#like i really want to see that man ONCE IN MY LIFE IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASKKKKKKKK
Text
── 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑… 𝐍𝐎. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were once a feared name on the sea--once, but not anymore. your downhill life takes a turn when you decide to rob a pirate ship, and it happens to belong to one of your big brothers.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy's sister!reader x strawhats
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smoking, mysterious backstory ooooo ahhhh, fluff and minimal angst, not enireeeely satisfied with this but its left off kinda open-ended so ill likely return to this scenario later
Now, the Strawhat Pirates were used to not knowing much about their captain’s past. He has a brother with flame powers? Sure thing. A Marine Vice Admiral for a grandfather? Okay, that’s fine. Monkey D. Dragon is his father? Whatever, they’ve heard crazier.
But really, at this point, they might want to just sit him down and get all of it out in the open.
Usopp wandered through a busy marketplace, Luffy’s shirtsleeve in his tight vice. Sanji tailed them as an extra precaution, one eye on his supply list and the other on the ready-to-bolt captain.
Luffy huffed indignantly, tugging at Usopp’s grip. “I wanna explore.”
“And we want to get out of here in a timely manner,” Usopp quipped back.
And they just might have done just that, if not for the hooded figure running right through Luffy and Usopp, parting their hands. A street vendor shouted curses after them, shaking a fist. “S-Stop! Hey!”
It was no use; the thief was too far away, and the man was too old to have the energy to chase them. He slumped his shoulders and pinched his brow, raising his gaze to find the stares of Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp zeroed in on him. “What? You plan on robbin’ the old man too?”
Sanji removed his cigarette from between his teeth with a shake of his head. “Sorry. What’d they steal? Maybe we can get it back for you?”
The old man shook a dismissive hand, frown deeply set on his face. “Agh. Don’t bother. You kids don’t get yerself wrapped up with her.” That was all it took for their prying curiosity to close in on him, and suddenly the man was surrounded on all sides. “Hey, now…”
“Who?” Luffy demanded first, head cocked to the side.
Lips agape, he shook his head and jabbed a thumb at the wanted poster pinned up to the wall beside his fruit stand. “That’s her, if you’re so curious. Been robbin’ us blind all month! The marines tried to catch ‘er, but no one can touch the bitch.”
Usopp rushed over and swiped the poster down, skimming it over with a hum. “Doesn’t look too tough. I bet we can take ‘er.”
The man rolled his eyes. “That’s what we all said.”
Sanji peeked over the sharpshooter’s shoulder as he let out a puff of smoke. He blinked, cheeks growing warm the longer he gazed at the woman pictured. “She’s… beautiful.”
Usopp squinted at the slightly faded writing scrawled under the picture. “Wanted dead or…” He snorted. “Nope, that’s it. Just dead for 40,000,000 berri.”
“Lemme see!” Luffy sidled up to Usopp and stared right at the poster’s center, recognition settling in instantly. You looked older, but that wasn’t the biggest change—joy had returned to your smile, your beaming expression showcasing a side of you he hadn’t seen since before Sabo died.
An unbridled laugh left him as he took the poster roughly, shoving Usopp aside. “Hey! That’s my little sister!”
“Oh,” Usopp hummed, taking a moment to process before his brows vaulted and he shot Sanji a look. “WHAT?!”
જ ⁀ ➴
You slinked through the streets toward the docks, hood hung low over your face, cheshire grin shrouded by shadow. You rolled a slice of mango around your tongue, sighing now that your hunger was satisfied.
You wanted to pay the guy—honest! But being an enemy of the state didn’t exactly pay well, and a mercenary’s gotta eat.
Waiting for a donkey cart to roll past, you bolted over to the wooden boardwalk just in front of the port. Nobody paid you any mind, assuming you to be one of the street urchins that made up the local gangs. You only meant to play a small joke on the young sailor you’d grown acquainted with, make his life just a bit more difficult, when your path was halted by the sight of a new ship docked at port.
It was a pretty caravel, a little rough around the edges from weather and climate, with a masthead of a goat peering out at the city. A pirate ship, for certain. A grin itched its way up your face. A pirate ship meant treasure, and there wasn’t much in this life you liked more than treasure.
Well, there was one thing, but unfortunately, your brothers were scattered across the sea—two alive, one not so much. The thought had you stumbling over your own feet, righting yourself swiftly before you headed for the caravel. You mumbled pathetically to yourself, like you had been since you left your home village some years ago. The life of a mercenary is a lonely one.
“Wonder what they’ve got, huh, Sabo.” Gazing up at the clouds, you grinned. The wind whistled through your hair, and your coping mechanism fell through. It’d been doing that a lot lately. Sighing out your troubles, you shook out your shoulders and crept up the gangway.
A girl stood watch, facing the sea on the other side of the ship. At the helm, a swordsman lay sleeping. Other than that, it was empty. Just a skinny-limbed girl and a lazy warrior. Perfect.
You slipped on board without a sound, living up to your title as The Silent Death. Well, nobody had called you that in a few years, not since you were twelve and stormed Marine Headquarters looking for your grandfather. You hadn’t found the Vice Admiral, but you had given them a reason for renovation. You possessed the Terra-Terra Fruit, and the earth rumbled at your command. At least you still held the name Earthshaker.
Your first wanted poster had been a shot of you sailing away, laughing in the face of the destruction. A force of nature, they called you. Hired by pirates, warlords, and royalty to do their less than noble deeds. But that was a long time ago. Now, you were nothing more than a petty thief, loneliness and grief taking its toll after so long repressing it.
But never the matter! After this last loot, you’d have the money to buy back your ship, get off that godforsaken island, and finally restore yourself to your former glory. Then Ace would never call you on your little snail transponder and laugh at your series of failures.
“Hey.” You glanced up from where you were crouching behind a barrel, locking eyes with the girl as she blinked surprisedly. Her hand itched toward a weapon at her side.
“Shit.” You cursed yourself and your inner-monologuing tendencies. “Bye!”
You darted up and made for the edge of the ship when a sword whizzed past your faze, narrowly missing your chin. The swordsman rose, alert as ever, two more swords ready at his side. You scoffed, huffing, “Why do you need three?”
Three… Two… One.
Eyes widened, you realized you knew that lazy swordsman (whose swords probably overcompensated for something) just as he started to recognize you as well. He jumped down to the deck, approaching warily as the girl came to stand beside him.
Roronoa Zoro muttered your name like a curse. “What’re you doing here, huh?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you murmured back, genuinely curious. “What’re you doin’ on a pirate ship, pirate hunter?”
“Change in career path,” he snapped. “We don’t appreciate stowaways. Especially not a backwater odd-job dog clinging to her glory days.”
You tsked. “Now, now. I was just having a look around. No harm done.” You swept a bow, flicking your wrist as you searched out the sea floor far down below. “I’ll be going now.”
With your head bowed, they didn’t catch your growing smirk until it was too late; the oceanic crust spread across the floor, magma exposed to the salty sea at an unnatural speed. The water rocked the ship and all those around, the nearby sailors murmuring worriedly.
“Hey, I may be a loser,” you admitted, picking at a cuticle as their glares shifted to concern. “But I’m still the Earthshaker, Roronoa. Now, how about some financial compensation for my bruised pride, before I capsize this sorry excuse for a boat.”
The girl scoffed in reply, brows vaulted. “Yeah, no thanks. We’re very attached to our beri.”
“You are,” Roronoa yelped. “Give her something before we lose the ship!”
Lips pursed, the girl looked ready to either attack you or give up, so you worsened the sea’s uproar just to give her a scare. A relent was on the tip of her tongue when her gaze darted over your shoulder, relief flooding her features. “Luffy!”
The sea floor closed up in an instant, the color leaving your face. “Luffy?”
A body flung into your back, tackling you to the deck. You bit back curses, wriggling free, when that laugh hit the back of your neck. A million repressed memories surfaced like the magma you controlled, and you were suddenly twelve years old, leaving your last brother in the dead of night to set off on an adventure you thought would fix everything.
Falling still, you slowly shifted to roll on your back, staring up at the beaming face of Monkey D. Luffy. You pushed up on your elbows, blind to the careful stares of those around, and gulped down some air. “Luffy?”
He chuckled gently, murmuring your name in turn, and you lurched forward to wring your arms around his neck. A tiny piece of your heart was put back in place (only a third of it, and you figured it would only be whole when you died and rejoined the brother lost).
Leaving home so young was a shitty miscalculation on your part. You’d fled Dawn Island some time after Ace, and some time before Luffy. Your not-so-big-more-like-twin brother always said you’d set out together, that one day he would be Pirate King and you would all be happy. But you left without ever saying goodbye, joined up with a crew of mercenaries, ate a devil fruit, and searched out Grandpa Garp for some answers about where you came from. And years passed and you could never admit your mistake—not until you spotted Luffy’s smiling face in the wanted poster he always thought you would share.
You leaned back and caught his eye, scurrying to sit on your knees. You wiped at your eyes as embarrassing tears started to well up. “I… I dunno…”
He knocked his head against yours, eliciting a sharp ow! from you. Luffy grinned cheekily as you nursed your temples. “You owe me an apology. So you can start there.”
And the fire sprang up in your throat all over again. Pathetic, you choked it all down with a nod. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. With S-Sabo gone and Ace gone… I thought for sure you’d be gone too soon enough… so I left you before you could leave me.”
You looked away sheepishly, rubbing at your arms. Luffy just flicked the side of your head and offer you the same bright expression he always did; it was the expression that gave you hope your life wasn’t totally screwed over, not yet anyways. “It’s okay—S’ long as you know it was stupid.”
You rolled your eyes and stood as he did the same. His hand never strayed far from your shoulder, holding you there like you might bolt away. Luffy gave a laugh and turned to face his friends, and only then did you remember you weren’t alone. You pivoted to face them all, locking eyes with a less-than-pleased Zoro.
“What’d going on, Luffy?” Zoro grunted, and if possible Luffy’s smile grew.
He took both your shoulders and shook you a little. “This is my little sister!”
You scoffed. “Little my ass! We’re the same age!”
