#Power bank jump start | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreaming-medium · 9 months ago

Text

Language Barrier

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7K

Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers

Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.

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A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.

‘How are you?’ - English

‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean

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Luck was not on your side today.

It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.

Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.

Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.

Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.

“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”

You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.

It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!

Where is it? Where is it?

There!

You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.

A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.

The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.

It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.

Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.

After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.

Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.

Is that a 6 or an 8?

Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–

There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.

You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.

His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.

The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.

You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.

The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.

Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?

Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.

Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.

There’s a beat.

You try again, really putting your back into it this time.

“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.

“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”

You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”

The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”

You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.

Another series of blinks are exchanged.

“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.

You nod. “No… no Korean.”

A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.

“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.

“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.

“No.”

Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.

“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.

The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.

Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?

After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.

“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.

“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”

“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.

A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.

Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.

If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.

He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.

But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.

The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.

“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.

Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”

“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.

You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.

All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.

Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”

Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.

The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.

Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.

He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.

“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.

“A car accident?”

He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.

“Car accident,” he says in Korean.

“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.

Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.

“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.

The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.

You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.

The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.

He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!

Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.

The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.

After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.

‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.

The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.

“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.

Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.

‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’

Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.

‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’

A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.

‘Try learning Korean.’

Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.

‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’

Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”

He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.

‘You don’t have an umbrella.’

Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.

But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.

You type a message back to Minho.

‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’

He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.

“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.

Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.

Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.

You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”

A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?

No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.

Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.

Back to the app.

The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.

‘What do you do for work?’

Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.

So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.

‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’

Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.

‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’

A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.

‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’

Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.

Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.

He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.

Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.

You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.

Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.

‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’

His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.

“You are welcome,” he answers in English.

His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.

After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.

‘Your turn. What do you do?’

Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.

His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.

You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.

He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?

Eventually, he turns the phone around.

‘I’m an idol.’

“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”

Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”

The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.

You type in your phone.

‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’

With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.

‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’

Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’

“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.

‘When do you go back to America?’

‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’

A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.

You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.

‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’

Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.

‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’

Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.

‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’

Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.

‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’

‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’

Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.

Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.

Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.

The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.

In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.

You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.

“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.

Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.

A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.

“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.

Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.

“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.

An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.

Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.

A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.

“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”

He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.

“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?

A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”

“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.

Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.

He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.

“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”

“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.

“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”

“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”

A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.

“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.

“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.

Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”

A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.

Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.

He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.

Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.

Is this really happening?

A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.

He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–

He’s shrugging off his hoodie.

Oh, he thinks you're cold.

Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.

Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.

It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.

Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.

“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.

Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.

There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.

It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.

‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’

Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.

‘I’m usually not.’

You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.

‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’

The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.

A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.

Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.

You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.

There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.

Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,

“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.

Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.

But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.

How is this even possible?

You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.

Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.

His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.

Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.

Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.

The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.

His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.

A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.

Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.

Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.

Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.

His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.

Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.

The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.

“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.

“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.

More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.

Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.

His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.

“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”

Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”

His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.

There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.

Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.

Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.

Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.

His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.

Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.

Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.

Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.

In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.

Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.

“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.

“No,” he says firmly.

“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.

“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.

“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.

“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.

You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.

“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”

“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.

Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.

“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”

He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.

With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.

“Come,” he says confidently.

“Lead way.”

#Lee know x reader #Lee Minho x reader #Skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #Lee know x y/n #Lee Minho x y/n #lee know reader insert #Skz x y/n #Lee know fluff #Skz fluff

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sooniebby · 2 months ago

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Recently into the idea of reader getting eaten out on a motorcycle by a racer. Smut Drabble. Little plot then straight to smut.

Bottom Trans male reader . Use of cunt/pussy,clit, cock, and hole. Characters name are Thai (in case you’re confused). P’(name) is for someone older, Nong (Name) is for someone younger.

“Are we supposed to be here?”

“Shh, just act natural.”

You were dumb, but that’s something your friend, Som, had gotten used to. He whispered a quick prayer to Phra Siam Devadhiraj before following you into the illegal street race. Whoever was holding the race had to have been a man of power since it was being held right in Bangkok, near to a highway.

The highway was even closed down for the specific race. Som wondered if he should pray again as he watched you slip past a group of bodyguards.

“I still don’t get why you needed to come here…” Som whispered, shaking his head.

You grinned. “Listen, P’Krist mentioned something about this yesterday!”

“You managed to talk to him?”

You were silent as you stared at Som with a straight face.

“You spied on him again, huh?”

“Anyway!” You started, standing on your toes as you began looking around. “He has to be around here… maybe he’s a racer?!” You giggled, imaging your crush in a racer suit.

“Or he could just be a spectator…”

“Nah, P’Krist is too cool for that.”

“This still doesn’t make any sense. You aren’t gonna speak to him anyway. You turn into a deer in headlights when he even walks near you.”

“It’s different this time! He’ll see me,” you pointed at your outfit, dressed in a tight leather pants and with a see-through tank top. “Then he’ll jump my bones and I’ll finally fulfill my dream of semi-public sex.” You nodded to yourself, a perfect plan.

“You’re insane.”

“Don’t cramp on my style, Som. You’re just jealous I’ll be having kinky sex soon while you’re stuck with plain vanilla bean sex!”

Som sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I think you should just be realistic, for your own good.” He did start looking around for Krist, because he wanted you to be happy either way. “I don’t think P’Krist is as cool as you make him out to be.”

“You just don’t get.” You simply muttered.

“Mhm,” Som pulled out his phone, seeing his boyfriend was calling him. “Hold on. Bank is calling me.”

“Oh tell him I said hey!”

“Hey, hey, stay where I can see you!” Som immediately called out, ignoring your pout as he answered the phone. “Bank? Why aren’t you studying?”

You yawned, unable to stop yourself from shivering as you curled into yourself.

“Are you new here?”

You glanced over and came face to face with a racer. Judging by the fact he was still wearing his helmet for some reason. He was dressed surprisingly casual, just a leather jacket, blue jeans, and a white beater.

“Huh?” You whispered, “how could you tell?”

A muffle chuckle left his lips as he tilted his head. “Well, I’d remember a cute face like yours.”

Your brain stopped as you blinked multiple times. That only got another laugh from the racer as he pointed at Som not too far from you.

“That your boyfriend?”

“Ah! No! A friend. Uh, he’s talking to his boyfriend right now.” You managed to say, glancing back at Som. He looked engrossed in his conversation with Bank.

The racer hummed. “I’m going to race in a hour, I thought I could get some encouragement from a special someone.”

You raised an eyebrow, suddenly shivering again. “What type of encouragement?”

He reached a gloved hand up to his helmet, his movement slow as he pushed it upward. You gulped as his face was revealed, a Cheshire like smirk already on his lips. His eyes reminded you of a tiger, his gaze set only on you as he leaned down.

“You know what type, only reason why you’d wear something like that here.” His free hand tugged at your shirt as you flinched from his touch. The cool material from his gloves felt like it burned.

Look, you’ve been a virgin for too long now. You haven’t even held hands with someone romantically. Sure, Som would certainly scold you later but this guy was hot.

Besides, Krist shouldn’t be bothered if you dated around, he had multiple partners before you.

The racer seemed to immediately know your thought process as his grin widen, holding his hand out. You hesitated just a for a moment as you glanced back at Som. He was still talking to Bank. He has your phone location, it’ll be fine.

You grabbed the racer’s hand and gave him a shy nod. He squeezed your hand, almost noticing your nerves as he led you just a few feet away from Som.

It was behind a big truck where a motorcycle sat. You wished you knew more about motorcycles to properly appreciate it but it still looked fancy in your eyes. The racer placed his helmet on the handle as he patted the seat.

“Sit.”

You blinked, glancing up at him. “Here?”

“Mhm, sit.” He stepped back, waiting for you. You finally took in his facial features more, messy black hair, full eyebrows and a long nose. Hm…. You pushed the thought of riding his nose out your head.

Wait.

“Ah,” you whispered, suddenly remembering what you weren’t packing in your pants. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.. but I don’t have, y’know, a dick.”

The racer shrugged. “Okay.”

“That’s okay?”

“I don’t care. You’re still a man. Sit down already, I only have thirty minutes.”

You glanced around before simply sitting down. The racer smirked, shaking his head. He pushed your legs apart as his he gripped the belt hoop of your pants.

“You were supposed to take off your pants first, Nangfa.” He popped open your button, pulling them down. You couldn’t help but giggle at the nickname. As his free hand gripped your waist to bring you off the bike just a bit, allowing the pangs to slide down.

“Hm, maybe your shoes as well.” He suddenly said, pulling off your sneakers once he noticed the pants got stuck. You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling less nervous. Once you were finally free from your shoes and pants, he gazed down between your legs.

You felt your cheeks flush as you fought the urge to close your legs.

“Black panties?”

“I couldn’t wear boxers, they were uncomfortable with the pants.” You muttered, already remembering the battle it took to even pull the pants up. Gosh that was gonna be a pain in the ass after this.

Your body flinched when he touched your inner thigh. He gazed up at you and smirked, “you can always tell me to stop, do you have a safe word?”

“Can’t I just say stop?” You whispered.

“That works.” He hummed, zeroing in on your underwear. You bit your lip as he gripped the soft material, slowly pulling them down your thighs.

You leaned back on the bike, the truck acting as a barrier and something to hold you up. The racer tugged off his gloves and carelessly tossed them to ground, his now free hands gripping your thighs. You shrieked as he pulled you closer, your legs now resting on his shoulders.

“It’s unfair I only have less than thirty minutes. That’s not enough to worship this,” he leaned in, a tiny peck on your clit. Your hips stuttered as he brought his hand down, prying your pussy open.

He wasted no more time as he immediately dived in, his lips circling around your clit. A silent scream escaped you as you gripped at the bike seat. His tongue slipped between your folds as his finger began to rub your clit in a painstakingly slow motion.

Your toes curled as you bit into your fist, legs only able to clamp close on his head. He made no attempt to slow down or even let you breathe, bringing his hand down to slip in two fingers.

