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#like do men not have the fucking capability to be friends with a woman other tthan the one theyre trying to fuck
saintjosie · 3 months
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Heyyyy girl so, I'm at an impasse with my transition. The euphoria is gone and I don't know where to find it anymore. Everything is progressing sooooo slowly, still too afraid to fully present fem, I came out to everyone I could, I'm still figuring out my style
I just don't know where to chase that girl high anymore
the first year or so of transition, euphoria was abundant.
my skin changed, i grew boobs, my body hair thinned out, and my hair grew out. i got laser and my facial hair slowly started to go away. i figured out what kind of clothes looked good on me and what i felt good wearing. i did voice training and found my voice. i learned how to do makeup. i had dabbled before but i REALLY learned how do it properly, and in a way where i didn’t feel like i had to cake my face with makeup.
but things didn’t really change until i decided to come out and stop boymoding no matter what - even if people misgendered me, or were transphobic, i just decided that i was gonna do it because fuck them. i’m doing this for me and not for anyone else.
and that’s when i really learned what it means to move through the world as a woman. because even if i didn’t pass as well as i liked, being publically a trans woman meant that everywhere i went, people either saw me as a woman or treated me with misogyny because they saw me as a man pretending to be one. either way, i had to deal with misogyny every day, the way that all women have to.
i learned what it feels like to get hit on when i don’t want the attention and what it’s like to be followed while holding my keys between my fingers.
and i also learned what being one of the girls feels like, with girl talk, chit chat, and white wine. i learned how to tell my friends how im feeling and listen to them in turn.
and from those experiences, i learned what kind of woman i wanted to be. i learned that i didn’t really like wearing girly things as much as androgyny and rough femininity. i learned that i didn’t really like wearing all that much makeup all the time. i learned how to gently turn away men without offending them. i learned how to deal with a man’s ego by making them feel smart and capable and how to subtly shut them down when they annoyed the hell out of me.
and i also learned that this was MY experience with womanhood and no one else’s. that other women did things differently and were still every bit as much women in their own way.
and at a certain point i realized that there wasn’t going to be a next high, a next hit of euphoria, because that wasn’t what i was chasing anymore. i was building a life and it was finally the life i wanted. now all of my joy is euphoria. and also all of my sadness and rage. because i just AM a woman. i’m not a woman in transition. i’m just a woman.
there are still some things i’d like to change and there probably always will be. but that’s also just what it’s like to be a woman and to be human.
just keep taking it one step at a time and you’ll find your own way. i promise 🙂
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sugurus-fave-monkey · 3 months
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J e a l o u s y
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Starring; Toji Fushiguro, Cult Leader!Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo & Reader
Cw: Smut, MDNI/18+,Swearing, AFAB reader. Slight plot, Mean: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Dirty Talking, Rough Sex, Oral (m & f receiving), DubCon, Breedinng kink, Exhibition, Degradation, Praise, Restraints, Collar & Leash, Murder, Blood, Overstimulation, P in V, Creampie, some AU(no curse for Toji)a whole lot of filth, not proofread, written on mobile.
WC: 5800 oops
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
Toji Fushiguro:
Toji Fushiguro:
Toji knew that living with a younger woman would be a pain in the ass sometimes, but today you really had him pissed. Toji had claimed you as his girl, though not in a dating sense, more so in a fuck buddy sense, because he didn’t know if he was capable of maintaining an actual relationship. Plus the two of you lived together, so it was all the benefits of dating without having to actually date. Win-win.
Toji had been downstairs at the gym of the apartment building, when you had texted him saying that you were going to have a friend over, and apologizing in advance for being loud. Toji had thought nothing of it at the time, typical college girl stuff, having a girl friend over and being obscenely loud.
He had decided to spend a bit longer in the gym, doing a few extra sets, just to give you and your girl a bit of privacy. He thought nothing of it when some kid with weird bangs, and the rest of his hair in a bun that he had never seen before walked into the gym. The kid had asked Toji if he could spot him for a couple of sets, saying that a friend of his was visiting someone, and he didn’t want to be a third wheel. The two of them had conversed, mostly about gains, protein, and other gym bro things, before the kid asked Toji if he wanted to join him in the pool. Toji had politely declined, before excusing himself, and putting his headphones back on.
When he entered your shared apartment the gears in his brain started turning when he noticed a pair of men’s shoes beside yours. He took his headphones off and heard music coming from your room, and other noises, moans and grunts. Toji wasn’t stupid, it just took him a bit to figure out things. That kid he met was obviously friends with whoever was in your room.
Toji wanted to go back downstairs, pull that kid out of the pool by his stupid bun, and beat the shit out of him for letting his friend come and fuck his girl. But Toji also did not want an assault charge, so he cracked a beer, and sat on the couch. He could see your room, and he had patience.
A short while later he heard the music stop, and your door open. You came out of your room followed by a kid with white hair, whose appearance pissed Toji off. the kid was tall, lanky, and wearing sunglasses. Who the hell wears sunglasses inside. He wore a crooked smile as he noticed Toji.
“Oh shit, I guess your roommate’s home!” The kid smirked at you.
Your hair was dishevelled, your make up a mess as you glanced at Toji.
“Yeah. Toji this is Satoru, Satoru this is my roommate, Toji.” You mumbled.
Toji watched you say goodbye to Satoru, hugging him at the door. You tried to dart away but Toji grabbed you by the neck.
“Where d’ya think you’re going?” Toji asked.
“To shower?” You bit your lip.
“Nah, I think you need to be reminded whose girl you are.” Toji said as he started guiding you into his bedroom.
Toji pushed you down roughly onto his bed.
“Close your eyes.” he ordered.
You did so, and shortly felt the cool leather of a collar being wrapped around your neck. Toji yanked both your hands behind your back, securing them to the cuffs attached to the collar. You opened your eyes, and Toji was smirking down at you.
“So, my girl thinks she can just fuck whoever she likes huh?” Toji takes his shirt off, and you lick your lips at the sight. His beautiful muscles, glimmering under the LED lights in his room. “Better hope he stretched you out real good.”
Toji pulls his sweats down and your eyes widen. His cock was monstrous. His tip, angry and red, with precum dribbling is thick. He usually needed to make you cum at least once and use lube just to get inside you. His length was just as mean, veiny and a curve that could send you into overdrive.
Toji pushes you onto your back, and spreads your legs, palming his cock a few times before lining himself up at your entrance, and pushing slightly. It feels like you’re ripping.
“Nngh Toji! It won’t fit!” You protest.
“Tch.” Toji pulls back a little bit before leaning his head over yours. “Open your mouth.”
You do so and he gathers saliva in his mouth, before spitting it into your awaiting mouth. You feel yourself become more aroused, and swallow his spit while looking him dead in the eyes.
“Good girl.” Toji says while grabbing the bottle of lube off his dresser, before smearing it over your entrance, and around his cock.
He lines himself up once again, pushing into you. You yelp and clench your fists behind your back, sweat coating your face.
“Mmm fuck mama, you’re takin’ it so good.” Toji’s tongue is between his teeth as he slowly pushes himself into you, your walls enveloping him. “That little boy couldn’t even make you cum huh?”
The pain and pleasure of Toji stretching you out mingle together. A moan escapes your lips. Toji slaps you in the face, and wraps his fingers around your throat.
“I asked you a question, slut.” Toji asks through gritted teeth. “He didn’t make you cum did he?”
“N-no daddy! He didn’t!”
Toji slams into you, bottoming out. “Then. Why. Would. You. Bother?” Thrusting into you with every word.
Tears spill out of your eyes, your mouth is open as Toji drills into you. His thumb finds your clit and starts circling it. You thrust your hips upwards, chasing your high. Your stomach flutters, and your cheeks grow hot.
“You wanna cum huh? Such a greedy girl. Fuckin’ cum all over this cock then girl.” Toji groans out.
“F-fuuuuuck! Daaaaadddyyyy!” You practically scream out, as your orgasm racks through your body. Your muscles tighten, your vision goes white, as pleasure consumes you. Your walls clench around Toji’s dick, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
When it subsides, and you’re twitching, and panting, Toji pulls out and flips you over. He pulls your hips up, so you’re arching your back, and grabs the leash of your collar with his free hand. He gives you no time to adjust, before he’s bullying his cock back into you.
He pulls on your leash, forcing your head up, and drool spills out of your mouth. You’re so fucked out already, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, stars clouding your vision.
Toji sends his hand flying towards your ass, leaving a mark, his pace quickens.
“F-fuuuuck daddy, slow down!” You groan. “M’gonna cum.”
Instead of slowing down, Toji somehow speeds up, spearing you on his cock. “Yeah? Gonna cum again pretty girl?”
Toji’s words send you into overdrive, and you squirt all over him. Your legs are shaking, your arms are burning from being restrained, but you wish you could stay like this forever. Being fucking into oblivion by Toji’s cock. But you can tell he’s getting close to his peak. His muscles are contracting, his thrusts are getting sloppier, he’s grunting and groaning.
“Fuck mama, M’gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. Put a baby in you. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” Toji moans as his seed shoots into you, painting your walls and kissing your womb.
Toji pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you, before finally letting you out of your restraints. Your senses slowly start to come back to you.
“So, I’m actually your girl huh?” You ask.
“Guess so. If it means you ain’t gonna be fucking that idiot again, then you’re my girl.” Toji replies before grabbing a towel, and heading to the bathroom. “Y’gonna join me?”
“Yeah just a minute.” You call back, before pulling your phone out. You open up your texts with Satoru, and type out a message.
-Your plan worked! You’re honestly the best! And tell Suguru he’s the best boyfriend ever for letting you pretend to fuck me.-
*******
Suguru Geto:
Geto regarded all of his followers in the same manner, monkeys. But they all served a purpose, so he allowed most of them to live. Piss him off though, and he would have you killed. All of them were interchangeable, he could kill all of them, only to have a new group flock in the next day.
You, however were different. Geto had found you, sheltering yourself from a rainstorm close to his dwelling. He had offered you a deal, shelter indefinitely, so long as you were either useful, or willing to follow his principles. You had agreed, and while you got settled, Geto manifested a Surveillance Curse, sending it into your room. You had managed to incapacitate it, meaning you had cursed energy, which meant you could be of slight use to him.
Geto would never admit it, but he was enthralled by you, the way you looked at him with admiration, the way you were always the first one in when he called everyone to come listen to a speech. The way his eyes would zero in on you.
So when you were absent from his preachings for a few days in a row, he found himself growing concerned. He sent one of the monkeys to find you, and see what was wrong. When that follower reported their findings, Geto executed them on the spot.
The monkey had followed you around the facility, until he watched you enter another followers chambers. He had watched through a slight opening in the curtain, as you shed your clothes and gave yourself to that other man.
Geto was furious. After all, you should be entirely devoted to him, allowing no other to have you in that manner. He was the one in charge, and to be disrespected by someone he allowed to grovel before him, who was beneath him, almost shattered his facade. Rather than succumbing to the anger, he pushed it aside, he would have to teach you what happens when your loyalty slips.
The next day Geto ensured you would be present, by having a different monkey go to your chambers and escort you. You took your usual seat, front row, but refused to even look at Geto. You were nervous and rightfully so. When the rest of his followers piled in he addressed the crowd.
“Hello everyone.” Geto began, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Today you shall witness a special performance.” Geto stood up and pointed at you. “Would you be so kind as to come up to the stage?”
Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing throughout your body. You gulped. “Me?” You squeaked out.
“Yes, you.” Geto dialed up the warmth in his voice. “Come onto the stage.”
Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to not go up there. But what else could you do? You knew if you ran, Geto would catch you, and kill you right then and there. Your legs shake as you stand up, time seeming to stand still as you take a step.
