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foxyafroninja · 1 year

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Thoughts I have about MW141 crew

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Prompt- Bar fights (you get in one)

“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“

Price 🧔🏻‍♂️-

Personally I believe Price would let you fight a little. At least let you get a few good punches in before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and starts pulling you away.

“Alright that’s enough of that dear. You’ve made your point.”

Will probably chastise you a little later as he patches you up about controlling your temper

But is also proud that his training with you is sticking and you can hold your own in a fight.

Soap 🧼-

Will 100% let you fight your own battles and is cheering you on as you kick ass

“Hey man aren’t you going to stop them?” Soap-“ Are you nuts!? Look at em’ go! KICK THEIR ARSE, BABY!”

Would probably have a betting ring going as you fought.

Is so proud of you after it’s over. Kisses you so passionately and is kinda turned on by watching you kick ass.

Gaz 🇬🇧-

Oh this sweet boy is trying to stop it before it even gets that far. He’s already stepping between you and the other person.

“ Trust me mate, you REALLY don’t want to do this”

He isn’t scared that you’ll GET hurt he’s scared that you’ll maybe take it a bit to far and get them banned from your favorite pub

Is fighting right along with you if it kicks off. Not because you can’t handle yourself, but because you’re a team and teams stick together.

Ghost 👻-

Not even phased when he hears the punch. Just tosses back his drink and he is right there with you

“Nobody fights alone, yeah?”

Literally a tag team “free bird” choreographed type fight. Like omg you two are a deadly whirlwind of fists. It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t so scary.

Walking out of the pub side-by-side after taking out like 15 people. That’s the 3rd pub this month you are banned for life from but who cares. You can drink at home.

Alejandro💃🏻-

Another boy who hears the punch and just casually watches from near by, enjoying the show

“Oi, you gonna stop ‘em?” Literally laughs in their face. “ Hermano, I don’t feel like losing an eye tonight.”

Steps in as soon as you break a bottle. Slaps the bottle out of your hand, tosses you over their shoulder and walks out of the bar.

Smack you on the ass as you try and get free. “ That’s enough out of you gato montés”

Graves 🤠-

Is already throwing the first punch in your fight. Nobody talks to his S/O like that and keeps their teeth

Southern gentleman pride dictates he must beat that person to a bloody pulp. The fact you are helping him do it is just a bonus.

Will make sure they apologized to you before he knocks them unconscious. Not like you can understand what they said they are so messed up but it’s the principle.

Has never been more in love with you than in this very moment. “Darlin’ you are so sexy when you are mad… let’s get out of here.”

Rodolfo 🇲🇽-

Sees where this is heading and is trying to stop it before it starts. It’s been a long day can’t they just have a nice night out

Starts pulling you away and then hears the person say something under their breath about him. You freeze and he lets out a deep sigh “So close”

You are throwing punches and kicks even as he is pulling you off the person. You are locked on and ready to kill.

Eventually drags you away and chastises you a little for starting a dumb fight, but it warms his heart that you are so willing and ready to fight for him.

—@—@—@—@—@—@—

Aw man that was fun lol I’ll have to think of more of these things.

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ikkaku-of-heart · 4 months

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Ikkaku is making a pair of shirts that have "You don't wear shirts with this deep a v-neck and suck at sex" printed on them and is giving one to Law and one to Mihawk. For reasons (mostly making Shanks jealous lol).

#goshiikkuburcdo #medicus-mortem #Whispers of the Heart (Dash Commentary)#A Few Screws Loose (crack)#Oh Captain My Captain (Law)#Nocturne Blade (Mihawk)#(Ikkaku just being an instigator/enabler as is her right)

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nessietessimal · 2 years

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More Mister Berry, this time with added child (including @sketchygabz adorable lil' bean Tirri) and a Treasure Planet AU that is happily slamming me into Space Davy Jones' Locker 🏴‍☠️🔥

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blackladynerd · 1 year

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Black Sails is one of the best shows ever made. Our Flag Means Death is a good show.

#black sails #ofmd #apparently I missed some drama so I’m just instigating #I do enjoy both shows #but captain flint is my guy

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emcads · 2 years

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if i trusted myself to complete a big project i’d write the mutiny era sequel myself

#✘; I HAVE SEVENTY TWO EXAMS AND I HAVE NOT STUDIED FOR ONE ( ooc )#// tbd #HHH sometimes i just wish i could look at ann's notes. i know she had it all plotted to unfold so perfectly.#the way barbossa and esme both being so experienced and being pirate lords would TREMENDOUSLY undermine jack's self confidence at being a #rather new pirate captain. as an eitc captain his word was basically *it* at sea (subject to company oversight and all. but merchant #captains had rather complete control over the crew) vs as a pirate captain constantly being subjected to the crew's and officers' whim #he would be so frustrated and yet ALSO desperate to impress them. making him perfectly vulnerable and an easy target for barbossa to lead #the mutiny against him #and barbossa would win esmeralda's trust so so easily #charming her with fancy dinners and nice clothes and long stories ( i say to you: who do you think taught barbossa the monologue abt the #aztec gold that he delivers to elizabeth? it wasn't jack )#but i think he would realize that having esmeralda and venganza there was a danger to him when he was plotting and he would absolutely #instigate drama to drive a wedge between them #poking at jack mooncalfing over a lady and trusting her with the coordinates but not his own first mate ? tsk tsk #--> this is to say i think esme was involved LEADING UP to the mutiny but i don't believe she was present.#for one because she would have fought for jack. for two because i can't see her participating in a quest for the gold except to return it #for generational trauma reasons and also bc she doesn't want that curse lol #so maybe barbossa betrayed her first ? but managed to convince jack that he wasn't involved. selling venganza out to the navy or smth and #staging it as a helpless capture #or they just had a dramatique break up. WHICH WOULD INCIDENTALLY MAKE A GOOD TIME FOR BARBOSSA TO INSTIGATE A MUTINY #when jack is heartbroken & defenseless :)#anyway im sure mutiny fics are out there i'm just thinking out loud here

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rileyslibrary · 5 months

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You burst into the office and slam the door behind you. Ghost jumps from his seat and looks up from the paperwork he’s been filling out. His eyes widen as you sprint towards him.

“What the f-”

“Just play along,” you interject, dragging a chair and plopping down. You grab two sheets of paper from the pile next to him and snatch the first pen within reach.

He keeps staring at you dumbfounded before managing to utter something.

“Can you at least-”

“Nope,” you cut him off while focusing on the papers and nibbling on the pen. “No, can’t do. You need to trust me on this one.”

“Define what ‘this one’ is.” He demands.

“Shhhh,” you hush him, waving your hand dismissively and glancing over your shoulder at the door. “He’s coming.”

“Who’s com-”

The door swings open, and footsteps approach. They settle beside you, and a hand slams on the desk. Ghost looks at the hand, then upward.

“Captain,” he says. “What brings you in-”

“For the love of everything you hold dear, Simon, you better not be involved in any of this,” Price warns. He slams his hand on the desk again and looks at you. “Why were you running away from me?” He asks.

You stare at him with furrowed eyebrows before removing the pen from your mouth.