Luffy held up his palm to his own height, then dipped it down to around your collarbone. “But you were always little-er, and Ace got to call you little!”
“Because he’s older than me!”
“Wait,” Zoro butted in just as you prepped to launch yourself at Luffy. “Sister? You never mentioned a sister.”
Luffy nocked his head to the side, lips pursed. “I didn’t?”
“No.”
“Huh.” He laughed it off. “But this is great! We saw Ace a while back in Alabasta, y’know.”
Nodding, you twined your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. “Yeah, I caught ‘im a few months ago.”
The reunion met a halt when Luffy asked, “What’re you doing here, anyway?”
Nami jutted out a hip and settled you with a look. “She threatened to take down the Merry if we didn’t hand over our beri.”
Luffy’s brows vaulted, lips a thin line as he turned to you. You chuckled awkwardly. “That is something I did, yes.”
But that wasn’t what occupied him. “How did you nearly sink the ship?”
“Oh.” You swirled your palms, gathering the granules of rock and dirt scattered around the deck and collecting it all in a tiny twister. “I got the Terra-Terra Fruit a few years ago.”
His eyes brighetend like stars. “That’s so cool!”
Usopp faced Sanji with a slack jaw. “What is it with their family and devil fruits?”
“Hello?” Nami waved a hand between you and Luffy. “She tried to rob us, Luffy.”
You inched away from her with a small smile. “Sorry about that. Desperate times, yeah?”
Despite the frowns set on everyone’s faces, you had a good feeling you would win them all over. You were just too charming, after all. Casting a look around, a familiar ache gnawed at your stomach. “Uhm, have you got any food?”
જ ⁀ ➴
The crew quickly decided that Ace was their favorite of the family.
While Ace was polite, generous, and charming, you and Luffy were cut from the very same cloth. Messy and loud, the only difference was that you were slightly more aware of your surroundings than your brother.
“Yeah, she and Luffy were always tied at the hip,” said Ace, his voice crackling to life from the transponder snail Sanji pulled out one late night. “Just… don’t be too harsh on her. She’s had a rough few months.”
Sanji had no clue what that meant, but he almost wanted to find out, not just because you’re pretty. A shadowy look always eclipsed your face, no matter how big your smile got. Over the few weeks you’d spent on the Going Merry, Sanji tried to get to know your story, but you never answered more than a few sentences before disappearing the whole afternoon.
“You knew her from before,” he said to Zoro one morning, stopping the swordsman as they traded spots for the night watch. “Do you know anything?”
Zoro adjusted his swords at his hip, chewing at his cheek. “All I know is a couple years ago, she was one of the most wanted mercenaries on the East Blue. Now, she’s a shadow of that person on the Grand Line. Isn’t that just what this place does?”
“Maybe…” But Sanji knew better. Maybe he was so concerned because he knew that sometimes, on days darker and gloomier than the rest, he had that same look in his eye. So he caught you one night watch when you had no choice but to lean against the ship rail and deal with his company.
He took a long drag from a cigarette, preparing what he’d say, when you nudged him and reached out to take the smoke from him. Sanji scoffed a laugh as he handed it off, watching you inhale deep and expel it in a puff, your eyes heavy. “Wanna talk about it?”
“About what?” You took another drag.
“Whatever it is you thought of.”
From the way your face darkened, Sanji thought you might stub the cig on the deck and leave him there to take your watch, but you only stood there, head hung between your shoulders. You gave him back his smoke hesitantly.
“For the longest time,” you sighed, “I wanted so badly to know where I come from.” Sanji tilted his head in unspoken question. “Me and Luffy aren’t reallys siblings. We’re adopted, I guess.”
“Ah.” That made all your similarities a little more uncanny, but it made sense. You didn’t really look like Luffy anyway. “And… you found out?”
You nodded shortly, picking at a splinter in the rail. “Not to long ago. I always imagined that my parents loved me, and that we got separated by some tragedy that left me on Dawn Island.” Your voice broke off hollowly. “But that’s not it at all.”
He didn’t say anything when you started crying, and he didn’t ask what exactly plagued your past. Sanji just… stood there, offered you a cloth from his pocket, and waited till you compeod yourself to give you his cigarette.
“Thank you,” you whispered as the sun peeked up over the sea.
“No need. I’m here if you want to talk. All of us are, really.”
You doubted that, but you sent him a smile and descended to the girl’s cabin for some sleep. Nami and Robin remained sleeping softly as you slipped into bed, staring up at the ceiling wide awake. Your slammed the heels of your palms to your eyes, silently screaming into the air.
“Why,” you hissed. “Why did I cry?”
Sheets rustled across the room, and suddenly Robin’s eyes glinted at you. “You were crying?”
“Who’s crying?” Nami yawned as she pushed up on her elbows.
You just about buried yourself in your blanket and suffocated yourself, face warming over. “No one! Go to sleep.”
“Can’t,” Nami snapped back. “You practicality stomped in here. I’m thoroughly awake.”
“Same here.” Robin and Nami shifted to face you from their beds, sleepy eyes hooded as they gazed upon you. “What’s the matter?”
You sat quiet as a mouse, eyes wide and caught, until you flopped over on your side and pulled your blanket up to your chin. “Sorry I woke you.”
The two Strawhats locked eyes, brows equally raised. They’d been conspiring to figure you out ever since you joined their adventures, and this certainly added fuel to their investigative fire. Because as much as you laughed and played and made messes everywhere you went, a great shadow lurked behind you—and everyone could see it.
Like a lingering ghost of a past you’d rather forget, something haunted followed your every move. From the way you cast glances over your shoulder at every port to how you fell into frightening silence at certain points in conversation, the entire Strawhat Crew felt the way darkness pulled at you.
And they would find out why—Whether you liked it or not, they would find a way to help you.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:
@100520s
#one piece x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#luffy x reader#luffy x you#luffy x y/n#luffy x yn#monkey d luffy x you#monkey d luffy x y/n#cat burglar nami x reader#nami x reader#nami x you#nami x yn#nami x y/n#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#zoro x you#zoro x y/n#zoro x yn#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x y/n#one piece fanfiction#sanji x reader#robin x reader#x platonic!reader#x sister!reader
242 notes
·
View notes
Text
you remembered the first time you laid eyes on jj maybank.
a shitty admin job was the best you could score from your father, the sheriff — something light you could add to your resumé, whilst doing minimal work. you didn’t anticipate working in the local jail to be as boring as it was, despite knowing you were going into a job that consisted solely of checking people in and out and punching names into a computer. you tried to make it as fun as possible, showing up in your cutest miniskirts, fluffiest jackets, daintiest mary-jane heels, but there was never anyone interesting coming in and out the cells, only drunks being thrown into the tank after one too many.
that was until jj came along.
it was like everything moved in slow motion the first time he got brought in. your father had the blondes wrists clipped behind his back, shoving him along the hallways. it was the first young person you’d gotten in weeks, your shoulder finding the door frame as you stare, watching in intrigue. whatever jj had done to get himself wound up in a cell, he didn’t seem remotely sorry about it. the smirk on his face was worn proudly as a medal, even whilst being shoved along by the sheriff he had this swagger to each step. you didn’t even realise you were staring, dressed in all your girly glory until he locked eyes with you.
his smirk spread on his face. jj knew who you were, but that was to no surprise — everyone did. the sheriffs daughter. a title you wore not so proudly, as all it did was get you labelled as a narc by association in high school and barred from any party where drinking or smoking could potentially be occurring. jj’s eyes drag down you, and then back to your eyes, even turning his head to hold the eye contact as he got shoved into a cell.
your father followed his gaze before grabbing a fistful of his white tshirt to hold him straight. “and quit eye balling my daughter, would you?”
he holds your gaze with that amused grin for a moment longer before blinking down at the shorter man. “thats my bad, sheriff.” he drawls in that lazy southern accent of his. you had to have him.
it was over from that point on. you’d seek him out, tired of being associated with your fathers profession and wanting to have some fun for once. jj was more than happy to oblige, infact he couldn’t believe his luck. there was a thrill to the two of you being out in the open together, something in the two of you wanting to be caught — just to see what would happen. you’d even go as far as to makeout against your car right outside the station after you’d finished a shift, jj all but shoving his tongue down your open mouth as his hands grope you all over for other officers to see and relay to shoupe.
jj frequently returned to his temporary cell with all the trouble he’d get in — your glossed lips turning upwards elatedly at the sight of his cuffed form trudging its way through the hall like routine. you’d even gotten to the point of ignoring your father and running to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “oh jayj what’d you get yourself into this time?” you whine, only for him to chuckle it off with the same joke he made each time.
“maybe i just wanted to see you, babydoll.”
by which at this point, your father had yanked you off the boy, sending you away. “go do your work, don’t lemme tell you again.”
of course it drove a wedge between you and your father. but he deserved it! he ruined your social life growing up by shutting down parties and arresting your peers, the least you could do was date one of his hottest cell-regulars. every gaze across the waiting room as maybank checks out was met with your father appearing seemingly from nowhere to ask “you really think it’s gonna work out with a kid like that? don’t come cryin’ to me when you get hurt. i warned ‘ya.” to which you’d roll your eyes and walk away. jj would never hurt you, not unless you asked him to.
he was always desperate to get his hands on you in other ways during your alone time, crowding you from behind at the sketchy bar he’d brought you to and wrapping his arms round your waist.
“your daddy’s gon’ be real mad at me for bringing his sweet little daughter to a joint like this.” he jokes, pressing kisses to the sweet spot behind your ear as you lose interest in attempting to attract the bartenders attention.
“he’s not the boss of me.” you sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you. you hear him chuckle, craning round to look at you from the side.
“nah? all grown up now, huh.” he comments, making a weak giggle leave you as you press your ass further into his crotch. “guess someone’s gotta step up then, right? maybe next time i’ll be the one puttin’ you in cuffs. bet you’d like that.” his coarse hands slide down your arms to your wrists before binding them with his hands behind your back, continuing to attack your jaw and neck with little kisses.
