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vibratingskull · 1 day

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Well if we are doing Thrass...I humbly request: First date with Thrass! Any way you want to do it.

Thrass is on the dating market guys! Come try your chance with the sweetest chiss in the Chaos!

beautiful art by the amazing @thrawns-backrest

Thrass xF!reader

Tag: first date, Thrawn being casually aroace (in my fic? who knew?), Thrass is kind of a goofball, fluff

You breathe through your nose, reassuring your grip on your purse straps in your hands. You raise your head lightly to observe passersby.

Chiss...

Haughty and regal.

Barely giving a glance to little you, all alone lying against the street light. You fidget your thumbs, suddenly second-guessing your dress with colorful flowers... Is too much or too little? Are your heels too high? Is your stocking elegant or scandalous? Does your perfume smell good or just reek? Does your coiffure enhance your features as you hoped or does it make you look goofy?

It’s your first date with him, and you want to appear at your best to impress him!

You bite the nail of your thumb, looking around for him.

He is late.

What if he never comes?

What if he forgot about you?

What if he sets you up?

What if-

“(Y/n)’(F/n)! There you are!”

You spin in surprise to discover Mitth’ras’safis approaching with a tranquil pace, raising his hand to you in a greeting. He wears the traditional tunic of his rank, long, elegant, and distinguished. His long hair is impeccably braided.

“Mister Mitth’ras’safis!” You slightly bow to him in your excitation and confusion.

You are so relieved he is here! You press your lips in a thin line as he winces.

“It’s Mitth’ras’safis.” He corrects, “But please, call me Thrass, it will be easier for your vocal cords.”

“Alright, mister... Thrass.” You nod hurriedly.

“Just Thrass please.”

“But you’re a Syndic of the Mitth!”

“Today I did not come to you as a Syndic but as a simple man.” He retorts, “I am merely an ordinary Chiss.”

You nod again, slower, feeling your cheek heating up dangerously and it worsens when you remember the Chiss can see warmth on your skin.

“Then please, call me (Y/n).” You propose back.

“(Y/n)...” He tries your name, his chin in his fingers, testing how your name rolls on his tongue, “It has an exotic sound to it.”

He seems to like it.

He tilts his head with a gentle smile.

“Should we go?” He invites.

You walk alongside one another in silence. You hold on desperately to your purse, trying to calm down your beating heart. You feel yourself sweating with too much tension. You give a side glance to Mitth’ra...

Thrass.

He seems relaxed and calm, a little smile floating on his lips as he looks straight ahead of you both. You’re clearly on two different planets! You gently press a hand against your heart.

You never thought he would accept such rendezvous with you! You are only human after all...

You remember your meeting with him, and how dismissive and distrusting he was. You had the misfortune to mispronounce his full name and he took it very personally! Commander Thrawn tried to mediate the situation but you kept fumbling your poor Cheuhn and Thrass finally left with a terrible first impression of you and you were utterly terrified you might have doomed any future relationships between humans and Chiss!

When you’ve been judged civilized enough to be released in Chiss society, the Mitth family received the responsibility of “taking care” of you, because the Chiss who found and rescued you was Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo. You have been brought to the Mitth homestead and once again you crossed paths with Mitth’ras’safis and with Thrawn’s support you took the time to apologize for any wrongdoing you might have done towards him in proper Cheuhn this time.

He kept his expression closed and neutral, politely listening to you trying hard to not mangle any words and don’t inadvertently insult anyone’s mother in this difficult language. He stopped you by raising his hand and sighed. He apologized for his harsh demeanor and bad attitude and extended his hand to you. Your gaze traveled back and forth between his hand and face, unsure before tentatively taking it and shaking it with relief.

The Mitth’s Patriarch, Thooraki, chose a job for you, appointing you as aid to syndics of the family.

All of them.

So whenever a syndic needed a file, a datacylinder, or just a cup of caccoleaf it was your job to run everywhere in the building to find it. Mitth’ras’safis didn’t deprive himself of your services and frequently asked for your help.

He just was... nicer to you than the rest of the Syndics.

As much because it was his personality than because you were friends with his brother, or rather you held on to Thrawn as a buoy in the open sea and he, strangely, let it happen. Commander Thrawn was the one who saved your life from the neverending dark and cold of the Universe and was, by far, the most welcoming and open-minded of all the Chiss you encountered until now.

Thrawn was curious about you. You were the only representative of a new species, the only intel he had about this entirely new part of the Chaos and he strategically kept his relationship with you nice and polite. Desperate, you imprinted on him, asking him advice and opinions on everything and he let it happen, patiently, courteously.

And Thrass heard about it.

Thrawn must have come to him at the end of their respective day, telling how the weird alien human came back to him crying once again because she switched another file again today.

Which surprised Thrass because he never saw you cry during the day. He only saw you trying your best all day long, but apparently you took the habit of calling Thrawn each evening to vent.

Which also means somehow Thrawn gave you his personal code to call him, and that point was terribly interesting to Thrass...

Thrawn doesn’t trust easily.

So if he gave you a direct channel to him, he must have studied you thoroughly and judged you trustworthy enough. And whomever Thrawn trusts, Thrass is inclined to trust in return.

It’s the point when Thrass started to look at you more and pick up your little quirks and habits, the way you click your pen when you're nervous, the way you push a strand of hair behind your ear when you’re intently listening to someone, the little “oh!” you let escape when you understand something new...

And slowly, oh so slowly, Thrass started to relax with you. Being more patient, taking time to explain to you why he needed this file or this one when he asked you to retrieve it, while the other syndics just barked at you to find them chop chop! He saluted you when you crossed paths in the corridor and you bowed to him respectfully and, in all honestly, a little afraid. He chatted with you during caccoleaf breaks, helping you around when he found you overwhelmed while trying to sort data.

You always apologized profusely, feeling like a dead weight as he helped you carry data-cylinders into the storage room. He politely said it was nothing and got on his way, letting you finish your tasks.

And today, here you are!

On your first date! Together!

Thrass’ glance slides towards you and he gently smiles at you, making your heart race even quicker.

“Here we are!” He finally announces.

You stop and observe the imposing building in front of you. For the date he proposed you both come up with an activity, and you choose a play.

He is so refined and distinguished it was the only activity worthy of him you could come up with. He let you choose the play and the theater and had the role of guiding you across Csaplar.

The building is tall and large, with glass walls and geometrical oddities as angles. You open your purse to take out the ticket you printed, give his one to Thrass, and enter.

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“(Y/n)’(F/n) speaks highly of you” Thrawn once said to him during one of their Tactica games, during one of his too rare days back at Csilla.

The two brothers where sitting at their favorite bistro, a nice glass of alcohol each and a platter full of different canapes next to the board.

“Does she now?” Thrass responded, taking a sip of alcohol, letting it burn his throat and tongue so deliciously.

“Yes. I hear a lot about you through her.”

“Are you telling me I do not catch up enough with you, my brother?” Thrass teased Thrawn.

“Sometimes she cries when she speaks to me at night, but she always says you magically appear out of nowhere to help her on her feet and move on with her day.”

“I just want the work to get down, simple as that.” He chuckled, trying to understand where Thrawn was getting at.

Thrass took his stingfly and made it cross the board to place it next to his groundlion as Thrawn gaze was lost in the game, thinking 5 steps ahead in his strategy, making his drink twirl in his glass. Thrass contemplated his move one last time, tapped his clock to validate, and threw a tomato canape in his mouth, satisfied with his new Tactica level.

“I suspect... She thinks about you quite a lot.” Thrawn announced with his legendary tact, attacking his flank with his lion.

Thrass swallowed his canape the wrong way.

“Come again?” He coughed.

Thrawn raised his head, looking straight into his red eyes, serious like he had never before.

“You never noticed?”

“How would I have? My head is buried in my files and the only times I go out is for political meetings... Or to meet you.”

“How curious.” Thrawn tilted his head, not understanding, “You are usually better than me for understanding those things.”

“Exactly. It most probably means you misunderstood her.” Thrass patted his lips with a handkerchief in a soothing manner.

“She expressed herself in quite explicit terms.” Thrawn insisted, peacefully sipping his drink as Thrass got more and more distraught, “She left little to interpretation.”

“How explicit?” Thrass asked a little afraid.

Thrawn shakes his head, sorry.

“It is not in my rights to report her words. She should speak her truth herself.”

Thrass sniffed, putting his handkerchief in the pocket of his tunic.

“So what? The human as a little fling, what is it to me?”

Thrawn tilted his head again, squinting his bright red eyes at his older brother.

“I thought you appreciated her in return?” He let Thrass know.

Thrass remained silent, eyes round with surprise and mouth agape.

“What in tarnation... Where did that idea come from?” Thrass finally asked.

“It is a general sentiment you give off. The more times pass, the more her name leaves your mouth, you also hold yourself differently when you speak about her, you appear more... relaxed.”

By reflex Thrass corrected his position, straightening his back and raising his head high like the Syndicure theatrics teached him.

“I do not speak of her that much.” He counters.

“Maybe not so much, but more than before. And your tone is considerably softer, and your eyes...”

“What about my eyes?” Thrass asked with a warning in his voice.

“I just noticed they glow brighter when we speak about her.” Thrawn explains patiently.

Thrass gulped, his throat was going dry.

Thrawn is a master at reading body language. He undercovers entire secrets with a single glance, stripping souls naked before him.

What exactly did he think he saw in Thrass? Because there is no way he was smitten with the alien! Alright she was very hard-working, diligent, and pleasant to be around, her enthusiasm was enjoyable in the tight offices of the Syndicure. Thrass was even ready to admit her little panicked gasps when she realized she lost something on her way was endearing.

Daresay cute.

But to go such length as to say he was into her? Utterly ridiculous!

Thrass opened his mouth to shut down Thrawn definitively but his throat tightened around his rebuttal, stifling any words in his vocal cords, leaving his mouth simply open and completely mute.

He cannot explicitly deny his brother’s claims! Something was preventing him from speaking the truth!

The undeniable truth that he was, in fact, not enamored by the human woman.

Because that is the only truth.

Obviously...

“Like you said, I am not good with those matters.” Thrawn continued, swallowing a cheese canape, “But I know you, my brother. I know how you act towards things you love, and how your voice fluctuates when speaking of people close to your heart. And I simply thought I saw it on you with her.”

Thrawn was obviously trying to smooth the angles with Thrass to not offend him, but Thrass was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice how his brother was contorting his words to preserve his honor.

Thrass pressed his hand against his mouth, taking support on his elbow on the table, his mind spinning at 100 miles per hour.

Why can’t he just say the simple words ‘I am not in love with her’?

Coud he be...?

No.

Ridiculous.

Thrawn looked at his brother, febrile on his seat.

“Why not go on a date with her?” He finally asked.

Thrass raised his head to look at Thrawn, is attention piqued.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you obviously have a soft spot for her. Why not give it a try?”

“She is an alien.”

“And you are an alien to her, it did not stop her from falling for you.”

Thrass raised his hand to stop him.

“I am flattered she thinks so highly of me. But she is an alien, and I am a Chiss! Those things do not happen.”

Thrawn appeared more and more confused.

“I do not remember any laws forbidding it?”

“It is not about laws, Thrawn. It is about morality.”

Thrawn looked at me the weirdest he ever did.

“How living your love being against moral laws?”

