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fushitoru · 3 months ago

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trouble a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bully!satoru gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an unexpected tutoring session with your bully satoru gojo leads to somewhere...unexpected

warnings ⸺ SMUT (MDNI), fluff, slight angst, college au, porn with really mid plot, bullying, humiliation, PANTY INSPECTION, p i v sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, creampie, he whimpers a lot but also degrades you a lot, gojo satoru king of dirty talk it might not make sense lolz, this is not edited in the slightest, didn't even do it a once over, implied that reader is a virgin but not really art by the goat 3-aem

a/n sorry for being so ia. will be answering asks after the ao3 author ahh events that went on this past week T-T as a result this is kind of mid, might delete later, based on this req

general masterlist

This could not be happening to you. NO, no, no. You must be dreaming, right?

Because Satoru Gojo was sitting right across from you in your math professor’s office, looking akin to a kicked puppy, ears drooping as your professor continued ranting about his late assignments, his efforts to cover his grades up, lost potential, laziness, how he should learn from you—but you were only dreading the aftermath of this conversation, when you were left alone with Gojo.

Because he was your college bully.

It didn’t get as violent as in those Asian dramas, but you were often left humiliated from the nuisance he was. For example, take the instance when you both first met.

Head deep in the textbooks you just bought, you were scanning the formulas in an effort to get ahead; after all, for someone like you—dependent on a scholarship to attend university—slacking off was not an option. Only for the nepo trust fund babies—which you were not. There, in the prestigious university you had fought tooth and nail to get into, you were at peace.

But it all went out the window as someone moved to tap you on your shoulder, making you turn your head towards possibly the most handsomest boy you’ve ever seen but undeniably a spoiled kid. Because what came out of his words were definitely grounds for sexual harassment.

“Are Asian people your type? Because I’m China get in your japanties.”

If crickets could make their way into the study room you were sitting in, their chirps would be LOUD. You blinked, heat creeping up your face as he leaned closer to your face, eyes flirtingly honing in on yours and your lips. Abruptly—-flustered—you stood up, gathering your belongings and apologizing profusely. “I”m so—sorry—I don’t—-you might be talking to the wrong per—” because there was no way in hell he was addressing you. From what you could see, he looked like a rich kid, the kind with a lot of money—something that could land you in trouble. You booked it the hell out of there, ignoring the confused look on his face and missing the disappointment flicker across it as he saw your retreating figure leave his sight.

And thus, your love story with Satoru Gojo—who you soon found out was the most popular boy on campus—started.

Small encounters with Gojo kept plaguing your first semester. They would be chance encounters, where Gojo would catch your eye in the middle of a crowd and make his way towards you, a snarky grin creeping up his face as he cornered you into a hallway with less traffic. Sometimes even in a closet.

It wouldn’t be anything grave, to say. All he would ask is how your day was, all sweet nothings and cute smiles made to woo you. And they definitely did—but you couldn’t let it show, couldn’t let him woo you.

“What’s your next class, baby?” The both of you were in a janitor’s closet, him having cornered you in the room and locked the door. You kept biting your lip nervously, the edge of it red and swollen as you peered at him somewhat nervously.

“Uh—I don’t know,” you whispered, darting your eyes somewhere on the floor, so he wouldn’t see the avoidant look on your face.

Let’s get the record straight: you weren’t scared of Gojo. Sure, at 6’ 3’’ with piercing, glow-in-the-dark sapphire eyes, he made you nervous, but you knew you could pine for him at best. Because god knows what would happen if you ever cross him or his dozens of fan girls, some with considerably more power than you on campus. Putting a target on your back while you were trying to graduate wasn’t one of your goals, but trying to pass your math classes with honors was.

And you hated the fact Gojo could read you like a book. Because in the cramped, dark space, his eyes were almost..soft as he put his forearm across the wall on top of your head, effectively caging you in as he steps toward you. You hug your big and heavy books closer to your chest, the squish of your breasts over your top not lost to Gojo who eyes them with lidded eyes. Then, they make their way to meet yours, and it’s like he can see the pining in your eyes. The fact that he’s a carrot dangled in front of your head, something you want but if you ran, you would never have him. A perpetual race to make him yours.

He smiles, gives a soft chuckle. “You don’t know?” he teases you and your blatant lie. “C’mon, let me walk you there.”

But you blurt out an immediate “No!” and then regret it, because hurt flashes across his face. “I mean–” you falter, “please don’t. You’ll be seen publicly with me.”

A quizzical look, one that is so innocent that it makes you want to cry, because how could Gojo ever understand your problems? “What’s the problem?” And then he pouts. “You embarrassed of me?”

“No–no—” you shake your head, squirming slightly from where you were both standing. “It won’t be good for you, for me.” Then, you swallowed, waiting and screening for his reaction.

Praying to whatever gods that were listening to you that he would understand, it seemed that they were answered because an emotion you couldn’t place etched its way on his face until he nodded. A resolute one, yet something that made you a bit…uneasy was in his eyes. Because it meant nothing but trouble.

Then on went your days. Seven days, in fact, because it only took a week for you to be walking across the hallway, daydreaming about a boy without a face cuddling you in the winter, eating cookies in Christmas. You hated being single and hated the fact you were confined to your academic responsibilities; quickly, your professors caught onto your potential, assigning you to tutor your peers during recitations. You preened at the attention and validation but felt lonely because it occupied all your time to catch up on others’ expectations. In your rumination of your upcoming responsibilities, you didn’t notice the hand shoot out and firmly grab your arm until you were in a janitor’s closet. Yet again.

Shocked, you resisted the unknown person who had led you in here, instincts flaring up until said person turned on the light.

Gojo.

“Gojo, what are you—” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, as Gojo had covered your mouth with his arm, one to avoid causing too much commotion before you were discovered there.

“You said no one could see us, right?” A mischievous—yet yearning—look flashed across his face and it was then you realized his play. “So this is okay?”

No, this stubborn man wasn’t going to let you go—he was going to torment you. In secret.

The only response you could conjure your brain was a whimper because a tentative hand was creeping its way up your thigh, softy caressing the insides of it. All you could feel was pleasure and how it was so right despite it being so wrong that Satoru Gojo, the campus sweetheart, had cornered you into the janitor’s closet to give you the most dizzying touches, some you couldn’t deny.