“you can do whatever you like to me, jj.” you admit sweetly, and he responds with a kiss to your cheek.
“i know. it’s my favourite thing about ‘ya.”
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
could've been you - aizawa, hawks
✦ synopsis: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy.
✦ chapter content warnings: none
✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader
chapter ten
ao3
TAG LIST:
@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,
@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny @minminroie @skazewrld
You spent the rest of your Saturday with Shouta - planning out your collaborating class next week and what you want to test the kids on.
It's nice hanging out with Shouta. Even just as friends. It reminded you of high school, how you would hide behind the bleachers during class while the rest of the class ran laps. How Shouta would cover his ears if it was too loud around him, so you bought him ear plugs to help ease the pain he would get in his head.
Your legs laid along his couch, your ankles sitting on top of his lap as he traces shapes on your skin gently. You were both reading, so the room is silent. But you have never felt more comfortable.
"Shouta?" You look up from your book, watching the raven haired man with the tired eyes meet your gaze.
"Yes?"
"This is nice." You smiled, setting your book on your thighs.
"I agree." Shouta looked back at his book as he began to rub your foot gently with his large, callused hand.
"Have you ever wanted to, maybe, go out somewhere?"
He looked at you as if you were stupid. "You know I hate going out."
"You don't like dates?"
"I don't remember the last time I went on one. I usually just-" He stopped speaking to look at you. "I would just bring women home, but I haven't in a couple of years."
"You haven't had sex in years?"
"Shut up." Shouta squeezed your foot with his hand. "It's not as hard as it looks. Plus, I don't like using women for sex. It's much better when there's feeling behind it."
You could feel your cheeks flush red as you think about having sex with Aizawa. His strong arms locked around you, his cock pounding into you like he has all the time in the world to fuck you.
"Is sex meaningful to you? Or would you just fuck anyone?"
"I like it more when there's feelings, definitely."
"Well you fucked that bird, so I'm gonna go with the latter."
"Shouta!" You shoved him gently with your hand. "I did like him."
"Did? Feelings gone already?" His voice was smooth, pushing his fringe behind his ear.
"Once you've fucked me over, my feelings are gone. Usually."
"Usually, hm?" Shouta leaned in towards your face, his body invading your immediate space. "Someone's gotten a second chance?"
"Well he hasn't asked yet. So I guess not." You shrugged and brought your book closer to your face. Shouta pressed his index finger to the top of your book, pushing it down so he can see your face.
"This is me asking for a second chance, princess." Shouta almost whispered.
"You're usually mocking me when you call me princess. Do you really want a second chance?"
"You've always reminded me of a princess." He brought his index finger to the side of your face, caressing the outline of your cheeks and jaw. "Your big eyes, the way your hair is always so shiny." He hand ran through your hair. "Even when we were younger, I wasn't mocking you. I was just saying that so you wouldn't think I liked you."
"Sounds like you really liked me." You leaned into his touch, pressing your forehead onto his.
"Look in my head." Shouta looked at you.
"I don't want to use my quirk on you."
"I want you to look at the memory I'm thinking about. Please."
You sighed, focusing your energy on Shouta. You closed your eyes and moved your hands slowly, like you were reaching for his memory.
Soon enough you were inside his memory. You were both sat on the couch as you watched your surroundings.
"This is that coffee shop we went to when we first started as pro heroes." Your eyes were fixed on the Aizawa in your memory. He looked so much younger - the bags under his eyes not as deep as they are now.
"Look to your right." Shouta said to you, leaning back on the couch as he extends his arm behind you.
There you were.
You were ordering your coffee for you, Shouta, Enji, and Yamada. You looked so... happy.
You turn your attention back to the Aizawa in the memory, who was also staring at you.
You watched as Enji's mouth moved, but you couldn't quite hear him.
"You need to tell her how you feel." You finally heard Enji.
Your eyes went wide.
"She doesn't feel the same way, there's no point." Shouta turned away from you as you turned on your heel with the tray of coffees.
"You're such an idiot." Enji rolled his eyes.
"Our first coffees as pro heroes!" You smiled from ear to ear.
"Hell yeah!!" Yamada grabbed his coffee, pushing his cup in the air to meet yours. "Cheers to us!"
"Shouta, take your coffee and cheers with us. You too, Enji."
Enji had a sympathetic look on his face as he looked at Shouta. Like he knew how deep of feelings Shouta had for you.
Shouta watched every move you made, how your hips swayed as you sipped your coffee, something you often did when you had a sweet treat. How your hair fell beautifully on your shoulders, down your back almost to your ass.
You blinked, moving your hand in between the memory and reality, letting go of Aizawa's mind.
"Shouta. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to embarrass myself. I was sure you didn't like me, like that anyways."
You bring your knees to your chest, using your chin to lean on your kneecaps. "Funny, I thought the same about you up until you put me in a coma."
Aizawa turned his head down, almost like you cut him with a sharp knife.
You stared at him for a moment, hoping he would say something.
Anything.
"Will you go to dinner with me?" He finally spoke.
"You just said-"
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
You ponder the question for a moment. You've wanted to see Shouta in a romantic setting for a long time. Where you both dress up, you put on your best makeup, and you could end the night in Shouta's arms.
"Tonight."
"It's 5PM."
"So you have 3 hours to get ready." You get up from the couch to slip your shoes on. "Pick me up at 8."
NEXT CHAPTER IS THE DATEEEEE HEHE
#aizawa x reader#aizawa#eraserhead#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa x reader#bnha shouta aizawa#mha hawks#keigo takami#mha takami keigo#keigo x reader#hawks x reader#mha fanfiction#mha fanfic#aizawa smut#shouta aizawa smut#shouta aizawa#aizawa fanfiction#aizawa mha#hawks mha#hawks smut#bnha keigo#keigo tamaki#keigo smut
55 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi there. I wanted to make a request for something a bit personal. All this week, my family has been criticizing my weight (which I have struggled with my whole life) and told me point-blank that no one would ever love me because of it. That being said, I would like to request a writing with Soap. Let's say the reader has been avoiding sex with him for a while. They'll kiss and stuff, but as soon as he starts pulling her shirt up, she pulls it back down and makes some sort of excuse. This goes on for a while until Soap confronts her about it. She basically then goes off, pointing out all her bodily flaws and how fat and hideous she thinks she is and asks him how he could ever think she was sexy. And all he says is, “How can I NOT?” And he makes love to her and every time she makes a complaint about her body or calls herself ugly, she shushes her, ultimately taking her in front of a mirror and making her look at herself and how sexy she looks taking him. And when they're done, Soap should talk about how she's not fat, she's cute and squishy.
Hi anon, thank you for waiting for this! I’ve been really busy and did not want to put up anything half-arsed because this is a very important ask! Anyone who makes you feel like that sucks, and I’ve been there myself with family commenting on my weight. I had a whole rant lined up but then I realised that Soap already had it in hand, so I will let him takeover from here…
TW: MDNI 18+, bodyshaming and fatphobia, emotion support, p in v
It was getting harder and harder to make up excuses. Each time you came up with a reason you couldn’t stay over at his place, or a reason your clothes had to stay on when you did agree to sleep in the same bed, literally sleep, his eyes narrowed. You couldn’t keep this up, it was too hard, too unfair on this sweet, loving man.
Johnny had come into your life like a wrecking ball, all loud mouth and charming personality. You had been swept off your feet by him the moment you’d seen him in the pub, a rare and welcome night out with friends, and he had zeroed in on you. He’d made you feel like you were the only other person in that hot, noisy and packed pub, his eyes locked onto you the moment you spoke to him to say hi.
The last few months had been amazing, he doted on you, texting or calling each day he was away from you back at base. He worshipped you, wanting nothing more than to hear you laugh and be near you. The problem was he was getting very amorous. Kissing and cuddling on the sofa was turning into heavy make out sessions, his hands grazing over your curves and teasing just beneath the hem of your top.
It made you increasingly uncomfortable, your doubts about how he’d react to seeing under your baggy clothes ate at you. Unfortunately, you’d become so used to being put down about your weight, being told you were undeserving of love and affection, that you had never really let your walls down around him. The rot ran deep, right to your core, whispering to you that he wouldn’t stay and this was only a fling for him until he got bored and left for someone more like him.
Finally, things quickly got heated when he pushed you, trying to get you to tell him why you’d shut down and withdrawn from him completely after another failed make out session where you'd retreated to your room and shut the door in his face. He just burst in, demanding to know what the deal was.
“If I let you see me naked you’ll leave!” you blurt out finally, throat tight with the hot threat of tears. Everything seems to stop once you let the words out, and he stands there staring at you with an unreadable expression as you sit on the end of your bed.
“D’ya think I’m that shallow?” he demands into the thick silence, and the pain in his voice cuts like a knife into your heart. “D’ya really think I’d do such a thing? What have I said or done to give you that impression?” He edges closer as he speaks, until he reaches you and then kneels down in front of you.
“No, I don’t think you’re shallow,” you mumble weakly, trying to avoid his eyes but he cups your face in his large, warm hands and forces you to look into his crystal blue gaze. There’s nothing but affection in those eyes, love and concern for you blinding you like the sun.
“You are beautiful, and I want to be with you just as you are, right here and now,” he says softly, but with an edge of steel beneath the silk of his words. “Anyone who says otherwise and fuck off. If I hear them say it, it’ll be the last thing they ever do. You hear me?”
There’s no way to hide from him, and you nod, letting out a sigh of relief that’s quickly muffled by his lips.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, have been since the moment I first saw you,” he says as his lips trail across your cheek and chin, down to your neck. “I dinnae care what size or shape you are, hen, I love you for who you are. As long as you are happy and safe, I’m the luckiest man alive to be by your side.”
Suddenly, you realise that having spoken your fear out loud it holds less power over you, and your shoulder relax.
“C’mon, get up,” he says gently, and you stand up, letting him position you in front of your floor length mirror. “Tell me what you don’t like,” he instructs you, standing by your shoulder and locking eyes with you in the reflection.
