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#he definitely has more weaknesses. and more strengths. but these are the ones i could like. think of
forestdeath1 · 2 days
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What traits do you think Sirius is attracted to? Like what would his ideal type be like?
(don't be afraid to go into extensive detail about it 🩷)
His ideal type... James.
Actually, it might not seem obvious, but for Sirius, it's important that people accept him for who he is. He might not realise it, but that's the filter for whether he'll have close relationships with someone. Showing complete acceptance of him as a person, without trying to change him, and genuinely loving him for who he is – that's the first thing that needs to be in a person. Otherwise, Sirius just won't open up. So, it's either full acceptance and liking Sirius just the way he is, or à la poubelle (And this is despite his deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy and the desire to be useful)
The second crucial condition is that the partner must earn Sirius's respect. RESPECT. Sirius must want to respect them. See them as an equal partner, no less.
Despite Sirius showing care for those he loves, I don't think he'd be attracted to someone who needs to be protected all the time. Sirius cares for the weak (like animals) and those under his protection (like Harry), but his understanding of caring for Harry is specific—it's not motherly care like Molly's, it's about providing resources and opportunities for him to become stronger and overcome challenges. Sirius has a deep-rooted aversion to human weakness in general (this isn't the case with animals because they genuinely depend on humans, but in Sirius's view, humans always have the potential for action rather than just having pity parties. It's a deep respect for the concept of being Human, for their ability to make choices and their potential. He believes that Humans are capable creatures, and it's only individuals choose to give up their agency, which diminishes the very idea of being Human. This is a pretty tough and harsh view of the world, but you can see it in him right from his first appearance in PoA.)
I see two types that could attract him (of any gender), one he'd simply get along with and spend a lot of time with, and the other who could be with him for the long haul.
The first type is easy-going, cheerful, able to handle his mood swings, finds his humour amusing, and can pull him out of the occasional melancholy he falls into. Someone interested in many things, active, and an engaging conversationalist. They don't create drama or get overly emotional if Sirius does something "wrong". This person can easily and flexibly navigate Sirius's boundaries just by being themselves. They're open-minded and free from stereotypes and limitations. They don't take offence at Sirius's jokes and humour; they take everything lightly. In general, they're airy, flexible, confident, attention-grabbing, bright, cheerful, and not overly concerned with questions of morality and correctness, but fundamentally a good person.
The second type is someone quite tough and strong. Also not inclined to drama or hashing out relationships, but with very firm boundaries. If they have a quarrel, it's a real fight, not just shouting. Sirius is definitely drawn to strength in another person, and there's potential here for serious relationships and to hook Sirius for years. This person is a bit edgy, and there should be something dark about them? I don't know how to explain it correctly, they shouldn't be evil or morally wrong, but they're definitely not a soft, tender flower. Very independent. They won't sigh over Sirius and won't look at him with puppy-dog eyes, but they'll definitely express their desire passionately. They're equals in everything, or maybe even better at something. Perhaps this person should have some unusual interests. Very passionate. Very. They have an animalistic sexuality. Sirius is more submissive in these relationships. And they might not be exclusive and could date others simultaneously, but they'll always come back to each other.
And the third type–James.
Well, alright, there might also be a fourth type, someone calm, thoughtful, perhaps with some challenges in life and difficulties that they faces stoically and without complaint, etc etc etc, but I'm tired of writing, sorry. I'd love to read your versions!
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basicinstnct · 11 months
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can’t quit you / miguel o’hara
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word count: 1642
tags: oral sex, size kink, friends with benefits, strength kink, slight angst, commitment issues
ao3 link: here
summary: you know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.
a/n: i’d like to add a better graphic but the movie just came out. one day!
small prequel: here
“This is practically breaking and entering,” you tease. You’re less than new to returning from work to a huge form sprawled across your couch. Miguel has no issue making himself at home, at least not in your apartment. You figure it’s a sign that you don’t scream at the sight of him, even if you’re stuck on how weird it is, coming home to a shadow at night and not being bothered. It’s part of his strange charm (and you secretly revel in the fact that he’s only this comfortable with you).
“Wouldn’t have to break in if you’d let me have a key,” he’s entirely serious.
“You know why that can’t happen,” you say, like you’ve had to say a dozen times. Any number of excuses come to mind. You’re emotionally intelligent enough to know that he’s emotionally unavailable, no matter what he says, or thinks.
“I can be your man,” he says with his typical resilience, “more, if you’ll let me.”
You don’t even know what more means, if he’s already in your apartment like it’s his, if he’s already been inside you like you’re his. What will one more step do? You know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.
“Miguel…” He’s run out of reasons to refuse you. You’ve run out of reasons to refuse him. Nice reasons, at least. But knowing what’s good for you doesn’t mean that’s what you want.
He rises from the couch, and it is a rise. He normally towers over every piece of furniture in your place, over you. It doesn’t take much trying. You’ve wondered if it’s hard for him to always be the biggest thing in the room, but a guy like him probably likes that, likes being unavoidable.
Miguel only knows how to kiss one way, sloppy. When his lips meet yours it’s like all the desperate parts of him come out of hiding. His tongue grazes all parts of your mouth like there’s something sweet inside, and you whimper when you realize he’s swapping spit with you. Even his saliva runs a bit hotter. It makes you pull back, panting in lieu of straight up whining.
“Baby,” he says with your face in his hands, like he knows it’ll make you weak. You try to avoid his gaze but he catches your jaw, squeezed a little the way he knows you like. “No,” he sighs, long and heavy. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna say no now.”
“I’m not saying no…” 
Miguel sinks to his knees and looks up at you like you take the wind out of his sails. Being able to look down at Miguel is a hard pill to swallow. “Gonna let me taste that sweet pussy again? Or are you gonna make me beg like you did last time?”
If you remember well, denying him didn’t end well for you the last time. You have flashes of being put in a press, legs to your ears with Miguel growling, talking about the feeling of your wet cunt on his dick, about how good you felt milking him, about how if he didn’t know any better he’d think you want his cum. You didn’t even know he could talk like that, talk about anything other than preserving and protecting. It’s like a switch is flipped when he’s with you, even if it’s been weeks or months between seeing him.
You give an inch and he takes a mile. Lifts your thigh over his shoulder so he can get at what’s between your legs. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping at parts of your flesh just to hear the sighs you make. When he goes under your skirt you expect to feel something, his fingers or tongue, but instead it’s just him breathing against you. Smelling you.
“You’re disgusting,” you whine, flushed anyway.
It doesn’t stop him, probably encouraging him instead seeing as he nestles his face in deeper, grabbing your hips so you can’t pull away. Your squirming only pushes him further into you. You can feel his nose bump your clit, and his tongue pushes fabric against your pussy.
“Miguel, come on.” You feel so ridiculous, even though he can’t see you.
“I want you to beg me,” you hear him say, “I want you to beg me like you made me beg the last time. Bet you feel just as needy as I did. I can hear it in your voice. so it shouldn’t be that hard.” He starts to palm you just to prove a point, dragging thick fingers up and down your slit. It doesn’t take long for you to start soaking through the fabric. 
“Please,” you murmur, “pleasepleaseplease.”
“Please what?”
“Please, Miguel, touch me. Touch my pussy.”
“All you have to do is ask, baby.”
You feel him drag your underwear down your legs, toss it somewhere in the room. Then he’s free, free to pull apart your folds so he can see you clench and drip around nothing. He leaves you just like that, before you feel the heat of his tongue, lips following soon after. And it’s not just touching, it’s like he’s making out with it. You can’t help the throb that goes through you, and you’re sure he can taste it in his mouth. 
You shiver at the heat of him, aggressive and persistent, not unlike a raging fire. Your body is torn between reactions, goosebumps on your flesh and sweat on your brow.
“It’s ok, baby,” he’s saying, sounding like he’s got a mouthful of you. “I won’t look at the faces you make. I know how embarrassed you get.”
Miguel slides two fingers in deep, and then starts curling. It doesn’t make much of him for you to feel split open. He’s big all over, everywhere where it counts.
“Cute,” he mutters, when you buck against his hand, “you still think you’re strong enough to get away from me.” His words have the intended effect. You feel powerless, so you give in. You’re barely standing on your own feet, his hand and shoulder and face giving you all the support you need.
“I know,” you moan, “I know, I can’t.” You feel yourself gone boneless in his grasp. He has you.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna keep you on my fingers until you soak my hand, and then I’m gonna make us both come, okay.”
“Yes, yes, okay,” you agree without listening, “Miguel, please make me come.” 
He takes away his fingers, but not before sliding them against your pussy again, like he’s trying to collect all that drips out of you. When he moans shamelessly into you, and you start to hear a slick sound, you realize that can only mean one thing.
“Are you…” You can’t say the words.
You can hear him fist his cock, spread what he took from you all over his dick, using it as lube. The sound of wet skin so loud you can almost see him. Shlick. Shlick. Shlick. You know how he gets when he’s pent up, how he leaks like a faucet if he hasn’t come recently. You’ve felt him throb in your hand, seen the dark look he gets when your hand can’t even wrap around him. Miguel moans like he knows what you’re thinking, and goes at you harder. You barely feel there, like he’s just using the taste of you to get off.
“You’re wet,” he slurs, like he’s confirming, “‘s gonna make me come.” 
“Me too,” you sigh, high on the feeling of him. “I’m gonna come too.” But you can’t yet, not until you see. Your hands are clumsy and shaking as you fumble with the buttons of your skirt. You pop them out one by one until it all falls away and you can finally see Miguel.
He looks as debauched as expected. His jaw and mouth shine with what you’ve done to him, and when his eyes flicker open he looks like he’s under a spell.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is a lilting tease, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he leans back in, licks your clit until you whine. You’re right back on the verge of orgasm. 
You know he’s close too by the way he shivers. It’s his tell, you’d realized the first time he fucks you. Miguel shakes like the pleasure is too much, and when it finally is you hear it rather than see it. Thick streams of his cum wasted on the floor beneath you. The sound of him so eleated, knowing it’s the taste of you that has him like this, has you right where he wants you. 
You grab onto him as you come, feel his strong shoulders tense with the effort to hold you tight. He doesn’t let up with his mouth, licking up all of you until you shake from the stimulation.
It’s not surprising that you teeter when Miguel lets go of your legs, still weak from your orgasm. “Oh, baby,” he says, “if you needed to lay down you should have said so.”
You end up intertwined on the floor, his hand combing through your hair. You can hear him breathe deeply, and the peace of it threatens to send you into a deep sleep. It’s laughable to have him fawn over you like this, when in the morning you’ll choose to go back to separate lives, so much so that you can’t help but joke about it. “You treat all your girls like this?”
“There are no girls.”
“Sure,” you giggle, “so when I don’t see you for a month…”
You don’t believe him for a minute until you look at him, and his face is so honest, so genuine, that in the back of your mind you wonder if there could be a future for the two of you after all.
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
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Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi)
You and your friend group are definitely not a part of a typical slasher movie. Two weird guys you met at the corner store somewhere in rural Austria definitely not serial killers. You are definitely going to be saved. You are definitely not going to like being their little trophy.
TW: Yandere, Age gap(Reader in her early 20, murder husband in their late 30), Serial Killers, Mild Gore, Extreme dub-con(Bordering cnc), Blood, Horror, Kidnapping
CHAPTER 1 You meet two weird locals at the corner store in a city in the middle of Austrian woods. Your timid nature is going to be your downfall.
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Come to the woods, your assholes-of-a-friend said. Come on, he said, I know that for someone like you, dwelling in some shitty forest for three or more days only to drink mediocre beer and probably have even more mediocre sex while mosquitos are biting at your vagina sounds like your worst nightmare, but! Have you considered it could be fun? 
Yeah, you have considered it. Considered it, thought about it and already decided not to engage with the idea. Spending the holiday in your own country, your own city and by your computer was far better than running around some random Austrian forest – and so you decided to kinda…ditch the idea. 
Considering what happened in the next few days, you really should have been more true to your words. 
Because you agreed to the proposition – because you don’t want to antagonize your friends, because you already feel strained from them, because they are assholes and they continue to be assholes but they are the only ones you have. Maybe you shouldn’t rot in your room, maybe you should agree to spend Spring break with them, getting drunk in the woods and maybe chasing some wild boars across the place. 
— Sorry. 