So when he moved his other hand that was at your mouth to grab at your pink skirt, he lifted the hem with both his hands and then paused. Looked at you with darkened eyes. “Let me do this.”

You could only close your eyes in your flustered state, pinching them shut as you gave him a slight nod. It only took him a millisecond to move, using both of his hands to uncover what was between your thighs, eyes focused and widening as he inspected your panties.

“Pink with hearts, huh?” You could hear the chuckle in his voice, the cockiness basically oozing out and you could only continue to heat up deeper. “I like it, baby.” Jumping as you felt his hands roam and trace the edges of your panties, he hooked his finger in the crotch, your thighs tightening slightly as his index just oh so grazed your bare folds as he pulled and pulled, until he let go of the tension and it snapped back in its place. “Look at me.”

As per his instruction, you opened your eyes, only to be taken aback by the intensity in his. Then, his lips moved. “Be my girlfriend.”

The moment broke as clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. “I’m sorry, Gojo, but—”

“Don’t call me that,” he groaned, stepping back and raking an arm through his hair. “What’s even your problem? Did I do something wrong?”

Incredulous, you utter out a “Something wro—you don’t think you did something wrong?”

He looked at you for a bit, made to say something, but you cut him off. “You know what Gojo? Get this through your head. We can’t do this. I don’t know how many girls fall for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” With that, you made to move, but he quickly reached out, pleading for you to stay. You wrenched his hand out of your grip and said, in the most serious voice you could muster, “Don’t ever talk to me again.” And you walked out, pretending you weren’t scared of what would happen after you retaliated against the Satoru Gojo.

Surprising, all went well for the rest of the semester. You did get some whispers and stares because of the stray rumor or two passing around about you and the mysterious instances when the campus king stared at your figure for a flicker too long. But it wasn’t nothing but passing because you didn’t share any classes with Gojo, and he respected your wishes. You didn’t miss the bitterness in his stare when you passed by his friend group in the hallway, speeding up to shake off the weight of his eyes on you.

So, you were at peace. Until second semester’s Calc III.

You soon realize that with gradients and vectors comes an additional burden, one specifically sporting white hair. Because as you’re pulled into your math professor’s office and see him, you oh so desperately want to book it.

“And this, Satoru,” your professor pauses and looks at him sternly while gesturing towards you, “is your ticket out of failing. Miss Y/N here,” he gives you a comforting smile, one that does nothing to ease the stiffness flooding your body at the thought of Gojo right next to you, “has the highest grade in the class. She’s a seasoned teaching assistant too, helping a lot of people in her classes next year.” You silently curse, your smile growing more strained as you realize Gojo’s looking at you. “I trust that you’ll be in good care.”

Once the professor finally dismissed you both, you braced yourself, shoving your notebook back into your bag with far more force than necessary. The prospect of *actually* tutoring Satoru Gojo—the one person who seemed hell-bent on making college a gauntlet for you—was absurd.

You didn't look up as you pushed past him, but Gojo kept pace, following you out of the office and down the hall with that easy, unbothered stride of his. "So," he drawled, “how's this tutoring thing going to work? Are you coming to my place, or am I coming to yours?”

You stopped, turning to face him. "My place," you said firmly. The thought of seeing him lounging in some flashy, high-end apartment was insufferable. Besides, at least in your dorm, you could set some ground rules.

He blinked, looking surprised. "Your place? Bold move, Miss Perfect," he teased, that trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager to have me over.”

"Trust me, Gojo, I'm only doing this because I have to. And there will be rules," you said, crossing your arms. "No messing around, no games—just math."

“*Just math,*" he repeated, his tone playful as his eyes glinted with mischief. “Got it.”

You swallowed, hoping he meant it. "Fine," you said briskly. "I’ll see you tomorrow at six. Don’t be late."

“Oh, wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, and with a little salute, he strolled off, leaving you with a sense of impending doom.

The knock came precisely at six.

You opened the door, and there stood Satoru Gojo, surprisingly punctual, hands shoved into his pockets and a playful grin on his face. You gestured to the small study area you’d set up by your desk, filled with neatly organized notes and textbooks.

“Take a seat,” you said shortly. “We’ll start with the basics.”

He slid into the chair, his gaze flitting from the textbooks to you, an amused glint in his eye. “You weren’t kidding about tutoring. You’re all set up like a professional.”

You ignored the remark and opened the textbook to the chapter on derivatives. “Alright. Let’s go through this. If you understand derivatives, the rest of Calc III will start making sense.”

For a while, he seemed to actually pay attention. He followed along, asking a few questions, which you answered as patiently as possible. But as the explanations went on, his attention started to drift. After one too many halfhearted nods, you frowned, putting your pencil down.

“You’re not even trying, are you?”

He leaned back in his chair, that smirk resurfacing. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting off the blush creeping up your cheeks. “You needed my help. I didn’t force you to come here. If you don’t want to do this, then—”

He held up a hand, the teasing gone from his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll focus.” He paused, then added, “In fact, to show you I mean it, I’ll do you a favor. Whatever you want. My way of saying thanks.”

You eyed him warily. “A favor?”

“Anything,” he said, leaning in with a grin that spelled trouble. “What’ll it be? An escort to class? Carrying your books around? Name it.”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” You’re dismissive, knowing he’s not that serious about this, playful about this like he is everything else.

He chuckled, nodding. “Looking forward to it.”

And with that, he finally settled into his chair, this time with genuine focus, leaving you both in the kind of quiet that held a new, unspoken promise—a favor, an IOU hanging in the air between you.

You don’t know how you ended up under Gojo on your bed.

Satoru sat close—closer than you’d expected. His knee brushed yours as he leaned forward to study your notes, and every few minutes, his arm would brush against your hand as he reached for the pencil you were using to write equations. Each little touch sent a jolt through you, and judging by the lingering glances he kept giving you, he didn’t mind it either.

“Okay, so the derivative here is...?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you pointed at the next problem.