Geto’s lips curl as he sees the fear on your face, the sheen of sweat coating your body as you unsteadily step towards him. His eyes zeroing in on yours, like a predator, ready to pounce on their prey.
When you’re finally on the stage, Geto cups your chin with one of his large hands, forcing you to look up at him. He smiles down at you, but his eyes have malicious intent behind them. The hairs on your arm stand on end. Geto uses his hand to guide your gaze to the crowd, when you notice the man you had been sleeping with in the middle of the crowd, being held in place by two bigger men. You gasp when Geto jerks your head back towards him, and presses his lips against your ear.
“I hope you’re not shy in front of a crowd. Gotta show everyone what happens when they can’t keep control of their dicks. I’m not going to hurt you though.” Geto whispers, before pulling away and addressing his followers.
“Do I not provide for you? Have I not cured you of your ailments, your sicknesses? And yet, it seems that one of you displays no loyalty. No gratitude for what I have done for him. He must think of me as below him, inferior to him. Why else would he take what’s not his? You all serve me, you all belong to me, and you’re all mine to use as I please.” Geto’s voice is low, all the cheer drained from it.
He tosses the mic down to the floor, his body towering over yours.
“Strip.” That singular word. Your body felt like a shock ran through it. There was no way Geto was serious. This had to be some sort of joke. You couldn’t move.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Geto warned.
Your hands shook as you began undressing yourself, the robes you wore falling into a pool at your feet. You unclasp your bra and shrug it off your shoulders, using an arm to cover your nipples. You inhale harshly as Geto pulls your arm away from your body, the cool air making your nipples erect. Your lip trembles as you pull your panties down, exposing yourself to the hungry eyes of Geto’s followers. Your thighs close on instinct, and you close your eyes, willing this to be a dream.
“Open your legs.” Geto commands, his focus solely on you. You do so, and Geto uses a finger to swipe at your entrance. “Look at you, you’re already dripping, pathetic.”
Geto pushes his finger into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. A shiver runs down your spine at the intrusion, but you also feel aroused. Being in front of all of these people, while Geto invaded your body, just did something to you. You decide to suck on his finger, and he smirks at you.
He pulls his finger out of your mouth and stands behind you, before slapping your ass. He snaps a finger, and two followers bring out a chair. Geto sits down, and pulls you onto his lap.
“You ready to put on a show?” Geto whispers in your ear, and you can’t help to bite your lip and nod.
Geto uses a hand to lift your hips up, while he pulls his dick out, and slowly lowers you onto it. A moan spills out of your lips as he fills you up. Fuck he’s so thick, you’re so full already and he’s not even halfway inside. His fingers snake around your throat, as he tips your head back, as he pushes the rest of his length into you.
“Mmm fuck Geto, y’so big.” You moan out. Your eyes trail over the crowd. Every single one of them has lust in their eyes, they look so hungry. The men wishing they were the ones fucking you, the women cursing you for getting what they always desired.
Geto bounces you on his dick, causing your head to reel. You had always fantasized about fucking him, touching yourself to the thoughts. You never imagined you’d actually get the opportunity, so you had settled with the first guy to pay you attention. You had needs after all, but fuck, you were sure you’d never want to fuck anyone else as long as you lived.
“Fuck you’re so tight, you’re taking me so good.” Geto grunts in your ear, before nibbling on it. Your hand shoots down to your clit, rubbing circles around it. Geto slams into you, pulling moans from your throat as you work at your bud. Your stomach begins to coil, you’re so fucking close. A sheen of sweat is coating your body, your eyes are half lidded, you’re already feeling fucked out.
“Uhnnn, G-Geto, m’gonna cum, fuck don’t stop.” You whimper, as stars cloud your vision. You clutch onto Geto’s robes as your orgasm ravages you. Your mouth is open in an O, and you fucking squirt, soaking Geto’s pants and spraying the crowd.
“Fucking good girl!” Geto squeezes your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, feeling his own approaching. He finally got to fuck you, and put his followers in their place. Before he loses all sense a rationality he summons a cursed spirit, and targets the man who had the courage to sleep with you.
Blood splatters onto both of you. And that sends Geto into overdrive, his hips rutting into you, as his orgasm courses through him. You feel his dick pulsing as his cum shoots into you, thick ropes, coating your walls.
You haven’t even come down yet, before Geto pulls you off his dick, grabs your hair and pushes your face into the pile of your fluids.
“Clean up your mess, monkey.” And you do so, licking up both of your fluids. When you’re done, Geto snakes his arm around your waist. “You’ll be staying in my chambers now, and I’ll have you whenever I desire.”
“If anyone of you chooses to be disloyal, the same fate will await you. Dismissed.” Geto addresses the crowd one last time, before exiting the stage with you in tow.
*********
Satoru Gojo:
Satoru Gojo was very lonely, after all his girlfriend and his best friend had been assigned a mission together, and he was stuck at Jujutsu Tech by himself. There was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t have gone with the two of you, which he made sure to whine about.
“No fair, why do you two get to go out of country and I don’t.” He had groaned.
“It’s a surveying mission, Satoru. We need to be stealthy.” Suguru had explained.
“Okay, and? What’s your point?” Satoru had pouted.
“You’re not exactly the quietest, or sneakiest person. The minute we’d find our objective, you’d come barrelling in with-“ you had mimicked his hand signs. “Blue”
Both you and Suguru had started laughing your asses off right then, and Satoru couldn’t help but join in.
But now, he was bored, bored , b-o-r-e-d. And he figured that now was as good a time as any to use one of his handy techniques; teleportation. He had badgered Suguru, until he had informed him of where exactly they were going, with a “What if something happens to you two?” So he knew exactly where he was going.
He figured he would surprise the two of you, maybe go out shopping, and he could even help the two of you finish the mission faster.
It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the location, which was not what he was expecting. There were a ton of dilapidated old buildings, and there was a ton of residuals, both human and curse alike. Satoru frowned before setting out to follow your residuals, and he noticed the two of you, before you noticed him.
Satoru couldn’t explain what made him duck at the side of a building and watch the two of you, but now he was pissed.
Satoru saw the two of you fending off a Cursed Spirit, you were distracting it, while Suguru had begun to manipulate it. Satoru watched as his best friend collapsed the curse into itself, making it take the shape of a ball. He watched as you cheered him on. He watched as Suguru swallowed the curse in one go, and your eyes lit up, and you gushed at how great it is he can swallow curses. He watched as Suguru put his arm over your shoulders and the two of you walked away. He could hear you still ecstatic about how great Geto was at swallowing.
Satoru put a plan in motion at that very moment, and decided to wait a few hours to enact it. He didn’t know which he was more hurt by; the blatant lie involving the mission, you swooning over his best friend, or the way Suguru just draped his arm over you.
~~~~
You had just finished in the shower, and decided to get comfy for the night, the mission for today was finished, Suguru was resting in his hotel room, and you planned to order room service. You wrapped yourself in the satin robe the hotel had provided. You were about to flop down on the bed, when you heard a knock at the door.
Figuring it was probably Suguru, you got up and unlocked the door, without even looking through the peep hole. You swung it open to be met by… your boyfriend? What was he doing here?
“Satoru?! What- how?” You babbled, eyes widening.
Satoru said nothing as he pushed the door open and stepped in, before searching your hotel room for something. You cocked an eyebrow while watching him in silence.
“What’s going on?! Is everything okay? What are you looking for?” You ask.
Satoru stands before you, glaring at you, his eyes seemingly filled with anger. He takes you in, seeing the worried expression, the way you chew your lip.
“Kneel.” Satoru commands.
“I-what? Kneel?” You sputter out, your cheeks growing hot.
Satoru grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you down until you kneel. “I said kneel.”
You were still totally confused as to why Satoru showed up, but the way he was acting right now had you nervous, but kind of turned on. The two of you usually had sex at least once daily, and you had been on this mission for two and a half weeks now.
You looked up at Satoru through your eyelashes and he smirked at you. He took your hand in his, pulling it towards his crotch, forcing you to feel his erection. He pulled the waistband of his sweats down, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.
“Open your mouth.” Satoru orders, and when you do, he pushes his cock into your mouth, giving you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting. “Mmm fuck, that’s my good girl, swallowing my cock.”
Satoru’s dirty talk always had you practically creaming, you squeeze your thighs together and moan around his cock, as you suck, using your tongue to increase his pleasure.
His hold on your hair tightens, keeping you in place so he is fully in control. Fuck your mouth made him practically delirious, the way you devoured him as though he was your last meal. When you bring your hand up to stroke him, he bats it away. “Nuh-uh. Just your mouth, see if you can handle swallowing all of me.”
As he says that, he pushes himself deeper, past your uvula. You gag, and your mouth waters, as his cock slides down your throat. Your eyes are watering, but you know you can take him. You look up at him to find him glaring down at you, his lip curled.
Satoru pulls out, before snapping his hips forward, fucking into your throat. He lets a groan escape, furrowing his brows. He wraps his free hand around your throat, feeling how it bulges as he throat fucks you.
He slows it down, only to bully his cock impossibly further down your throat. You’re light headed, his dick cutting off oxygen, and his hand wrapped around your throat making it even worse.
He pulls out of your throat, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before ramming his length right back down your throat. “Mmmmmph.” You groan against his cock as tears spill out of your eyes.
“Aw what’s wrong Princess?” Satoru coos. “Thought ya liked swallowing. Or is that only when Suguru does it, hmm?”
Your blood runs cold, and your eyes widen.
“F-fuck.” Satoru moans, while continuing to abuse your throat. “Y-yeah, I saw you two. Fuckin’ lucky that y’make me feel s’good.”
You couldn’t even explain the truth. How Suguru needed you to support him after your battle. That’s the only reason he had his arm around you. How after seeing the face of disgust he made, you tried to distract him by telling him how cool it was that he could swallow curses. You tried to pull away, hoping to explain, but Satoru held you in place. Tears flowed down your face.
“You cryin’? That’s rich. Think you’re real smooth huh? Like I wouldn’t have seen it with my six eyes. Just means, I gotta f-fuck, remind you who you belong to.” Satoru growls out.
Again, your thighs grind together, you’re so desperate for stimulation. You shove your fingers between your legs, rubbing at your clit before Satoru pulls your hand away, smirking.
“Nah, you don’t deserve to touch yourself. If ya wanna cum y’better make sure to swallow all my cum.” Satoru’s thrusts become sloppy, he feels his balls clench, and he bottoms out, pushing his cock as far as it will go, before sloppily humping against your face.
“Ahn ah, fuck.” Satoru hisses as he feels his balls release. “Fuck take it all, fuckin don’t waste a single drop.”
His release fills up your throat as he pulls out, somehow spilling more into your mouth. You swallow, and instantly start coughing and sputtering. Air fills your lungs, and you inhale and exhale deeply.
Satoru stuffs his dick back into his pants, before grabbing your phone and firing off a text.
“S-Satoru, what are you doing?” You whisper, your throat to raw to properly speak.
“Told Suguru to come over. Think I need to teach him a lesson too. And see if his swallowing is worth the hype.” Satoru says as he ruffles your hair. “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum.”
You feel yourself dripping, your hole clenching around nothing, as you hear a knock at the door.
*********
Choso Kamo:
Choso had wanted to help you train but the fact is: he is not good at training people. He just lacks the finesse to take what he’s doing and slow it down for you.
You were a curse user, part of Geto’s group, you had participated in the Night Parade of 100 Demons, and had found Geto shortly afterwards. You hadn’t questioned how he was still alive, assuming the stitches were from healing himself up. You met Choso right after he gained a body, and seemingly formed a bond. After Choso had exposed Geto as a fake, you immediately turned on Geto, allying yourself with Choso.