For a fleeting second Thrass forgot he was talking to Thrawn. Any other Chiss would agree with Thrass at that moment.

But not Thrawn.

Thrawn would never understand...

“You speak of love but you know nothing about it.” As those words left Thrass's mouth he regretted them immediately.

Thrawn seemed to close back over himself, a single line of discontentment crossing his forehead.

“Thrawn, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Thrass immediately presented his excuses.

Thrawn took another canape to eat, his throat’s mucles contracting under his frustration.

“No, you are right.” He said, “This is a sentiment foreign to me. But I know when I witness it, and I witness it in you, my brother. And I would be mournful if you missed a chance to find your other half in life.”

“You are quite a romantic I realize.” Thrass couldn’t help but grin lightly at Thrawn’s choice of words.

“What I am trying to say is: give her a chance Thrass. You might come one day to regret not trying. You have nothing to lose in the end.”

Thrass slowly relaxed, pondering his options. It’s true, in the end, he had nothing to lose. He will not die to spend an afternoon with (Y/n)’(F/n)...

He could even know where he stands with her, why he couldn’t word the simple truth.

“You seem supportive of her.” Thrass investigated.

Thrawn shrugged.

“I got to know her during her stay on my ship on the UAG. She is honest and with a good nature. Like you.”

“You trust her.”

“Indeed I do. She is not a threat to the Ascendancy and I never felt an ounce of violence or darkness emmanating from her.”

“You know what? You are right.” Thrass let out, like transfigured.

Thrawn stopped mid-movement of drinking, not expecting such a drastic change of attitude in such a short time. Thrass didn’t lose a second and took out his comm, typing rapidly.

“Sent! ”

And Thrass seized his Nightbringer on the board and took Thrawn’s lion. Thrawn remained silent, fixated on his brother, completely lost.

“Like you I hate uncertainty.” Thrass explained, “The sooner I meet her, the sooner I will be in the picture. Are you happy?”

Thrawn contemplated his older brother, trying to make sense of that last minute.

“I simply thought you could be a good match.”

“We will learn it soon enough!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You exit the theater absolutely exhausted, your brain scrambled. It was a classical play, as you hoped, but consequently with classical Cheuhn.

And you didn’t understand a single line!

You learned the entire Wikipedia pages about it as about the theater you came in to info dump Thrass and impress him but you didn’t understood a single word. You spent the whole play typing feverishly on your questis to translate the lines in common Cheuhn while Thrass tried really, really hard not to explode laughing. But he mastered the neutral face of the politician man long ago, he simply didn’t control the trembling of the rest of his body.

Thrass sighs, satisfied under the artificial sun of Csaplar.

“It was a really good play”

You sniff, sad to not have enjoyed the play as you hoped you would.

“I am really glad you liked it.” You respond.

“A bit too didactic to my liking, but nice nonetheless.”

You turn your head to him, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

“We studied this play at school, I already knew it.”

You open your mouth in shock and suddenly your body slumps, completely demoralized.

“I am sorry Thrass... I just thought-”

You cannot finish your sentence that Thrass explodes laughing in the middle of the street, hands on his knees. You look at him absolutely dumbfounded by his reaction.

“What?”

He tries to stop laughing, to no avail.

“I am sorry! You appeared so distraught back inside, you were trying so hard to follow the play!” He manages to say between two fits of laugh. He coughs to force it to stop, “Hum! I am sorry (Y/n), but it was really endearing seeing you try so hard.”

You purse your lips, embarrassed. You saw him casually cover his mouth, hiding behind a relaxed position, his legs crossed and his elbow on the armchair, trying to not look in your direction to not explode in the middle of the play.

He straightnens his back, raising back up with one hand on his stomach and a big smile on his face.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... It’s been a while since I laughed like that! Thank you (Y/n), it was very much needed.”

You readjust your purse straps on your shoulder, trying to put up a front.

“You’re welcome.” You mumble, cursing the heat spreading to your cheeks.

He wipes the tears off his cheeks.

“Come on! We need to take a tube car for my activity.”

He starts to walk away from the theater in the Tube car station’s direction and you begrudgingly follow, ashamed and disgraced by his reaction, measuring how much of a fool you must be in his eyes now...

Thrass instantly notices you’re not walking next to him and turns to you, a simple smile on his face, detailing your expression.

“I am sorry (Y/n), I shouldn’t have laughed at your efforts.” He says softly, “I am glad you took an interest in our culture to try to take on such a classical piece. If you wish I could break it down with you later and explain its cultural significance to you.”

You raise your head to meet his gaze.

“You would?’

“Of course. Come with me now...” And he gently takes your hand to guide you to the station.

-------------------------------------------------------------

You squirm, uncomfortable but trying your very hard to not show it. Next to you Thrass takes another sip of his tea, appearing fully at ease.

He brought you to an entirely new neighborhood. You walked in cobbled streets for an hour after the tube car, he generously asked if he could take your high heels to make it easier for you and you daringly said no.

You lasted 15 minutes before your heels started to poor blood and you had to stop at a pharmacy to dress you.

“Again, I am sorry.” You said pitifully.

Again he tried very hard not to laugh.

“It’s all right (Y/n).” He responded with a smile threatening to stretch his lips.

You finished the route with your shoes in hand, band-aids covering your heels. The cobblestone was warm to your skin and smooth, without asperities that could slash your feet. Thrass walked next to you, hands clasped behind his back, explaining to you the intricacies of the architectural style of that neighborhood.

It is apparently a perfect reproduction of the “old city” of Csaplar underground full of wooden structures and buildings.

You entered a small building to change into a kimono and enter a salon opening on an inner courtyard garden with a pound and large trees. Two rooms away you could hear traditional Chiss music, giving the place an elegant and serene atmosphere.

You imitated Thrass, sitting on his heels in front of a woman in the same position. The tea ceremony lasted more than two hours, in the exact same position, unmoving.

It was difficult for you, but you held on, you embarassed yourself enough before Thrass for today.

Once the woman finished preparing tea she rose on her knee to pour it in your cups. You both bowed down deeply to her, thanking her. She disapeared, leaving you two alone to savor your hot tea.

You sigh deeply, trying to keep the numbing sensation of your legs in check as you sip your tea. You desperately want to unfold your legs but greet your teeth.

“It is delicious, isn’t it?” Thrass finally asks, visibly satisfied by his tea.

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, “It has a lot of flavor!” You try your best to not let your pain reach your tone. That’s not really a success.

“I always loved tea ceremonies... They are peaceful and meditative.”

“Thrawn told me that.” You smile, laying down your hands with your cup on your legs, “He told me you introduced him to proper tea art for his 29th Starday!” You reveal, too happy to find common ground with Thrass thanks to his brother.

“Ah, he remembers this day then.” He notes with a little grin, “I never saw someone hold this position as well as him. I always left with terrible pain in my legs.” He winks at you.

You flush and let your gaze fall on your cup to not meet his inquisitive red eyes.

“I always thought that tea ceremonies are telltales of characters.” He tells you pensively, his eyes detailing the scenery of the garden.

“Really?”

“Indeed. They put your patience to the test, and require good etiquette and politeness, good taste and culture. I can tell a lot of things about someone by how they sit on their heels and wait for their tea.”

You gulp, suddenly apprehensive. Is your attitude correct, is your demeanor polite and dignified enough for such a place?

“You did good, do not worry.” He reassures without even looking at you. He just knew the questions gnawing at your reason.

“Phew... I am relieved.” You sigh, letting your shoulders fall.

“Careful, the ceremony isn’t finished yet.” He lets you know.

You immediately straighten your back and stiffen your shoulders, on edge once again. Thrass cannot help but chuckle once again.

“I appreciate you, (Y/n). You make me laugh, I like that.”

You turn to him, in surprise but full of hope.

“Really?” You cannot contain your enthusiasm.

He nods peacefully, taking another sip, slowly savoring his drink.

“Yes. You work hard and are mindful of people around you, you're driven by your will to learn... Those are really important qualities, and I appreciate them in my entourage.”

You purse your lips for a split second.

“Would you not like me if I failed at the ceremony?”

“I never dated someone who failed at the ceremony.” He reveals, “I discovered that I am incompatible with such characters.”

You nod slowly, feeling like you almost fucked up!

“And your brother likes me!” You add, trying to smooth your portrait even more.

Thrass puts his cup down, laying his hands on his legs.

“Yes. That is another good point in your favor.” He concedes, “Thrawn is another excellent judge of persona, and he deemed you trustworthy wich is why I accepted the idea of this date with you.”

Thrawn played matchmaker?

Did he...

You flush terribly, wich doesn’t escape Thrass.

“Is something wrong?” He worries.

“Did he... Did he reveal to you what I told him about you?” You ask, barely able to look in his direction.

“No, he did not.” He reassures you, “He told me it wasn’t in his right to do so and that he should let you express yourself.”

You sigh, relieved.

“Do you wish to speak to me about it?”

You start but calm down.

“No... I am not yet ready to reveal it.” You admit.

It is too soon for your heart to admit your love to Thrass, you would go into cardiac arrest!

“It is quite all right. We will have plenty of other times together for you to tell me...” He smiled softly.

Full of promises.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

#thrass x reader #thrass x f!reader #thrass x you #thrass #mitth'ras'safis #thrawn #thrawn ascendancy #fanfic #vibratingskull

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krakenguard · 6 months

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The difference between us fic writers is, we write about all manner of nasty things. But we also tag them as a means of warning readers. If the work contains something I don't want to read about, I don't read it.

In the case of Our Flag Means Death: There was no tag warning about the death of a major character. But I learned about it through other people.

So with that in mind, I will not continue my viewing of the show. Because I honestly don't want to see this character's death.

I hope it DOES continue onward. Maybe Izzy WILL be brought back through some miraculous twist of fate. Or maybe it's wishful thinking.

But, as it is, I am putting this story down... Our Flag Means Death ended with La Vie En Rose.

#ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #I'm trying to rationale the difference between us fic writers vs. David Jenkins and his show.#We tag our stories because we honestly don't want our audience to get upset.#Compare and contrast Izzy Hands getting killed off and therefore upsetting a lot of people.#I'm glad I read into spoilers because I don't want to see this character die. So I'm doing the rational thing and stopping myself.#I have a lot of thoughts. What happened. How people reacted. How I personally feel...#The creator should not get harassed for the decision of killing off the character. Likewise there is no shame in walking away from the show.#But this does tie in with the argument of tags on... Like... AO3.#THIS IS WHAT TAGS ARE FOR. This work might contain upsetting material. If you don't want to read to read it this is your chance.#And there were no tags warning me of Major Character Death.

