#both are disasters that love each other very much

[menlove]

do you have any girl!mclennon hcs? like how they'd do their hair, how they'd dress, their relationship etc etc

LESBIAN MCLENNON I LOVE YOUUUUU. have a dump. i think about them constantly.

in my mind (at least when they're younger), paul would look like shauna shipman (the character not the actress bc the actress is blonde w blue eyes lmfao) while john i could see being played by rachel sennott

i think i've mentioned this before but paul's first name is definitely mary. pauline is probably her middle name and she just goes by paul. john's harder i've given this thought before but never landed on one, but she still goes by john bc i say so

paul before meeting john is definitely trying to fit into the mold of nice 50s teenage girl- hoop skirts, ponytails, cardigans. when she starts getting more into rock she WANTS to dress differently but doesn't until john talks her into it and then it's leather jackets and drainies still. john just never conformed she wouldn't give a fuck about it

they'd both be in really interesting situations! because paul here is the Oldest Girl after her mom died. so moreso than in real life, the brunt of expectation & household management would get shoved on her, especially with jim out gambling and drinking. similarly, mimi would be driven to insanity with john because she's nowhere NEAR how she thinks she should be and she also sort of sees her as julia 2.0 and she's petrified for her

i think they're probably a lot more physically affectionate bc how casual homophobia between women manifests vs w men is very different, so they're allowed to sort of hang off each other as long as it doesn't Get Weird. and it does certainly get weird with them, they get called dykes more than a few times

i think paul would more readily accept being asked to wear makeup and dress proper again by brian (who is a semi-out lesbian here i can't take away the beautiful homoeroticism of brian & john's relationship) whereas john is gnashing her teeth and throwing the world's biggest fit about it. sometimes paul does her makeup for her though and that's alright.

they start to loosen up with it in '66 and get more androgynous and by pepper's era they're both THRIVING being able to dress androgynously. paul starts getting funky with her makeup around that era too and john just stops wearing it completely

john cuts her hair shorter around revolver era and paul follows suit because they're Mirrors. paul has a twiggy thing going on.

paul also grows her hair out again in the worst most untamed Mess you've ever seen around get back era.

i've had this thought that they've fooled around a bit and john's out in an open industry secret sort of way like. girls would still throw themselves at the girl!beatles i feel this in my soul and i think george and john would be out getting pussy while paul WANTS to be out getting pussy but is holding herself back. but john will Not fuck her like she fucks other girls because this would tip whatever they're doing into Romantic territory like she KNOWS it would be different with paul and this pisses paul off to no end.

of course they DO end up fucking at some point and this makes things worse for everyone involved

paul has a boyfriend who she keeps getting on and off again engaged to (peter asher maybe lmfaoooo in which case... she is lowkey also still fucking jane on the side) and john hates him so so so so bad she wants that man dead and she makes it obvious

yoko is still a woman and her and john do political lesbianism (yoko's straight, john isn't, this is as much as a disaster as anyone would expect it to be) and paul is climbing the fucking WALLS out of how mad the whole thing makes her because it's not HER that john's being openly gay with. not that she'd want to be! but it's the fact that SHE was never ASKED!

linda is also still a woman and this also makes john madder than anyone's ever been because what do you mean paul has been into women romantically this entire time and now she's having a not-so-secret affair with an american photographer and moving to fucking scotland with her? she's losing it.

[bisexualmultifandommess]

So, I made this thing and to me it really fits them lmao

[obstinatecondolement]

Not to be all "this is an Only Murders in the Building blog now" but apparently since yesterday I have reached a point of no longer being satisfied with being part of a two-person fandom irl with my sister and I need to Discuss things with you all.

Anyway. Currently thinking about how Theo Dimas is a) Greek and b) Deaf—both cultures that are very physically demonstrative—and that he is. Like that.

[lesbianaglaya]

revoking people’s right to talk about the tolstoy marriage until they write and turn in to me a ten page essay on complex relationships

[bianquitasunderworld]

dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

[slytherinslut0]

tom riddle. | this is your punishment

PAIRING: tom riddle x fem!reader

SUMMARY: prefect tom riddle catches you breaking the rules again, and this time decides to provide a different type of punishment he’s certain you won’t soon forget.

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, dubcon (entirely consensual), dom!tom, brat!reader, BDSM (light), intense humiliation kink, sexual punishment/ forced orgasm, inappropriate use of magic/spells, clit-stim orgasm, begging.

You had thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes to dance with disaster. Thirty minutes to dodge destruction. Thirty minutes to descend into the depths of the library, infiltrate the restricted section, slip the book on occlumency you clandestinely borrowed back into its rightful place, and ascend back to your dormitory before the harbinger of your nightmares—Head Prefect Tom Riddle—emerges from the prefects' bathroom and winds his way back down to the dungeons.

Thirty minutes felt like both an eternity and a heartbeat. The weight of impending doom pressing down on your chest as you crept through the darkened corridors, each shadow a lurking menace, each creak of the ancient floorboards a deafening scream that could betray your presence.

And though the stakes were disastrously high, you weren't entirely worried; you knew Tom Riddle's schedule as intimately as the lines on your palm, and he was nothing if not a creature of habit. But of course, there was always the chance. The slim, terrifying possibility that he might deviate from his usual routine. And being caught by him was the absolute last thing you needed right now.

Every second felt like a blade poised above your head, ready to drop at the slightest misstep. It was no secret that Tom Riddle had it out for you. By now, it was practically etched into the very stones of Hogwarts, a fact as immutable as gravity. Everywhere you went, every step you took, he was always there—watching, waiting, eager to catch you in some transgression.

The relentless scrutiny was exhausting. The number of detentions you'd served was staggering, the punishments you'd endured endless. Not to mention the droning, entirely condescending lectures and disappointed yet gleeful stares he always made sure to give you as he personally hauled you to Dumbledores office.

It was all bullshit, and certainly had nothing to do with your frequent rule-breaking or constant sneaking around. No, of course not. You most definitely never toed the line. You were as innocent as they come. As pure as the driven snow. In your mind it all boiled down to the fact that Tom Riddle had it out for you, plain and fucking simple. A personal vendetta written into the fabrication of his identity.

Because even if he did. Even if he did somehow manage to track you and uncover your clandestine activities by just being the perceptive cunning bastard that he is, there are certain things that simply defy logic. Some occurrences that just don't add up.

There are just some instances that can't be explained, save for the simplest conclusion: Tom Riddle has been inside your mind for months.

And that was precisely why you sought out the book on Occlumency—you needed it. Needed to learn how to block Tom out because if he wanted to play mind games, you were determined to play better. You were determined to keep up.

You knew Tom took pleasure in continually getting one step ahead of you, and as much as it utterly ticked you off—perhaps a twisted part of you enjoyed being caught by him—savoured the banter you shared including his threats that next time he'd take matters into his own hands, since even Dumbledore was growing tired of your antics. Perhaps you revelled in provoking him, in defying him like no other student dared, relishing the thrill of the chase.

Perhaps you simply loved to hate him. Because he was always so goddamn good at everything, always in control. It was maddening, intoxicating, and you couldn't deny the rush it gave you. His perfection was a thorn in your side, and yet, you craved it, sought it out like a moth to a flame, even if you'd never admit it.

Not to yourself, and most definitely not to him.

As the night droned on, you managed to make it to the library unscathed, slipping into the restricted section unseen. Everything was going according to plan, not a soul around to forsake you. And yet, just as you slipped the book back onto its origin shelf, you heard a distant yet distinct voice, accompanied by the determined clacking of perfectly polished dress shoes.

"—ah, yes. I believe I informed him that I would have an answer by tomorrow evening."

That voice. You could never fucking mistake it.

"—well, yes, Mr.Riddle—but he said—"

"No matter." The footsteps ceased. "You'll both await my determination until tomorrow's eve. Continue pressing and I will see to make you wait two more."

The bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill over onto the floor beneath you. His arrogance had always been a towering monument, casting shadows that seemed to suffocate all reason. Sure, he was the brightest star in the firmament, undeniably brilliant with features rivaling the gods themselves—chiseled jawline, captivating dark eyes—practically born to bask in his own glory.

Yet, for all his outward perfection, his self-assurance bordered on the verge of the grotesque.

"—yes, o-of course, Mr. Riddle..." you stifled a distasteful scoff. You weren't sure how that individual was even standing with such lack of spine. "—t-thank you, sir."

You didn't stick around to hear a response or the lack thereof. The voices were far enough to keep you breathing but close enough to damn near make you faint because you knew he was most likely just outside the iron gates. You couldn't afford to ponder the improbability of his presence or the surrealness of your predicament. You had to move—deeper, further out of sight.

Which was going perfectly well until you rounded a corner with a little too much intensity and collided directly into a small round table. The sharp screech of wood against wood cutting through the thick silence like a blade, echoing ominously in the vast, dim library. Panic seized you, every nerve electrified, as if the table's cry had been your own.

And it was roughly ten devastating seconds after this that you heard the creak of the iron gates opening behind you, and those same polished footsteps drawing forward with haste.

Fucking hell.

You'd spent enough time in the Forbidden Forest to know how to keep your calm, to know how to effectively avoid being noticed—how to silence your footsteps and slip around obstacles without leaving a trace, how to mask your scent with earth and leaves, how to blend into the shadows to avoid becoming prey to the creatures that lurk in the depths. Yet, the only predator you'd never been able to successfully evade was the one you were currently running from.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

A shadow that clung to you, a hunter whose senses were always sharper, whose instincts were always keener. No matter how well you hid, he always seemed to find you, as if he could sense the very beat of your heart.

Tonight—to your naive surprise, was no different.

"Think you can hide from me, do you?" Tom's voice slithered through the narrow gap between the shelves, smooth and dark as midnight. "Not quite stealthy enough, I'm afraid."

You pressed your back against the cold wood, trying to steady your breathing, but his words seemed to wrap around your throat, squeezing the air out of your lungs and replacing it with something dizzying.

"Why don't you come out, little snake?" He purred, his footsteps drawing closer, each one a death knell. "We both know how this game ends."

Little snake. Two words that rooted you to the spot. It was impossible, inconceivable that he could know it was you. Yet the nickname, the venomous familiarity of it, left no room for doubt.

You slipped around the corner, the two of you making calculated moves like chess pieces. Your board was one of evasion, his one of domination. The gates were in clear view now as you paused to determine his position, silently mapping the space between here and there, certain that if you ran fast enough you could make it—if you moved quietly enough he wouldn't know which direction you were heading.

"You're only making this worse for yourself, darling." Arrogance so thick you weren't sure how he wasn't choking on it. And as much as you detested it, something about it sparked heat between your thighs. "You know I always win."

With the desperation of a cornered, wounded animal, you decided you were done playing and began making a silent yet brisk path toward the gates. You knew you could get about three shelves deep before you needed to take cover again. The silence was deafening, urging you to move faster.

And just as you were about to reach your next hiding spot, just about to duck back in between the shelves, a sudden sensation of pressure coiled around your ankle, cementing you to the spot.

"What the f-"

It was as if the very air had turned to iron, suffocating you with its weight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down, disbelief flooding your senses. The once innocuous carpet beneath your feet now glowed with enchantment, its fibres twisting and contorting, snaking around your ankles and climbing steadily up your calves.