Satoru leaned even closer, squinting at your notebook. “I think I get it,” he murmured, his face inches from yours, his breath warm as it brushed your cheek. But instead of looking at the math, his eyes flicked to yours, lingering just a second too long.

Your heart hammered as you forced yourself to focus. “Right. So you should get… uh… that answer,” you managed, feeling his gaze still trained on you.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, not breaking eye contact. His hand shifted on the table, the back of his fingers grazing yours.

You didn’t move. Neither did he. Your fingers stayed where they were, brushing against each other, the soft, deliberate touch making the silence between you feel louder. Finally, you broke the tension by clearing your throat, quickly pulling your hand away to grab a different textbook.

“So—um, yeah, you’re almost there,” you stammered. “But you missed a step here.” You pointed to another section, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight shake in your voice.

He noticed, of course. You could see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“Is that all I missed?” he asked, leaning so close that his shoulder pressed against yours. His voice was lower now, more intimate.

You nodded, trying to focus on the page but finding it impossible with him so close. “Yeah. Just… that,” you said softly.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice dropping even more as he shifted his hand, his knuckles brushing against your knee now. It wasn’t intentional—at least, you thought it wasn’t—but neither of you moved. You felt frozen, caught in a quiet, charged moment, where all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

You swallowed, forcing your gaze back to the problem on the page. “Maybe, um… maybe we should take a break?” you suggested, needing a second to breathe.

He tilted his head, an amused, knowing, intense glint in his eye. “A break sounds nice.”

Your breath caught as he looked at you like that, his hand still warm where it lingered just a little too close. And in that brief moment, you wondered just what kind of favor you’d end up asking of him—or what he might ask of you in return.

And it seemed like he knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he said oh so breathlessly, in the way that made you want to throw yourself at him yet simultaneously bludgeon his head in, “wanna fuck?”

You reeled back, incredulous, but he quickly grabbed your head with both his hands, gently drawing you in. “What?”

“I mean,” and he giggled, “what better use of a favor for than me to rid you of your virginity?”

You gasp, struggling in his hold to no avail. “Why would you assume I’m a virgin? I have plenty of experience, thank you very much—”

All the man does is snigger, despite your glare at him and looks at you, peering at you through his eyelashes with an oh-so-adoring smile. “It was clear how much you soaked through your panties that last time you’re a virgin, baby.” And you can’t help but whimper, reduced to a melting mess because of his sweet words.

He laughs meanly. “If you’re not a virgin, you better not be soaked right now, baby. I’m kind of excited to see what panties you’re wearing this time” He moves his hand between your thighs, and you pliantly spread your legs for him, clenching as his hands rove over your panties in between your skirt. And he’s right, because it’s almost like you’ve wet your panties with the way your slick was flooding out of you because of your proximity with Satoru. “Look at that,” he coos and he pulls his hand away, much to your dismay, to examine his fingers. They glisten vulgarly in the fairy lights in your dorm, and Satoru turns his head to look at you. “So you gonna let me fuck you?”

And that, dear reader, is how you find yourself face down in your plushies on your dorm room bed, clutching them for dear life as Satoru spews dirty talk as if he was born doing it. “Satoru, faster!” you sob, having gone past the initial discomfort of having something in your pussy.

“Satoru, faster,” he mocks you, grabbing your hips and drilling into your heat, groaning at how you’re just so tight. The tears flowing down your face make you even more beautiful as you succumb to your pleasure, one that no one other than Satoru has ever made you feel. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to fuck you?” You don’t answer past your moaning, and that annoys the fuck out of Gojo. He slaps your ass consecutively and can’t help but be more aroused looking at the red handprints he leaves. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you moaned, anything to stop his assault on your ass, “I wanted this is sooo bad.” At that—rather than being satiated—Satoru sped up, hitting your spot with the accuracy of a sharpshooter.

“Yea, baby?” He laughs, meanly, leaning down to grab you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. His fingers squished your cheeks, thereby pursuing your lips as he tried not to cum from the sight of your eyes rolling back with each stroke into you. From the way you were clenching and pulsing more regularly around him, he could tell you were close. “Gonna cum?”

You whined, nodding while sobbing into his hands, trying to focus on the feeling of orgasming. It was so close, you could feel it coiling in your belly—

Just for him to rip out of your cavern, leaving you in shambles due to the emptiness you were feeling. “What—”

He tutted, his hand now slowly stroking his cock while he was sitting on his knees, looking down at you. “I’m only letting you come if you agree to be my girlfriend.”

“Gojo, what—”

“It’s Satoru,” his eyes flared, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t noticed before. “And say it. Say you’ll be mine.”

For a moment, you searched his eyes for any signs. Signs of insincerity, of humor. But all you could find was desperation and yearning. Ever since you kept having your chance encounters with Gojo, you couldn’t help but deny the fluttering in your heart; the way his eyes unconsciously looked for you, a mere stranger he had taken interest in, in every crowd made you feel seen in a world where you were otherwise invisible.

And you couldn’t help but want to continue being in that world, in his world.

“Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll be your girlfr—”

Before you could finish, he smashed his lips into yours, joining them in a messy, wet embrace. His tongue explored your mouth in a way that made you leak even more while he aggressively laid back down on the mattress, effortlessly lifting you onto his crotch and onto his dick. As he thrusted into you, desperately, he couldn’t help but continue blabbing sweet nothings.

“I’ll treat you so well—haah—take you out on dates,” he heaved, eyes watering as he thrusted slowly into you in long, deep strokes. His eyes never left you as he made love to you, his face going up to nuzzle in between your breasts, peering at you through lidded eyes lovingly. “Fuck you well every night, show you off to the world.”

You could only sob Satoru as you looked at his face through your tears, him doing all the talking for you. “Every day,” he groaned, his cock pulsing and twitching in your walls, “I’ll love you like you’re my wife and fuck you like you’re my slut. So—” and he took a sharp intake of breath, one that you could interpret as him getting close with the way his hips were continually getting more and more sloppy, “so proud of you, baby. Gonna take care of you.” Then, he meets his eyes with yours as he starts to speed up, hand moving to gently rub at your clit in circles, with such prowess that you know you’re not going to last long. “Pull you—haah—pull you aside and see what panties you wore for me that day. Coming inside—coming inside and making you walk around with my cum leakin’ out of your panties.”