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wizardnuke · 2 years

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what's funnier for a meet-ugly fic. if it's a meet-ugly from the start ("we first met each other in a holding cell") or if it starts cute ("my grocery bag tore open on the street and they helped me pick everything up, also I got their number") and then gets ugly ("I didn't call them because I was busy and five days later we met again, in a holding cell")

#warning. long tags that got wildly off topic real fast. there's caleb meta in here #I think it's the difference between them being like 'huh. who's this guy' and the spiderman pointing meme #fic im writing doesn't have this thru a ship lens but it has a similar thing except like. it's a meet ugly where they don't exactly meet #but they see each other #smash cut four years later spiderman pointing meme in a holding cell YOU. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE #pov you're trying to convince everyone you're interacting with (while in the holding cell) (well. a dungeon) that you're an assassin from #another country but your mother in law is in the next cell over and she CLEARLY recognizes you and does NOT believe the show you're #putting on because context from the prev time you were around each other states you are not loyal to that country and that you are also a #lying liar who lies shamelessly at the first chance you get if you think it'll get you what you want. and it's making shit complicated #because she visibly wants to ask questions about why the hell you're here but you're under surveillance so she's just staring holes into #ur skull and she doesn't know she's your mother in law. this is the funniest thing I've ever written #it's a HARROWING experience for caleb in the fic. he is terrified out of his mind. but also. it's so so funny. my guy why did u do that #'caleb is a master manipulator' common misconception! he is a conman and scammer! he wishes he could operate on pure unfeeling logic and #intellect but sometimes and even oftentimes he is made of 80% panic minimum and then he commits to the bit #it's a very nuanced complicated situation etc etc but honestly a large part of it is also deirta being like what the fuck is this guy's #plan. why the fuck is he even here. and caleb's internal monologue is 'do NOT accidentally call her mother. do not do fucking not' which #is if anything making it more difficult to not call her mother. big fan of the way he refers to elders with titles I 100% think he would #call her that if he and essek were officially together. 'caleb has good social skills and awareness' common fucking misconception he is a #conman and scammer and knows vaguely what to say to get what he wants or more often how to direct attention away from what he's doing but #when he's just Being Caleb he gets to the fuckin point and that lady is his mother in law and he would refer to her as such even if #that's. a fascinating choice to make given everything about essek and also the lingering political situation between the empire and dynasty #I love caleb sooooo much I think he makes a good few snap decisions that are objectively DEEPLY unhinged and I think abt that a lot #calebs not a stable guy! I think it's rlly interesting how not stable he is even when he's doing well he has a few screws loose up there!#this is coming from someone who can relate to the irrational thinking that mental illness does I think he just sees point A to point B and #Does Shit. that's why he fireballs people when he knows it's going to trigger him. it's why he told essek to get it together instead of #killing him- he saw an ally. his morality and his decision making skills are removed from normal logic bc fuck normal logic he's caleb #widogast (sometimes- he goes by a fake name and considers himself entirely seperate from bren while he also holds himself accountable for #the crimes that bren was manipulated into committing) and its why he's Like That and I think he's neat.#I'm done now. what is this.

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crossbackpoke-check · 9 months

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Okay so this is gonna sound very unhinged

But the screenshot you posted of the doc for Omega Yamo had text

And I may have zoomed in and been able to decipher the words

And I’m obsessed with there being more than one Alpha in that scenario

And I think you’re a genius and I love your writing even though I probably wasn’t supposed to be able to read it

Again I’m sorry for being so insane but I couldn’t help it 🙃

SCREAMINGGGG anon i am in love with you. i appreciate the level of unhinged sooo much, the only thing you have to be sorry for is inflating my ego to an enormous size

howmstever!!! i may have tricked you!!! there are actually two omega yamo fics in the works 🤐🤫 they just happen to exist in the same document right now because ??? why not

#until one of them gets enough words to kick the other out they will coexist peacefully &i will hop between them sooo chaotic &unproductively #i keep typing things and then redacting them about the other omega yamo fic for literally no reason like. i’m telling you about it??#it’s not gonna be a surprise??? but for clarity’s sake they are not related to each other/in the same universe #and yes one of them does have multiple alphas 🤭#both fics are incredibly self-indulgent (and by extension incredibly For Y’all in my inbox) like it is just y’all 🤝 me 🤝 omega yamo #also to the other yamo/nuge anon please do not fret i see your message!! it is in my inbox!!! i just have been keeping it there #so that i can look at it because it makes me happy and also is very good motivation 🥺🥰😭#do i have a tag for omega yamo??? do i need a tag for omega yamo???? at this point probably yes #liv in the replies #i am being soooooo normal in this message and i feel like i should tell you that irl when i read this each paragraph was my jaw dropping #and then i sat there and 💕🥰🦋💗 <- shrieking for like. five minutes while trying to type. what an honor #the!!! highest!!! compliment!!!!#once again reiterating though i am so slow at writing 😭 however!! i am planning to wrap up with apps & coursework next week #& if i don’t pick up an insane amount of shifts in the four days between moves i want to write sooo much. in so many different documents 🫡#bro ALSO??? i just went to the screenshot to see what you could’ve read out from the ask and do you got eagle eyes or a magnifying glass or #how tf did you read that. what witchcraft did you work to make my blurry ass picture readable zoomed in &can i have it bc i’m using this now

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themirokai · 11 months

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I got this comment on a story from my Other AO3 Account this morning.

(Info redacted because I prefer keeping these accounts separate but no one follows me on the side blog I have for that account.)

The story was posted almost a year ago and is relatively “popular” by my average statistics even though it has tropes and themes that are big turnoffs for a lot of people (hence separate accounts). This popularity is undoubtedly because it’s a Marvel Loki story and that fandom is massive.

So there is obviously an algorithm or a bot scrubbing ao3 statistics and leaving this comment on fics that meet a certain metric with the main character of the fic inserted into the comment.

I had a little time to kill this morning so I decided to investigate further. And y’all this is so predatory. Come on this journey with me. It made me mad. It may make you mad.

First, if you go to Webnovel’s website, you HAVE to choose between male lead or female lead stories before you can go any further. WTF?

And that’s weird, but this gets so much worse. This is basically a pay-to-read site that has different subscription models. Which… okay BUT! The authors don’t get paid! Look at that comment again. They’re promising a supportive and nurturing community, but zero monetary compensation. It’s basically, “post your stuff here so we can get paid and you can get… nice vibes?” I mean look at this Orwellian writing:

Using the phrase “pay-to-read model” in the same sentence as “qualitative changes in lifestyles for authors” deliberately makes you think that you can get paid and maybe even make a living on this website. But that’s not actually what it says and authors will not receive one red cent.

Oh but wait, the worst is still to come. In case this breaks containment (which I kind of hope it does) this is where I mention that I’m a lawyer in the US.

I don’t do intellectual property or copyright law but I do read and write contracts for a living. So I went to look at their terms of service. It was fun!

Highlights the first, in which Webnovel gets a license to do basically whatever they want with content you post on their site. This is how they get to be paid for people reading authors’ writing without paying them anything.

Highlights the second, in which Webnovel takes no responsibility for illegally profiting off of fan fic. This all says that the writer is 100% responsible for everything the writer posts (even though only Webnovel is making money from it).

Highlights the third which say that by posting, the author is representing that they have the legal right to use and to let Webnovel use the content according to these terms. So if a writer posts fan fiction and Webnovel makes money from people reading the fan fiction, and the House of the Mouse catches wise, these sections say that that’s ALL on the writer.

So that’s a little skeevy to start off with but the thing that is seriously shitty and made me make this post was that these assholes are coming to ao3. They are actively recruiting people in comments on their fan fiction. And they are saying they are big fans of the character you’re writing about and that they share your interests.

They are recruiting fan fiction writers and giving every impression that you can make money from posting fan fiction on their site and hiding the fact that you absolutely cannot but they can make money off of you while you try, deep in their terms of service which no one but a lawyer who writes fan fic and has some time to kill will read.

I see posts on here regularly from people who don’t understand how this stuff works, don’t understand that they (and others) can not legally make a financial profit from fan fiction. And there are tons of people who will not take the time to dig into the details.

Don’t deal with these bastards. Fuck Webnovel.

#went down a rabbit hole #got mad #webnovel #this is a scam #how to ao3 #fan fiction #please spread the word #long post

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princessbellecerise · 4 months

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Size Difference

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which Coryo has a size kink

warnings | pure self insert, smut, size kink, short!reader, mentions of tummy bulge, creampie, i need a little wawta after this one

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Coryo loves how short you are

He loves the sheer power that he has over you, being able to bend you and fuck you however he wants

You have little say in what he does to you because he’s just so big that he engulfs your whole body. Not that you mind, of course

He loves how it adds to the power dynamic between the two of you. Because you’re shorter, it makes him look more powerful. More in control

His favorite thing ever is when he has you underneath him, at his mercy while he drives in and out of you

He likes to take you face down, ass up and he always likes to have a hand in your hair

It drives him crazy to hear you moan for him, drives him crazy when you tell him he’s too big

It strokes his ego in a way that he needs it, he needs to hear you say how good he fucks your little cunt

And it’s not enough to take you from behind, either

Sometimes, Coryo likes to have you facing him, on your back so you can see just how good his fucks you

So you can see the way your tummy bulges, the way your cunt strains to take him

He fucking loves it

He loves wrapping a hand around your throat and fucking you stupid, or making you suck on his fingers

Sometimes, he’ll kiss you on your forehead and whisper in your ear how you’re such a good girl for taking all of him

His favorite line is, “That’s it, pretty girl. You can take it. Fuck—your cunt takes me so well.”

And when you squeeze down on him and cum around him, he lets out the most shameless moans, filling you to the brim and then pulling out to watch the way his cum spills out of you

He’s not very romantic, but he does like to cuddle you because it feels like he’s protecting you, in a way

And if another man, god bless his soul, even tries to flirt with you, he immediately backs off once he sees Coryo’s frame towering over you and him

He loved how intimidating it makes him look, and how it makes people think twice before messing with him—and especially you

#tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow

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libbyfandom · 5 months

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Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))

(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))

You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”

Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.

You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.

You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.

“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.

“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”

You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.

Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.

Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.

She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.

You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”

Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”

But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.

“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”

Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”

You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”

Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”

You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”

Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”

“He’s gross.”

She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.

“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.

You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.

She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.

“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.

She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.

The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.

She mumbles something.

“Mizu-“

“I wanna do that.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”

“I want to cum inside you.”

The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.

Holy shit.

Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.

And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.

Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“

Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.

“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“

Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.

“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”

Holy shIT-

“Mizu-MIZU-!”

Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.

And very, VERY drunk.

She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”

You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.

But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.

Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”

Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.

Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”

Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.

“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.

Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.

“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.

Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.

Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.

You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.

She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-

“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“

You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.

SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.

You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.

“Baby.”

Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.

“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.

Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.

And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Please?”

She’s pleading.

What the fuck was in her whiskey?!

“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”

With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.

You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.

"Say yes..."

Click!

You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.

She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.

Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“….Wait…?”

“RINGO HELP!”

In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.

“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”

You nod, “That sounds good."

You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”

She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”

Several loud crashes in the kitchen.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu smut

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thebimbopalace · 9 months

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DRUNK ‘N NASTY

ੈ✩‧₊˚toji fushiguro x f!reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc: 2.4k

✧.*blurb: After coming home tipsy from a night out with your girlfriends you needed Toji badly. Whatever you need, Toji is willing to give it to you. Especially if what you need is his cock.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ | established relationship, drunk sex (reader is tipsy), raw sex, alcohol mentioned, petnames (baby, sweetheart, princess, pretty girl), degradation (slut, whore), oral (m. receiving), fingering, cowgirl position, dirty talk, nipple play, use of good girl, spanking (ass, thigh), daddy kink (sry i had to), choking (fem. receiving)

a/n: this is my first time writing a full fic, feel free to comment feedback on how i can improve for future fics or comment your thoughts on this fic. Obviously there is smut under the cut so if you are under 18+/an ageless blog DO NOT interact or be blocked!!

“Toji”

Nothing.