Choso glances over to where Noritoshi is guiding you, and instantly starts to feel annoyed. Surely you could move your body on your own? Why were his hands all over you? What was so funny that you were giggling over?
Choso huffs out a sigh, before turning away from you and Noritoshi, figuring he may as well train also. He was sure of his abilities but it didn’t hurt to improve them, and he could also use that as an opportunity to get his frustrations out.
After a while of training, and continuing to ruminate, he decides enough is enough. He had talked to Yuji about how you made him feel, and Yuji had told him he probably has feelings for you. Yuji had then sat Choso down and made him sit through several romance movies. After that he had directed him to Hakari, for additional knowledge, because Yuji “hasn’t really done that stuff”.
Choso made his way to the door of your quarters quickly, and knocked softly on the door. You pulled the door open, and beamed up at him before pulling him into a hug and inviting him in.
Choso could smell your perfume on you, the aroma getting to his head. He was so captivated by every part of you. You were wearing a very small pair of shorts and a crop top, both of which hugged your curves. He was almost salivating.
“What’s up Choso?” You asked him with a smile.
Choso didn’t speak, instead he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. His lips crashed against yours, and for a brief moment you were still, before opening your mouth, allowing Choso’s tongue free rein of your mouth. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue explores. When you suck on his tongue, he groans, and his hips thrust against you, grinding his erection against your thighs.
Choso breaks the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, and trails his lips down to your neck. He’s sloppy, biting down and sucking, licking, all while whining, fucking whining, because he wants all of you, all at once, forever. He pulls up your crop top, exposing your plush breasts, and pulls away to admire them.
His mouth actually salivates. “C-can I?”
“Sure.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm. You allow Choso to guide you to your bed, and he sinks down beside you.
Choso feels light headed as he takes a nipple into his mouth. Fuck, your skin tasted so sweet. He feels you grab onto his hair as you let out a moan when he nips gently at the bud. He can’t help but to roll his eyes back into his head, as he squeezes your other breast with his hand. He releases your nipple from his mouth and bites down on your shoulder, and when your blood enters his mouth, he loses all sense of rationality.
He pushes you down on the bed, pulling off your shorts, trailing bites all the way down from your shoulder to your waist, before sitting on his knees on the floor. He grabs your thighs, pulling your heat towards his mouth, and spreading your legs.
He slowly licks at your entrance, causing you to arch your back, and his mouth waters at the taste. He uses a hand to spread your folds open, before plunging his tongue inside of you. You both moan at the same time, Choso grinding his hips against the bed frame. He’s sloppy as he fucks you with his tongue, his saliva mixing with your slick. His free hand comes up to play with your nipple.
Your hands are wrapped in his hair, as you allow pleasure to wrack through you. “Nngh, fuck Choso, feels so good.”
The praise goes right to his head, and his dick, somehow making him even harder. He pulls his tongue out of your cunt, and brings it to your clit, licking it slowly, almost teasingly. Your moans fill the room. Choso pulls his dick out, and starts stroking it slowly.
“P-please, faster Cho.” You groan.
Choso obliges, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, swirling it around, until he presses his tongue flat against it and starts moving his head up and down, left and right.
You’re so close, your hips matching Choso’s movements as you grind on his face. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt an orgasm like this coming on.
“Oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck, Choso, fuck!” Your mind goes blank as you cum on Choso’s tongue. Your body twitches, your hole clenches around nothing, and you pull Choso by the hair. Your thighs try to close, but Choso is using his hands to keep them open. A few tears fall from your eyes due to the intensity of your orgasm.
Choso keeps eating you out, he doesn’t even need to touch himself at this point. He practically slurps down your orgasm. He takes a hand off your thighs, and bring it towards you entrance. He pushes one finger in, relishing how your warmth sucks him in. He whines again, he can’t wait to feel your walls against his aching cock. He adds a second finger, curling them inside you, hitting your g-spot. His other hand is pressed on your belly, and he can feel his fingers inside you. He loves the way your muscles clench around his fingers, as he probes you.
He pulls his face away from you, replacing his tongue with his thumb, moving it up and down, and in circles over your clit. He watches your face contort, your eyes squeeze shut, your hands now grasping onto the blanket.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Choso remarks. “I need you to cum again for me.”
Choso’s hand fucks into you skillfully, pulling his fingers out a little bit, before pushing them back in and repeatedly curling them. His pace on your clit is perfect, and goosebumps prick your skin as you approach another orgasm.
“D-don’t stop.” You cry out as pure pleasure shoots through you. Your toes curl, your hips thrust upwards, your whole body spasms, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Choso’s lips meet yours and open your mouth. You taste yourself on him as his tongue fucks in and out of your mouth.
When he pulls away, you open your eyes, and watch as he palms his cock. Your mouth waters, his dick is absolutely perfect, pale, veiny, and his tip is absolutely oozing pre cum.
Choso lines himself up, and as he pushes into you it takes everything in his being to not cum right then and there. He pulls out, and pushes back in, fucking you slowly, savouring the feeling, he bites on his lower lip, while watching himself slowly fuck you. He brings his thumb to your clit, swirling it over your bud.
“Nngh! Cho I-I can’t cum again. S’too many.” You’re so sensitive right now, overstimulation hitting you hard.
“Fuck yes, y-you can babe. N-need you to cum all over me. Please.” Choso begs, and fuck maybe you could cum again.
You allow your body to relax, your brain to shut down, but something feels weird, like a sort of pressure.
“F-feels weird Cho I-“
Choso bottoms out and fucks into you roughly, increasing the strength of his thrusts. It feels like something inside you snaps, and you squirt all over Choso. You’d never done that before, and feel slightly embarrassed but Choso is loving it.
“Oh fuck, yeah cum all over me.” Choso feels himself ready to burst. His dick contracts, and oh my god, the feeling of cumming inside you was too much. “M’cumming inside you. Oh fuck I need you, fuck I love you, fuck please please don’t ever leave me.”
You milk him for every single drop that he’s got, and when he stops thrusting you wrap your arms around him, pulling his chest over your body, and kissing him sweetly. You’re both panting as you come down. When you’re finally coherent enough to speak, you cup his face in your hands.
“I won’t ever leave you,” you whisper. “I love you too.”
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aaron-m-geist-ff · 2 months
Text
JJK Men and Their Preferred Type of Woman. 🩷
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Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo
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Kento Nanami
Kento is not very picky when it comes to a potential girlfriend. He needs someone who is kind and empathetic, those are two traits which he absolutely cannot go without. Luckily for him, most women fit that criteria.
Additionally, he would like someone who would be interested in being a mother. Kento has a dream of providing for his future wife and having at least two children. He needs his girlfriend to be serious about pursuing marriage eventually. Of course, he would never rush or force anything. But Kento is the type of man who dates with the intention of marrying at some point in the future. He needs his girlfriend to be capable of commitment.
Intelligence doesn’t matter too much to Kento. He doesn’t care if you got really bad grades in school or anything like that. He is much more interested in your heart. He really wants someone who is emotionally mature and sweet. Everything else pales in comparison.
As for appearance, he truly does not care. Kento’s only desire is that you are physically healthy. He doesn’t have any preference when it comes to hair color, eye color, or any other physical traits. Again, he is much more interested in your heart. :)
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Suguru Geto
Suguru never really spent too much time thinking about what his type could be. But after constant pestering from his curious best friend Satoru, he finally started to consider it.
Suguru began to study himself. See how he reacted to different types of girls. He came to the conclusion that he likes the shyer type. Confident women can be really fun to converse with, and he finds them attractive, but there is just something about a shy and sweet woman which really makes Suguru weak.
He loves women who wear baggy sweaters or dress cutely somehow. He likes when a girl gets flustered or embarrassed easily. It’s so goddamn adorable to him. It makes Suguru feel protective.
He also wants someone who has a cute laugh. If his girlfriend is good at baking or cooking then that is definitely a plus.
And for appearance, Suguru really needs a lady with a cute ass. He needs to be able to stare at it sometimes, so it has to be a nice one ;)
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Toji Fushiguro
Toji definitely has a soft spot for women with nice thighs. Whenever he sees a pretty lady with thicker thighs in a pair of skinny jeans he instantly gets dirty thoughts. Thinking about those delicious thighs wrapped around his waist as he thrusts into her. Goddamn, he often has to fight the urge to get hard in public.
Toji needs a girl with a high sex drive. There, I said it. He is the type of man who wants to fuck a lot. Of course he would never do anything forceful, which is why he needs his girlfriend to be enthusiastic about sex like he is. That would be a dream come true for him.
When it comes to personality, Toji is very flexible. He really doesn’t care what your personality traits are, as long as you aren’t a complete brat towards him all the time. He needs someone who he can hold a decent conversation with. You could have the most obscure interests and he wouldn’t mind as long as you are a good person.
Toji doesn’t mind how you dress. If you wanna be modest, that’s cute. If you want to dress like a whore, he will kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way. :D
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Satoru Gojo
Satoru likes confident girls. The kind which aren’t afraid to make comebacks for his teasing jokes. It’s no fun if he teases you and you don’t fight back much. He’s very into bratty women because he likes to be a brat tamer.
A good sense of humor is essential with him. He loves to crack jokes and it would be troublesome if his girlfriend got offended easily. It’s important not to take his playful banter too seriously. It’s all done in good fun. Teasing is honestly like his love language at this point.
Satoru wants someone who doesn’t get jealous easily. He has a lot of admirers and he can’t prevent them from flirting with him. You would just need to have a lot of trust, he would be sure not to let you down. He is very loyal.
As for appearance, Satoru likes all sorts of women. Tall, short, skinny, chubby, brunette, blonde, redhead. Doesn’t matter. All that he asks for is a pretty girl with a good style. He likes to have arm candy to show off ;)
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inkwolvesandcoffee · 3 months
Text
Coffee & Salted Caramel (Dad Best Friend!John Price Dark Romantic Headcanons)
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CoD ML
It takes a moment for John to realise it’s you standing in front of him. However, after carefully scrutinising your face under the guise of a polite smile, there’s a spark of recognition in his pretty blue eyes.
In his defence, the last time he saw you was about ten years ago when you were an awkward teen just entering puberty. So little could have prepared him for seeing you now, blossomed into a beautiful young woman.
He doesn’t go in for a hug or a handshake, though it looks like the latter. Nevertheless, as soon as you’ve placed your hand in his, John brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “My lady.”
The dark satisfaction blossoming in his chest due to your flabbergasted expression is carefully concealed behind a cheeky smile. A smile which is easily mistaken as amused, kind.
Without any other implications than friendship.
Picks you up from work if you’re working late and during winter. If you’re working the morning shift and therefore have to be there early, he’ll escort you to make sure you’re alright. At first John tells himself he’s simply being a gentleman, a proper captain. Moreover, he’s doing his best friend a service by keeping his daughter safe.
From men like him.
To keep you for himself.
Your father may or may not have let slip you go to the gym. A comment in which John saw a golden opportunity to get closer to you and reconnect. Or, rather, truly connect.
So you now find yourself three times a week working out alongside your father’s best friend, who kindly picks you up and drops you off after each session.
Who you’ve noticed glaring and sometimes even downright scowling at the other men there. Especially when he’s acting as your personal trainer.
Ngl, he makes for a good workout partner. Of course he respects your boundaries, but gradually tries to push you beyond them. Henceforth, when one week you swear you won’t be able to do a deadlift with 10kg on either side, you find yourself more than capable the next.
Though he’d never admit it, John loves showing off his strength and size. He might be middle aged, but he sure is still as capable, if not more, than in his younger years.
