her, pinning her to the side of the tub and caging her in with an arm on either side of her.
“We’d better start making up for lost time.”
#terry silver#thomas ian griffith#cobra kai#cobra kai fanfic#cobra kai fic#creative writing#terry silver x reader#one shot#x reader
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Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night
Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)
summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.
a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so
name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging
this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?
top gun masterlist
You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.
For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.
They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.
Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.
"Settle a bet for us, Junior."
Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.
"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.
Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.
"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"
You didn't even flinch.
"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.
"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."
You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.
You counted to five.
"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.
You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.
And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.
...
It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....
Well.
Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.
Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.
When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.
Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.
"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"
You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.
"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."
He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.
"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."
You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.
"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.
"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"
...
The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.
Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.
You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.
And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-
"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"
You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.
"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.
"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"
You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.
"Whatever you want", you nodded.
It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.
"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.
"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."
His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.
Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.
But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.
Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.
He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.
"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---
There.
At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.
You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.
For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.
You wanted him.
With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.
So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.
You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.
Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.
He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?
You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.
Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.
Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.
That made him grin a little.
"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."
He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.
"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"
You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.
Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.
That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.
He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.
The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.
Which he did.
You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.
You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...
Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.
You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.
You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.
But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.
"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."
He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"
You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.
"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.
And then he pulled away completely.
You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.
No.
Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.
He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.
Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.
You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.
Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.
One, two.
One, two.
You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.
Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.
"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.
"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.
Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-
"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"
He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.
At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...
Fuck!
"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-
"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."
He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.
Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.
His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.
His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.
You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -
More.
He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.
Please.
He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.
Bradley.
You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-
pressure.
His thumb on your clit.
You screamed out his name.
Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.
He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.
You blinked once. Twice.
He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.
"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.
Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.
"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"
A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?
"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."
"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"
He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.
"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.
"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"
A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.
"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"
You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.
"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."
You could feel his grin against your bare skin.
"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.
Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...
An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.
You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.
His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-
He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.
"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.
He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.
"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.
He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.
As always.
"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."
You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.
"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."
And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?
So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.
A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.
"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.
You could have come from that alone.
Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-
"Wait", you panted.
Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.
"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.
"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"
Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...
"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.
You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.
So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).
"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."
Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.
"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.
He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.
"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."
He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.
"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"
You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.
"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."
"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."
You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.
"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."
You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.
"Please, Roos-"
He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-
"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."
He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.
His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.
"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.
You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.
Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.
You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.
You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.
"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-
"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.
You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.
"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.
"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."
His smile deepened, but he didn't move.
"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."
You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.
Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.
You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.
So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.
He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.
"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.
But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.
Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.
Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.
"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.
"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."
He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.
Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.
You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.
You were getting impatient again. You needed more.
Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.
He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.
"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"
You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.
"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."
His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.
"Good girl", he rasped.
You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.
Good girl.
You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.
You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.
You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.
Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.
But you could barely hear them.
You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.
He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.
You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.
You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.
"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."
He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.
"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."
A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?
"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.
He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.
Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.
He thrust back into you in one swift motion.
And you screamed.
You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.
Only touch, only feel him.
The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.
He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.
You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.
His hand closed around your throat at the same time.
You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.
You clenched around him.
Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.
You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.
You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.
You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.
You never wanted this to end.
You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.
A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.
"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.
"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.
He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.
He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.
You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.
You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.
Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.
That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.
Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.
He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.
"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.
You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.
"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.
"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.
"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.
"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."
"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."
"I think of work."
You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.
"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"
Bradley froze.
Bullseye.
"What did you say?"
His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.
"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#top gun x reader#bradley bradshaw smut#top gun#top gun smut#x reader#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader
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Hey, would you be willing to elaborate on that "disappearance of the Anasazi is bs" thing? I've heard something like that before but don't know much about it and would be interested to learn more. Or just like point me to a paper or yt video or something if you don't want to explain right now? Thanks!
I’m traveling to an archaeology conference right now, so this sounds like a great way to spend my airport time! @aurpiment you were wondering too—
“Anasazi” is an archaeological name given to the ancestral Puebloan cultural group in the US Southwest. It’s a Diné (Navajo) term and Modern Pueblos don’t like it and find it othering, so current archaeological best practices is to call this cultural group Ancestral Puebloans. (This is politically complicated because the Diné and Apache nations and groups still prefer “Anasazi” because through cultural interaction, mixing, and migration they also have ancestry among those people and they object to their ancestry being linguistically excluded… demonyms! Politically fraught always!)
