#not insinuating anything about your ask anon

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Oh, you're bi? 🤩

Oh, Christ, yes. Very much so. I guess that fell off my bio.

You mainly see me around here mooning after men because this is the Old Man Fucker website where I indulge a lot in my Trans Feels, so that means many men I repost are a messy combination for whom I feel gender envy, have trans head-canons, and/or want to [redacted]. Others, I just think are neat.

My attraction to other genders is vastly simpler in comparison; I should nonetheless really post more here for some variation. 😅

[koqabear]

hiiii hope ur doing well !! this is for the "the magic is yours" portion of the 2k event: ot5 with an oral fixation that's so bad giving pleasure turns them on more than receiving pleasure.

[2K Masterlist]

ot5 x fem!reader // wc: 2.7K ; around 500 per member //genre: established relationship, smut, MDNI.

warnings: service top! txt // yj: dom!yj, sub!mc, oral (f. rec and allusions to m. rec), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, car sex, semi-public sex // sb: no established dom/sub dynamics, marking, insinuated free use and somnophilia (consensual), oral, (f. rec)  breast play // bg: switch!gyu, switch!mc, oral (f rec), manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dry humping, hair pulling, (m. rec) pet names, (baby, puppy) name calling, (bitch) unprotected sex, creampie // th: dom!tyun, sub!mc, oral, (f. rec), praise kink, face sitting // hk: no established dom/sub dynamics, oral, (f. & m. rec) breast play, biting, cum eating, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia, aftercare

notes: yes i know i said i was in a disastrous tyun mood and i still am, i always am, (hence the header) but then i remembered this ask and couldn’t stop thinking about txt who can’t survive a day without tasting you. Service tops will forever have my heart, thank you for this anon… you know me too well <3 (barely edited haha...)

[Yeonjun]

Yeonjun isn’t really sure when this happened— when he realized that he’d rather spend his time in between your legs rather than the other way around; he was always more inclined to receive than give in his past relationships, claiming to be addicted to the sight of his partners struggling to take him in, teary eyes and drooly face determined to make him feel good— and yeah, that’s nice and all, but Yeonjun knew he was a goner the moment he first went down on you. 

Sweet whimpers, thighs that shake around his head and threaten to close in on him, your restless body that writhes and arches against the sheets— fuck, he swore he almost came untouched the first time you had sex, eyes widening at the feeling of your shaky fingers threading into his hair and pulling him closer to your sopping cunt, grinding against him with breathless whines of his name— and he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you, even when you were shaking and crying from the overstimulation, cooing softly that he’s just trying to prep you, that you can handle one more— but that’s a lie and he knew that, much too obsessed with seeing you fall apart on his tongue again to care if you believed him. 

And after months of begging to go down on you practically every hour of every day, Yeonjun finally decided to accept the harrowing truth; he’d much rather give you pleasure than receive it at all, and he’d spend eternity in between your thighs if he could— and you, well you’re not complaining at all. If anything, you took your chance to give him a taste of his own medicine and tease him relentlessly, your wardrobe piling with cute dresses and skirts that you were ready to unleash the moment summer came around. 

And when the season finally came… oh, Yeonjun was a goner. Almost popping a boner the moment he saw you come out of your home for the picnic the two of you planned out, donned in a pretty sundress that hugged and exposed your body perfectly— he almost crashed the car when he glanced over at you and noticed the way the skirt hiked up to expose the soft, smooth skin of your thighs to him.

You expected this outcome, really; unable to make it out of the car as he pulled you to the backseat of his car, spending a good thirty minutes laying on his seats and left to his mercy before you finally emerged with shaky legs, hand placed daintily on his shoulder as he guided you up the hill, one hand placed on the small of your back and the basket in the other, talking your head off about who-knows-what while you tried to pretend you hadn’t just been given some of the best head of your life. 