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Another thing he’d keep a secret is how you wearing a choker tempts him to submit fully to instinct, play dangerously with the thought of claiming or, rather, owning you.
Frequently takes you out for hikes, picnics (weather permitting), trips around the country, and coffee. Whereas your father regards the outings with his best friend as enrichment because you two don’t get to do that stuff and acts of kindness, John actually sees them as unofficial dates.
Small moments during which he can properly fancy himself your partner.
You sing as a side hustle and have landed a performance at John’s favourite pub. Now, being a good friend to your father and simply being kind, he offers for you to stay overnight at his place. After all, the venue is too far from home to make it there afterwards safely.
Despite being seated in the back amongst the shadows, you feel John’s eyes on you throughout the show. Little do you know he occasionally closes his eyes, shutting out the world to enjoy your voice. It’s a lullaby that temporarily puts the rage seething beneath his skin to rest.
Gets grumpy when a guy approaches you to strike up a conversation after you’re done.
John knows you’re your own person and yet here he is, sulking and brooding over a pint because of a nagging sense he knows is unjustified. For fuck’s sake, you’re his best friend’s daughter! What the hell would you do with a guy his age, damaged beyond repair and haunted by ghosts?
Yet, he stands before you in no time and roughly grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him towards the exit. “On your feet. We’re leaving.”
On the way to his house, his grip remains iron-like regardless of how you struggle, whimper, beg, and try to pry his hand loose. Nonetheless, he remains as quiet, as tight-lipped, as when you ask him about his years in the army. Only when you call out his name with an ugly sob does he let go.
You flinch and step back when he turns around and comes closer, mortified by his fuming expression. John takes a deep breath, wishing he could kick himself in the face now that he finally sees how he hurt you. Moreover, in spite of his own disregard of rules and protocol, this type of behaviour would put any good captain to shame. That is, when directed at a loved one rather than a teammate. “I… I’m sorry.”
“What’s this about?” His gaze remains steady on the ground, even when you come closer to bridge the distance between you. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know, poppet. Maybe it’s just the pints that get me a bit violent. Drank one too many.”
“John-“
“Let’s go home.” Hands tucked into his pockets, he turns on his heel and starts walking again. He’d hold your hand, but after that little incident he’s too terrified to touch you. More than that, he grows bleak at the thought this or similar incidents which perhaps have yet to occur will eventually lead to you resenting him.
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With you, he doesn’t want to be Captain Price.
He wants to be a man rather than a soldier.
A man properly caring for his girl by making sure she doesn’t want for anything.
Trying to sweep the incident on the street under the rug once you’re at his place, John stands in the doorway to the guest room as he watches you rummage in your bag. “Something wrong, love? Forgot your post-concert snack stash?”
You share his smile, the idea of glaring at him evaporated the moment you lock eyes. “Very funny, John.”
“I can make us something, though, if you’re still hungry. I ain’t a good cook, but I think I can manage scrambled eggs on an English muffin. Sober enough for that, at least.”
“I’m alright. Still, thanks. Turns out, I forgot my pyjamas.”
“You can lend a shirt. Let me find one.”
A wee while later, after being occupied a little too long with picking something for you to wear and distracted by the strain in his pants, he returns with a hoodie. He’d rather you be too hot than cold.
“Arms up, doll face.” Without questioning the nickname, you do as he says. His breath hitches as you wriggle into his hoodie, staring up at him with doe eyes.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to pick you up, twirl you around, and tuck you into bed. Say what you will, but beneath the lust there’s the genuine want to take care of you.
Distrustful of his hands, he crosses his arms and nods to the bed. “Hit the hay. I’ll make sure there’s breakfast, so don’t worry about that.”
“Thank you. Goodnight, John.”
He almost breaks, almost reaches out to pat your head to satisfy himself as much as he allows himself. But he doesn’t. “Goodnight, love.”
Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you do Pilates in the morning.
He stops in the doorway, frozen in place by fascination and the feeling he hasn’t been able to shake off since seeing you again for the first time in forever. Honestly, seeing you stretch and bend this way and that doesn’t help him think any clearer either. In fact, it only throws him deeper down the rabbit hole created by the fantasy of you pinned beneath him, breathless and whimpering his name as he has his way with you.
And he just dealt with his morning wood before coming downstairs.
As silent as a ghost, John slips back upstairs to calm himself down yet again, only leaving the bedroom when he hears you in the shower.
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We all know perfectly well why I had to include this particular gif. And no, I’m not sorry.😝😹
Using the towels he prepared for you last night before dragging his ossified arse to bed.
Breakfast is elaborate with croissants, freshly brewed coffee (and your favourite syrup to put in it, salted caramel), orange juice, bread, jams, yogurt, and fruit. The food extravaganza makes you stop in your tracks to take in the sight.
“Thought I’d surprise you and apologize for last night. I stepped out of line.” John settles down and gestures to the one across from him. “Please.”
You nod, still too flabbergasted by the feast.
After a few moments of eating and drinking in silence, you pose the question which has been weighing heavily on your mind. “Why did you really act like that?”
“Guys like that want nothing but sex with a pretty young thing.” Despite the casual tone, his gruff voice is strained as he pours you another cup of coffee. After adding enough syrup to make it to your liking, he slides the cup towards you. “Besides, I promised your dad I’d watch over you, keep you safe.”
You glance to the side. “Bullshit. Like I’m that pretty.”
“You are. I’m surprised you don’t see how easily you can wrap any man around your finger.”
“Right. Let’s say you’re correct. I still don’t know how to… you know… have… sex.”
“Suppose you haven’t found the right person yet. Someone with the patience to take you through the motions. Who wants to take the time to love you right, map every detail of your body and learn what makes you shiver.” His eyes darken. “Someone with experience.”
Prompted by the way he sees you squirm in your seat and the front you try to put up despite the blush on your cheeks, he stands up to walk over to your side. “Someone who’s loyal. Faithful. Committed,” his breath is hot on your ear as his fingers touch your cheek, finding you pliable, your senses full of his cologne and presence, “to you. Maybe also someone who’s a little older.”
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Before you can respond, John’s lips are on yours. His beard feels ticklish, but surprisingly much smoother than you thought it would be. A pleased hum reverberates in his chest when you run your fingers through it.
A lovely sound that turns into a gasp when you push him away, horrified as the truth sinks in. For nothing is more terrifying than common sense.
“I…” you begin, grasping at straws to explain yourself. It doesn’t help your heart cracks at the sight of the sadness in his eyes, badly concealed beneath the mask of the composed and determined captain.
“Y/N-“
“I should go.”
Judging by your tone, John knows he won’t be able to explain himself. “I’ll pack up some food. Have it along the way. A soldier isn’t anything if they don’t have a full stomach.”
“Text me when you’re home.” He can see the fight between confusion and affection rage in your eyes. “So I’ll know you’re safe. It might be broad daylight, but that doesn’t mean nothing won’t happen. Please, Y/N,” the way he says your name with an uncharacteristic plea hidden beneath barely composed sternness makes you waiver. “Just a text. That’s all I ask.”
“Alright.” You pull out your phone, create a new contact, and keep your gaze down towards the screen. “Spill the secret info, captain.”
After a moment’s hesitation, John curls his finger beneath your chin to tip it upwards. There’s a tremble in his hand as he cups your cheek, afraid you’ll pull away.
Change your mind.
And leave him behind.
“Promise?”
You nod, slightly leaning into his touch. “I promise.”
Packed up, the shirt he gave you the first thing to find its way into your bag, and his number in your phone, you silently leave. You know that once you turn around you’ll run right back to him, to what he can offer you. Nonetheless, to avoid problems with your father, you keep walking.
John’s gaze hot on your back, drinking salted caramel coffee.
I might turn this into a proper fic. Ah dinnae ken when or how, but what’s for sure already is that I’ve got plenty thoughts and ideas.😉
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sophswritingthings · 5 months
Note
Ilysm for indulging into my ideas AND I HAVE MORE (consequences of character ai).
So imagine Mizu and her Apothecary Wife are in another random place together looking for directions to wherever and they tried to get directions from a brothel which of course the prostitutes tried getting Mizu inside which made Mizus wife jealous and glare at the prostitutes. (And do things that jealous women do 😍😍😍)
pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader
warning(s): swearing, mentions of prostitution/sex work
a/n: ANON CAN WE BE BEST FRIENDS PLEASE. A FELLOW CHARACTER AI ENJOYER (reader refers to mizu as a man; as do others) 
summary: you very protective over your wife, just as she is you. that causes you to get jealous rather easily. especially when other women are trying to fuck your wife.
word count: 891 words / 4,653 characters
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it had been a few days since you’d been injured; and mizu had been watching your every move. you were pretty sure you hadn’t been five feet away from her since it happened.
“my love..”
you sigh. not that you didn’t like Mizu’s protection, her love, her touch. but you had healed almost fully; your wound was never deep. it was never something that was going to kill you, if treated properly. and it had been, you and mizu both had been able to nurse yourself to health.
“I know what you were going to say,” she replies. “I know you can take care of yourself, (y/n), but I am not taking my chances on your injury again.”
you nod a little. at least she acknowledged it.
“you worry about me, mizu, I know you do. I worry about you, too,” you gently brush a hand across her face. “but we are both more than capable of taking care of ourselves, aren’t we?”
she sighs. her arm releases from your waist.
“yes, we are,” she gently ruffled your hair, running a hand through it—it was soft as silk. “It is part of why I love you so goddamn much.”
you press a soft kiss against her shoulder, “as do I.”
she just wanted to kiss you and never stop; kiss you until she was gasping for air. but in the middle of the towns square.. probably wasn’t the most appropriate place for that.
you noticed the way you were walking. a brothel. a fucking brothel, of all places.
“mizu, why are we going inside a brothel?” not that you didn’t like the women inside; they were honest women doing their honest work. It was one of their only options. but these woman.. being all over her wife..
“I need to speak with madam kaji,” she glanced at you. “and this happens to be where she resides.”
she could see you growing jealous. It was a bit amusing, to her, almost.
you two slip inside, immediately being bombarded by naked men and women. the women weren’t so bad; but you both seemed repulsed at seeing the naked men.
you glance at each other, laughing a little before continuing your quest inside.
you stop at the counter, allowing your wife to do all the talking.
“listen, sir, you cannot just come in here and ask to speak with madam kaji. her clients make appointments months in advance.” the man at the counter looks mizu up and down, “or have you brought her a woman with a contract she should be most interested in?”
mizu grabbed the man by his collar, out if instinct. she flicked down her glasses just a bit, revealing those stone cold blue eyes.
“I did not bring my wife to offer her to a brothel. have you shit for brains?”
she hisses, seeing the man repulsed and terrified at the blue pigment of her eyes. “I have come to speak with madam kaji. Is that so goddamned hard?”
the man looked to be trying to escape mizu’s grasp. though his attempts came to no avail.
“okay, okay! wait in there,” he finally conceded, mizu tossing him back and onto his ass.
she grabbed your hand, leading you inside and past the man. you settle in the corner of the brothel, being approached by two women.
“you seem tense, sir…” they are sat on either side of her, one with a hand under mizu’s chin. “let us help you relax, hmmm?”
“excuse me!” you grasp one of their hands, “get your dirty hands off my husband.”
they look at you in disgust. a wounded woman with a dirty kimono and hair undone.. married to a samurai.
“hmph,” they scoff, they turn back to mizu. “why don’t we show you what real women could give you, hm?”
mizu narrowed her eyes, “thank you, but I was occupied with my wife.” she glanced at you, “whatever you can offer I am sure she could provide me with if I so ask.”
that makes you blush a little. it wasn’t… wrong, but whenever the two of you had sex she was definitely in control—not the other way around.
they roll their eyes, sweeping out of the room to find a man who would be so easy to fall all over them—married or not.
she scoffs, a small smirk plastered on her face as she still sees you glaring at them.