And then he whimpers as he loses control. “Gonna—” he utters in between short breaths, “gonna come baby. Come with me.”

“I will, Satoru,” you whine. “Please, I wanna—I wanna kiss!” That’s when Satoru can’t hold himself back anymore, his cum shooting in ropes inside of you at the innocent gesture you wanted him to do while he was doing such filthy things to you. You come alongside with him, everything so overwhelming as you ride out your orgasm on top of him.

As you’re both settling down from your orgasm, he pulls you off—the both of you wincing at the sudden emptiness—as he lays you down next to him. Without a word, he nuzzles in between your breasts, giving a content sigh as he literally melts like a cat, relaxed in your embrace. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, and he takes his face out of your cleavage to give you a boyish grin. “What’re you laughing at?” “Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just the fact I’m chained to you now.”

“Hey!” he pouts, moving his arms so he’s embracing you tightly, effectively trapping you in. “Say that again and I’m going to sleep on top of you and never leave.”

“Can’t believe I’m chained to y—”

Satoru plops on top of you, making a show of tickling your ribs and stomach as you gasp and laugh in surprise. “Satoru!” He doesn’t relent, until you feel a familiar liquid ooze and leak out of your pussy.

This time, your shriek of Satoru’s name doesn’t go unnoticed. At the murderous look on your face–as well as the sheer messiness in between your thighs—he gets up. Smiles sweetly. “Should just leave you like this, leaking my cum. It’s only fair for how you ignored me!”

At that, he gets a pillow to his face, reminiscent of a kicked puppy as he trudges to your bathroom to clean you up.

general masterlist

comment and reblog your thots! <3

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akutasoda · 19 days ago

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kiss me again for good luck

prompt - midnight kisses

including - dr ratio

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, wc - 754

a/n: req by another another lovely anon ^^ hope your having an amazing day/night as well!! -> "Hey, i wanted to send in a request for the New years Event, if thats okay! Can i request a Ratio x Reader with "midnight kisses"♡? Thanks and have a great day/night!"

[art creds @/amaichiesora]

ratio let out a sigh, a long drawn heavy one that clearly signified his annoyance. he shifted a glance to a small box displaying numbers that were periodically increasing, scowling slightly in the process.

“you agreed to go” you hummed from beside him, your eyes focused forward as the elevator slightly hummed in the background.

he scoffed in both denial and defeat. you were right and there was nothing that could be done to change his agreement - especially now you were both standing in the elevator with little time before you arrived.

it was one of the IPC's annual parties and this one was specifically designated to welcome in a new calendar year in. all branches of the IPC were invited and therefore so was the intelligentsia guild, ratio included.

you both knew very well that those events weren't really his scene but ratio had agreed to go for some reason along the lines of “showing face” and maintaining a somewhat decent relationship with coworkers. you had been dragged along by ratio who claimed he needed at least one tolerable person there.

veritas did not want to stay very long and so you both agreed it was beneficial to stay until the main event was over and everything started stemming into after parties of sort. you reminded him of such a plan in the elevator just before it stopped and the doors opened with a ding.

as expected of ratio, he insisted you stuck close by his side, something you didn't mind doing too much seeing as you barely knew anyone else there, and if it helped him then that was even more of a reason.

ratio made a quick effort of introducing himself to those that approached him, opting for small talk and small talk only. he then found himself mainly with those that he knew from before such as a specific stoneheart who seemed rather surprised to see ratio actually show up to the event.

as the party dragged on you began becoming rather weary yourself, it seemed the whole situation was taking much more out of you than you anticipated. but it seemed ratio was feeling the same. evident by the fact that he was lingering nearer to you than you were to him, looking ready to grab you and leave at any time now.

fortunately, it seemed the peak of the party was approaching. with only a couple minutes left till midnight and that meant that it was almost over and done with - much to ratio's delight.

but you had come up with an idea. you and ratio had slowly found yourselves moving away from the main body of the party, sticking to the outskirts, and so you didn't think he would mind in the slightest. you were sure that nobody would even notice.

and as the main countdown started you decided to put your idea into practice. vast majority of the others in the party were counting down but ratio couldn't care in the slightest and so he didn't mind obliging at all to listening to you call his name and focusing on you - not that he really found anything more important to focus on than you.

you smiled at him and as soon as you heard the countdown hit zero, you leaned in abruptly and gave ratio a kiss - whispering a quick “happy new year” against his lips.

you then pulled away as quickly as you leaned in before pretending that it never happened and that you were focused on the others. ratio stared at you almost shocked, he knew you were waiting to see his reaction.

he quickly shook off his surprise and soon a warm smile graced his features. ratio leant in and pressed another chaste kiss to your forehead, mummering a returned “happy new year”

he then mimicked your actions and turned to face the crowd who all were too focused on their own mini celebrations.

a beat of silence passed before he wrapped the arm closest to you around your waist, pulling you closer into him and giving you a reassuring squeeze before heading back into the crowd.

#⋆｡°✩akutasoda's new year event ♡#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #hsr ratio #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader

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gumdropgamespot · 3 months ago

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🍭🍫🍬A treat (or three) to you; from me! 🍬🍭🍫

Snag these interactive bites from Pumpkin Honey Home and Gothic Living set (that will come... soon(ish)... in full!)

All of these have pack dependencies, so I'm hoping at least one will work for your game! 😅🧡

Delight in some autumnal tunes with a record player perfect for your cottage in the woods

Light an incense cone on the head of the littlest owl from the Growing Together sculpture, for some décor made functional

Hide your Simflix addiction with a television disguised as a fine art easel

Grab the ones that work, or grab them all! Happy Simblreen!