“I wasn’t running away from you, sir,” you reply, pointing the pen at Ghost. “I was late for my meeting with the lieutenant.”

Price turns towards Ghost, seeking for an appropriate answer. The lieutenant sits up straight on his chair, clasps his hands together and motions with his head towards you.

“Very punctual, this one.” He says.

“Cut the crap, Simon,” Price orders and turns to you. “What were you doing inside Bravo Unit’s barracks last night?”

“Bravo Unit has barracks?” You ask Ghost. He shoots you a side-eye and raises one eyebrow.

“Stop playing dump and answer the question,” Price warns and points at Ghost. “And don’t look at him—he’s not covering for you this time.”

“How about you start from the beginning, boss,” Ghost interjects. “What happened?”

“Someone broke into Bravo Unit’s barracks last night and stole every inch of toilet paper they had,” Price says, looking at you, then turning to Ghost. “And not just toilet paper, mind you! Kitchen rolls and tissues are gone as well.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Ghost murmurs, shaking his head. “Such an inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience, Simon?” Price whispers, leaning on the desk. “The entirety of Bravo Unit had to wipe their ass with parchment paper this morning.”

Ghost brings his hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He lowers his head and takes deep, laboured breaths. Price is already fuming, so you decide to intervene.

“I was never inside Bravo Unit’s barracks, sir,” You state. “I just happened to walk through it once.”

“Oh, I see, I see—you walked through it once,” Price repeats, nodding. He removes something from his pocket and slams it on the desk.

“The instigator left this behind,” he states, looking back and forth between the two of you.

You and Ghost look at the garment on the desk—it’s a skull balaclava that once belonged to the lieutenant. He gave it to you last Winter since your ears and nose tend to get cold during patrol.

“Now,” Price states, “would you care to brief me on who this belongs to?”

“Hm,” you murmur, setting the pen and papers on the desk. You pick up the mask and start examining it. You look at Ghost, who stares at the mask with his eyeballs threatening to pop out of his face. He shoots you a deathly stare, and you redirect your attention to Price.

“That looks like it must be the lieutenant’s,” you reply, lifting the balaclava next to Ghost’s masked face. “With the skull and all—it’s a perfect match, actually.”

You both turn to Ghost, whose expression has transformed from utter disbelief to an inexplicable calmness.

“Indeed, that looks exactly like the one I lost,” Ghost confirms, taking the mask from you.

“Is it now?” Price asks in a high-pitched voice, tilting his head to the side. “Do me a favour and smell it for me, Riley.”

Ghost does exactly as he’s told. He brings the mask close to his nose, sniffs it, and nods. “Yup,” he confirms. “Smells exactly like me, too.”

Price sighs, takes a bottle from the pocket of his cargo pants and slams it on the desk. “So you want me to believe you use ‘Magnolia Blossom with Moroccan oil’ as a shampoo?” he asks.

“I’ve got dry hair.” Ghost shrugs.

“You should try coconut oil instead,” you suggest to Ghost, “it’s cheaper.”

Price kicks the chair next to you, and you both turn to look at him. He presses his lips together, and a red flush creeps on his neck, threatening to reach his head. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him.

“Why did you go through peoples’ stuff without their permission, sir?”

“Oh, I wasn’t going through anyone’s stuff,” Price explains. “You just were dumb enough to ditch the balaclava right behind the barracks. The detection dog picked up on the smell and led us to your stuff—it was a perfect match, just like you said.”

“You had sniffer dogs involved in this?” Ghost asks.

“I had to.” Price replies. “Pair the parchment paper with a day full of training, and Bravo Unit developed the worst rash they had since wearing diapers.”

A chuckle escapes Ghost, and he tries to silence it with his hand. He takes quick gasps of air, and you try to retain your laughter, too.

“Please tell me you’re not laughing!” Price shouts.

“No, boss,” Ghost says and wipes his tears, “It’s just so-”

“-sad,” you say and wipe your eyes as well. “It’s so sad.”

Price looks at you, then at the lieutenant. Now defeated, he sighs and throws his head back, shutting his eyes.

“I’m done with both of you.” He says, lifting his arms and dropping them to his sides. “I expect all toilet papers to be returned today. And as for you, you are responsible for cleaning Bravo’s toilets for the entire month.”

“For the whole month?!” You shout and wince at the idea.

“Be glad I didn’t make you wipe their asses as well.” He shouts as he walks to the door and slams it behind him.

Ghost recovers from the laugh and directs his attention to you. He tries to be serious but his teary eyes betray him.

“That was a hazardous operation you did back there,” he says.

“I didn’t do anything.” You reply, still vouching for your innocence. “But whoever did it taught Bravo Unit not to mess with our thermostats again.”

Ghost shakes his head. “I just happened to walk through the barracks once,” he says, repeating your earlier statement. “What were you thinking? Who walks through barracks?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, shrugging. “Ghosts would be my guess.”

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yeyinde · 3 days

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The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

#141 x reader #my grandpa is going into town and im going w hin so i wrote this on the way sorry for the mistakes

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otomestatus · 4 months

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Can you do a Matsuno Chifuyu request about the the reader aka his girlfriend being called by his last name? Like the other Toman boys love to call Chifuyu’s girlfriend by his last name to mess with them and their reactions changing over time etc (hope this made enough sense…)

a/n: i think this kinda isn't great, but i had fun taking my time writing it. :3c

excuse me, that's not my name !

"oi, matsuno!"

you turn around instinctively to the sound of your boyfriend's last name being called, but he was nowhere in sight when you did. raising a brow, your head tilted slightly to the left as you made eye contact with two of his toman friends. mitsuya and mikey were grinning from ear to ear from their table at a cafe.

"told you she'd respond to it!" mikey snickered. this only left you further confused. hesitantly, you stepped towards their table and rested a hand on your hip, head lulled to the side as you shot them a befuddled stare.

"well yeah. i thought chifuyu was around." you frowned while mikey leaned back in his chair with that smirk you knew too well. it spelled mischief. something nagged you to turn and walk away, but against your better judgement you stayed put.

"nah, his wifey is though." mitsuya laughed-- lighthearted and teasing-- when the realization hit you. his arm rested on the back of his chair as his own smirk spread across his face. your cheeks burned hot with an embarrassment you hadn't felt since your friends caught onto your crush.

you sigh, "you're both unbelievable... don't stay that in front of him, got it?"

that would save you quite a bit of embarrassment, but as soon as the words rolled off your tongue you knew you more than likely ended up instigating further teasing.

you were gonna kill them plain and simple. at least that's what you told yourself as you stood there, mortified and speechless. it wasn't just mitsuya and mikey anymore as the rest of the captains had gotten in on their little joke as well. the moment you arrived for the toman meeting as requested by chifuyu, smiley did not hesitate to call out to you with his signature grin.

"good to see ya, matsuno!" he waved to you from across the flood of toman members scattered about in front of their typical meeting spot. you whipped your head around in response, but this time it wasn't because you thought he was speaking to chifuyu. no, you had grown vigilant of their little joke, fearful they'd use it in front of other people just as smiley had.

emma, who stood beside you, also glanced towards the fourth division captain with a lukewarm glare, "they're children! i tried to stop mikey, but he never listens..."

you hadn't bothered to even wave back and chose to turn your attention back on emma, "they're getting ballsy. i don't know what i'm gonna do if they start doing it in front of him."