However. The difficulties of explaining how descendant communities want to call this group kind of immediately shows: there are descendant communities. The “Anasazi” are Ancestral Purbloans. They are the ancestors of the modern Pueblos.
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The Ancestral Puebloans as a distinct cultural group defined by similar material culture aspects arose 1200-500 BCE, depending on what you consider core cultural traits, and we generally stop talking about “Ancestral Puebloan” around 1450 CE. These were a group of people who lived in northern Arizona and New Mexico, and southern Colorado and Utah—the “Four Corners” region. There were of course different Ancestral Pueblo groups, political organizations, and cultures over the centuries—Chaco Canyon, Mesa Verde, Kayenta, Tusayan, Ancestral Hopi—but they generally share some traits like religious sodality worship in subterranean circular kivas, residence in square adobe roomblocks around central plazas, maize farming practices, and styles of coil-and-scrape constructed black-on-white and black-on-red pottery.
The most famous Ancestral Pueblo/“Anasazi” sites are the Cliff Palace and associated cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde in southwestern Colorado:
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When Europeans/Euro-Americans first found these majestic places, people had not been living in them for centuries. It was a big mystery to them—where did the people who built these cliff cities go? SURELY they were too complex and dramatic to have been built by the Native people who currently lived along the Rio Grande and cited these places as the homes of their ancestors!
So. Like so much else in American history: this mystery is like, 75% racism.
But WHY did the people of Mesa Verde all suddenly leave en masse in the late 1200s, depopulating the whole Mesa Verde region and moving south? That was a mystery. But now—between tree-ring climatological studies, extensive archaeology in this region, and actually listening to Pueblo people’s historical narratives—a lot of it is pretty well-understood. Anything archaeological is inherently, somewhat mysterious, because we have to make our best interpretations of often-scant remaining data, but it’s not some Big Mystery. There was a drought, and people moved south to settle along rivers.
There’s more to it than that—the 21-year drought from 1275-1296 went on unusually long, but it also came at a time when the attempted re-establishment of Chaco cultural organization at the confusingly-and-also-racist-assuption-ly-named Aztec Ruin in northern New Mexico was on the decline anyway, and the political situation of Mesa Verde caused instability and conflict with the extra drought pressures, and archaeologists still strenuously debate whether Athabaskans (ancestors of the Navajo and Apache) moved into the Four Corners region in this time or later, and whether that caused any push-out pressures…
But when I tell people I study Southwest archaeology, I still often hear, “Oh, isn’t it still a big mystery, what happened to the Anasazi? Didn’t they disappear?”
And the answer is. They didn’t disappear. Their descendants simply now live at Hopi, Zuni, Taos, Picuris, Acoma, Cochiti, Isleta, Jemez, Laguna, Nambé, Ohkay Owingeh, Pojoaque, Sandia, San Felipe, Santa Clara, San Ildefonso, Tamaya/Santa Ana, Kewa/Santo Domingo, Tesuque, Zia, and Ysleta del Sur. And/or married into Navajo and Apache groups. The Anasazi/Ancestral Puebloans didn’t disappear any more than you can say the Ancient Romans disappeared because the Coliseum is a ruin that’s not used anymore. And honestly, for the majority of archaeological mysteries about “disappearance,” this is the answer—the socio-political organization changed to something less obvious in the archaeological record, but the people didn’t disappear, they’re still there.
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The corner deli
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Summary: You take a night trip to the corner deli and meet this handsome guy, but shit turns out weird.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader
A/N: This is what happens when I can't sleep. Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡
Word count: 1.8k
The corner deli
And here you are, another Friday night on your own, reading a book you can barely focus on, scrolling mindlessly in between chapters, slouched in your couch and feeling sorry for yourself. Those stupid, evil thoughts starting to whisper some nasty shit in the back of your mind, and you’re letting it happen.
It’s on you, though, because some of your coworkers, the younger ones, offered you to go out with them but you said no. You’re too much of an introvert, but not enough that you don’t feel miserable now, sitting here alone while the city’s buoyant life unfolds without you behind your closed windows. What difference does it make, anyway. It goes on, whether you decide to join or not. No one misses you, so there.