"There she is." It was an echo from behind you, deep vocal inflection choking you with its pride. "Always so deliciously predictable.”

The fibres wound tightly around your upper calves, constricting tighter against your leggings as you squirmed, struggling to free yourself. Tom appeared beside you with a leisurely saunter, his smirk so smug it seemed almost tangible.

Your frustration bubbled over into a groan of disbelief. "You charmed the fucking carpet?"

"Of course," Tom replied. "Why do things the hard way when magic can do it for you?" He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over you, drinking in your entirety, running the tip of his wand up your arm. "You should know, little snake, I always find a way to catch my prey."

You watched as two dark eyes dipped low, lingering over the thickness of your thighs, fighting against the tendrils of the enchanted carpet that had now crawled tightly around them. You certainly felt like captured prey, tangled in a web of his making, awaiting his next move—and he certainly didn't miss how tantalizingly prepared for him you were, like a gift waiting to be unravelled.

"Impressive, Riddle—you've really outdone yourself this time," you spat the words through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to smack his wand away, battling the unwanted heat pooling in your core. It was the way he was looking at you. The way you wanted him to keep doing it. "Guess you can add 'carpet tamer' to your long list of accolades now, huh?"

Tom huffed, a glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he forced them up to meet yours. The corners of his lips curled upward in a smirk, every pore radiating control. He looked at you as though you were a puzzle he had already solved, a game he had already won.

"Now now, darling, no need to be so dramatic." His free hand reached up and grasped your jaw, kinking your neck back as he stepped closer to you. "Though, I think 'little fucking brat tamer' might be the more notable achievement to add to the list."

Your stomach leapt, your teeth sinking into your tongue for a moment as you fought to gather your sanity. Your defiance was draining like sand in an hourglass.

"Hm." You huffed, the grip on your jaw firm as steel. "Quite the mouthful."

"So I've been told," he shot back, his eyes glinting like shards of glass under the dim light. "You'd know all about mouthfuls, wouldn't you?"

"You fucking wish." You hoped he did.

His smirk deepened, his fingers digging into your skin like iron claws. You could tell he was amused by you, as though you'd just delivered the punchline of the century, as though you were the world's most revered stand-up comedian. It was maddeningly infuriating and dangerously captivating all at once.

"Still wielding that weapon of a tongue, even when you've so clearly lost." He remarked with a click of his own tongue, releasing his grip on your jaw. Stepping back, his eyes devoured the sight of his spell tangled around your thighs. You caught the tension in his jaw before his eyes snapped back to yours. "Tell me, little snake, do you know why I admire this spell so much?"

Your gaze remained fixed on him, anticipation crawling over your skin like a colony of ants as he scrutinized you. You offer him a shake of your head, a scowl etched deep on your features. "Can't read your mind, Riddle. Not everyone is a skilled Legilimens like yourself."

Tom's chuckle rang out, swallowed by the thick tension in the air, suffusing the oxygen you desperately tried to gulp down. He moved to circle you, and you felt his presence looming behind you, his body brushing against yours like a whisper in the wind. One hand found your hip, however softly, as though he was reluctant to touch you.

"It's a very versatile spell, darling," he dismissed your sass, his voice stripped of all emotion as his lips hovered closer to your ear. "The best part being...I know exactly how to manipulate it to get you to listen."

Words withered on your tongue, attitude wilting in your lungs, and oxygen fleeing from your veins—never to return. Tom's looming presence behind you was enough to make your chest constrict, but his words—his words were a different beast altogether. In the countless times he's caught you, never once did you imagine yourself here, like this, with him.

And never once did you imagine yourself enjoying it this fucking much.

"One might describe it as remarkably adaptable, catering to a multitude of desires..." his hand floated away from your hip, his fingers subtly dancing—the coils responding to his ministrations and slithering higher up your thighs. "And you, little brat, have a plethora of desires at this moment, do you not?"

Your jaw nearly smacked the floor as you watched him command the spell without the aid of his wand. You felt your stomach twist into an iron knot, something heating your blood to flame. Perhaps you underestimated him, perhaps you-

"F-fuck-" you gasped as the charmed fibres slithered between your thighs, coiling higher and higher, wrapping around your waist and ensnaring your arms at your sides. The pressure on your cunt sent your head reeling, your entire body quivering. "Tom...what..."

You know Tom is just beaming with satisfaction, the tremor in your voice eliciting a low growl from deep within him as his hold on your hip resumes, his lips teasing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Speak up, little doll, articulate your thoughts," he murmured, his words dripping with cunning like poison. "I know you possess an abundance of them."

You suppress a groan, squirming in a futile attempt to free your wrists, to move against the relentless hold. The heat of Tom's presence behind you has your senses in a frenzy. Your head spinning, your body silently yearning for more. You despise how much you're enjoying this, whatever this even is.

You whimper, lids fluttering. "This...this isn't fair..."

"Neither is disobeying the rules every fucking chance you get—but here we are," his hand brushed against your thigh, fingertips barely grazing, his voice drifting further from your ear. "You should understand, this is all your own doing...the charm merely responds to your desires, adapting to fulfill them.”

That insufferable bastard. The list of descriptors you'd use to paint his portrait would stretch longer than the very library you're standing in, and then some. Every time you think you've unraveled his mysteries, he unveils another layer that exposes just how brilliantly twisted he truly is. How charming. How intoxicating.

You loathe him, relish in despising every fiber of his being. Yet you can't deny the fact that he outmaneuvered you, in the most tantalizing manner imaginable.

But still, you attempt to deny it. "That's...that's not..."

He muses. "Isn't it?"

Tom withdraws his hand from your thigh, and almost immediately, you ache for its return, the absence of his touch leaving you yearning. Caught off guard by the tendrils of the charm exerting pressure against your core, teasing over your clit, you squeeze your eyes shut, teeth sinking into your lip to stifle any sounds.

"It appears you have a penchant for challenging me..." his voice is a certain murmur. "It seems the charm knows precisely why.”

All the smugness of a deity himself, a walking, talking colossus among mere mortals. As inevitable as the sunrise each morning. It made you want to bare your teeth at him, but instead, all you could manage was a groan, struggling against the pleasure his charm inflicted upon you.

"I'm not quite certain what you would deem a fitting punishment..." he continues, voice as deep as the depths of your desire. As dark as an all encompassing black hole. "—given the countless ones you've endured in the past months, which have clearly taught you nothing."

You groan again, your head bowing as you gaze down at the tendrils of the enchantment, ensnaring you in the clutches of a man with teeth of diamonds, fingers like razor-sharp claws. It'd been a relentless dance of dominance between you for years, a battle of wills that always seems to end in his favor.

You despise how he effortlessly wields his power over you. How he has so easily read between the lines of your story—knowing precisely the effect he has on your body, knowing exactly what you crave.

You fight back a moan. "Mmmff—fuck..you..."

Tom maneuvers his mouth to your ear, his presence pressing against you from behind, the ghost of his breath caresses your skin as he whispers;

"You wish you could."

Beautiful, insufferable bastard.

"Fuck," you huff through gritted teeth, sweat gathering behind your neck, fingernails biting into your palms as you clench your fists, still battling against the overwhelming pleasure. "Get out of my head.."

You feel a low chuckle resonate against your back, its vibrations stirring something primal within you, his fingers grazing against your side.

"Do you truly believe this is mere manipulation, little snake?" Tom's touch begins to ascend, feather-light and elusive, barely registering against your clothes as he presses closer behind you. "I am intimately acquainted with your desires, darling. I've been privy to them for months." You can almost taste the smugness in his voice. "The truth is fairly simple—you crave me, and you despise yourself for it."

Tom takes a deliberate step back, circling around to stand before you, his gaze sweeping over your disheveled form. Your breath comes in rapid gasps, your skin flushed with desire, and you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. You yearn for more of him, yet you resist acknowledging it, even to yourself.

It's as though he can see your thoughts, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in. "You'd go to any lengths to avoid admitting it, wouldn't you?"

"Gods—" he's right, and you hate him for it. “Mmmf.”

Tom hums softly, his lips barely suppressing a smirk as he steps closer to you. He reaches up, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he tilts your chin, compelling you to meet his gaze.

"How about we try a simple question?" His dark eyes bore into yours, their depths ablaze with a devilish glint. "Do you wish it to stop?"

You're rendered speechless. The egotistic side of you wants you to say yes—while the other, larger part is consumed with an insatiable hunger for more, for him. The charm swirls over your clit, applying increased pressure against your leggings, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip again to stifle a desperate moan. You couldn't answer him if you tried.

Tom's eyes roam over your face, not willing to miss a thing. "Use your words...tell me what you need..."

The sensation against your clit intensifies further, as if dancing to the rhythm of his words. You can feel his gaze boring into you as the heat between your thighs surges, and you realize you're on the brink of climax. And Tom knows it.

"Fuck..." your hips twitch involuntarily—torn between craving more friction and fleeing from it—your mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. Tom brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, his gaze fixed on his own movements, and you feel yourself unraveling, succumbing to the scorching intensity of his eyes—two dark pools of permanent ink. "Tom...please..."

His grip tightens. His jaw clenches. "Say it."

Shame courses through your veins, searing your skin like molten lava, the prickling sensation drowning you. You're on the verge of climaxing from an enchanted carpet, a manifestation of his spell, and the humiliation threatens to consume you.

"I need you-" you gasp, the words tumbling from your lips in a pitiful plea, desperation sinking its claws into your soul. So close...too close. "Please—please, I—I don't want to cum from this—I..."

Oh, but you do. You most certainly fucking do though the mere thought of admitting it feels like a dagger twisting in your gut. Tom's eyes glint with amusement, his head cocked slightly as he regards you with a faux expression of pity, as artificial as the plastic plants in the common room.

"I've truly made a mess of you, haven't I?" His hand glides down from your face, tracing a path along your neck, lightly grazing over your collarbone. "Tell me what you want from me."

Gods, you ache to strike him—yet crave to kiss him and cry out his name with equal fervour. Your defiance lies shattered, a broken relic at your feet.

You peer up at him, pleading. "Please, Tom, please touch me—I need you..."

A smirk toys at his lips, his fingers slipping under your jaw once more to hold you steady as he leans in closer.

"Touch you?" His voice is like a loaded gun, his fingers the bullets—intent cocked and ready to annihilate, but instead he taunts you, keeps you on edge, pressing the barrel against your temple just to see the look in your eyes. "You want me, the man you so madly fucking detest, to touch you."

You lack the strength to command him to go to hell, but oh, how you wish you did. Just to witness his reaction, to see what he’d do next. Despite his appalling self-assurance, you can see behind the mask—see how he is genuinely taken aback by your submission, as though he never expected you to surrender, to confess your desire for him.

"Tom, please..." you beg, trembling with anticipation, your impending climax a rapidly swelling tide. "I want you...I want you to make me cum—you-you win."

Tom pulls back from your ear to regard you, his gaze fully focused this time. He takes in the sight of you—trembling, panting, wide-eyed before him—his expression conveying complete contentment in simply observing you as you struggle to persuade him to touch you.

That familiar taunting grin lingers upon his lips, uncontainable, and you know he's relishing this moment far too much.

"I know," he says softly, his thumb tracing your jawline as his hand falls to your neck. "I always do, don't I, little doll..."