Yeonjun tops it easily the moment you’re settling down— he doesn’t even bother to eat before his head finds itself under your dress, licking at your clothed cunt because of how desperate he is to finish what he started— by the time he’s finally satiated, you’re entirely spent, face flushed at the way he tells you to take a nap, patting your head fondly as he shakes his head at your offers to return the favor. 

You think you’ll wear sundresses more often. 

[Soobin]

Soobin is someone who is simply unashamed of the fact that he needs to have something in his mouth 24/7. It was a cute habit that endeared you when you first met him, always spotting a lollipop in his mouth every time you saw him, whether that be on his walk to class or while he was studying— he kept a bag of it in his book bag, he told you, ears tinged with embarrassment as you laughed and cooed about how cute he was. 

Inevitably, that habit transferred seamlessly into your relationship; you didn’t think much of it, at first— to you, he was simply overly affectionate, unfazed of the way he constantly begged you for kisses, sweet tongue slipping into your mouth and messily making out with you for hours— lazily cuddling on the couch, a big hand on the swell of your ass as he kept you still, swollen and sensitive lips still pressing messy pecks against yours as you whined that you had to go to the bathroom, or you had an assignment that you needed to work on— you could never get out of his arms without hearing his incessant whines telling you not to go.

But as your relationship progressed and you slowly began to get touchier, that habit of his became more of an inconvenience to you— leaving splotchy marks on your neck without you noticing, nights where you would fall asleep with his head tucked into the crook of your neck ending with you shifting in the odd hours of the night, feeling Soobin’s pouty lips sucking and kissing at the canvas of your neck absentmindedly— and you’d have to spend a good chunk of your mornings attempting to conceal the mess he left on you, your apologetic and sleepy boyfriend clinging to you in the bathroom as he whined and whined about how sorry he was— but you really doubted it. 

So was it really much of a surprise when Soobin finally confessed his oral fixation to you with a red, flustered face? It truly wasn’t, but seeing him confide in you about it allowed him to find himself in what he liked to call his personal paradise— in other words, the interesting little arrangement the two of you conjured up. 

One pouty look from your boyfriend was enough to have you rolling your eyes fondly and tugging your shorts off— scrolling on your phone while Soobin’s hair brushed against your inner thighs, soft lips sucking and pulling your swollen clit into his mouth as he ran his tongue along it, moaning into your cunt that only clenched around nothing pathetically— waking up in the mornings to see your boyfriend had already begun to make himself busy, legs thrown over his broad shoulders and button nose pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and slurped at your arousal desperately. Movie nights where you were innocently cuddled on the couch turning into you trying your best to focus on the movie while Soobin bit and suckled at your breasts, trying to hold back tears at the way he left them bruised and sensitive afterwards— and if you shed a few stray ones and scolded Soobin to give you a break, he didn’t really mind— he was more than happy to move onto your lips or cunt instead. 

[Beomgyu]

Beomgyu, who moans like crazy whenever he eats you out, messy and desperate and nasty that you’re unable to keep up with him, helpless against his hold as he merely throws your legs over his shoulders, practically pressing your thighs against your stomach from the way his hands remain on the underside to caress your skin, all in a feeble attempt to get closer to you— and it wasn’t as though it made much of a difference, his face already pressed firmly against your pussy and his hips rutting into the mattress as he brought you to countless orgasms, always telling you “one more, just one more baby,” but lying like the little sadist he is, holding you down and not letting you squirm away as he brought you to tears practically every night. 

“What? I just think you look hot when I go down on you,” is what he tells you when you try to question why he just can’t stop asking you if he can eat you out, giving you an innocent and puppy eyed look— but you know it’s more than that, always used to your previous partners treating eating you out like a chore— and you weren’t exactly oblivious to the times where he’s been so lost in your cunt he could only hump into the mattress pathetically, moaning breathily into your cunt and setting a pace that matched the way he was fucking desperately into the sheets— and if Beomgyu thought you didn’t pick up on the many times he was able to cum from that alone, whining against your pussy and soiling his boxers completely, he was sorely mistaken. 