“Toji, wake up” you say as you tap your boyfriend on his shoulder. Every time you went out with your girlfriends you always had a great time and plenty of drinks.

When you finally came home you slipped your heels off at the front door, stumbling your way upstairs. Opening your shared bedroom door, you see Toji sleeping peacefully on his stomach with the blanket pulled up over his body leaving more than half of his muscular back exposed. The sight of it rising in sync with his breaths made your body heat with arousal.

Whenever you drank the strong liquid, it always made its way to your cunt leaving you a horny mess. A mess that Toji was always willing to clean up. “Baby, please wake up” you whine making the man next to you stir. Finally, Toji wakes and turns over on his back with one arm behind his head and the other reaching for you, while staring at you with sleepy eyes.

You almost feel bad for waking him up, just so he can fuck you. Almost.

“You’re home,” he said while rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. “Did you have fun sweetheart?” His voice sounds rougher since he’s coming out of sleep. The sound of it making you rub your thighs together, something Toji took notice of. “I did,” you say as you lean over and start kissing down his neck. “Missed you Toji,” you say in between the kisses you were trailing down his neck leading to his chest. His chuckle turns into a groan when you begin playing with his nipples and softly moving your hands over his chest and abs.

Toji’s cock begins to harden in his sweatpants at your movements. He knew that when you went out with your friends, you would come home tipsy and begging for him to fill you up with his big cock. This time was no different, except for the fact that he wanted to catch up on some sleep since he just came back from a work trip, which also feeds into your need for a fuck. But, seeing you all needy and doe eyed made his need for sleep go away.

With you still placing kisses on his neck and chest, he takes his hand and gently cups the nape of your neck then guides your mouth onto his. The minute your soft lips met his slightly chapped ones you instantly melted into the feeling. You tasted like vodka and… strawberry, from your lipgloss Toji thinks. The kiss started slow and gentle, but the sounds you were making drove Toji crazy causing him to devour you like a man starved. You slung your leg over him and made your way onto his lap so that your clothed cunt was on top of his bulge.

Now seated on his lap, you began to grind down on him making the man groan into your mouth. Toji raised his hand and slapped your ass making you gasp, which made it easier for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. “Mmmm,” you whined making the man part from your lips. “What is it, baby?” He asked looking up at you. “I need you Toji.” The man below you looked at you with enough lust in his eyes to make your skin feel like it was on fire. “Need what, princess?” You knew what he was doing. Toji loved hearing you beg and tell him all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you to fuck me.” You took his hand and placed his middle and ring fingers into your mouth and began sucking on them. The sight made Toji’s cock twitch in his pants. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “Uh huh,” you mumbled while shaking your head up and down for further confirmation. Toji snaked his other hand around you giving you light teasing smacks on your ass making your cunt clench around nothing.

“You’re such a needy little slut for me aren’t you?” Toji asked. “Jus’ for you” you answered while his fingers still filled your mouth. “That’s right baby. Now I need you to get my cock nice and wet so I can fill that pretty pussy. Can you do that for me princess?” Toji asked while guiding you off his lap and placing you right in front of his clothed dick straining in his sweats. “Yes.”

Overcome by the sudden need to feel him in your mouth you pull off his sweats first, followed by his boxers causing his cock to spring out and tap on his lower abdomen. Taking your hand, you lifted his cock and let your spit drip onto the tip. Using your hand, you spread the spit onto his cock jerking him off before placing the head of it into your mouth. Toji moaned at the feeling of your hot mouth sucking his sensitive cock head. It wasn’t long before you got into a rhythm and began enthusiastically sucking him off.

“So good princess f-fuck.” “Keep going just like that.” Toji moaned while putting his hand on the back of your head to encourage you further. Your movements were sloppy but, the look in your eyes and the smile you had on your face while sucking on his balls was enough to make him cum in your mouth. But Toji didn’t want that to happen. He took the hand that was on your head and threaded it through your hair pulling your mouth off of his cock. You gave him a confused look to which he said, “if I’m gonna cum it's gonna be inside you, not in your mouth.”

Toji took your hand making you crawl onto his lap. He gently pushed you back so you were sitting on his thighs, exposing your panty covered pussy to him. He guided his thumb along the obvious wet spot there humming in approval. “Did sucking my cock make you this wet baby?” He questioned. You were so sensitive that the slightest touch to your cunt, made you tremble with need. “Yes” you said breathlessly. Toji kept playing with your pussy through your panties making the wet spot on them grow. With you in a tipsy haze and being unbearably horny, the teasing was proving to be too much for you. You needed Toji, and you needed him now.

“Toji fuck me p-please” you moaned bucking your hips hoping his fingers would give you the friction you craved. “In a minute princess. I need to stretch this cunt out so you’ll be able to take my cock, don’t wanna hurt you.” He said. You felt a quick slap on your thigh, warning you to behave or he’ll prolong the torture. Not wanting him to punish you, you just sat there and took what Toji was giving you. You were being such a good girl for Toji that he finally pulled your panties to the side showing off your glistening cunt to him. Strings of your arousal were connecting your panties to your pussy, making Toji’s mouth water. “Fuck your pussy’s so wet. ‘Bet my cock would slide right in won’t it?”

Toji lightly grazed your clit with his finger, making you jolt from the sensation. He added pressure to your clit and began making circles on it, causing you to sigh out in relief. You closed your eyes, the feeling becoming too much too quickly. Toji then took his free hand and eased his middle finger into your cunt. The stretch made your eyes snap open and you let out a string of moans. Slightly after he inserted his ring finger, and began slowly finger-fucking you.

“You’re so wet for me princess.” The feeling of his fingers slowly massaging the inside of your cunt was making it hard to form thoughts let alone words to say to Toji. “You hear that baby?” he asked as he started to move his fingers in and out of you faster, just so you could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making for him. “That’s what I do to this messy cunt.” Your skin began to heat with embarrassment as you looked away from him, trying to mask how much his words turned you on. “Look at me sweetheart” Toji commanded. The sternness in his voice made you look at him directly in his eyes, letting out a satisfied hum he says, “there’s my pretty girl.” Toji loved seeing you like this. Watching you become a brainless slut for him was something Toji truly cherished during these moments.

As Toji kept finger-fucking you while still doing circles on your clit, you felt your high approaching. “You’re gonna make me cum Toji” you moaned out. “That so?” While shaking your head up and down you whimpered out a “yes” while Toji’s movements never ceased. As you felt your orgasm coming on, your legs began to spread wider just as your hips began moving in circles. It was getting harder and harder to control the sounds that were spilling from your mouth. You were going to cum, and you were going to cum hard. Just as you were about to topple over the edge and descend into bliss, everything stopped.

No No No. You looked at Toji who was staring at you with a shit eating grin on his handsome face. “That’s for waking me princess.” You felt your orgasm disappear and the unshed tears that were in your eyes began to fall. You were frustrated at him, but so fucking turned on by what he was doing to your body. “So mean” you slurred, looking away from him again. Toji placed his had around your neck and brought your face close to his, so he can give you a kiss full of saliva and tongue. Once he pulled away he chuckled saying, “you like when I’m mean though.” The hand that was on your neck moved down to your tits gently massaging them, to your waist picking you up so you were positioned right above his cock.

“I want you to ride me pretty girl. Think you can do that for me?” Instead of answering him, you grabbed his hard cock and rubbed the tip up and down your slit before slowly sitting down on it. You were so wet that there was barely any resistance, which made his cock go in and out of you easily. The feeling of his fat dick filling you made goosebumps rise on your skin, it felt so good, he felt so good. You continued to bounce on him, the pleasure was so intense you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to, which you definitely didn’t want to do that. “You feel so good daddy” you moaned. Toji placed his hands on your hips holding you in place so you can stop your movements. “What did you say?” You and Toji have talked about using that name during sex. It would always be on the tip of your tongue but you just never got the courage to say it, until now.

It’s the alcohol talking you think. But It doesn’t matter. Calling Toji daddy just feels natural.

You took his hands that were holding you in place and moved them slowly up your body while also grinding down on him. Placing one hand on your tit and the other around your neck. “You feel so good inside me daddy,” you expressed while giving him a seductive smile. You felt his cock twitch at the use of the title and something inside Toji snapped. He took the hand that was on your neck and pressed down on the sides making you whimper at the feeling, he then moved the hand that was on your tit and quickly placed it on your ass where he delivered hard spanks while fucking up into you. “Such” *smack* “a” *smack* “fuckin” *smack* “whore” *smack* “for me.” Each slap he gave to your ass made your pussy clench hard around his cock. “Yes yes ‘for you only for you!” you cried out. To add to your pleasure, Toji took one of your nipples into his mouth and began sucking, and lightly biting it.

The feeling of his hot mouth on your nipple was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “R-right there daddy p-please.” He reached down towards your ass to spread your cheeks apart, making your cunt spread as well. Deep, he always reached so deep inside you this way. “Riiight here baby?” Toji said as he adjusted his hips so his cock was hitting your g-spot perfectly. “Yes yes yes fuck fuck Toji!” Your orgasm started building, after all the teasing and all the good fucking this man was giving you, you were finally going to cum. “I want you to cum for me princess” that’s all you needed to hear before you came hard, all over his cock. “F-fuck daddy I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming!” You basically screamed. Your cunt began to tighten and contract on Toji’s cock, making it hard for him to move inside of you. You threw your head back, the force of your orgasm making you see stars behind your eyelids.

Toji moved your hips in circles, grinding your clit just above the base of his dick, which prolonged your orgasm. “Atta girl just like that, keep cumming just like that baby, that’s my good girl.” Finally coming down from your orgasm you put your arms around his neck and began placing kisses on there. Whispering in Toji’s ear you said, “please cum inside me daddy please.” Everything slowed down and you wanted nothing more than the man below you to fill you up with his cum. With one hand on the nape of his neck, you trailed the other down to his nipple and gave it a quick pinch. “Oh fuck” and just like that Toji came with a loud groan as your name fell from his lips.

Once Toji came down from his high he leaned in and gave you such a soft kiss you barely registered that it happened. The way he can go from fucking you rough and hard to being sweet and loving made you dizzy. During the kiss, Toji was drawing circles on your back which made you clench around his dick which was still inside you. He pulled away from your lips and let out a hiss at the overstimulation. “Sorry,” you giggled to which Toji replied with a light smack on your ass. “Is that what you needed princess?” You let out a yawn sleep overtaking your body. “Yea. Thank you daddy” you sleepily said. Laying you down on the bed Toji pulled out of you and walked to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up. The last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep was Toji softly saying, “You’re welcome princess.”

mdni banners by @/cafekitsune

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji x you #toji #dilf toji #toji zenin #fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut

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shmpxx · 9 months

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NOTHING BUT A BULLY — g.s

⛤ bully! gojo satoru x fem! reader

you’re a victim of gojo satoru and his annoying tactics, it’s hard getting away from him but probably not this time.

cw. smut. mentions of non-con(photo taking). dub-con. virginity loss. oral (f.receiving). creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. dacryphilia. breeding. public sex. overstimulation. 18+!

wc: 2k

a/n: it’s been a minute bc I’ve been picky on what i write and i got inspiration from bully!gojo fics I’ve read so I’m writing this one!

Something about you was different, in a way that gojo couldn’t stop teasing you, he could never get bored even if you wished and prayed there be a day where he grew tired of poking at you.