⬇ DL and Art Swatches Below ⬇

⬇ Grab at SimFileShare ⬇

Picnic Days Record Player (req. Outdoor Retreat)

If you want to decorate beyond the player, check out @budgie2budgie 's Old School Record Store Stuff (the records here were selected to match with their collection)

Feathered Family Incense Holder (req. Spa Day, intended for use with Growing Together pack)

The Art of Deception TV (req. Get Famous)

(I will eventually have a patreon post linked too… if simfileshare goes down, lmk and I’ll release the post early 😊)

#simblreen #simblreen 2024 #ts4 cc #ts4cc #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 outdoor retreat #the sims 4 spa day #sims 4 get famous #the sims 4 custom content #GumdropCC

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justwinginglife · 5 months ago

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what abt a soshiro and a babyshiro req ❓babyshiro is almost the carbon copy of soshiro but the kid always has that serious/brooding resting face that he always contrasts soshiro's own smiley face with,,,, n then sometimes babyshiro would wander off and watch the officers train but the officers always like shiver when they sense babyshiro's ominous aura observing them (the kid just has a permanent intimidating pout)

The Unstoppable Trio

When you first saw a picture of Soshiro as a kid, you were overwhelmed by just how adorable he was and you vowed to him that when you had his baby, they would look exactly like him. He just laughed and shook his head at you, saying you couldn't control what they looked like, and what if he wanted them to look more like you instead? But you stood firm in your statement- you wanted, no, you needed a little baby Soshiro running around your house, his little bowlcut flopping around as he played, his purple eyes peeking out from underneath his tired lids.

And when you finally did have your first kid and he was the exact carbon copy of your husband, Soshiro then assumed you had some sort of otherworldly power to manifest your desires with such accuracy. You let him continue to think you were a god, it made things easier. It helped that your predictions were almost always correct as well. Soshiro had started taking your side on almost everything, after seeing firsthand how the universe just seemed to bend to your will, and when people disagreed with you, he’d quickly shut them down, whispering that you’d curse their family for generations if they didn’t shut up. He made you laugh.

And your kid was just like him, always seeking out ways to make you laugh, to make you smile. If he said something silly and you giggled, he’d repeat it over and over to elicit the same reaction. If he did something cute and you fawned over him, he’d continue doing it, continue soaking up your adoration.

Soshiro was both pouty and proud about it. He wanted your attention too, but he was impressed that someone so young had already figured out the secret to keeping you happy. He felt like if he ever passed too soon, his son would take good care of his mom. So he let him have your attention, he let him learn how best to love you.

In fact, you and your husband were the only people your son actively showered with love. He was worse at showing it to anyone else. He had such a severe case of resting bitch face around everybody else that rumors started going around that you, with your supernatural powers, had birthed a demon of some sort. Because if anyone were to have given him these genetics, it wouldn’t have been smiley Soshiro, it would’ve been you. You were downright intimidating sometimes, and it seemed your child had already perfected that same art of intimidation at such a young age.

Now, every time you looked at your baby boy, he was the picture perfect angel, grinning just like his daddy did. But everyday your husband would bring you a new story about what your “perfect baby boy” did to scare the shit out of someone today, and it cracked Soshiro up to no end, he’d say “Our kiddo is a real comedian.”

Apparently Iharu had gotten called to the Captain’s office while he was mid bathroom break and he had zipped up his pants as quickly as he could, almost tripping over his own feet trying to exit the bathroom and your baby had blocked the door. Iharu scratched his head, perspiring a little at the sight of what looked like a scowl, before finally trying to appease the kid.

“Um. Hey buddy. Hey little man. Mind moving out of the way for me?”

He didn’t budge. He simply pointed to the sink. “Wash.” He demanded.

Iharu lifted an eyebrow and turned to peer at the sink. Wash? He looked back at the kid, a puzzled look on his face. Did your kid expect him to help him wash his hands? He didn’t have time for this, the Captain needed him.

“Uh, sorry friend, maybe your dad can help you. Is he around?”

And then came the infamous eye roll that he had seen you do a million times whenever Soshiro teased you. Iharu thought your kid did the eye roll better than you, he was infinitely more terrified now.

“You. No. Wash. You. Wash. Now.”

Iharu almost peed his pants again as he realized what the kid was saying. He forgot to wash his hands. The kid was blockading the door all because he forgot to clean up after himself. Iharu shivered as he washed his hands, imagining the consequences if he’d done something worse than forgetting to wash his hands. Your kid was pretty damn frightening.

And it turned out that Soshiro was just around the corner, clutching his sides, chuckling to himself. When he saw Iharu stumble out of the restroom looking like he’d seen a ghost, Soshiro simply said, “Bet you won’t forget to do that again,” before wiping tears from his eyes and then patting his kid on the head to reward him for good behavior.

Even Kaguragi, big and strong as he was, fell victim to the mini-you. Your son had wandered into the training room where Kaguragi was lifting weights and for a minute, he just watched him. It was enough to get Kaguragi sweating, but if anyone asked, he could blame it on the workout. Then your kid strolled over to him and pointed to the weights, saying “More.”

So Kaguragi added another weight to his set, though unsure why he was listening to a child. He did a couple reps before your kid, again, repeated “More.” He wanted to tell your kid that he was being ridiculous, that he was already lifting way more than he usually did, but one look at his face froze him in place. He nodded his head compliantly. “More it is, little guy.” And he kept adding more and more, at your kid’s instruction, until he was about to collapse. Soshiro laughed so hard he had to run to the bathroom, where he ran into Iharu again, gave him shit about washing his hands again, and then relieved himself.

The women were not immune to your son’s cold stare either, as proven by Shinomiya’s standoff with him. She had heard the rumors and she had scoffed at them, saying it was ridiculous for anyone to be afraid of a child and that they should be sorry to call themselves Defense Force officers. She had even marched around the base, looking for the child, so she could prove her grit. She found Soshiro holding his hand as they went for a walk and she knelt down to take a look at the little guy.

“Aww, hi cutie! Are you taking a walk with your daddy? Everyone says you’re so scary, but you’re just a little sweetie pie, aren’t you?”

His icy gaze pierced her soul as he spoke, “Where’s your daddy? No daddy?”

Shinomiya ran away crying.

You did apologize to Shinomiya for the incident, setting down a large bouquet of her favorite flowers on her nightstand before leaving her to sulk in bed the rest of the day. And you were actually sorry for her, but unfortunately, you and Soshiro were also slightly amused. It was an entertaining notion that your son could take down even the great Shinomiya, and especially after she talked such a big game.