His voice drifts over you like smoke, thick and intoxicating, wrapping around you in a dizzying embrace. The intensity of the charm wavers slightly, granting you a momentary reprieve to catch your breath as Tom leans in, so close that you can feel his exhales caressing your lips. Your head spins, every sense overwhelmed by his presence.

"But you deserve this—" he continues, his voice a rumble like thunder through your veins. "—you deserve to be humiliated like this, to break for me without my hands ever touching you." His mouth hovers just millimeters from yours, taunting you with its nearness. "This is your punishment, little doll...and you're going to take it."

The pleasure between your thighs swells once more as the charm resumes its sinuous movements and you can't suppress the moan that escapes your lips, mingling with the groan of utter frustration. All you can do is stare at him.

Tom hums, amused. "Because you revel in it, don't you? Being a little disobedient brat..."

Your eyes glaze over, your pulse soaring as Tom's breath once again brushes against your parted lips. The ache for him is almost unbearable, as if he's injected something into your veins, rendering you unable to function without him. It's maddening, in the most exquisite way imaginable.

"You're-ohh-fuck.." your voice comes out as a moan, low and breathy, the words trailing off as the charm adds pressure to your clit, stars dancing at the edges of your vision. "Gods..."

"There we go, just as I like you,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing over your jaw. "Unable to unleash that pretty little mouth. Perfectly shattered for me."

You clench around nothing, yearning to scoff. "Mmmf—never..."

Tom chuckles at your feeble attempt at defiance, though the sound carries a hollow, half-hearted quality. You both know you've passed the point of return. His fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, until his palm cradles your face, his thumb brushing gently across your lips.

"Is that so?" He murmurs softly, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Well then, go ahead...let that pretty mouth run wild...prove that your defiance is more than just an act..."

The way he wields his power has you teetering on the brink of madness, and you despise the fact that you've revelled in every torturous moment of it. You long to snap back, to wield your tongue, to curse him—anything to grasp onto even a shred of control. But every fucking word is a struggle, every moment not focused on your breathing is an achievement.

You squeeze your eyes shut, channeling all the energy you have left. "You...you're such an...arrogant—mmf—I...I hate you..."

"Mhm. You hate me." He cooes. "And yet, here you are..." his voice is as soft as feathers, as warm as the morning sun, the unmistakable taunt laced within. His thumb presses against your bottom lip, slipping between your teeth. "...falling apart for a mere spell, begging for me, for my touch..."

You feel Tom's thumb pressing against your tongue as you whimper. You attempt to speak, to convey something, but instead, you find yourself instinctively sucking lightly against his thumb in response.

"Mm." Tom's brow lifts slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. He seems pleased with your reaction. "A much better use for that mouth."

You're beyond caring about the way he's taunting you, how he's systematically humiliated and debased you, stripping away every ounce of defiance without ever even touching your skin. Tremors wrack your body from the overwhelming sensations, rendering coherent thought nearly impossible.

Your head lolls to the side, constrained by his hand, as waves of pleasure crash over you, your climax approaching rapidly and dangerously.

"Fuck-I'm..." you manage to squeak, his thumb still nestled in your mouth. "Mmmf-"

Tom's eyes darken with satisfaction as he watches you unravel, his thumb pressing deeper into your mouth, a silent command for you to keep sucking. The enchantment continues its relentless assault—tightening around you, swirling over your clit and amplifying the pleasure until it's almost unbearable.

"Go on," he murmurs, his voice a blend of silk and steel. "Let go for me. Show me just how much you need this."

Your body trembles violently, your muscles tensing as the climax rips through you. You can't hold back the moan that escapes around his thumb, your entire being consumed by the intensity of the release that you've desperately fought off for so long. Tom's grip on your jaw tightens, keeping you in place, ensuring you can't escape the exquisite torment he's orchestrated.

"There it is," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Perfectly broken, just for me."

Your eyes are squeezed shut so tightly it's almost painful, his thumb buried in your mouth muffling any sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape. The evidence of your desire pools between your thighs, your embarrassment stripping you raw as you slowly begin to return to reality, the spell gradually losing its grip around you.

You struggle to find your breath, your thoughts, your sanity, but Tom doesn't grant you much reprieve before he's tugging your head back towards his, forcing you to focus on him.

"You should see yourself." He withdraws his thumb from your mouth, trailing the remnants of saliva over your cheek as he assesses you. "You're a vision."

You try to summon the strength to argue, to reclaim some semblance of defiance, but the attempt dies in your throat, unable to comprehend the fact that those words sounded like a fucking compliment. Your body is trembling with the aftershocks of your climax, and you can only manage a soft whimper. He looks at you as if you are his masterpiece, perfectly crafted and beautifully ruined.

"Remember this, little snake," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Remember how easily I can break you. How much you crave it."

You exhale slowly as you feel the charm dissipate, the carpet settling back into its rightful place at your feet. Tom's hand falls away from your face, but the tension between you remains palpable, neither of you daring to make a move.

"And as for the book," he adds, his eyes flashing to the bookshelf behind you, the one home to the Occlumency text you borrowed. "You may want to keep it. You're not nearly as skilled as you think you are."

And with that, he smooths out his uniform and strides past you without a second glance.

thank you to my babies @doremimosasol and @pizzaapeteer for proofreading this. means the world to me🖤

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

[thehauntedetheral]

hi,can you make a yandere actor with a reader that is not famous, he is really pretty and the reader starts to suffer atacks for not being "pretty enough for him", she is already insecure and wants to break up but he is too much in love and obsessed with her for let it that happenss so he goes on public to stop the attacks, but he ends up saying things like, if she asks him he would abandon his career in a second and other stuffs and even the public realizes his obssesion.

Yandere Actor

Requests are open !

• Yan is a superstar. Crazy fans, blockbuster movies, critic's favourite, handsome, Money, Fame, Glory he have everything. He is the definition of boys want to be him and girls wanting to be with him.

• But what he didn't have was a person to call his love, his home. Many times when he is alone he craves it more than anything.

• People around him were so fake and greedy that he has given up on the idea to ever find his person.

• Until one day he meets you. You were the supporting actress of his new project. You were not a famous actress but a underrated one.

• You and yan had very few scenes together in the film so very rarely he would see you be sets while filming his scenes.

• He loved how you were so passionate for your work. How you are still underrated and unrecognised is still beyond him.

• Whenever he saw you on set his mood would automatically cheer up. You were like a ray of light. Bright and warm according to him.

• He would often come to set early than his scheduled time just to get a glimpse of you.

• Intentionally would ask you questions about some scenes written in the script when he understood everything he just wanted a reason to talk to you, to hear your voice.

• His day started with waking up and your thoughts filling his mind and ended with seeing dreams about you in his sleep.

• After the filming got over and the whole crew was celebrating at a restaurant. He asked you out on date.

• At first you thought he was pranking with you. Because you were not beautiful or famous like the other actresses he work with.

• Even after you politely saying no to him due to your low self esteem issue. He kept asking you for a chance. Finally you gave in.

• Slowly you two were growing closer to each other going on dates secretly, texting, video calling each other on sets, spending quality time together and much more.

• You both were dating secretly. As you didn't wanted a controversy before the release of film because the public were crazy for the couple of yan and the another actress of the movie that was about to release. People shipped them two like crazy, praying they become couple in real life and if they got to know you were dating yan it would be a recipe for disaster and hate for you. So yes you decided to date secretly even though yan wants to scream at the top of his lung and tell to the whole world that you are his girlfriend.

• The thing you feared the most happened. Some paparazzi clicked photos of you and yan in a private restaurant eating together and kissing.

• Now it was all over the media. The shippers of the yan and another actress were spreading hate for you on internet. Yan fan's were heartbroken that he was dating an non famous actress with an average looking face.

"eww why is he even dating her???? she looks so ugly and has no fashion sense"

"Yan is so handsome he can get anyone why her?"

"She is the reason between yan and other actress not being couple god I hate her"

"Please yan come to your senses and leave that ugly looking stick"

"Yan you deserve better"

"Yan and other actress are meant to be together not this ugly actress who no one knows about"

"She is just using him to get fame. After all she became famous now after dating him no one knew about her before"

• Seeing all this hate comment it made you cry and think that yan deserves someone like him famous and beautiful not you who people don't even know about and is average looking.

• Seeing you cry breaks yan's heart. He can't see you his angel, his light crying. He takes you in his arms holding your face delicately in his hands and wiping your tears.

"Baby for me you are the most beautiful women on this earth. They don't deserve you hell even I don't deserve you but I will always try till my last breath to prove how greatful I am to have you. You are beautiful inside out. You are smart, funny, kind , you are the girl of my dreams, my future wife, and future mother of our children. All those people are fools, love. Even if all of them combined together they still won't be able to hold a candle to your beauty and personality. Even the moon's beauty fade infront of you my darling. Don't believe those fools" yan said kissing you making you a bit smile.

"Take some rest,darling. You must have been exhausted by crying for this stupid people." He says and cuddle you to sleep. After making sure that you have fallen into deep slumber he leaves quietly to make all this people pay for hurting you.

• He hires a famous expensive lawyer and comments on social media "Whoever will say or comment any bad about my girlfriend I will sue them and drag their ass to court. So think before you do anything."

• His lawyer is already in process to sue everyone on internet for trolling you.

• In all his promotions and interviews he would constantly talk about you and tell how lucky he is to have her and that you are perfect.

• He also warns every one that if someone even looks at you in a wrong way he would personally handle them. ( Meaning dragging that person to an abandoned place and beating them until the person says that y/n is the best)

• Whenever you two were out together he would wrap his arms all around your body embracing you to protect from paparazzi.

• One time a paparazzi harassed you and pushed you making you fall down while taking photos and asking questions. The next day that paparazzi is tied and in Yan's basement.

• Everyone were shocked with how much yan is obsessed with you. In an interview he even said that "He would leave his successful career and move to another country for you".

• He even planned the move away but you put a stop on it.

• This man would even leave the world for you if you want. He just loves you too much that it makes him hard to breathe just thinking about you leaving him.

• He is so obsessed with you that now people were scared to even approach or say something about you.

• This man made sure that no one I repeat no one ever say bad about you. Ever. After all you are his darling. He won't let anyone hurt you.

For more yandere reading:

[halfmoonaria]

superstar

pairing: jenna ortega & reader

summary: you're a singer, and jenna thinks you're a superstar

word count: 1.6k

Jenna had always been adamant in interviews and podcasts that she wasn't looking for a partner.

The notion of opening herself up to someone, of sharing her most intimate and vulnerable sides, was terrifying to her.

She'd often say that the industry was already a whirlwind, and adding a relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster.

Her words resonated with a certain conviction, leaving fans and followers convinced that Jenna was dedicated solely to her career and personal growth.

Hence, when news broke that Jenna had met someone, the world was taken aback.

And her family, who had long accepted her stance on relationships, were particularly stunned.

What made it even more astonishing was that her partner was not just anyone but a singer. The very idea seemed to clash with everything Jenna had previously expressed.

If anyone had expected Jenna to find love, it would have been with someone far removed from the spotlight, someone who could offer a grounding presence amidst the chaos of fame.