Fuck it. Tonight, you’re gonna eat your feelings. You slip on your jeans and your shoes and go out to the deli on the corner, it’s open all night. You’ll get some Pringles or ice cream, whatever comes first.
You’re walking down an aisle, hesitating between two flavors of Chex Mix, when you catch sight of THE most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
He’s tall. And so fucking broad. His denim shirt is working hard containing the breadth of his solid shoulders, his jeans are tight on his thighs. He’s got a scruffy, patchy beard and strands of brown hair curling at his ears underneath his trucker hat. He’s all sharp profile, solid features, plush lips, oh! his lips are just… generous, and his eyes… god his eyes are dark, deep and soulful. Wait, did you just use the word soulful? Well, he’s that fucking handsome. There’s a stern crease splitting his brow, but it’s tempered by the small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the kind you get from laughing often.
You look down at yourself and… fuck. Your mascara has run off because yeah, maybe you cried a little, earlier. Your hair is dirty, pulled together in a messy bun that looks nothing like those supposedly effortless hairdos thrown at you in Instagram reels. The ones that make you feel unworthy of the air you’re breathing. You're wearing a dirty pair of 501 with your pajama shirt tucked in, there’s no way you're getting anywhere near him, even if you had any self-confidence to boot.
You walk over to the back of the store. Not that it’s a good hiding spot, it’s just where the fridges are. And of course, they’re out of the one ice cream flavor you like. Wow. It really ain’t your day, is it? Craning your neck to scan the empty top shelf, you spot the very last Netflix and Chill’d all the way to the back. Opening the door, you stand on tiptoes, fingers scrambling over the icy shelf to grab it, but you can’t reach that high.
That’s when you feel him. His chest barely brushing at your back. You get a whiff of his scent and you swallow a gasp. He smells like leather and warm skin and laundry and you can’t even move anymore, you just stand there like a Roman statue in a museum, with one arm up. Your gaze follows his arm as it extends toward the shelf, reaching it with ease. As his large hand grabs the last tub, the whole sequence of movements completely effortless and well, graceful.
He takes a step away from you, and your body’s responding again. Your heels meet the ground, and you turn to face him. There’s the promise of a smile curling his lips, fuck he is stupidly handsome, Jesus fucking Christ, are you still breathing? He hands you the tub and all you can think of is how thick his fingers look around it, and how they would feel buried inside you, or wrapped around your throat, and… oh wow. That escalated quickly.
You swallow hard, blinking the filthy thoughts away. There’s something in the way he looks at you, a glimmer in his eyes. You feel… warm. He flexes his jaw to the side, he’s smiling at you, still holding that goddamn ice cream, you gotta say or do something, but your body has bailed on you, yet again.
Eventually, you take the cold tub, careful not to touch his fingers. But he’s not letting go. Your breathing turns shallow, you can barely hold his gaze. Why does he keep looking at you with those soft brown eyes, why is he smiling like that? He can’t possibly be… what? Interested in you? No one can. No one ever is. That’s why you’re in this deli, alone, in the middle of the night, wearing last week's dirty laundry.
Oh. Of course. He’s waiting for you to thank him. Jesus you’re stupid.
“Thanks. You. I mean, thank you.” Oh, great, that went well.
There’s a beat before he releases his grip and lets go of the tub.
“You’re welcome,” he says, and of course, his voice is velvet. Round and husky and low.
There’s an easy confidence about him, like quiet assertiveness, is that a thing? Like he knows his worth, but he doesn’t need to step all over people’s toes to show it.
You’re raking your brain for some smart quip you know will come to you tomorrow morning in the shower, when you hear a commotion at the cashier. Somebody’s shouting orders, a dude holding up something in his hand, pointing it at the employee behind the plexiglass. Holding a fucking handgun, Jesus fuck the place is getting robbed.
Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. There’s pressure around your elbow and you’re yanked down onto the dirty tiles.
The man in the trucker hat is crouching next to you. He holds his index finger pressed to his lips. His face looks different, his jaw tensed, a deep frown darkening his face. His eyes are pitch black, is it even the same man? A minute ago, he looked like the friendly next-door neighbor you’re daydreaming about fucking in the basement laundry room, and now he looks like someone who’s about to shoot you in the face.