Some asshole – not the friend one, just an asshole in general, like everyone else in this fucking country that is so stuck up at being in the woods and mountains, that you are literally going to be sick – took the last remaining bottle of coke that was still left on the shelve. You were not having it because it was almost night already, the last remaining store open in the area, and you needed your sugar fix and something to mix alcohol with so you wouldn’t get drunk and stupid immediately. 
You aren’t letting go of the bottle. 
The guy doesn’t let go either. 
— Sorry, I think I got it first. 
You hate how weak your voice is. Never be the active, social one of your friends, you’re stuck being just a dumb girl who has literally everyone walking all over her. You decided to dig your heels into the ground and sent this asshole where he belongs – so, your grip on the bottle intensifies. 
— Haven’t seen you. 
He tugs the bottle back to him – and he has some arm strength, surprisingly for someone in this town. To be quite honest, you are too intimidated by his deep, annoyed voice to even consider looking at him, so you don’t know what the guy looks like. Maybe it’s an MMA champion – celebrity shop at some weird corner stores in abandoned Austrian cities too. 
— I am very sorry, but I really, really need this bottle. 
You don’t, actually. There are multiple bottles of Pepsi right here, and not like you have a very specific preference for the drink that is bad for you. You just got tired of people walking all over you, tired of your friends that constantly getting you into their shenanigans without asking for your opinion and you just want something good happening to you at least once. So, you tug the bottle back to you, and press it against your chest, hoping that whoever this man is will get the memo and get the fuck away from you until you’ll get your pepper spray. Ah, right, you forgot to bring one…well, he doesn’t have to know about that. 
— What do you need this bottle for? 
— Important reasons. Secret reasons.
The man sneered and you finally got a good look at him. And…fuck. 
Tall, broad, maybe more on the leaner side, but you can clearly see his tight muscles that form this perfect, thin type of masculinity that makes you think about greet athletes and that weird webtoon you were occasionally reading because you don’t have anything better to do with your life. You lick your lips, nervously, suddenly aware of the fact that you wear some old hoodie, battered jeans, and exactly zero makeup – you were supposed to get chased by the bears in the forest, not a meet-cute annoying strangers. 
He is Korean if little doodles on his jacket and an accent are saying the truth. You force yourself to get your gaze away from the mask that was covering more than half of his face, black glasses that obstruct the view even more, and messy black hair – the only thing about his appearance that you can actually see. 
Maybe, it’s good that you can’t see his face – you need to get out of here, preferably with a bottle of coke and some other snacks before your friends start questioning why the only person who didn’t want to go is so reluctant about leaving the store. Besides, it’s already almost closing time and you need to gather your thoughts. With a deep sigh, you push the bottle closer to you. 
But this time, he didn’t humor you with softness. He kept it close to himself and suddenly, you are very aware of how much weaker you are than him. You could put up a good fight against a mouse, maybe, a squirrel on a good day – but in this tugging match, you were no, pun intended, match for him. You look closely at his cargo jacket – the patches look official, normal, making you think about the military and what the fuck Korean soldier is doing in the small town somewhere in the rural, touristy-foresty-mountainy part of Austria. 
— Please, sir, it’s getting silly. 
— Yes, it is. Give up now. 
He has that weird calmness in his voice – a low grumble that makes you shiver, the urge to just give up your control and present him your neck like a good pet makes you want to vomit. God, it’s humiliating – you just hope that your friends won’t be here to witness your utter humiliation. 
— I really, really need this bottle. Please? 
You master your best puppy eyes, looking at him with a half-lidded gaze, hoping he has at least a somewhat working and aching heart inside of his lean, muscular chest. The dark glasses of his don’t allow you to see his face clearly, but you can feel how he slowly eyes you from head to toe, slowing down at how much your hands are trembling at the confrontation. 
In a normal situation, you would give up already. But this isn’t a normal situation – you wanted to learn how to be brave, independent, and stand up for yourself in small things, even if your friends still going to swirl you around into making dumb decisions. 
— I was the first to grab it. Why should I give it to you? 
His voice is mesmerizing – you didn’t expect something as deep from a random stranger in the corner shop and here you are, embarrassed, cheeks heated because you want to ditch your friends and look at the random guy you just met. Ah, the tragedy of meeting someone remotely attractive and closer to your age – or at least looking like it – in a mundane place so that the horny thoughts would make room inside your head. 
— Because this would cheer me up really nice, sir. 
You master even puppier eyes – and you lick your lips some more, hoping to elongate the point of how shitty your day was, and how nice it would be, just to have a bottle of coke to cheer you up. Man lets go of a grumpy noise, shaking his head. 
“Fucking tourists” he mutters – and you feel even more embarrassed immediately. If anything, he is probably a tourist too! 
— Sir? So the coke-stealer has manners after all. 
His laugh is dry, and you want to take the bottle and leave – but when you yank it closer, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grabs it even firmer, thin plastic deforms under his touch, and the tactical gloves he is wearing are only empathizing with the vast difference between you and him. 
— I’m not a coke-stealer. I had dibs on this bottle. 
He stares at you, tilting his head to the side. You look stubborn, like an angry little kitten – and, god fucking dammit, Horangi loved cats. Always wanted to get one or two, adorable furballs that would lay on him and Konig, maybe destroy the wildlife around their house. he loved cats and never had time to take care of them because of their combined jobs – so when he looks at this stubborn little woman – little more in her posture than actual size – he feels all the desire to take a kitten home gets straight into his pants. 
He has to find Konig. Ah, and get the bottle back. 
— Dibs don’t matter if you can’t even hold it. So, the bottle is mine. 
— Sir, if anything, this bottle can’t belong to you yet. You haven’t paid for it! 
— You too. 
— But I will. 
— Just as I am. 
He chuckles, more amused than anything. You look angry, you look pissed, you munch on your lower lip nervously because you don’t want this man to walk all over you, but you also really want his – it belongs to the state, actually – coke. So, you yank it one last time, already preparing to give up and drink Pepsi as the loser woman you are. 
Instead, the bottle goes right into your hand with ease – and you fall on your back, losing the connection between your legs and the ground. You prepare to fall and crack your head on the floor, just like a wet kitten of a person you are. 
Instead, you stumble into…something. You want to say that it’s something soft, maybe a snack aisle or the pillows that are being sold in this store for some reason, but this mysterious “something” under your cheek is firm, tense and warm. 
Just like in the worst romantic comedies you ever saw, you are crushed into a broad male’s chest. Don’t mess it up with another man’s broad chest, those are actually two very different individuals and the concentration of pecks on the square meter already makes you feel uneasy. You bite your lips nervously, wanting nothing more but to disappear – you finally have the bottle in your hands and you can swiftly retreat to the cashier on the other side of the shop, but the man behind you stops you. 
— What’s going on, Tigeren? 
Ah, good. The wall of muscles behind you smells of generic male deodorant and something metallic – and has the voice of a Greek god mixed with the most stereotypical Austrian accent ever. Not like you are an expert on accents or voices or tones because you’re not sure that Greek gods would have such high and grumbling voices, but you stand not corrected, drowning in your bad decisions. 
You feel the firm hold on your shoulder gently put you away slightly, as the man comes to touch the asshole’s hand. Softly, gently, you want someone to touch you like this. You lift your gaze from the pair and…
Did you miss a Halloween party with the tough rule of wearing a mask all the time, even when you’re going out to grab some more snacks? You lower your gaze from the man who also wears a generic black mask and dark glasses, your eyes slowly go down to his pants and…
Did you miss a horse-riding party? 
— Some tourist tried to steal my coke. Nothing, Ko. 
— I’m not a tourist. 
You mumble, under your breath. You don’t want to be here – the area suddenly becomes intoxicating, you feel out of place and you want to run away as fast as possible but the only thing you can do is to just strive on, hoping that you’d at least keep your beverage with you. You take a step to the side, hoping to retreat quietly, like a ninja – but they both notice and turn to your side immediately. 
— This is a dangerous place, lady. 
The tall guy – well, they are both tall, but the second one is fucking enormous, towering over the shelves and making you feel insignificant compared to him – grumbles it gently, almost carefully. You are inclined to listen to him, taking up his words like a damned prophecy. You know this place is dangerous – it’s a forest in the mountains of Austria, of course, it is dangerous, you tried to tell your friends this, but…well, to no avail. Useless as usual. 
— I’m aware, thank you. Can I…excuse me, I will leave now. 
— With my coke. 
Korean guy snorts, the clear amusement in his voice. You don’t like the way he emphasizes the point of you stealing it from him – you both are entitled to it, if anything, he is the weird one to think that he has some special dibs for this. The bottle is already warmed up from your combined touches and you groan from the fact – now you will have to choke on the warm cola while all of your friends have fun with their dumb alcohol cocktails and ice cubes and everything you forgot to bring because you were the last one to get here. Because you were the last one they asked to join – feeling like an afterthought, you lick your lips nervously. 
— Of course. The one you wrestled out of my hold. 
— You let go of it, sir. 
— Didn’t want to make a scene with a little thing like you. 
You feel the tips of your ears burning. Oh, how you wanted to punch both of them – the tall one and the slightly less tall one, both chuckling like a pair of grannies on the porch. Like this fucking place needed more bears. 
— You should be careful around these parts. Weird things going around. 
The mountain has spoken again – weird, but all of his phrases feel more like something straight up from a horror movie. Combined with the eerie dim light of the tiny store and his mask, it sent a shiver down your spine. Gosh, you need to watch fewer horror movies and read less terrible dark romance books. You are jumpy, nervous, anxious, everything that doesn’t combine well with a forest trip. 
You take a step back and the blue eyes follow you. When did he take off his sunglasses? Why do they both need sunglasses at night? 
He looks at you and, fucks sake, you stumble into the aisle again. With a bottle of coke in your hand, which isn’t the best weapon in the world, you stumble to the cashier. 
Cold gaze follows you. Oh, how he follows you. 
You nervously bring the coke bottle to the old man behind the counter, listening to the tired German speech – you recognize the numbers, memorize the price of a single bottle, and yet…you feel the eyes glue to your back as you desperately rummage through your pockets. You swear to god that you had cash on you this exact morning – but you go through your pockets, through your backpack, and try to search for maybe some old cents and cards. 
Nothing. 
God, you feel like a failure – embarrassed that you wasted so much time trying to get this bottle only to put it back on the shelf in defeat and…
— On me. Move your ass, tourist. 
The Korean guy notches your side and you glare at him with a mix of anger and shame – he pays for the bottle, probably grinning from how well he taught this annoying as fuck tourist a lesson, and also for the few snacks he bought, probably for himself and his…friend? Boyfriend? 
You move your ass obediently, going out of the store, and your head hangs low in defeat. Your friends are smoking outside, everyone is visibly annoyed with how long it took you only to go out empty-handed. Jenny, one of your girlfriends, a tall brunette with a perfect fucking body that shouldn’t belong to someone in the real world and not 90-era comedies, looks…worried. 
You went to ask her what was wrong, but she shook her head, looking somewhere behind you. 
You stare at the ground, watching as your shriveled shadow from the single-store light swiftly being absorbed by someone’s much larger frame. You gulp, not wanting to look behind you, knowing what – or who – you might want. 
Tall guy with a…coke bottle? Well, you weren’t expecting that. He gives you the bottle and you can almost see the condescending smile on his face as his fingers linger on your hand for longer than they should be. You take the offer, not really understanding what the fuck is really going on. 
— Thank…you? 
— No problem, kleine. 
You can hear the smile in his voice and your hands are trembling. Jenny looks at you with surprise, clearly not expecting nerdy ol’ you to pull someone so…well, not nerdy and maybe old. 
— What the fuck? Who is…
— I’ll explain in the car, alright? 
— Did you drop it or something? 
— I…I think I lost my wallet. Have you seen it? 
She stops for a second, thinking. There are a few things Jenny is good at – burning the tip of her tongue with a lighter, wearing crop tops, eating men alive (unless they are the most annoying ones alive). Lying isn’t one of them – not because she is a good person, but because she would rather flip your shit upside down and make you as upset as she possibly could. 
— Chad took it. Said you’d find the nearest bus to get the fuck out of here if you’d have it. 
He…
You can’t fucking believe this. All this humiliation because her annoying boyfriend didn’t want you to ruin this little unfriendly gathering. You feel angry tears in the corners of your eyes, almost ready to sniffle like the needy thing you are. God, you’re weak and pathetic and…
The Austrian guy behind you coughs, attracting attention. 
— Ladies like you shouldn’t go out this late. Bad things might happen. 