“Well, the rolls around my middle,” you admit weakly, hands fluttering to cover them automatically. With a smile, he takes your hands away and crouches in front of you, lifting the front of your top to reveal the skin beneath. Stretch marks catch the light but before you can react his lips are pressed to them, the soft warmth making your breath stutter.
“Tell me another one,” he groans, peppering more kisses to your stomach while you think.
“My thighs,” you say before you can think about what he has planned. Warm hands caress your thighs through your leggings, and his breath ghosts through the fabric before kisses land. “Fucking hell…” you groan, “do you really think I’m sexy?”
“How can I not, when your this fuckin’ perfect?” he answers between kisses against you hip. It continues like this, you name a part of your body you’ve been taught to hate, and he worships it. Slowly but surely, you allow him to remove your clothing so he can fully show his adoration for every inch of skin, and you feel yourself come alive beneath his affection. The feel of his body against yours spurs on the growing heat between your thighs, and the moment you beg him to go further, he does.
You lose yourself in his loving embrace, letting him make you feel utterly beautiful as he draws wave after wave of pleasure from you. Letting yourself go, throwing alway all of your doubts and fears, it feels totally natural to feel his skin pressed against yours, sweating making your both glisten as you pant and groan. He grinds into you, spearing his cock deep into you, all the time whispering praises and prayers to your dips and curves. Only when you come undone around him does he stop, the snap and pull of his hips filling the quiet until he follows you over the edge.
“Was that okay, love?” he asks hoarsely, panting heavily as he settles you against his side under the covers. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“That was amazing,” you breathe in response, heading still swimming slightly.
“Good, you deserve nothing but praise. You’re mine, and you’re perfect in all your soft, squishy glory.”
You can't help but chuckle at that, especially as his rough palm rubs appreciatively over your soft hip as he says it.
"So you think I'm cute?"
"Aye, that's it," he chuckles back, placing a kiss on your forehead.
#storm cat answers#body shaming IS NEVER OKAY#written by a fat bird#john soap mactavish#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mw22#cod mwii#soap mactavish#soap mw2#call of duty soap#soap cod#fat reader#john soap mactavish x oc#johhny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish fluff#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x you#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish smut#john soap mactavish#john mactavish x you#johnny mactavish smut#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#soap john mactavish#soap mactavish smut
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
TW: past suicide (not main character), past attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, mental health crisis.
The water was dark and choppy below his feet, dangling over the river from where Eddie sat on the bridge.
It was one of those bridges with a good footpath, but tended to be deserted at night so a car only passed Eddie every once in a while. None slowed, not seeing his shadowy figure leaning against one of the pillars. His car was pulled onto the shoulder just off of the bridge and he’d been there just long enough to wish he’d brought a jacket, but not long enough to convince himself to leave.
What was he going home to? An empty house? To a life that no longer felt worth-
No. He shook his head to disperse the thoughts, but he didn’t get up, kicking his feet as he looked at the water far beneath him.
He barely heard the footsteps before someone sat beside him. He turned, ready to say any excuse or to run in case the person was weird, but any words he had died on his tongue when he saw Tommy Kinard sitting beside him. The older man was watching him with a carefully blank face, but his eyes were worried.
Eddie waited for the other man to speak first and an awkward amount of time passed before he realized it was on him. “What are you doing here?”
He then kicked himself. He could’ve struck up a friendly conversation, said anything else to get that worried look out of Tommy’s eyes, but he didn’t and the look only grew deeper.
“Passing by, saw your car. Could ask you the same thing, Eddie. Perilous place to stargaze.”
“I’m fine.” And maybe it was something in his tone or maybe Tommy was never going to be fooled anyway, but his answer only made the worry lines in his friend’s face deeper. “Really. I’m just clearing my thoughts.”
Tommy hummed and looked down at the choppy water below just as a gust of wind washed over them. Eddie shivered. “There’s a nice park across the bridge. That’s a pretty good place to think. Been there a few times myself. Less dangerous than here. Less cold.”
“It’s not too bad.” Eddie was, in fact, freezing, but he could barely feel it. He felt a flicker of irritation that Tommy was still there. He just wanted to be left alone. “Seriously man, I’m good. You on your way to Buck’s?”
Tommy hummed an affirmation. “Yeah, but I’m in no rush. Might sit here for a minute, if you don’t mind. Pay my respects.”
Eddie couldn’t help the curiosity, even over the growing irritation that he tried not to examine too closely. “Your respects?”
“Mhm. Lost someone here about seven years ago.”
“A call?”
“Nah. Someone more personal.”
“I’m sorry.” The irritation died down as he took in Tommy’s distant look.
“He was a bastard, but he deserved better.” Tommy turned to look at Eddie and the younger man felt a little too seen under sharp blue eyes. “Wouldn’t think it, but it’s not an uncommon place to pitch yourself off of. We attended more than a few calls here, back when I was at the 118.”
The irritation flickered back to life and Eddie swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Yeah. We got a call like that last week.”
“Did they survive?”
“No. DOA.”
Tommy hummed softly. “Sorry, man. Those are rough.” He nudged Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably should head back, man. You don’t want to fall in.”
“Seriously, I’m good, man. Thanks. I’m just going to hang out here.”
To his annoyance, Tommy didn’t move. Eddie stared out over the water, shoulders tense as he waited for the other man to either leave or say something. He finally did, voice tentative as he asked, “You doing ok, Eds?”
The irritation snapped into something bigger. “I’d do a lot better alone, Tommy. No offense man, but I really don’t want company right now.” He dared to look over at the pilot and the man’s blank face made him snap, “Seriously, man, you’re acting like I’m going to throw myself off!”
“I did.”
It took a moment to register in Eddie’s brain, but when it did, the irritation flickered out like an extinguished candle. “What?”
“Rather, I tried.” Tommy’s face was stony and he wasn’t looking at Eddie, eyes turned towards the water. “The guy I lost here seven years ago was me, Eddie. Or rather, the man I used to be. And I tried to throw the rest of me in with him. This very spot. It’s the deepest. I jumped from where you’re sitting now.”
Eddie was lost for words, jolted out of his own head for the first time in a while. “But you’re alive.”
“I never hit the water.” Tommy looked down, fiddling with his hoodie string. “Someone caught me as I stepped off, dragged me back onto the bridge no matter how much I screamed for him to let me go.”
Eddie tried to wrap his brain around it, the little pieces of a picture he had no idea existed with the man sitting next to him. “Why?” His voice sounded wrecked.
“I thought my life was over. I thought everything I’d worked for, everything that I’d fought for, was gone. I’d faked being someone I wasn’t until I was and that person was someone I despised but I thought I was protecting myself until that night. I thought I’d given up everything and it was all for nothing. I was going to be ostracized from the only family I had. So I came here to end it all.”
His voice was matter of fact, but quivered slightly towards the end. Eddie floundered for a moment, feeling like he’d been pushed off of the bridge into the cold waters below. “But you were saved?”
“By the person I thought was going to end my life. By one of the people I thought I was dying to avoid. He’d followed me here, knew what I was going to do. He…” Tommy paused, swallowing harshly. “He hated who I was. He wanted me to hide who I was. But he didn’t want me dead. So he pulled me off of this bridge and took me home and didn’t allow me out of his sight until he knew I wasn’t a danger to myself anymore. And then he left my life. He hated who I was too much to stay, but he didn’t hate me enough to let me die.”
There was a lot to unpack there. And if Eddie was a good friend, he would ask more questions, listen to Tommy. But he didn’t think he could be a good friend to anyone right now, including himself. “You think I’m here to jump?”
“You have the same look in your eye that I had in those days leading up to me stepping off of this spot. I don’t know if you’re here to jump Eddie, but I don’t think you’re going to catch yourself either. Like hell am I going to leave you here. So please, Eddie, let me take you off of this bridge, alright? Because I’m not leaving until you do.”
Eddie looked down, lump in his throat as he watched the waves. “But…”
“Trust me, man. It’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Because it’s temporary. Chris is coming back and you guys will sort it out. You have a family that loves you and friends that want you. And you have a hell of a lot to live for. So you’re going to come back with me to Evan and you’re going to stay with us. Tomorrow we’re going to call your therapist.” There was a pause. “You have a therapist, right? Cause if not, we’re getting you one.”
Eddie nodded slowly. “Frank.”
And he shouldn’t expect Tommy to know who Frank was, but the man nodded immediately. “LAFD Frank? Good man. We’re calling him.”
Eddie turned to look at Tommy, shivering slightly as he felt the next gust of wind. “But you and Buck-“
“Don’t even think about it. Evan wants you there too.”
“You haven’t told him though.”
“I don’t have to. Eddie, will you let me get you off this bridge?”
And every fiber in Eddie’s being screamed at him to say no, to pull away. But Tommy was there, gaze unwavering and determined. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted him to anymore.
He was so confused. He was so tired.
“Ok.”
#tw: mental health#tw: sui attempt#tw: sucidal thoughts#911 abc#911 show#9-1-1#tommy kinard#evan buckley#eddie diaz#bucktommy#unreliable narrators#tk6 writes#911 season 7#9 1 1 fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#911 fanfic
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
WTF - Part 4
Blitzø wanted to curl into a ball and die. He felt so fucking small and weak and pathetic. His deepest insecurity, his biggest hurdle with Stolas, was finally laid bare at the Prince’s feet. And he was fucking TERRIFIED. All Stolas had to do was breathe and he could blow Blitzø away completely. Topple the walls Blitzø had spent his life building. Destroy him entirely. Wreck him forever for anyone else… HA! Who was he fucking kidding? There’d never be anyone else…
The empty space and silence between them began to grow like a chasm. Every second it felt to the two of them that they were drifting further apart. Soon the depth of silence and the distance between them would become too great. Too far to ever reach across again.
“Blitz!” Stolas choked in anguish. He fell to his knees, startling Blitzø. Blitzø looked at him in shock, tears streaming down his face.
“Please!” Stolas buried his face in his hands and cried. “What can I do to make you see?… How much you mean to me…” His words came in ragged gasps.