“what? they were placing their hands all over you! my wife,” you say ‘wife’ in a more hushed tone, seeing as nobody but you knew she was a woman. “I have every right to say something.”
she nods a bit, resting her head against the wall.
“I am aware. but it’s cute to see you get all protective over me, my love.” she chuckled a little.
“whatever,” you rest your head against her shoulder, feeling her hand ruffle through your hair.
“you do know that I will never leave you for anyone else, don’t you?” she whispers to you, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head. “you have my heart and soul.”
her words warm your heart. you tuck your head into her shoulder, smiling softly. 
“I am as devoted to you as you are to me. you must promise to never leave my side, mizu.”
“I promise, my love.”
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a/n: oooohhhh that is a promise you cannot keep you DUMBASS. also, I will indulge in this as long a you keep handing it to be. I LOVE IT
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queen-of-the-avengers · 6 months
Text
Wolf In Sheep's Clothing
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2k
Warnings: tw: rape, tw: talk of being raped but not the act itself, tw: verbal abuse, tw: emotional abuse, john is a really bad person, super sweet bucky, relief and being free at the end
Summary: Ever since your failed one-night stand with John, you two have been in a "relationship". He won't let you leave and treats you like less than. Will you ever find your way out of this abuse cycle?
Squares Filled: romania (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
The person staring back at you in the mirror is someone you don’t recognize. How did you get to this point in your life? You used to be so full of life and loved going out with your friends. Now? You’d rather stay in and not see a single person in fear they’re going to see who you really are: a weak bitch. At least, that’s what John tells you daily. Your eyes used to hold so much light but now they’re sunken in. Your skin used to be glowing but now is pale.
Thank God for makeup.
You paint your face to make yourself look happy, to conceal the tear stains away, and to make your skin shine like how it used to. Just as you put the final brush down, John walks in with a scowl on his face.
“You take fucking forever to get ready. The boys are waiting on you. You’re either ready in five minutes or I’m gonna leave you here and I’ll punish you when I get home.”
“I’m ready.”
You turn to him with a fake smile plastered on your face.
“Fucking finally. Come on.”
As soon as John leaves the room, your smile drops. This is getting to be very exhausting and you’re not sure how long you can do this for. Still, you grab your purse and meet John at the car. One of his good friends is hosting a small party with drinks and dinner, so he doesn’t live far from you and John. John has his hand on your thigh the entire ride as a sort of reminder. His touch makes you want to throw up, everything about him you hate, and he’s not a good person. 
Not only is he mentally, verbally, and emotionally abusive toward you, but he crosses the line into physical abuse almost every night. He’s only hit you once out of anger but the physical abuse is sexual. One night a year ago, you were looking for a meaningless hookup to get over your ex and John had taken you back to his place. Everything was going great until the point where you two got into it. You backed down at the last second because you didn’t want to do that to yourself, but John didn’t take no for an answer.
He ended up raping you that night and has been almost every night after that. He became obsessed with you and had been for months before that, and now that he got his hands on you, he didn’t want to let you go.
He won’t let you leave, and you don’t know how to break this cycle.
You and John arrive at his friend’s house just as Bucky and Sam get there. It was John’s idea to invite them as a sort of “get to know my neighbors” type deal. He wants to prove to them that he’s just as capable of being Captain America as Steve was. Bucky isn’t going to go for his bullshit but Sam made him come here.
Bucky smiles when he sees you. He’s always thought you were too good for John but he’s kept his mouth shut because it seemed like you were happy in the relationship. However, when you pass by him to get into the house, he can see how terrified you are in your eyes.
“It’s good to see you two. I’m glad you could make it,” John smiles.
The worst thing about John is that he’s super charming and can convince a town full of people that he’s the good guy.
“Sam made me come.”
“Hush,” Sam says and whacks Bucky on the back of his head.
All four of you walk inside and greet the men who are already here. The only other woman who is here is one of John’s friend’s wife. You’d much rather go off on your own with the wife and make small talk but John keeps you by his side all night. Even as he’s talking to Bucky and Sam about his plans regarding Captain America, his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. Bucky looks at you briefly and sees the look in your eyes. You’re smiling and agreeing with what John is saying but your eyes are telling him a different story.
Something is wrong here but he doesn't know what or how to help you.
Eventually, dinner is served and you’re seated next to John and the other woman. Bucky and Sam are on the other side of the table but Bucky’s eyes haven’t left you since you walked past him. It’s bugging him that he knows something is wrong without knowing exactly what it is. Everyone is eating and having a good time while you pick at your food cautiously. You can eat only what John approves of you to eat since he’s told you constantly that he doesn’t want you getting fat on him. If you look a certain way, he’ll force you to lose weight until you can fit into the clothes he buys you.
It’s your fault for eating too much anyway.
You’re not sure how the conversation ended up on languages, but John is always looking for an excuse to talk about this. You’ve pretty much tuned out this entire evening.
“I don’t know if you guys know this but Y/N can speak five languages, Romanian being one of them. It’s the one I find the most romantic.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I grew up with it,” you nod.
“Tell them how great I am in Romanian,” John chuckles.
The only other person at this table who can speak Romanian is Bucky. This is your chance. This is your chance to ask for some real help without alerting John you’re doing it.
“Am nevoie de ajutor. John nu mă lasă să-l părăsesc. Mă violează de câteva ori pe săptămână. Este abuziv fizic, verbal, mental și emoțional. Mi-e teamă că mă voi trezi într-o zi să-l văd cu un cuțit în față. Vă rog să mă ajutați. Nu mă va lăsa să plec.”
I need help. John won't let me leave him. He rapes me several times a week. He's abusive physically, verbally, mentally, and emotionally. I'm scared I'll wake up one day to see him with a knife in my face. Please help me. He won't let me leave.
You can’t look at anyone in the eyes, especially Bucky. Still, you peek a look at him to see shock written on his face. He understood every word you said but John is still smiling next to you as if you told everyone how loving and kind he is. John reaches over and grips your thigh gently to let you know he has all the power here.
“What did you tell them?”
You look at John and smile at him.
“How much you love me and how much you treat me like a princess. How much I love you.”
“See?” John chuckles. “She’s a keeper.”
John goes back to eating and chatter resumes as normal. However, Bucky can’t stop looking at you. You lock eyes with him before looking down and finishing your meal. The rest of the dinner goes by without a hitch and John is saying goodbye to his friends.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom real fast. I’ll be quick.”
John can’t be his usual self around company so he kisses the side of your head and allows you to do that.
“Hurry back.”
It’s a simple request but it holds so much threat behind it. You leave his side and head to the upstairs bathroom since that’s the only one working. As soon as the door is closed, you rush over to the toilet and throw up everything you ate. You want to cry until there is no more water in you but you have to remind yourself that John is waiting and he’ll get meaner the longer you make him wait.
Someone knocks on the door and the panic and fear in your body spike to a high level. You wipe your mouth with toilet paper and flush the toilet to make it seem like you’re done.
“Who is it?”
“Bucky.”
Relief replaces your panic but the fear is still there. He knows what John does. He knows everything. What is he going to do? You open the door carefully and he pushes his way inside with determination.
“Is what you said true?”
“I can’t do this here, Bucky.” If you talk about it openly, then you’re going to cry and John will know for sure something is up. “If I talk about it, I’ll cry and I won’t be able to stop.” You look at your reflection to make sure your makeup isn’t ruined. “I have to go. John is waiting.”
“Wait just a minute,” Bucky says and prevents you from leaving.
“Bucky, please. John will get angry. I need to leave now.”
“John is no longer going to hurt you.”
“What?”
“Stay here and wait for my return.”
Bucky leaves before you can say anything else. John sees Bucky come back alone and he’s getting a bit frustrated with you. He can’t do anything in front of his friends but just wait until he gets you home.
“Where’s Y/N?”
“In the bathroom. It sounded like she was washing her hands when I passed by. Can I talk to you for a second outside?”
John looks confused but follows Bucky outside nonetheless. John passes by Bucky while he stares at his vibranium arm. The metal flexes with power and Bucky is trying so hard to contain it.
“You want to know an interesting fact about me?” Bucky asks and looks at John.
“What?”
“Vorbesc fluent Romana.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m fluent in Romanian.”
John immediately gets nervous. You told him you told everyone how much you love him but based on Bucky’s reaction, he knows you said something else.
“That’s cool, man. You and Y/N have something in common.”
With his vibranium arm, Bucky sends what’s supposed to be a deadly blow to the face. It would be deadly if the person he is punching didn’t have the super soldier serum in him. John crashes into the car behind him and sets off the car alarm. Everyone inside rushes outside to see what the commotion is.
“Never lay a hand on her again!” Bucky yells angrily.
Bucky sends another hard blow with his flesh hand to the side of John’s face. This is when the fight or flight response in John kicks in. He starts to fight Bucky back but there is no use in stopping the Winter Soldier. They both have the serum in them but Bucky has always been and will always be stronger than John. Bucky grabs John’s collar and pulls him up to his feet only to slam him to the concrete down below. Bucky punches John’s chest so hard with his metal arm that John’s ribs break and he coughs up blood.
“Hey! What the hell is going on!” Sam yells and pulls his friend off your abuser.
“He’s a fucking abuser and a coward! He’s hurting Y/N, and it’s gonna stop now. Don’t fucking go near her or I’ll do more than break your ribs,” Bucky threatens.
Everyone looks at John who just groans in pain with his eyes closed. Bucky pushes past everyone to get back into the house and to the bathroom where you are. You’re sitting on the toilet biting your nails nervously. You have no idea what is going on out there or what Bucky can do to help you. The bathroom door opens and Bucky enters without a second thought. You stand up to greet him when you smell blood. Your eyes trail down his body until they land on his flesh hand which has open wounds on it.
“What did you do?” you gasp.
“I should have killed him.” The realization that you’re free, at least at this moment, hits you and the floodgates open. The tears come flowing out and won’t stop, and Bucky pulls you into his arms. “He will never hurt you again. Sam and I have an extra room you can use.”
Your grip on him gets tighter.
“Thank you,” you cry and shake in his arms.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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captaintrio · 8 months
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listen what i'm saying is, I know the perv trope thing with Sanji is annoying and overplayed. i know it is. i know that some of it is Oda's humor and some of it is like. shit that anime always seems to find one character to shunt onto, and I don't like it and nobody likes it but like
pretending that's the only character trait that he has, or refusing to connect the dots through what appears to both be some vestige of the Vinsmoke programming (since ALL of his brothers have the exact same kind of nosebleed awooga behavior despite their lack of other meaningful human emotions), and a strict adherence to anything Zeff taught him (bc children do not process trauma and traumatic events the way adults do, and at that point Zeff was not only his first and ONLY example of paternal love, but the only hand capable of reaching in and stopping the knife he'd been twisting in his own guts), isn't just stupid, it's a deeply shallow and backwards take of an incredibly complex character.
yes, Sanji is flawed. they're all flawed. that's half the point of the story, that people are more than the sum of their parts, or the circumstances of their birth, or their pain.
Sanji's journey in this story so far is one of broken shackles, of healing, of finding comfort in himself and trust in his found family despite how deep the roots of self-loathing and fear run in him. in that way, of course he took Zeff's perspective to heart. Zeff who cut a piece of himself off and chose Sanji's life over his own well-being again and again, when Sanji's birth father abandoned him to torment and death. Zeff, who thought he was wonderful, and kind, and intelligent, and nurtured his potential, and taught him how to make sure nobody could ever hurt him again, when his birth father discarded him as damaged goods. Zeff, who is proud, in his own way, to know what his son is up to, and for people to know that's his boy, when his birth father's only direct words to him were to make sure to never bring him the shame of letting anyone know they were related.