“Be quiet,” he mouthes under the noises coming from the front of the store, “stay here, everything’s gonna be ok.”
You don’t want him to leave you here on your own, no matter how threatening he looks, but he’s already moving toward the front and anyway, it’s not like you can move.
Shouldn’t you call 911? He told you to be quiet, what the hell are you supposed to do?
It all happens so fast, and you’re so scared. You’ve never been this scared in your entire life. You hear a thud, followed by a gunshot. You clasp your hand to your mouth, you’re sure you’re gonna die. You hear the sounds of a struggle, a loud, piercing yelp, and another, louder thud. There are a few more noises, fabrics rustling, muffled groans and nothing. Deafening silence.
You can’t feel your legs and your heart is beating in your throat when you finally hear him, the guy in the trucker hat. His voice is firm and his tone commanding as he addresses the deli employee.
“Hey, hey look at me, you’re ok. Can you call 911? Hey! Call 911. You’re ok.”
Your legs won’t carry you. You have to crawl to the front of the store on your hands and knees, and your eyes grow wide at the scene you find there. A tall, young man with a shaved head is lying on the floor, wrists in a zip tie, he’s passed out, or dead, you’re not sure and you don’t wanna know. And anyway, you don’t have time to see more. He’s here, in front of you, the guy in the trucker hat, blocking the view with his massive silhouette, helping you get up and walking you outside.
“You ok?” he asks you.
He’s got one hand in the small of your back, the other one is gripping your arm. They’re warm, and that’s how you register how cold you are. In fact, you’re shivering in the warm city night, teeth chattering and all.
“It’s over, I got you,” he says, cupping your face and you look up at him, nodding, mumbling, “I’m ok, yeah, I’m ok,” trying to focus on his warmth radiating through your cheeks.
When they arrive, the cops instruct you to stay to make a deposition. Uncomfortable doesn’t cut it to describe your state of mind throughout the entire process, but he stands near you the whole time, his shoulder against yours, and you don’t think you could stand straight without it.
Eventually, the place clears up. The perp came to, they handcuffed him and took him away. As he passed near you, you saw a purple bruise blooming on his neck.
You’re told you’re free to go, and there’s really no reason for you to stay.
Except there is.
“So um… you’re a cop, or something?” you ask, looking intently at the fascinating tip of your Van’s, bumping against the curb.
He shakes his head.
“No. US Air Force. I’m a pilot.”
Your head shoots up, mouth falling open into a silent oh.
His smile is so fucking soft you want to kick the curb and break all your toes.
“Well, thank you, anyway. That was really scary. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Now, there really isn’t any reason for you to linger. But he’s not moving, standing tall and broad and solid before you, hands propped on his hips, with that easy confidence about him. And that thing happens again, that thing where he looks at you with those gentle brown eyes and that promise of a smile, and you feel like you’re the center of the goddamn universe.
“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, offering you his hand.
From all the scary shits that went down tonight, this one has got to be the scariest, by far, because you know that if you take his hand, you’re not gonna let go.
You hear your name coming out of your mouth, and it’s too late. You’re done for. Your small hand slides into his larger one, and he gives it a strong squeeze. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to tell you everything you need to know.
And he’s not letting go. And you’re not letting go. You expect fucking fireworks, at this point, but it’s just… right. Like you don’t have to be scared. Like you don’t have to torture yourself anymore with mean-ass questions about how to behave or what to say next. Like you can simply be you, and it’ll be enough.
“So,” he starts, and he’s downright grinning now, a dimpled smile that lights up his entire face, “d’you think we can consider this as our first date?”