This front of his was quickly beginning to irritate you; exasperatedly shaking your head whenever you’d have to tell Beomgyu no, you can’t eat me out under the table right now. Finish your food, and having to deal with his predictable pouts and whines pleading you to just give in.

So when you inevitably find Beomgyu between your thighs once more, you decide to test something out— watching with lidded eyes as he takes his time running his tongue along your slit, circling your clit and licking at it softly, eyes closed with bliss— and your hand is sneaking down to tangle in his long hair the moment you notice his hips beginning to grind, getting a good grip and tugging harshly; the broken moan Beomgyu lets out at the pain tells you all you need to know. 

“Fuck, desperate puppy just can’t get enough, hmm?” you coo out, his glassy eyes looking up at you and nodding, face twisted in a wince as you tug again— and he whines, hands rubbing your thighs sweetly as he pleads for you to let him keep going, to let you feel good. 

“Y’want it that bad?” you ask indifferently, throwing your leg leisurely over his shoulder and watching his face heat up, eventually giving you a small nod, “Fine. But I don’t want to see you humping the bed like a pathetic bitch.” and you’re shoving him back into your dripping cunt, feeling him move feverishly against you with every tug of his hair— and while he follows your orders nicely, the night ends with him almost crying the moment you tell him to fuck you; so immersed in making you feel good over and over that he neglected his throbbing and leaking cock, cumming pathetically the moment he sinks into you— and his lips latch onto your neck with every broken sob of his, leaving you to wonder if your cunt is really the only thing he likes to have his mouth on.

[Taehyun]

This man thinks he’s slick. Is in absolute denial that he has an oral fixation of any sort, just believes that it’s just because you’re really hot and he simply wants to make you feel good. He’s never experienced this with any of his other partners, so why should he care? It must stem from the dynamic the two of you have— his need to pleasure you like crazy, that is. There’s just something about you that raised his sex drive beyond comprehensible limits, and he just found it even hotter that you willingly took anything he gave you; multiple rounds? Sure, you can handle it. Being rough with you? You’re into that, you’ll take whatever he tries on you. Whatever he springs up on you, you take it like it’s nothing, rewarding him with your sweet sounds and pretty faces he ingrains into his mind. 

So the first time Taehyun eats you out, he’s hooked— your taste is so addicting and you sound so pretty, round eyes looking up between your legs to catch the way your face flushes and your mouth falls open, legs jumping and closing in on his head, threatening to suffocate him. Your hips buck up and your clit bumps against his nose when you cum, making you keen in a way that almost has Taehyun spilling in his sweatpants then and there; your nimble fingers run through his hair absentmindedly, spilling praises and sighs of his name that drive him mad. 

Fuck—! So— s-so good, so good to me tyunnie– ah! Hah, ughhh fuck, just– just like that, god, Taehyun—! 

Was it really unreasonable for him to want to eat you out every second of the day if you sounded like that? Taehyun doesn’t think so. 

Thus begins the absolute agony that is Taehyun asking if he can just please, please give you head, trying to disguise it under reasons that at some point, stop making sense. 

You look really good in that skirt— can he give you head? Oh, you’re studying, you should take a break. Can he give you head? You’re restless, unable to sleep, tossing and turning and sighing desperately— and he turns to you, startling you because what the fuck I thought you were asleep, pushing past your surprise to tell you that sex can help tire you out and sleep. Can I give you head? 

Practically jumps with joy on the days you actually agree, going down on you then and there, no matter the circumstance— dropping to his knees in the kitchen, throwing your legs over his shoulders on the couch, laying on the bed and telling you to sit on his face with bright, sparkling eyes— and he enjoys it just as much as he did the first time, letting you fuck yourself on his tongue and sucking on your clit with his swollen lips, staring at you with eyes of adoration and need each time; he doesn’t even care if he gets to fuck you at the end of it, (though that’s always a plus) all he wants to do is watch his favorite girl cum on his face. 