“What a tough guy you are, baby boy.” You kissed him on the head and he smiled the most darling smile. You returned home with him on your hip and Soshiro at your side.

So now you were the unstoppable trio. And everyone knew it.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #anime #hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #han's library

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cherry-leclerc · 1 year ago

Text

red diamond ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, arthistory!reader

word count: 2.8k

The story of when you and Carlos met and how the mutual connection of art takes you two on a pleasing journey that will leave you realizing a thing or two.

req!... i did a bit of touch ups from the request i got but i hope that anon doesn't mind AHH. hope you guys like it :)

“No, no, no! Ritorno! Per favore!”

Gasping for air, you curl over as you groan in frustration. Punching your bag, you watch lamely as the cab drives away. It was your own fault - you had overslept - but you seriously thought you would make it on time. You moved to Italy a few months ago to study Art History in one of the most prestigious universities. But along with that, there were lots of things being asked from you; volunteering in museums, endless essays, and ridiculous research that even had you second guessing your choices.

“Stai bene?”

Spinning around, you make eye contact with a tall man who secretly made your blood run cold. You shiver as you nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would just leave you alone. But he doesn’t budge, he only digs a single hand into his pocket. Your stomach drops.

“Am I about to get mugged?”

“What?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you point out his all black outfit and how creepily he kept his hand hidden from plain sight. Bright pink colors his cheeks as he instantly raises his arms up in defense. God no! Oh sh- I’m sorry, he squeaks as he winces. You let out a breath of relief as you rub your arms to help keep warm.

“Do I look like a thief or something?”

Scanning the empty road, you squint as you try your best to find another ride. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea you’ve had to go to the Sistine Chapel at night. “Or something.” He softly laughs. Shimming out of his sweater, he shyly hands it over. “That’s very nice of you, but it’s okay. You’ll get cold.”

“I won’t. Plus, you’re shivering so much that I can hear your teeth chattering. Seriously, take it.” Instead of telling him no, you decide against it since you were two seconds away from getting frostbite. Grazie, you whisper as you tug the sweater over your head. He looks away as soon as your arms swing up and allows him to get a good glimpse of your white lingerie. “What are you doing out alone so late at night?”

Warming your hands deep inside the hoodies pockets, you respond, “I was trying to get a lift to the museum. I have to take some notes for a lecture I have tomorrow morning. I was supposed to go a whole lot earlier, but my nap was longer than I had intended.” He glances at you for a moment before jingling his keys up. You raise a brow.

“Can’t reassure you that the museum will still be open at a time like this, but I could offer you a ride back home.”

Agreeing turned out to be the best thing you could have ever done. Turns out Carlos drove for a living - whatever that means; he had been suspiciously blunt with it - but long before, he had actually studied Art History himself back in Spain. Ever so kindly, he had helped you research about The Creation of Adam. You were extremely impressed when he kept naming facts from the top of his head.

Shutting your notebook, you sheepishly shake your head. “You just saved me from embarrassment in front of my professor. She could be a bit mean when we don’t get our stuff done. Typical Italians.”

“Not all Italians are like that.”

“Sure.” Pause. “But she is.” He nods as he points towards your main entrance. Clapping your hands, you leap up from your couch. “Thanks again for all the help. I really appreciate it. I also appreciate that you didn’t turn out to be some murderer.” He squints his eyes teasingly.

“Thief or murderer, which one is it?”

“Preferably neither.” You open the door slowly as he steps out. “See you around, Carlos.”

“Of course.”

A few weeks later, you’re in a complete hurry. You had overslept, again, and it was looking as if you weren’t going to make it to class on time. You mumble a line of curses at the clear image of Professor Clara lecturing you for the thousandth time. It didn’t help either the way your key got jammed at your quick attempt to lock the door.

“For fucks sake-”

“Need help?”

“Merda!” You drop your coffee as you spin around with a hand over your stomach from the sudden shock. The familiar brunette cringes as he bends down to pick up your thermo.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He carefully takes your bag from your arm. “I just thought-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off as you share a tight lipped smile. “It’s nice to see you, but I don’t have time for this. I’m late as it is.”

“Typical Italians.”

Your mouth drops open as you snatch your things back from him. “For your information, I am not Italian. Also, what are you doing here?” He beams.

“I have a favor to ask.”

Straightening your posture, you chirp as you take him by the hand towards his car. “Me too. Can I have a ride?”

You knew he’d agree. What you didn’t know was how excited he was to be near your presence. From the moment he first saw you he felt a sort of attraction that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Yes, you were breathtakingly beautiful but there was something about your aura. Everything about you made him crave more. He felt so stupid that it took him this long to see you again.

“Sooo. What do you need?”

“Right.” Turning on his blinker, he quickly glances at the GPS. “Are you free later?”

“Way to make a girl feel special.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s just that there’s this painting…” When he notices your lost expression, he taps his finger desperately against the wheel. “Doni Tondo. Ever heard of it?” The mention has you buzzing as you nod excitedly. “Of course you do. Anyways, they’re holding an auction up for it. I need you.”

“You do know I’m a broke college student who lives off of pizza and pasta, right? If you’re looking for money then I’m just going to let you down-”

“Money’s not the issue.” Flashy, you hiss as he smiles. “I have the money, but I need you. I need a date.” Why? He makes a left turn. “Do you know the meaning behind the painting?” You shake your head. “It depicts the importance of family. A healthy marriage.”

“I’m not following…”

The Spaniard becomes distressed as he sees you’re getting closer to your destination. He presses down on the brake a bit. “They want couples. Wealthy couples. Someone who they know that if they buy this piece of art then it’s going to be in good hands. That it’s going to continue serving its purpose.” He turns to you as he cocks his head a bit. “I need it as a birthday present for my mother. She’s been wanting it for ages and…Please.”

Putting the car in park right in front of the university entrance, he hopes to find an answer in your face as you keep it blank. Instead, you gather your things as you step out of his car. A delicate hand waves for him to roll the shiny window down.

“Pick me up at 8.”

“This is coconuts! I’ve never been inside of the Uffizi Gallery,” you whisper-shout as you cling onto his arm. He smiles down at you as he leads you to the small group of potential buyers. There were six in total - making it more intimate and scary. You were scared. His warm hand makes its way to cradle your face as he leans down to kiss your temple. You physically melt.