He purposely trips you down the hallways or acts like he doesn’t see you and intentionally shoves you with his shoulder. Makes derogatory comments about you where he makes sure you’re listening. Stealing your lunch which he probably doesn’t even eat, he just wants to make your life miserable. Slaps your books out of your hands and watch you pick them back up while he chuckles to himself, if your lucky geto would be there and help you and excuse gojo’s actions. He would also secretly takes pictures under your skirt of your panties probably jerking off to them later.

He does get a little jealous when he sees someone else talking to you, he’ll always come around throwing his arm over your shoulder or even pushing you forward.

You tried to avoid him as much as possible, when you see him you try to walk the other direction he was coming from. He always know you try to avoid him as well and sometimes he still catch you. “Trynna hide from me?” He deviously smiles.

It wasn’t that he hated you, he just loved to tease and make fun of you. He made sure of that when you were both alone in a classroom.

He had you sitting on a desk with his hand slipping past your skirt to grope your thigh and ass. He grins to himself spreading your thighs for him to get in between them as he hungrily kissed your lips. His other hand on the back of your neck preventing you from pulling away from him even though you tried, fingers tugging on his shirt for desperation of air.

There wasn’t a day where every time he saw you, he thought of kissing you and touching you indecently. Now the time has come. His sexual fantasies of you are finally coming true.

Why were you letting him do this to you? After months of bullying and torture, you were letting him do whatever he wanted and you didn’t know why.

“You don’t know how much i wanted this” He moved down to your neck, ravishing your neck not caring that even after people would see the marks on your neck only to embarrass you.

You jolt when you feel his fingers press against your clit behind the fabric of your panties.

You kept thinking to yourself, you should stop this now. You can’t have gojo satoru control you like this. Not here.

“don’t want to anymore-“ you let out.

You pull away seeing his face in a pout expression, “aw don’t be like that” He moves your panties to the side, spreading your folds apart before entering his two fingers inside and feel the stretch of your walls by the intrusion of his fingers, letting out a cry and cling onto him. Your muscles tightening around him by the weird sensation he brought you.

“Your so tight, i bet your a virgin huh? Saving yourself for me right?” He whispers into your ear whilst pumping his fingers into your hole.

His fingers curl into the right spongy spot inside you making you wail loudly, smirking to himself watching your aroused expressions.

Looking at you as you were such a inexperienced sweet thing he loves that he’s toying you like this.

he speeds his pace faster into your cunt with also his thumb rubbing circles on your clit bringing you a whole new sensation you never felt before, you feel the tears breaking through your closed shut eyes. The tingling feeling bubbling up inside you, you didn’t know what that was, afraid of it.

“No! No! Wait-” you beg with a moan, you were about to reach something. Reach something you don’t know of and you felt complete emptiness. You were confused.

His drenched fingers covered in your arousal left your hole, instead gojo hooks onto the elastic of your panties and strips them down but you stop him from doing shaking your head no.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good?” He tilts his head at you.

“I..” you didn’t know what to say, your cunt feeling in ache of touch again but realization hit you that your in a classroom doing such activities in public.

“You want me to make you feel good right?” He stills brings your panties down dangling off your one ankle.

Apart of you wanted to say no but without thinking he had you wrapped around his finger like you were entranced that you nodded yes that got him smiling from ear to ear.

“I know you feel sore don’t you? I can kiss it better” Subconsciously you leaned back onto your palms when his hands under your thighs pushed them up more for him to gain more access as you watch him dip his head between making your heart ponder at your chest.

You whimper feeling his lips giving you a gentle kiss on your clit and started off with soft kitten licks on your cunt.

His lips latching onto your clit, sucking and licking your sensitive area. The same feeling building up inside you again coming much faster than before causing you to break out a moan.

Giving him the signal to bury his tongue deep inside your walls and give you a hard suck one last time before you start feel an rippling pleasure throughout your body. You feel as if the air ultimately left your lungs and you try to catch your breath.

Gojo licking the creamy substance that came from you from his lips and your cunt, not even giving you a break to let you calm down and your clit becoming sensitive spasming uncontrollably from his tongue and your legs became like jelly. You try to buck your hips away from his mouth but you were to weak to do so. Letting out sweet sobs.

“sweet angel being so good for me” he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip leaning in to kiss you again.

Without a warning from him, you break away from his lips feeling the tip of his leaky cock rubbing between your swollen folds.

“Gojo-“ your hand on his shoulder stopping him from going any further.

“Just relax angel—if you let me, I’ll let you call me satoru” as if it were a deal for him to take away your purity.

Half of his cock disappear inside you, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as you clutch onto him for support, dipping your face into his chest and his shirt damp from your tears. It was different from his fingers, his dick was pushing aside your walls. An inch of pain engulfing you but only for a few seconds.

“Sweet thing it’s not even all the way in yet”

“Ah! Gojo! I-“ his hips slamming into you. Not giving you time to adjust his rhythm already being so rough. You can’t think other than him being so thick and how far he’s reaching deep inside you making your head spin. He was so hard too and impatient he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Please—you’re too rough” As if he would listen to you. He thrusts into you hard, skin slapping against each other, the sounds of squelching from your sobbing cunt and his cock bullying your walls you might end up in the shape of him. Your body bouncing and your breath hitching every second from his aggressive thrusts.

You wanted him to be gentler though did you want this at all? Your mind still can’t comprehend anything other than the sweet spot he hits repeatedly. You cry and whimper into his shoulder making cute noises to gojo’s ears, holding onto him as you heard him grunt and pant into your ear.

“Who knew a slut like you could be enjoying this?”

“That’s not—ah!” You couldn’t get your words out without being interrupted by each moan you kept choking out.

Gojo couldn’t get over the way you squeezed him tight every time he pushed in and out of gummy area, your hot soft walls. You were full of warmth and wetness, making his dick twitch already. Even the way you cling onto him and cry into his chest by the overwhelming pleasure was so cute.

He can even see the way you move against his hips knowing your so desperate for it and enjoying it even how many times you try to deny it he knows.

“I’m gonna cum inside okay? I want to so bad need to fill you up”

“No—don’t! ah!-h, don’t wanna-“ the familiar tingling came back again yet you felt as if you were gonna cum much harder than before. His hips hitting you faster at a brutal pace, his hand grabbing behind your lower back to pull your hips closer to his to hit deeper inside your cunt, his tip almost at your cervix you might go dumb.

“Can you imagine having kids together? wouldn’t that be nice?” Carrying a child of your bully would be the last thing you thought of.

Shaking your head no he is quickening his pace and his slams his hips on his last thrust, emptying his hot load into you as you also reached your second orgasm much harder than before, your gummy walls contracting around his girth. Your body trembles and you sob loudly tears damping his shirt at this point feeling full and warm of his cum in your tummy.

He pulled out and cum leaked from your hole dripping onto the desk. “aw your letting it all spill”

Your body goes limp and he decides to flip you on your stomach onto the desk, your ass hanging in the air though you feel as if your about to fall apart. He smiles to himself watching his cum stream from your cunt like it was his masterpiece. it was too much already but gojos hands finds your waist, you whine feeling pressure and his cum gush out, sticking his erect dick once again inside you. “I miss your pussy already and plus i want to cum inside you again and fill you up a little more, just be a good slut like you are okay?” He squeezes the plush of your ass.

“Gojo no-“

“Satoru…you earned it now and you earn a little more—hah” already thrusting inside your abused swollen cunt. It was so easy for him to slide in again and how you still feel so warm inside just how he likes it.

“Sa-toru” you moan and whine water filling your eyes and soaking your lashes. “I love it when you say my name” his voice in a raspy tone, throwing his head back, pleasure engulfing him whole. His essence oozing onto the floor.

He grabbed your thigh lifting your leg up for him to gain more access more control, you were onto your side holding onto the desk preventing yourself from slipping off. He just continues tormenting your body, reaching towards your clit and his thumb putting pressure onto it. You couldn’t do nothing but cry out, you were so overstimulated, you were weak and now his thumb adding a more electrifying sensation and you were about to achieve your third orgasm.

You would consider this torture, it was too good to handle at all once. Your head spinning, your out a breath only to make small noises.

“I’ll try to make this quick, just for you sweetheart” he continues his frantic thrusts, rubbing your clit in rough circles, your eyes roll back in too much ecstasy you were basically drowning in. He loved watching you all fucked out, his cock plunging you every second.

He finishes up and cums into you one last time, fire pooling low into your abdomen. Another warm load filling you up making you fuller, Gojo thinks to himself that this would not be the last time he will have you.

You thought gojo would change a bit towards you, that was a lie. The next day your shoes are missing and you can hear him laugh from the hallway down. You hate yourself for liking someone like him now but you can’t help it, you know he is just using you as his little toy and also messing with you at the same time. From your missing shoes to him freeing his cock and pressing it against your lips on your knees.

#jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #satosugu #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

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I've always found it hard to find the right words for comments, but I used to try and put down something on all the fics I liked but after seeing what some of my writer friends, who are fairy popular in their fandoms, say privately in the groupchat about some of the comments they get, I can't bring myself to leave any comments at all any more.

I know it's a form or unloading where they can salt without hurting anyone and I generally think that's a good thing, saltmates are needed so you can talk about all the crappy annoying things in fandom in a private space and not spread shit on tumblr or ao3 etc.

But It's so so disheartening to me as a comment shy reader because it's never good enough. If it's just emoji hearts or someone saying "second kudos" it's too short and worthless. If it's epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing, then it's too much and annoying.

I just don't understand, I don't write myself, I draw, badly, and I never get the kind of praise they sometimes get, but I would LOVE to have some of those things said about my work.

I love my friends a lot and I'm a firm believer in saltmates, but it makes me a little crazy and very paranoid to see the difference between what they say in private and what they actually answer to the comments in public on their fics.

I've read a lot here on tumblr about how fic writers love ALL comments etc etc and a lot of tips and tricks for people who have problems leaving comments, but I dont trust that now and I never comment anymore because I do not want a writer of a fic I love to think such things about me, even if it's just in their minds in private.

Do I have extra salty friends or is this a common thing among writers that no one wants to admits out loud?

From my experience, as a writer in fandom on and off for 20-ish years and as the mod of a comment-positive fandom ask blog, your friends are extra salty.

Have I heard people get frustrated with "I liked this!" comments? Sure. But for every one of those, I hear at least 10 people who are giddy and bouncing and just over the moon that someone liked their fic. I've never heard anyone complain about "epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing." Most fic writers I know would probably pass out from happiness if they received one of those.

I don't know your friends, of course, but it sounds like someone in the group got a little toxic at some point and the rest of them went along, for whatever reason. Maybe burnout was a factor. Maybe they had a specific thing they wanted to get from their comments section that they weren't able to receive. Whatever the cause, the effect on you is bad.

I know you didn't ask for what to do about this, but I'm going to lay it out for you anyway:

stay in the group chat and feel worse and worse about every comment you've ever left on a fic

say something to your friends and ask that they have those conversations when you're not around (your choice if you include the part about it being because they make you feel bad)

leave the group chat and maybe also lose those friends

None of those options are great, but your current situation already sucks so it might be time to try something new.

I'm so so sorry that they made you feel like your comments weren't enough, anon. You don't deserve that. No one does. I hope if those authors see this ask that they pause and reflect and realize the audience they were speaking in front of.