"doing what in front of me?" a voice spoke out behind you, causing you to jump and whip around to meet your boyfriends curious gaze. his head was cocked slightly to as side and he had his hands shoved into his pockets.

"oh, uh-" you stuttered, but you didn't even get a chance to finish your response. draken walked up to your trio with a smirk plastered on his stupid face. his incredibly stupid and idiotic face that definitely deserved to get punched especially because of what he said as soon as he stopped in front of you three.

"sup matsuno." he sent a quick salute your way.

"oh hey." chifuyu greeted him back, clueless.

"not you, i'm talkin' to your girl." the vice commander corrected. chifuyu stared at him for a moment as if not registering what he said at first.

"...but her last name isn't-" he began, then quickly shut his mouth. a reddish hue slowly crept onto his cheeks as he held draken's stare and realization sunk in slowly. the intent was hard to miss. especially as draken's smirk widened in mischief. he let out a laugh and pat chifuyu on the back before walking away to meet up with mikey.

"man, you two are too easy!"

this little "joke" of theirs had continued on for another week. honestly, it seemed as if there was no end to it. the only toman member who didn't participate in it was takemichi which were you very grateful towards him for that. he could laugh whenever he heard it, yes, but he stuck to calling you by your name. well, if it embarrasses you why would i say it? and when he said that it made you think. was it really something to be so embarrassed about?

you rest your cheek against the palm of your hand that was being supported by your elbow. chifuyu sat across from you staring menacingly at his study notes. you studied the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead and the length of his lashes as his eyes focused on the notebook in front of him. the memories of that day were painted so vibrantly in your mind while you could hardly remember just what you had done yesterday.

in a secluded spot behind the school with a white envelope in your trembling fingers, you could only focus on your shoes blow you. your face, red and burning, and chifuyu standing in front of you. you never gave yourself the opportunity to look him directly in his face as the anxiety had rose to overwhelming levels. how fast could you make it to the girls bathroom on the first floor? your lunch threatened to reveal itself. and his response after an agonizing silence caught you off guard the most.

yes, you remember it very well, very vividly. since that day you both had been inseparable. your love for him only continued to blossom. so should it really be embarrassing to be referred to by his last name? if fate would be so kind perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to imagine a forever with him.

"huh? you okay?" chifuyu's voice snapped you back to reality. your cheeks flushed with a gentle pink as you dropped your pencil on your notebook.

"y-yeah. just thinking." you murmur in response.

chifuyu smiles, "yeah, me too! hey, so what did you get for number three?"

it had become very natural to come with your boyfriend to his meetings even if you didn't go very often. it wasn't unusual by any means either. many other toman girlfriends also would show up and chat among each other. you were no different, but the hierarchy was clear even if it wasn't spoken. this meant your relationship with the vice-captain of the first division had some perks and drawbacks. boyfriends encouraged their girlfriends to mingle in an effort to build a reputation and possibly move through the ranks.

that's where you found yourself. not being surrounded really, but definitely being regarded quite frequently and this meeting was no different. toman members gathered in front of the musashi shrine and the girls flocked together to chat and catch up. you were deep in a conversation with emma when you heard someone call out to you.

"hey, takemitchy wants to get something to eat after the meeting. wanna come?" chifuyu strolled up, throwing his thumb back over his shoulder to point at takemichi who was engaged in conversation with draken.

"oh, sure." you lean slightly to the right to get a look at them before shooting a smile at your boyfriend.

"if it ain't the matsunos." hakkai calls out as he approaches the both of you.

"hakkai-!" chifuyu begins, but you cut him off with an unexpected response.

"oh, hey." you turn to face the taller boy fully.

hakkai appears dumbfounded for a second as this was clearly not the response he intended for. chifuyu was just as shocked. any irritation he felt had quickly melted away, but his cheeks remained pink.

chifuyu makes a face, "wha-?"

you turn your head slightly to meet his eyes, a wide smile spreading across your face, "what? you look confused!"

"yeah, well, you just- i mean- i thought you didn't like it when they called you that." he mumbled, his shoulders falling lax.

"mmm..." you put a finger to your chin in thought, "i guess i just don't see anything wrong with it anymore!"

chifuyu opens his mouth then shuts it. he's unable to conjure any words in response, but a grin breaks out on his face soon after. he chuckles, "oh, cool then."

you laugh at his response. hakkai stands there not sure what else to do but figure another roundabout way to tease you both. of course, you were far more focused on the elated expression your boyfriend wore after your interaction with him set in. yeah, it honestly wasn't so bad.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios #chifuyu matsuno x reader #matsuno chifuyu x reader #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno x you #chifuyu x you #chifuyu x fem!reader #chifuyu x y/n

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priyajoyyy · 3 months

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Meangirl!clarisse la rue - concept [part 1]

Part 2 [here]

Mean girl!heavily inspired by renne rapps Regina George!Clarisse la rue x fem!shy!kinda a doormat!Reader

Concept for a mean girls Regina George style Clarisse and nerdy doormat reader because I'm to scared to write my first imagine rn lol

May do an actual imagine for this if it’s wanted

Warnings:

reader is kinda Aphrodite coded because I’m bias to my own cabin, but nothing is actually mentioned because it’s a school au, this is also based off of American schools but I’m British so there’s a mention of prefects because I don’t know the American equivalent 😭, poor writing (this is my first tumblr concept please be nice to me), mean!clarisse, bullying, a lot of jealous!clarisse

Meangirl!Clarisse who runs the school with an iron fist and looks so good while doing it and newgirl!reader who has no idea what she's walking into when she transfers school.

Meangirl!Clarisse with silena as her bestie and Chris as her ex.

Meangirl!Clarisse who’s captain of the football team and newgirl!reader who successfully tries out for the cheerleading team so Meangirl!Clarisse gets to watch her jump around in a tiny skirt all practice.

Meangirl!clarisse, silena and Chris all having lockers next to each other (she threatened the prefect in charge of locker assignments and had them put the three together while her and Chris were dating) and opposite newgirl!readers locker.

Silena as cheer captain who watches Meangirl!Clarisse stare at newgirl!reader everyday and who tries to get her and newgirl!reader together behind her back.

Newgirl!reader who watches Meangirl!clarisse at her locker every morning because she has a crush on her, and is way too scared of her to ever instigate anything with her.

Meangirl!Clarisse who sees this and thinks newgirl!reader has a crush on Chris so flirts with him by his locker just to piss newgirl!reader off because she’s lowkey jealous (even if she doesn’t realise) and they’re both just like, wtf? And silena who is so disappointed.

Meangirl!clarrise who eventually makes out with Chris at a party (that silena practically forced newgirl!reader to go to, she only went because she scares her too) right in front of her, and newgirl!reader is still like, why tf do you keep doing this shit like I don’t wanna see that??

Meangirl!clarisse who watches luke flirt and ask newgirl!reader out and not realising she’s too scared to say no so goes on a date with him.

Luke who changes his mind the next day, sporting an unusual bruise under his eye, while Meangirl!Clarisse walks around with a not so unusual bruised knuckle and bruise on her cheek.