“It only costs a couple of euros.”

“You’re killing the vibe,” you groan as you pinch his cheek. He shrugs as he hushes you. Enzo, the coordinator, does a quick introduction with a cheerful voice. Everyone else seems to be listening just to listen, but you and Carlos were picking up on all of it like a sponge. “He’s a genius.” You stare in awe. The brunette stifles a laugh. He’s not the one who created these paintings, you know that, right? You throw a deadpanned glare. “You’re killing it,” you remind him. He pokes his tongue out.

“Why don’t we get started, shall we?”

The rich are animals - you come up with that conclusion quick enough. The sum that flies past their lips has you gawking as you hide behind the Spaniards tall figure. €50,000, a man yells with a blonde clinging onto his arm with a wide grin. You choke.

“Anyone willing to go for more than €50,000?”

“€100,000.”

Spinning your head to face Carlos, you have to stop yourself from calling it off. It wasn’t like it was your money anyways. Mrs. BotchedUpBoobsButThinksItsNormal grows red as she whispers to the bald man. He nods. €150,000!

“€240,000.”

“What?” Distangling your arm from his, you freeze as you feel your fake ring fly off your ring finger. Carlos had slipped in on you - he wore a matching one - as a way to make you both look more of a real couple. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you as you clumsily run over to where it lies. “My apologies!” Enzo bends down before handing it to you. Mio Dio! What a diamond! Red and rare!

Walking over to you both, Carlos takes it from him as he slips it back onto your hand. “Good eye.” But Enzo is basically drooling as he takes your hand to analyze it.

“I’ve never seen one so up close and personal! Very exquisite! You must feel extremely lucky, tesoro!”

“Very,” you cheer as you pull your hand away. “How about we get back to it? Excuse my interruption-”

“So, where did he propose?”

“Sistine Chapel.”

Your cheeks burn up from his words. That was where you were trying to get to the first night you two met. To take notes of Michelangelo’s, The Creation of Adam. Much like now, you two were on a mission to retreat Michelangelo's, Doni Tondo. Enzo swoons as he shakes the Spaniards hand.

“Stravagante! What a love story! I could tell - feel - the chemistry between you two. It’s real.”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Not used to getting such high compliments from someone like you!” Carlos cuts you off as he tugs you closer, large hand laying over your hip. You shiver. He points to the painting. “What do you say?”

“Sold to Mr. and Mrs. Sainz!”

A whole crew follows in black SUV’s as they carry the painting to Carlos’s home, after Enzo had insisted it should be done that same day. Extending your hand out, you admire the ring. “You said it was fake.”

“Did I? I must have forgotten.”

Turning your body to face him, you place a hand on his upper thigh. His body stiffens as he clenches his jaw and squeezes his hands tight against the steering wheel. You let out a cough as you shyly pull away.

“You should have told me. I would have been more careful. Especially since it belongs to your mother.”

“Except it doesn’t anymore.”

Your brows pull in together as your bottom lip starts to wobble. “Did she die?” Taking in your glossy eyes, he shakes his head as he laughs.

“She’s fine.” He doesn’t say much after that as he pulls into a fancy driveway. Jesus, you squeal. He unclicks your seat belt. “My parents are over for the holidays. They’re taking the painting with them when they leave back to Spain. Come meet them.”

You must be in some sort of trance because you let him take you by your hand as he leads you towards the mansion. You wonder why, but when you remember there’s people still around with the painting, you wrap your fingers tighter against his.

“Perfect. Grazie.” The 29 year old admires as he takes a step back to take in the painting. It was gorgeous. You were starting to get jealous that it belonged to someone else. The group of men share a quick exchange of goodbyes before scurrying out the door. Walking back to you, he taps his shoe against your heel. “What do you think?” You scrunch your nose.

“Meh.”

He spins to face you. “You’re crazy. It’s beautiful.” He looks at you as you stare up at the wall where Doni Tondo hangs. He shudders. Tickling your waist he says, “Admit it. Say you love it.” You shake your head as you giggle. I’ve seen better. He gapes. “Liar!”

“I’m not lying.”

He books it to you as you squeal and try to not trip over your dress as you run away. Grabbing you by the waist, he spins you. Admit it! “No,” you wheeze as you grow dizzy and yet don’t want the moment to end. You pull on his bow that matches with the rest of his expensive tux. “I’m going to throw up if you don’t let go!”

“¿Estamos interrumpiendo?”

Pushing Carlos off harshly, the ring flies off your finger for the second time that night. You swallow a curse as you look up to an older couple. They smile fondly. Though you haven't met them before, you are able to quickly identify them as the Spaniards parents. Blood rushes to your face.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You take a step towards them as you extend your hand. They both shake it as they bring you in for a hug. You let out a small umph. Once they pull away, you pick up the ring from the floor. “I am so sorry about dropping your ring! I know it belongs to you. Carlos told me it was fake and if I had known, then I wouldn’t have flung my hand-”

“Don’t you worry, cariño - it doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Told you, Carlos interrupts. You scowl at him before handing it back to Reyes. She shakes her head as she covers your hands with hers. “Keep it.”

“But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.” You twirl around as you hand it to Carlos. “Somebody take it, please.” He stares back blankly and you could tell he’s about to say the same thing, but his mother’s words make him take it from you. It’s okay, Carlos. Hesitantly, he obeys. You let out a breath of relief.

Forcing himself to shake off the bitter feeling, he points up at the painting. “Lo hice. ¿Les gusta?” Reyes and Carlos Sr. nod as they hug each other. Nos encanta. She directs her attention back to you.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.”

And it was. It was the true depiction of a family. Carlos frowns. “You said it was okay.” Discreetly, you pinch his hip. He yelps.

“I was only joking, you should know that.” A beat. “I think it's one of the prettiest paintings I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I’m so jealous that you two get to keep it,” you joke as they laugh. Carlos Sr. wags his finger.

“It’s not ours.” What? You and Carlos slump as you look at each other with as much confusion as shock. The older couple laughs. “It was never going to be ours, but we needed a good enough reason for Carlos to pull the trigger. He’s been talking about this painting for as long as we can remember. Isn’t that right?” Reyes nods.