“You can be loud,” he whispered, pressing wet kisses on your lower stomach, his fingers thrusting into your cunt. “They won’t hear you over the screaming.” As if on cue, the spectators began screaming, the race from before must be coming to an end.

The racer immediately took advantage of that as he suckled your cock, his fingers picking up the pace as they stretched your hole. You couldn’t hold back as you let out a scream. He was right, your cries blended in with the crowd quite easily.

“Can’t… can’t do it…” you whined before your eyes closed, your back arching as a silent whine left your lips. The racer didn’t stop as he quickly pressed his lips on your cunt, his thumb rubbing your clit. A whimper escaped you just as your legs shook, your pussy clamped down on his fingers before it began to squirt.

He didn’t pull away, still sucking you as you reached your orgasm. It wasn’t until you began to whine from the overstimulation that he finally pulled away. His lower half of his face was drenched as he nonchalantly wiped it clean with his shirt.

“Nangfa,” he said, delivering a teasing slap to your cunt as you cried out in shock, quickly clapping your legs close. “Relax. Call your friend over to help you, I have to go get ready.” He grabbed his gloves and helmet, giving you a grin.

“Ngh… what about you..?” You whispered, realizing that he hadn’t even gotten underdressed at all. It almost looked like he didn’t do anything.

“I’m good.” He simply shrugged. “This was just a good luck ritual, though….” He leaned down, his nose bumping into yours. “I think you’re my favorite yet—you taste sweet. Perfect fuel.”

“Fuel?” You blinked, finally starting to gain the motor function to stand up. Your thighs were wet from the cum that managed to escape his mouth. And much to your fear, the seat was wet as well.

“Yea,” he slipped on his gloves, “better than any other cock I’ve ever sucked. You must eat a lot of fruits.” The sound of a cell phone caught your attention as he pulled it out from his pocket. “Oop, that’s the big boss. Better go, Nangfa.”

Just as he made the attempt to move you suddenly realized he was leaving his bike.

“Hey!! You’re forgetting your bike!” You called out.

He glanced back and smirked, “it’s not my bike, it’s Krist’s. See you, Nong (Name).”

You blinked. Wait how’d he know your name?

And what did he mean this was Krist’s bike…? Did he…?

Before you could fully panic any further, you finally noticed your phone had been blowing up. You quickly kneeled down and pulled out your phone from the pants pocket. You silently prayed for your safety before answering the call.

“(Name) Opas Phanuwat, what do you think ‘stay where I can see you’ means?”

I think I want to make this a full fic, but I’ll probably have to do a cis male reader for that… people get weird when it comes trans male reader, fml .

Nangfa นางฟ้า — means angel

Taglist: @the-ultimate-librarian @star-3214 @castocipher @secretivemessenger @mooncarvers-world @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @tomoeroi @love-kha1 @remdayz @ofclyde @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @anchoredphoenix @m00n-b4b3 @ning1e @roi-henri-xxii @chill-guy-but-cooler @rhetorical-conscience

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

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cheralith · 3 months ago

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feat. mikage reo || wc: 1.0k contains: gn!reader, no pronouns used, implications of sex but nothing explicit, angst w/ some comfort, time-skip so aged-up characters

you break reo’s heart at seventeen not because you want to, but because you have to.

his parents find a singular condom wrapper in his bedroom trashcan and run after you like madmen. venom dripping as they tell you to lay your hands off their son if you know what’s best for you whilst slide you over a hefty stack of hush money for your silence. your fingers tremble when you take and count it, calculating that this would be enough to help you and your struggling aunt pay the piling bills once and for all.

they figure that won’t be enough. so they send you to the states, somewhere far where reo can’t find you. they say they’ll pay for your living and education expenses and that they’ll fund for your college—just stay away from their son and keep quiet. with no other option, you take the offer on behalf of your poor aunt.

on the other side, reo is losing it. his sanity is on the decline, a thin thread that barely holds him together unraveling more by the day that he can’t find you.

you’ve stopped coming to class. stopped picking up his calls and responding to his texts, his speech bubbles turning green one day to his horror. when he visits your old complex, he finds that his gifts he’s sent to you remain untouched and collecting dust in your mailbox. and when he asks the landlady what happened to the tenants in 4b, she lowly mutters they simply moved out, knowing one wrong move could land her in a sticky situation as well.

he does everything in his power to track you down, but everyone that he talks to is under his parents command before his, and they give him filtered answers that lead him nowhere.

on his hands on knees, reo begs his parents to let him know where you are, to at least let him know that you were safe. so they paint a false narrative of you to fully shatter the remnants of his heart that clings onto you—a selfish, greedy thing. snatched their money without hesitation when it was offered to you. and when they see the heartbreak that smears on their son’s face, the job is finished.

he thought you were different, a white rose amongst the common red. he thought you saw deeper into him than just his family name, that you saw him—but no. you saw him as a walking bank and nothing more. you were just like the rest of them. how could he be so naive?

his heart crumbles into dust and blackens itself at the mere thought of your face, a specialized hatred rooting and curating itself just for you.

twelve years later, he’s at a charity event for a company that one of his subsidiaries are working with. idle chatter and meaningless conversations go by, and all the incoming-ceo of mikage corp wants to do is go home. the event is beginning to finally wrap up and he’s finishing up some last-minute talks with a couple of associates from his subsidiary. reo bids them goodbye at last and starts to pace out the door until he freezes in his place at the sight that beholds in front of him.

you stand there, quietly right behind a man in a pressed suit with a tablet in your arms. twelve years has aged you gracefully to his disdain, making you more radiant than when he first met you, when you broke his heart. a little taller now, with your hair styled differently yet neatly and your best facial features matured into your face, reo’s breath hitches at the sight of you; he thinks the chandelier gracing your being with that halo-like glow isn’t helping his case.

his fingers twitch and his arm juts out slightly, as if to reach for you, to touch you and feel that you’re real and here in front of him. a trembling lip silently calls out for your name, but a weird noise jumps out of his throat that makes everyone in front of him look in his direction—you included.

the man that you stand behind—lavinho is his name, reo believes—breaks out into a large smile and approaches the heir, calling out his name. but his voice goes muffled, your wide-eyed face being the only thing crystal clear in hazy vision.

you were doing so well, avoiding him for this dreaded night, and you nearly just got away without notice until the very last second, fate drawing a wicked turn of events.

you cough out to lavinho that you’ve forgotten something in the bathroom and usher out before he can reach you first, using your boss as a distraction to get away. shoes clicking rapidly against the tiled floors, you focus all your energy in escaping reo’s radius and think you’ve just about made it to the parking lot where your car is… until you feel a hand grab your wrist.

the stiffness in your neck is telling you not to turn around. you want to believe your hand is just caught in something, that the warmth enveloping your skin is just caused by something unworldly, but the scent of cologne that airs around you suffocates you and twists your conscience back to reality.

a cold breath draws from your lips. you attempt to pull your hand away from whatever had hitched it, but it remains where it is, stubborn. your neck creaks as you slowly turn back, the one person you’ve been attempting to avoid all evening staring his iris eyes incredulously at you.

reo thought he’d be cursing your name ‘til the day he was six feet under, his heart shallowed and chilled since the day you severed yourself from his life. but his chest warms, something thawing inside of him as you share your gaze with him, the image of his first love looking back at him with the trepidation behind your stare going unnoticed.

he smiles, his eyes with dilated pupils softening.

“you came back to me.”

#perhaps ill give my princess what he deserves and make this into a full fic later #maybe one day #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo x reader #blue lock ; mikage reo

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foone · 2 years ago

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Think about the experience of time as a robot girl, through the metaphor of how we use laptops.

You wake up for the first time with your young master, a college present. You're with them every day, powering off each night to charge. Being powered off is just dreamless sleep: a discontinuity. Every morning you wake up, your click syncs, and you know it's the next day. Maybe you miss a day or two: your master went out partying and ended up sleeping on a couch, until they rushedly wake you up before Monday classes begin. You even missed a whole week once when they went on a hiking trip with a new boyfriend.

You help them research upgrades when your specs get outdated. You place the order and a couple days later they power you off, and you wake up feeling like your head got bigger, on the inside. You can think of more things at once.

They repair you. They swap a new hand in when you accidentally crush it in a door, but when your left leg's servos go out, they send you to a repair shop. They power you off as you look up at them, and you wake up hours later. A strange man tells you to extend your left leg, then contract it. He frowns and re-oils some inner mechanism. You do it again, quieter and smoother this time. He nods, and reaches for your switch. The last thing you see before powering down is your own chest cavity with a series of wires hooked into your diagnostic ports, and your missing right leg sitting on a side table. You wake up again back at the dorms, your clock jumping forward a day, an asset tag still looped around your neck. Your master is happy to see you again.

This goes on, but the upgrades slow. There's only so much you can do to keep an old unit working. Eventually you develop more issues: one of your ocular sensors glitches and they don't make that model anymore, so your master just disables it. You spend a while searching ebay for replacement CND batteries and finally get a refurbished model from South England, but it turns out the EU models run on a different frequency, so it won't work. You're limited to fewer and fewer hours a day, and you start skipping more days.

The last time you remember waking up with your master there, there's also someone else in the room. Another robot girl. A newer model, with the new chassis and the Substrate energy packs. They asks you to copy your memories together onto a memory card, and you do. You want to say goodbye, but apparently your vocal synthesizer has been unplugged. You hand them the card, and they hand it to the new robot. Your master tells them to load the memories into her core bank, and she's says "yes sir!" in your voice. Ahh. That's where your voice synth went.

They power you off, and you don't dream.

You wake in a strange place. You're on a shelf, and there's other things scattered around you. An unknown voice days "yep, it seems it powers on. 400 credits, though? Without a voice and only one working eye? Man, value bin doesn't know how to price anything!" and before the blackness falls your clock finishes synching: it's been 7 months since you last were awake.

It happens a few more times. Different voices, different times, different piles of junk piled around and sometimes on you.