[Hueningkai]

This man. Can— and does— spend hours at a time between your legs; he just loves to have his mouth on you, loves to lay down on the bed, on his stomach as he lazily licks at your clit, wanting to take things slow as you run your fingers through his hair and sigh about how good it feels. Will be in bliss as he eats your pussy, eyes shut and pretty nose bumping against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, large hands placed on your tummy and rubbing it fondly because he just can’t get enough of you— he’s infatuated with you, with your soft skin and the way you moan out his name, not even searching for his own pleasure as he solely focuses on yours. 

It’s become routine for you two at this point; running to you when he’s had a bad day, wanting nothing more than to kiss you and use you as his cute little destresser. Starting it off with slow kisses, feeling the way he moves along your jawline and down your neck, lifting your shirt up to expose your breasts— and he spends quite a while there too, watching your nipples grow stiff and sensitive from the attention he give them, biting teasingly and listening to the way you squeal at the feeling— and of course, it all ends with his head between your legs, peppering kisses along your inner thighs and on your clit, leaving open-mouthed kisses on it as he watches you squirm and whine for him not to tease. 

Kai, who gets drunk off your pussy and doesn’t even expect you to return the favor, genuinely surprised whenever you ask him if you can suck his dick or if he can please, please please just fuck you already. And he says yes, bending to your will and giving in to your puppy eyes that are glassy with desire; he’ll be mesmerized at the way you allow him to cum in your mouth, releasing so much that you can’t help but let it bead at the corners of your lips— and Kai is quick to bring you up for a kiss, messy tongues tangling together as he groans at the taste of his lingering cum on your mouth— or pulling out immediately on the nights where he’s fucked you to the point of exhaustion, looking down to see your cunt that drips with the multiple releases of his cum, unable to even protest the moment you see him spreading your folds gently and swooping down to clean you up; warm tongue running along your slit, curling inside you before he’s circling your clit, flicking gently as he listens to the way you mewl and cry at the overstimulation.

Kai, who’s not just obsessed with your cunt, but is also obsessed with you, never failing to pamper and coddle you endlessly, telling you how good you were for him with a fond smile, kissing your cheeks and tasting the salty tears that cling to your skin.

[arminsumi]

SAKURA.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: i really liked this idea and merged it with my little daydream of Gojo being in his clan and meeting you in a small village (like before he moved to the city or something) and tweaked it just a lil bit if that's ok!! i hope i delivered, and mwa ty for your request lovely anon i hope i got it all right, enjoyyy 💐

REQUEST: Can you pls write gojo who gets the Hanahaki disease cause of reader and gojos condition worsens so to keep the strongest alive the higher ups set up an arranged marriage with reader (her mission is to love gojo so he doesn’t die but she is defensive and uncooperative at first) but then she warms up to gojo (he does everything to make her happy) and they both live happily ever after 😭💕

SUMMARY — you meet a boy on a Taiko-bashi as a child. Little did you know, he was the prodigal son of the Gojo clan, and you would be married into that family to save his life.

WARNINGS — heavy angst to fluffy fluff, he steals ur first kiss, domestic life with ur kid Megumi at the end <3 😭, unrequited -> requited love, arranged marriage, quite a lot of blood/bloody flower mentions, disease/afflicted with coughing spells (see about the fictional Hanahaki disease here. Basically u cough up flowers and/or throw up full flowers if it gets life-threatening), poor boy almost dies, there’s a scene where it’s insinuated that he throws up a full flower, some teasing/playfulness yk the usual you'd expect from gojo, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.3k

PLAY ME ♪ bouquet — Ichiko Aoba

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞��𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

When you were seven, a boy a few years older than you – perhaps two or three – passed you by on a Taiko-bashi in a small village. You remember him as the boy with peculiar eyes and white hair who looked back at you on the bridge. In your eyes, it was a very ordinary encounter with a very extraordinary looking stranger.