****
Part 2
#happy frankie friday#the pilot™️#let me know if anyone's interested in a second date?#also just so you know chapter 5 of tybtm is coming along#I'm at 8k but i needed a break from the angst#and yes i am fully aware I said this chapter would be angst-free thank you very much#frankie morales#frankie morales / fem!reader#francisco catfish morales#frankie morales x fem!reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales / you
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billy lenz hcs (nsfw: mdni)
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billy lenz x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warning: this is set in the mid-to-late 70s, perversion, old school + kinda one-sided phone sex, billy is loud as fuck + a creep + delusional, scent/musk kink, cumming on clothing, copious mentions of cum + precum, using cum as lube, dry humping, extremely dubious consent (somnophilia), masturbation (+ billy edging), oral sex (both giving + receiving, facefucking reeiiving), reader is referred to as 'piggy', p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), ass eating/nondescript tongue fucking (giving + receiving), handjob mention, implied violence (not towards reader), overstimulation (giving + receiving), diy home reno gloryhole, old school cum tribute, foot humping/light cbt??, light bondage (pun), sex toys (for billy), hickeys + biting (giving + receiving)
a/n: kinda edited. happy holidays folks!! this might be ooc but i swear i tried. was gonna add more feet stuff bc it's billy, but decided against it. if you're into that kinda thing, use your imagination - i only mentioned it once and i think that's enough tbh. this one also doesn't have as much literal sexual intercourse as my other hcs (just a heads up) it's been a hot minute since i've watched the film, so the characteristics might be off (i based this on my own interpretation of him and i haven't really read any billy fics recently.. oops) it's a little rushed but i really did try! hope you like it
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
billy got bored of all the sorority piggies and moved, hiding in a mixed residential college dorm building - a creaky colonial-style residence with a spacious attic. the first time he sees you, you're getting dressed to join the other boarders for dinner. billy heard you humming to a radio and peered down between the cracks in the stained floorboard. he's been unhealthily obsessed with you since then <3
billy is an absolute pervert and will sexualize anything and everything you do. from scratching your neck to wandering around your room in your underwear, he's already ogling and muttering how much of a fuckin tease you are
he becomes bolder over time and eventually sneaks into your room at night. after you catch him lurking in the darkness of your room and he doesn't get immediately thrown out, he grows more and more trusting of you. billy becomes accepting of your begrudging attraction to him and he definitely takes full advantage of it :< you reluctantly give him permission to venture into your room if he needs company or an outlet for his pent-up sexual energy - it must be pretty cold and lonely in the attic, what's the harm in cuddling with the lanky man? he's already your dirty secret and at this point, he'd kill for you
his favourite pastime is calling your room's rotary phone during the day and either making mundane conversation with you or having you listen to his rambling as he strokes his cock, not even ten feet away from you. if you start bashfully touching yourself to his babbling or accidentally let slip a moan, tilt your head towards the ceiling so he can see your blissed-out expressions (he definitely cums on the spot)
if you want to get in his good books, put some old cabaret music on your cassette player and give billy a show - whether it's a sensual strip tease or you touching yourself on your bed, billy will be over the moon. as the music ends and the room is quiet - apart from your heavy breathing and thumping heartbeat - little gasps and applause drifts down from your ceiling, making you blush and whisper your thanks
there is not a moment when this man is quiet. in sexual situations, of course he's going to breath loudly, growl and spout obscenities, but even in regular conversation he rambles and expresses his opinions in long, convoluted trains of thought
billy loves it when you're just with him - in reality, you're alone in your room with a creep peering down at you from above, but it's better to let him be delusional. no harm has come of it... yet
don't worry your silly little head about the opaque liquid dripping from ceiling, directly above the bed :< it's either his spit, tears or precum drooling down between the wooden paneling from him constantly edging, the sight of you just existing is enough to turn him on. if it somehow lands on you, billy will cum instantly at the sight of you with his love painting your skin. you look like his perfect piggy, he can't help it :(
he has a habit of dragging his leaking tip over your face while you sleep, smearing his musky precum over your skin for you to smell when you wake. his favourite hobby is staining your skin in his stinky, salty scent - from cumming in your underwear as a way of marking you to wiping off his pre on your lips (as to not stain his boxers), he will make any excuse to clean off his cock on you. if you've been dismissive of him or too caught up in studying, he'll threaten to wake you up by dragging his musty balls over your face. just saying.