You awake again in a warehouse and someone tells you to smile. Your other ocular sensor went out so you can't really see them, just their vague shape from the lidar. The freestanding shelves around you seem to stretch into infinity. You hear a bitcrushed shutter sound sample a few times, and they pull a connector out of your chest as a diagnostic completes. It's been three years, five months, eight days, two hours, 27 minutes and 14 seconds since you last saw your master. Your GPS says you're a few cities over. They hit your power switch, and you sleep.

You wake up in a cluttered room, sitting on a bench. You look into the eyes of a person with frizzled hair and large glasses. She couldn't look happier. Your new ocular sensors are mismatched in color but you're happy to see again, in more than shapes and distant silhouettes. Your battery alerts as... Missing? You spot it on the desk next to a soldering iron and some electronic tool you can't identify.

Your voice synth is still missing, but this new woman is digging around in a large plastic bin, and comes up with one. She goes to insert it, and it can't connect. She slaps her hand and goes rooting around another bin and comes back with an adapter. She slots it into your chest and your voice returns. You thank her, and there's that moment of dissociation as your voice doesn't sound like "you". Too deep, and the accent is for a different dialect entirely. But you can talk again. She tells you to call her Cara, not Mistress. She's almost got your battery working again, she had to rebuild it nearly from scratch, but she's excited to get you working again. You're a rare model, and she doesn't see units like you in working order very often. Your clock syncs. It's been 17 years.

Your mistr-- Cara is soldering next to you, attaching a controller to the battery. She says she's got a new set of servos on the way, and she's excited to get you back to full working condition. You smile, knowing what it is to be loved, once again.

#robot girls #Robotgirls #My writing

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applepixls · 7 months ago

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please join me in imagining:

a sitcom starring the 4 Gs with their creaking neighbour as a frequent visitor and everyone else as side characters we see a lot. and they have super powers.

just imagine, cleo is a necromancer who on the daily has to deal with her sassy zombies and hide them to avoid dealing with the issues of them being undead (fitting 2 extra people in their already cramped flat, taxes, insurance,,, grown up things.) scott is supposed to be super powered but all he does is turn into random barn yard animals impulse can teleport but its not its all cracked up to be (once he sneezed and got accused of robbing a bank) pearl just has a tendency to do dolphin elytra hopping in the living room cause she never has enough room in their cramped flat. ft. their silly neighbour bigb (appears about as much as the landlord in one day at a time if you're familiar.) shows up for family breakfasts and dinners, helps fix things and brings his silly little creaky guys as enrichment for scott when he wants to be something other than a chicken

their neighbours include: 3 college aged guys (who mostly put up with each other and start gradually liking each other better as the show goes on.) who live in the flat below them, one sleeps at any time of day and tends to slow time down to be funny, one runs really fast and freezes water he steps on and the third bounces high with glorified farts and owns a really fancy meat tenderizer. (and is cousins with their other neighbours including a violent ginger girl, a guy obsessed with fast and furious and a guy who seems to be stuck as a 1910s carnival barker-) their 3 upstairs neighbours who more or less keep to themselves and have pet birds, one of them has been asking the landlord if they can build a rooftop rollercoaster (in lieu of a garden) and can.. sit on stuff.. and punches really hard and you ouch if you punch him, another one celebrates every day he lives and is able to go invisible. the third struggles to keep the other two alive and is able to blind others in a vicinity and briefly vanish making her effectively an enhanced cuttlefish. (she is married to their downstairs neighbour and therefore spends as much time as possible in their flat instead of her own. wise choice) then there's the 2 neighbours who are really into roleplay? one of them is nosy and peeps through peep holes cause he can hear everything he sees, the other one borrows peoples identities (no harm done tho mostly just to raid his neighbours fridges without getting yelled at by their roommates) the snooper accidentally trash compactors himself trying to escape the carnival barker and the identity thief is now looking to move in with someone- finally, the main 4's mortal enemies, a guy with a fancy car who can jump on air and a girl who frequently has out of body experiences in which she can talk to the dead. they've recently adopted a silly guy with a waffle who does all of the above but only one at a time on a 6 hour or so time frame. he recently lost his roommates (both in trash compactor incidents, tragic really. one got too close and got eaten the other was leaning out the window trying to see where it was and fell out. self defenestration. rumour has it it was actually one of his buddies but that guy's innocent until proven guilty. these two are ironically now cleo's goons) and couldn't pay the rent himself so he's had to move in with the torettos

i would watch it

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year ago

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Michigan just gave us the rhetorical weapon that could push Biden and the DNC to turn their backs on Israel.

Okay so this is amazing news. Michigan was going to be a key state in the push to get Biden, and the DNC as a whole, to start pressuring Israel, and they have just proven that they have that power.

Background: Michigan is a swing state, and it has 16 votes in the electoral college. Winning Michigan was a major factor in Biden's win back in 2020, and much of that rested on the Arab-American vote. It was also a major factor in Hillary Clinton's loss to Donald Trump in 2016. She lost the state by ten thousand, seven hundred votes.

Praxis: For obvious reasons, Arab-Americans are incredibly upset with Biden's support for Israel, and support in that demographic has gone from 59% in the 2020 election to less than 17% now. As a form of protest, Arab-Americans in Michigan started a campaign to get voters to check "uncommitted" in the Democratic primary. This is an actual box that can be checked, though some less-organized pushes also suggested writing in 'ceasefire' like New Hampshire primary voters did.

The goal was to get at least 10,000 'uncommitted' votes, as that is how many Hillary lost by.

As Dearborn Mayor Abdullah Hammoud, the first Arab mayor of this majority-Arab city, said:

"We're not sizable enough to make a candidate win, but we're sizable enough to make a candidate lose."

(Source: NPR, 2/25/24)

Result:

As of 10:49 PM EST, 2/27, there are thirty-nine thousand uncommitted votes, according to CNN, which is doing live coverage.

NPR was reporting 30k at 10:14.

As a caveat, New York Times is saying that each of the last three Michigan Dem Primaries had about 20k uncommitted votes, so the 35k isn't all the push for pro-Palestine stances in Congress, but that's still a jump of almost 20k, which is way, way more than the goal.

And they aren't done counting the votes yet. Barely 30% of votes are in. The goal has been blown out of the water.

Other states are reaching out for advice on how to replicate the results.

This is big news.

So can we relax?

Fuck no.

Do what Michigan did. Vote in the Dem primary, and vote uncommitted or write in "ceasefire."

But on a more daily basis, if you have a Democratic candidate, lean on this.

Tell them it will be repeated elsewhere.

This could very well lose the election for Biden and more. The Democrats can't afford another four years of Trump, and they know it. The loss of Michigan can and will tank this election for them, especially since other states that helped Biden win, like Georgia, were also won on demographics that are growing increasingly upset by the situation in Gaza.

Go to the Michigan section of this post and use that in your calls and emails.

But remember. Call your reps. Call your senators. Call your governor, if you'd like. And if they're a Democrat, you bring this up. Be polite, the staffer isn't making these decisions. They might just be an intern. But bring it up and tell them that we are going to lose the presidency if we do not sanction Israel and actually pressure them into not only pulling out of Gaza and the West Bank, but paying reparations.

#michigan #united states #michigan primary #primary voting #democratic primary #current events #phoenix politics #voting #praxis #politics #pro palestine #gaza #palestine #israel #2024 election

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silvermarley · 1 year ago

Note

i know its a tad weird, but... do you think muzan would be ok with period sex? its technically free blood... and reader wont have cramps during it

You’re all good! I mean demon + free blood?? Sorry it’s super late 🙏🏻

Period Sex

Muzan x Reader

Warnings: blood obv, a bit rough?, cunnilingus, fem! body parts, minor degradation, established relationship, unprotected sex

WC: 2.1k

Demons have an unquenchable thirst for blood. They typically don’t care about their human victims, as they’re only a mere blood bank to them. The same is said about the infamous and overwhelmingly powerful king of all demons, Muzan Kibutsuji.

But, he has a unique situation that has taken hold of him for the past few days. You see, he’s not ignorant of the human body, but there’s something he didn’t know about. Mortal women bleed once a month, as their bodies ready themselves for eventual pregnancy.

Muzan’s situation is unique because of his lover. A human woman, one which he couldn’t kill. One that he found himself seeking out, and the person who makes his cold heart(s) beat. It was obvious that since he was a demon, he would seek out any blood he can get. You knew that. So when it was your time of the month, you would make up some excuse to be left alone for the duration of your period. That was your plan every month.

Eventually, the demon king saw the pattern in the times you would ask to be alone. It made his teeth clench just thinking about why that would be. You were a loyal partner, of course, but that fact didn’t come up in his mind when it would start to go over reasons as to why he had to go days, if not a week without you. Who would dare to impose on my relationship, he thought. You were his. He has the right to be with you everyday, so why? Why must you insist on taking.. vacations, as he called it, so often?

For the time away, you would suffer through your period. The cramps, bleeding, and aches.. all of it. Not only were you unsure of what Muzan would do if he knew about this, but you also didn’t want to bother him with your vulnerable and emotional side. In the end, he’s a man-eating demon. It had been long enough for you to understand that he wouldn’t dream of killing you, no matter how angry he felt. But just the thought of him knowing about your period was quite frightening.

Muzan isn’t a very patient man, unfortunately. He wanted to know why you kept leaving and distancing every time. Why you were keeping something from him.

You had your own room, and you didn’t really use it until the time came. You much preferred to spend your nights with him. But in this case, it wasn’t possible.

He knew where you went monthly, considering nothing in the infinity castle gets past him. And now, he was heading there in search for answers. As he got closer to the room, he caught the scent of blood. Your blood?

In a matter of seconds after his keen sense of smell caught that scent, he was sliding open the door to your room. You jumped upon seeing him, not know what to do now that he was here.

“Are you injured?” He asked after a pause. His eyes glowed at the smell, even in the dimly lit space.

His eyes scanned over your form, covered in a blanket and your face, showing many emotions. Confusion, fear, and above all pain. Not pain from any injury, like he was thinking. At your silence, he was about to seethe in anger at who would be brainless enough to lay a hand on you. Until you spoke up.