Blitzø was crumbling. He had nothing left to protect him anymore. His walls were gone. And there he stood: raw and naked, bawling like a fucking baby in front of the man he loved, the man he didn’t deserve. What the fuck was he supposed to say?
Try and ruin it. OBVIOUSLY… fuck me…
“What could I possibly mean to anyone?” He muttered, hugging himself tightly. “Especially you?… I’m a worthless nobody.”
Stolas lashed out and grabbed Blitzø tightly by the shoulders and shook him. HARD.
Blitzø’s head snapped forward and back once like the crack of a whip; his teeth gnashed so hard they felt like they might crack
“How DARE YOU!” Stolas yelled at him in between tears. “After ALL this TIME!” His hands gripped tighter, making Blitzø wince.
Stolas was angry. Really fucking angry. But also frantic and confused.
“After ALL the time we SPENT together! How DARE you say you don’t mean anything to me!!” His pupils danced in his glowing ruby eyes.
Blitzø was transfixed, caught in their glare.
“You’re worth EVERYTHING to me, Blitz! You and Octavia are my WORLD!” Stolas shook him again, but his anger was waning. His grip was loosening. His bottom lip quivered.
Blitzø didn’t stamp out his thoughts anymore… He DESPERATELY wanted to kiss those lips.
“I went to the human world for you! Risked exposure! Risked EVERYTHING for you!” Stolas’s grip loosened and his hands began to slip away. “And you didn’t even… You left…” His voice shook. He sniffled back tears. “You didn’t even care enough to visit me in the hospital!”
Blitzø’s heart dropped.
NO!
His hands snapped up and caught Stolas’s before he could pull them away completely.
“I DO CARE!” Blitzø cried desperately. “I care SO FUCKING MUCH, Stolas!”
Stolas jolted in shock. He stared wide-eyed and unblinking back at Blitzø. His heart raced and threatened to beat out of his chest.
Blitzø actually cared for him? He felt his beak flapping open and closed like a fish gasping for breath - speechless and dumbstruck.
Stolas.exe has ceased to function. Please reboot.
Blitzø clasped Stolas’s hands tightly between his and stared into his eyes pleadingly. Desperate for him to understand. For him to not reject him. For him to stay.
“I’ve ripped myself apart EVERY. SINGLE. DAY since Striker took you! Since I saw you wheeled into that hospital!” Blitzø’s voice cracked.
Stolas finally felt himself coming back online. He shook his head to clear the mess, and pointedly made eye contact with Blitzø. He looked so desperate. So broken.
I want to hold him so much…
Stolas leaned in, returning the hold of Blitzø’s hands; lacing their fingers together.
Blitzø shivered and averted his gaze, but gripped tighter to Stolas’s hands.
“It was MY fucking FAULT you got hurt, Stolas.” Blitzø choked out. “I didn’t DESERVE to be around you. I didn’t DESERVE to feel relief. I made my fucking bed when I left you high and dry and I had to fucking LAY IN IT!”
Blitzø spat the words out with such hatred and venom his body shook.
It pained Stolas so badly to hear Blitzø speak this way.
“Blitz…” Stolas whispered sadly. He rubbed his thumbs back and forth over Blitzø’s. He hoped it would be a welcome and calming show of affection.
He had never seen Blitzø like this before. So open. So vulnerable. He knew he was being given a gift. Something very precious. And that’s why he was so terrified to say the wrong thing. Afraid to say something that would have Blitzø slamming the door in his face, never to see this side of him again.
Stolas watched as Blitzø’s measured breaths became slower and less frantic. He continued to rub his thumbs over Blitzø’s. And he definitely wasn’t thinking about how beautiful this man was. How much he loved these hands, and what they could do to-
AHEM…
“But… Your colleagues. Moxxie and Mildred? They came…” Stolas said cautiously. “Was that not your doing?”
Blitzø startled and whipped back to look at Stolas. He searched those ruby eyes for… What? What was he looking for?
Stolas looked down at Blitzø imploringly. Head tilted slightly at the question, eyes soft, and the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth. Blitzø felt a heat pool in his stomach and his legs jelly.
“I…” He blinked a few times trying to remember what the fuck he was supposed to be saying.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous…
Stolas squeezed his hands reassuringly.
“Fuck… Yes?…” Blitzø heaved a heavy sigh and threw his head back to look at the ceiling. He couldn’t focus when he was looking at Stolas.
“I mean… I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do, but then Millie, like, offered?… And Mox was all eager and shit… And… FUCK…” Blitzø started to hyperventilate. He didn’t want to live this over again. He dropped Stolas’s hands without realizing it and backed away. He grabbed his head trying to drown out the deafening blood pounding in his ears and paced.
Stolas watched on in anguish. The man he loved was tearing himself apart because he didn’t think HE was enough for HIM. Not the other way around. It was so stupid a thing that Stolas would have laughed if it hadn’t caused them so much pain.
Stolas took off his hat and clutched it tightly in his hands. He glared at the crown on its brim. He wanted to crush it, destroy all it stood for. Instead, he tossed it aside.
Fuck it. Fuck it ALL!
“Loona NEEDED that shot… She NEEDED IT…” Blitzø couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning. He stopped and turned to Stolas. And there he was. The light at the end of the tunnel. The surface. All he had to do was reach it.
Blitzø stumbled over himself to get back to Stolas. To reach the surface.
He tripped. Stolas caught him. They clutched each other’s forearms, hands at their elbows. When he looked up, their faces were so close.
“I didn’t…” He swallowed, shuttering the desperate thoughts of kissing him. “I couldn’t fucking CHOOSE.”
Blitzø broke.
“I COULDN’T CHOOSE!” The tears gushed and he shook.
“Dearest…”
Stolas yanked Blitzø and held him in a tight hug against him.
Blitzø froze for only a moment and then he was crying, grasping desperately to Stolas and burying his face into his chest feathers, breathing in his scent.
Stolas cooed soothing words over and over “It’s alright. I understand. You did nothing wrong.” And stroked Blitzø’s back. He rested his chin on the top of his head and relished the feeling of holding him in his arms.
Blitzø knew Stolas was trying to make him feel better, but he knew didn’t deserve it.
He tried to wriggle free.
Stolas loosened his hold on Blitzø when he felt him struggling in his arms. He looked down to see him trying to push away from him. His heart dropped.
“Blitz…” His voice cracked. “What are you doing?”
Blitzø shoved him away, his chest caving in with the effort, his world crumbling down around him. He couldn’t take Stolas down with him. He could at least spare him this.
“I fucking HATE myself Stolas!” He cried.” I break everything I touch!…”
Stolas reached out to him pleadingly, his eyes filled with tears.
“Blitz! Please…” He managed to brush the back of his hand and they looked at each other. Just looked at each other.
Lust and longing and anguish and anger and desperation and despair and friendship and flirations and laughter and love… and love… love… love…
Blitzø staggered back like he’d be shoved.
FUCK!
“I love you too much to break you too!” He cried.
Blitzø fell to his knees. He grabbed his horns and fell forward into a ball, forehead and horns pressed to the floor. He curled as close to his knees as he could.
***
#helluva boss#stolitz#blitzø#stolas#fanfic#stolitz fanfiction#stolitz angst#helluva boss stolitz#helluva boss fanfiction
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Miss May I: Season 5 Part 15
Isabella: I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow. I'm going to miss you so much.
Richie: I'm gonna miss you too, but I need to go so I can take care of you once I'm back.
Damian: Good luck at uni, man. If anyone can do it, it's you.
Damian: Don't let the big city change you too much.
Richie: Don't count on it. Someone has to keep an eye on you hicks.
Isabella: I can't believe he's really leaving. What am I supposed to do without him?
Julian: Bell, there's more to life than just being a housewife.
Isabella: You're one to talk, Mommy. Just look how cute Jasper is. Every time I see him I can't wait to have my own.
Julian: What if I'm pregnant?
Isabella: What do you mean what if you're pregnant? Then we jump up and down and cheer. This is what you want, right? You're not 16 anymore. You're married now. You actually want this one. I mean, not that you didn't want Jasper, but you know what I mean. This one was on purpose. Right?
Julian: Noah's been using.
Isabella: Using? What, like drugs?
Julian: Yeah.
Isabella: How do you know?
Julian: My mom was an addict. I know all the signs. Money is disappearing without a trace. He's moody or tired all the time. He screams at me in front of Jasper. He's gone all the time but lied about being fired from his job.
Isabella: None of those things are good. What are you going to do?
Julian: I'm gonna ask Vivi if Jasper and I can stay with him for a while. I can't bring him back to that house with Noah how he is.
Isabella: That's a good idea. But what if you're pregnant?
Julian: I'm not sure. I still have to take a test. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, I guess.
Previous | Beginning | Next
Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3 | Season 4
Family Tree
*Guys' poses by @bmit04*
#sims 3#ts3#simblr#ts3 simblr#sims story#ts3 story#story simblr#miss may i#miss may i season 5#miss may i season 5 part 15#julian lowry#jasper lowry#isabella malone#richie carver#damian mays#tw drug mention
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Scary? My God, You’re Divine
| part 1
pairings: ghost! beomgyu x fem! reader, coworker! yeonjun x fem! reader
summary: you’re excited to start a new chapter of life, moving into a relatively nice little place. though your landlord had said the place was old as rocks, it was remodeled and made new. you were never the type to be especially involved with the paranormal, but it becomes hard to deny that your new place has some quirks.
warnings: nothing really just a little angst
wc: 1.4k
a/n:i wanted to show you my work but i tried to get it out quickly so I’m sorry it’s short😭
You stand with your hands on your hips, admiring your hard work of getting those heavy boxes full of furniture into the sad, empty house by yourself. You mumble to yourself, "This is stupid."
You turn around to walk back outside since there’s no heater or AC yet, and it’s boiling in the new modern house.
Once you’ve left the house, you lock the door behind you and get in your car. Once you’re back home, you're holding your cup of coffee, your keys, and a bunch of other stuff, including your phone.
As you unlock the door, you hear something and brush it off as some sort of water pipe noise because the website said it was just remodeled, but the house is fairly old.