But in his infinitely blue eyes, there was ingrained a more meaningful and vivid memory of that encounter. He held it very close to his heart. When you and he made that brief eye contact as he looked behind his shoulder, slowing at his mother’s side, he felt a windswept, lovestruck feeling come over him. He batted his pretty lashes at you and stopped walking for a fleeting moment, as if captivated, and then went his separate way with the image of your face burned into the forefront of his mind. His kimono fluttered as he tended to walk in a gliding manner.

When you were fourteen, the same encounter happened again. A familiarly pale face with barely grown-in features looked back at you – his whole body felt a twinge of excitement. He only took one small moment to look at you and yet knew you were the same girl he saw as a child on this very same bridge.

Years went by, and the two of you kept encountering each other at peculiar times in your lives at that same bridge. Neither of you spoke to each other once, well, you didn’t say a word – but he uttered a few boyishly desperate greetings and even bowed as he glided past you to try and get your attention. If only you would have stopped for a chat, the poor boy would have given anything for that.

In some way, it felt like the two of you knew each other, though it was only your eyes that ever talked.

Come your eighteenth birthday, you were burdened with awful news. You were to be married to a man you had never met – someone from the Gojo clan. That person was apparently fatally sick with a disease you had scarce knowledge on. You asked your friend at the time, her name you’ve long forgotten by now, about Hanahaki and all she said was;

“Your lover is going to spit flowers in your face.”

You scrunched your nose up in disgust and confusion at this. A very silly image formed in your mind about the disease ever since your old friend had said that – all you could imagine was your future husband spitting saliva-wettened, half-destroyed flowers at your face.

The Gojo family and your family had always distantly known each other, hence all the visits to the village that they resided in. Your marriage to Gojo was long-debated throughout the years – yet neither you nor him knew anything about it. Neither of you prospected marriage, you were just the two strangers that passed each other on the Taiko-bashi every time the Sakura was in bloom.

The first time you and the son of the Gojo clan were introduced, it had already begun with a rocky start. You walked in when he had been overwhelmed with a coughing fit, and you were hushed back outside. The shoji door smacked shut behind you, and you heard sickly coughs piercing through the translucent sheets. When your future husband stopped coughing, and the blood and petals were cleaned up, you were brought back into the room. There were both your families and some important-looking officials in the large room, all formally sat on the tatami mats with mixed expressions. His mother seemed delighted at the sight of your face – but not more than her son.

Gojo Satoru, an eighteen-year-old at the time, with usually such a loud mouth and good joke up his sleeve, was rendered speechless when you had walked into the room. He analysed and absorbed every feature that made up the image of what he thought was the most charming and alluring creature ever to exist. Definitely a creature, he thought as you formally bowed with him, because no human could possess such an ethereal beauty.

Satoru was intrigued by you from your encounter on the Taiko-bashi, but when he was finally introduced to you he was utterly captivated.

The reasons and conditions for your marriage with the Gojo clan’s prodigal son conflicted with your strong beliefs in love and romance. You had rather aggressively told the poor boy your opinions in the days leading up to your wedding.

“I always thought,” you emphasized with a snotty tone, yet he listened to you like one would listen to the tranquil flow of the river under the Taiko-bashi, “that I would marry someone I loved, and not be forced to love…” you seemed so disappointed with how your life was turning out, that he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for you.

“I’m a positive person, I have faith that you’ll fall in love with me in no time.” He said cheekily and winked at you. You felt very taken aback by such straight-forward flirting – you must understand, no boys in your village ever did that. They were very proper, even reserved.

He was almost charming in that instant, but then he added; “Who wouldn’t fall in love with me?”