Jenny snorted and you already wanted to close your eyes. She was clearly not having it and she had a very short temper – you take a step back, towards her, hoping to set her down. Instead, she took one look at your pleading expressions, and it made her even more annoyed. She was never good with locals. 
— We’re getting out of this dump as soon as possible, sir. Didn’t ask for your opinion though. 
He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. 
— Just wanted to warn you. Tourists are disappearing around these parts. 
— We’re not some dumb tourists. 
— Ach? You aren’t? 
Jenny fails to hear the amusement in her voice. You tuck the Coke bottle in your arms, hoping that they would stop. 
— We’re not a bunch of dumb tourists and we will call the police if you’d proceed harassing us. 
— Just wanted to give your friend what she forgot. Keep an eye on each other, ja? 
— We will. Fuck off before I’m calling the 9-1-1, verstehen? 
You feel even more embarrassed as she storms off to the truck where Chad and everyone else is staying, not even paying you a glance – too used to your sorry ass going right after her, like a lapdog that your other friend likes to bring everywhere in her tiny pink purse. 
You sigh, feeling horrible. The guy is creepy. Tall, looming over everyone, both of them are fucking terrifying – but they paid for the coke and the Austrian one is genuinely trying to tell you something. A bit paranoid, maybe, but you see the cargo jacket he is wearing, so he is probably either a paranoid survivalist or maybe a part of the military. You like having someone worried about your safety, even in more of a scary horror movie-esque form. 
— I’m…sorry for Jenny. She isn’t always like this, we’re just tired after a long road. 
— You were driving whole day? 
— We’re, um…on a trip. You know, a little getaway in the woods. Would have been nice. 
The giant tilts his head to the side. You just noticed that his hands are twitching a little, fidgeting with the bottom part of his jacket. You find it almost cute, endearing in a way – at least he is as anxious about talking to you as you are to him. You find yourself also fidgeting on the bottle, swirling it in your hands, never understanding what you should do in a somewhat normal social situation. 
— Be careful, kleine Hase. Like I said, it’s a dangerous place for young ladies like you. 
The way he said it, calling you a young lady, made him look extremely old – and made you feel even more embarrassed and uncertain about your future. Here you are, wasting your youth on shitty road trips to Austrian woods instead of reading horror books and watching romance movies. 
— Thank you, sir. I…I’ll keep that in mind. 
— Are you two alone on the trip? 
Alright, it was a bit creepy. his cold blue gaze bores in your face, making you feel small. 
— No, Our male friends are with us. 
He humms, almost sounding amused. 
— Good. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy. 
— Sorry? 
— Wouldn’t want someone bad to hurt you so easily. 
You smile. He is nice, even if a bit creepy – you nod slightly, taking a step towards the truck, since everyone else already got in and you still have a long road to the place of your camp. 
— Thank you for the bottle, sir. 
— You are welcome. Keep yourself safe, ja? 
You nod. 
Keeping yourself safe sure does sound nice. You can do it, right? (You can’t,  but you don’t know that yet)
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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Pairing: dark! Sirius Black x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, dry-humping, yandere themes, non-consensual touching, obsessive and toxic behavior, drugging, don’t read if you’re not comfortable with those things!!!
A/n: this is part 2 to my dark!Sirius drabble, just like promised. Better read it first before starting with this work. Turned out not exactly how I wanted it to be, but it’s better than nothing ig
Sirius has always been handsy, trying to touch you in any possible way at all times. And you almost got used to that, really, but now that you two were officially “dating” his touchiness increased tenfold - it felt like every minute of every day consisted of you swatting away Sirius’ prying hands and him trying even harder to lay them upon your body.
You’d look pleadingly at his friends, eyes watering and bottom lip trembling - Sirius’ behavior was obviously not normal. Remus seemed to understand that too, but still - he did nothing. He’d give you an apologetic look, eyebrows knitted together and corners of his mouth pulled downward in disapprobation, yet still he never intervened. James, as you got to know him better a bit further in your forced relationships with Sirius, was just as sick in his head. Not as dangerous as his best friend was, but certainly just as twisted. You saw how he was with Evans - following her everywhere like a lost puppy (or ravenous beast), suffocating her and everyone around with his heavy presence, attached to her like a chewing gum stuck in her pretty red hair.
So here you were, pressed against the stone wall in empty classroom of a huge castle, where Sirius made sure no one could interrupt you. Sirius’ lips were greedy, devouring you with such longing that made your knees buckle, and if it wasn’t for his thigh delved in between your legs - you’d be on a floor long time ago. Your tried to push at his shoulders, trying to get a boy off of you, but fruitless.
You’ve noticed a few weeks ago that something was off with you - your body became weaker by the day, as if all strength was seeping out of your pores hourly, leaving you a powerless rag barely able to keep up with all your classes. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was happening - Sirius was putting something in your food. You’ve stopped eating in front of him, only having an occasional toast or apple to not attract his attention too much; all the numerous sweets Black has ever given you as a gift ended up straight in trash - you didn’t risk consuming definitely drugged dainties. Madam Pomfrey blamed it all on your nerves and upcoming N.E.W.T.s, ignoring your numerous complains and advising to sleep and eat more. Yet still, continual trembling of your hands and weakness of your legs told that Sirius somehow managed to feed - whatever this shit was - to you, and pretty successfully.
Sirius’ hands snaked their way down your body, resting on your ass unashamedly. You squealed in protest, hitting his upper arms with shaky fists, but to no avail - Sirius just chuckled at your ‘shyness’ into your kiss, giving your butt a loving squeeze.
He forced your hips forward so that your bodies were pressed flush against each other. Sirius exhaled shakily at the feeling of his bulge rubbing against your stomach; he rutted his pelvis a few more times, moaning into your mouth sweetly at the feeling of his throbbing cock humping you through numerous layers of clothing.
- Fuck, I want you so bad, - he murmured softly against your lips, his hot breath hit your face, making you shiver unpleasantly. You gripped his upper arms, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.
- Sirius, please I-
- Shhh, I know, my dearest, I know. But not here. Not like that, - Sirius interrupted you with soft voice, red lips made their way along your jawline and down to your neck, scattering sloppy wet kisses on your skin, making sure to leave marks in all most obvious places.
- You deserve to be lavished, worshipped among finest silks like a princess that you are, not some quick shag on the desk.
You felt his hands moving up you back, caressing your body with tender touches - wide palms glided over your buttocks and up your lower back. One heavy hand came to wrap around your waist, giving it a firm squeeze; the other one followed the path of your spine, softly rubbing in-between your shoulder blades before cupping your nape, craning your head backwards for easier access. Soft wet lips slotted onto yours with such yearning, greedy tongue pushed assertively into your mouth; Sirius moaned as your taste engulfed him once more, he breathed hard and deep through his nose, hand on the back of your head pushed you even further into him.
You couldn’t help a little squeal tearing through your throat at the pressure. A few tears rolled down your cheeks - you were scared to near death; you still couldn’t understand Sirius’ emotional pattern, he was as unpredictable as weather, which only made him more dangerous. You knew he wasn’t all that scared of hurting you. And you were sure he would certainly do so if he deemed your attitude towards him unacceptable. You were scared to try getting him off yourself, especially since he had completely free access to your neck.
- But please, indulge me just this once. You’re driving me absolutely fucking mad, Y/n, I’ve never wanted anyone so bad, - Sirius blabbered, his hips humping against your stomach, strong arms keeping you firmly in place, not giving a single opportunity to inch away.
Sirius grunted and whimpered into your neck, you were sure that it was completely covered in bright hickeys and bite-marks at this point. Black moaned out your name quietly, his hips rutting against you erratically - he was nearing his high.
- I love you, I love you, I love you, fuck… ‘m so fucking close, - he mumbled mindlessly, hot lips pressed aimlessly agains your temple, hands gripping your shaking form as tightly as ever.
With a low growl and final jerk of his hips Sirius stilled; his tense body was trembling slightly, breathing uneven and shallow. He slumped against your smaller frame after a few moments, letting out an airy giggle. He buried his nose deeper into the hair on the side of your head, inhaling lungfuls of your scent.
- Sorry, shit. That was insane. I can use my fingers to make you-
- No, Siri, that’s okay. We’re gonna be late to class, - you interjected, gripping desperately on every opportunity to end all this as soon as possible.
Black-haired only huffed in reply, ducking down to lock your lips in a strong wet kiss. He broke away from you, unraveling his arms from around your body; Sirius did leave one hand on the small of your back though, rubbing your tense muscles with soft touches. His other hand came to fix your hair and askew collar of white uniform shirt, satisfied with the fact that it couldn’t cover all the dark marks he has left on your neck.
After quickly fixing each other’s clothes you hurried out of the classroom and through endless corridors of the castle, finally reaching your destination. Luckily, you came a few minutes before the start of the lesson, so you didn’t have to explain professor the reason of your yet another belatedness. Sirius sat you at the desk at the end of the row, saving himself a seat next to you by dropping his belongings there. He tilted your head up by your chin using his thumb and index finger, placing a what might be seen as loving kiss on the center of your forehead.
- ‘m gonna go clean myself up a bit. I’ll be back in no time, don’t have too much fun without me, ‘kay? - Sirius winked and placed yet another kiss on your forehead. ‘Quite a confidence he has for a guy with pants full of cum’ flashed in your head, but you quickly dismissed this thought.
You noted how Sirius gave a short nod in James’ direction, which, you figured, meant ‘watch over her while I’m gone’. Potter nodded back curtly and with that your “boyfriend” retreated.
You threw a short look around, catching your best friend’s - well, now ex-best friend’s - worried eyes, her eyebrows knitted together in worry as she noted your wet eyes and reddened face. You barely mouthed word ‘don’t’, knowing all too well how vicious Sirius would become if he happened to know about this short interaction between you two. If there was a person Black despised more than Severus, it probably was her - all because she could see right through his bullshit, trying to get you out of that hellhole despite all his numerous threats and blackmail. Her frown only deepened, but she turned away from you nevertheless; you relaxed a bit seeing that James didn’t notice anything.
For now, you were safe. Sirius’ needs were satisfied and he was practically purring with joy, hip pushed into yours as he sat next to you through the rest of your classes and at the great hall, babbling his usual Sirius nonsense. You forced a tight smile on your lips and nodded to his gibberish, your mind relentlessly giving ideas of all the possible nightmares tomorrow’s day may bring.
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖
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esotericpluto · 1 year
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messages from your future spouse
from left to right; intuitively choose the pile you feel more connected to. To make it easier, you can take a deep breathe, close your eyes and ask for guidance to your deities or guides. These are all general messages, so just take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This reading is timeless. If it resonates, feedback is always appreciated and motivates to keep doing pick a card readings.
these are intuitively channeled messages. I also channeled a book and looked at the quotes until I found the one that I intuitively matches your story better.
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pile 1
sunshines, rainbows, picnics, lakes, swans, ducks and bunnies is the energy this pile is giving me. It feels like your future spouse is looking forward to taking you to such dates and it seems like they cannot wait until this becomes a reality as you will be their sunshine.
"It is you and me against the world. You are everything for me, my flower, my castle, my sun, my moon, my world. Never leave me and I'll make you the happiest person in the world. We are in this together and I'll never abandon you. I'll be your lighthouse and guide you and you will be my candle in every unknown path of life. We are one and I can't wait until we marry and have children. I am sure they will have your beautiful eyes. We will me meeting soon, just trust your heart and let go of fear"
"She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance.” – Pride & Prejudice
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pile 2
I feel like your future husband has tendency to act rough and strong, even in moments where they just want to break down and hold onto softness. Strength and resillience become weary and too much of a weight to endure and carry after so long, especially after years of going through so many hardships, difficulties and even traumas. Your future spouse struggles with opening up, with letting someone in, with showing vulnerabity or even some form of weakness.
However, they are telling me, and this is the message for you, that you make them feel like they are safe and taken care of. You are the warmth in their coldest days, you make them feel secure and like they can finally lean on someone, like they don't have to go through everything alone. With you they will learn how to trust, how to break down their barriers, their fears, their deepest worries. They want to give you the world and will defend you and protect you from everything they want. They are definitely the type to be very bold and strong towards other, but a full sweetheart towards you and this is something that will greatly enrich your heart.
I feel like they are telling me that you will also be scared at first as you will feel as if they are going to break your heart. They can assure you they would not, they would rather the whole world ending than your love going away and they will stick to their words and promises. Trust your intuition always.