“I knew that if I said I wanted it then he would get it. Either way, if he didn’t buy it then we would have bought it for him.” She walks up closer to you both. “This painting is not just a pretty sight - it’s also the raw interpretation of love. When two people fall in love, things become so crystal clear that it almost has you wondering if you’ve lost your mind. You start to learn that a family is one of the most important things and what better way than to form that with your other half. Marriage is a sacred thing - and sure, it's scary - but it’s very well worth it. You’ll see.”

Her words make your stomach twist as you catch Carlos’ reaction through your peripheral vision. It sort of looked as if he was having some sort of epiphany as he nodded attentively at his parents. For some odd reason, the image of him starting a family of his own with some random woman makes your head hurt.

“ A few adjustments may be needed, but I have a feeling this ring will find its way to the right girl. Don’t you think, Carlitos?”

Carlos’ eyes flicker to yours as you look back at him. The connection had always been there, but something felt different. Scarily secure. Neither of you were brave enough to ask if this was something you were both feeling. Not yet, at least.

“I think it will.”

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metranart · 8 months ago

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Hello! Hope you have a nice day~ If you are accepting req, could you please do a prompt where Mitsuya s/o's wanting him to choke her for her new kink. Like, legit choking hurting her. I wanna know how would his reaction be since he is truly a gentleman but a wolf in a sheep's clothing KYAAAH gosh. Thank you for your time! <3

Hello Darlin', I usual don't do requests since I lack time :( ... but I really liked your prompt, so..... here's a little something...

Just as an honorable mention, is on my Patreon where I put up a monthly poll for members to vote for the anime and what they want the story to be about, I do art of scenes from the story as well. It's an extra in addition to the artwork that I put in general.

"I DON'T KNOW HOW, PRINCESS" - MITSUYA TAKASHI X READER

"Do you think I have a pretty neck, Mitsuya?"

You asked your boyfriend, a lilac eyebrow raising on his forehead quizzically before he smiled in amusement.

"Everything about you is pretty, love." He responded absentmindedly, with the ghost of a smile on his lips, as he saw out of the corner of his eye that you were pouting your lips.

"-Mmmm I didn't say what you wanted to hear, uh." He wondered more to himself, putting the thread into a needle and beginning to sew his little sisters' sweaters. The intelligible sound that came out of your mouth made him snicker.

"It's not that." You admitted with a certain hint of embarrassment. Your cheeks turning red as you played with your fingers for something to do.

"….Are you going to tell me what it is or am I going to have to force it out of you?" Mitsuya teased, and your bottom lip was chewed between your teeth, steeling yourself to interrupt him.

"Sure! Forcibly take it out of me." You rushed out to say with too much determination that Mitsuya Takashi almost lost the needle he was sewing with. A strange look on his face, with the question any boyfriend would ask… Surely, she's joking, right?…

His lips twitched dubiously, still unable to know whether he should laugh or…

"I'm serious, Mitsuya," You stressed, pulling at his fingers anxiously, "…you're going to have to choke me for me to tell you."

There was a strong redundancy in your words, if he choked you, you would certainly not be able to speak. But something inside Mitsuya told him that you were already moving into subtext.

"-Is this your way of telling me that you want me to choke you, little one?"

You shrugged, looking away.

"Only if you want." You conceded, almost as if this was his fetish and not yours.

Mitsuya snickered low in his chest, he already knew you too well and he wasn't going to lie, he loved these little games that you insisted on playing before asking him to do anything to you.

Abandoning the needle, in the most delicate but equally effective way, he dragged you until your thigh was flush against his on the chair.

"….Hop on, princess."

Your reluctance enticed him to no end. "If I'm sitting on your legs, you can't choke me properly-"

"Climb in and find out." He told you with that mischievous smile that you loved, and soon, your butt settled comfortably on his lap.

As in on reflect, his lips, envious and ferocious, pressed against your neck until he saw goosebumps erupt on your skin.

"So sensitive, are you sure you want me to choke you?" His question sounded muffled against your neck, and his tongue distracted you so much that your mouth admitted.

"Not only do I want you to choke me, I want it to hurt."

Mitsuya's lips snapped to a stop against your neck, hesitant as he let your words sink into his brain. But it didn't help much, because there was nothing to ponder.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said, bluntly.

The tantrum did not wait long. "I just want you to choke me harder than you usually do-"

"I have never choked you-"

"I-I know," you admitted sheepishly, "….well, in my mind, you have." Your cheeks turned crimson.

Mitsuya sighed, heavily. "Let's try something else, how about-" "No!" The timbre of your voice rose a little, the push in your features a little more.

"I want to do this, we can have a safe word." You offered hopefully and he snickered perplexed, "….how would you say it if I'm choking you?"

Your mouth opened but no sound came out.

"Then no?" you said, with the pitiful and trembling lip on your mouth and Mitsuya felt that he was arguing with his little sisters when they didn't want to eat the vegetables.

"I don't know how to hurt-"

"I've seen you pulverize gang members into the pavement, don't tell me you don't know how to-" This time, he interrupted you.

"…YOU…I don't know how to hurt YOU, I can't…" he admitted, settling you better on his lap, "I don't want to."

Your eyes met and you swore you saw what gentleness would look like if it had physical form. But you were stubborn… Your hand took his and in a slow, almost imperceptible movement you wrapped Mitsuya's fingers around your neck.

Your eyes never stop staring at each other, but you felt how his hand didn't close, so you helped him with yours.

Mitsuya pursed his lips, and suddenly, you stopped applying pressure and realized that his fist was still closed around your throat. Your heart beated with unbridled emotion… did you convince him?

"Harder." You asked him and you could count ten seconds, and his hand tightened, it didn't hurt, you could barely feel it, it was more like a necklace than anything else.

"Harder," you whispered against his lips and he hesitated, but his hand tightened.

Finally there was more pressure, and not only in his fist, but also in his pants. Because you could swear that what you felt nested beneath your ass, wasn't there before.

#fanfiction #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #tokyo rev x reader #mitsuya imagines #oc #mitsuya smut #ask #fic prompt #writing prompt

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