(and that's the wild part, one of the things that really breaks me about Sanji sometimes, is that he kept that promise, too. If WCI hadn't happened he might never have told anyone at all.)
Zeff saved Sanji in every way a hurt little boy could possibly be saved, and so when he said "You never hit a woman, that's wisdom from when the dinosaurs walked the earth." and "Beat any man's ass you want, but if I ever catch you raising a hand to a woman I'll cut your dick off and then myself too for teaching you that." like???
He's not being a misogynist, he doesn't refuse to fight women because he thinks they're weak and frail and the fairer sex that needs to be protected at all costs by big strong men, he respects Nami and Robin and Vivi and refuses to give up on his friends and even forgives Viola despite her almost killing him and agrees to help her, like?? he internalized everything Zeff ever told him, not just how to make risotto really well or how to pair wine to cheeses and desserts.
does Oda sometimes play that up for laughs, or run it to extremes? yeah, absolutely. I actively like to pretend Fishman Island was 10 episodes of political backstory and Jinbei. But those moments of hyperbole aren't the fucking point of his character, or his development, and to pretend like they are removes Sanji--and an incredibly poignant story about abuse, recovery, self-love, and the acceptance and importance of found family--from the story.
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akajustmerry · 5 months
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I haven't seen chibnall but I have a hard time imagining being worse than moffat. I'm sure it's possible but that man... he was bad. also out of curiosity what's the problem with eccleston? or did you just use his name as a reference for which era was rtd. feel free to ignore this if you like, I hope you have a good day!
hellooo!
look, you won't hear me arguing moffat wasn't bad but believe me Chibnall was worse. He wrote an entire sequence where the Doctor tricks the Master (then played by British-Indian actor Sacha Dhawan) into being caught by the Nazis, knowing what the Nazis would do to him. Like, the Doctor, presenting as a white woman, handed over the Master, her best friend presenting as a Brown man to the most notorious white supremacist regimes in history. And that moment was framed as a successful ploy!! As a "win" for the Doctor.
I'm sorry but, to me, Moffats fucking decrepit cringe Gen X Misogyny did nowhere near as much damage as thoughtlessly portraying the Doctor as someone who will literally use Nazism against a poc and framing it as clever girlboss behaviour. Like, it's not fun that these are the people we have to choose from but one of these things is not like the other.
As for the Eccleston stuff, I was referring to Christopher Eccleston's conflict with the BBC and by extension implied conflict with RTD. The full details of the conflict have never been fully made public but Eccleston has always maintained he quit the show due to the culture created by the show runners and producers. He's said he'd never work with RTD again. Eccleston implied that one of the reasons the relationship between himself and RTD broke down was Eccleston's desire for the Doctor to be a role model whose intellect wasn't inherently tied to being upper class English and had to really fight to use his natural accent. It's worth noting that the we wouldn't have a Doctor without an RP (received pronunciation) accent again until Capaldi. David even mentioned Russell's "enthusiasm" for DT to speak in RP not his natural accent in his interview with Jodie in 2020.
I want to believe that RTD has grown since the mid 00s, and perhaps this time around things will be different. But I think a lot of people point to Moffat as the worst because his bigotry is the most visible and easiest to critique. It's more popular and acceptable to critique sexism against white women than it is to critique racism and classism. But in reality all of these showrunners are white British men who have pulled white British bullshit and I won't stand for Chibnall and Davies shortcomings being scapegoated via Moffat.
Also, this is not a defense necessarily but a lot of people who hate moffat era who did NOT watch Capaldi's seasons and did not watch season 10 with Bill Potts. So their critique often lacks the perspective of Moffat's best season that proves he's capable of writing something genuinely compelling that's not gross and sexiest. Like it genuinely infuriates me when people talk about "moffat who" but they're only really talking about Matt Smiths seasons. Again none of that is a defence but it's just to say that most people who say Moffat is the worst are people who a) are really talking about Sherlock, which, fair enough that was shit b) people who just think 10th Doctor best Doctor and don't actually care about anything after that era in any meaningful way. Or c) people who have a pretty incomplete view of the series was and where it currently is.
omg this is long sorry I hope I don't sound rude I'm not trying to be I just have so many thoughts about this. I hope this answers your question, please let me know if I need to clarify anything <3
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salted-caramel-tea · 8 months
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women in online streaming spaces will always be a victim in whatever they do . they’re oversexualised, they’re targeted higher than men for harassment and stalking, they’re yelled at playing ranked comp games because ‘having a woman on the team sucks’, they’re treated like they’re incompetent, they’re infantilised but their community as being helpless little ladies who are only ever cute and pretty and delicate, their fanbase links the streamer to whatever male is in her vicinity at all times, they’re told they’re only getting followers bc ppl want to fuck them, they’re told they’re not gonna be successful bc nobody wants to watch an ugly nerdy woman play games, they’re treated as though they only involve themselves in online spaces for male attention, they’re used as devices for diversity whilst the people ranting and raving about their inclusion don’t even support their streaming career. there’s no winning.
with online puritan culture it’s so difficult for women to escape these boxes bc everyone keeps forcing them back into them . she doesn’t want to be called cute bc she’s a grown ass woman but you can’t call her a sexy badass either bc that’s objectifying her she’s allowed to be hot and wear what she wants but you’re making her feel like she has to be hot to be popular so no she shouldn’t wear revealing stuff on steam she’s not good at this game she’s playing but you’re not allowed to comment on the fact bc it means you think all women are bad at every game women should be able to compete alongside men bc they’re just as capable but no they shouldn’t bc they’re fragile and men are mean . like it’s impossible to escape the existence of a schrodingers woman
and now this insistence of uplifting and protecting women has lead to their exploitation in discoursing situations . where women’s experiences with misogyny and harassment are used as a plot device to further someone’s argument. there should never be a situation where someone HOPES a woman has terrible stories to tell or that they’ve experienced harm at the hands of a male friend just to validate your dislike of a person or group . there should never be a moment where women are viewed and treated like potential victims by simply existing around men. you should never find yourself betting on the fact that a woman has been harmed and intend to use that experience as a gotcha and you should never find yourself running with rumours involving a female victim before hearing from the woman directly that the event is true and that she consents to havibg her traumatic story shared by you .
as long as online streaming spaces exist women will continue to be used as pawns to mould and manipulate by their fanbase and other creators
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sugasiren · 1 year
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☆ASTRO FACTS☆ ♈️
The Aries Woman & Her Real Power ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Pt 1
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**FYI - this blog contains mature content.
Time to clear up some misconceptions! And confirm some truths. So pull up your seat, grab a snack & prepare for TOTAL fucking honesty. 💯 While this post is primarily about Aries Suns, much of it can also be applied to other Aries placements in general. So take whatever resonates.
♈️ Aries Women are usually into more dominant, masculine types. They adore men who are stronger & smarter than them whom they can learn from. 👍While Aries Women are indeed fully capable of taking care of themselves, they love knowing that they can lean on and trust the man that they love if needed. They prefer reliable partners with backbone. They have NO respect for passive males, as they will DESTROY a weaker man's soul. 🔥 Eat him alive just like the large plant in the 'Little Shop of Horrors' movie. 🤣 It truly ain't pretty!
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♈️ Contrary to popular LIES... many Aries Women are VERY feminine. They aren't doormats though! Nor the girl-next-door type. Ram Women typically embody the "Hot Girl" or the "Femme Fatale" brand of Femininity. ❤️‍🔥 She's often the Leader of the pack whom other women model themselves after & want to be like. Jayne Mansfield, Diana Ross & Mariah Carey - Aries Sun 🌞; Sade, Janet Jackson, Pam Anderson - Aries Moon 🌙; Marilyn Monroe & Liz Taylor - Aries Venus ⚘️. Are any of these women Tomboys?? FUCK NO! They are womanly, spicy & passionate beings. Learn the damn difference.
I sometimes find that Taurus, Cancer & Virgo Women can push the "masculine" stereotype onto Aries Women the most because they wish to be more like them in certain ways. 💯 For instance, most Aries Women aren't taking care of ANY man. But I've seen Taurus paying for men, Cancer mothering men & Virgo trying to train men into being obedient dogs! Add to that, Scorpio Women are often control freaks who insist on leading. Sag & Aquarius Women are rebels who often try to compete with & emasculate any man that they encounter. So who's actually lacking in Femininity here?? Not Aries, from what I see. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Lots of projection going on.
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♈️ Aries Women are indeed outspoken. They are typically confident & in possession of strong boundaries. They are open & honest communicators who aren't afraid to ask for what they want. Most Men LOVE this about them and wish more women were like this! 🩷 Alternatively, deep inside of every Ram Woman is a sweet, adventurous little girl with a heart of GOLD who yearns to feel safe. ❤️‍🔥 A maiden wanting her protector! They're an astonishing blend of pure innocence like the Spring Goddess Persephone + the wit & warrior spirit of Goddess Athena. 🙌 There are sooo many interesting layers to the Aries Woman!! It's insanely fascinating. They are deeply selective with who they disclose all of this to, though. So they can be misunderstood at times.
♈️ Aries Women are Masters of keeping men ON THEIR TOES in a healthy way. They like men and men adore them. 👌 They highly value autonomy, so they extend that to their partners and give them breathing room. They inspire men to be better, more powerful versions of themselves. They do have tempers!! But they don't hold grudges and their sex more than makes up for the trouble. 😺 They are playful and NEVER boring! How TF do you think we keep attracting the best of the best?? Not by being a Basic Bitch, my friends. 🤣
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♈️ According to Marriage Statistics: Aries Women have the longest-lasting marriages with Leo Men, Sagittarius Men, Aquarius Men & Aries Men. ⚘️⚘️ After that, we also have solid odds with Capricorn & Taurus Men. We most often divorce Virgo, Gemini & Libra Men which makes TOTAL sense to me. Not surprised! Aries Women do not enjoy flaky and/or nitpicky partners.
♈️ Aries Women are just as sensitive & intuitive as Cancers in certain ways - we just follow our GUT instincts more than the emotions of our heart. 🔥 We're rarely wrong about someone's character. We bully the bullies! And *if* we care about you, we have your back until the very end. But if you betray us?? You will go from feeling like the most special person in the world... to the most worthless piece of gum scraping off the bottom of our shoe as we walk away from you FOREVER. 🙌 Do not play with us!! Don't play yourself by losing the best prize you'll ever have.
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That's all for now, darlings. Happy Aries Season!! ♈️ And thanks so very much for all of the new follows, shares & support!