"The first symptom of true love in a man is timidity, in a young woman, boldness" – Les Miserables
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pile 3
"If we have had many ups and downs, many struggles, many back and forths. I thought I would lose you for real, that I had truly messed up, yet we are here again. You are in front of me, in this altar, in this sanctuary of love, exchanging vows. You made me the happiest person in the world and I can only thank you for that. I am sorry for failing you like I did, I am sorry you had to see the worst parts of myself the way you did and if I could give you the universe to compensate you, I would.
I am glad we could meet again, be together again. I knew our hearts would always find our way back to each other. I saw you in my dreams, I remember you from past lives. Our love was destined and nothing that could have happened could have separated us or changed that. You are my angel, my salvation, my inspiration to become better everyday. You have a shine in your eyes that lights up my smile. Thank you for giving me another chance".
I do not think this is an ex (although, for a minority of you, it is possible). It feels more like someone who you will still meet, have a separation with and find your way back to each other eventually. They seem to have really learnt from their mistakes and will do everything in their power to show that to you.
"Good-bye, till we meet then—I embrace you warmly, warmly, with many kisses. Yours till death." – Crime and Punishment
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abbyromanoff · 1 year
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If possible could you do a enemies to lovers for G!P Kate Bishop x Tracksuit Mafia Fem Reader where reader and Kate are having a fist fight that turns into a sex session that ends with reader becoming pregnant with Kate's baby
They Can’t Know
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Pairings: Kate Bishop x reader
Word count: 2028
Warnings: violence, fighting, mafia’s, Kate has a dick, blowjobs, breeding kink, tummy bulges, daddy kink, praise kink, pregnancy, nicknames, flirty!Kate, small angst
No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!
“Stop fighting me!” The girl, who you found out was named Kate, yelled. She had you pinned down below her, your knees being freed as you took it as your shot to knee her in the stomach. She groaned, the small moment of weakness allowing you to take her arm and pin her down to be in your previous position. You quickly grabbed the knife from your pocket, placing it against her neck as you watched her struggle to escape.
“Please, I won’t hurt you, just let me go.”
“And who said I don’t want to hurt you?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I can tell, Y/N.” Your eyes widened briefly before you relaxed, trying your best to hide any emotions she could use against you. You had never told her your name, but you guessed she had done some research on you beforehand. Smart move.
“I won’t let you kill her. Even if I have to take her spot, I will die protecting her.” She furrowed her eyebrows as the oxygen started lowering in her body. If she didn’t stop you soon, she knew this would be close to her last breath.
“Who is ‘she’ meant to be?”
“Maya Lopez. I’m not letting you near her.” That only confused her more. She wasn’t here for Maya, she was here for someone else. She had yet to know his name, only knowing he lacked a great amount of hair and was on the larger side. He had conversations with her mother, conversations she later learned led to her father's death when she was little.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She struggled to get the words out. You noticed her breath shortening even more and removed your arm from her neck in fear.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Of course, you know! You’re here to kill her.” Kate coughed multiple times and rolled over on the floor, trying her best to gain the little strength she had left in her.
“I’m not here to kill her, I’m here for him.” She grabbed a photo of the man she was after, watching as the gears turned in your head. You let out an embarrassed sigh and stood up, walking over to her and awkwardly offering your hand to help her stand. You could see the red marks staining her neck, the guilt building up even more.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I-I thought-”
“You don’t need to explain yourself, I understand.” There was a small silence filling the area before she released a chuckle. You looked back at her, silently urging her to speak, anything to fill this unpleasant quiet nature.
“These marks definitely won’t be going away for a while.” She noticed your guilt-ridden face and shook her head.
“Don’t feel bad, sweetheart, they’re not that bad.” She said, “If anything, they’re kinda hot.” You laughed at her words, slowly trailing over to her and motioning for her to look up. She did as you asked. You examined her red skin while her eyes couldn’t leave you. She watched the concentration on your face with a smirk, the woman you just beat up was being cared for by you so gently, it was almost as if you hadn’t just choked her out. You finally caught on to her glances and nervously looked back down.
“Don’t look away, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.” She snapped her fingers in front of your face to get your attention back on her.
“Are you seriously trying to fuck me after I just tried to kill you?” You crossed your arms against your chest as she stared at your breasts, they were practically calling her name. She licked her lips and moved her eyesight back to be inline yours.
“Hm?”
“Did you even hear what I said?” She nodded, clearly lying her way out of it.
“Okay,” You started, “Then tell me what I said.” She closed the small space between you two, imagining your plump lips on hers. Your fit body beneath hers once more, but this time, it won’t be due to a fight. Her hand made contact with your cheek, cupping your soft face and pulling you closer until you could feel her breath against yours.
“I think you were saying something about how badly you wanted me to kiss you right now.” She trailed on, not being able to waste another second and connecting her lips with yours in a hurry. Her hands found place on your lower back near your butt as your placed themselves on her chest, slowly going down as the kiss progressed. You could feel her hardened length pressing against your core, begging for any sort of touch.
When it got difficult to breathe you finally released her lips, your eyes widening as you backed away from her lust-filled self.
“Kate, we can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You had just kissed her, practically made out with her and now you were denying it?
“If my boss finds out-”
“Don’t worry about her right now, baby, just think about this.” She could see you debating with yourself on what you wanted to do. You wanted more than anything for her to fuck you, have you make a mess all over her until you couldn’t take it anymore. But you knew the consequences as well. If Maya found out you had slept with someone she had been looking for for nearly 3 years, she’d kill you.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” Your lack of response caused her to continue. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you. I bet you’re such a hard little worker, willing to ruin your wants for Maya’s needs. Are you my good girl, baby?” You nodded breathlessly.
“Yeah, you are. Now why don’t you get on your knees for me, love.” Your knees hit the ground with a small force, your hands trailing to her pants. You cupped her covered length and smiled as you could hear her breath hitch. She smiled and fluttered her eyes shut, your fingers slowly unzipping her jeans until she was left in just her boxers.
“Stop being such a tease and just-”
“Just what, Katey?” Her cheeks reddened at the nickname, you took notice.
“C’mon, Kate, tell me what you want me to do.” You mimicked her words from earlier, chuckling to yourself as she groaned in frustration.
“Just- fuck me already!”
“Now, now, baby, didn’t your mother ever teach you some manners?” She was nearly fed up with you, it wasn’t the time to tease, she was desperate. Her cock was dripping in pre cum as you slowly trailed her boxers down her legs.
“Please, Y/N. Please fuck me.”
“That’s more like it.” Your hands went up and down her hips for a split second before finding their way to her leaking cock. You wrapped it around her length and kissed the head, smiling as you caught the small taste of her.
You made her feel things no woman had ever made her feel. She was in need of more, your mouth wasn’t enough. And when she fucked your face with little to no mercy, she could only imagine how your pussy must’ve felt. Your walls gripping her with dear life as she filled you up until you were dripping.
“Lay down, baby, I need to fuck this sweet cunt.”
“Fucking on a rooftop, real romantic, don’t you think?” Her cock prodded at your hole, her fingers finding their way to your pulsing clit. Her lips attacked yours in a frenzied haze. She couldn’t get enough of you, of your body, of the way you fit so well in her arms.
“My perfect little girl, so pretty you are.” Her free hand went to your nipples under your shirt, pinching and tweaking them until you were squirming beneath her.
“Shh, it’s alright, my love. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.” You nodded, the words trying to escape only failing as the pleasure became unbearable.
“Kate-” You gasped out. “I need you. I need you inside of me.” You cupped her cheeks and made her stare directly into your eyes, her pupils being dilated and blown out. You were just the same, staring at her with a certain want in your eyes.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you your manners, hm?” She mocked, listening to your whines with a grin. You could feel her slowly filling you up, your mouth letting out a gasp before dropping open as moans tumbled out of you. She kissed your forehead, letting her lips linger for a moment too long.
“Tell me when I can move, okay?” She waited patiently as you adjusted to the stretch. You had never felt so full. You knew it was wrong, yet, it felt so sinfully sweet. You prayed nobody would ever find out about this, but you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to consider the consequences, you just wanted her.
“You can move, Kate.” You mumbled out, your hand interlocking with hers as she started a slow yet harsh pace. You bit your lip as the fiery pain slowly faded into one of pleasure.
“Oh, daddy.” You moaned quietly, feeling Kate stop as she rendered what you had just said.
“What did you just call me?” Before you could apologize she continued, “Say it again.” Hearing those words leave your lips was like heaven. She couldn’t help the way she thrusted into you with such force, you drove her insane.
“Please, daddy, please fuck me harder!” Her hand snaked up to your neck, your breath being cut short as she choked you harshly. It was enough to leave a mark to tend to tomorrow, you assumed it was payback to the ones you left on her.
“That’s it, moan for daddy, baby. Be the perfect little slut I know you are.” The coil in her stomach tightened as you clenched around her.
“Fuck! Daddy’s gonna make you a mommy, baby. You want that? You want daddy to fuck you full of my cum?”
“Yes, daddy! Please fill me up, I need it so bad!” She tried her best to warn you, but she failed. Her release shot deep inside of you, filling your tight hole as she stilled. You snapped, the two of you finishing in sync. You scratched down her back leaving red marks behind. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Kate’s hand resting on your stomach as she felt a small bulge. She grasped your hand into her own and placed it on your stomach once more.
“You feel that? You feel how deep I am inside of you?” The euphoric feeling was a long-awaited one. It had been months, almost years since you had felt that good. You didn’t want it to end, but you knew Kate couldn’t be seen near you. So, you soaked in the little time you both had left, holding her against you tightly and not letting go until she had to say goodbye once and for all. Just to be safe, she gave you her number, telling you not to call on your phone but a burner phone in case Maya tracked who you called.
It had been close to a month since that day and it had never left your mind. You’d lay in bed, all alone as you slowly fingered yourself, trying anything to get that same feeling you had with Kate. But as of late, you’d been beyond sick. You had a feeling you knew what it could be, Kate hadn’t worn a condom and while you were on birth control, it didn’t always work. You had called in sick, lucky enough to be granted the day off as you were closer to the boss and she knew how hard you’d been working. The timer went off, and you turned the test over and prepared yourself for the worst.
“Shit.” Two lines. Positive. You were pregnant. And it was Kate’s baby. The woman your boss had been after for years was going to be the mother to your child. What had you gotten yourself into?
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yamisnuffles · 2 months
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I love Aziraphale because he's expected to be hard, to be a warrior, but he chooses to be soft. He's not gentle, kind, and good because he's an angel. We've seen what the other angels are like and many of them are anything but. And there's no doubt that he could be that warrior if he wanted. He was issued a flaming sword, after all. But he gave it away and seemed none to eager to use it when he finally picked it up again. No, he is who he is because he chooses to be that way again and again.
I adore that. In a world that's often so hard and in a system that expects him to be just as hard, he chooses to be soft. To be silly. He learns to dance even though angels don't dance. He learns magic and French the human way. Successful or not, he likes playing parts, living it up as a double agent and newspaperman. He wears glasses because he thinks they're nifty. He enjoys eating food and going to the barber not because he has to but because he likes being pampered. To be fussy and indulgent. Despite strength and miraculous powers, he makes himself vulnerable so that he can be coddled and rescued.
And it's not like it's easy for him. He has to struggle against what's expected of him and against judgment from the other angels. He was worried about doing the wrong thing before the beginning, before there was even really a concept of the wrong thing. He's so terribly anxious but he doesn't let it stop him from trying to do real good. He did his part to save Job's family, even when he was certain he would fall for it.
Most difficult of all, he loves. Is in love. A thing humans do, he says to the Archangels in S2. So that's not just some easy, natural, angelic thing for him. It's very human and very scary because it's not really something he's meant to do and especially not with a demon. But he pushes slowly forward as best he can. He risks small touches and can't help but wear his heart on his sleeve with that all too expressive face. He's the angelic embodiment of heart eyes. Because he wants to love and be loved.
This isn't all he is, of course. He can be bitchy and petty and hard when pushed. He can be the warrior he was built to be. Those aren't bad things. Just enough of a bastard and all that. But just enough also means they also don't define him.
Which is where my frustration comes in. I understand the desire to flip the script sometimes. I like to do it myself from time to time and definitely think Aziraphale should be allowed to take charge. But it feels like, more often than not, large parts of fandom have taken those moments and made them all of who he is. Of the two of them, he's often made to be much more impassive and distant than Crowley. It's Crowley who is more emotional, who is more overcome physically. Despite the fact that it's almost entirely Aziraphale in canon who reaches and touches. Despite Michael Microexpressions Sheen putting so much open heart into Aziaphale's face. He isn't allowed to be soft and needy, comforted, coddled, and rescued. To be the one who yearns and lets himself be weak with it.