Newgirl!reader who can’t drive yet so waits for her mum to pick her up after cheer everyday,

And Meangirl!Clarisse who makes excuses to stay later so that she can watch Newgirl!reader shiver in the Carpark and make a flirty comment to her as she walks past on the way to her car, with no one around to see.

Newgirl!reader who just stares, blushes and occasionally says a small thank you in response to her comments.

Silena who needs a lift home one night and makes Meangirl!clarisse to give Newgirl!reader her jacket, forcing Newgirl!reader to interact with Meangirl!Clarisse the next morning to give it back.

Meangirl!Clarisse who was late to school the next day because silena delayed them, not being able to see Newgirl!reader till practice,

And Meangirl!Clarisse who would never say it out loud, but who was thanking silena the entire time as she smirked down at Newgirl!reader stumbling over her words explaining why she had to wait to give her the jacket because she couldn’t find her all day,

And Newgirl!reader who was shellshocked and blushing while her crush told her not to worry about it, and to keep the jacket again tonight because it’s cold again.

Lowkey love this but still scared to write an actual imagine lol

Part 2 is out [here]

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jongseongsnudes · 5 months

Note

THE NIKI DRABBLE WAS SO ADORBSSSS CAN I PLEASE MAKE A REQUEST!

- Haruto (!!the instigator!!) helps the couple back together after a dumb fight

0.8k words. slight angst, cringey & fluffyyyyyyy.

“nishimura is the most annoying-est person to ever live! why does everyone like him!”

“you like him.”

“not only that! but he has the audacity to yell at me for what? for trying to help him?”

“that’s your fault. you’re dating him.”

you stop complaining and glare over to haruto, who was too busy driving to notice your newly raised brows.

“watanabe you’re not helping.”

“well not my fault you’re both headaches,” he shrugs as he pulls into taki’s drive way, the loud music coming from the house already attacking your poor ears.

with taki’s parents out of town for the weekend, the boy had gathered the team over for a little get together. but boys being boys, of course they forget to prepare anything other than themselves.

so here you were, coming back from the supermarket with loads of snacks and drinks.

“i’ll see you inside miss class president,” he disappears before you could even respond, leaving you with all the grocery bags in his car boot.

although you had this problem to figure out, your mind was more distracted by something else instead. your boyfriend.

it was pretty normal for you and niki to bicker on the daily, usually over nothing and it’d end as quick as it began. but today’s bickering session unfortunately ended with him saying something hurtful and you saying something out of line.

a stupid fight yet you’re both giving each other the cold shoulder, just because you're both too stubborn to admit it.

“why are you pushing me watanabe?” your boyfriend’s sudden deep voice breaks you from your thoughts, the boy now standing at the front door with haruto behind him.

“you two are so annoying. make up or break up before you come back inside,” haruto says as he pushes niki out and shuts the door with a thud, trapping you both outside together.

you sigh and walk to haruto's boot, not paying too much attention to the team captain who is currently banging on the front door like the maniac that he was.

to your surprise, the tall boy appears beside you only a second later, hands reaching out for the grocery bags but you ignore it.

“let me take them in.”

“i don’t need your help.”

“they are heavy,” he reaches for them again, only for you to push him away slightly, “i’ll take them-”

“no i can do it myself!”

“you are so damn stubborn!” the boy yells as he slams the boot closed out of the blue, startling you. he doesn’t give you the time to respond and immediately lifts you up by the waist, placing you to sit on the boot. to prevent you from getting away, niki places both his hands on either sides of you, trapping you in completely.

although you’re supposed to be giving him the cold shoulder, you can’t help but swoon for a moment. swoon at how god damn breath taking he looked this close.

if you weren’t currently fighting, you probably would’ve kissed him already.

“nishimura move.”

“no, we need to talk. right now.”

“alright, what do you want to talk about?” you fold your arms, your expression much more sulky compared to his current angry one, “is it what haruto said... break up?”

“what- what the hell!” the boy seemed even angrier than before, his hands raised in the air like you had just said the most insane thing, “you fucking wish!”

his response catches you off guard, your mind unable to come up with anything to say other than gulp.

“baby,” he says in a much calmer tone, the boy now chuckling to himself, “funny of you to think you’ll ever successfully get away from me.”

“then? you’ve been ignoring me the whole day, even when i tried to talk to you earlier.”

“i’m sorry i was being stupid... i didn’t mean to yell at you either,” he reaches to softly cup your cheeks, making you look at him, “can you forgive your handsome, tall, smart, athletic boyfriend?”

the disgusted face you automatically make has the boy in complete stitches and you immediately follow suit, the two of you laughing loudly amongst yourselves like two crazy people.

it reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place and why you still liked him.

“i don’t know. depends on-”

he leans in, kissing you and shutting you up.

“as i was saying! depends on-”

and he kisses you again, shutting you up again.

“just say you want me to kiss you and i’ll do it. no need to play these dirty tricks with me, miss class president.”

“i was not-”

just as you expected, he kisses you again, only this time it melts your heart even more than the last. the view of niki smiling and so giddy into the kiss, always something your heart can barely survive through.

“you’re lucky i like kissing you miss class president.”

“well shut up and do it then nishimura-”

“oh god i think my lunch is coming up. oh no i’m gagging,” both you and niki turn to taki’s voice, just to see the entire team now standing on the front porch, all making gagging faces at the sight of their team captain and his girlfriend.

kissing.

“you’re all going to SUFFER at practice tomorrow!!!”

end.

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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tojisun · 2 months

Text

and if johnny’s interest in mommy kink gets instigated by kyle (without kyle knowing), what then

thinking about johnny accidentally snooping on kyle’s phone. he didn’t mean to, really. he just heard kyle’s phone ringing, saw the contact name being mommy, and hollered for his friend.

poor chap practically tore the phone from johnny’s hand before racing out of the room. price and ghost were just as astonished as johnny was, the three of them making awkward eye contact with each other because, truly, what the fuck.

kyle was all tight-lipped when he returned, glaring at johnny for butting into his business but johnny swore he didn’t—

“it’s y’r mum! what’d ya want me to do? let it go to voicemail?”

“it isn’t–” kyle’s lips curled like he tasted something sour. “just. mind your business next time.”

there was a heartbeat of silence, before soft chortles rumbled from their captain. johnny realized, at the sound of price’s laughter, what type of mommy, exactly, was calling kyle.

“oh, shit,” he murmured, something like desire filling him up. he ignored ghost’s stare or their captain’s petering laughter; he ignored the wafting question that descended on them all because kyle was looking at him with something like understanding.

like recognition.

“she would love you,” kyle said after a while, smiling. “do you want a mommy, ‘tavish?”

it was said so softly, so quietly, and yet it rang like a gunshot in johnny’s head. he didn’t even realize the ragged rasp of his breath or the way his body hunched over in his desire. all he knew, all he could focus on, was the invitation that kyle was giving him.

“please,” he muttered, too needy for anything louder.

—

you are the best thing to ever happen to him. the prettiest thing; all crooning and teasing, all dimpled smile and quiet giggles. johnny thought all he would have gotten was a quick fuck—get his dick wet, explore his new kink, maybe even shed a few tears; he really didn’t know what he was looking for.

but then, there you were. are.

so accepting. so lovely. so desirable in a way that had him begging for more, his words all slurred with his tears and desperation.