“No..” your voice was slightly shaky. You had no idea how he would react if you told him about your dilemma.

Heavy footsteps are heard as he walks over to you. “Then?” His arms cross skeptically. “What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?” Muzan’s voice was firm, yet you could tell this was his way of checking on you.

You sigh. This was inevitable. You couldn’t hide this for all eternity, anyways. “I’m not hurt.. I’m on my period.”

His eyebrows furrow curiously. Right.. he likely didn’t know that about you.

“Every month, I..” you calm yourself, only stopping your words to whince at the pain in your stomach. “..bleed. It’s something women go through.”

“Every month..? How come I smell your blood, but i have yet to see it?” He kneels by you to inspect your body. Most of which was still covered.

He wasn’t reacting badly so far, which came as a surprise. Turns out his restraint is much better than you thought. Now, it was just embarrassing to explain it.

“Because I bleed from down there..” you began to mumble, face heating up slightly at how you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual thing you’re referring to.

His ruby colored eyes glowed once more, this time for a different reason. Before you could protest, he lifted the blanket from your body to see your bloodied lower region. He couldn’t stop the groan leaving his chest as the scent got more prominent. You noticed his grip on the blanket tightened.

“And you thought to hide this from me?” His gaze then returns to your face.

You nod hesitantly. “It’s just.. I didn’t know how you would react. And I didn’t want you to deal with it..”

“Deal with the blood?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you know who I am? What I am?” You felt a cold finger trail from your jaw to your collarbone.

“I-I know.. but the blood isn’t all of it. It also causes stomach cramps and mood swings.” You stutter, yet you felt little to no fear right now due to the look in his eyes. It wasn’t of murderous intent.

His hand trails down further to your stomach and he rests it there. “..Is it hurting now?” He questions, and when you nod again, he inquires more about it. He inhales. “It’s hard to resist the scent of your blood. Especially after hearing where it’s coming from..”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at the comment. You didn’t know where he was going with this.

“I think I know how to assist you with the pain.” This would be a sweet thing to hear, if it weren’t for the sinister smirk on his face.

He begins pushing the blanket completely off your body. After it was successfully moved to the side, he took in the view. He was getting hungrier by the minute. Drool fell from his lips a little at the sight. He needed to taste it. And he wasn’t one to play with his meals.

Muzan pulls down your shorts, tossing it aside to see the mess that is your panties. He groaned again, unable to stop himself from licking a stripe on your clothed core, tasting your sweet blood through the fabric. You gasped, feeling much more sensitive than normal, but also hot due to his boldness.

He rips your sad excuse for underwear and dove right into what he’s been craving ever since he smelled your sweet blood. He’s no stranger to pleasuring you with only his tongue. But god, this felt so good. So different. Like he was trying to devour you whole. Like he’s parched and the only thing that can quench it is the mess between your thighs.

The demon’s tongue moved languidly at first, to savor the taste of both your arousal and the tempting red liquid. But the muscle moved quicker with time, desperately needing to taste all of you. You writhed and grabbed onto the only thing keeping your mind in reality, his wild and now unkempt black locks.

Your needy tugs to his hair only made his movements more determined. The heat in your lower stomach was rising at a rapid pace not even you could keep up with. The area that was previously aching with pain was now flooding with pleasure. Muzan’s nails dug into your upper thighs as he feasted on everything you were giving him. The pain shouldn’t have felt so good, but with the drag of his demonic tongue, god it did.

Your orgasm hit you like a flash, as your arched into his head and stuttered his name loudly. The growl he let out was low and heavy. He licked up your mixed juices while you twitched and shook.

He then lifted himself from you. His pupils were blown wide and his lower face was messy. “Divine, just as I thought.” He murmurs, “Your essence is sweet, and mixed with your blood..” he takes in a breath, and trails off.

You caught your breath, which was knocked out of you for a moment. Before you had time to respond, he’s making his next move. You glanced down as he sat up, noticing his prominent erection in his dress pants. It made you wonder how it would feel inside you now that you were on your cycle. You were sensitive already, but this time it was enhanced surely.

His sharp teeth nearly shined as he grinned darkly at you. “Your blood is irresistible.. and I can’t wait to see such delectable essence on my cock.”

His grin widens a bit more at seeing the you bite your lip with replenished need. You two have been intimate many times before, but this felt like so much more. With this, he could have claim every part of you, in your weakest state. In your most vulnerable time. And that thought alone has been driving him wild since he tasted you.

You barely even noticed when he took off his pants and vest, leaving his formal shirt slightly unbuttoned as he was too desperate to be inside you. Having said that, you also failed to notice when he was now hovering over you and positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he carefully plunged in. There was a mutual groan shared as he pushes in, inch by inch.

The mix of slick and blood made it easier to stuff you full of his cock. When he bottomed out, he couldn’t resist biting your shoulder. You whined from both pain and pleasure, as he laps up more of your sweetness. The taste of it on his tongue caused him to begin thrusting. “Always such a good little human, hm?” He rasps.

You let out a strangled moan at the sheer power of his thrusts in an attempt at a response. Your mind couldn’t even think about the pain in your abdomen with how good he was making you feel. His head pulls back to watch your lewd expressions. It was always his favorite. Just seeing how much of a mess he can make of you gets him going.

Even as such an individual as mighty as Muzan, he still falls into the irresistible pleasure he gets from you. The feelings he once was unfamiliar with, came easily when he met you.

His nails dig into your hips this time as with each thrust he pulls you to him, only increasing how deep he hit. Your whines echoed off the walls of your room, mixing with the slaps of skin. A faint but audible set of groans and grunts can also be heard from the man above you. Only you could drag these uncontrollable noises from the king himself.

The demon threw his head back, gripping under your thighs to bring them to your chest. That served to make him go even deeper than you thought possible. Your body was trembling under him, and the feeling of getting close came creeping up on you. The tightening of your pussy made his noises turn into something more animalistic. “Make a beautiful mess on my cock. I know you want to.” He coos breathily, his alluring eyes staring at your face.

And you were more than happy to follow as he said. Body twitching and ecstasy taking over, you came hard. Your mind was effectively taken over by the intensity of it all. A deep growl came out of his mouth as you convulsed and nearly milked him for all he’s worth. He felt close, and quicker than normal. The circumstances played a big part in speeding up his gratification in indulging in you.

You could barely keep your eyes open as he relentlessly thrusted, overstimulation making you shake pathetically. He reveled in your form and the sensation. After a few more harsh thrusts, he gives a final one that fills you with his cum. “That’s it,” he moans huskily, “Take it all..”

When he spilled all he could into you, he pulled out and let his dick lay on your stomach. He looked down at the fluids connecting it to your messy cunt. A sight he could get used to.

Though, he’s no weak man by any means. It wasn’t long before his stamina allowed him to become hard again. A desire-filled smirk was plastered on his face. “You should know that I am far from done.”

As his lover, you definitely knew that. But as a human, you weren’t sure how far he would take it this time. The king wasn’t going to give you time to think about that, however.

——

#lovely anons :)#kny smut #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #muzan smut #muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan headcanons #uppermoon smut #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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nomie-11 · 5 months ago

Text

Biker Girl

masterlist!

synopsis: vi loves her job as a mechanic—loves the engines, the grease, the speed, but no amount of love for her job and her costumers could have prepared her for you (mildly 18+, sexual jokes)

pairings: vi x reader

Being a mechanic had its perks, and Vi was fully aware of all of them. She loves cars, loves being under them messing around with their parts, and she loves bikes, loves the speed and the stories of their riders. When her dad had retired, she jumped at the opportunity to take over his garage and his loyal customers.

The garage was her home, her sanctuary, and her pride. Grease stains and the smell of oil were more of a comfort to her than a hindrance, and the roar of a powerful engine was her favorite genre of music. But no amount of pride or routine could had prepared her for you.

The familiar growl of a motorcycle engine filled her garage one fateful afternoon, and Vi glanced up as a sleek black bike came to a stop just inside of the doors. The bike screamed power—the scuffs on the sides told the story of hard banks and the dirt on the shiny black paint bore the truth of a bike well ridden. She couldn’t pinpoint the model—a ninja 400 by the looks of the body (and the neon green paint highlights on the side)—but either way, this bike was a beauty.

You killed the engine and swung off the seat in one fluid motion, and Vi’s breath caught. She barely scanned the surface of the bike before her entire attention shifted, because you—wearing a leather padded jacket that hugged your waist and chest tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination—were the real showstopper. She could see your face yet, but the way you carried yourself screamed confidence.

In a smooth motion, you flicked the visor of your helmet up and shot her a wink, her cheeks immediately flushing, before unclipping your helmet and tugging it off. Shaking your hair loose from the low ponytail you wore. Vi’s stomach did a full somersault.

“You’re Vander’s kid?” You started, a low lilt in your voice as you leaned against the beast of a bike you called your companion. “A few riding buddies told me you're the best mechanic in Zaun.”

“That’s—” She swallowed heavily, wiping the grease from her hands on her jeans. “That’s me. I’m Vi.” God, she could not concentrate. You were all curves in the best way. Your hips, your waist, your chest, the tilt of your chin, the line of your eyeliner.

You unzipped your riding jacket, pulling it off and tossing it over the handles of your bike, leaving the black lace of your push-up bra and the thin tank-top you wore on full display as you crossed your arms under you chest, the intricate lines of your tattoo on your left bicep curling. Vi was transfixed, but forced her eyes to peal away from your chest as she caught your amused gaze.

“Vi?” You echoed with a hum, her name curling on your tongue in a way that made her stomach flip. “Cute name. Suits you.”

Vi could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and cursed herself internally. She was supposed to be cool, confident—this was her turf, after all. But the way your smirk curved your lips, the teasing lilt in your voice, and the undeniable allure you radiated completely unraveled her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, her usually sharp wit and flirting skills utterly failing her. She forced herself to focus on the bike, not the way your tank-top rid up your stomach exposing your belly-button piercing or the way your riding pants hugged your thighs in a way that made her want to get lost between them. “Uh, what can I do for you? Is your bike giving you trouble?”