Just... let him be soft and silly. Let him be the person he most often chooses to be.
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okthatsgreat · 3 months
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rewording a post i made a while ago just bc it was a bit nonsensical but something that definitely needs to be examined in the danganronpa fandom is how a lot of characters seem to be interpreted through one single lens of intelligence. does that make sense. like in order for a character to be “smart” in this fandom they SPECIFICALLY need to be book smart and well spoken, regardless of their talents. we gotta shape up guys .. examining other types of intelligence is FASCINATING and really highlights each characters strengths and weaknesses, and this especially applies to emotional intelligence.
like is byakuya smart? absolutely. but is he emotionally intelligent? fuck no!!!! and aoi used that against him in chapter four!!!!!!!! and even though she is misguided as all hell, tenko has the ability to understand her opponent mid-battle and use that to determine how she continues the fight (likely something other fighting ultimates do as well!!!) which is crazy. mikan is able to read facial expressions well, even if she IMMEDIATELY misinterprets this as something she personally did wrong lol. these characters navigate through the killing game differently and in some cases survive because of it, and if you want something interesting to write on it’s definitely something to be examined!!!
also straight up sometimes the fandom interprets characters who don’t speak super formally/are optimistic as dumb too which is so strange. more of the “buff” talents like mondo and fuyuhiko need to understand battle tactics and serious team management/planning in order to get anywhere in their field, but are pushed aside quite a bit because theyre these super gruff macho characters that swear a bunch. sonia as well because she's a fish out of water type of character. and yes he isn’t very well spoken and is very trusting but gonta is an actual scientist guys… i could make a whole separate post about this weird trend of pessimism being seen as smart and optimism as stupid but yeah seriously
anyways all this to say, when writing for a “dumb” character take a step back and ask just what makes them dumb in your eyes. is it because they aren’t considered academic or a scholar?? is it because they’re a “happier” character that might not be as well-spoken?? theres nuance there and this obviously doesn't apply to all of them, like clearly akane isnt super good with emotions or smarts in general, but even THEN her spacial awareness and heightened sense of perception is something that is often under-utilised in fics!! it provides a whole lot of depth to remember that a lot of danganronpa characters are very talented and well versed in other forms of intelligence than what might be most obvious !!!!!
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c4ttheart · 18 days
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okkotsu yuta x gn!reader, 1.7k wc.
based on prompt ; "you’re in love with me." "you just found out ?"
reader is kinda weird tbh, i would not fw them, yuta is so awkward and in love, i love him, weird dynamic idk, confession but not really. maki is ooc. written for @daosies !
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it’s not often students at jujutsu tech get to have a day off. you think it’s abnormal, to overwork teenagers even if it is for the greater good. so when you do find yourself free from the shackles of the overwhelming school, you do not hesitate to leave and explore Tokyo. unfortunately for yuta, that means he has to come with you.
unfortunate is a bit of a stretch, but he likes to tell himself that his personality is not completely attached to yours and he doesn’t like following you wherever you go. it’s alright though, that’s what best friends are for. (at least, he thinks so- he doesn’t really know, it’s been a long time since he had a best friend.)
you don’t even have to ask for him to come with you. he just does. he knows you guys do not have anything tomorrow, so when you scroll aimlessly on your phone and say "oh hey, it’s sales season." he just smiles from his end of the common room couch and looks at the itinerary. "okay" he whispers back, and you smile too. you do not worry about anything, because yuta probably already has everything planned, except your budget. you’ll think about that later. you like to ponder on the possibilities only when they’re right in front of you.
one thing you hate about the school is how far it is from civilisation. the train is agonisingly long, and the nearest train station is so far away you fear you do not feel your feet anymore. it’s alright though, the excursion is worth it and yuta carries your bags because otherwise you’ll complain about how sore your arms feel. he thinks you’re lucky, he has collected an increasing amount of physical strength due to maki’s training. if your muscles are weak, although he does not mean it in a bad way, that means you have not gone through the torture he was put through.
he likes you, so so much. and his heart throbs whenever you smile and take pictures with him, because all of this feels like something he could get used to. it feels like he could live this way forever and forget about the truth of the world he lives in. you’re happy, he notes, because if you weren’t, then the negativity of the people around him would be noticeable. but it isn’t, because you have a way to make all bad things disappear. and if you’re happy, that means you’re enjoying yourself. with him. and that is enough to make him happy too.
"yuta, crepes." you mutter as you point to whatever has your attention. he does not respond, he just follows, with that giddy smile on his face as if he had just gotten engaged. and it doesn’t matter if, for whatever reason, he disliked banana before, because now as you savour your crepe and offer it to him so he can take a bite, he thinks that nothing has ever tasted more wonderful than this.
(it takes everything in him not to turn beet red at the fact the two of you just shared an indirect kiss.)
it’s late when you return to campus. you’re tired, and exhausted, and you don’t think your feet (and wallet) have ever hurt this much. you say goodbye to yuta with a small wave and he smiles, his cheeks still slightly dusted pink from the fact that your hand brushed his when you took your bags back.
maki is sprawled out on your bed when you arrive. she does that often, claiming the connection is better in your room than hers. you know she likes your presence though, not toge’s, not panda’s, not yuta’s (and definitely not gojo’s), yours. you don’t understand why, unless she appreciates the silence and indifference you give to her. she’s your friend, of course, but that is just the way you are with everyone. except for yuta. you do try and keep the conversation going with him a little more than usual, but that’s different, because he’s your best friend.
yuta is your best friend because he does not complain. you like that about him, how he understands you without much words. you like how he knows what you like and complies. you like how he does not prod, and how he speaks for you to the cashiers. maybe you sound like a dictator, according to maki, but yuta does not seem miserable, so you don’t say anything.
"how was your date with that slave of yours ?" she asks, shutting her phone off to look at you. you frown.
"get off my bed. i sleep there. your clothes are dirty." you reply, organising the stuff you brought. it cannot wait until later, because if it does, you will simply not do it.
she shrugs, although a ghost of a smile is present on her face. you did not push her off this time, and that much is enough.
"you seem less cranky than usual. oh, i know-"
"i’m not usually cranky." you speak as you glance to her again. she’s sitting criss crossed, and although she is still on your bed, the covers are pulled up. you supposed that’s alright.
"yes, yes you are." you roll your eyes at her statement. you will not deny her her delusions, everyone is allowed to dream. "did he finally confess his undying love to you ?" she half snorts, and you already know she is ready to text toge your answer, considering how she pulled her phone back out.
you shake your head slightly, indicating her that no, he did not do whatever she thought he would, because that’s absurd. because, "we’re best friends." you answer.
maki frowns. "but he likes you."
oh. you think, what ? okay. you hum, okay.
the green haired girl leaves your room with a smile on her face and when you touch your cheeks you realise that they are hot. oh.
and you notice that you cannot stop thinking about him now. and whenever you do, your chest tightens. oh.
maybe, you think, you do like yuta too.
oh.
the next few days are quiet. you do not speak. oh, oh, and oh’s are all that you let out. suddenly, you are hyper aware of everything. everything yuta does. everything yuta says. everything yuta wears. and oh, you do not like that. you liked caring about nothing other than yourself. maybe, if you let him go, then everything will go back to the way it was. that sounds good, right ? but then again, you do not want to let him go. what will happen to yuta if he also stops to care about you ?
that does not matter right now. you will face the consequences later. you always do. and so you become quieter, if that is even possible. but yuta has always been an exception. yuta will always be an exception, and that worries you because you find yourself humming and nodding to whatever he says instead of just saying ‘oh’.
even though you do not have a plan to follow, you know that this is not a part of it. so you stop smiling to him. and then you stop nodding. then, finally, you stop humming too. and somewhere in between you forget to say ‘oh’. you forget to answer at all.
"(name)," he says, one breezy afternoon. you turn to look at him, but you do not hum.
he sits down besides you, on the cool stone stairs leading to the field. he shivers slightly, and you look back ahead. he watches you with that type of longing. you are not looking at him. you are looking at the horizon. something bigger. something unattainable. he repeats your name slowly, until your gaze is fixated on him again. he feels safer this way. he feels seen. this is all yuta has ever wanted, so he smiles.
"what’s wrong ?" he asks, tentatively.
you stare at him some more. nothing beneath those colourful eyes of yours. you like it when he cares about you, so you have to suppress a smile. "you’ve been avoiding me." yuta adds. "oh." you answer.
he lets out an awkward laugh, and when his eyes scan your face again before meeting yours you understand he’s asking why. it’s odd, to know you can read him too without words. oh, you think. you blink.
"you’re in love with me." you state. he blinks too, although incredibly faster, and you swear you’ve never seen him this red, as he tries to hide his face between his hands.
someone snorts very loudly from behind, and you cradle your neck to be able to see who it is. "you just found out?" panda hollers, gasping for air in between laughs. you should have known yuta would have not come alone. he is too scared of confrontation to talk to you himself. he buries his face even deeper in between his palms, wishing for nothing more than to carve his eyes out because if he doesn’t he might start crying.
panda runs away, still wheezing, as he exclaims something along the lines of having to tell toge. you shrug. yuta sniffs.
"i-i’m sorry. i understand if you never want to see me again, i should’ve known that-" yuta’s rambling is cut short when you lower his hand back down to the cement to place your own over his. he sniffles some more.
your heart aches, and you think oh, you do not like to see yuta cry. specifically not because of you. and you know that you should not be doing this because it is not what was supposed to happen but it’s okay, because there was no plan to begin with. after all, you like to ponder on the possibilities only when they’re right in front of you.
you smile at him, tentatively, before entwining your pinky with his. "it’s alright. stay."
and this time, yuta is the one to think oh, because he understands what you mean. maybe he does not understand why, but he shall ask you (or not) another time. for now, he lets the wind dry his tears and your head lay stiff on his shoulder. he wants to laugh at your awkwardness, but he decides against it. it is not his place to laugh. so he intertwines your fingers with his, and smiles back.
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forestdeath1 · 2 months
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Canon Sirius through quotes
Part 1. Appearance
In the canon, he's described as handsome 3 times from Harry's point of view - but never pretty. By the way, Harry has only described four people as handsome (+ Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory and Gellert Grindelwald).
"Sirius was tall and handsome. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face."
"Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Harry had ever seen it alive."
"Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so."
"Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James’s nor Harry’s could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn’t seem to have noticed."
"He's still handsome, isn't he, even after Azkaban?" (Tonks about Sirius, Pottermore)
So, Sirius was handsome, but definitely not pretty. The word handsome can be used for all genders, highlighting attributes like strength, elegance, or a more classic form of beauty.
His height is described as tall several times. James is described as the same height as Harry in the Deathly Hallows, meaning at the time of his death James was as tall as Harry in the 7th book: “James was exactly the same height as Harry”. He was described as tall in later books but not as tall as other characters like Dumbledore, Ron, Sirius, Draco, Tom Riddle, Bill.
In England, as in most Western countries, a man is usually considered tall if he is over 6 feet. Typically, very tall is considered to be 6 feet 3 inches and above. So, James could be somewhere from 6 to 6'3", and Sirius taller, say 6'3"-6'4", Remus possibly under 6', but not short, since Harry doesn't note his height at all.
"To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at his inclusion in this coolest of gangs, with the much admired rebels that James and Sirius had been."
The average head length of an adult, regardless of gender and age, usually about 8.7 to 9.8 inches. So, Peter was noticeably shorter.
6'3"-6'4" is indeed very tall. (When fanon gives Remus a height of 6.7, I wonder, have you often seen such giants in real life? My granddad is 6'8" – and he's huge to me, frighteningly so.)
After Azkaban and in the fifth book, he has long hair, but in the fourth book, when Sirius is doing well and is relaxing somewhere in the south, he has short hair.
"Sirius looked different – the hair was short and clean now, Sirius’ face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph Harry had of him, which had been taken at the Potters’ wedding."
"Sirius, when he still had short hair" (Moody about Sirius in the Order of the Phoenix photo)
Though in the story about Sirius and James for the auction, Sirius had long hair in 1977:
"The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter’s guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend."
I prefer him with long hair, so that's usually what I go with.
Build isn't described. We know Regulus was definitely smaller than Sirius, but nothing specific about Sirius himself.
"Regulus was instantly recognisable as the boy sitting in the middle of the front row: he had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter and rather less handsome than Sirius had been."