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fallout-lou-begas · 9 months
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How do you write Cass? Like my god your version of her is so fucking good
Cass is a woman approaching 40 years old who has had to prove herself as capable from the second her deadbeat piece of shit father walked out. the consequence of this abandonment is that she is very intolerant of indignity. she will not be condescended to, she will not be intimidated, and she will gladly force anybody who talks a talk into proving whether or not they can walk the walk. if this sounds like a very reckless and dangerous way to interact with others than you would be correct but she's tough enough to handle herself. until she isn't, until she's out of her depth, until she shoves the wrong guy back. so maybe she just doesn't think about that. maybe she drinks instead of thinking about that. drinking's made her more friends than enemies like that, anyway; despite etching grudges so deep into her flesh that it scrimshaws her bones, she's not mean. she likes good people. she has respect for mailcarriers and soldiers and doctors. she has principles, very strong principles. life is fucking hard, loyalty in real tough times is a tremendous virtue. so she's more than willing to make amends when an ultimately benign fool manages to learn their lesson, apologizes, maybe wipes the blood off their nose. drinking, fighting, not like she has any other hobbies to bond with people over. her work keeps her too busy for that. and do you have any idea how hard it is to run a caravan when you're some country girl who left home young? the way the men look at you forces you to be tough if you weren't already, fortunately she was plenty tough already but they sure didn't like that. it's not even the sexual entitlement that pisses her off. it's the sweet little smiles like they're talking to some princess who ain't never even broke a horse before. who can't lift a big ol' heavy box herself. she is very intolerant of indignity. she will not be condescended to. but the assholes who run businesses like this, kissing the ring is usually a requirement for partnering up. fuck that. better do it herself. better toughen up again. better kill the first highwayman you run into as an independent caravaneer just to prove you can. doesn't matter he was crying and pissing himself. next guy might be worse. there'll always be a next guy. don't think about it. she just gets good at running a caravan. real good. damn good. so good it gets turned to fucking ash while her back is turned. and then some bitch who somehow become caravan queen of the desert (instead of her?) has the audacity—the fucking audacity—to buy out her name. the one fucking thing she has left. the one fucking thing her deadbeat stupid fucking father left her. well, there's still the necklace. funny how she can hold such a grudge against someone but still wear the reminder around her neck everywhere. maybe something snapped off broke at some point and she never noticed. maybe things would have been easier if she had just been born a man. she doesn't know what being transgender is and she will never think more about it. that's probably not even her deal. probably. maybe she's just angry. maybe it just feels good to be angry. at the very least it feels familiar, and familiar is good. right? right agnes? read @ikroah.
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themultifandomgal · 10 months
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Shelby Clan- Kimber’s Daughter
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This was requested! Hope you all enjoy it.
Trigger Warning- child abuse and kidnap
Dads are meant to protect you, keep you safe from harm. Not harm you. YNs mother died in child birth, leaving her father to resent her. She became his punching bag. All through the her young life she never had a proper meal or any love.
Now at the age of 8 YNs father, Billy Kimber, is going to see the Shelby brothers about fixing horse races.
Billy Kimber walks through the doors of the Garrison a gun in his holster
"Is there any man here named Shelby?" It's quiet for a moment then he pulls out a gun and shoots it in the air making everyone around jump "I said is there any man here named Shelby?" Thomas (Tommy) Shelby walks out of the snug. His brothers following behind him
"Harry get these men a drink. Everyone else go home. Grace go home" Tommy says as to the barmaid as she walks over to the table Tommy and the others just sat at with drinks
"But Mr Fenton said..."
"I said go home"
"I've never approved of woman in pubs, but when they look like that..." Kimber watches Grace walk off, YN stood next to the man looking down not daring to look at the men in front of her
"I don't think kids should be in pubs, but here we are" Arthur grits between his teeth
"You said you wanted a man called Shelby. You've got 3 of them"
"Right, I'd never heard of ya then I did hear of ya, some little Didicoy razor gang" YN shifts uncomfortably "I thought to myself, so what? but then you fucked me over so now you have my undivided attention. By the way which one am I talking to, who's the boss?" 
"Well I'm the oldest" Arthur replies
"Ha clearly"
"Are you laughing at my brother?" John asks with a tooth pick in his mouth
"Right he's the oldest, your the thickness. I'm told the boss is called Tommy and I'm guessing that's you 'cause your looking me up and down like I'm a fucking tart"
"Which one am I talking to? Which one of you is the boss?"
"Well I'm Mr Kimber's adviser and accountant" Kimber then stand up
"And I'm the fucking boss" he shouts making YN flinch.
Finally the meeting is over and YN leaves with her dad. He takes her home but then leave her in the house alone while he goes off to fuck some poor woman who has no idea what he's capable of, or maybe they do. Not before he beat her, leaving a red hand print on her face. YN takes herself upstairs. A noise startles the young girl and a bag is placed over her head.
"You fucking idiot. I told you to take her not suffocate her" YN hears the ruff voice of the man her dad was speaking to earlier. The bag is ripped off her head
"Bloody hell Tommy" Arthur breathes out seeing the mark on YNs face
"Did you fucking hit a child?" Tommy yells at the man that took the child from her home
"What? No I.."
"Who did this?" Tommy once again tells
"My..my dad sir"
"Fuck. Arthur take YN to Polly. John and I are going to pay a visit to our friend"
While at Polly's Arthur quickly became very attentive to the little 8 year old
"I'm not much of a chief, but err I can make a sandwich. You hungry?" YN nods her head
"You can have a slice of cake as well love" Polly smiles warmly at YN
"Cake? I've never had cake before"
"Well then scrap the sandwich, Aunt Polly's cake is the best in all of Small Heath" Arthur places a huge slice of cake in front of YN who stares at it, scared she won't like the taste
"What's that?" She asks pointing to the jam and cream filling
"That YN is Polly's homemade strawberry jam and cream. You'll love it. Give it a try" YN nervously picks up the cake and takes a bite. The flavours dancing on her tongue
"This is delicious. Thank you"
That evening, Esme comes over with some of the kids old clothes and helps bathe her and put her to bed. She finds the Shelby family in the living room of the small house at Small Heath
"That girl has got one hell of a road ahead of her. She's littered with scars, looks like belt marks"
"Shit" Arthur draws out a breath "poor girl"
"Right well I'll ring up an orphanage tomorrow..."
"Tommy she can't go to an orphanage" Polly says looking at her nephew
"I'll look after"
"Arthur you can barley look after yourself. Your in no fit state to look after a child" Tommy scolds his brother
"Let him try Tom, it might be good for Arthur"
And good it was. Since that day Arthur stopped drinking, didn't take any drugs. He was a father figure to YN. Cared for her and provided for her. Even stopped messing around with women before he found a woman who welcomed YN with open arm. The finally had a family, that's all YN ever wanted.
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spidersnakes · 2 years
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Ivar x Reader (Forced Marriage)
A.N: Do you guys want another part or is this just a horrible oneshot made by my daddy issues?
Summary: Being Sigurd's wife, you were used to him arguing with his younger brother, but when things get too far, you somehow end up being forced to marry Ivar.
TW: Forced marriage (?), SA, curse words, violence, abuse, bit of spitting. Generally a lot of heavy stuff that a lot of people aren't comfortable with.
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You hated him. Absolutely. And you were sure he reciprocated the feeling, but his big fat ego and pride led you to this moment.
You had only bitten back a smile when Ivar and Sigurd were fighting, just after you had gotten married to the latter. It was a marriage of convinience for the both of you, knowing Sigurd wasn't at all interested in females and you wanted to escape the countless men thirsting after you.
Sigurd wasn't the easiest, but you had bonded with him throught your love for music. And next thing you knew, Ivar had grabbed you by the throat, a knife to your throat.
You were just a way for him to release his rage and grief. But when Sigurd spoke up and told him to leg you go, the usual snarky tone prominent in his voice it seemed to set the younger Viking off even more. Before your husband could laugh at his smart insult at his brother, prodding the matter that hurt him the most, he was laying at the floor motionless, his eyes empty of light and no sing of life in his limp body.
And so Ivar married you. He grieved Sigurd, you could see the regret and realisation in his eyes, but his stupid rage blinded him once again. You knew denying him would mean joining your friend, but a death like that would never get you in Valhalla.
Ivar paused, seeing you sitting on the bed already when he entered your bedroom. He closed the door behind him but by the time he turned around, you had gotten close to him, one hand grasping his tunic.
"What are you doing?" He took in a sharp breath, his eyes going back and forth on your hand and eyes.
"It's our marriage night, My Prince."
He hummed in acknowledgement at your statement, understanding the situation, but he still seemed confused. "Did my brother touch you?"
That made you pause. Being smart about it would only get him angry, you knew better than defend Sigurd right now. "Ivar, Sigurd was... not interested."
"Was that your fault?"
"My Prince, I think you are aware of what your brother's... preferences were. I think he wouldn't be interested in any woman." You stopped him before the conversation could progress, and your lips softly touched his only for a moment before you pulled away and locked your gazes.
He bit his bottom lip, seemingly aware that you didn't do this because you actually cared about him. He just wanted to believe you, and it made everything a lot easier.
He initiated another kiss, just as soft as the other one and let his hands rest on your waist and pull you into him. You almost forgot who he really was, meeting softness you could have never guessed this man was ever capable of. He was anxious everytime your lips parted, they wouldn't meet again even as his tongue entered your mouth and started to explore it.
You gripped the knife behind your back tighter, preparing to stab him. Albeit a Viking, you weren't a very good warrior, prefering to go on raids rarely and only to take care of people and get inspiration for your music. Stabbing Ivar like this... if you didn't succeed right away you would face horrible consequences. You barely missed his neck as he moved and lost his balance, landing right in top of you on the floor as the knife fell on some far away corner of the room.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" He yelled, his composure long lost. To think those soft kisses were only a lie so you could kill him... you weren't any better than him, you were not the prideful woman you presented yourself as, but a cunning, manipulative bitch.
"That's right. He wouldn't be interested in anybody with a smaller cock than his. And you don't even have one." He laughed, remembering your previous conversation. "You found your husband funny, no? You laughed at his last joke. I am your husband now, but you don't seem very amused."
"You are a bad joke, cripple." You muttered, titling your head to meet his eyes. The sadistic smile on his face didn't give it away, but you could see the anger behind his eyes.
They were so blue, so beautiful, but so cruel.
"Am I not man enough for you? Is that it? But my brother was?" He gritted his teeth as he pulled on your hair, forcing your head back. "Answer me."
You spat on his face, but he only wipped it off, amusement and hate prominent in his features. "You laughed when he called me impotent, perhaps I should show you otherwise. It is our wedding night after all, you said so yourself."
"Don't touch me--" He raised himself enough to flip you around under him, your face now against the furs on the floors.
"Or what? You will try to stab me? Who would justify your murder, just because I wanted to touch you on our wedding night?"
"Ivar-- Ivar please-!" You inhaled sharply, trying to contain the tears in your eyes as he ripped the back of your dress and pressed his clothed erection against your bare ass.
Ivar was shocked himself. He really did think he was impotent, he never lusted over a woman like his brothers, and the Margrethe incident didn't help his insecurities. So why did you, a woman that barely had any experience herself and tried to kill him have him hard because of a few kisses.
His wife, he reminded himself. He just wanted to scare you at first, but now he actually wanted-- needed to feel you. It felt like he knew what he was doing as he let his hand wander from your hair down your body and to your pussy, feeling the slightly wet area. He felt you shiver as he kissed your neck and slowly pushed two fingers inside you, the hands he had pinned on top of your head now struggling against his grip again.
"Unless you want me to finish inside you until I am sure you are bearing my heir, stop fighting against me, wife." Even he questioned his own actions. He could just use your velvety thighs, or just push himself inside you and be done with it.
So why was he, a man that detested you kissing your neck trying to get you wet and open you up, and savoring every little sound you tried so hard to bite back? It didn't make sense.
In reality, it hurt. Your wrists were sure to bruise from his grip, his teeth nibbling on your neck clumsily felt weird and your whole body hurt on the furs, his whole weigh holding you down. The tears you held back hurt the most of all, along with the sounds of pleasure fighting to escape you as his fingers moved inside you.
"Ivar..." You meant to insult him, but it only came out as a meowl of his name as he rubbed against you. You could feel his disgusting smirk against your neck at the clench of your walls around his fingers.
"If I didn't know any better I would say you are enjoying this." He groaned as you raised your hips in an attempt to roll him over and slammed you down, roughly biting your neck.