When you walk in, you see the old ceramic vase your mother made for you in your freshman year of highschool. You wonder why it’s on the ground since it was packaged away in some big heavy box you were too lazy to look in. You convince yourself you’re just too tired to remember that you grabbed it because you just moved in. Why would you try to make yourself scared like a little kid?
As you pump up your temporary air mattress and lay down your pillow, you hear a small tap on the wall but just roll your eyes, thinking it’s nothing.
When you wake up and check the kitchen where you planned to unpack things first, you see a fork on the marble counter that you didn’t place there. You shrug and put it into the silverware drawer with the silverware organizer you put there yesterday before you slept.
Once your two best friends, Huening Kai and Huening Bahiyyih, arrive, they help you move things and place items such as shelves and your couch. Kai hears a sound from the pantry full of cans you packed. He opens the door and sees that somehow one of the corn cans ended up with the green bean cans. He huffs, "Bahiyyih, I swear if you put this corn can on the—"
He and Bahiyyih hear a sudden scream from upstairs followed by a shout of "BUG!" and a few footsteps. But once she gets off the stairs, there's an extra footstep behind her that wasn’t hers. They think nothing of it because there is practically nothing in the house besides basic furniture: a couch, a bed, a desk, and a few appliances in the kitchen so it could have just been an echo.
Kai calls out your name, “Yo, did you put this can here?” You walk over and shake your head as you grab a water bottle. “No, why? I thought you guys were in charge of the food.” He huffs, “We were until Bahiyyih decided to spill water everywhere.”
You laugh as she pouts. “It was an accident!” she confesses, and Kai rolls his eyes. “Right…”
As the three of you set up the sleeping arrangements for the night, Kai and Bahiyyih leave to get some food. You are by yourself, sitting on the bed you are sharing with Bahiyyih, while Kai sleeps on the mattress on the floor.
You feel a cold gust pass through you and turn your head to check the temperature in the house. Something moves out of the corner of your eyes, and quite literally nothing could’ve prepared you for there to be a man standing at the doorway of your bedroom. You freeze.
“What are–who are you?’ You ask, muscles taut and ready to bolt. He just looks at you for a good minute, then opens his mouth to talk and says “you can see me?” he says with a tilt of his head.
You sit up and say, "Get out of my house, or I'll call the police!" He doesn't reply; instead, he sits there for a moment, then goes invisible for a second and reappears. You stand there in shock, your mouth open, and he just stares at you.
As soon as Kai and Bahiyyh get back, the man is immediately gone. They ask, "Girl, we just got you food. Are you okay?" Still a little shaken up, you reply, "Yeah, I'm just tired from moving a bunch of heavy boxes." Kai laughs, and you nod, going to grab the food the two goblins started eating before they got to the house.
You huff getting up and the others say they’re gonna go sleep so you decide to leave your food uneaten and just go sleep.in the morning your friends wake you up and it’s around 7 and 8am and you whine “shut up” she say with a pout because you want to sleep and they say “girl you have to wake up if you want to be over fixing up the house”
Once the house is finally organized, they leave, give you hugs, and you wave them goodbye. After they’re gone, you plop onto the couch to watch a movie. The only thing you're interested in is Mean Girls, it’s the only good thing on Netflix.
A few minutes before the movie ends, you hear a sound from the kitchen. You get up to check if it’s a mouse, as the landlord mentioned there might be mice in the first week. However, when you get there, the same man is standing there.
He’s wearing a fancy outfit with a white button-up top that looks like something a prince would wear, black dress shoes, and black formal pants. You back away and say, “Why are you in my house again? I said I’ll—”
He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you. When he steps, his steps don’t make a sound as he says, “Your house?”
You threaten to call the police on him again, and the handsome man tilts his head. “What’s the police?”
You say, “Are you stupid.” He just looks at you and shrugs his shoulders.
He says, “Well, my name's Beomgyu—”
You roll your eyes. “I’m not asking for your name. I’m asking you to get out of my fucking house,” you say,watching his movements with caution.
You sigh. “How long have you been here?” you ask, not as a question but as a demand.
When you try to touch him to drag him out of your house, your hand goes through him. You stop, and the world crashes around you. Did your hand just go through his arm? You sit open-mouthed, grasping at straws for a plausible reason for why that would happen. There are none. He seems a bit startled, too, watching your hand go through him. You stare at each other, a bit comically.
And then, like a wave that curls over and sucks you under, it hits you; you’re insane.
The man speaks. “how did that happen?”
You stand in shock like a deer in headlights, thinking you're literally insane, and you shrug. "I… I don't know what just happened." You go to grab him again and again, but your hand just keeps going through him with a small 'woosh' each time.
He says, just as scared as you, "I can't feel anything." he turns his head to look around your room and he says “are we insane?” you shrug replying “wait..what’s your last name..” you trail off forgetting his name “it’s Choi,Choi beomgyu is my name”
You look him up and down despite being terrified of him. "What are you wearing?" you ask, sighing as you judge his old-looking clothes. This guy looks like he's about to go to a Renaissance faire, you think, before your thoughts are cut off by him.
"Does your husband possibly know you've intruded on his wardrobe?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk you just want to smack off his face.
You put your hands on your hips. "I don't have a husband. What do you mean?" You say it like you're truly offended, but you know you're not and you'd like to stay without one. You remember some sob story your aunt told you about boys when you were thirteen, and you've been avoiding boys left and right since then.
Later, you (well, mostly you) search up his name on Google, and it says that he was born in 1500 and died in 1523. He was a poet and a songwriter. It doesn’t mention the cause of death, and Beomgyu himself doesn’t seem to know how he died. He says, "I'm dead?" with a sad tone. You look at him in terror because you're literally looking at a ghost.
END PART 1
#beomgyu#choi beomgyu#paranormal#txt fanfic#fanfic#beomgyu fanfic#beomgyu smut#light angst#txt beomgyu#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu x you#beomgyu x female reader#beomgyu x y/n#paranormal romance#romance#romantic#scary#smut#yeonjun#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x female reader#yeonjun smut#yeonjun fanfic#txt smut#txt
33 notes
·
View notes
Note
for tender prompts: dancing to a slow jazz song after a long day of work
JAKE LOCKLEY :3
I Don't Dance
"Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own."
Thanks for this @runa-falls! Ahhhhh love it!
Not me back on my "Jake listens to Miles Davis" tangent again...
for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024 for June 9th-15th: first time with the same sex, first kiss
1.4k words || Jake Lockley x m!reader* || flirting, roommates to lovers, slightly suggestive, vague mentions of food and drinking, language
*reader inclusivity notes: Reader wears glasses, is taller than Jake
Life is good…enough.
Work can be a drag, but you look forward to coming home to your roommate Jake. Usually he's worked all night, slept all day, and the two of you meet up around dinner time. You're friendly roommates, always considerately cooking and making enough food for the other, keeping the dishes clean and playing video games together.
You have the most massive crush on the smaller man. He's gorgeous, with smoldering brown eyes and luscious dark curls, with a tinge of early gray...
You've never been with a man before. Just a few failed, awkward romances with women, a few years back.
But recently you've been realizing that you're not single because you're some sort of loser, or something equally upsetting. You're single because women actually just don't interest you, not as much emotionally, and not really at all sexually.
One time you heard Jake in his room with a partner, groaning and grunting in pleasure, his muffled voice telling his lover how to take him.
That was...eye-opening.
Now you think about him all the time, but you don't know how to tell him, and worse, if you even should tell him. He's way too cute for you...right? Cute doesn't begin to cover it - the man oozes confidence...experience...smolder.
He's really nice too.
He was gone for a few days, out of town "for work" (whatever that is). When he got back, he actually gave you a quick hug. "Missed you, man." You forgot to breathe for so long, it came out like a dramatic sigh once you did.
Jake wondered if you were annoyed, but instead, asked you to play video games. The sides of your arms touched the whole time, and you had to put a pillow over your lap because your obvious…attraction.
Jake senses the tension between you and wonders if you're mad that he finished the peanut butter and didn’t buy more.
You clear your throat awkwardly, your gaze flickering away. “No, I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Jake - especially not over peanut butter.”
He hums out an ambiguous response, dragging a hand over the sexy stubble on his chin. "You must've missed me then." His eyebrows shoot up playfully.
God you want him so bad.
As if your greeting hug and video-game-a-thon weren't enough, work the next day couldn't go worse. Sometimes you feel invisible to colleagues and especially to your boss, who seems to have completely ignored your inquiry about an open management position. After a day of being overlooked and passed over, you’re so done.
You finally make it home, drenched from a sudden shower that seemed to wait until you walked out of work to start, and decided to stop as soon as you made it through your front door. Shedding your wet jacket, you stamp your feet on the mat just inside the door, yanking off your fogged up glasses so you can wipe them clean.
Unfortunately, rain does not look good on you the way it does on Jake. If he comes home wet, he's something out of a noir film, removing his cap, pushing those long fingers through his perfectly damp, thick curls - droplets of water making his long lashes shine as they kiss his cheeks. Rivulets of rain snake down the corded thickness of his throat, disappearing into his deliciously drenched white shirt, which hugs the shape of his body temptingly.
Must be nice.
Maybe you can make it to your room before he sees you looking like a wet rat.
You shower and make yourself presentable enough, moving around your home quietly, afraid your pathetic-ness will somehow repel your roommate - secretly crushed that Jake doesn't interact with you for an hour or so. Maybe he doesn't notice how brutal your day was.
A delicious aroma wafts down the hall from the kitchen a while later and you realize Jake is cooking dinner. Deciding you'd rather be in his presence than mope in your room, you venture out to interact. Dinners with Jake are the highlight of your life after all - that is, when you're not sitting with him, touching him, playing games together.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you steady yourself, remembering to take things one day at a time. He might not even be into guys. Or you specifically.
Jake looks up as you enter the kitchen, dark eyes brightening, but somehow immediately softening at your apparent distress. Your shoulders sag in defeat even as you put on a brave face to greet him.
Usually he leaves you alone when you're quiet, assuming you prefer it that way, but after you sat together all last night, he thought maybe...