His animagus form is a bear-like dog of huge size, but that’s a weak argument.
"The enormous, bear-like dog bounded forwards."
Perhaps canonically Sirius was naturally inclined to muscle (i.e., tall and muscular rather than lanky, because lankiness usually suggests skinniness. Regulus, likely, was lanky), but since he probably didn't engage in activities like workouts, he wasn't exactly buff. Muscles don't just appear out of thin air, but some people are naturally more muscular. Basically, a normal build that doesn't need any special description (not bulky, not skinny, just normal, but tall).
He definitely doesn’t have any tattoos described, but it's unlikely Harry would have inspected every part of his body for tattoos... So, I don’t quite get it when someone says "Sirius didn’t have tattoos". It's a blank slate.
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howyouloveyourdragon · 3 months
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Hi there, I absolutely adore you and love your writing and I'm excited that you're writing for jace now.
If it's okay, could I please request the prompts sleepy - number 44.
Have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening 💖💖
hi there! thank you so much, you have no idea how sweet you are for sending such a polite ask, and for your prompt “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” by thelonelyempath!
i definitely put you up high on my priority list for being so kind lol your message made my day
i also just really enjoyed writing this, it got me back into my groove.
have an amazing morning, afternoon, evening yourself and here you go, please let me know if you enjoy it! <3
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No Rest For The Dragons
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Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x reader Setting: During The Dance of The Dragons Summary: All is quiet but no sense of peace can be caught between your fingertips, not even at night and so it is difficult to find sleep. Not until you win the war and crown your prince victorious...Your betrothed, Jacaerys, seems to have other priorities. Warnings: Brief talk of war dividers by: saradika wordcount: 1,412 
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A yawn tumbled past your lips with ease and a quiet whine quickly followed. Jacaerys Velaryon had never found anything more sweet in his entire existence but he wouldn’t tell you that…not yet at least. His eyes flickered over your sleepy face, the squished cheeks and rumbled hair. It made his heart throb, a desperation took hold to tighten his chest and squeeze. Slowly, he tucked his lower lip between his teeth and bit down. He could barely contain himself from cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss to those lips. His sleeping beauty…his beautiful briar…he would need to bring you a rose soon just for the sake of it because he never did think there was a world in which you were not his Aurora. Some universe in which he didn’t long for you. The backs of his fingers carefully caressed your face. The skin was so soft–practically begging for him to lay upon his gentle pecks of devotion–and yet he restrained himself. You may be his betrothed but you are not yet his wife. He must recall that, if he is to keep your honour…A grunt peeked through his teeth at the thought. The thought that anybody could see you as anything less than a guide of honour and duty as you fought at his side, on his very dragon with a bow and arrow within your hands. A quiver danced along the prince’s bones. He may think you to be beautiful in any state but he would gladly gift upon you anything you so much as dreamed or desired if you were to allow that to be his final sight. His last. The sight of you upon Vermax and casting down the enemy. 
A smile flittered his lips as you stirred and stretched in his lap. “No, no go back to sleep.” He cooed, brushing back your hair and placing a wet flannel at your forehead. You were in your gentlest state this eve. You fended off his hand like a weak squirrel to reluctant avail. “Rest my love. You must rest.” The whine escapes the seam of your mouth before you can escape it. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” You practically taunt with your eyelids finally parting to peer up at him. As much as he wants to scoff and argue, he cannot help but smile down at the soft albeit exhausted face. Amusement laces his face but he lets his brow pinch. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to allow that.” You send a pointed look his way. “You would deny your wife?” “You would deny your prince?” He counters with playfulness and yet something excites him about the way ‘wife’ leaves your lips. How smoothly it goes…It only reminds him of how long he has deprived himself of kissing them. Of feeling the sweet flutter of lightning that would passes over your skin. His hand would dance throughout your hair, he was sure of it, sure that one the day of your wedding, he would summon all the strength he had been willing himself to retain and finally let go. He would deny himself for centuries if it meant you would let him bind himself to you for eternity–if you would let him vow until his throat dried up. If they were not to be his final words, he would repeat them until they were destined. He would be yours, he was sure of it. He does not say this of course as you sigh with a pointed stare. 
It was the determination in your gaze that he adored above all. That very crinkle in your brow that arose whenever anybody were to question you. His throat bobs as he recalls how his hand would slide along to the small of your back–support from the true prince and heir of the iron throne–delighting as you took the lead. Happy to await your debates cease as you charged your mouth at any who claimed your position unfit. None of these men knew the battlefield as you did. None of these men had studied the art so intensively for this very moment. None of these men would protect him like you did, he was sure of it. And certainly none of them had helped teach him the ways of battle so that he could protect his own hide should something go askew. Now as he watches you, he lets his eyes wander along the small scars upon both your hands at such teachings. Your childhood together had been an entertaining ordeal; scars of book pages, scars of dragon mishaps, scars of blades…He wouldn’t trade those tiny indents for the world. He would not even trade for the oncoming victory of his mother’s crown. He would not. 
Instead, Jacaerys’ breath hitches but he does not complain at your defiance. He welcomes it. “My darling, you must rest if you are so determined to fight beside me.” His words are teasing but the plummet of hardness cannot be unheard. He had always been serious. “I cannot allow myself the sight of injury should you–” His throat bobs but you hardly change your mind. “It could cause injury to you should I not properly plan our route.” The retort jumps from your tongue and he can tell this has been boiling for some time now, that the bubbles were ever-present. You’ve been locking this inside your mind for too long now. Far too long. His curled fingers glide down your cheek before stopping at your chin. He lifts it as delicately as he would a broken leaf and gazes sweetly into your eyes. “You can do this well rested. We have time.” “But what if–” “We have time.” He reassures you with the confidence of his ancestor, King Jaehaerys The Wise. Your shoulders slump reluctantly. You should trust him, you know you should–you are so very tired but the night is still relatively young and the troupes must still be waiting outside for you. Jace catches as your eyes track the opening of the tent and he is quick to soften you. “I told them we would resume our meetings tomorrow. You will not miss a thing, my sweet. I swear it to you.” His gentle kiss presses to your temple–one of the few acceptable places he can express such affections. When he pulls himself back, he lingers. Tentative, he waits. His eyes flicker to yours with unabashed uncertainty. “But first you must swear to me that you will rest.” Heat floods your cheeks but you have never shied away from eye contact before and you refuse to do it now. His eyes close and his breath fans over your lips. “Swear it to me.” He repeats through the air of a whisper. “I swear it.” You utter just as quietly, curling your palm around his hand and pressing a long, warm kiss to the knuckles. Jacaerys would be lying if he said that it was not a relief. He could not remember the last night you slept in where you did not awaken suddenly and draft a new strategy. That you did not recall a new route. One that needed your immediate and unrestrained attention. 
And so as the night calls out for you, your soon-husband’s arms slip around you and one loops beneath your legs until he can haul you against him. His breath stutters as he inhales the scent of your hair. His lashes flutter against one another and he takes a few steady steps through the tent. Loving each other had taken its time. It had taken screaming arguments, jealousy, rekindling…but it had also taken laughter and warmth and kindness. Kindness that neither of you thought to be deserved. It had taken the darkest eves and the most golden mornings. He settles you on the plush mattress this night, and brushes back the uncomfortable strands of hair that cling to your skin. Your neck, your face, even the petals of your lips. He cannot blame them for craving your closeness. He hesitates as you close your eyes and your back squirms into place. For only one moment more, he lets himself take in a portrait of your rest. Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, Son of Rhaenyra and future King of the Seven Kingdoms accepts that he craves for nothing but your warmth. He intends to keep you as safe as this every eve, every nightfall. 
One sleepless night after the next, he shall be your rest. 
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
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Reader going from being Gojo's lover to being his worst enemy part l
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reder (18+)
Word Count: 2,6k
Synopsis: You were always the perfect girlfriend for Satoru Gojo: innocent, quiet and weak. Until something inside you snapped. Until you decided you don't want to be weak anymore. Until you realized that Satoru Gojo isn't your lover, but your enemy...
Warnings: big ass tw for anyone who isn't into dark reader, smut in Geto's part (you will be warned in the fic), reader going absolutely crazy, cheating, language, violence, Gojo is a bit of a jerk in this, couldn't bring myself to proofread so excuse spelling mistakes
Notes: I know you guys wanted this in one part but honestly, I've been so depressed these last weeks that I simply wasn't able to write that much. I thought one part is better than nothing though and I hope I'll be able to post part ll within the next days 🤍 If you don't mind, let me know what you think, your support means so much!
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“(y/n), are you alright?”
“There’s absolutely no reason to go this hard on her, jerk.”
You stare into the blue sky above, hating yourself for the way your eyes start to sting in tears, for how weak you are. No, not again. Don’t cry in front of all of them because of something so minor. But no, this isn’t something minor.
He beat you again.
“If you want to get better than rank 4, you have to try harder, babe”, your boyfriend jeers at you.
How many times did he say that already? You lost count a long time ago. It’s a miracle that you’re still alive, given the fact that Gojo Satoru seems to lose his patience with you more and more.
No wonder. After all, you are his girlfriend. How is it even possible for the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time to have a girl of rank 4? You’ve been stuck with your poor abilities since joining jujutsu high, only able to sneak into training because your parents are friends of the Gojo clan.
It shouldn’t surprise you. Your life has always been like this: useless and puny. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you train, you’ll never be as good as Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. You are nothing more than their shadow, doomed to watch them from the side-lines.
“Hey, are you alright, (y/n)? That looked pretty rough”, Suguru interferes gently while helping you to get up on your wobbly legs.
“You can at least say sorry, y’know? There was absolutely no reason to beat her this hard when she’s already down”, Shoko barks towards your boyfriend.
“Oh don’t worry babe, there isn’t enough space for two legends in this relationship anyway”, Satoru jokes while wrapping his arm around your clearly bruised shoulder tightly.
Even though all you want to do is cry and hide, you force a smile onto your lips. Yes, this is what you always do. Staying by his side, looking pretty and innocent while smiling kindly. Maybe this is your purpose in life, maybe this is everything you could ask for. Many girls are getting blue over the fact that Satoru is your boyfriend. You aren’t in the position to ask for more power, for the strength to stand up for yourself. So many people would kill for a life like yours.
You should be thankful.
Right?
…Right?
-the mission-
“I’m here to save you again, (y/n)! Hey, are you cryin’?”
You hate the way hot tears stream down your face, body too weak to fight against the debris that buried you.
“If I was crying, would you console me? I’d definitely like that”, you hear Mei Mei purr from the other side
“Oh you wouldn’t cry Mei. You’re strong.”
“Hey, how dare you to talk about (y/n) like that!?”, Utahime cries out.
Your mind goes blank, body sinking into the dirt.
“Oh, you wouldn’t cry Mei. You’re strong.”
Those words. Those oh so cruel words repeat themselves over and over in your mind. He surely didn’t mean it like that, didn’t wanted to hurt you. After all, Satoru just wants to look out for you, he’s always there to help you out. His words shouldn’t hit you with full force, you shouldn’t feel this burning inside your chest, your hands shouldn’t start trembling.
You let out the shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, eyes staring into distance. But they do and force a stinging feeling up from deep within along with one single thought.
You have enough.
Enough of smiling kindly all the time. Enough of letting others push you around and pick on you. Enough of even Satoru making fun of you. Enough of being nothing but his innocent girlfriend to the world. Enough of all the fighting, all the hiding.
For the first time in forever, you don’t force a smile onto your lips but furrow your eyebrows instead. You are…more than that.
“Don’t listen to that guy…”, you hear Utahime mumble next to you while she frees your body.
As if in trance, you follow her back up, the new feeling you just discovered tickling underneath your skin.
“She knows I didn’t mean it like that. Right baby?”
But instead of hearing the usual low “yes” coming from your lips immediately, you just stand there and stare at him before turning on your heels and leaving.
Satoru’s eyes widen. You. Leaving him standing in the rain?
“Did you hear me say something to you, babe?”, he shouts after you.
You don’t even hear him anymore, blood rushing through your ears. No more excuses, no more playing the victim, the lover. Your hands are still clenched into tight fist while you leave without turning your head.
That’s enough.
“I’m…more than that”, you mumble to yourself while staring at your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror.
You just need to work even harder, train yourself even better, change your mindset. No, you aren’t only Satoru Gojo’s girlfriend. You are powerful as well, you can feel it tickling in your fingertips.