Yet, there she was, completely enchanted by you, whose life was as much in the public eye as hers.

Your talent and passion had pierced through Jenna's carefully constructed walls, revealing a side of her that no one had ever seen.

It was an unexpected connection, but it was real, and it transformed Jenna in ways she had never imagined possible.

You were her age, having started singing at a tender age, your voice a gift that quickly became your solace.

From the early days of strumming a guitar in your bedroom to performing on small stages, your journey was one of both talent and resilience.

Your songs were deeply personal, often touching on themes of mental health, a reflection of your own struggles since your teenage years. The raw honesty in your lyrics resonated with many, turning your pain into a source of comfort for others.

Jenna admired you not just for your musical prowess but for your courage.

In a world where vulnerability was often masked, you stood as a beacon of authenticity. You spoke openly about your battles with anxiety and depression, both in your music and in interviews.

Your willingness to share your story in hopes of helping others, struck a chord with Jenna.

She saw in you a kindred spirit, someone who navigated the complexities of fame with a heart wide open, unafraid to show the scars that came with it.

The openness, the fearless confrontation of your inner demons, was what drew Jenna to you.

It was no surprise that the two of you had found each other, you were both well looking and had surprisingly more similarities than anybody would thought.

Your fame had skyrocketed over the years, just like hers had.

Sold-out arenas, chart-topping albums, and countless awards had become part of your daily reality.

You were recognized wherever you went, your face gracing the covers of magazines and your name trending on social media.

Just like Jenna; two of the biggest stars in the entertainment industry to end up together was something nobody had expected.

Despite your immense popularity, you remained grounded, always remembering the humble beginnings that shaped you.

The magnitude of your success was undeniable.

Fans across the globe found solace in your music, drawn to the sincerity of your lyrics and the powerful way you connected with your audience.

Your concerts were not just performances but communal experiences where people came together, united by the themes of your songs.

Interviews and talk shows frequently featured you, not only to discuss your latest projects but to delve into the deeper conversations about mental health that you championed.

Jenna couldn't help but be captivated by how you balanced the pressures of fame with an unwavering commitment.

It was this genuine openness, this ability to remain true to yourself amidst the chaos of fame, that drew Jenna to you like a magnet.

Despite your hectic schedules and the constant media attention, your relationship flourished in the quiet moments away from the spotlight.

There were times you often found yourself on set with her, quietly supporting her through long days of filming.

Whether it was bringing her coffee during early morning shoots or simply being there to listen during breaks, you made sure she knew you were always by her.

Likewise, Jenna joined you on tour, even if just few times. Those moments were rare but cherished, her presence bringing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of your busy life on the road.

She would watch from the wings as you performed, a proud smile on her face, supporting you in the way only she could.

At home, the connection between you two deepened in ways Jenna never had anticipated.

There were nights when she'd sit on the edge of the bed or curl up on the couch, watching you play your guitar and sing just for her.

The closeness of those moments, your voice soft and full of emotion, always sent a thrill through her.

More than once, she'd found herself unable to resist you, her desire building until she was straddling your lap, the vibrations of your music moving through her.

Which had ended up in her getting off on your thigh multiple times as you played, your voice serenading her into bliss.

Jenna loved you in a way she'd never loved anyone before. You were everything she didn't know she needed, the only person who truly understood her.

She often marveled at the thought that you were all hers, unable to fully grasp how someone as incredible as you had chosen her.

Whether you were strumming a guitar at home or belting out lyrics on stage, you captivated her completely.

You were the only one she wanted, the only one who made her feel this intensely.

When you performed was when all of those thoughts overflowed.

On stage, you were magnetic, your voice powerful and sultry, sending shivers down her spine. And when you danced, it was as if the music lived in your body, every movement fluid and mesmerizing.

Jenna couldn't take her eyes off you.

She adored the outfits you wore—revealing pieces that clung to your body, accentuating every curve.

She understood why you chose them; the heat from the lights and the crowd demanded something breathable, but there was no denying the allure they added to your presence.

She found your voice captivating, sexy almost, whether it was the soft croon she heard at home or the commanding, electrifying sound that filled arenas.

Each note you sang and every step you took drew her in deeper, reminding her that despite all the eyes on you, you were hers alone.

Jenna admired you fiercely. Every time she watched you perform, she fell a little more in love, unable to understand how she was lucky enough to have you.

The way you owned the stage, the way your voice and dancing wrapped around her heart, left her breathless.

She loved watching you perform. For reasons that went beyond the obvious.

It wasn't just for the music or the energy of the crowd. There was something deeper, more personal, in the way she observed you on stage.

How deeply you connected with your audience, but even more so by how much of yourself you gave in each performance.

She knew every movement, every note came from a place that only understood. And that knowledge made it all more thrilling.

But what really drove her wild was what came after.

The sex afterwards was incredible.

You'd come of stage, still pulsing with the energy of the performance, and she could feel the heat radiating off you.

The way you'd pull her close, your hands exploring as if you couldn't wait another second. Your touch demanding and urgent, made her knees weak.

Those nights, when you were still on fire from the adrenaline, were her favorite.

If something hadn't gone the way you wanted; a missed note, a technical glitch, or someone who'd pissed you off backstage — Jenna knew she was in for it.

You'd take that frustration and channel it directly into her, the way you'd push her against the wall, not wasting a second, your intensity making her shiver with anticipation.

She craved those moments, the way your hands would be rougher, your kisses hungrier. The way you'd take control, leaving her breathless and utterly consumed by you.

Jenna loved every second of it, the raw unapologetic need that you unleashed after a show.

It was the side of you that only she got to experience, and it was addictive.

After every show, after the adrenaline had faded and the passion between you two had cooled to a gentle warmth, it was the quiet moments that Jenna cherished the most.

Lying in bed together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, she would trace the lines of your face, marveling at how someone so fierce on stage could be so tender with her.

It was in those moments that she realized just how much she loved you—not just for the superstar the world saw, but for the person you were when it was just the two of you.

No matter how hectic your lives became, no matter the miles between sets and stages, the connection you shared remained unshakeable.

You both had your own worlds, your own battles to fight, but in each other, you found a refuge, a place where you could be completely yourselves.

And as she drifted off to sleep beside you, Jenna knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, nothing could change the way she felt.

You were a star, but more importantly, you were her star, and she wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

[cherryredstars]

Hi cherry! First of all thank you for your work, your writing has permanently altered my brain chemistry 😳😳 I was wondering if u could write something where Miguel and his ex reunite after a bad breakup, perhaps a few months after (maybe they bump into each other during a party or smth) and as they finally talk both admit that they never managed to move on (like reader went on a few unsuccessful dates, since shes still obsessed with Miguel it has been pointless) they are still in love and they want to make it work this time!!! And since they are back together reader is rlly needy and touchstarved 🥴🥴 she missed him so so much and all,,,,

thx again for feeding my miguel’s hyperfixation!! you are one of my fave authors here ❤️❤️ you deserve the world!!

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, Squirting

A/N: Hello and thank you, love 🫶🏼! Enjoy!!

Unedited

Well, this was another disaster.

You’re practically moping at your reflection in the bar’s bathroom. You’ve been hiding in there for more than ten minutes, but you would be surprised if your date- even if he’s not worthy of the small title- has even noticed your absence.

The whole night had been a disaster, right from the very start. Not only had your date been twenty minutes late, but he also failed to so much as greet you for more than 5 seconds before ordering himself a beer and turning his eyes to the small bar TV to watch the old sports rerun from the night before. You would cringe when he loudly reacted to the events on the screen as if it were happening in real time, making the people around you turn to him with perplexed and judgmental looks that made you want to crawl under the bar and out the door. Your attempts to distract him from the game with small talk only turned to him giving half-assed information about himself and him asking if you’re covering the tab for his beers.

What a stellar experience!

You stall in the bathroom a bit longer by being extra delicate in your lip reapplication, all the while whining to yourself in your head about how you could have saved your outfit for a better occasion. With another sigh and a planned excuse to end the night early, you hype yourself up to leave the bathroom and return to your date.

When you open the door, you almost stumble into someone’s chest. You blink in surprise, an apology forming on your lips as you slowly lift your head up. The words instantly shrivel up and die when you meet familiar red tinted eyes, the air in your lungs suspending.

Miguel, sporting his usual grumpy look, instantly softens as he meets your eyes. He seems to take you in, like your the first sign of water since taking a cruel journey through the desert. The look alone is enough for your heart to go into overdrive

Despite the sudden dryness in your throat, you manage a small smile, “Hi.”

The one word is soft, almost tentative. It makes something in Miguel crave more. He’s been wanting more the moment the two of you broke up, the reason stupid after a few months apart.

He returns the smile, hands going to his pockets to fight off the temptation to grab you and never let you go, “Hi, I like the dress.”

Your eyes instantly fall down to take in your outfit, cheeks blazing from the compliment. Your fingers play with the hem of the skirt, a bashful thank you bubbling from your lips. It makes Miguel’s smile just slightly larger as your eyes hesitantly meet his again.

A silence fills the space, both of you caught up on things you could- should- say to each other. The silence begins to grow awkward, and Miguel finds it to be the perfect opportunity to slowly reach his hand out.

He means to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but the pounding in his chest makes him miscalculate slightly and instead skims the apple of your cheek. The touch shoots rapid jolts of electricity down your spine, awakening your nerves from a long hibernation. Your hand desperately grabs at his wrist, trying to keep his hand in place. Then suddenly, everything is fast forwarded.

Your lips crash together in a hungry, desperate urge to be closer. Your bodies pushing against each other until your smaller body is pushed back through the bathroom door, the lock faintly clicking behind the two of you as you’re lifted up and placed onto the counter. Your hands exploring inches of skin that you still know like it’s your own. Refamilarising yourself with every bulge of muscle and every dip.

Despite the vicious need to have you naked against him, for your skin to press against his and swap a cycle of warmth, Miguel grits his teeth and restrains for ripping clothes off of your body. This place is filthy, and he doesn’t want to tarnish your skin. Instead, his hand slips under the hem of your dress, pressing into the soaked spot growing in the fabric of your panties.

Your body bristles from the contact, your sex burning hot and throbbing. You squirm, your body already begging for more. Miguel reads you instantly, slipping his fingers under the fabric until he grazes your twitchy clit and reaches your leaking hole. He circles his fingers around the wet entrance, lubricating his fingers with your arousal before slowly pushing them in.

A low whine escapes you, your walls clamping down hard around his fingers. Miguel hisses at the vice grip you have on him, his thumb attempting to relax you by circling your clit. It makes you whine more, practically squirming on his hand.

Miguel buries his face into your neck, kissing and sucking at the column of skin, “Fuck baby, you’re so sensitive.”

You can only sniffle in response, your mind zeroing in on the slow curling of Miguel’s fingers. Your eyes are half lidded and hazy, small moans leaving your lips as the tips of his fingers press into the gummy spot inside of you. The pleasure grows quickly, pent up sexual frustration from dates you wouldn’t even let into your home and late nights at work to distract yourself from the ache in your heart unleashing and flowing down Miguel’s wrist.

With a combination of thrusting and curling, your body spasms with a choked moan as you collapse against him. He can feel the gush of your release spray against his hand, creating wet squelches as he continues to work you through it. Clear drops landing on the counter eventually begin to form a small puddle under you as your panties become completely soaked through.