“please,” he said to you too then. he couldn’t voice out what it was he really wanted to say. but he didn’t need to, not with the way you cupped his cheeks and brushed away the tears and sweat staining his flushed cheeks.

“of course,” you said. “such a good boy, f’me.”

johnny dropped his face on the soft of your lap, trying to tamp down the tears. the hiccups.

he shivered at the rougher hands that also began to play with his hair.

“so good f’r us, johnny,” kyle added, so soft. so careful.

johnny shivered, desire bloating.

he really needed to give kyle a fruit basket or something.

—

“i really thought it’d be you into that,” price murmurs when it’s just him and simon, before taking a drag on his cig.

simon almost chokes on his whiskey. “what?” he croaks out.

price breathes out the smoke, fingers drumming on the table, only to shrug and keep to himself again.

simon gawks because what the hell.

#johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #tf 141 #cw mommy kink #suns #johnnys too pathetic coded to not be into mommy kink

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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

Text

Keith walks into his room after a deliciously vigorous training season, wiping his sweaty face with a towel, and immediately notices something is off.

He freezes, towel clamped to the back of his neck, and carefully scans his room from corner to corner. His lock was still intact when he walked in, so unlikely break-in. His bed is still exactly as messy as it was when he left it. His dresser drawer is still left cracked slightly open, as he always leaves it, because it’s harder to put a drawer back to the same level of open it was before than to close it (he’s caught Hunk snooping through his shit many a time with this method. Thanks, Pa’s paranoia).

His gaze lands finally on a nondescript black book on his nightstand, and his eyebrows shoot up. He finished his book this morning and returned it to the library on his way to the training room.

He did not leave that black book there.

Wary, a thousand anxieties running through his brain, Keith approaches his nightstand bayard-first, sword extended and sharp. He pauses before he comes in contact, taking time to analyse it, attempt to puzzle out any kind of traps or discrepancies before they jump out at him. He can’t see any — the book is on the newer side, with a roughened black hardcover, gold detailing on the spine but no title or author. The paper looks thick and it’s strangely uncut, raggedy.

Hesitantly, Keith pokes it.

Nothing happens.

Less suspicious, now, he prods at it with his hands, and when that does nothing, he picks it up. It’s heavier than he expected. He cracks open the cover to reveal a red paper lining. Stuck to the inside of the cover is a baby blue post-it note, crookedly place, with only a neatly drawn heart in glitter gel pen. Keith can’t help the smile, even as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What even…”

Pinching the first page from the bottom corner so as to not accidentally rip any paper, he slowly turns it over.

He gasps, fumbling with the book as he nearly drops it.

“How did it…”

He recognises the first page — it’s his. Or he made it, anyway. Scrawled in every white space of the nearly parchment-esque alien paper is his own doodling, from a boring meeting several weeks back. He recognises the slightly mean drawing of the Capnir leader and his snooty expression in the left corner, and the ninety games of tic-tac-toe he played with Lance on the bottom half of the page (Lance insisted he won because he is a nasty cheater. Keith didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at tic-tac-toe, but it is. It’s crazy).

Gobsmacked, Keith begins to flip through the rest of the pages, eyes getting wider and nose getting closer to the book with every corner he turns. These are his doodles and drawings — hundreds of them, loose papers from meetings and scrawled diagrams from mission plans and notes to other paladins and dorky little drawings he made for his friends or because of his own boredom. There are grocery lists covered in drawings of engine parts and knives and strange alien vegetables, hand-to-hand manoeuvre diagrams, several drawings of Shiro as Captain America, of Pidge and Hunk covered in soot except for the line around their eyes from their goggles, of Allura with the mice in her hair, Coran in the wackiest outfit he’s ever seen, Shiro with his eye twitching from Slav, Matt making goo eyes at Allura. Some of Kolivan, even, with over-exaggerated eyebrows and a frown that touches his neck.

And dozens, maybe even hundreds, of drawings of Lance. Smirking at Keith from across the kitchen table before he instigates a Pidge-Hunk argument, crowing in victory after making a shot, serious and focused mid battle, face drooping and sad and fixed on a glowing blue Earth projection with his chin hooked over his knees. Drawings that itched at Keith’s fingers every hour of every day, that he barely tried to resist; snapshots of Lance that plagued his mind ‘til he finally found time to grab a pencil.

Drawings that he had, apparently, left scattered all over the castle without thinking.

He cradles his flaming face in his free hand, heart pounding in his ears. He’s sure — he knows he threw half of these out. Some of them he left lying around, sure, and others he left out deliberately for his friends to find, but — Keith knows he threw out the full-page and coloured portrait of Lance, bright and beautiful in a dozen shades of earth, smiling softly at Keith in the low-light of the common room well after midnight. He can see the creases and smudges from where he’d crumpled it, embarrassed, and where someone had fished it out of the trash and carefully straightened it back out, brushing dust out of the crevices.

“Oh my God.”

Hunk would never have been able to keep the secret with how long it would have taken to bind this book — by hand, by the looks of it. Allura couldn’t either. Both Pidge and Shiro would have been gleeful in mocking Keith about the clear affection in every pencil stroke. Coran would have probably stuck it proudly on the fridge — he did that, once, Keith remembers, with a sketch he’d done of the whole team during a movie night. It’s still there; it’s been so long that Keith doesn’t notice it anymore.

There’s only one person who would pick up the discarded slips of paper and slide them in his pocket — only one person who’s that kind of sentimental. One person who prints every photograph he takes of every planet they’ve ever been on, who pins up every drawing gifted to him by young children no matter how objectively horrible, who tears off notes written in the margins of battle plans and keeps them in a jar on his dresser. Only one person who has a scrapbook with a dried blade of grass from Arus and piece of sea glass from the mermaid planet and a napkin stained with food goo from their food fight all those years ago. Hell, there’s only one person on this castle with enough skill with a needle and thread to bind a whole ass book.

Keith drops his bayard to the floor with a clatter, book clenched in his fist, and sprints out of his room. He flies down the hallway, ignoring the startled shout from Pidge as she jumps out of his way and the wide-eyed stare from Allura. He almost runs straight into his brother, spinning to the right at the last minute and rushing past him without bothering to entertain his questions. He runs all the way to the MedBay, where he knows Lance is taking inventory for Coran, and nearly crashes right into the pods because he’s too pumped up to slow down properly.

“Whoa there, cowboy, cool it before you give yourself a concussion. Christ.”

Lance places a cool hand on his shoulder, concerned, bin of counted bandages left abandoned behind him. Almost immediately his face coils in disgust.

“Aw, gross, you’re sweaty.”

But he doesn’t move his hand.

Keith stares.

How did he — how did he miss it, before?

“Keith?” Lance asks again, alarm clouding his face. “You okay, buddy?”

His fingers curve absentmindedly along the junction of Keith’s neck, and he leans in closer, and he smells so fucking good and he always does and Keith is lightheaded from more than just his cross-castle sprint.

“You’re in love with me,” he blurts, and he didn’t mean to say it like that but there’s no doubt in his words.