Your gasped in pain, your nails digging in his hands. He licked over the bite and took his fingers out of you to line himself up against you.
"Stop, stop please. Ivar, w-we can learn to get along and make this work, I know you didn't actually want to marry me because you care about me. Please don't do this." You begged him, but didn't dare to meet his gaze this time.
"Should have thought about that sooner princess." He mumbled and pushed himself inside you slowly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of your walls hugging perfectly around him.
"Y-You bastard!" You groaned and finally freed your arms and clenched the furs under you. He started moving slowly, testing the waters and you couldn't hold the tears in anymore. You let them run down, sniffling and whimpering more the harder and deeper he went.
His tongue sweeped across your cheek, wipping the salty liquid away from your face but that only made you cry harder. It hurt, but the fact it felt good and that Ivar was the one doing this were far wprse than the physical pain you were feeling.
"F-Fuck."He groaned m, his thrusts getting sloppy. You didn't even bother -or trust yourself- to plead him to pull out, the screams you held under your tears at the knot in your belly tightening would spill out right away if you tried to speak.
"Open your mouth." He panted, and seeing as you ignored his command he forced your jaw open and held your tongue down with two fingers. He spat in your mouth and closed it, watching you closely. "Swallow." You did as he said this time, gagging at the spit that went down your throat combined with all the crying.
"Do you want my seed?" He bit his bottom lip, he obviously knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear you.
"Ivar, no!" You screamed, and he pulled your head back. You hiccuped, shaking your head 'no'. He grabbed your hair and asked again, his hips rutting into you desperately.
"I don't care." He mumbled and thrust particularly hard inside you, sending jolts of pain and pleasure all over your body. Your own orgasm silently overtook you no matter how hard you tried to deny it, the feeling of your clit brushing against the fur and his warm seed filling you up send you over the edge.
He moved off of you and laid on his back next to you, confused by your reaction. He had passed countless warriors raping women, and every single one screamed and cried, and hit them, but you were quiet. He sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, meeting your tear stained face and puffy eyes.
You sniffled, shaking harder than before as you buried your face in his hand and leaned against the light touch. His breath hitched in his throat at the gesture. You didn't even seem to recognise that he was the one that hurt you. You just moved into him, desperately trying to hide in his embrace in an attempt to feel safe.
And against his better judgement, once more, he let you do whatever you want. Affection was something only his mother had ever showed him, and she wasn't the type to show it throught physical touch. He needed the soft touches, even though they felt foreign, the way his body tingled under your touch was more than enjoyable.
Strange how after he did something like this to you, he felt the need to protect you and take care of you. His guilt was nearly eating him alive while he watched you, passed out in his arms. How did the marriage he only agreed to out of spite and to end some rumors turn out like this?
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f1ghtsoftly · 7 months
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I’ve put this other places, but basically-even if no woman was hurt in pornography, even if no woman was trafficked into pornography against their will getting off to porn would still be gross as fuck.
But usually when I talk about why I was turned off from pornography as a child it has very little to do with the reality that woman are brutalized in it’s creation but the very nature of it as a commercial sex transaction. What is the point of sex if not to authentically bond with another person? Why is sexual desire divorced from just, desiring another person? I could, and still can’t, wrap my head around women as meat, women as objects, women as things to use. What’s the point of that? Where is the gratification if not in the pleasure of your partner? Even temporarily. Why fuck someone you know doesn’t want it? Where is the enjoyment out of causing someone harm?
It bothers me that “normal men” “good men” “feminist men” can cross that line of consent so easily and they can go about their lives and interact with women as friends, mentors, lovers, daughters.
To enjoy viewing pornography knowing that the actress (and sometimes the actor) in the “film” are doing this for money and continue to view it….it is morally wrong. It is a form of sexual assault. It pollutes you mentally and emotionally as you learn to excuse harm done to the others in order to appease your animal instincts. People who watch porn are bad people, they are dangerous people. They are people who watch someone get raped and enjoy it and don’t trouble themselves to think about it further.
But why don’t we see it that way?
The male hatred for women really goes beyond our ability as women to fully understand I think. Like really, consider what would be pleasurable about fucking a corpse. Think about how you’d have to pry a woman’s limbs apart, how cold she would feel, how lifeless the experience would be and the entire time you would simply not think about, not care, or actively like that fact that you’re violating something sacred that you’re treating what was once a loved human being like an object. Or a woman asleep which is much in the same. The fact that men get off on the pleasure of knowing we might wake up. How can a woman enjoy it? Wouldn’t you want your partner to be happy? To love you? To feel pleasure because of your touch? What gain is it to you to know that women live in fear of your desire? How absolutely depraved is man to think that rape is love?
Men frighten me, not because I always believe they’re malicious in a deliberate way, but because they are capable of dehumanizing women so utterly, utterly completely that her horror is not even relevant to them. It’s just an inconvenance as trivial as not liking her “job”. It’s a joke, a dalliance. It’s not serious. Desecration is not sufficient to describe the ways in which male behavior violates the human spirit. How can they live with themselves. How can they live with the lie.
——///
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mxtxfanatic · 1 year
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Just finished Mistakenly Saving the Villain, and I like the diversity of queer realization in this text:
You have Song Qingshi, the transmigrated main character, who—between having a progressive, fatal illness and an all-consuming love of medical knowledge—forewent any romantic attraction for any gender in the pursuit of learning all that he could with his waning energy and short lifespan. Then suddenly he is given a healthy body with all the time and (eventually) resources in the world, and he is finally able to slow down and think about his feelings. But he has no reference point except for other (straight) people’s courting rituals, he only knows of other queer male romances through secondhand stories (and only that they exist, no specifics), and the men who do like him don’t ever plainly tell him as he’s coming to his own realizations. So he’s essentially on his own to figure out his feelings, but he nonetheless still finds his way there.
You have An Long, a secondary character and best friend to the original (and now transmigrated) Song Qingshi, who has only ever seduced women but is now suddenly confronted with the fact that he loves his best friend who is also a man. Sure, An Long isn’t new to romance, per se, and he’s definitely not innocent to sex, but being with a man has to be different from being with a woman, right? While he, too, has no frame of reference for a queer relationship, his main struggle is not necessarily in being queer, but in whether to preserve his already hard-won friendship with the (supposedly) aroace Song Qingshi—the reason for his queer awakening—or to take the plunge and confess, putting said friendship on the line at the risk of losing everything.
You have Yue Wuhuan, the love interest. Putting aside all of his life trauma for the moment, Yue Wuhuan is a person who knew he was queer from childhood. He never has any doubts, no imaginings that he’d eventually end up with a woman, and even in his fantasy world, he sees himself pursuing the vague idea of a husband that eventually takes the shape of Song Qingshi. It is everyone else around him (pre-fucked up traumatic years) who imagined he’d eventually take a wife, but he, himself, was sure and steady in his queerness from the moment he could conceive of non-platonic relationships.
Then you have false protagonist Bai Zihao who came from a conservative community and into his queer “realization” through a traumatic circumstance. Because this realization was through coercion, he doesn’t consider it an actual realization and instead internalizes it as a thing he is capable of for survival. When he is no longer “gay for survival,” he struggles to accept that yes, he really does like men and no this isn’t a manifestation of trauma. He must grapple with the conservative nature of his upbringing and the trauma of his awakening in order to eventually have a functioning relationship with another man.
So despite the fact that all four characters are queer men, they each come into that realization through vastly different routes and experiences, and none of them are considered more valid than the other by the narrative. It’s pretty neat.
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hecksupremechips · 26 days
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Can we talk about mitsuham I think we should talk about mitsuham yes I’d like that very much
Imagine Mitsuru her life has been planned out for her by a bunch of men her choices are not hers to make every move is political she is nothing but a tool forced to fight as a child never allowed to burden anyone with her feelings. Her life isn’t hers, it’s never been hers for a second, she exists to further the careers of the men around her. The first two friends she makes are both boys and she was in charge of leading them, using them just to further the Kirijo agenda. Genuine friendship did blossom between them, but things fell apart pretty quickly. Shinjiro can’t control Castor, something is seriously wrong with him, he kills someone, then he leaves and the Kirijos cover it up. Was it to protect him, or to protect themselves? Mitsuru certainly doesn’t know anymore but she’s lost a friend and can’t reach him again, he’s too traumatized by personas and Akihiko is still there but he’s always so stuck on Shinjiro and Mitsuru feels like she failed both of them. Just more men for her to let down by not being good enough
Then there’s Kotone. Sweet, strong, clumsy, talented Kotone. She’s so bubbly and friendly, but behind those warm smiles is horrible loneliness. Pain. But she’s never ever gonna let anyone see that. She busies herself by taking care of everyone else, listening to their problems and never burdening them with her own feelings. She can just fix everything and make everyone happy if she works herself hard enough. She just has this way about her, so reliable and so kind
And Mitsuru watches Kotone from above. Trusts her to be the leader, or maybe she just wanted to push a burden onto someone else for a change. Someone who’s able to take on burdens with a smile for fucks sake. And Kotone leads, seemingly effortlessly, and is able to recruit several members in a short time and achieve just so much more than Mitsuru could in her entire lifetime. Just, perfectly. Without even possessing any prior knowledge of the dark hour or personas. And she does this while being so emotional, so social, so weird, so fucking cute, it’s absolutely nauseating. This should be fine, right? It’s what Mitsuru’s always wanted, for someone else to ease her burden. And hell, it’s a woman too, a woman who’s perfectly capable of doing it all without a bunch of men helping her. It’s inspiring, isn’t it?
But there’s the pain. The envy. Kotone is perfect and she doesn’t even have to try. Mitsuru on the other hand has been shaving herself down to nothing just to be allowed a place. She makes the perfect grades and wears the beautiful clothes and applies the fucking makeup and is mature for her age and never speaks out or feels anything that could possibly make her be seen as a human, a filthy fucking human. So why does a woman as unashamed as Kotone get to have it all? And why is Mitsuru still here, still acting as the Kirijo tool, still doing whatever she possibly can to hurt herself to make a man feel better? Why isn’t she useful anywhere? It’s not fair
And then when she actually spends the time with Kotone she’s trying so hard to be that wise and mature figure she’s always been, trying so hard to force herself to smile through the pain, but she’s talking to someone who can see right through that shit cuz Kotone Shiomi invented lying through her teeth to make others feel better. It’s annoying really, how Kotone is supposed to be the childish one, yet it’s Mitsuru who can’t get it together and can’t seem to look into those bright eyes without breaking. And Kotone isn’t disgusted by what she sees, even though Mitsuru is being unreasonable and emotional and talking about wanting to run away and how much she hates her life and how she’s not only eating fast food but enjoying it, letting herself enjoy an indulgence that won’t make her pretty anymore. No, Kotone sees this and listens and encourages it and celebrates it, celebrates how utterly human Mitsuru is. She holds her hand and says "let me take on your burden". And it’s horrible, this kindness, Mitsuru hasn’t even broken all her bones to make Kotone happy, so why is she being so fucking nice? And then something breaks, and Kotone defends her. Stands up for her against a man. Lets herself once again take a hit to protect someone else. And it’s just too familiar, too much to fucking bear, and it pisses Mitsuru the fuck off. And she is able to tell a man to go fuck himself, because no one gets to fucking talk to this girl like she isn’t the most amazing person ever to exist. Not after everything she’s done, everything she still does, not after giving her all and never once asking for anything in return. And in standing up for Kotone, Mitsuru is able to stand up for herself for the first time in her life. And she looks at Kotone and says "let’s take on each other’s burdens"
Oh and also they watch a scary movie together and hold hands and ride a motorcycle and Mitsuru calls Kotone adorable I mean that’s pretty gay man
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