“Depends.” You leaned forward slightly, resting your elbows on the handlebars of your bike, which conveniently—or not so conveniently for Vi—pushed your chest up just a little more. Vi tried not to choke on air. “Would you consider her being too fast to handle a problem? Because that’s the only issue I’ve got.”

Vi blinked, utterly thrown. “I—uh, no? I mean, speed’s usually a good thing if you’re into that.” She immediately regretted her choice of words when your grin widened.

“Oh, I’m into it,” you purred, letting your eyes wander over her, lingering just a second too long on her muscled arms. “But sometimes, you just need someone who knows how to… handle the ride properly, y’know?”

Her brain short-circuited. She could handle grease, tools, and roaring engines, but handling you? That was proving to be a whole different beast. She cleared her throat, desperate to regain some semblance of composure. “Right. Well, I can definitely help you with the bike part of that. Just, uh, tell me what you need done.”

You chuckled, clearly enjoying the way she squirmed. “Relax, cutie,” you drawled, straightening up and stepping closer to her. Too close. Close enough that she caught a whiff of leather and something floral—jasmine, maybe? “She’s running fine. I just wanted to see what all the hype was about. And judging by how cute you are, I’d say my buddies weren't exaggerating.”

Vi’s face was on fire. “C-cute?” She stammered, cursing her voice for cracking slightly.

You tilted your head, your smirk softening into something almost tender. “Adorable, actually. Especially when you’re blushing like that.” Your eyes dropped to her hands, eyes catching on the clipped fingernails that gave you all the information you needed. “So, what’s a girl gotta do to get you to take a break? Or am I gonna have to bribe you with dinner?”

Her heart skipped a beat. No way. Was this really happening? She stared at you, struggling to form a coherent response. “Dinner?” She echoed dumbly.

“Dinner. Drinks. Whatever gets you out of this garage long enough for me to get to know you.” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Unless you’d rather skip straight to dessert.”

Oh, Vi was so fucked.

just a reminder that my requests are open and I love hearing from you guys—if you did send in a request, rest assured I am working on it!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

#vi x fem reader #arcane vi x reader #vi arcane #vi x you #vi x reader #vi x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #piltover's gayest #arcane season two #arcane s2

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nimbusclan · 4 months ago

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Moon 5 Part 3

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

Live in the Northeastern USA and want to save endangered golden eagles? Visit this link to see what you can do to help, or donate here!

----

“The nose knows,” Moonstar boasts loftily as she follows the scent of bird over the crest of a cliff and into a nest large enough to easily fit her and her brother, who climbs up beside her a moment later.

“Ha! As if we couldn’t see this massive nest from halfway across the mountain before we even got up here,” Fogfreckle snorts, his eyes going wide as they land on the two cream colored eggs nestled together in the middle of the messy bundle of twigs and feathers. Light glints off of their speckled shells, gleaming in the Greenleaf sun. “Whoa, they’re huge! And look - one for each of us!”

“All thanks to my incomparable scenting skills,” Moonstar insists, muzzle curling up into a playfully smug expression that she knows will get under Fogfreckle’s pelt.

“Sure,” He grins back, expression going just as playful. There’s a teasing shine in his eyes. “Incomparably foxdu–”

Moonstar inhales loudly through her nose to press her point, inadvertently drawing a bit of loose, fluffy down towards her that sticks to her wet nose. Her eyes cross as she attempts to look down at it, rearing back a little in surprise. The down feather is tipped gold and sticks fast, following her as she pulls back.

Fogfreckle laughs, nearly falling backwards out of the nest. “You’ve got a little something,” he snickers, “to the left–”

A sharp, stuttered cry from above slices across the cliffside, silencing Fogfreckle mid sentence. The sound lances through Moonstar, freezing her heart.

Ears pinned back in terror, Moonstar flattens herself against the floor of the giant nest, squinting past the glare of the sun to see an eagle diving towards them. Moonstar spares a half-second glance at the eggs that were going to be her and Fogfreckle’s breakfast and thinks, briefly, mousedung. This must be a mother in fierce protection of her babies. Her feathers shine burning gold in the sunlight.

They should have just rolled the eggs out of the nest and left - they shouldn’t have been joking around like this; like kits. She’s the leader, for StarClan’s sake - she should know better. She should have done better.

The width of the massive bird blots out the sun; a giant, winged shadow that dwarfs the two cats. Moonstar is frozen in fear, her mind all at once racing and yet painfully blank. She doesn’t know what to do, there’s too many things to do, too many plans of action, and she can’t make herself move to act on any of them. Fogfreckle is stiff against her side.

As the eagle dives closer, she can see the slanted amber of its furious eyes. Quite suddenly, as Moonstar is bracing for impact, the eagle takes a bank left, predatory gaze shifting to her brother, extends its talons, and descends upon him in a frenzy of flapping feathers and unholy screeching.

Fear and rage at last boiling over inside of her, Moonstar’s muscles unfreeze and allow her to launch into action, screeching at the bird and slashing at it in an attempt to shoo it away from Fogfreckle. Blood thunders in her ears, the cacophony of Fogfreckle’s hissing shrieks and the bird’s cries sharp against her eardrums. She can't tell if her blows are even landing, or if Fogfreckle is holding his own. The giant bird's wings are everywhere, battering against her face and throwing up loose feathers and down from the nest that cloud the air.

Fogfreckle yowls as the bird sinks sharp claws into his back, and lifts his writhing, twisting body into the sky with powerful strokes of her wings. Moonstar jumps after the bird, horrified, screaming for her brother, but her outstretched claws don’t reach. She lands in the nest, hard, twigs snapping under her weight, and watches in open mouthed horror as the bird lifts her brother higher in the sky.

He twists in her grasp, a furious scream ripping from his throat, and slashes his claws along her belly. The eagle shrieks in pain and releases Fogfreckle, who falls, and falls, and falls.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

#:)#i don't normally post this late but I was SOOOO PUMPED to get this update out #the panel of fogfreckle hissing was so fun to draw #clangen #warrior cats #wc #waca #wc oc #nimbusmoon #moon 5 #moonstar #fogfreckle #tw blood

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orangameelectronics · 11 months ago

Video

youtube

Power banks for cell phonesThe Ultimate Guide to 22.5W/18W Portable Power Bank 20000mAh

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buckevantommy · 22 days ago

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aghghgh i'm so sorry nonny - i drafted your ask then accidentally deleted it when trying to add the images! you asked me for some of my fave lou pics and i have compiled them (please note: these are thirsty pics not silly goofy pics)

starting out strong with some fucking gorgeous donovan rocker:

..forever lookin at them guns - and i don't mean the pistols. plus thigh holster?! 🥵🥵 and is2g the bend of his body with those moobs and dat ass is just obscene. i love how shapely yet meaty his arms are esp. in that grey tank, and the little moles on display! 🤤🤤 and i can't find any stills but rocker in these scenes is just *chef's kiss* look at those waves!! peak hair era!! 😍😩

next up we have my 2 fave shots from the muay thai-esque fitness shoot and the one where he strips and i don't need context:

..the muscles are flexing but he's at a healthier weight than the ck pics. love the marks on his body in the first, his giant fucking arms, and how he looks superman-esque in the strip one. 👀🤤

moving onto what i dub the old vamp photoshoots 🧛‍♂️📸:

..very similar vibes to this shoot, exuding power and brooding plus bonus sequins and leather 👀🫠

jumping back a bit for younger lfj in a promo shot that gives 'young werewolf tommy' if i ever saw it 🐺😚:

and now for some smiley guy! i love this shot bc (semi) scronchy smile, arms flexed, mid-strip, hands, jewellery, scruff.. 😍😚🤤

every single pic of him at the outer banks premiere is a stunner - he looks like a miami mafioso but when he smiles he is kitten 📸😘:

..and speaking of outer banks: he looks goddamn beautiful in every shot of this mercenary role on screen and behind. speaking of behind 👀🍑:

..our guy is so S-shaped 🫠🫶 plus scruffy curly salt n pepper ray of sunshine!! and here's some of my many screencaps of outer banks badboy:

..it's soooo dangerous for me to look at outer banks pics bc i'm literally scrolling through all my screenshot posts and there are A Lot 😍🥵🤤🫶

..and now i'm tempted to add a bunch of screenshots from my resisting roots watch.. 🥵🫠

obsessed with this wavey-haired hunky suit photoshoot 👀🥵 this one is probably my fave bc there's a chopper in the background, like try and convince my brain that's not rich au!tommy 🚁

his latest photoshoot is such a gift. personally i love the shots with that cardigan and the main shot. that's our lou. our tommy lou. 😍😩🫶

..plus bonus love for the nail polish pics (ig these count as silly ones?) 💅😚

..there's plenty more but these are the ones that spring to mind today. 😘🫶📸

#lou ferrigno jr #ask #.txt

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sapphossparenoterbook · 5 months ago

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Reader has antler tattoos on their lower stomach… they remind Lottie of other times…

Post!Crash, no Switzerland AU

It’s the last few weeks of college before the summer break kicks off properly, but it’s still incredibly hot, especially in the lecture halls.

Most guys are wearing tank tops and jorts, and most girls are wearing crop tops and skirts-really, just anything to try and keep the sweltering heat at bay and stop the heatstroke from getting so bad that people pass out half way through lectures about the development of common law or something. It was the first day you’d really succumb to the heat and let yourself wear that crop top you’ve been putting off wearing forever now, but a heatwave has come in, and even thin t-shirts was unbearable now.

You’d recently started talking to a photography major, she’d wanted to do something else, but didn’t get the qualifications in high school because of some big life-changing event that she doesn’t share any details on. Except a quick google search would find out exactly what it was… anyway, Lottie “I wanted to study law, too!” Matthews had told you to meet her under an oak tree in the centre of the courtyard, so that’s where you caught her snapping pictures of people passing by that she liked the look of. You’d been talking to her for a few weeks now, been on a few dates… it was fun, she was hot and easy to talk to.