whenever he sneaks down to spend time with you skin-to-skin, billy practically goes feral. he's already jittery and constantly rock hard, so expect him to hump you like the degenerate mutt he is. every time you hug or lie next to him, he'll wrap his arms around you and start grinding against you, burying his face in your shoulder. he might not even want to initiate sex!! billy just wants to show his affection and attraction to you :(
billy isn't lying on the phone calls about what he wants to do to you. his inexperience is second to his enthusiasm and need to tongue-fuck you at every given opportunity. your spit-shined, sloppy hole is his favourite view on any day of the week and you bet he's going to make the most of it. make sure to place down a towel under his hips while he goes to town, he tends to leak precum freely and stain your bedsheets whenever you two so much as hug :>
he is a massive drooler, so watch out for the spit puddles on your pillow and mattress after he graces you with a visit. billy is also massive fan of visiting you in the dark - be it night or whenever you have your curtains closed - as he is pretty embarrassed about his constant ahegao face. it's especially prevalent when you touch him just right or suckle on his skin in that perfect spot
billy is constantly babbling about how much you can take his juicy, meaty cock in your tight piggy hole and frantically escalates whenever you pick up the phone. he always describes how he's gonna taste your arousal and fuck you until your legs are shaking, his fingers itching to touch every inch of you. billy's third-person descriptions throw you off a little, but he gets the point across pretty well. his insane squeals and huffs get louder as the lewd, wet rhythm picks up with every passing minute
if someone picks on you, he'll find their phone number and target them with streams of profanities and harassment until they leave you alone and back off. if you come home crying from a bad experience around strangers or tell him of someone who attempted to hurt you, he'll take it upon himself to dispose of them. how else would he rid himself his violent urges? he has to protect you and keep you for himself somehow
expect weird, out of place stains on all of your clothing. from small splatters to large and obvious splotches, every clothing item has remnants of his visits to your dorm room
billy has long-winded phone calls with you, about everything from your life to your interests and favourite things. there's shuffling above you every once in a while, but don't worry about it. it's not possums or raccoons in the insulation, just billy trying to get comfortable - his back aches from craning his neck to see you in, leering from in between the wooden gaps
he will leave you little scribbled notes on crumpled, used envelopes - his barely legible chicken scratch goes on about how pretty you look when he's looking down at you and how fun you are to play with
billy is incredibly touch starved - he'll regift items he finds laying around in exchange for kisses or even a rushed handjob (if he asks nicely enough). the nicer and less dusty the present, the better the reward
his idea of heaven is the feeling of you gagging and choking on his dick, especially the dazed look in your eyes while he fucks your face. the way you catch your breath and let him just stand above you, staring at the mess of cum he made on your face, has his heart pounding in his chest. billy's gaze is one of pure adoration, especially when you have his throbbing cock resting safely in your mouth
prepare to be overstimulated!! he's a fuck machine and will go until he's shooting blanks, or you shove him off to take a break. he is so conditioned from his constant masturbating that he does not get soft after shooting his load - he keeps hissing through the sensitivity as he drills into you like a jackrabbit, hitting your deepest points and sending shivers down your spine. he uses his thick, goopy cum as lube half of the time - he often cums the second he pushes into you, feeling your warmth around him. good thing he has animalistic stamina and strong thighs :>
billy is extremely noisy but will gladly attempt to muffle himself if it means he won't get found out, if it means he gets to stay in the residence - with you - for longer. he's a whiny and breathy moaner though, so never expect complete silence
his pale skin practically glows under the moonlight whenever he pays you a night-time visit. his cock bobs whenever you ghost your fingers over his side and through his hair, precum pooling and dripping down his long length as he gently moves his foreskin back to reveal his flushed - borderline purplish red - cock head. the few freckles scattering his tummy and the wild, wispy brown bush surrounding his base makes him feel pretty insecure about his body - it's not at all like the buff, tan men in the risqué mags or porno tapes. reassure him that he's mouthwateringly attractive, swollen cock and all. the one downside of giving billy head is that his cum tastes very acidic and bitter - invite him to share a healthy lunch of salad and fruit with a healthy jug of water every once in a while, it'll benefit you both
most of the encounters between you two will happen at night or with him partially obscured, but eventually he'll gain enough confidence to emerge from his den and visit during the daytime
he makes a glory hole at the top of the stairs that lead to the attic - he knocks out a section of paneling that's hidden next to a cabinet, perfect for you to hide behind while kneeling :< he's not that considerate though, he still forces you to be vigilant while he makes you choke on his length without a care - you can't give him away, not in a compromising position like this!!