You’re fighting for breath once you come down from your high, mind foggy and stuck in a state of bliss. Miguel slowly pulls his fingers out, his entire palm soaked with clear arousal. A stray drop runs down his arm, and he’s quick to catch it with his tongue. He almost comes in his pants as the sweet taste explodes in his mouth, making him hungry for more. He fights the urge for now, promising himself it’ll come with time before grabbing napkins from the dispenser and cleaning the inside of your thighs and the puddle under you.

He slowly pulls your soaked underwear down, recognizing the flash of discomfort that comes over your face as you come back to earth, stuffing the fabric in his pocket before helping you down onto your shaky feet. You hold onto his arm tightly feeling as if you’re trying to balance on jello, and Miguel wraps an arm around your waist to stabilize you. Your breath is still slightly irregular, and you take the moment to close your eyes and lean your head against his chest. You can hear the pace of his heart, not a bit surprised that it mimics yours.

“Come home with me.”

You smile into his chest, humming.

Like he even had to ask.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 8

Part 7

Shockingly, it turns out Danny knows how to cook. He's good at it, even, and when Tucker expresses his disbelief at the practiced way Danny moves in the kitchen Danny snorts.

“You know what the Fenton kitchen was like. When I got out of there and had access to food and kitchens that weren't biohazards, I learned eventually. I have a very distinct appreciation for good food nowadays, and I like being able to make it myself.”

He puts music on through a little Bluetooth speaker on the counter, invites them to participate, and they cook.

It's fun. They dance, they drink, they sample ingredients as they put their pizzas together. There's a minor flour war that sets off rounds of giggling and shrieking - more importantly it makes Danny cackle in a way she used to love and hasn't gotten to hear since they were teens.

It's exactly the same, and she missed it. Pure impish delight and mischief.

For as many things that are the same, there are ones that have changed.

Danny has a grace to him now that he didn't used to, and he moves near silently. He sways easily and elegantly to the music without thinking about it as they talk and make mischief with each other.

The oven and the adjusted thermostat make it much more comfortable in the apartment after a while, but Danny doesn't shed the pullover sweater he wears at any point. He didn't even roll the sleeves up to cook.

Come to think of it, when they entered high school he started doing that too. He wore long sleeves even in the summer - Sam tries not to think about abusive households or self harm. She hopes it's not that, but…

She puts the thoughts aside as well as she can.

Tucker had mentioned it before to her, but with all the grinning and laughing tonight Sam can see that he was right and Danny's teeth are sharper than she remembers. All four canine teeth are almost startlingly pointy.

She doesn't mention it. What she does mention is the apartment.

“This is a really nice place, Danny. You got a secret sugar daddy you haven't told us about?”

Tucker gapes at her and smacks her arm. Danny bluescreens for a moment before he snorts an ugly laugh and descends into near hysterics.

“Oh my God! Ancients, no! No, no sugar daddy. Just a well paying engineering gig lately, and some money I saved up before I left Amity. Holy shit, Sam.”

She shrugs, some tension she didn't know she was carrying leaving her shoulders. “Had to ask. Would have had a shovel talk to deliver.”

Danny starts laughing again, and Tucker groans and puts his head in his hands.

“I cannot believe you actually just asked him that,” Tucker moans.

“I can,” Danny responds with a chipper grin, Tucker's answering snort overlaid by the ding of the oven timer.

Danny knocks back the rest of his drink and waves in the vague direction of the living room area.

“I'll take this out and cut it. Go sit and we can eat it around the coffee table in case we want to watch a movie or something?”

The sitting area is spacious and comfortable, couches black leather. There's a heavy, fluffy white throw over the back of one that looks soft as all get out, but she and Tuck quickly decide to settle on the floor.

The coffee table is low enough that it's more convenient for reaching food and drinks set on it.

Tucker whistles appreciatively at the TV, so it must be a cutting edge new model. Fucking nerd.

Danny trots over not long after with two serving boards balanced precariously on one arm, his refilled sangria in one hand, the pitcher of sangria in the other and another beer held against his side by an awkward elbow.

Tucker and Sam both shoot to their feet to try and mitigate a disaster, but miraculously it all makes it to the table unharmed.

“It's almost like you guys don't trust me,” Danny pouts, his grin ruining it. “Careful, it's hot.”

“You are a perpetual accident waiting to happen,” Sam tells him scathingly, and he snorts with a peculiar look on his face.

“You don't know the half of it.”

As they all reach for slices of pizza, Danny takes them by surprise by taking a piece of Sam's, not Tucker's.

Tucker gapes at him. “Dude. Tell me you haven't betrayed me like that.”

Danny snorts, shoulders shaking with quiet chuckles. “Nah, I still eat meat. It's just sometimes I have spells where it kind of bothers me and I feel a little sick about it? I'm in one of those lately, but usually I'm still a huge burger and steak guy. Don't worry.”

“Huh. That's weird.”

Danny shrugs, taking a bite of his pizza despite his own warnings and cringing when it burns his mouth.

“Been like that since high school, actually. Used to be worse then,” he mumbles through his attempts to cool a mouthful of molten cheese.

Sam doesn't remember him ever having issues with it in middle school. She wonders what happened to change his outlook, but puts it aside. They're here to hang out and catch up. Have a good time. Not interrogate Danny.

They end up spending hours watching trashy TV and heckling the screen, making small talk and letting each other in on bits of their lives all the while. Everyone's well on their way to tipsy by the time they're done eating, though Danny a little more than Sam and Tuck.

He's loose-limbed and happy, sprawled across both of them in the haphazard pile they've ended up in. He seems incredibly content, and it does Sam's heart good to see him so relaxed.

She and Tucker are sitting with their backs against the couch, Danny's legs slung across Tucker's lap and head in Sam's. It's probably why he notices her shiver a little - it's still a little chilly in the apartment.

Lazily, he points up at the back of the couch. “You can pull that down and cover us if you want. It's really warm.”

Sam offers him a quiet thanks and reaches up to do just that, though she's startled to find that though the top is fluffy, the underside of what she'd thought was a throw is velvety and smooth. Like hide.

It's a real fur - hopefully ethically sourced. Decorated too, there are ornaments threaded into the corners and dangling that she can't pin the origin of. They're very pretty, shells and claws and beads.

As she pulls it down, she flips the edge up to peek at the underside and is startled to find the skin a distinct, familiar ectoplasmic green.

“Um. Danny. What kind of fur is this…?”

“Yeti,” Danny replies offhandedly, sipping his drink before freezing like the question and his own answer just caught up to him. “Uh.”

Masterpost

[grandline-fics]

Hi can i request a Luffy x fem!reader where the pair are just two dumb idiots together like the reader has a personality like his (overly enthusiastic and optimistic) and they do everything together but they both dont realize that the like eachither (bc again dumb idiots) and the crew works tgt to make them both realize and get them to confess to eachother?

DESCRIPTION: You’re just as clueless as Luffy and the crew have to intervene to make you both realise your feelings

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,734

A/N:  Thank you for this request. I honestly didn't know how to make this work in the beginning but I'm happy with how this fell into place. Hopefully you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Once upon a time the Strawhat crew believed that their Captain was one of a kind. They took his energetic nature, clear motivation to only do what he wanted as his current mood directed without any thought beyond that, stubbornness, and still unwavering joy in the face of most things as the concoction that could only be Luffy. However they were all collectively shocked when you crash landed into their lives and promptly made them realise that everything that made Luffy his loveable yet exhausting self was also very clearly what made you you too and when you and Luffy first interacted it was like two points finally connecting, never to separate. 

All their adventures before you came along seemed like such a breeze, how naive they had been in those days to consider it difficult to keep up with Luffy’s optimism and spontaneity. After you joined the crew if felt like double the work. It didn’t matter if they had eyes on one of the chaotic pair you two created because without the vigilant supervision over both of you, it only assured a disaster that could have been avoided. It never mattered to you or Luffy because at the end of the day you two would be laughing and telling the drained crew that it had worked out in the end and that there had been nothing to worry about. After a while it wasn’t the lack of thought to the crew and their wants of an easy time on an island to explore that frustrated them, it was the fact that you and Luffy still hadn’t realised you had feelings for each other and continued to act like oblivious morons every single day while also so clearly showing them and anyone else you interacted that you were two idiots in love. 

“They’re doing it on purpose.” Nami muttered one day, arms folded tightly across her chest as she glared at you and Luffy running about the deck of the Sunny, laughing and chasing Chopper without a care in the world. Suddenly Luffy grabbed one of the masts and propelled himself through the air. Chopped managed to dodge but you ended up being the one Luffy tackled loudly onto the ground. There was a beat of silence before the two of you burst out into loud laughter once more, doing nothing to move out of the position you were currently in. “They have to be doing it on purpose. They’re evil geniuses.”

“Don’t give them so much credit. They’re both just blind to how they really feel.” Zoro disagreed from his spot in the shade, opening his good eye to look you and Luffy’s way. “Don’t know how many times the stupid cook and I have brought it up. Luffy just believes he loves them the same way he loves us as his crew.”

“Oh no, that’s a very different kind of love compared to what he feels for us.” Usopp said with a small shake of his head. He supposed that the only reason this whole matter hadn’t been resolved yet was because of your personality. Anyone else would have been more aware of the difference and clear feelings and actually talked things out with their Captain. Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of exhaustion and resignation. All of them wishing-more for their own selfish peace of mind more than anything- there was something to be done and help you both realise your feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later that the crew stopped at a new island to relax and enjoy while they waited for the Log Pose to set. While some took to resupplying the ships, others took to exploring. You weren’t exactly annoyed that you hadn’t gone with Luffy, you were just confused at why Usopp and Nami insisted on you joining them on their shopping trip and no one else coming with them. Had they had a fight with some of the others on the crew that you weren’t aware of? You certainly hoped not, you didn’t like the crew fighting amongst themselves. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nami whispered to Usopp as they remained a couple paces away from you. Operation: Divide and Conquer might have had a good name but the strategy didn’t seem all that good except try and get you to confess to Luffy by either making you jealous or straight up lying. If they couldn’t get through to you, they would try the same tactic with Luffy.

“It has to!” Usopp hissed back, quickly throwing you a nervous smile when you looked over your shoulder with a curious tilt of your shoulder. “Hey let’s go in here!” He called out in a panic, pointing to the closest store. You stopped and shrugged, going along with whatever the sniper wanted. You had nothing to buy on this trip so you were just here for company and fun. Still this wasn’t what you’d thought would be on his or Name’s shopping list.

“Is someone getting married?” You asked, looking around the store filled with elegant gowns, robes and suits. Suddenly your eyes lit up as you hurried to hug Nami and Usopp tightly, so this was why they had insisted on you coming with them. You couldn’t fully understand why they were being so secretive but it didn’t matter given how overcome with happiness for them. “You guys! I’m so happy for you both! Have you told the others?! Are you getting married on the island?” 

“WHAT?! NO! ” Nami blurted out in shock while Usopp could only shriek at the implication. “We’re not getting married!”