Lance startles, yanking his hand back in shock. Keith darts out to stop it, fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going far. Lance’s breath hitches.

“…What?”

“You’re in love with me,” Keith repeats, steadier this time. He waits a moment, then says, much more urgently: “The book.”

Mortification rings off Lance in waves.

“Oh,” he croaks. His pulse is so loud and so fast that Keith can feel it in his wrist. “I didn’t think it was — oh.”

There’s a strange quality to his voice, besides the embarrassment of getting caught, and then it clicks — he’s afraid. Of rejection, of disgust, of Keith. Keith isn’t sure. But he hates that it’s there.

Faster than he can talk himself out of, he cups Lance’s face with his free hand, relishing in the sharp intake of breath, and leans in and kisses him. There’s a moment of rigid shock on Lance’s part and it could spell trouble but Keith holds steady. He keeps his hold loose and the pressure soft and soon Lance — melts, into him, there’s no other word for it; he sinks in close and sighs and the hand Keith has gripped goes slack. His lips are soft, and his hair tickles Keith’s forehead, and Keith can still feel his jackrabbit heartbeat, and he still smells like that intoxicating mix of flowers and — sunshine, somehow, straight from the brightest days in Earth. Keith’s hands have never been steadier.

“You collected my doodles,” he says, staying close when Lance pulls gently away. He can see the deeper browns in Lance’s irises, the places where the gold gives way to near-black. They look like the flecks of the precious metal Keith would see at the bottom of the river mud in the mountains of Arizona.

“They were worth keeping,” Lance says quietly. He holds Keith’s gaze. The tips of his fingers trace Keith’s temples; they’re rough with old guitar callouses.

“You think everything is worth keeping.”

“Only the things that — bleed.”

Keith thinks that they’re both right. Lance can’t leave anything behind because he aches for the soul he finds in it. He finds the worth in everything. He found the worth in Keith.

He found enough to make Keith stay.

Keith grips the book in his right hand, left still cupped around Lance’s cheek. The difference in textures is startling, grounding.

“No one has ever done something like that for me before,” Keith admits. There’s a lump in his throat but Keith thinks it’s manageable, thinks he can talk through it. Thinks he might hold the strength for it.

Lance waits patiently.

“I want to —” Keith stops. He opens the book. The drawn Lance smiles up at him, beautiful. He looks up and Lance smiles over at him, breathtaking. “I —”

He doesn’t know how to say it. It’s there, bubbling in his chest, spilling out of him; obvious. But he doesn’t know the words for it. He’s not sure anyone’s taught him before.

“Okay,” Lance says. He tugs his wrist out of Keith’s grip then laces their hands together, squeezing. His smile only widens and he — sparkles, almost. Keith’s throat goes dry.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance repeats, teasing. He leans in again. “I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

“Please,” Keith begs, and he does.

———

based on this post

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my-love-is-sunlight · 3 months

Text

Full bloom

Zoro x reader

Warnings: fem reader, swearing, reader is mad at Zoro, SFW

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: In which you overhear Zoro talking badly about you.

Notes: This is also my bird!reader but decided to take another rote with this one idk this is literally just my one piece self insert just wanted to write about them

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

PT2 ➜

You were not the kind to fall slow, you’ll fall completely flat, rough and knowing it’ll probably hurt badly, not even stretching your hands to stop the fall, pouring your whole heart and soul

You’ll fall hard

The moment you saw Zoro Roronoa you knew you were doomed, falling for someone like him was gonna be a huge problem not only because he so happened to be part of the pirate crew you were asked to join, but because you quickly picked up he wasn’t a feelings kind of guy, he was stoic and closed up like a big old book with a even bigger lock

But one day the feelings for the swordsman that had bloomed in your heart were quick to wither and rot, after overhearing a conversation between him a some other members of the crew

“I don’t know why you invited her Luffy” Zoro scoffed “An archer is useless we already have Usopp he’s a good shooter, and her powers are ridiculous”

Your heart sinked at every word that left Zoro’s mouth, after feeling rejected your whole life and thinking you had finally found a place where you belonged, you’re proven wrong once again

“Don’t say that Zoro!” Luffy defended which made you smile a little “She’s not only that! Y/n is this very powerful warrior and turning into a bird is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” He sounded excited, at least your captain liked you

Zoro’s silence was like a dagger going through your poor heart, holding your breath in hopes he’ll answer and say that he was wrong, but instead your ears catch Sanji’s mischievous laugh

“Don’t tell me you feel threatened by such a gorgeous lady mosshead”

You were thorn between running away or pull yourself closer to the door to listen, but Zoro made that decision for you after hearing a muffled thud followed by his loud screaming

“Shut up! I’m going to be the world’s greatest swordsman I am never intimidated specifically by some stupid bird you dumb cook!” You stood outside the door, hurt and angry, you thought Zoro would be different from the men in your island, always overlooking you and judging your abilities for reasons you couldn’t control

After this incident you decided to avoid the green haired pirate completely, if he already was hard to talk to, whenever you were tasked to do something together you kept your mouth shut, always training opposite sides of the Merry and answering him coldly. Everyone picked up on your change in behavior, the contrast between how you treated literally everyone else, even strangers, compared to Zoro was palpable, your whole aura shifted at the sight of him

But as upset as you were, you two made perfect fighting partners. Those were the only times when you’ll put your pride aside, after all you were a professional and valued the place Luffy had offered you in the crew, and as much as you hated to admit it, Zoro was an exceptional swordsman.

After some time, the stoic man had warmed up to your presence, he now respected you since he saw you were not only capable but complemented him in battle like no one else in the crew. Everything he knew about you was only things he’ll pick up when you would chat with others or little antics and traits he’ll put attention to, but it was enough to trust you and have a real read into your character

“Why do you always avoid me?” Zoro asked one time while you both walked back to the Going Merry, he had gotten lost again, and you were the assigned Zoro’s compass since you were able to fly around and find him easily, which you didn’t quite enjoy especially now that he decided to instigate whatever had happened between you two

You scoffed “Where did you get that idea from?”

“Everyone notices how mean you are to me and I am not blind” mean, that word lingered like poison in your ears, you were the kind of person to always try be the best version of yourself, being patient and understanding, so hearing Zoro calling you mean felt unfair

“I have my reasons” the green haired pirate noticed your body language change completely, you stiffened and your breath quickened, fist clenching. This wasn’t exactly the direction he wanted this conversation to go but he wasn’t quite good at talking

“How dramatic” he whispered but loud enough so you’ll hear him, already giving up in a peaceful chat

You stopped in your tracks anger boiling up and reaching your tongue immediately “Oh fuck off” Zoro’s eyes widened, he had never heard you swear let alone seen you this angry before

“You can go ahead and call me whatever you want, but you don’t know me Zoro” there you stood in front of this man that doubled you in size, eyes that froze him in place, your face was red with fury and the tension could be seen from a mile away. The swordsman backed up slowly, was he feeling threatened?