he sneaks into your bathroom and showers with your hair product and soap whenever he feels lonely. he's too musty to change his clothing and wear some of yours, but he's not above nicking your clothes detergent whenever your scent starts fading away.
billy is also in the habit of hiding in the shower behind the partially see-through curtain, lurking - his presence makes you hum in greeting as you wash your hands in the sink. he might stick his hard cock out from behind the curtain and giggle as it bobs just in your line of sight. if you decide to glance up at the tall silhouette while you take him down your throat, you'll see his hands scrunching the material into a wrinkled mess. at least you have billy's musty cardigan to kneel on, bruised knees are never fun
if you fall asleep while studying on your desk, he'll scuttle down and shift you ontop of the bed - he can't have his object of affection feeling under the weather. strained muscles and unnecessary soreness are gonna get in the way of your fun time with billy!
you might think you're going insane from time to time... don't worry though. the giggles, shuffling and faint moans echoing in your head are real, he's living directly above you after all. nothing to worry about :<
he is a little bit of a hoarder and definitely a thief - from strands of your hair on the floor to dirty tissues that landed in the bin after a masturbation session, it all ends up in billy's little gross pile of stuff in the corner of his lair
billy is creepy and definitely sneaks into your room at night to jerk off furiously in the corner - he loves looming in the shadows as his tip leaks like a broken faucet, groaning at the peaceful sight of you sleeping without a care. if he's feeling adventurous, he'll use your limp hand to hold his balls as he drips all over your mattress and strokes his length
whenever he's bored of the stashed porn mags in the attic, billy watches you below as you study and his hand wanders south. he uses your speed of writing as the metronome of his strokes and tries his best to not fuck his hand at the thought of giving you some 'under the desk support'
while you're out in classes, he beelines towards your bed and takes a nap in your bed, cuddling with one of your plushies. you may have caught him mid-snooze more than once, but you'd best not bring up how cute the stinky man looks or else he'll start sulking
billy guilt trips you into paying more attention to him - he needs someone to talk to plus he can fuck you too, what else could you possibly want? you see how needy he is firsthand when you return after class, walking in on him pinching his nipples as he bucks his hips and humps into your pillow. his desperate whines of your name tug at your heartstrings as you coo at his pathetic display. he really does get lonely though - billy likes imagining how it would feel to be hugged by you whenever he's feeling chilly upstairs
he will sit on your face as he gets off on demeaning you, sensually running his fingers over his cockhead as he rests his tight balls on the bridge of your nose. he has a knack for degrading you but isn't able to resist praising you, babbling about how good you're being for him and how hard he is because of you
he scatters polaroid cum tributes around your room whenever he visits without you noticing. all of the photos he took of you are eerie and at angles that could only be explained by him tailing you throughout your day-to-daylife. don't feel paranoid though, he's only wanting to ensure your safety! unfortunately, the evidence of his lurking was too tempting for him... it's now permanently stained with evidence of his lust. hope you like the present
billy asks you to buy him a vibrator for christmas! why- what do you mean no? but he gets lonely, he'll need something to keep him company. would you change your mind if he says you can use it on him too? :>
he cleans up your room to the best of his ability! he's not all altruistic though... billy steals your chewed pencils, sniffs your dirty underwear and swaps out your sweaty pillowcases to cuddle with and huff your scent from later
billy lenz is actually gross. he will want to bend over you and bury his nose into your chest, armpits and crotch after a long day. your sweat is such a turn-on for him, his cock swelling the moment you swing open your dorm door with a tired groan
if he wants to be more submissive to you, he'll beg you to help him cum by lightly grinding your foot into his throbbing cock. billy's bulge may strain against his sweatpants and tears may roll down his face, but the damp patch betrays his filthy arousal as it grows progressively bigger. the moment you comment on his enjoyment, he flushes deep red and his masochistic grin betrays how drunk he is on the pressure of your foot
tie him to a chair with old christmas lights he found in the attic, the glass bulb clinking together as he shivers at your teasing - slowly suck his cock and trail up to his tip with your tongue, edging him to the point of tears. he drools as you squeeze his cock slightly in his hand and scold him for being such a pervert
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but billy never fails to groan how amazing you feel as you clench around him
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'juicy piggy cock' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
if you roll onto your back throughout a night when billy pays you a visit, he'll palm and kiss at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each passing moment. his guilty pleasure is dragging his tongue along your length and hearing your bleary whimpers