Setting down a wooden spoon and reducing the heat underneath a sizzling skillet, he turns to you, and your heart races as you realize he's giving you his full attention. It's not helping that he's wearing an apron - that sight alone might kill you.
"You okay?" Dark eyebrows arch curiously as he boldly inches forward.
Blowing out an exhale through your lips, you quickly nod, realizing that simple inquiry means more to you than anything.
Reaching out to grasp your forearm, he peers up at you earnestly. "Hey...talk to me."
You force a smile as your 'brave face' wavers. "Just a shit day. Nothing really."
He pulls a face of his own - a smirk curling the corner of his kissable lips. He's got to stop doing that or you're going to fall head over heels. (Too late).
"Okay, then," he relents, meandering over a few cabinets to where you keep the booze. Jake pours you a drink to settle your nerves, presenting it to you with a comedic flourish, as if you are his liege lord and he's your servant. Eh, probably just a fantasy of yours...
You chuckle, muttering, "thanks," as he brushes past you, disappearing into the living room to turn on the record player. Jake is a mystery, but his collection of albums might be the most sexy thing about him.
Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own.
You toss your drink back in a couple of long gulps, hoping to gain some proverbial liquid courage as Jake returns to his task, reaching for the wooden spoon to stir.
"Thanks for the drink," you say, bravely moving closer, bumping arms with him. "Need some help?"
Setting the spoon back down, he turns a smoldering gaze your way. "Dance with me."
You almost choke. "Wh-what?"
"You heard me." He roughly whispers. Tugging at the string of his apron, he pulls it loose and sets it on the countertop, leaving him in a tight, white t-shirt and joggers which rest on the swell of his hips. Offering his hand, he repeats, "Dance with me."
Your body responds, seemingly without permission from your brain as you take his waiting hand - the contact zinging up your arm, electrifying you. "I-I don't dance."
He hums out a knowing chuckle, eyes sparkling at the challenge. "Everybody can dance, here." Boldly gripping your hand, he eases your arm around his waist, giving you an out before going too far. "Stop me if I fuck this up." He pulls you closer than you expected, his breath ghosting your cheek.
"Jake..."
"Am I getting this wrong?" He asks you seriously, sounding a bit nervous - his voice pinched even as he possessively cinches you closer. "I...want you and I feel like you want me too, but...fuck, if I'm wrong, please don't kick me out."
You can't believe this is truly happening. How is this man actually real - how is he touching you, saying these things? And moreover, why are you not responding?
Afraid you might cry or something humiliating, a breathless laugh rushes out of you, cutting the tension. "I'm not gonna kick you out."
Soulful jazz crescendos, soothing the surge of worries threatening to ruin this moment, and before you can overthink - as you do - you pull him closer. "Come here..."
Your heart stops when he lays his head on your chest, almost causing you to forget to dance, but you realize, in that moment, that you trust his lead. You believe his words - at least your body does, and you sway to the music, moving in synchrony with this man you adore.
And as you wonder if the stars have aligned and you might really have a chance with him, he tilts his head up and presses his mouth to yours.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Jake Lockley-Centric stories
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
updates blog - @ivystoryupdates
Have to include this gif - it inspired me, along with the request
#jake lockley x m!reader#OscarPedroPrideEvent2024#jake lockley#moon knight#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x you#moon knight fanfiction#oscar isaac fic#oscar isaac characters#happy pride#pride fic#thanks for the ask!#📥 inbox#asks#📤 answered#moots#i don't dance fic
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hazbin Hotel Characters as Medical Specialties
Charlie: Pediatrics
You're telling me can't imagine Charlie with Bluey stickers in her pocket and saying "oh I see a dog in your ear. Woof!" When using an otoscope on a child with an ear infection? Be so for real rn
Vaggie: Emergency Medicine
This woman thrives in chaos, she grew up on a battefield. The ED is the Wild West of medicine and Vaggie thrives under the constant stress and variety
Vaggie: "what do you mean you were woodworking while drinking, are you fucking stupid"
Vox: Nephrology
Okay, okay this one is less based in personality and more based in the fact that I need to see a pissing competition between Vox and Alastor (as a cardiologist) about fluid status and renal function
Vox: *decreases lasix dosage in a patient with poor renal function*
Alastor: *punches Vox bc that patient is also fluid overloaded and has heart failure with a reduced ejection fraction*
Velvette: Dermatology
Listen you can't tell me that she didn't have amazing skin when she was alive. I can see her moving more towards the cosmetic side of dermatology with occasional biopsy or Mohs bc who doesn't love a procedure every once in a while
Cherri: ICU/Crit Care
Like Vaggie, Cherrie also thrives in chaos and things in the ICU can go from 0 to 100 in less than a minute. I also feel like she would have pretty good empathy and separation of work and home to be able to not let the job get to her too much
Angel: Psych
This just feels perfect to me, more based on my own experience but everyone I've met in Psych is kind while also being the coolest person you've ever met. I also think Angel would really be able to empathize with his patients based on his own history with addiction. He really likes to listen and offer support and advice.
Alastor: Cardiothoracic surgeon or Cardiologist (to get into a pissing contest with Vox about fluid and sodium)
Look, I know Al is like the perfect surgeon. He's intimidating, meticulous, and calculating. And I don't disagree, I think he would thrive as a CT surgeon...however, there's just something about him arguing with the nephrologist that just gives me the giggles
Lucifer: Internal Medicine
Listen, he's done it all and seen it all. He will spend hours rounding because he just wants to make sure he gets everything right (he's also avoiding going home alone but that's a different story). He also loves working with medical students and will give rousing lectures on first-line antihypertensive and diabetes medications (while also getting all of the students and residents names wrong).
Lute: OBGYN
Listen, I love Lute but if I knew her in real life she would intimidate me so badly. Much like the OBGYN attendings I worked with. She's amazing at her job and beloved by her patients for her blunt yet realistic recommendations, but in her L&D room or operating room, that is her domain and there is no deviation from that. Medical students and residents should exercise caution, but she will teach them the most out of any rotation
Adam: Orthopedics
This man is an ortho bro if I've ever see one. He is the attending who will pimp medical students on the playlist he has playing in the OR instead of the surgery in front of them. (What do you mean you don't know what artist this is? It's the fucking Eagles. Go home and study up, we're playing Led Zepplin tomorrow.)
Niffty: Pathology
Listen I have no explanations for this one. It just felt perfect, tbh
Husk: Anesthesia
This man is like every anesthesiologist I've ever met. He is there stereotype and sits behind the current with his sudoku in hand. Don't let that fool you, this man has knowledge and skill and is not afraid to use. The second your patient starts de-sating or coding, he's the one you wanna listen to
Rosie: Family Medicine
Rosie is the picture-perfect family medicine attending. Kind, empathetic and offers great advice. From cradle to grave, she's got you covered with primary prevention and screening and will be there for you for whatever comes next
Lol this is meant in good fun, so there are a few stereotypes about the different specialties and a lot of it is based on my own experiences on rotations. Let me know what you guys think. I know I missed some characters so let me know if y'all want me to come up with more.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin hotel vox#Hazbin hotel Adam#Hazbin hotel lute#lute#Adam#Velvette#Vox#niffty#hazbin hotel niffty#vaggie#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel rosie#Rosie#hazbin hotel husk#husk#angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#Lucifer#cherri bomb#hazbin hotel cherri bomb#hazbin hotel fandom
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
One of my few disappointments about Bad Batch season 3 when first watching it was how Tech's death and the aftermath is handled - namely, that his death doesn't seem to really have much impact on his family (besides creating some inconvenience when it comes to decryption). I couldn't help but think that if the season had included even just one moment of the squad (more specifically the brothers, not just Omega) actually honoring Tech, it would have not only helped drive home once and for all how important Tech was to them, but also provided some desperately needed closure and catharsis for this clone family that had already suffered so much (and, incidentally, provided some closure for the audience, too). This is especially important considering that the Batch's actions in season 3, especially at the beginning, are likely informed by Omega's capture as much as by Tech's death - and while Omega's rescue should be of utmost importance, it ends up seeming to sideline Tech's sacrifice in the narrative.
After rewatching, my view has shifted slightly, though I still firmly believe the show should have included at least one scene - even if it was at the end of the finale - of the brothers acknowledging Tech's influence and honoring him.
- Echo's story is the least impacted by Tech's death: he wanted to stay in the fight before Tech died, and he did so afterwards. He looks sadly at the empty pilot seat in "Plan 99," and he name drops Tech once in season 3. I can understand Echo having this reaction, though: unlike the other Bad Batch members, he has lost brothers before and therefore likely knows how to adjust more quickly. (You know what would have provided a nice contrast between how Echo and the rest of the squad handles the death? A moment to honor Tech: for example, a scene at any point in season 3 where Echo mentions a memory of him.)
- Hunter's decision to finally retire on Pabu comes before Omega is captured, and therefore must have been determined primarily by the loss of Tech. All through seasons 1 and 2, Hunter's desire to keep his squad and Omega safe eventually evolved to wanting to give Omega a childhood away from fighting and war, but even then he still hedged on settling down permanently on Pabu (see: the discussion between Hunter and Shep in "Turning Point"). It wasn't until after losing Tech that Hunter abruptly made the decision that it was time to stop being soldiers... And given that we never see Hunter actually interact with Tech's goggles in season 3 or mention him by name even once, I'm not convinced Hunter ever really got over the loss of his brother, even as he (very in character for him) focused on more pressing matters by (often recklessly) charging onward to ensure Omega's safety. (You know what would have tied off this plot thread nicely? A moment to honor Tech: for example, a brief scene at the end of the show where Hunter acknowledges that Tech's sacrifice made their life on Pabu possible.)
- Wrecker cries over Tech in the season 2 finale, alludes to him twice and mentions him by name once; and honestly, as little as this is, it is enough to convince me that Wrecker is and always will be grieved by Tech's death but has emotionally processed it and come to terms with it, much like Echo. His development seems to be driven more by being the last man standing between Hunter and a reckless demise, rather than being driven by the loss of Tech specifically, but... nuance. (You know what would have given us a point of comparison regarding how different people process loss in different ways? A moment to honor Tech: for example, maybe Wrecker joins Omega in honoring Tech at the impromptu memorial and insists on his other brothers joining them.)