“Oh…that’s a shame.” Your smile fell slightly. “I always thought you two made a nice couple. Guess I was wrong. So who is getting married?” You asked, staring intently on your friends who stammered and struggled to think of something. Operation: Divide and Conquer was crashing and burning around them and their brains all but blanked as together they rambled together while you patiently listened. Neither of them really knew what they’d told you or knew if it made any sort of sense but you seemed to accept it and continued with your day with the frazzled pair.

When you returned to the Sunny later that day you went to your usual perch of the railing near Sunny’s head. Silently you thought over what Usopp and Nami told you and were beginning to work it out in your head when Luffy appeared beside you with a bright grin. “Hey, what’s got you so frustrated looking?” He asked, oblivious to the rest of the crew on the deck; all of them pretending to go about their business when they were only making sure they were close enough to hear. 

“I’m thinking about Usopp.” You explained in a dazed tone, absently running your fingers along your bottom lip, deep in thought. Luffy frowned slightly while different sets of eyes glanced Usopp’s way, all confused about what he and Nami did while they were alone with you. “I’m trying to work out this wedding.”

“Usopp’s getting married?” Luffy asked. On the one hand he was happy but on the other hand he thought Usopp would have told him personally. “To who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to work out.” You mumbled before taking a deep breath, deciding to start from the beginning. “Usopp’s enemy wants him to marry their princess to avoid a great battle but he doesn’t want a fight or to get married so he needs to make them think he’s already married so they don’t get angry right? He needs Sanji to cater the wedding, Brook to preform the music, and Zoro to be his bodyguard so they’re out. Nami said because she’s giving Usopp the money for the wedding that’s the only favour she’s doing and won’t marry him as well because that’s not fair. Usopp said he can’t marry Franky or Robin because they’re like his parents and Chopper’s a reindeer and that’s weird. Which leaves us.” 

The more you explained the situation the more Usopp and Nami shrank towards the floor out of despair and embarrassment. Why had you believed that nonsense enough to now relay it to the entire crew who were now looking at them in bafflement. Through it all Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He didn’t want Usopp to be forced to be married to someone he didn’t like but it didn’t stop him from quickly turning on his heel and looking to his friend. “Usopp I’ll marry you!”

“You can’t marry me dumbass!” Usopp shouted back making Luffy glare, all but standing in front of you to block you from Usopp’s stare.

“Well you’re not allowed to marry them. So it’s me or the princess.” Luffy told him with defiance in his eyes.

“Why can’t he marry me?” You asked curiously while getting to your feet, watching Luffy blink as he only now considered his fierce sense of protectiveness and possessiveness towards you. 

“Because I don’t want him to?” He suggested with a shrug. “I don’t want you to marry him, I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t like you being married to Usopp.” You added, voicing your own reluctance and unhappiness at the thought of Luffy marrying…well anyone. There was a silent exchange between you and Luffy as though you were communicating in your own way through a look alone. Together you both grinned with a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you both whipped your head towards Usopp and declared in unison.  “Usopp you’re marrying the princess.”

While it hadn’t been the grand romantic epiphany the crew had been expecting to witness, they could tell that a shift between you both had occurred. There was something a little more intimate between you both while you both remained your happy, energetic selves. No one on the crew had the heart to tell either of you that Usopp had been completely lying about the arranged marriage so they never mentioned it again. They were however all in agreement that if it ever was brought up it was to be brushed aside and explained as a story Usopp had been thinking of writing and nothing more. But from the looks of things slowly developing between you and Luffy they could all see that it was shaping up to having a happily ever after.  

[gemini-sensei]

Secret's Out | Miguel Diaz x Lawrence!Reader

Req: please do Miguel and cryptic pregnancy trope!!! like the process of her giving birth and can this be lawrencereader?? if not that’s okay :) CW: cryptic pregnancy, secret relationship, giving birth, Johnny being Johnny. (unedited)

It was no surprise Reader and Miguel fell for each other. Living in the same apartment complex just across from each other, seeing one another everyday, not to mention he was her father's karate student. It was a recipe for love.

It was also a recipe for disaster, as both Miguel and Reader knew that her father was going to have his head if he ever found out about them.

Johnny Lawrence was old school. He wouldn't like the idea of his star student getting together with his daughter. He didn't even like the idea of her dating even though she was 19 years old and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, thanks to yours truly of course. He'd taught her everything she needed to know about defending herself, not letting anyone sell her bullshit, and being so assertively herself that no one could argue with her about anything. He prided himself in at least raising a daughter who was headstrong, though that sometimes came back to bite him in the ass.

It wasn't one of those days, thankfully, and he was able to work in peace as she helped out around the dojo. She was mostly in charge of helping in demonstrations and setting up dummies as needed, but for the most part, things were going well. It was with LaRusso that Johnny had any problems with as they still butt heads from time to time on how to teach their students.

Reader was talking to Anthony and Devon about something when she felt a pain shoot up her back and through her stomach. She was a tough young lady, so she didn't let it show very much, but as her eyebrows scrunched up, the two students gave her weird looks.

"Are you okay, Reader?" Devon asked, looking her over carefully.

The pain lingered but she nodded. "Yeah, must be a muscle spasm or something."

She rubbed her back, thinking it would pass quietly. Though she'd never felt pain like that before, she wasn't all that concerned with it and she dragged Anthony with her to grab the bo staffs for the next and final lesson. It wouldn't be long before she got to go home.

Halfway through the lesson, though, the same pain surfaced and she felt like she was cramping. It threw her off her drills with the bo and she groaned, waving off the concerned looks of those around her. She didn't need them gawking at her and staring. She didn't finish the lesson with everyone and it pissed her off to no end, but she decided not to dwell on it. The last thing she needed was unnecessary stress on top of whatever it was bothering her.

She walked into the bathroom of Miyagi-Do while the students called it a day. Her father and Daniel cleaned up the yard and patio while she splashed some water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt her face with the back of her hand, but nothing felt off and she didn't look like she was sick. She just looked like she was in pain, which she was, but she quickly shook that look off and decided to finish the day's work. Going home would be fine.

However, she could barely sweep the interior of the house because she kept cradling her belly and groaning. The pain was consistent and happening more often. When her dad and Mr. LaRusso came in to close up, hardly anything was done and they had to question why.

"Reader, you're usually done and gone by now," Daniel said.

She waved him off with a huff. "Cut me some slack, old man. I feel like shit."

"Ah, it's that time of the month," Johnny said, seeing the way his daughter held herself and was slightly slouched over. "You always pull through, you'll be fine."

"Fuck off," she said, knowing damn well he didn't understand a woman's period. She thought about slugging him in the gut and giving him a taste of what that felt like when the pain shot through her again, harder and worse than before. She cried out and almost fell to the floor, only barely leaning against the wall to save herself.

Tears pricked her eyes as the pain became unbearable. Her breathing quickened as it persisted for a moment, her father and Daniel on either side of her in an instant.

Daniel wiped her forehead of sweat she didn't even know about and looked at her father. "I think this is serious. You should take her to the hospital."

Johnny looked worried and fearful of what that could mean, but he didn't argue. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Reader, can you walk?"

"I don't know," she whined, head leaned back against the wall as she put her energy into not crying.

Keeping her eyes clothes, she felt her father pick her up and carry her outside. Daniel led the way, opening the doors in their way. She was placed in her father's van and he buckled her in. He held her face and said, "You're gonna be okay. Whatever this is, you'll get through it."

"Just get me outta here," she groaned.

He nodded and hurried to the other side of the car. He drove as fast and without a care, only thinking of his daughter as she screamed in pain with each shooting pain that came and went. In between those moments, she was moaning and groaning in misery.

Despite his speed, things weren't going fast enough for Reader. Things started to feel weird and hurt more as she sat there. She couldn't sit with her legs together, unable to close them for some reason. She couldn't think straight, her whole body sending signals to her brain about how much pain she was in, and it sucked. However, she began even more scared when she felt a rush of hot liquid gush from between her legs and she was too embarrassed to say anything to her father.

Then something inside of her moved and she didn't know what to make of it. She reached between her legs to feel something bulging from her cunt and she burst into tears, scaring her father.

It had been a long time since he'd seen her cry, especially out of fear or pain, so what the fuck was going on?

When they got to the hospital, Johnny rushed in with her in his arms and she was quickly taken away from the emergency room lobby, leaving both of them alone. No one had any idea of what they were getting into, getting rushed, half-informed explanations from Johnny and quick answers from Reader before she was screaming again. It all happened so fast, but to Johnny, it felt like forever. His mind conjured up the worst case scenarios and he didn't know what to do with himself.

Robby showed up not long after, having gotten word from Mr. LaRusso that his half-sister was rushed to the hospital. He immediately went to Johnny. "What happened?"

"I don't know. One minute, she was fine, and the next she's screaming and crying," he explained, shaking his head. The screams and cries of his only daughter are trapped in his head and it's shaken Johnny to his core. "That's the toughest girl I know. She doesn't cry easily, Robby."

Robby rubbed his father's back in an attempt to comfort him. "I know."

They sit there for an hour before someone can tell them anything.

Carmen Diaz comes out, being neighbors and knowing the family well, she wanted to be the one to give them the update on Reader. She thought Reader was such a nice, strong girl. She knew she and Miguel were close, but she didn't know just how close until about forty minutes ago when Reader made a shocking confession to her. Nevertheless, Carmen held Reader's hand as pushed through the pain.

"Johnny, Robby," she said softly as she approached. She offered a smile because while the situation was scary and unpredictable, it hadn't ended horribly. In fact, it was a joyous occasion. "Reader's going to be okay."

"Okay? You sure? She was screaming her head off all the way here," Johnny said, standing from his seat.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. She took a deep breath. "She gave birth to a healthy little girl."

"Gave birth?" Robby repeated, a shockwave hitting him and his father. How was that possible?

"Like a real baby?" Johnny asked. "Where'd that come from? She wasn't pregnant. I would've known if she was pregnant."

Carmen nodded. "Well, it would appear that she didn't even know she was pregnant. It's called a cryptic or hidden pregnancy and, as the name suggests, it's like a secret. She showed little to no symptoms, got her period regularly, and didn't gain a noticeable amount of weight. It's not typical, but not unheard of."

Johnny and Robby had to sit with that for a minute, letting it sink in. Reader had just given birth to a secret baby that none of them, herself included, knew about. Johnny was still processing everything when Robby asked, "Can we see her?"

"She wants the baby's father to come in first."

"Who the Hell is the baby's father?" Johnny asked, getting protective and defensive. He just spent well over and hour worrying and pacing the hospital lobby only to get sidelined by some shmuck that wasn't there. From where he was standing, this guy better be good enough for his daughter to do something like that.

At that moment, Miguel came running into the lobby with pure panic rushing through his bloodstream and sweat pouring down his face.

"Where is she? Where's Reader?" he asked, looking between everyone there. At that moment, he didn't care about the fact that no one knew they were together. He only cared about her and the emergency that he had to be there for. He's gotten few details over the phone when his mom called, only knowing that he had to be there. "Is she okay? Was there some kind of accident?"

Robby stared at Miguel, fire in his eyes. "No, but I might cause one soon..."

Miguel looked at him weirdly, knowing that Robby was going to be protective of Reader, but now didn't seem like the time. He turned to his mom for answers.

"There wasn't an accident, Miggy, she's okay," she assured him, rubbing his arms to comfort him. "She's being moved to the maternity ward and once they've got her settled in a room over there, you can go see her."