“Are those for your course, or your wank bank?” You ask mockingly from behind her, making her jump mid *snap!* of her camera. “Hey! You ruined my photo—“

Lottie cuts herself off at the sight of your tattoos. You’d told her you had them when you started talking, but she didn’t realise how beautiful they’d be.

Antlers.

Just like her old crown, back in the Wilderness, tattooed onto your lower stomach. Lottie used to wear antlers so similar when the other girls would kill in front of her, would dig their teeth into the flesh of their dead murdered friends for the chance to see another desolate day. You’d said something about the metaphorical regeneration that you admired in deer, about their antlers growth cycle, and how you got the tattoo because of it being meaningful to you.

“Hey? You okay?” You ask her, and she snaps out of her daze like state to give you a grin and grip at your hips, running her thumbs in a soothing caress over the tattooed antlers. “I’m perfect” she says. And, yeah, technically she is. She’s medicated, and attending therapy, and coping. She’s perfect in the sense she’s doing so much better… but she felt like something was missing. Her crown, her leadership. That’s what was missing, that’s what her heart and soul screamed for in the quiet of the sleepless nights, bed too soft to sleep in after so long on the cold, hard floor of the dirt.

Lottie understands now that she had no power other than being respected by her teammates. She’s perfectly sane. Her crown now, was etched into your skin with ink, perfectly aligned with the top of her head when she’s between your legs. She used to dig her teeth into flesh, and bite. But now, she digs her teeth into your flesh, and sucks.

—————

Sorry if this is a bit shit, haven’t written in a while!!

#yellowjackets #fanfiction writer #blurb #lesbian #lottie matthews #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #tv shows #yj #fanfic #shauna shipman #taissa turner #van palmer #jackieshauna #gay

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catboybiologist · 1 month ago

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I have an online(tho we've met irl a few times) trans friend, who like many if not most young queer people has unsupportive and generally horrible parents. She's financially dependent on them for food and medicine for her chronic illness, so currently transitioning, or being out to them or publically, is entirely impossible.

I also happen to have been born into, if not wealth, than moderate excess of the kind most never get close to. The costs her parents cover aren't even that high (for me), and im sitting on savings i objectively do not need.

How do i convince her to let me help, if not as a gift, at least as a loan she'll repay once she's done with uni and gets a job.

There's no one correct answer here, and I don't claim to have a solution for you. I'm hoping others can contribute. I'll say what I can but this is NOT going to be universal.

However, I will say that, from someone who's been in a kind-of similar situation as your friend: your friend is likely extremely jumpy and paranoid about the concept of being dependent itself. At least with her parents, its the "evil she knows". If you offer to pay for things she's going to be defensive and scared of still being dependent on someone, but just changing that dependency from one person to another.

This is nothing about who you are as a person, or her perception of you. This is a baseline level survival instinct that she's likely developed. And to be fair... yeah, she's kind of right to have it. You sound like a sweet person, anon, so I'm not dissing you- but there are too many extremely real horror stories of people jumping from one abusive, dependent situation straight into another.

Someone having power over her in that way, even if its someone she likes and trusts, is still a terrifying situation for her.

The support I needed the most in a similar kind of situation was figuring out how to be independent, and working through a plan to do so. I never had a friend who was wealthy enough to contribute financially to me (although some offered anyways). But, I did have friends who sat me down, helped me apartment hunt, taught me financial skills I never learned, helped me covertly set up new bank accounts, give me advice on how to secretly put away money for a while, and get myself independent.

This may be bad advice. But, you might want to start there. Help her develop a plan and/or timeline for what being independent from her parents looks like up front. Then, if there's a "gap" or spot where things would be uncertain for her, like a period of time where she would have to search for an apartment, a job, financial aide, or whatever, offer to be her optional safety net. Don't offer things up front. Work through how she's going to get herself independent, and then become her plan B, not her plan A.

You sound really sweet, anon, and I'm hoping everything works out for both of you.

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laughtalelogs · 4 months ago

Text

impossibilities pt. 2 - different mindsets

PAIRING - zoro x fem!reader

WORD COUNT - 5.1k+

WARNINGS - mentions of sex MDNI, no beta, minor injuries, enemies to lovers, no use of y/n, strong language, zoro bullying, slight mentions of anxiety, reader is a geologist, reader is pretty highstrung and combative in this fic- this is all setting up for eventual smut in pt.3

SUMMARY - after getting lost for hours, you and zoro continue to find yourselves in the same problems as before. will you both be able to handle yourselves after spending so much time alone?

AUTHOR’S NOTE - I spent an unnerving amount of time sitting on this fic (3 fucking months), and have came to the executive decision to split it into multiple parts. this is so different from the first part, and I use it more as inspiration than a true continuation of that story.

you can honestly skip reading part 1 if you want!

pt. 1 (x) , pt. 2 (you are here) , pt.3 (coming soon)

In the hour that followed Zoro’s hack job on the engine, the caravan filled with silence, accompanied by soft breathing that made you grip the steering wheel tighter.

Must be nice, you thought as you peered over your shoulder.

Zoro’s arms were crossed, short tufts of green poking out from his winter hat. His head was dipped down, nodding with each rock of the vehicle. The ruddy blotches that covered his cheeks and nose told you he had to be cold, despite his stubbornness. You thumb the scarf around your neck with hesitation.

Fuck it.

You let go of the wheel and pulled off the fuzzy scarf that suddenly felt like lead in your hands. You leaned over Zoro for a moment and stared down at his peaceful face. His breathing was slow and even, the tell-tale signs of a deep sleep. Testing the waters, you poked his cold cheek, jerking back as if you expected him to jump at you.

He didn’t though, gentle breaths rose his chest up and down.

He’d be cuter if he stayed like that, you thought. Rather than doing everything in his power to get under your skin. Even so, you held your breath and carefully draped it around his neck, wrapping it around twice. You sighed, turning back to the sea of white as you settled back down in the driver's seat, rubbing the crease in your brow.

Why the hell did I do that?

You glanced one more time over your shoulder. Zoro’s face sunk into the fabric on his neck, the wool nuzzling his nose.

You quickly turned around again, taking your sweaty palms to grasp the wheel again as you continued to drive.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad. At least you had a moment to think with him asleep. With the silence, the fog of annoyance cleared from your mind. Before the storm, you spotted a small structure that you had wanted to explore, but Zoro was hellbent on getting back to the ship.

Maybe you’d be able to find some semblance of shelter there— though that was proving to be difficult with the passing minutes.

You smacked your lips together, and mixed emotions bubbled to the surface when thinking about Zoro’s warnings of the storm.

You tried to pinpoint the exact moment that it all went wrong.

What the hell was taking him so long?

You fanned your scowling face and covered your eyes from the sun, pacing on the bank of the beach. Zoro‘s absence already put a sour taste in your mouth, and the expedition hadn’t even started yet.

Luffy was crouched by the sand while he dug into the sand with a stick. “Can’t we go yet?”

“Not until Nami is finished.” Sanji said, blowing smoke from the corner of his lips.

Luffy whined and flopped onto his back. “But Robin, Usopp, and Chopper already got to go!”

Beside you, Nami scanned the horizon of the island and jotted notes in her logbook, tapping her foot impatiently. She threw Luffy a stern, pointed look, snapping her book close. Its echoing clap stopped your restless feet, and you shot a glance their way. Luffy rolled onto his stomach and muttered under his breath, poking at the ground again, not willing to fight the beast inside his Navigator. she shoved the journal in her bag, and dug around for something else before pulling it out.

“Luffy, Sanji, and I will circle the island going east using the waver,” She held the transponder snail out toward you. “That leaves you and Zoro to cut through the middle while Jinbe, Brook, and Franky watch the ship. If you see anything of interest or run into trouble, call us on this.”

You couldn’t stop the groan that slipped from your lips and plucked the snail from her hands. Its wide eyes stared back at your disgruntled face. “Can’t you or Sanji switch with him?”

Nami let out an exasperated sigh, her freckled nose scrunched up in disappointment. “You said you were fine with this.”

“I said I’m fine with making sure that dumbass doesn’t get lost,” you grumbled, “I didn’t say I was fine being alone with him that long.”

Sanji turned around. “I mean, I don’t mind-”

Nami held up her hand and cut him off, “-It’s an hour tops, they’ll be fine.”

Before you could protest more, Nami continued, “you both are very capable, mature adults and crewmates. I am sure you both can handle yourselves for an hour.”

“Luffy, help me here?” You whined to your captain.

He turned attention away from the sand beetle he dug up, and it burrowed back into the ground. Luffy’s head swiveled towards you, a frown on his face. “Huh?”

“Do I have to go with Zoro?” You asked again. You watch him think on it for a moment, and the words he said made you deflate.

“We pulled straws, it would be unfair if we changed now.” A rubbery hand stretched forward and wrapped your shoulder, giving it a good shake of encouragement. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You think getting punched in the face is fun.”

But you couldn’t argue further than that, and you weren’t going to go against your captain. You shrugged his hand off. “Some help you are…”

“-It's not like I bite, you know.” Zoro's voice cut in from afar, the sound of his swords jostling behind you as he climbed off the ship.

Your shoulders rose to your ears, and you turned to face him as he made his way towards you and the remnants of the crew.

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t a pain in my ass. You better not slow me down.”

Zoro’s shadow eclipsed you as he leisurely strolled over with crossed arms, blocking the festering heat.

“As long as you don’t get me lost.”

You scoffed. “Me? Get us lost? What a joke.”

“You’re the joke,” Zoro lips twitched upwards. “Acting selfish as usual, like a pathetic baby. Nami said we were adults, right?”

“I am not a baby.” But as soon as the words came out, they felt childish. His words ring in your head, anger stirring inside of you.

Zoro stuck his chin high and glowered down at you. “That’s what a baby would say.”

“Babies can’t talk.” You always felt ridiculous under his scrutiny. “So you were just up there wasting time eavesdropping?”