I agree that people need a place to be salty, and I appreciate them doing it in a private space - but it wasn't private enough. ❤️

#asks and answers #long post

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meiieiri · 3 months

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𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

#geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto angst #geto x you

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mockerycrow · 10 months

Text

Emergency Contact (1/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)

>> emergency contact concept here << PART TWO HERE!!

Summary: Simon is your roommate, and you haven’t seen each other in months, considering Simon’s job. An unfamiliar number pops up on Simon’s phone, and answering it makes his world turn upside down.

A/N: How you two moved in together is very vaguely inspired this ghost fic right here. please give it a read! If you finish the song above, I highly recommend listening to the entire album while reading. i’m not the happiest with this, but i’m happy enough to post!

[WARNINGS: Blood and injury, traumatic events/trauma brought up, gore, little comfort, medical inaccuracies, tbh ooc simon but it’s ok.]

Eight months, thirteen days, and nine hours. That’s how long it’s been since he’s been home, since he’s seen you. That’s how long he’s been stuck on base, or thrown into a foreign country to complete some mission, or to gather some intel, or to kill someone, just somewhere, anywhere but with you.

Eight months, thirteen days, and nine hours. That’s how long it’s been since you softly asked him to stay as safe as he can, and to come back alive, and to come back with at least eight fingers. It was a running joke between you two, a way to relieve the terrifying reality of his job; as long as Simon came home alive and with majority of his fingers, he could consider it a job well done. You didn’t know much of his job, of course—only that he’s military, and he’s gone a lot. You already guessed it was a lot of classified stuff, probably down top secret government type of things. That did make you scared, though. You didn’t want the day to come, the day where people in fancy uniforms show up at your doorstep like you’re some widow. The thought of someone informing you of Simon’s death makes your stomach twist.

Eight months is admittedly a long time. Simon.. he missed you, but he’s rather die that verbally admit it, but he sure as hell felt it. He missed the way he could hear you walk through the house, the weight of the floorboards creaking up your feet. Simon missed walking by the bathroom and the air vaguely smelled your shampoo and body wash, a clear indicator you had just taken a shower. Simon missed the way you carelessly have your shoes next to the shoe rack, not even on it, and despite his annoyance of your laziness? He misses it every single time he’s away. He never really realizes the difference of living on base versus being home with you, and he’s comfortable in both environments for completely different reasons. Simon is comfortable with you because you’re safe, you aren’t associated with anyone he has to deal with on a near daily basis. You don’t scan the kitchen to see which household items could be potential bombs in the vicinity like he does. On base, Simon finds comfort in the familiarity of being constantly on alert, the need for a gun to be against his hip—it’s not the best, considering he’s in fight mode majority of the time, but it’s comforting. It’s familiar. It’s.. home, in a way.

You and Simon call at least once every three weeks—it’s not more because you’re both busy, you have your life to tend to while he has to do something like protecting an American Embassy, or sneaking into a compound to retrieve some vital information. You two talk about all kinds of things; you complain about the neighbors for the nth time, or you talk about your job, just something that he hasn’t heard about in a while. Simon.. he’s limited on what he can talk about—what he wants to talk about. It’s a bit difficult, keeping details of his job hidden away from you. He also keeps you hidden away from them; his team. Price vaguely is aware of your existence, but all he knows is your name and your phone number—someone to alert when he eventually would pass away.

It surprised Price when he requested access to his own file to make a change. Simon went for years without anyone in that section, leaving it blank—and then suddenly ‘[Name] [Last Name]’ is written down, along with your phone number. Simon doesn’t want to die somewhere and then you sit at home, dreading the fact that you haven’t received a call from him for over six months. Other than that, no one is aware of your existence and he wants to keep it that way. It keeps you safe, and he doesn’t want the one thing he has going in his life to be taken away from him—not like everything else has been.

No, you and Simon aren’t together. You just are the one constant he cannot allow to die. How you and Simon became close was rather funny, really—before you were roommates, you bumped into each other at the local stores, the bank, even several public spaces like parks and such. You didn’t see him too often and you weren’t aware on why, but you didn’t really wonder why either. By this point, you knew each other for a couple of months. He introduced himself as SR—not Ghost or Simon, but as SR. You didn’t bother to question it because this tall, bulky man seemed like he was trying keep himself as anonymous as possible. Without fail, you always saw him wear dark colored clothing that hid any identifiable markings—tattoos and scars, that kind of thing. He usually has his hood up with a black face mask covering his nose down, but you do know one thing—he has to have bright blonde hair. Why else would his beautiful eyelashes and eyebrows be that bright? It would catch your eye every time you’d see them. Sometimes you would see him with a beanie on and the mask, with his hood down. This wasn’t too often, as it exposed some scarring he has on the back of his neck, as well as his forehead. This also silently lead you to believe he has a tough past of some sort, which is confirmed when you run into him somewhere you never expected to—your therapist’s building. You bumped into him right outside, and you apologized profusely before looking and going silent as you made eye contact.

A silent agreement was made between you two that day, one that you could never put into words. Something in that moment that dragged you two closer together. You had been through some shit in your life, shit that had permanent effect on you, shit that you wanted to work through. It was horribly tiring, but you knew you needed to work through it—so you could live a life you felt was worth living. Simon, was on the other side of the spectrum. He didn’t want this. He never wanted to tell anyone about anything, but Price, Price fucking made him. Simon spends his days and nights plagued with nightmares and memories—he’s woken up in the middle of the night enough times to know that he needs help, but he was so adamant about not talking to anyone about it. But seeing you there? Someone who he hasn’t known for long, someone who had always greeted him with a smile on your face, laughter spilling from your beautiful vocal cords, and someone who doesn’t touch him without permission? It made him so angry and hopeless about this world. Not even you, a stranger who he sees as the best human being he’s known in a while—despite not knowing you for long—could escape from the cruel and sharp jaws of the world. You found out you two accidentally scheduled the same days, so it became an unspoken agreement to wait for the other outside of the building so you can both go in. Even when you weren’t sure when his next appointment would be, you’d be right outside of that building, waiting for him. You would always be right there, and that’s something he quickly learned.

You lost your house to a fire, everything went with the burning embers that raged inside of the 4 walls of your previous home, the structure collapsing in on itself. You had gotten out in time, and you numbly watched the fire roar, the crackling burning it’s memory in your ears. The piercing sound of different sirens were approaching, but all you could do is stand there with your phone in your hand, watching the home you worked so hard for burn to the foundation built years ago. You felt a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t bother to turn to see who it was. Everything was going so slow, almost like a movie scene in the worst way possible. Your nostrils burned from the smell of burning wood, drywall, and installation. The hand squeezed your shoulder and you slowly looked at who it was—and was him. Simon. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes ever so slightly panicked and it was obvious he was asking you something, but you didn’t hear him. All you could focus on was that he was here. You blinked rapidly as your eyes began to burn from the smoke and from that choked feeling going from your chest to your throat. “I..” You croak ever so slightly. You couldn’t hold it back—you quickly grabbed onto Simon desperately, letting out a heart-wrenching sob because you just lost everything you owned, every memory, every piece of furniture, everything.. but he was here. He was the only thing was wasn’t crumbling away from your grasp, the only constant. Once you clung to him, Simon’s senses were flooded with you. Fuck, your touch burned, just like everyone’s else’s but he liked—no, loved how it felt. Despite the image of a burning house in his wake making dread bubble in his gut, your sobs and touch were the only thing he could focus on. Simon hesitates for only a second before pulling you into his personal space, his arms wrapping around you and weighing heavily on your body. Neither of you spoke, he just let you scream into his chest and sob, your fists gently banging against his chest—the anger, the sadness, everything was too much. Simon knew exactly how you were feeling, so he didn’t mind the twinges of pain your hands produced. Simon was the one who helped you while you chatted with the paramedics and the police. He was the one who helped you find your words when you had none left to share, the smell of the smoke imprinted on your clothes.

Without question, Simon took you to his house. He did not have another bed set up, so he had you sleep in his room while he slept on his couch. He hated the hollow look your eyes held, the way you were delayed with your answers, the ways your hands shook. Your everlasting smile had dissipated into a wobbly frown and he.. Simon couldn’t handle it. He grabbed you some of his clothes and helped you into his bathroom, quietly telling you to take a shower. He’ll take care of your clothes. Simon left you alone, and you showered for a long time. He didn’t count, but it was over an hour and a half. Simon didn’t say anything about you possibly racking up his bill, how could he when you had just lost everything? He wanted to.. to help you, and he wasn’t sure why. Even when he found himself scrubbing your smoke and tar covered clothes in his kitchen sink, he couldn’t find an exact reason why he wanted to help you. Maybe it’s because you made him feel human when he needed to be, maybe you were the one thing that kept him coming back to this town, the one thing that kept him from completely pulling away from the civilian world. You had found him in a corner like a dog, lips curled back and snarling—sharp teeth clashing together, and without a word, you gave him reasons to trust you. Although they may not be.. normal reasons to the regular eye, but they were enough for Simon.

You’re enough for Simon. He scrubbed your clothes until his arms burned, and then some.

That’s when he found out that you too, were also someone who could not stay asleep for long. When Simon awoke with his adrenaline pumping from the muffled sound of vomiting, he had to calm himself down because he’s safe, and you’re safe, most of all. Simon isn’t sure when he began to think that way, but it’s one of the many things he’s decided to not question—which also new for him. Simon is man who demands answers, yet with you? it’s like everything naturally falls into place, which is why he doesn’t complain when your stay at his house—which you swore would only be until you gathered enough money for an apartment—turned from a two week stay, to Simon carrying in an IKEA bed frame to put and assemble in one of his empty rooms. Many sleepless nights came and went, and each and every one you spent them with each other, sitting by a windowsill together, other times spending it in the backyard and looking at the sky. Sometimes you would wake up first, sometimes it would be him. You somehow always knew when he had woken up from a nightmare, his heart pounding in his ears—until your hands grab his and squeeze, to ground him. You burn him, and he welcomes the tickle of your ever-glowing flame. A year into this arrangement, Simon finally shows you his face and he appreciates that you don’t look at him any different. He usually hates the searching eyes, trying to memorize every inch of his face—but he’s greedy when you do it. When your eyes roam over every scar and acne scar, when you point out his messily cut hair and half-assed shaven stubble, he doesnt get angry. Simon doesn’t feel suffocated by your glances. He doesn’t wear his mask at home anymore, not when you’re there.

Then Simon gets the notice about his three month leave ending soon; and he knows that you need to know about his job. Or at least, the bare minimum you need to know. In reality, it’s how much he wants you to know, but he doesn’t want to admit that. He sits you down one morning, a cup of tea in his hand and he had a mug of your favorite morning drink on the other side of the table he had bought a few weeks you started staying here. Simon explains that he has a job in the military, that he can’t tell you much, but it means he’s going to be gone for weeks, even months at a time. You’re at a loss at first, because who is going to have an extremely positive reaction to “by the way, I work an extremely dangerous job and I can’t tell you anything and I’ll be gone for a while.. Oh yeah, you likely won’t know if I die!”? Despite your initial reaction, you grow to be okay with this situation. Or, we’ll, as okay as you can be with it. You also find out that he was here for way longer than he originally is, due to his boss demanding him to take a break—AKA, “go to therapy you dafty”.