"Maternity ward? Why would she need to be there?" Miguel asked.

He felt Johnny and Robby's eyes burning holes into his whole body as they stared him down. He looked at them questionably, as confused as they had been only minutes ago. Then it dawned on him. "She's pregnant?"

"Was," Johnny grunted, glaring at his star student. "She had the baby already."

"What? How? I mean- how is that possible?"

Carmen rubbed his back as she got a page on her beeper. She checked it before looking at him. "I'll explain it on the way over there. Why don't the three of you follow me?"

By the time they got to Reader's room, Miguel was up to date on the basics what cryptic pregnancies were and how they didn't show themselves. He also got an earful from Johnny about the situation, which sounded a lot like "I can't believe you would do this to me" and "that's my daughter, the one girl in the whole world you, my student, shouldn't have ever gotten with." Robby stayed quiet the whole way there.

Miguel walked right into the room to find an exhausted Reader sitting up on the bed with a baby blanket in her arms. She was just staring down at the little bundle, the smallest of smiles on her lips. When she heard him enter the room, thankfully alone because she wasn't ready to face her father (and she didn't even know Robby was there yet).

"Migs," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

He walked over to her slowly, feeling as though he was in some sort of false reality. How was this possible? How could they not know? Even though he knew the answers now, he was still turning those questions, and more, over in his head. What did this mean for them? He was in college, how was he going to help her raise a baby? Pay for a baby? They didn't even have anything for a baby. They were so unprepared, so there was a part of his mind that thought this was some kind of weird dream he was having.

However, when he was close enough to see the little face of the baby - their baby - peeking out from the blankets, he knew it was real.

Despite her small size, their baby girl had a mop full of dark curls on her head. She had the smallest nose and tiniest lips he'd ever seen. She was fast sleep in Reader's arms, unbothered by anything else around them.

"She looks like you," Reader said, looking up at him with a small smile.

Miguel let out a little laugh. "You think so?"

"Yeah," she told him and giggled. She yawned but tried not to let it show. He put a hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him, and he saw how tired she truly was. She barley had any energy let, using what was left to admire their tiny little surprise. "I almost gave birth to her in my dad's van."

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her head. "Glad you made it here in time." He felt so bad that she had to go through that alone. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"Don't be. Seriously, I swear, if you start apologizing for that every day, I'll punch you in the throat," she told him, her brash attitude shining through. He smiled despite her threat. "I'm just happy I'm not dead. Besides, your mom was here and she's great."

"Yeah, she's pretty awesome," he said. He looked back at the baby in Reader's arms and reached out to her, touching her soft hair. "Do you have a name for her?"

Reader shook her head. "I can hardly think right now. I was hoping you'd know something."

"I... I don't know," he said and chuckled. He sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her. "We'll think of something, though."

As they sat in silence, from outside, Johnny and Robby were watching from the door. They peered in but didn't enter, letting the couple have their moment with their new daughter. Johnny still didn't know what to make of it, but as he watched the way Miguel interacted with Reader and their baby, he had a pretty alright feeling about it.

Robby put it into the best words, though; "I guess if it's gonna be anyone, Miguel's good enough."

[elany]

Yk what I want? I want a very early stages post canon labrumisu, but from Chilchuck's POV.

Imagine mister 'interparty romance is the devil' visiting court just to see these three circling each other like a pack of uniquely unhinged cats. And of course he sees it immediately, he's nothing if not perceptive and he's seen this happen so, so many times before. Kabru is hardly subtle in his fascination with Laios, who trusts him in turn more than nearly anybody else. He can see how close Mithrun and Kabru still are, even when there's little reason for the former captain to even stay in Melini. He can see where this is going. And he can see the disaster it's gonna end up in.

So he's just staring at them in horror, trying to figure out what in the world the dynamic here even is and glaring daggers at Kabru all the while for seemingly being the linchpin of this entire bullshit situation. King, his adviser and a fucking foreign noble?? Who thought THAT was a good idea! Is nobody else seeing this?? (no lol) Why is nobody objecting to this politically unsound love triangle that could literally ruin the kingdom they've only just established??

The anger! The distress! The despair when he first sees Laios getting all giddy when Mithrun so much as talks to him. Because hell, now he can't even blame the entire situation on one pretty boy insisting on having fingers in every possible pie, on political and personal level both!

And then they just. Quietly get together. All three of them. And Chil's just watching from the sidelines in complete bafflement because he's invented infinite worst case scenarios for how this will implode in all of their faces and destroy their friend group and topple the entire country and--

Instead they do. This. He'd be relieved if he wasn't so goddamn mad that he's spent months worrying about this shit just for them to resolve it in the least dramatic way possible.

Fuck this, he's taking a holiday.

[mono-blogs-art]

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko - The Lesbian Office RomCom You Needed

Blatant flirting, hilarious misunderstandings, and lesbian shenanigans aplenty - this show is funny, over-dramatic, and most of all gay as hell. Here's my review! Spoiler-free version first, and a more detailed spoiler-y version under the cut. I hope you enjoy!

A quick summary: Overall: 9/10, you should absolutely watch this! Genre: RomCom, with some serious elements and a heartfelt exploration of sexuality Watch if you are looking for... : A silly and fun time, a happy ending, misunderstandings, and character development. Highly recommended to watch this with your partner(s) or your sapphic friends! Watch out for... : Although the tone of the show is mostly comedic, it contains discussion & depiction of homophobia at the workplace and past trauma relating to that Where to watch: Official TL on GagaOOLala, or Fansubs by @furritsubs (highly recommended!)

"Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko" (Ayaka-chan wa Hiroko-senpai ni Koishiteru) is a Jdrama adaption of a manga by the same title. The series premiered this year July 2024 and has wrapped up a short while ago, with a total runtime of 8 episodes of 24 minutes each.

The title of the show already says all; the plot is simple: Junior staff member Ayaka is head-over-heels for Hiroko, her senior at the company she works at. And she has decided to go on the offensive.

There are many obstacles in Ayaka's way: first of all, Hiroko is 13 years older than her (they are 23 and 36), and her superior at the workplace. Hiroko is beloved by both her superiors as well as her staff, so Ayaka's love for her is just one of many. And no matter how blatantly she ups her advances (and girl, she is BOLD), Hiroko is 100% convinced that all the flirting is just misplaced, straight-woman obliviousness.

The irony of it all is that Ayaka is absolutely barking up the right tree, because Hiroko is a lesbian, but has been firmly in the closet at work - something that she has no plans on changing. Her professional life and her personal must stay completely separate, at all cost. The only place she can truly be herself is the lesbian bar she's been a regular at for years.

^ Me when I'm a lesbian disaster doing insane mental gymnastics

However, "giving up" is not in Ayaka's vocabulary. As her seduction attempts keep escalating and being misunderstood, Hiroko's hard exterior begins to crumble bit by bit. Can Hiroko finally overcome her rigid ways, and let herself fall for someone?

Although the show is first and foremost a comedy, both Ayaka and Hiroko as characters are handled really well. They have their own problems, insecurities, reservations about the other, and both have a simple but great arc over the course of the series. Ayaka is discovering her sexuality, something she had never even considered before falling for Hiroko. What does being in love with a woman mean for her future? And Hiroko, who is already very confident in her sexuality, is confronted by her past trauma, and the fact that she's still not ready to come out despite the changing times. And while being undercover has saved her career in the past, it has also made her feel alone and isolated. She likes Ayaka back, but can't allow her true colors to show.

Something that I find very hard to achieve with comedy shows is the switch between funny and serious, and I think that Ayahiro manages this very well. Both of our main characters feel grounded enough in reality that when they get emotional, it feels relatable and sincere. For a silly show like this, striking a balance like that is crucial, and save for a few pacing issues in the later half of the show (that I honestly didn't mind at all), I think the show totally nails it. Ayahiro is not a realistic show, but it contains elements of reality that made me connect to it, despite all the insane shenanigans that go on. And because of that the show made me laugh and cry as much as it did, often in the same episode. It works, and Kudos to the writers (and actors!) for that.

Speaking of actors, one thing I must mention is that the show is very well made. The actors (especially Mori Kanna as Hiroko is the standout for me, she has a natural charisma and gay swagger) do a fantastic job, the leads' chemistry is great. The production overall has some real money behind it, with lots of changing sets that all look great and have been crafted with care. Ayaka's outfits are absolute KILLER, she is giving insane femme energy. The show also looks very pretty, the color graders turn that saturation up to 100 and it fits Ayaka's rose-tinted world well.

That's it for the spoiler-less part, I'll now get into specific characters and plot points with full spoilers up to the end of the series under the cut. If you don't want to get spoiled, I hope the review until now made you want to watch the show for yourself! I hope you enjoy!

First of all I need to disclaim that I have not read the original manga that she show is based on, so I can't compare the series to its original and how the plot is written there. I do intend to read it (I hope it gets localized to German so I can support the official release, but I might check out the English Official TL anyway before that) but for now, I will only judge the series as is.

Ayaka: Our protagonist is a femme fatale, in... another meaning of the word, I guess. She is a disaster, bad at pretty much everything she does except not giving up. Once she has set her mind to something, she will get it done. That leads her to often be inconsiderate and unable to see what others around her are feeling, which goes mostly for her best friend Risa, but also for Hiroko, whose feelings she also fails to consider even when pursuing her. Ayaka has to learn the hard way that her naivete is hurting others, and herself. She hasn't really thought her advances through, simply acting on instinct. But as the series goes on, she takes her feelings and her newly discovered sexuality seriously, and grows comfortable with calling herself a lesbian. She is also unashamedly horny, like, Oh My God, this girl is trying to get laid so bad. This is hilarious and refreshing to see, and although her seduction attempts are often played as comedic, it doesn't feel like she is being ridiculed for her sexuality by the show. Ayaka often crosses boundaries (physical and emotional) with Hiroko, both out of naivite and in deliberate attempts to seduce her. To me this was never truly infuriating, even though sometimes she really did go too far, but for me it always kept in tone with the comedy of the show. Even when Ayaka finally comes out in front of the entire office, she makes it clear that she doesn't want Hiroko to do the same if she's not ready.

Hiroko: Our deuteragonist is probably my favourite character in the show, and I think she's very relatable and well done. As an older lesbian, she's got plenty of experience, having even earned the title of "The Ace" in her lesbian friend circle for being a talented womanizer. But a traumatic experience of losing her last partner due to being found out at the workplace has changed her. She's afraid to get attached, she's unable to let people get close to her true self. So when Ayaka is fighting tooth and nail to get to her, Hiroko is caught in conflict between her feelings of attraction and her past trauma. She does everything in her power to dismiss Ayaka's advances to protect herself, and later when she learns that Ayaka is in fact not straight (duh), she still turns her down to protect Ayaka's (and her own) career. Hiroko is a bit of a conservative - something she's also called out for in her lesbian friend circle - she believes that coming out at work is impossible and irresponsible. And you know, I get it. Not only does she have personal bad experiences with exactly that, it's also not unreasonable to think it would be a bad idea to hook up with your junior of 13 years. Like, I get it girl. Hiroko is clearly attracted to Ayaka, not just physically but also emotionally, because Ayaka is everything Hiroko wants to be but can't. And that leads to Hiroko constantly underestimating Ayaka, even treating her like a child. She thinks Ayaka is not really thinking the gravity of her actions through, and she gets called out for that and has to overcome it. In the end, Hiroko ends up being a character that needs time, and needs to unlearn a whole bunch of shitty behaviour, something the show clearly also shows is being worked on and that Ayaka also respects (more on that later).