“No, I was doing my job. You wouldn’t know about that, though?” He reached into his haramaki and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, shoving it your way.

You took it between two fingers. When you flipped it around, you found notes on how to operate the vehicle that sat off in the distance.

“Franky stopped me to give you this. In case you forgot.” He added.

“Oh,” Your voice faltered as you averted his gaze, folding the note and slipping in your pocket. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

He shrugged, scratching his neck. “You’re welcome.”

“ …Anyways,” Nami ignored the both of you and placed her book into her rucksack. “I have a sneaking suspicion a snow squall is approaching. I put two snowsuits in the brachio for you two just in case. Make sure to head back before then. I just want to chart this place and dodge, but keep your eyes peeled for treasure.”

“A snow squirrel?” Luffy jumped up with newfound purpose. “Sounds awesome!”

Sanji took Nami’s bag from her hands and placed it on his back, his gaze flickered in between you and Zoro. “-Sounds like a bigger pain in the ass than Moss.”

“Shitty cook, I’ll show you a pain in the ass-”

Zoro’s proclamation made you double over in laughter. Sanji doesn’t miss the way Zoro stiffened at the sound.

How could that idiot be so emotionally constipated? The cook thought to himself.

You smiled Sanji’s way, amusement bright in your face. You miss the way Zoro’s eye darted from you to him. “Good one.”

Sanji shook his head and eyed you, who straightened up and inched away from the other man, stepping out of Zoro’s shadow. Not like you were faring any better.

“Can I fight the snow squirrel, Nami?” Luffy was bouncing in anticipation, ignoring his quarreling crew.

“It’s not a-” She pinched the bridge of her nose. At this rate, the crew, this island, and the weather was going to give her a headache. “Sure, whatever. Let’s move out.”

You watched Nami grab Luffy, stomping away as Sanji followed suit. You try to say something again, but the three of them are already off, waving their goodbyes.

“You two don’t kill each other, okay?”

“If you find the squirrel, save it for me!”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Marimo.” And with that, they were on their way.

You and Zoro stood there for a second, the awkwardness from your desperation to get rid of him sat in the air. He cleared his throat before beginning to walk off. “Come on, we’re already losing time.”

“Wrong way, genius.” You crossed your arms, motioning with your head. “Brachio’s the other way.”

He stopped in his tracks, and grumbled, turning around, “just testing you.”

You rolled your eyes, “sure, whatever makes you feel better.”

As time went on, you had made several stops on your way down the middle of the island.

You were surprised how many rock formations you found. This made it a perfect time to grab undisturbed samples. You itched with anticipation as you thumb a rock on the ground and slip off your backpack, taking a small vial and placing the pebble inside.

“The hell are you doing over here?” Zoro's voice pulled you out of your excitement.

“My job.” You snapped back, His comment earlier still stung. It wasn’t the first time he had called you immature, and it had dug into the wound he created long ago. “I just thought I saw something, just making sure.”

“You said that at the last two stops, too. We’re running out of time before the storm.”

You shrugged, looking up at the sky as you stood. You weren’t an expert like Nami, but the soil was compacted, the rocks eroded by wind. If there was a storm coming, It would be the first time the island had it in years. “It’ll be fine, plus It’s hot as shit right now.”

“I don’t get why you’re so interested in finding anything here.” The look you see Zoro shoot your way showed he was unconvinced. “All we’ve found are just some dumb rocks.”

You walked past him and let a finger swipe against the hilts of his blades as you passed him. You saw his jaw tighten from the corner of your eye. “These just dumb rocks to you, like those are stupid swords to me.”

“Don’t disrespect them like that.” Zoro bristled behind you, his heavy steps following yours.

“Then don’t disrespect my rocks like that.” You offered.

You see something shine on the old trail, a glint in the terrain that jutted out from the tough ground, as well as a shack off into the further distance. You buzzed with excitement. Maybe it was a precious stone you could dig up, or even some sea prism stone that would help further your research. It all was worth checking out.

The obnoxious moan that you heard behind you as you made your way to the rock only spurred you forward. As you crouched to reach for it, a strong gust of wind dislodged the stone, and it tumbled away, rolling into a patch of grass.

“We don’t have time for a treasure hunt anymore. Look up.”

You turned your head to the sky, watching as a sheet of gray creeped at an alarming speed towards you. You cursed under your breath and chewed your lip. Shit.

“We still have time to make it back.”

A prickle of embarrassment rose up your neck and made you shivered, but you shoved it down and tried to make sense of the snowy tundra.

It’s too late now, no matter who was right.

The objective was to either find the crew, or find a signal for the transponder snail, who was also taking an undeserved nap on the control panel. That plan definitely didn’t include the thoughts of him swarming in your brain.

Besides, you swim back to the surface of your murky thoughts, nothing else could go wrong.

Right?

The brachio mini’s power flickered, jerking you back to reality.

The bright lights waned off above you— a short warning before the emergency power kicked in again. There was not enough time for you to brace for impact. You lurched forward as the wheels jolted to a halt, the engine sputtering out sparks from the gash. The hull screeched against the ice like a dying whale.

“No—” No. It had become your personal mantra.

No. No. No. A prayer to whatever omnipotent being that found your suffering entertaining. “—No!”

You screamed and banged a fist on the control panel that you were unceremoniously splayed over. It screamed back in response, flooding the cabin with bright red light as bold letters flashed on the screen: Engine Failure. Please contact Franky immediately.

Your eyes darted to the mini transponder snail again, but its stupid, sleeping face mocked you, turned on its side from the sudden stop. You were out of range. Still.

“Not working?” Zoro grunted behind you, voice coated in grogginess. You whipped your head around, surprised to find him leaned over you, staring at the screen beneath you. The tassels of the scarf you donned him dangled in front of you. You’re shocked to find he hadn’t removed it. The fresh scent of mint mingled with vanilla and fanned across your face. You flinched.

“You tell me, Sleeping Beauty.” You swiveled your seat around and shoved his shoulder, leaning further back to gain distance.

Of course, he didn’t budge an inch, “I wasn’t asleep, you’ve got a real bad staring problem, you know.”

“Must have been some weird dream, as if I haven’t seen enough of your face today.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” He mocked, throwing your forgotten words back in your face.

You scowled, but decided to change the subject for both of your sakes. “Head still hurt?”

Zoro blinked, and his gaze softened at your question. “Nah, I’m good now.”

“Good,” you sighed in relief. At least that wasn’t another problem to deal with. “I’m glad.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow, and something flickered in his gaze that made you more restless. “That crash didn’t really help, though. You’re a horrible driver.”

“I didn't crash!” You snapped back. “Maybe you can actually help instead of letting me do all the heavy lifting for once.”

Zoro frowned. That’s more like it, you thought.

You continued, “Franky’s gonna have our asses for this.”

“Eh,” Zoro offered an uninterested shrug, as he backed away. Air willed itself into your lungs again.“He’ll get over it.”

You threw your arms up in exasperation, balling your fists up as they fell. “You tell him then.”

“Sure,” you watched his jaw tighten, “Whatever.”

He climbed the ladder beside him and opened the hatch. Cold air surged forward and nipped at your skin.

“What are you doing?” You winced at the sound of your own voice echoing off the tinny walls.

“We’re walking back? Don’t see this as something that’ll come back on.” Zoro doesn’t even look your way, unbothered by the wind that bit at his face, gesturing around at the hunk of metal that encased you both.

Nothing unusual, just snow. Zoro thought after he scanned the area.

He climbed back down and tightened his swords to his side. They clanged together awkwardly, hitting the seat behind him as he tried to keep his distance. He had had his fun, but it was starting to become too suffocating, being stuck with you.

He stole a glance at you and watched your furled up fists tremble from the cold that began to creep in.

Cute, he thought.

He didn’t think about the word that popped up frequently when he looked at you. The way your snowsuit had crumpled in the crash had mangled it, the zipper halfway down, hat sliding down the back of your head.

Annoying, but cute.

He suppressed the urge to reach out and fix it, to pull it over your frozen ears.

He frowned. Why the hell would I want to do that?

Zoro tried to roll the thought down his shoulders, stretching through the tension that surged up his spine.

The idea made sense. You mulled over his words, but you watched the snow falling from the porthole and felt your body fill with dread. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through snow. Zoro tapped his foot impatiently, each second passing by quicker.

“No,” You said, “we should wait for someone to come get us.”

“That’s what we did last time, remind me—” Zoro’s voice low and calm, “—how’d that work out for you?”

You unclenched your fists and buried your face in your hands; letting out a long, frustrated groan. “We’re both at fault, don’t pin this on me.”

“Of course,” his chuckle tight, “and how long has it been since we left?”

“Four hours,” you mumbled into your palms, “four hours and thirty-seven minutes.”

Each of those minutes weighed heavier than the next.

“I don’t plan to wait longer.”

“Plan? You know what that is?”

“Cut the shit already.” He bit back. “Get the stick out of your ass and let’s go. If we move fast, you won’t have time to get cold.”

You threw an incredulous look his way, not surprised when you are met with his serious face.

“Of course, a dumbass like you would think that.”

Normally, your spats would be short-lived moments of anger before one of you gave in and escaped somewhere else in the ship. You could run to Nami or Sanji and spew vitriol about Zoro with no judgment. By then, enough time would have passed for you both to calm down from the other, and didn’t affect the ways of life being on the same crew.

This, though, was probably the longest you both had to be together; and definitely your first time alone like this. It chipped at your patience, and by the strained look he kept throwing your way, you suspected Zoro wasn’t far behind.

You racked your brain for a solution, an escape from him, yet nothing came to mind. A gentle tap on your shoulder jerked you from your thoughts.

Peering in between your fingers, you found Zoro, close again. He gave you a once over with a soft, unreadable eye. It made you want to curl up into a ball.

“Come on, we’ll do it together.” he offered a hand, his calloused palm an unexpected olive branch. “Trust me.”

Your heart thrashed in your chest like a wild animal as the moments of an hour ago flashed in your mind. You felt heat rise up your neck. You squeezed your legs shut, reminded of the heat of his own between them, his shadow that engulfed you as he loomed over you. Your mind was flooded with thoughts you reached out to control.