So you worked your ass off in silence. Trained when nobody was watching, read countless books, started to introduce you to yourself.
“Beat you again!”, Satoru announces proudly while you let him throw your body into the air.
But something inside you stops you from letting all that progress show on the surface. You force the usual small smile onto your lips, let your boyfriend treat you like the dirt underneath his shoes. Over and over, without anybody noticing that something has changed.
No, you aren’t the little (y/n) they all know anymore. You are so much better than that, so much stronger than what they see in you.
Your fingers dig into the sides of the sink until it bursts under your lilac touch. Fuck this whole jujutsu high, fuck the way they all smile down at you. Fuck the way Satoru sees you as nothing but his personal toy. A maniac grin creeps up your face, violent laughter shaking your body in the middle of the night while you stare into your own stone-cold eyes.
This ends right here and now. And you will show them when the time is right.
-next week-
Will surprise Suguru this evening for his birthday. Try not to get killed while I’m gone. Love ya &lt;3
You huff to yourself, the arrogance dripping from your boyfriend’s text message almost unleash your powers in the middle of your dorm.
No, you need to get a hold of yourself at least a little longer. After all, a few more hours won’t hurt over the fact that you went through this for over 4 years by now.
But today, you will make Satoru Gojo pay for the countless times he made fun of you. Today, you will wipe that cheeky grin off his face.  Oh, how much you long for the moment when reality hits him with full force, when he finds out what your capable of.
How will he react when he finds out that you, a grade 4 sorcerer, are able to use hollow purple before he does? How will he react when he finds out his girlfriend fucked his best friend before disappearing into thin air and becoming his worst enemy? You worked on this plan for so long, replayed it over and over in your head. But now it’s time. Today, you will make the whole jujutsu world pay for all the things they did to you.
With a satisfied grin, you pull the exquisite pair of stockings you just bought for this exact moment up your legs, looking at yourself in the mirror. Oh, those black dessous definitely suit you well. Perfect for seducing the best friend of your boyfriend.
You put a simple dress on and get going. Well, is it necessary to fuck with Suguru? Absolutely not. You could just disappear right here and now and continue your plan. But where would be the fun of it? Just the thought of seeing that look of horror on Satoru’s eyes when he realizes you aren’t the girl he knows anymore, him not only losing his girlfriend, but his best friend as well. He deserves a little pain for all the things he said to you, for the countless times he made you feel worthless.
Exactly 30 minutes left until Satoru will arrive at Suguru’s doorstep as well. 30 minutes to seduce your boyfriend’s best friend, 30 minutes that will change your life forever. Are you ready to let go of the sweet and innocent girl you were, the easy life you had in the eyes of others as Satoru’s girlfriend without any power?
“Hell yes”, you mumble to yourself, heart almost beating out of your chest while you knock against his door.
Geto was always a true sweetheart, the one who always stood up for you even against Satoru. His oh so charming smile, his inviting hands, his character made of pure gold. He really doesn’t deserve what comes next.
But power demands sacrifice and pain. Maybe he’ll understand.
As soon as he opens the door, you crumble in front of him and cry. Crocodile tears stream down your face in rivers, shaky hands covering your face.
“(y/n), what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you? Come on, get in!”
His hand is placed on your back and pushes you softy into the middle of the room. Instead of saying another word, he simply wraps his inviting arms around you.
“Satoru…”, you mumble.
You can clearly see the way his jaw tenses. It’s nothing new to Suguru to see you cry because of his best friend. Geto told him over and over to treat you better, to not be so rough, to look after you in a caring way. And even though he always admired how well you kept your composure, moments like this one happened once in a while.
Nothing noticeable, right?
You burry your head against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck. Oh, you never noticed how tight his muscles are, how trained he is underneath that wide uniform.
Time to take it off.
“I can’t take it anymore, Suguru”, you cry it.
Well, at least this isn’t a lie. Before he’s able to stop you, you press your lips against his. Suguru feels so different, tastes sweeter than Satoru with a hint of mint. Your hands cramp around his neck, force him to stay in place while he looks at you with his eyes widen.
“(y/n)…Please stop”, he breathes out.
Stopping? Why does he press his body against yours, then? Why do his lips start to move against yours in sync, his eyes slowly but surely fluttering shut? Suguru always held a special place for you in his heart.
And you’ll use this spark of weakness against him.
“I can’t”, you mutter against his lips while pushing him towards his bed.
He grabs your hips when you force him to sit down on his bed, dark eyes gazing up at you like in trance.
“We can’t…(y/n), this is wrong in so many ways, Satoru is my best friend-“
“I am your friend too”, you interrupt him, hand gliding up and down his chest.
“I heard it when you said that Satoru doesn’t deserve me.”
He lets out his breath, whole body tensed up like stone underneath your merciless touch. You let yourself glide onto his lap, let yourself fall onto his already rock-hard erection. No, there’s absolutely no doubt in the fact that Suguru wants you.
And that your plan will work.
“I always wanted you more. You were always so good to me, Suguru. Now let me be good to you”, you hush oh so innocent.
His eyes roll into his skull, a pained expression painted on his face while he fights for what seems like dear life underneath your merciless touch. Your words do things to him he’d never dare to speak out. Damn, Satoru is his best friend, you’ve been his girlfriend for over 4 years and right now, you’re sitting on his lap. Right now, he can’t help but imagine you underneath him while groaning his name into his ear with your sweet voice.
“Fuck”, he hisses through gritted teeth, arms pushing you harder against his pants.
Your hips start to move on their own, sensitive spot rubbing over and over against him until your wetness covers his clothes delicately, a low groan escaping his lips before he can stop himself.
Enough of that. Without thinking twice, you unzip his pants and push them down his muscular legs, heat radiating through your whole body. This is absolutely hot, so exciting that you almost come from the sheer thought of fucking Suguru. But what excites you even more is that Satoru might walk through this door every given minute in order to surprise his best friend…
“Suguru”, you moan into the thick air as soon as his fingertips brush over your clit.
“(y/n)”, he growls against your ear, head hidden against your neck.
“(y/n)…”
Your heart skips a beat, fingers digging deeper into Suguru’s skin. Yes, this is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment you’ve begged for. As if in slow motion, you turn your head around.
There he stands, bright blue orbs widen in horror while he stares at you and Suguru.
“Didn’t expect you here”, you lie, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.
Elegantly, you get up from Suguru’s lap and put your panties up.
“(y/n)…you….you fucked my best friend”, the white-haired boy breathes out.
“I need to make an announcement.”
His numb eyes dart towards you. You, the girl he loved for over four years. You, the cute and innocent (y/n) he was always proud of, the girlfriend literally any guy could ask for. You…you aren’t capable of something like that. You can’t even stand up for yourself and now…Now you’re fucking his best friend?
“See this as my first act of revenge for all those years you pushed me around like the dirt underneath your shoes, Gojo.”
The way you spit his last name at him almost sweeps him off his feet.
“What the hell are you talking about? I was always good to you and you…you just fucked my best friend”, he shouts, the numb undertone in his eyes changing into pure rage.
“Good to me? You treated me like a hamster, like your weak little pet. But let me tell you, I’m not that weak girl you taught me to be anymore.”
Roughly, you grab his wrist, light the whole room purple.
“(y/n)…”, you hear Suguru breathe out behind you.
“This can’t be true.”
Satoru’s free hand yanks towards your body, aims for control all over again. It has always been like this. Gojo, who thinks the world belongs exclusively to him. Gojo, who thinks he can treat you like a price. Gojo, who thinks you can’t live without him.
“Don’t you dare to touch me ever again”, you purr at him, escaping his grasp with ease while pushing him so hard that he stumbles backwards.
“You aren’t my boyfriend anymore. From now on, you are my enemy. And I’ll never let you forget about that, Gojo Satoru.”
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greyskyflowers · 8 months
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I want a really specific Luffy/Sanji/Zoro fic where it's focused on how Zoro is probably not able to be numbed or knocked out.
I want to do a post at some point about how Nami, Usopp and Zoro are the humans of the crew. The ones without devilfruits, no genetic stuff, and completely human.
You can absolutely argue that Zoro has whatever the fuck is going on with the demon stuff but until that's clearly discussed I'm going with the human thing.
Back to Luffy/Sanji/Zoro.
I'm really sold on the idea that Zoro burns through numbing and pain medications like it's nothing.
He can be knocked out or made completely numb but it requires a unreal amount of medication, enough that the amount is usually unavailable or risks overdosing him and making him very sick.
So, how many times has Chopper had to dig out shrapnel and bullets while Zoro was completely aware and felt everything?
Or stitched him up while Zoro held the skin together for him?
How many times has Chopper had to rebreak bones that had healed wrong if they were separated for a period of time and Zoro didn't set it right?
How about cauterizing wounds?
Concussions?
Blood loss?
What it he needed surgery because of a wound, and Chopper had to cut into him without being able to numb him at all?
Oooooof
I fully believe Chopper has had to do some of those. However, when Zoro is too out of it, or it hurts to much to not jerk away or fight back... I think Luffy and Sanji would have to hold him down. The only two with enough strength to get him still enough that Chopper can do what needs to be done without worry.
Robin could be added to that, I think. I like to think Zoro and her have a strong friendship and she's seen enough shit to know sometimes things have to be done even though it sucks.
What sounds does someone make in a situation like that? How much can the human body take?
If he was out of it enough, would he plead with Luffy to let him up? He would absolutely call for Luffy when everything hurts and I'll die on that hill.
It would be a blessing if he passed out but how long would he be passed out? Just long enough for everyone to breathe before he was awake again and struggling?
Is it worse when he's quiet? Awake but so exhausted he can't even try to jerk away?
The rest of the crew hearing everything but knowing better than to go try to help.
Having to act like they can't all hear anything and desperately hoping that Zoro passes out soon.
And Zoro is Zoro. No one really talks about it. They're all aware, of course, but Zoro never brings it up or complains.
He's actually really good at holding still, clenching his jaw and curling his lip back in a pained snarl. Every muscle in his body tense and his back in a rigid arch.
This isn't new to him. He's always burned through this stuff quick but it's definitely gotten worse as he's gotten older and stronger.
Luffy and Sanji only have to hold him down for the really bad ones. It's more of a precaution, a comfort of all of them.
They're the only ones to hold him because even blind with pain, Zoro knows them.
Even when his world narrows down to hurthurthurt, he won't fight them the way he would someone else. He trusts them to be strong enough that he can be a little weak if needed. Only a little.
Luffy being cautious and untrusting of anyone other than crew while Zoro recovers and gets his feet back under him.
Possessive and protective in the way all captains are. A extra edge to it because it's Zoro and Zoro is his in a way no one else quite is.
Sanji hovering, always something in his hands because his way of caring is food. The pain usually takes away Zoro's appetite but it's the best way Sanji knows to heal.
Luffy curled around Zoro when he naps on deck or when they go to sleep at night, trying to make sure nothing hurts and reassure them both that Zoro's okay.
Both of them running a critical eyes over Zoro because infection is a whole beast of its own. They want to make sure that if there's even a hint of one, they catch it as soon as possible.
Touching Zoro constantly because if they feel tense muscles they know he's hurting and if he's running a fever they can work on cooling it down.
🌊
The strawhat crew holds a grudge against a few people. Most of them obvious but always at the top is Garp, Blackbeard, Judge, and Mihawk.
Because they don't know exactly what went on while they were all separated for 2 years but they hold Mihawk accountable for Zoro's eye, even if he wasn't the one behind that particular scar.
They know Zoro felt all of it and they weren't there with him. And anyone who is responsible for that kind of pain to one of the crew goes right on the shit list.
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my-proof-is-you · 1 month
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But God, at what cost?
Imagine: Dean helping you get through your cardio workout
A/N: Literally thought of this when I was at the gym trying to get through a workout. Pretended Dean was cheering me on…is that weird? Ha.
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You were pretty sure almost no one hated running more than you.
You were a bigger person. You always had been. Plus sized, if you will. You were very strong, though. When you hunted, you held your own. 
You didn’t hate your body, either. You weren’t skinny like some of your friends were in high school. You knew none of them could do what you could on hunts, though.
Dean liked your curves, too. He always said he admired your strength and the man damn near worshipped your body in bed. 
But you knew your weakness: cardio. 
It wasn’t very often you had to run for your life. You, Sam and Dean made a great hunting team, so there was rarely a need to run away. 
When you did, though, you lagged behind. That meant that Dean lagged behind, too. He would never leave you to fend for yourself. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him in danger any more than he wanted you to be.