- Crosshair's redemption in season 3 is largely driven by Omega. Looking back on season 3, I am increasingly convinced that Crosshair felt immense guilt and blamed himself for Tech's death, and therefore he avoided the subject. His "let me go on a suicide mission because I deserve it" speech in the finale only confirms my opinion on this. I guess Crosshair being partially driven by guilt over Tech's loss is one way of showing Tech's impact on his family, but I don't find it a satisfying note to end the show on. (You know what would have concluded this plot point perfectly? ... You already know what I'm going to say.)
#tech shouldn't have been killed off at all#all of them should have survived to the end of the finale#but if star wars is going to kill off a main character midway through a show i do recommend taking notes on how kanan's death was handled#the bad batch#star wars the bad batch#tbb spoilers#tbb season 3#clone force 99#tbb tech#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb crosshair#tbb echo
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sasori x terrified female
They had fought before and she somehow wins. She thinks Sasori dies but in reality he ia angry and wants revange.
tw: noncon, fear play, misogyny, face-fucking, age difference, degradation, hate-fucking, breath play, sadism
All characters depicted are 18+
There are two things Sasori hates; being kept waiting, and losing, much less losing to a little girl around fifteen years his junior. Never in Sasori's nearly fourty years of life has he been "beaten" and. He is mad.
Of course she didn't actually beat him, but she came pretty damn close, and that's more than enough to draw Sasori's ire. Sasori's anger is contained yet clearly visible, his face will still be a mask of indifference, but his eyes will be wide in an unnerving and almost unhinged manner, letting her see just how badly she messed up.
Sasori is easily able to overpower her in her current terrified state, his wooden hands roughly gripping her face as he intensely stares into her eyes in complete silence for what feels like forever, despite his lack of words, he makes it clear with his actions what he plans to do to her.
She's so terrified that she doesn't realize what he's about to do before it's too late, and Sasori's cock is already crammed down her throat, the taste of wood and a man's natural taste fill her mouth as he begins to roughly fuck her face, only speaking to threaten and admonish her, his voice every so slightly strained.
"Idiot. Stupid, stupid girl. Did you think I'd be that easy to beat? Well now I'm about to show you what true defeat tastes like."
Sasori's movements are almost mechanical as he shoves her head up and down his cock, his pelvis roughly smashing against her face with each thrust, he wants her to really taste defeat, and he'll do so by forcing her to choke on his cock over and over again.
He doesn't give her even a second to collect her bearings, pounding her throat at a breakneck pace, the intensity is nearly enough to make her pass out. Feeling especially sadistic and vengeful, Sasori will even pinch her nose shut as he's face-fucking her, getting a sick kick out of how scared she looks whenever he does it.
Sasori doesn't express much emotion on his face, but he can't help the sick grin that breaks out as he restricts her breathing, bringing her to the brink of unconsciousness before deigning to let her breathe again, he'll repeat this process multiple times as he crams his cock down her throat balls deep, getting to control every aspect of the encounter right down to her very breathing.
Once he's done with her, which will be after a long or short while depending on how pissed he is, Sasori will force her to gulp down every drop of his cum, making sure she understands that as punishment for her insolence, he's now going to make her his permanent cumdump.
"Swallow it all down... good. Now, I was going to be merciful and just kill you, but I think I'll keep you as my own personal puppet forever after all you put me through today..."
Sasori isn't lying when he says he'll make her his puppet, because that's exactly what he'll do. Unlike his usual puppets, Sasori will keep her alive as his personal cumdumpster, and she really can't tell if that's better or worse.
#naruto#naruto shippuden#boruto#naruto smut#naruto x reader#akatsuki#headcanon#naruto headcanons#x reader#reader insert#akatsuki smut#akatsuki x reader#sasori#sasori x reader#sasori smut
27 notes
·
View notes
Photo
They settle and the vet rocks them, a hand playing with the braids in Warriors' hair, hums and it's okays getting kissed into his bangs.
hey so carved // hollowed by @quirkle2 made me feel emotions. hello linked universe nation
#SO AJRHBGKAJRHBL#IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR. HOURS#i made 90% of this while on my pain meds so if you see any mistakes no u dont <3#im SO soft for them jay you have NO idea#saw you posted a 20000 word warriors hurt/comfort fic and went OH??????? like a cartoon character#this is the first time ive ever completed a comic page too!!! man. csp frame borders were an Experience#BUT JFSBKLAHBRLAK ANYWAY#THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR FIC WITH THE FANDOM I ATE IT LIKE A BIG BOWL OF WARM SOUP#your warriors literally lands so perfectly into my Circle of Characters That I Deeply Enjoy and i love him :)#i want good things for warriors. he can have some hurt/comfort. as a treat. good for him. thank u op for my life#lu warriors#lu legend#linked universe#also i loved the part in the fic where they go to wars' era and so much of it is just so unwelcoming to him. like....#his house doesnt feel like his. his 'friends' (artemis n impa) dont feel like friends. his people arent his people. not really#and knowing that later down the line he'll be completely disowned and banished really puts it all into perspective that#maybe it was his home once. maybe when he was a child and his mother was still alive to take him by the hand and show him the warm parts#of his era. but she's long gone. and maybe the warmth went with her too. the last of it stored in his scarf.#so he'll have to find that warmth somewhere else. glad that ledge and the others can be that warmth for him. god damn#feeling emotions in this chili's tonight..... im....... Oh My God...... could ramble about this All Night#thank you quirkle :)#this is the first fandom/non oc-related thing ive drawn in years. hallelujah#i am. so tired KARJBGALKJRBLKA#GOOD NIGHT LINKED UNIVERSE NATION#blues draws#maybe that can become a more regularly used tag! perhaps. perchance to dream
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
(´･ᴗ･ ` )
#I really like the “We're the bad guys' enemy” line. For someone I generally despise Dazai has all my favourite lines in this show…#Idk I can't really vibe with the unbalance that there is between s/kk.#Like when push comes to shove‚ Dazai has the power to keep Chuuya alive or let him die.#I understand why they make a compelling dynamic in their complexity‚ but it just doesn't do it for me.#I'm a little sad my opinion on them hasn't really changed since I watched the anime for the first time...#Also; I really can't vibe with Chuuya allowing Dazai to kill Q. Yes I know Chuuya cares about his comrades deeply.#Yes I know it can be interpreted as Chuuya seeing himself in Q as a living weapon and being disgusted by it#(though I honestly don't think that was intentional of the author).#Yes I know Chuuya is a mafioso and kills people. No I don't think your personal issues justify you being a dick to other people I'm sorry.#Back to my main annoyance with the episode: I must have already talked about this but I hate hate hate the narrative#“the mafia works for the city” “the mafia deeply loves the city too” it's so so sickening and insulting please stop I'm begging.#Please visit any actual city with a rooted mafia presence for once in your life (signed: someone whose hometown was destroyed by the mafia.#The writers really don't know what they're talking about and‚ politely‚ it's offensive.)#Also b/sd keeping being extremely nationalist with Mori (who's largely depicted unsimphatetically for the first part of the episode)–#bringing up western thinkers and subtly mocking Fukuzawa for not knowing them–#and Fukuzawa (the righteous man. the noble spirit and just soul in this episode and Mori's antithesis)–#stepping forward to say that he knows strategists from the east (because who else would he need?)#I don't know if it's meant to symbolize the conflict with an hostile and invading foreign power (the Guild).#But it does come across as. A very isolationist way of thinking.#I know it's subtle but it's really evident for me. And I didn't want to talk about this any further…#But by bringing actual examples of this I hope I can better explain why I think that b/sd holds nationalist views–#and that I'm not just making it up out of nowhere. Otherwise I fear I'd only come off as pettily hostile to b/sd in everything#That's it. I feel like I've been losing a lot of mutuals over my main recently due to not shutting up (sorry)#so I suppose it's only fair I lose them on here too pffttt.#Tune in next week for more bad takes#random rambles
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#tw discourse#i’m gonna say an unpopular opinion once and then be on my way again#sometimes i see something on here that makes me upset and then i think#‘i really need to be on here less.’ but then i realize… i rarely use the app as it is#but writers love to say ‘we don’t get paid to write. we are not machines.’ all valid points#bc entitlement is frustrating. bc this is meant to be a community of natural engagement and interaction#i want to specify Natural#bc i see those same writers bash their followers for not like rbing or commenting#as if they are getting paid to follow the author! and that isn’t fair either#writers ask for grace when they are going through writers block or a difficult episode in their life#and our followers cannot ask for the same? sometimes we do not feel like reading. and let’s admit it. not every post will be a banger#and that should be fine too. no one should be guilted to interact with anyone#and i think my whole discomfort with using this site lately is how every interaction is being policed#like do we not assume good intentions anymore? can we not assume that someone is rbing without tags but will put something in later#when they do get a chance to read it? or that they are liking because they want to read it but just dont have the time yet?#anyways. i’ll probably come back to delete this#but man. anyone who follows me. i want you to know that i will do my best to never try and make you feel bad for choosing how to interact#with this blog. outside of not responding to my inbox bc that’s just been difficult for me lately.#please have a comfortable experience and go about this stupid little hellhole in peace#don’t feel coerced to interact with me unless you want to. don’t apologize to me for not having reached out to me in a while#it’s okay. please have your fun in any way you want#i say this bc before being a writer i am a reader
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#i would not have been able to go to Ahmedabad and watch finals so i knew i had to get wankhede tickets if ive to watch live#the only thing thats bugging me is DHONI COMING TO FINALS#like i really want to see that man ONCE IN MY LIFE IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASKKKKKKKK#major fomo#wc 2023
5 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dokidobe
yellow.dr.monv
computertipsandtricksbangla
Welcome to Computer Tips and Tricks
write-produce
Untitled
verasprettycure
Vera's Pretty Cure
tacou
#NotPopularWeedhead