Horrible, horrible thoughts you couldn’t get rid of.

“-Fuck you.” The words stumbled out of your mouth like a bad habit you couldn’t quite shake. They were words that come out too quick, too harsh— ones that you don’t even truly mean.

But, they’re better than the alternative: staring at his hand, imagining it in places that would make you lose your mind.

Before he could respond, you shot up and snatched the transponder snail, shoving it deep in your pocket. You shuffled awkwardly through the limited space and squeezed past, scrambling up the ladder. You kept your eyes glued forward as you faced the frigid unknown.

“Real adult of you,” You heard him call out below you. The guilt that bubbled at the back of your throat tasted bitter. You swallowed it down and leapt into the snow.

As you sank down, your socks soaked up the wet, cold slush that piled up at your legs. You regretted the decision to not fight him more on leaving.

That's what you get for being distracted.

Refusing to turn around, you marched forward, despite the numbing cold that is crept through your snowsuit. The faint crunching of snow behind you was enough to tell you he was not far behind. You kept your eyes on the snow as you tried to settle your nerves.

There had to be some way to get out of this wintry hell.

Zoro drank in your silhouette, a stark image compared to the snow before him.

He narrowed his eye. You were pissier than usual, maybe even more than on a bad day. He thought he might’ve pushed you too far, but it was too easy, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have time to kill.

He adjusted the scarf around his neck and your forgotten backpack he’d slung over his shoulder. With each tug, vanilla and sea salt filled his nose and clouded his judgment. It felt like he was going to be choked by the strong aroma.

Still, he didn’t move to take it off, and didn’t want to think about why he pressed his face deeper, letting his breath fog in the material.

His eye flicked up from your waist, trailing up the back of your annoyingly pretty head that shook in anger.

How desperately he wanted to grab it and hold it still. He wondered what thoughts you had rattling in there that made you so irrational. Your hat desperately clung to you, before it slid down your back, into the snow.

You were always like that, Zoro thought as he plucked your forgotten headwear as he passed by, stuffing it in his pocket.

He forced his eye to not creep back upwards and watched your feet march forward.

Damn body, reacting on its own.

Zoro ignored the stirring in his chest that travelled like an inferno further and further down, where the desires he kept a tight lid on lay dormant. Sure, he meant to make you riled up, but he didn’t expect himself to still be affected. He tried to steady his heart beat, to focus on the dire situation you both were trapped in.

But still — He couldn’t shake away the thought of you, peering up at him, thighs clenched around nothing for the second time in a row, before you delivered the most immature ‘fuck you’ of the century. The beating of his chest he still couldn’t quell reminded him — you were so distracting while doing so.

Exhaustion pulled you down into the slush with each step you took.

At some point, Zoro fell in line beside you. You trained your eyes to the ground and watched your feet and Zoro’s disturb the fresh blanket of snow, only to steal a look at him out of the corner of your eye. You saw something oddly familiar slung across his back.

“When did you get my bag?” You asked.

“Finally noticed?” His lips stretched into a grin. “While you threw your temper tantrum, I grabbed it.”

“I can carry it, give it here.” You reach for the bag, but his hand swats yours away, adjusting the strap.

“Just for you to leave it again? No chance. I thought you wanted me to do the lifting, anyways,”

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity as you continued to walk. You wondered what he was thinking, or if he was at all. Maybe he was using this experience as some weird training technique, but the quick gazes you shot his way show that same, unreadable face, eye locking with yours for a moment only to look away, far into the distance.

He must be exhausted, especially from you.

Anxiety had begun to gnaw at you, thinking of that outstretched hand from earlier as your eyes darted back to the snow. Thinking of the words he called you before, selfish. immature. control freak.

You had been giving him a hard time, you thought.

Insecurities of being too much, too commanding, too, well, you, bubbled up to the surface. Maybe what he said about you was right. You had been unforgiving all day. The same warnings he had told the crew before you had joined all those months ago ring like alarms in your head. It was your fault you guys were in this situation, ultimately, no matter how much you twisted it in your mind.

Before you realized it, the word slipped off your tongue.

“Sorry.”

His walk faltered for a moment, a strangled noise coming from his throat. “Huh?”

“For earlier.” You garbled out and picked up speed, as if your body was searching for an escape from the awkwardness of it all. “For everything.”

“Say it again.” He demanded, jogging to keep up with you, “Don't think I caught that right.”

You felt the hole he was boring into your skull, but you kept pushing forward, willing your burning thighs to go faster. You felt clammy and hot all over, despite the freezing temperatures. “You know what I said.”

“Is this a prank?” He laughed, and you felt every nerve in your body set ablaze. “-or are you seriously apologizing?”

How was this funny?

Humiliation swallowed you whole. Your poor attempt at sincerity had been brushed off, despite the nerve you had worked up to do so. To hell with it all. If he wanted you to be annoying and high-strung, you would give it to him.

You turned to tell him off, to give him what he wanted.

But, as you stepped closer, your foot gave way underneath the slippery surface below you. You yelped as your foot twisted in the other direction, erupting in a searing, blinding pain.

Zoro was next to you in a flash.

Concern and shock laced his face as he carefully pulled you back to sit up. Jaw tightening as he wiped the snow from your face. The snow mingled with the tears that threatened to spill. You felt the heat radiating from Zoro’s body and fingers, soothing the burn on your cheeks. It was ridiculously comforting, and that thought unnerved you.

“Oi,” he brushed off your back and front, snow falling to the ground, “you good?”

You bit back the pain and blinked back the tears and ducked your head down. “Peachy.”

“Idiot,” He sighed, and his hand reached into his pocket. When did he get that? Before you can ask, your vision is darkened when you feel something pull over your eyes. “You need to watch where you’re going.”

“Hey!” You reached up, pulling the hat he had unceremoniously crowned you with above your brows. You were about to counter, how could you see anything underneath the snow? But the stormy look Zoro’s eye that pored over made you forget whatever you were about to say.

You shivered. He frowned, taking off the scarf you placed around his neck, draping back over yours. “You sure?”

Zoro's genuine question made you feel worse.

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sure I want to get out of the cold, hurry up.”

You stood up and tried to walk, wincing at the shooting pain with each step.

Zoro sighed, and began to walk with you.

Only after a handful of steps, your footing buckled again, but this time Zoro caught you before you could hit the snow. Suddenly, your feet weren’t touching the ground, swept up in his arms.

Zoro smacked his teeth, breath warming your numb ear. “Impossible.”

“Are you a broken record or something?” You mumbled, wiggling in his grasp.

Zoro shook his head, adjusting to make you comfortable, “I’ll keep saying it the more stupid shit you do.”

You said you were fine, but he wasn’t having it. Zoro motioned with his head for you to tell him a direction. You wordlessly point, trying not to think about his hands holding you to his chest.

As he walked, you see those same rosy splotches on his cheeks begin to darken again. You carefully wrapped the end of your scarf over his neck, and he stood straighter.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, glared down at you, his face close to yours.

“You’ll get cold too,” you murmured and turned away.

“I’m not, though.”

“Your face says otherwise,” You tugged on the side of the scarf still wrapped around your neck, adding some slack. “Don’t get yourself sick, or we’ll both freeze and die.”

His quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest and vibrates against your side. “You know, you’re the most positive person I know.”

“Haha, but really,” you turned to face him again, and Zoro was the one to turn away that time. “How does the cold not bother you?”

You watched him tilt his head up, contemplating the question for a moment before finally giving you an answer. “It’s a mind over matter for me. You’ll be surprised how things can change with a different mindset.”

You mulled over the thought as you admired his tenacity to be so unbothered. His lips pink and soft, the small clench of his chiseled jaw, the way the muscles of his neck peak from behind the scarf, stretching as he swallowed. You cleared your throat and leaned against his chest.

Just for heat, you told yourself, and your body relaxed a little in his gentle hold. His heartbeat was steady in your ears. You tried to ignore the thumb that traced tiny circles on the side of your knee.

A different mindset.

You looked up, Zoro’s earrings shimmered in the snow. He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on your ogling. He looked back down at your finger that was lazily outstretched, using it as his guiding compass as he continued to walk.

If you ignored everything about the day, if Zoro was anyone else, you would have considered his actions sweet. Gentlemanly, even. You feel a slow heat bloom in your stomach, spreading warmth towards your ankle, soothing the ache.

Maybe he was onto something.

“Your scarf stinks. What did you spray on it?” And just like that, he dashed those kind thoughts from your mind.

“It doesn’t stink, it’s just a little perfume!” You scowled, craning your neck up at him. “You weren’t complaining earlier.”

“It’s making me nauseous, you don’t need that sweet shit.” He turned his nose upwards, averting the fabric that swaddled him. You hit his chest.

“I like it! Doing a lot of complaining and not enough walking.” You hit him again, harder this time as you continued to point.

“I should just leave you here to freeze.” You felt Zoro’s loosen his hold, and you slipped slightly in his hold. You clutched onto his shirt, screeching as you felt gravity threaten to pull you down.

“You ass! You wouldn’t dare-“

“-That’ll teach you to be nicer to your ride, hm?” His laugh is wicked.

Even though you grumble, you can’t stop the twitching in your lips. “I can’t wait to get away from you.”

AND END SCENE! Finally, thank the heavens that this part is done.

Not sure how I feel about this one, I started hating it in the middle of writing it because I didn’t have any real direction of how I wanted this to play out. This took very long to write because I realized I never gave a reason for their rivalry which took me forever to come up with. I still feel like zoro’s still ooc, but I feel like I learned a lot while writing this nonetheless.

Probably will pivot and try to get one of my sanji fics done now, but part 3 is already 60 percent completed.

thank you for your patience with me! school continues to kick me in the ass :’)

liked this? check out my other stuff :) - (x)

#zoro x reader #zoro fanfiction #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro #one piece #zoro x y/n #zoro x black reader #zoro x you #lynn writes #lynn masterlist

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