For a little over two years, you two fell into a good rhythm. A call every three weeks, him coming home and you becoming the safest space he’s ever had in his life.

Which is why when his personal cell phone begins to vibrate in his pocket during some fuck-all meeting, his eyebrows furrow. The number is unfamiliar, but the area code is not. Simon quietly excuses himself from the extended round table, taking his call outside of the meeting room. Price’s eyes follow his figure as he exits, noticing it’s his personal cell phone in his hand. Simon answers the call and presses his phone against his masked ear, muttering a low, “Hello?”

A high-pitched, soft yet serious voice filters through the speaker, a woman. “Hi, is this Mr. Riley?”

Simon pauses, and so does his heart. “Who’s asking?”

He honestly regrets asking that in the moment—one part of him genuinely wishes he never answered this call, and the other part of him is glad he did. “I’m a nurse from Northern Manchester Community Hospital, you’re written down as [Name]’s emergency contact. They’ve been a victim of a hit and run situation, sir. They’re alive, but they’re in the ICU.” The nausea that suddenly bubbles inside of his guys, the stomach acid mixed with whatever he had eaten previously, threatening to travel up his esophagus, burn every inch and then exit with a horrific sound. Simon’s head began to spin—he’s your emergency contact? A hit and run, you were fucking hit?? By what, a car? A pick-up? A semi? God, Simon has seen the most horrible, gruesome, fucked up shit you would ever see in his entire life, yet he isn’t sure if he can handle the image of you spread out in a hospital bed, with one too many tubes circulating around you. His mind plagues him with intrusive images, ones he never wants to actually see played out. Fuck, his head hurts. It feels like someone is physically shoving a knife into his chest and twisting it, like God is laughing at him and playing with Simon’s pain for his own gain. How could he not think that, especially with everything that has happened to him? His friends, his family? His old CO? The fucking abuse he endured??

It’s like Simon lost his hearing for a moment, because he cannot bare fucking losing you, too. There’s a vague ringing in his ears, almost like there was an explosion and he stood too close. And then suddenly every sound comes rushing back to his eardrums, and everything suddenly everything is so fucking overwhelming. “Mr. Riley?” The nurse calls over the phone, her tone laced with worry. He clears his throat and when he speaks, he sounds wrecked, which he fucking hates. “I.. I’ll come as soon as I can.” Simon hangs up, not giving the nurse a moment to speak. He drops his phone and if he doesn’t sit down, he’s going to fall over like a tree that’s been cut down. Simon lets out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way his stomach is screaming and twisting as he puts a hand on the wall, and he crouches down. It’s the first time he doesn’t look around to see if anyone is watching his sudden display of emotion. When he’s suddenly rocked with the feeling of home at work, especially with the news that you’re fucking injured—he’s overwhelmed and twisted all over the place. Simon finds himself stumbling back to his barracks.

Price finds his way to him after Simon never returns to the meeting. He knocks on the door, but his knuckles pause before they can knock against the door for the third time as he discovers the door is open—which is very, very, odd. He slowly opens the door while calling for Ghost, and is met with the sight of Simon shoving some of his clothes and belongings into a duffle bag, as well as his military travel documents. “Ghost?” Price questions, who stopped in his doorway to watch Simon lose his mind while packing. Simon doesn’t respond as he practically rips his phone charger out of the wall and stuffs it into the bag, zipping it up. He slings it over his shoulder and he turns around, pausing when he sees Price. Simon’s eyes tell everything he’s feeling—that something’s happened, something bad, and he needs to leave. Price bites his lip and quietly exhales, his fingers rubbing at his chin. “I’ll approve your leave. Just shoot me a text of how long it needs to be, yeah?”

Simon makes sure to note to send Price a thank you of some sort, because within the next two hours, Simon is boarding a plane, heading for Manchester, wearing some black clothing, a jacket, a black face mask, gloves, and his beanie. The entire time, he could not stop thinking about you—and how you could possibly die before he got there to send off his final goodbyes. Is that something he would actually want to do, though? See you in the hospital, knowing it’ll be the last place you’d ever be alive in? Go home, see how you left the house exactly as you left it? A house, but without his home in it? Simon stares out the airplane window blankly, his hands curled into fists, and his nails would be digging into his palms if he didn’t have gloves on.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

The next part for Simon, it’s a blur again. Got off the plane, got his luggage, provided documentation, blah blah blah—he didn’t give a fuck about any of it. His focus was you. He didn’t bother to stop home to drop his stuff off, he took an Uber straight to the hospital from the airport. It was a fairly expensive Uber too, but he could worry about the costs of everything later. It took another half hour to get there.

His heart began to hammer in his chest as the sight of the hospital’s signs began to pop up on the road, the anxiety taking hold in his stomach and his head begins to hurt again. Simon quietly thanks the driver, tips them, and exits the car with a swiftness once they pull up. Simon walks through the main entrance’s sliding doors, going up to the desk. A woman behind the counter hangs up the phone, murmuring a goodbye, and then she looks at Simon with her pretty blue eyes. “How can I help you, sir?” She murmurs sweetly, noting how anxious he is. She can see the sweat on his brow line. Simon clears his throat, his voice rumbling in his chest when he speaks. It takes everything in him to not yell at this innocent woman and get thrown out. “My.. My name is Mr. Riley, I was called ‘cause my friend is here,” Simon manages to push out. “[Name] [Last Name].” The woman turns to her computer and clicks the couple of buttons and types a couple of words and holy fuck, Simon just wants to go to your wing already—“Ah, yes, I see you’re listed as their emergency contact,” The woman grabs a sticky note and writes with a pink pen your room number and elevator floor, handing it to Simon. He barely gets a “thank you” out before he nearly jogs to the nearby elevator. Fourth floor, room 283. Fourth floor, room 283. Fourth floor, room 283—it’s the longest minute long elevator ride in his entire fucking life.

Simon changes face masks whilst facing the wall, and then he finds your room number—and his heart is beating out of his chest. There’s cops standing outside of your room who stop him from entering. Simon’s anger flares up so quickly, he nearly makes a scene until a doctor exits your room. She’s wearing her usual blue scrubs, her coat, and she’s dawning a N95 and some sterile gloves. She’s holding a clipboard. “Mr. Riley?” She questions, holding the clipboard close to her chest. Simon nods without hesitation, and she responds, “I’m sorry, but due to the nature of this case, you’ll have to provide some identification for me and these officers.”

Usually, Simon would hesitate—he gives anyone outside of his team the bare minimum, hell, he only introduced himself as SR until he knew you for a while. This time, he takes out his military ID and shows it to the officers. He ignores their looks of surprise, and ignores the murmurs that come from them. Simon puts his ID away and he holds back the urge to shove them out of the way as he glares down at the doctor on accident. “Come in,” The doctor opens the sliding door and steps into the hospital ICU room with him. Simon follows behind her and he immediately smells the sickening smell only the ICU gives off. There’s a small wall blocking his view from you that he hasn’t past, and he can already hear the machines working. A heart monitor, a ventilator, combined with other machines he doesn’t know too well. The doctor flips through the papers pinned to her clipboard. “They were hit by a vehicle of some sort, the scene suggested they were walking home from the local corner store. [Name] has multiple broken bones and fractures, a punctured lung, a fractured jaw and internal bleeding. They lost a lot of blood at the scene.” Simon doesn’t respond as he slowly walks forward, and he finally lays his eyes on you. It’s.. traumatizing, to say the least. You were never supposed to be in a hospital bed like this, hooked up to machines he can’t even name. He slowly walks over to you, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. He doesn’t care to look where. Simon barely pays attention to what the doctor is saying—his hands tremble as he stands by your side, his heart thumping harshly in his chest. Fuck.

He drags over one of the chairs next to your bed. Simon takes off one of his gloves slowly, and then he tears the other one off in a frenzy. He feels so unlike himself, so.. different.. human. He reaches over to your hand and his fingers grab your wrist, so gentle as if you’re glass. Simon presses his fingers against your pulse point, counting your heartbeats despite the monitor. The thumping under your skin makes it more.. real. Feeling you, your heartbeat, your warmth and your skin—it’s comforting. Simon clears his throat and fights the urge to vomit once a gain, watching your chest rise and fall, produced by the ventilator.

He moves his hand to intertwine with your fingers and he uses his other hand to feel your pulse. Simon closes his eyes, muttering the beats per minute under his breath.

At least you’re alive—you’re here, you’re alive, and you’re with him. And that’s all he asks for.

tags;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja — if you are not tagged, it’s not allowing me :-)

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diedoverahat · 5 months

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can you write a smut fic with mike x reader where he eats you out?? thank you!!

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Eating In (It's good for you)

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: mike is a munch always why would i write anything else???

warnings: 18+!!! NSFW!!! MDI!!! oral sex (f!receving), fingering, squirting (kinda?)

word count: y'all already know 1.3k+

authors note: you guys really speak my language. the beginning of this got a lot fluffier than i was expecting lol still filthy though. 18+ content mdi!!! hope you love it anon mwah <333 also pretty sure i flipped flopped between perspectives sorry babies i'm dumb

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it's no secret that mike lives for eating you out. he could live between your thighs if it was up to him, spending hours drawing out those desperate noises from your lips when he does that thing with his tongue that you love.

the feeling of your hands tugging his hair and your thighs tightening around his head because you just feel so good make his eyes roll back in his head every time he thinks about it.

tonight was no exception, but it was a little different.

as soon as the two of you put abby to bed he was on you. pinning you to his bed as you lazily made out, grinding against each other in slow relaxed motions.

“baby,” mike breathes between kisses, “can you do me a favor?”

you hum in acknowledgement, not wanting to pull away from kissing mike enough to reply.

mike chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss to nip teasingly at your lips. “i want you to ride my face.” he whispers dirtily, licking a stripe over your lips.

mike watched as his request sinks in, your eyes widening and mouth dropping open just a bit. “mike…” you whisper, he can hear the hesitation in your voice. he can’t have that.

“come on baby, please?” he pleads, moving his hands to rub soft circles into your hips. “you’ll love it, baby. i’ll make it so good for you.”

mike can see the moment your pupils completely dilate, fully swallowing your iris’. your chest heaving as your adrenaline kicks up.

after a beat, you nod slowly. your soft “okay” barely audible, mike grins like he just won the lottery.

“well hop on baby,” mike says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “we don’t have all night.”

mike pulls away, falling on his back on the bed. laying his laced hands on his stomach, waiting patiently for you to give him what he wants.

he waits as you take a steadying breath, gathering up the courage before you rise up and start to shuffle over to him. mikes hungry eyes watch you swing your leg over his lap, making your way up his body.

you stop short, sitting on his stomach with a timid look. mike places two grounding hands on your hips, squeezing them reassuringly.

“you have to tell me if i’m smothering you or something. i don’t need to accidentally kill you.” your hands fidget with the waist of mikes pants nervously.

“what a way to go.” he says wistfully, a dopey grin on his face.

you let out a small laugh, trying and failing to hide your smile. “you’re such an asshole.” you reply, pinching his chest teasingly. your tone is too fond to hold any actual malice. mike laughs back.

finally, you start to shuffle higher up his torso, but he stops you holding your hips in place. “other way, baby.”

it doesn’t take a lot of brain power to understand what he means. you let out a soft moan, a shiver wracks your body. pleasure zings up your spine at how filthy this is.

it’s a little awkward, but you manage to swing your legs around so you're facing the rest of his bedroom, not just the wall. from this angle, you can see how his dick is tenting the front of his loose sleeping pants, a wet spot forming near the tip.

you still only hover over your boyfriend's face instead of truly sitting, scared of hurting him. mike decides not to say anything, too preoccupied with the view directly in-front of him.