Risa: Easily the character I struggled with the most, Ayaka's best friend Risa is complicated. She's very observant but also shy, and secretly harbors a crush on Ayaka. Quietly struggling with her sexuality, she only decides to come out when she realises that Ayaka's feelings for Hiroko are serious. Oh, it's messy! She confesses to Ayaka, who in turn has to struggle with her feelings for someone else, but also not wanting to lose her closest confidant. And to her credit, Risa takes the rejection quite gracefully and continues to support Ayaka in her pursuit of Hiroko. However, Risa also outs Hiroko against her will to Ayaka, which... is just a shitty thing to do, even though she just wanted to help her friend. Good motive, still murder. After the conflict between Ayaka and Risa is resolved, Risa just kind of... is around, quietly worrying in her corner and kind of (in my opinion) overstepping her boundaries with Hiroko. I don't dislike Risa, but I thought her character was not done super well in parts, and although I understand the complicated situation she herself is in, the show doesn't really let her grow as much as the other characters. Anyway, good for her for bagging the hottest chick at the lesbian bar, though. Good for her!

The "break-up": The story's conflict comes to a peak when Hiroko finally realises there is only one way to shut this all down. She needs to fulfill Ayaka's desire, and then turn her down, once and for all. But Hiroko at this point still thinks Ayaka is immature and hasn't really thought her actions through. Ayaka sheepishly asks for a kiss, so Hiroko kisses her. "Now you've achieved everything you wanted." We're done, you can give up on me and this childish crush you have on me. And most importantly, I can let you go, too. Not realising that Ayaka wants much more. She wants a real relationship, she wants the kiss, sex, real emotions, she wants to see Hiroko's true self too. She wants a partnership.

The Finale: With the encouragement of her peers, Ayaka finds the courage to express her feelings to Hiroko one last time. And she finds just the right words to finally get through to her. Hiroko realises how much of an ass she's been all this time, how she ended up hurting the girl she loves and herself by denying herself happiness. This whole scene was so well done (Kudos to Kato Shiho as Ayaka, this is probably her best scene in the entire show), brother I cried so hard. And finally Hiroko can say what she should have a long time ago: "I'm sorry."

One year later: In the show's worst case of bad pacing, we immediately cut from their tearful reunion to "one year later", lol. I don't mind the sudden jump too much, but maybe a bit of a slower fade-out would have softened the blow, because I think a few people probably found this very jarring xD not too bad for me. I was actually positively surprised that we actually get to see the aftermath, see how their relationship has developed a year into it.

I've seen a few people complain about this "no-sex scene" (lol) and I just want to add my two cents. I actually really like how this scene played out, for two reasons. Reason 1 is that it's just very much in-character for Hiroko. We've seen her struggle back-and-forth with the intimacy Ayaka wanted from her for the past 7.5 episodes, and her own internalised homophobia and constant fear of "crossing the line". She's a traumatized person, and it makes total sense to me that even one year into the relationship, she's still struggling with sexual intimacy. Sure, a whole year is a long time not having sex with your partner (even though you both clearly wanted to from day 1) but like... it makes sense for Hiroko. She's still working through the past 10+ years of repression. I do understand how this scene can be interpreted as "the show is afraid to show them being horny and sexy together, they're cowards for making Hiroko so obsessed with Ayaka's "purity" etc" and like, yes, that is a totally valid interpretation, but IMO also a quite bad faith one.

"I'm happy to know you feel that way. Which is why, could you please wait a little more, just until I sort my feelings out?" "What?" "I want to cherish you, Ayaka." "Right." "I'm sorry for everything, Ayaka." "For everything?" "In the end, it seems like I still haven't came out yet. I understand that I'm making you endure something when you don't have to. But… I do want to be with you, and I want to keep my job. I'm really sorry for making you put up with my selfishness."

^ Like, that is the conversation that follows. It's not just about sex for Hiroko, that kind of intimacy holds a deeper meaning to her and she's just not ready for it yet, and trying to sincerely tell her partner that. And when Ayaka reaffirms her willingness to be patient in this scene and is respectful of Hiroko's choice, Hiroko realizes that she's being a stupid coward, and finally makes a decision...

... to come out in front of the whole office, who's been gossiping about their relationship the whole year anyway.

And that is the end of the show!

So really, Hiroko did manage to overcome her fears in the end, and it took her a whole year into a healthy relationship to do so. And I think that is honestly much more realistic than some people would like to believe. Is the smooch in front of the whole office silly and cheesy and over-dramatic? Of course, but that's the entire show so far. And if you think that kiss-and-dip is dumb then I can't help you, I think you just don't like fun.

Oh yeah, and my reason 2 why I thought that no-sex scene was done well is because it's just funny. Ayaka has been DTF since minute 1 of the show, and her still being unable to get it this far into it is just funny. I would have loved a little nod to them finally getting down at the very, very end, but eh, I can live with it like this. They've conquered the emotional hurdles, I'm certain they will cross that other bridge when they get there on their own time.

Conclusion: "Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko" is a great and incredibly funny lesbian show that touched me emotionally much more than I thought it would. It made me cry several times, the production and acting quality positively surprised me, and honestly deserves my Nr 2 spot of favourite Lesbian JDrama after Tsukutabe (which is a 10/10 show) for now. I really hope this type of show gets imitators, adapting relatively short stories into mini-series with great quality. I appreciate the more adult tone of this series, its shameless comedy while still being able to hit serious beats with real emotion. From what I've seen of the BTS, the actors and staff also handled the subject matter with respect and care and had a lot of fun making the show. I don't think a season 2 is needed, but I do hope that the series can inspire more similar works. I love Ayaka and Hiroko, and I'm so happy they got their happy ending, and by God, I hope they have the best sex ever in their beautiful lesbian future. God bless.

That's it from me, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this show as much as I did! Hopefully see you soon!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello!

I've been getting very into DC again, from all the comics I had in my attic.

So i would like to request a "meeting the batfam" like think.

Being Bruce's new boyfriend and meeting the kids and how would they react.

Have a nice day! (You're the only think keeping me from commiting a crime/jk)

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Headcanons

Ive been on a kick lately of making half-god characters, so reader is the son of a god, hehe ^^

You were the son of Ares, a half god, and the son of a god most feared, and that the Justice league had fought many times.

So, by relation, many people didn’t trust you when they learned about your parentage. Had you been any crueler of a person, that might have driven you down a path where you followed in your fathers’ footsteps, but you weren’t.

You ended up inheriting many of his powers, even gaining his clairvoyance and precognition in dreams. Said dreams had been your first sign that you were more than just your average person, as you foresaw many of the larger disasters around the world.

There ends up being a sense of duty in your heart as your dreams keep warning you about an invasion of earth, becoming more and more detailed every night. It reaches a point where you think you are going mad.

As a last-ditch effort, you end up in Gotham, where you spend days trying to find any of the bats, just trying to find somebody to believe you. In the end, you stumble across Bruce, who probably thinks you are on something because of the less than put together state you are in.

That is until you spill everything you have been dreaming about, and how its all happened, and how this dream keeps haunting you every night.

Bruce of course listens to everything you have to say, and takes you as seriously as anything else he would. He keeps your warning in mind and gets prepared, and when your precognition comes to pass, he is ready.

From then in, Bruce passes by your place every now and then, as you end up moving to Gotham as Batman is the only hero you feel takes you seriously.

Hes the one to help you figure out your true parentage, and gets you in contact with some people who can help you deal with your new developing powers. You two end up bonding a lot, and over time, fall in love.

You both make each other feel like a full person and like you are understood. The relationship is kept quiet on Bruces end, not because he doesn’t trust his family or anything, but because he just wants to keep it to himself for a bit.

It does get a bit hard to hide the hand shaped bruises on his hips or torso when your godly strength slips out, but Bruce has lived with worse aches and bruises in his life, so its not something people notice.

You never went out of your way to become a hero, even with your godly powers. You are happy living your life and being together with Bruce, much of your stress gone since you know Bruce will believe you when it comes to your dreams.

When the day finally comes where you go to meet his family, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Sure, you’ve met them in passing as their vigilante alter egos, when they’ve followed Bruce during his meetings with you, but this will be as Bruces lover.

Bruce is endeared by how hard you want to make a good impression, how you fuss with your hair and your clothes to be most presentable. When you ask him if you need to bring a gift or something, he just laughs a little and kisses your forehead, telling you to stop worrying as he’s sure they’ll love you.

The family all know Bruce is bringing his lover that night for family dinner, but they all don’t know who it is, even Alfred is in the dark.

They are all a bit on edge, as Bruce doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to partners. And since he didn’t tell them a name, they assume its not the people he’s normally been with, like Selina or Talia.

Imagine their surprise when Bruce arrives with you on his arm, from your civilian clothes to your sheepish smile, to you looking downright nervous to meet them as you clearly want to make a good first impression.

It might take a bit for any of them to recognize you, as only a few of them might have met you in passing, but you probably end up telling them during dinner when they ask how you and Bruce met.

I can’t see them being against you more than they would any other partner, especially when you go out of your way to use your dreams and abilities to help as many people as possible.

Cass is most likely the one to warm up to you first, as she can easily read that you are a good person who loves Bruce very much, and Cass’s approval makes the others become less tense and more open to the idea of you.

Alfred is also happy that Bruce has found someone who isn’t a criminal or assassin for once, even though they all know you could punch a guy to smithereens if you wanted too, thanks to your godly strength.

But your personality makes it clear that’s not something you want to do, so that gives you extra points in their books. They most likely use their knowledge from Diana and her parentage when it comes to you, incase you end up doing something a little too godly without realizing.

They’ve all been around many different kinds of people and beings, so I don’t think anything you do put them off. They’ll all just need time to warm up to you, and see with their own eyes that you truly do love Bruce, and that Bruce loves you back just as much.

It would take a while, as they were all trained by Bruce and are all suspicious of anybody and take forever to trust. It starts to make you think they’ll never like you, even when Bruce tells you they will, they just need time.

You know you’ve gained their trust when they start showing up in your apartment, be it after patrol, during the day, or any other time, they’re likely to just appear. This also means you end up learning a lot more first aid than you thought you’d ever need.

The last to trust you is Damian, but you can tell you scored a win when he demands you learn self-defense, as your form is horrible, and he drags you down to the cave to walk you through the basics.

Bruce feels like his heart could burst with love when he sees his family accepting you, and he couldn’t be any happier. The batfam is pretty damn happy too, as Bruce starts taking care of himself because of you.

Can’t have a date if he hasn’t slept in days, or if he’s covered in bruises or has broken bones. You probably end up spending a lot of time at the manor too, since Bruce can’t just go into town to spend time in your apartment during the day, or else the paparazzi would find out about the relationship almost immediately.

So, all in all, his kids would like you quite a lot after they got enough time to learn what kinda person you were, and what your morals were. They might even start seeing you as a safe person to go too when they need someone to talk too or just need some company.