find two dildos that have a similar size and shape as you! he is pretty inexperienced in same-sex relationships, so why not help him practice? it'll be much easier for him to train his hole and gag reflex if he can practice on your size, even when you're away from your dorm :>
billy gets extremely jealous whenever you speak to anyone ever :( if he catches you planning a date or even talking to someone else, he'll whine a lot more than normal and sniffle down the line the next time you pick up the receiver. he might be able to pass it off as his normal attitude and shenanigans, but you know him better than he gives you credit for. invite him down to your room, cuddle him for a bit and fuck him into the mattress to show how much you care - whisper about how good he's being for you and mark up his neck with love bites
tangle your fingers in his hair as you kiss down his jaw, guiding him to sit in your lap as you shift in your seat and buck up into him. watch as his eyes roll and his tongue lolls as you hit his prostate over and over, fucking him dumb so easily
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him down to the balls
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy cunt' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
billy cums all over your pussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark his territory your whole body
he wants you to sit on his face!! billy will eat you out like no tomorrow, throbbing and leaking uncontrollably into your sheets. he slurps and sucks on your clit until you see stars - despite his inexperience, his vigor and obvious enjoyment makes up for his sloppy movements
he squishes and squeezes at your tits as he sits crisscross on your mattress, staring in fascination. his excitement visibly increases at every mewl and whine from your mouth, jolting at your louder noises and chuckling at your breathless gasps. the softness of your breasts always catches him off-guard, his constant need to cum all over your chest becoming more and more obvious
the lewd sounds of him stroking his cock and you fingering your cunt are all the more prevalent whenever you're lying down together and he's spooning you. he's panting into your hair, wrapping his free arm around your waist from behind as you circle you clit firmly. the obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout your room end up on replay in both your heads for the next day
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him to the hilt
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'wet piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
billy cums all over your boypussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark your skin up as well. he's a notorious biter and will not shy away from leaving bruises to ward off competition
he loves cornering you against your wall in the middle of the night - everything from the feeling of your arousal coating onto his fingers as he jerks you off, to the sharpness of your teeth biting into his shoulders as you muffle yourself. his favourite part is feeling your muscles slowly relaxing as you come down from your high
he suckles on your tcock as you leak down and coat his chin in your cum. billy will be a menace and run his cockhead against your hole and use your precum to jack off, coating your heated skin in his thick spend
he loves hearing how ruined the both of you become whenever you fuck yourself on his cock - he has the perfect vantage point to watch you bounce on his lap as he digs his fingers into your waist, sloppy sounds echoing around the room as his balls slap against your ass. billy's panting whimpers sound so pretty as he grits his teeth whenever you clench on his length
_ _ _ _ _
mtf hcs
he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you clench around him. he has a habit of burying his nose in your hair whenever he bottoms out, needing to be drowned in your scent and the feeling of your pussy
if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling
if you roll onto your back throughout the night, he mouths at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each throb against his lips
he will swipe a lipstick or two for you - the sight of you with it smeared all over your face after a rough facefucking makes him giggle with glee, the pigment staining the base of his cock. he thinks you're all the more beautiful when he gets to ruin your makeup after you're all done up for him
billy latches onto your tits whenever you're shirtless - he loves leaving teeth marks and bruises around your nipples, practically marking his territory. he especially loves when the purple love-bites peek out over the cup of your bra :>
he loves bending you over your bed whenever he fucks you, your face buried in your pillow to muffle you loud noises as your girlcock dribbles all over your sheets. it's not like billy isn't making a mess either - his drool flying everywhere as he fucks you in a frenzy, balls slapping against the back of your pretty thighs. no matter how much or how deep he cums in you, it always dribbles back out of you and stains your bedding with the drying droplets
_ _ _ _ _
if modern day billy lenz had a ph account and made videos of him masturbating in the dark (while making his weird noises and shit), he would have a solid fanbase of weirdos who find it creepy and hot. i'm saying this as someone who would watch him religiously btw :>
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
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