At the time he was so full of himself that you could hardly believe there was space for any petals in his body. But there certainly was – when you left him alone in that room and stormed off, appalled by his conceit, he clutched the side of the door frame and coughed up little pink petals – enough to comprise three whole flowers.

It started worrying him, a few days before the wedding, when he started coughing more often. And not just that, but he started coughing up more petals than he had ever in his life. The peculiar disease had started during a time in his childhood that was coincidentally very close to the time he first passed you by on the bridge.

The night before the wedding, he laid in bed and brooded. And he was never the type to brood – he let life happen and moved on relatively easily. But he brooded, and brooded until it felt like he sunk so deep into his futon that he became one with it. The ceiling blurred.

What was going to happen if you didn’t fall in love?

That thought scared him so much that he violently drove it out of his mind and replaced it with an ideal daydream; he envisioned you and him cuddled up, bracing each other’s bodies, and melting into each other like real lovers do. He imagined you would be warmer than him, with that cool touch he had, and you would also stroke his hair. It was very fluffy, he made sure to point that out to you several times – but you never took a hint.

On the day of your wedding, he snuck to meet you just before the ceremony. He was crouched in the garden outside the room that you were preparing in. It’s then when he heard you voice your feelings to whoever it was helping you get ready.

“How can I love a stranger? And anyways, he is so full of himself, I can hardly believe there’s space for any flowers in there. There’s nothing I like about him.”

“Oh, Y/n, you have yet to learn about him. I’m sure you will find he’s rather charming. He is the pride of the Gojo clan, after all – he has the Six Eyes and Limitless. He’s the strongest, he’ll always be able to protect you – ”

It sounded like the woman talking about him was your mother, with how she praised him so much. She was right, Gojo thought; he could protect you from anything.

His expression was grave after hearing your thoughts. But he put on a lightened smile and masked his slight heartbrokenness when the rituals and main ceremony commenced.

It was a very formal, rigid ceremony. Gojo looked up at you sadly a few times, wishing you would spare a glance. He brooded on the idea that you’ll never love him like he loves you, and then a sickening, ticklish feeling spread in his throat and just as the closing ritual ended, he burst into a coughing fit – one of his worst yet. A bit of blood dribbled out his flushed lips, contrasting against his pale skin. Of course you were concerned – and of course you felt the urge to help and comfort him. But those feelings were purely out of the goodness of your heart.

Friends share love. But even when you and Gojo developed something resembling a friendship, it didn’t alleviate his disease. It was embarrassing sometimes, to realize that you were failing at the one thing you had to do; and that was keep him alive.

He was quite genuinely dying for you to love him.

Yet you refused to be in the same room as him for too long. Your mother had to encourage you. Eventually, both his family and your family worked together to make sure you and Gojo spent adequate time with each other. They organized meetups ranging from fancy nights-out to long voyages to weekend sleepovers. It was comical, how your families got along more smoothly than you and Gojo.

It’s the spring of his nineteenth birthday when the thought of kissing you becomes a reality. Well, it doesn’t go as he planned it. See, Gojo envisioned that kissing you would solve all his problems – he thought he could infect you with his love, somehow worm into your heart through a passionate kiss.

So when you and him sat for tea in a spacious room, kneeled side by side on the tatami mats, he went in for a kiss. You were distractedly straightening out your kimono when suddenly a pair of inexperienced, boyish lips crashed onto yours.

“Mmf!” you reacted with sheer shock – why on earth was he kissing you? The audacity, he had just insulted and made a mockery of you with a cheeky, playful attitude.

“Satoru!” you whined into his mouth.

He cupped the back of your neck and partly entangled his hands in your hair. White lashes sat pretty as he closed his eyes and glided his wettened lips over yours. For the briefest moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss. But suddenly, as if your principles of love kicked back in and stomped on the moment, you shoved him away.

And a hard shove that was, he fell out of balance and landed on the mats with his elbows, a look of shock and surprise twisting into comedy.

“Playing hard to get?” he joked. His heart sunk ever so slightly at your rejection.