“fuck,” mike whispers hotly, staring up at your clothed pussy makes his dick twitch. baby pink lace darkened by how wet you are. he leans up slightly, running his tongue over the rough lace still covering you.

"shit...mike," you shudder, legs trembling on either side of his head.

mike takes his time, laving his tongue over the soaked lace a few times, reveling in your familiar taste, but his patience wears thin. soon enough he's tugging your panties aside to get at what he really wants before returning them to your hips.

mike moans at the sight of your slick pussy, already so wet from his mouth. he can't help but softly run his pointer finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and using it to circle around your clit.

you moan softly, trying your best to be quiet so abby doesn't wake up.

mike stops his fingers assault on your clit, too eager to chase the sight of your convulsing pussy with his mouth, the tip of his tongue sliding easily through your folds. he groans, rubbing his face between your thighs, no doubt covering his nose and chin in the copious amount of wetness leaking from your pussy. he quickly gets lost in the feeling of tasting you, of licking and sucking at your clit making you moan and whine.

"shit!" you exclaim, pitching forward to steady yourself with your hands flat on his chest. the rough feel of his stubble scratching your inner thighs, most likely leaving red marks on the skin there. you hope it'll leave marks, that you'll be able to feel it every time you walk tomorrow, a reminder of what the two of you did tonight.

by now you're white knuckling the front of his shirt as you frantically circle your hips against his face, the bed squeaking quietly under your movements. mike spurs you on with small smacks to your ass, groaning into your pussy with every pass of his tongue over your fluttering hole.

you can feel the vibrations in mike's throat as he fucks you with his tongue, guttural groans making your thighs shake in an attempt to stay upright.

but it's just too much, the onslaught of his tongue making you forget all about your earlier insecurity, and you fully lower yourself onto his mouth too caught up in your pleasure to even hold yourself up anymore.

mike's eyes widen in surprise at you seating yourself on his face, moaning way too loudly at how hot it is to see you lose control.

"fuck! feels so good, mike," you slur, head hanging down to your chest, hair falling around your face. "mph- mike - ah, ah, ah,"

you realize you're going to come like this, riding mike's face like you're starved for it. you can feel it, the warmth settling deep in your belly. flames licking there way up your body.

mike realizes it too apparently, because he latches his mouth over your clit and plunges two fingers into your clenching pussy, thrusting them in and out quickly.

the lewd squelching noises that fill the room make your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“holy fucking shit! mike fuck!” you moan, trying desperately to control your volume. “i’m gonna come, oh fuck.” mike moans in respines, speeding up both his tongue and fingers.

the combination of mike’s tongue rapidly flicking over your clit and thick fingers expertly hitting your g-spot every thrust pushes you over the edge. one final suck to your clit has you coming all over mike’s face. drenching the lower part of his face in your juices and soaking up the dirty groans mike makes as he sucks up every last drop.

mike pulls away from you clit, and takes his fingers out of your pussy to let you come down from your orgasm. kissing across the inside of your thighs as you shake and tremble above him.

after a few shuddering breaths, you lift up and off mike’s face to collapse onto the mattress next to him. the two of you lay next to each other staring up at the ceiling, panting out wet breaths as you come down.

you turn to mike, his lips are slick and red. lower half of his face shining with your come, eyes half-open and hazy. you lift your hand to trial your finger down his body, making your way to the waist of his sleeping pants riding low on his hips showing off his dark happy trail. your hand slides lower to the ever still present hard-on tenting his pants obscenely, rubbing over his erect dick with purpose.

“your turn?”

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taglist!

@yuenity @ebodebo @mfdxz

#natalia writes!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #micheal schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #fnaf smut #smut

2K notes · View notes

sttoru · 28 days

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hueheueheu if its okay can i req rich bf aventurine? Always spoiling reader and buys everything she wants 🥹🥹

✸ SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend, aventurine spoils you in more ways than one when you come back to your shared hotel room in penacony.

note. uhh, this actually turned out a tad more melodramatic than i expected help, i put some of my own twists in there. first aventurine fic so sorry if its too ooc !

tags. aventurine x female reader. fluff, bits of angst, suggestive. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty’. use of aventurine’s real name once. reader is a bit insecure at one point. little bits of penacony and aventurine lore / subtle spoiler to the 2.1 quest. wc: 1.4k-ish

“c’mere, pretty.” aventurine’s voice soothes your weary body the moment you step into your shared hotel room. you’ve just gotten back from some business you had to take care of—a couple hours of your valuable day wasted because of it.

you’re greeted by your lover sitting on one of the red couches, accompanied by various bags and boxes all around the space. aventurine shoots you his signature smile. one that’s actually genuine. the one he only shows you.

“must’ve been tough, hm? i’m sorry i couldn’t help you out,” the blonde man sighs as he stands up to meet you halfway. a gloved hand finds its way onto yours, fingers intertwining without wasting a second.

aventurine places a delicate kiss on your palm and slowly moves down to your wrist. his beautiful eyes lure you in, “you’d forgive me for that, right?”

you don’t realise that you’re practically frozen in place until he chuckles in amusement. you snap out of it and clear your throat, trying to get yourself together, “y-yeah. i understand you’re busy ‘n all. it’s no problem.”

aventurine hums in response. there’s a faint flash of guilt in his eyes before it disappears like it was never there. like it was a delusion. well, perhaps it was. staying in penacony for too long causes you to have difficulties differing reality from dreams and vice versa.

“i’m happy to have you back with me,” aventurine pulls you closer by the small of your back. he presses you against him until your chests are touching. his breath is pleasantly warm against your bare skin, “i’ve been waiting for you all day.”

the tension in the hotel room is heavy. it’s like this every time you’re with your lover. the spark never dies between you two. it never will. you both need each other, in unspoken ways.

you avert your gaze to the ground. no matter how much time you spend with aventurine, his affectionate gestures never fail to make you melt into a puddle. maybe it’s in those eyes of his. or in his homelike touch.

aventurine continues peppering you with kisses. he doesn’t miss a spot—every patch of skin you’re showing is showered in his love. that’s one of the only ways he can illustrate those complicated feelings inside of him.

his lips eventually find yours, like a force drawn to a magnet. you cup his face and deepen the kiss. your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately. you need this as much as he does.

the way he’s holding onto your coat—his fingers digging into the material as if he’s missed you greatly. . . his tongue trying to seek entrance into your mouth as if he can’t wait to be one with you. to try and love you like you love him. . .

a light hearted chuckle makes you pull away. you open your eyes and find aventurine grinning down at you, his finger rubbing your bottom lip gently to tease you.

“haha, how cute.” the blonde man snickers at your needy expression. he knows what you want, and he wants it as well, though there’s enough time for that after, “we can get to that later, yeah?”

"aww, 'kay,” you nod with a pout, to which aventurine responds by gently flicking your forehead. he grabs your hand and leads you to the nearby table. you can’t even see the surface because of the numerous boxes placed on it.

“i want to show you what i got you first,” aventurine continues, sitting down on the comfy couch. he pulls you onto his lap and wraps one arm around your waist, the other one reaching out towards the mountain of fancy gifts.

you can easily recognise the expensive bags by now. aventurine is known for spoiling you rotten. the overpriced brands are nothing but child's play to the lucky man. money isn’t a worry to him, nor should it be for you, as he says every time you feel the slightest bit guilty for his big spendings on you.

“kakavasha..” you mutter under your breath. aventurine doesn't respond, but he reassures you by lightly tightening his grip on your waist. you turn your head and look at him. he isn’t looking back at you this time. rather, he’s looking down at the box in your hand, patiently waiting for you to open it.

you wordlessly undo the wrappers and open up the first gift of many. it’s an earring. one that resembles his. it shines brightly once you pick it up. the color is beautiful, as it reminds you of your lover.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to guess how much aventurine has spent on it either. you love him, that you surely do, but are you really deserving of this much? he spoils you every day. all that money he spends on you without hesitation makes you overthink.

you shake your head and try to get those negative thoughts out of your head. you don’t want to ruin this precious moment all too much. you smile fondly and put the earring on, “thank you so much. it's so pretty.”

the jewelry dangles off your left ear, the opposite of where aventurine’s got his hanging. the blonde man silently admires you. the light illuminating the stones gives you an ethereal look. especially in a dimly lit room with only a few light sources.

“no need to thank me, baby,” aventurine murmurs, his voice a surprisingly soft whisper. his thumb trails down the shell of your ear and eventually touches the earring again. the fact that you’re wearing the exact same one as he is, but on the opposite ear, is doing indescribable things to him.

you complete each other.

all his life, aventurine has never properly taken the time to appreciate his gift; his luck. he is doing so now—with you in his embrace. it’s like his surroundings have come to a halt. all that his eyes are focusing on, is you. the image of you in his arms.

“it suits you perfectly.” aventurine’s voice trembles lightly. he doesn't know why he's feeling like this. he’s overwhelmed by how lucky he is to have someone so breath-takingly beautiful in his presence. “gorgeous—you’re gorgeous.”

aventurine is not the only one who’s flustered. your own heart is pounding in your chest. your lover knows just what buttons to push to make you all flustered. he succeeds without fail every single time.

you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso. aventurine welcomes the affection without a word. you look up at your partner with a softened expression before complimenting him back, “no, you are. you are beautiful."

aventurine’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips parting. you’s aware of the effects your compliments have on him. they make him feel giddy, however he also isn’t the best at expressing that. he regains his composure and grins, “oh, really? hah, how flattering.”

you giggle quietly and nod. you’re content with this. being in your lover’s arms after a rough day, unpacking the many gifts he got you, receiving his attention and affection. you wish you could do this for eternity.

after you’ve shared your precious moment together, aventurine leans agains the back of the couch and pulls you into a warm hug. one you both simply had to have. your lover starts to pat your head in a soothing manner.

the silence in the hotel room is deafening. the opened gifts and abandoned wrappers lay scattered around the table and floor. the static of the television in the distance is somehow comforting.

both aventurine and you realise that this instant will be over as soon as the next day arrives. it’s but a fleeting moment, one that will sooner or later be just another memory. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and he answers this by kissing your forehead. his lips leave a tingling sensation on your skin.

the comfortable silence continues for a couple seconds more. aventurine stares up at the ceiling. he’s sure that he’s satisfied for now, yet there’s still unease boiling in the pit of his stomach.

perhaps it’s due to his knowledge of the near future. his grande plan.

but, that’s not what’s important. not when aventurine can feel and hear your heartbeat right next to him. he hasn’t lost it all. not yet. he’s still got time to spend with the other gift that was bestowed upon him at birth: you.

“you’ll stay with me, right? no matter what.”

aventurine’s sudden question breaks the quiet atmosphere. you open your eyes again and tilt your head back, gazing down at your lover. one look at his face and you know that he needs your honesty at the moment. more than anything else in the entire universe.

you nod and lean in to kiss him—to show him that you mean it when you say; “yes. no matter what.”

#sttoru writes.#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #honkai star rail x reader

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