So that was why you were trying to get better at running even though it was the bane of your existence. You’d been spending time in the bunker gym, using the treadmill Sam had bought for when the weather outside wasn’t conducive to his runs.
You didn’t really want Dean to know what you were doing. It was your own problem, and you wanted to fix it on your own. 
You’d run a few times on your own on the treadmill, and hated every second of it. It put you in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed. 
You were once again trying to get a run in on the treadmill before the brothers got back from their supply run. Unfortunately, you didn’t time it right.
“Y-Y/N?” Dean asked, entering the gym. He had a shocked look on his face. 
“What?” You huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t hide how much you hated what you were doing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, coming to stand next to the treadmill with his arms crossed over his chest. 
You rolled your eyes. “Can’t a person run without getting asked a million questions?”
“A person, yes. You…no. Sweetheart, you hate running,” he said with a smile and a raised eyebrow. 
“Yeah—well— hate—putting you—in danger—more,” you said while panting.
Dean reached over, pulling the cord that stops the treadmill. 
“Hey!” You exclaimed, slowing to a walk before the belt stopped completely. 
“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “What danger?”
“I’m slow, Dean,” you said, finally regaining your breath. “I know I am. And I don’t want to be the reason you stay behind and get killed by a monster!”
“First of all, that’s not going to happen. And B, you are one of the best hunters I know. I really think you’re underestimating yourself.”
You sighed. “Regardless, Dean, I could be better, and I want to be.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face. “This has nothing to do with looks, right? Cause, sweetheart, you know I think you’re perfect the way you are.”
You smiled, despite your exhaustion. “I know that, De. And I promise, it’s not about that. I know I’m hot,” you said with a wink. 
Dean bit his lip, sending a little thrill through to your core. 
“I just want to improve is all,” you said with a shrug. 
“Well, sweetheart, you know how I feel about running, too. I hate it maybe more than you do. But if this is something you want, I will help you,” Dean said, reaching out to squeeze your hand. 
You weren’t sure how he meant to help you, but going it alone wasn’t working. You’d take any help offered at this point.
He watched your face as you tried to understand what he’d do, and he gestured for you to step back on the treadmill. You turned it back on and began jogging. 
After a minute or so, you started to get out of breath and wanted desperately to stop. You looked at Dean, who nodded his head in the direction the treadmill was facing to tell you to keep looking forward. 
“You got this, sweetheart,” he began. He wasn’t yelling it, just speaking with conviction at his normal volume. 
“I’ve seen you go through literal Hell, Y/N. This is nothing. You are so strong.”
His words gave you some confidence. It was nice to hear, especially over the voice in your head that was telling you to quit. 
You went another ten minutes with Dean’s words of encouragement spurring you on before your legs started really aching.
“It—hurts—De—” you panted.
“Just a little more, Y/N/N. And when you’re done, I’m gonna take you to the shower…get you nice and clean,” he said, his voice turning sultry.
“Hm?” You asked, suddenly distracted from your pain. 
“That’s right, baby. Then I’m gonna massage all your sore muscles.”
You felt even more of a blush rising to your cheeks.
“And tomorrow, when you’re all rested, we’re gonna do some cardio together.”
“You—hate—running,” you said, breathless for more than one reason.
“I’m not talking about running, sweetheart.”
You hit your goal of two miles then, and nearly leapt off the treadmill before the belt even stopped. 
“Let’s hit the showers,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the hall. 
Dean followed, chuckling. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
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Forevers:
@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium
Dean/Jensen:
@harleycao
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luffyvace · 3 months
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Hey there brook! I hope u having a nice day! Can I ask for a luffy x heroic fem reader headcanon? by heroic I mean that she completely dedicated her life to help and save ppl and that her purpose in life, she's strong and seems cold but when u get to know her she has empathy more than anyone else, I feel like this is the perfect character that luffy would fall in love with, pure kindness hiding behind a tough facade, she doesn't even like being called a hero, yet she is willing to do anything for those in need, slaves, poor villages, she goes against anything unjust without any fear, cause thats her purpose in life (sorry if that was too long 💀)
Hi anon <33 (it makes me so happy that someone finally addressed me as that💗)
today was a very chill day 😊 thank you! How’s yours?
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Reader sounds so genuine with such a good background for a op character!!
(Don’t worry it’s not too long—I love to read:3)
Ngl luffy subconsciously sees a little bit of himself in you!!
like your hearts are so similar—gold!
of course he doesn’t directly think that way- but he feels the connection!
which is through helping!
you two never turn your backs on those who have never wronged you
its not even about if they’re on your side or not, as long as they haven’t wrong you? and they need help?
the both of you are on it 🤜🤛👍
you wanting to save others becomes admirable to more than just him, to all of the straw hats—chopper and usopp especially!
I’m gonna go ahead and say it here and now you remind both Jinbe and luffy of whitebeard and fishman island type thing
LIKE THAT’S HOW IT IS!!
Y/n is just her tbh 🤷‍♀️
and if the ops don’t like that? 🤨
🤜💥
how you like that? >:)
your strength may or may not be hereditary but either way if you don’t continue training or working out your gonna loose that strength eventually
which shows just how hard you train everyday!!
bro works harder than zoro 🗿
and we all know he don’t sleep on workin out
so y/n is a gorilla the og
its no wonder you be cookin the ops like breakfast👩‍🍳👍
this is literally turning into a rant about me being (name)’s biggest fan ok let’s move on
luffy saw you cold exterior and was like
😍😍😘🥰😘💍💋💋💋
LOLOLOL no but fr he looked straight past that
he always does- he ignored law’s and zoro’s why wouldn’t he with you-
and once he sees your true kindness???
Locked in like a booty hole 🔗
(ANYWAY I HAD TO🧍‍♀️)
yeah he pretty much busts right through that
he pretty much instantly demands you already are is nakama after that
Your empathy is what really swoops him off his feet tho
like luffy has a good sense of empathy so much so he can hear the voice of all things
and you probably can too! It’s highly likely!
(y/n could have her own anime at this point 🤷‍♀️😚)
But seriously the way he can just feel the way you long for others when they’re in pain just gets him right at the heartstrings you know?! 🥺❤️‍🩹
you comfort them so assuredly and keep your promise to win every time !!
luffy would admire himself more than he would know if he realized how alike the two of you are
tbh you probably admire luffy!!
like it’s a mutual thing, where you pretty much don’t see your own coolness you only see the other’s
so you admire each other unaware that your the same 😂💗
he absolutely adores and admires that empathetic part of you thoo!
he loves how your kind and tough
he wholeheartedly believes the strong should protect the weak, cuz that’s what a man does.
especially with nakama.
so he definitely understands your need to protect those who can’t do it for themselves
there are many times he can recall where he had to rely on others
so he loves that your the one who does that for people
and you don’t do it for the money or fame!
you don’t even view yourself as the hero and savior that bystanders see you as!
that’s so cool to him!
you background/past might’ve caused it! Like maybe you had no superhero! So you decided to become one!
he kinda looks up to you in a way 🤩
as someone who has also helped slaves and the poor he completely understands where you come from in your kindness
and it’s even cooler that you charge head on into battle for others without a second thought
that’s just how tough you are ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
not an ounce of fear in your eyes as you walk up to someone 20x the size of you to simply get back the bread they stole from a poor little child
LIKE HOW COOL IS THAT?! 💥💥
your a super hero!! Dundun duh-duuuuuun!!
🦸‍♀️‼️🤩
you have a goal just like him!! He wants to be the king of pirates and you wanna help others!
With the type of pirate he is?, those things go hand in hand 🤝
”STRAW HAT LUFFY AND PIRATE HERO (NAME) IS HERE!! RUN AWAY!!”
says the pirates who know they’ve done wrong doing!! 😎
also excuse (name)’s lame pirate alias i couldn’t think of one 😊💖
(Name) is so cool 😎 I admire her 💓
hope you enjoyed your hcs anon!! *super heroes away🦸‍♀️🚀*
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cerise-on-top · 3 months
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Could I request Gaz, Alejandro, & Valeria with gn reader who's love language is violence? Like- always wanting to spar, (affectionate) punches, biting them or casually threatening them (empty threats, obviously)
Love your writing so much! Be sure to take good care of yourself!! 🫶🫶
I used to show my affection like that when I was younger, but me threatening my friends is still very much a thing! And thank you for the compliment, glad to hear my writing is enjoyable to you!
Gaz, Alejandro and Valeria with an S/O with a Violent Love Language
Gaz: In all honesty, the first time you bite him, he’ll stare at you for a bit before asking you what you’re doing. It never occurred to him that biting could be a love language, so you’d need to explain yourself to him first. It would be a bit strange to him at first, it’s definitely something he’ll need to get used to, but he can appreciate you being affectionate in your own ways. He’s a rather affectionate guy himself, even if he doesn’t particularly show his love for others through violent means. Gaz always just assumed that affection was shown through one of the common love languages, but he can get used to it eventually. From time to time, when you threaten to put him in the electric chair, he’ll feign hurt, pretending to be insulted by what you’ve said to him. He knows you wouldn’t ever go through with it, but it’s all in good fun anyway. He might not threaten you back, aside from the occasional “I’m going to drink the strawberry milk if you keep being insolent”, but every time you do say something deranged towards him he has to keep himself from saying something sassy himself. He’d love to, but he’s not sure you’d react well to it. You can lightly punch him, if you dare, but he will get his revenge on you. His love language is being an idiot, so be prepared for a pillow fight or maybe even a tickle war. Something along the lines of that. You can also spar with him, but he won’t go easy on you just because you’re together. If anything, it’s all the more incentive for him to show you how strong he is by beating you every time. Gaz isn’t as weak as many people think he is, he could easily take you in a fight. You will be pinned down a lot, so be prepared.
Alejandro: He’s probably a big fan of you being down to spar with him just about whenever you can. Like Gaz, it’s a way for him to show off, but he’ll also use the opportunity to teach you a thing or two about self-defense, especially if you’re not in the military yourself. It’s a fun way for you to tire yourself out and for him to stay in shape as well. While he may not always have the time to properly spar with you, he’ll try to make it up to you somehow. You could jump at him from behind and he’ll still find a way to get you to the ground. He’s a playful guy, so if you decide to lightly punch him he will punch you back, no qualms whatsoever about it. It might hurt a bit, though, since he does have quite a lot of muscles and doesn’t always take his strength into consideration, but he’ll apologize to you afterwards. If you threaten him he’ll simply roll his eyes at you and take away some privileges you might have. Hugging privileges, kissy privileges, if he’s feeling especially devious your attention privileges will be taken away from you as well. That is until you learn to apologize and not tell a colonel to “eat shit and die”. He could fold you in half just about whenever, so remember that next time you’re about to put him in the meat grinder. He does try to get creative with threatening you as well, though. But it’ll mostly be something easy to digest. You can bite him all you want, if he’s having a good day then there’s a chance he might just bite you back. Alejandro gives you a ten second headstart before he’ll catch you and bite right back. Even if you hide from him, he’ll find you anywhere in Las Almas.
Valeria: Don’t be too affectionate with her in public. It’s not that she wouldn’t love to show you off, but she doesn’t really have the time for your affections nor does she want to draw attention to you either. You can bite her in private. While she may not be the biggest fan of being bitten, she will tolerate just about everything else. In fact, you threatening her, El Sin Nombre, the leader of a great drug cartel, is sort of funny to her. She could kill you so easily and no one would ever know, but no, she won’t. You can threaten her all you want, she’ll find a way to make you take back your words. She can either beckon you over so you will turn your empty threat into a promise, or she’ll walk up to you herself, take your wrist into her hand, give you a sly smirk and tell you to toughen up. She’ll always quip back at you when she can, threatening you herself. She gets very violent, though, and it’s hard to differentiate between what is a joke and what she’s actually done before. Hanging someone from their intestines might either be Valeria humor, or something she’s done before. Sparring with her is interesting, because she will give it her all. You need to realize your place in your relationship, which is somewhere pinned underneath her. It’s a nice way for her to get out her frustrations while also staying professional and showing you just how cool she is. Don’t mess with her is her message here. You can gladly try to beat her, but Valeria plays dirty, even against you. She’s not above cheating to get her way, so you might wanna tap into your inner swindler as well if you really wanna win. However, it does make her feel very powerful whenever she does have you pinned underneath her, looking down at you with a smirk. Just a small reminder of what she’s capable of.
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