“But if you did, you’ll know I know better than to talk shit behind my crewmates back” in a swift move you morphed into your bird form, not wanting to continue the conversation and soared the skies, high enough so he could still follow you back

No one had ever stood up to Zoro that way before, he silently walked under you a million thoughts going through his head at once, what did you meant about talking shit about another crewmate? I mean of course he would talk shit but nothing ever serious, but again, how could you know if he barely even said hi to you?, a little guilt settled on him, maybe he was the mean one after all

Curiosity tickled him as his mouth opened and without thinking twice he screamed your name in hopes you’ll fly back down, after a little thinking you did, perching on a nearby tree before chirping at him

“Can you like… not… be a bird?” You made what it seemed to be an angry sound before morphing back to your original form while soaring down, landing in front of him arms crossed brows furrowed

“I don’t talk to assholes” you had always been the bigger person your whole life, so acting petty maybe wasn’t your style but really you didn’t cared enough what Zoro would think of you, after all you still seemed to think he viewed you as useless

“You still haven’t answered my question” his tone shifted, you had started to annoy him, he hated people that aren’t straightforward “I don’t know you you’re right, but maybe if you allowed me to we wouldn’t be here in the first place”

“I know you didn’t wanted me in the strawhats” you blurted out, knowing he wouldn’t drop the matter before arriving back to the ship and wanted to avoid everyone hearing you “You think I’m ridiculous and useless” that came out way shakier than you wanted to, finally showing how hurt you actually felt “My whole life I’ve been underestimated, I’m a woman and my powers are always taken as a joke, my abilities never recognized just because of how I look and who I am, when I joined you guys I thought I could leave that behind…”

The swordsman felt a knot forming on his throat, feeling absolutely unequipped for this situation and mostly, guilty, guilty he had ever made you feel something remotely close to this. It was true, when you first joined he didn’t quite agreed on Luffys decision but after all he was the captain, but you had proven him wrong showing your hard work and talents. For a moment you reminded him of someone he had cared for long ago, which made this whole fiasco even worse, feeling terrible he couldn’t even mutter a response, only standing before you absolutely bare.

“I am not asking you to be my best friend in the world, just for respect and some trust, at least the same one you give everyone else” ouch, your words as soft as they left your lips felt sharp, cutting onto Zoro’s ears.

You search his features for a reaction, an expression, anything, but he was unreadable still a stranger to you. Regret simmered in your gut, maybe should’ve kept your thoughts to yourself

Before you could walk away any further from him, Zoro gripped your wrist forcing you to stay and look back at him

“I actually think you’re pretty skilled for a bird” he offered you a small lopsided smile to try and freshen the mood which you were thankful for “You’re a fearless fighter, and more capable than others in the crew, If I ever made you think any different I apologize”

A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your lips, grateful he wasn’t actually an ass like you had painted him to be

“You gotta watch your mouth Roronoa” you smirked back “Could’ve lost your perfect fighting partner” you pulled yourself out of his grip and walked towards the Merry

Zoros laugh ringed in your ears, something you never thought you’ll hear, at least between only you two “This means you’ll stop training by yourself and finally join me? Or are you too scared?”

A heavy weight lifted from swordsman’s shoulders, finally able to bond with you and solving the never ending mystery the haunted him because contrary to your beliefs, he always noticed the distance you drew between you and him, it ate him alive. But now, you could finally see yourselves in your true colors, enjoy your time together and grow closer

“Yeah like you scare me” you pushed him playfully a smile tugging on your lips “If you wanted to train with me so bad should’ve just asked”

Zoro rolled his eyes “Don’t get too cocky birdie, I could destroy you in a sparring session anytime”

Slowly but surely, the swordsman had once again found his way into your heart, the garden that once withered grew strong once again, and little did you knew that you had also made love bloom in his, but that was a problem to deal with another time

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Gonna most likely make this a series ☝🏻 like always request are open and feel free to correct me English is not my first language

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joaofelix70 · 6 months

Text

MISS DIPLOMAT & MR. CHARMING |

dominik szoboszlai x female reader.

author's note: this handsome man's living rent-free in my head. he's a freaking masterpiece. talented, funny, charismatic, attractive. i watched interviews, tiktok videos made by supporters and much more to understand a little bit of his language, personality and what he does towards friends and loved ones. laughed a lot! i made my homework as a writer, hope you enjoy it! (compliments and any kind of retributions are more than welcomed).

summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.

words and characters: 1,811/11,223. it was three days working too hard on this story. i'm begging for your consideration, lol.

────

sports diplomacy: it's the unique power of sport to bring people, nations, and communities closer together via a shared love of physical pursuits. this responsibility is the reason of a transition between strangers to connected individuals, advancing foreign policy goals and augmenting sport for development initiatives. the complex landscape where sport, politics, and diplomacy overlap become clearer, as do the pitfalls of using sport as a tool for overcoming and mediating separation between people, nonstate actors, and states. the power of sport has never been more important. so far, the 21st century has been dominated by disintegration, introspection, and the retreat of the nation-state from the globalization agenda. in such an environment, scholars, students, and practitioners of international relations are beginning to rethink how sport might be used to tackle climate change, gender inequality, and the united nations sustainable development goals, for example. to boost these integrative, positive efforts is to focus on the means as well as the ends, that is, the diplomacy, plural networks, and processes involved in the role sport can play in tackling the monumental traditional and human security challenges of our time. credits: international studies association and oxford university press.

────

MLSZ (hungarian football federation) ──

new training ground at telki.

"i can't believe that being in places like this made up my most theoretically utopian childhood dreams. what a progress in front of me!" you still witness exciting moments where you pinch yourself, trying to believe in the reality that surrounds you: visiting the new training center of the players who are just a few meters away from you, getting ready to represent an entire country.

"your presence is our privilege. a voice of the spread of eurocup to our nation, right here…" the technical director gives you deference, obtaining a measure of humbleness and respect by you.

"the honor belongs to me in its entirety. grateful for having me, sir. while the view is immersive and captivating — my fervent congratulations to everyone involved — could we retreat from the pleasant glass-enclosed room and see everything closer, on the outside? please? i will never get used to this atmosphere." you pour politeness and charisma to the staffs around you, being directed to the proximity of the field and saluting the employees who pass through your path.

meet dominik — your szobo — instigates the nostalgic combination of detailed moments in which your thoughts display as photographic retrospectives. you're incapable to oppose the little enthusiastic laughs, fidgeting the rings between your fingers and avoiding possible suspicious glances from others. however, for you, this wouldn't actually work. the lives of you both are correlated, but different.

the training session is finished. clapping your hands and celebrating the performances, you greet the athletes and recognize some familiar people. nevertheless, reality slows down after those dark woody eyes capture through your soul. his arms tattoos are glorified by the sun's rays, the same illuminated smile is offered to you: that one you got during the very first time you saw him — instantly knowing he made you testimony the accuracy of freedom, catharsis and emotional amorous complement. that he'd be the one to introduce you what you never experienced, what you thought you'd never receive or deserve. what love truly is. when you were novices in your actual professions, not even imagining the future gifts of your unreal purposes.

"there you are!" intimately, dominik points at you, being reciprocated by vibrant nods and your old sort of secret — not that mysterious or serious — handshake. "még mindig emlékszel rá? (still remembering it?). you're a real one!"

"hogy tudnám elfelejteni? alábecsülsz engem. (how could i forget it? you're underestimating me)". your defensive actions demonstrate purposeful falseness. masking any sensitive, verbal or figurative communicative fragment from him is a difficulty that makes you give in over time. honestly, you never complain about this. it's like he wants to understand the factors and layers of you.

"a te kézfogás fickó. ne merészelj lecserélni engem. (your handshake man… don't you dare to replace me)". a shameless wink is send to you, butterflies acquiring space in your stomach.

"és hivatalosan is a szavamat adom rá. (and you officially have my word on it)." your gloss is pigmented against your fingers while you raise it up, displaying an oath, wondering if szoboszlai comprehends that his replacement in your life would be blasphemous.

"diplomata kisasszony, (miss diplomat)…" the hungarian fingerprints are shared and you recognize the sign to hold them, ready to perform your typical fashion icon moment. "gorgeous as always. go ahead! you know what to do!".

amusement surrounds you with the nickname's citation. although, you could feel some curious glances, from the outsiders, about the intimacy between you and him. "i appreciate, our top-class national bless…" you move your body in rotations to exclaim the outfit's characteristics, lifting your feet to show off the specificities of your heels. "how is your hair so well-groomed after sweating, though?" your arms cross and you raise an eyebrow in questioning, trying to hide your fascination.

"thank you, my number-one fan, but don't change the subject. finish our inside joke, c'mon!" dominik grabs his water bottle and spreads the cooling liquid on his forehead, wiping the glowing droplets across his face as he lifted his jersey high enough to exhibits his fortified abs.

your attention is directed to any surrounding scenery, throat being piked. szoboszlai pretends he doesn't notice, preventing to embarrass you.

"alright, alright! you've won, bájos úr… (mr. charming)". your final comment escapes as, practically, a whisper. you can't control the shy laughter, coupled with the considerable redness invading your cheeks.

"that's the secret to make my day!" using his tongue to reproduce a sharp noise, he matches your humorous reactions. "would you like me to show you the infrastructure changes? i'm just gonna take a shower!"

"i've already been granted a tour around here, but in case you insist…" during the dialogue, some athletes cross your space, wishing them good luck for the competition. your concentration on the activity is significant, at the point that dominik's silent admiration goes unnoticed.

"i mean, you know me! i'm gonna insist anyway, so…" he reaches your captivity, bringing you jollification.

"i'll rate you as a personal tour guide. now, go there!" jesting each other, you both exchange exaggerated reverences, like a challenge of who makes the most chaotic one.

────

walking around the area, various subjects are explored, informations entrusted. you ask and are updated about his ethereal younger sister.

portraits of the generations are framed. you magnifies his presence in celebratory pictures, dedicated to find him in the memories and achievements on that wall. pride shines from you and the hungarian finds it lovely.

"you know i'm a sucker for accents… they're much more than mere verbal characteristics, they're stories: life experiences, marks and scars. identities and cultural integrations." the topic is random. through generalized opinions, you're explaining conceptions and dominik is retaining mental observations. he exalts every scrap of your identity, like a faithful worshiper.

"basically, you're admitting being enchanted by my accent. i can see the stars in your eyes. a win is a win!" szoboszlai and his frequent attribute to physical touch, tickling your ears and playing with them. it doesn't bother you, actually: adoring the affection exuded by you and him. you feel like a little girl dealing with your one and only love.

"it's beautiful, how can you blame me? and hey, i know mine's making you grin too." he holds your arm, shivers running down your spine, the two of you being euphoric in the midst of your own enthusiasm.

"putting me against the wall? okay, hum… what were you saying before?" he's changing the subject and you have a natural wit to boo him. lifting his shoulders as a surrender, the hungarian focuses on the specific loose strands of his simple bracelet, which you get used to help him tie it again, willingly.

"trying to avoid the truth? fine! let me take care of you while i talk about my admiration towards globalization and communication. like, with every fiber of me…" you accept the conversation's direction and utter a 'voilà' towards the accessory's new appearance.

"that's why you're the best person i've ever seen doing this job." dominik compliments you, an act full of honesty.

"thanks a lot, mate. but which job? as your bracelet helper or my real one?" you provide tenderness, looking amused.

"i mean… both of them." szoboszlai chuckles, revealing courtesy by your continuous helpfulness.

"literally? because i know you know a lot of people. you're so young and already is the national team's captain." you nudge him in a form of tease. he's a starboy, it's undeniable.

"flattered! literally, thought. you were born for this, believe me." vulnerability collides to you, as his words are deliberated: emotions embracing you and warming your insides.

"dominik szoboszlai, my dear friend, you're gonna make me cry, right here. i'm sorry, i need to do it…"

innocent satisfaction builds strength over you and executes unthought-of approach to the tangibility of your gratitude — his colony enrapturing your sensitive olfaction — in the most out-of-control way. the sounds reach your hearing: a choir of angels singing hallelujah. he reciprocates the contact, laughing at your juvenile excitement. joining him and doing the same thing, harmonizing the triumph. in the separation of the touch, you both remain close to each other and the hungarian doesn't miss the opportunity to feel the softness of your side face, caressing the skin. appreciation and satisfaction invade your structure, delighting on the palm of his hand.

"just a dear friend? why are we pretending all this time?" dominik's reading you. the intimidation at the sight of him overhanging you is paralyzing. you don't usually back down, but in that instant — superior than your most repressed desires — your gasps are escaped.

"who is putting who against the wall now?" insisting and failing on your witty answers, shyness and uncertainty corrodes you.

"please, look at me! i'm not kidding anymore." his voice is questioning, intrigued — contradictorily vulnerable and calm — your rationality being fragmented, fragile.

"you know i'm not the kind of woman you're surrounding by, domi. i'm not an influencer, bikini model. i'm not a public figure. i don't live for the cameras and gossip platforms. i live to work hard. i didn't achieve any of this with some type of perk. my routine and your routine are based on traveling..." who could deny it? szoboszlai's always been all that you see. it's much more than a mere passion. your attraction to him is magnetic, intense, vivid. consequently, terrifying.

"i'm just asking for a chance, (your nickname). i don't lie when i say i've never met someone like you. i may be surrounded by a crowd and you'll still be the one to steal my attention, because nobody compares to you."

your eyelids are closed and the exhalation of his sigh penetrates your lungs with the numbing breath of life you've never experienced before. it's happening: the rare situation where thinking carefully about the pros and cons is unworthy, dumbness. your decision is made and the privilege's resolution unify your lips. the beginning demonstrates slowness and patience — the intensification through the concluded wait of the longed-for reality, transforming light and magical kisses into open mouths discovering each other and witnessing the endearment that both offer — hairs, necks, shoulders and waists captured.

"you're the first to create a meaningful presence in my mind and heart. i want you to be the last one too. i love you, kincs (my treasure). i'm finally brave enough to demonstrate it with no fears." dominik's forearm covers your upper torso. your back against his chest, noses resting on each others. rejoicing at the miraculous, incomparable circumstance.

"i love you, drágám (my precious). you're finally mine and it was so fucking worth waiting." his whisper: the living proof of celestial existence.

"how blessed we are…" intertwined bodies, coalesced essences. solitary melodies turning into the sweetest and most complete symphony.

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