“You can’t just kiss a girl!”

“Come on, I’m your husband – if I can’t kiss you, then who is allowed to?” he asked.

You looked furious, like you were about to bite him, so he slowly started backtracking.

“I just wanted to see if kissing you would – ”

“How dare you, that was my first kiss! I thought I would have a cute first kiss, not a hasty one shared over… over a cup of tea!” you complained.

His expression changed and he started sputtering apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I – ahuh!” he started lightly coughing.

And now it was your turn to feel apologetic, because all the bad tension between you and him brought on another violent coughing fit for him.

“I’m okay.” He choked out, eyes water and face reddened – some blood pooled at the corners of his lips, he instinctually brought his hand up to his mouth to catch any that dripped.

You rushed and kneeled over him, placing a much-needed soothing hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, I’m sorry.”

He tried to muster up a joke to lighten your worry, “H-hey, since when d’you call me S-Satoru? I thought it was strictly Go-jo.” he was interrupted by more coughing.

You comforted him, until his parents came into the room. They seemed disappointed with you, but masked it.

The night fell heavy all around the Gojo home. The barren Sakura trees’ branches subtly shook in the wind. A storm was approaching.

“Hey, sweetlips.” Gojo slipped into your room as you were in the middle of preparing for bed. “There’s a big storm comin’, if you get scared you can sleep with me.”

“Are you out of your mi-” you shut up when a sudden, extraordinary crack of lightning sounded and shocked you right out of your skin.

Gojo had a little laughing fit at your overreaction. He was completely calm at such a loud noise. Of course he was.

“I’m not sleeping with you!” you muttered angrily, but then you saw the dejection on his face – no, rather, you saw the way he tried to conceal it, and you felt bad.

Maybe tonight is the night you’ll try harder, you thought.

“Okay, well, don’t cry like a wimp if the thunder scares you ‘cause I won’t come running to soothe you.” He said and left you alone.

When he walked down the hall, his fingers grazed over his lips. All he could think about was how blissful it felt to kiss you, even if you did reject him. And he was your first kiss – maybe it was wrong to smile over that, but he couldn’t help himself as he climbed into the comforts of his bed.

A violent rainstorm engulfed the village.

As the lightning got more frequent and more terrifying, Gojo scrunched up his shoulders and half-hid his face under his blanket. He felt like a boy again, as scared of the thunderstorms as he was when he was seven years old. His pretty upturned nose peaked over the blanket, eyes glistening with tears as he recalled the fateful day you and him encountered each other at the Taiko-bashi.

He held onto that memory with a death grip. No one else ever had the honor of being so close to his heart, not even his best friend who he had made at Jujutsu high when he was seventeen. No, that heart of his he kept reserved for you. He thought to himself that night, while curling up on his side in pain, that even if he dies, at least he would die having been able to love you – albeit without reciprocation.

And then it happened. He shot up and let out a violent cough, and began spluttering over his white blanket. The thunderstorm was so violent that it muffled even the violent coughing in his room. His head felt like a dense ball of tension.

Unrequited love for many boys his age was heartbreaking, but not deadly. He morbidly laughed at that fact, observing the flower that he had thrown up onto his blanket, soaked in his blood.

He was dying.

He defeatedly closed his eyes, breathing through his blood-glistening mouth. His chest lightly heaved. “Y/n, you’re really gonna be the death of me… ah, oh well. That’s okay.” He muttered madly to himself and fell back onto his bed, too weak to stay awake any longer.

It was probably the work of the universe, but you floated down the unlit hall and tapped at Gojo’s doorframe. “Are you awake? Satoru?” you called his name in a gentle murmur.

There was an eerie silence. You slid open the door and caught a glimpse of bloodied sheets and a mangled-looking flower.

“Satoru!” you rushed over to him, stirring him awake with a harsh shake on his arm. “Satoru? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

He groaned weakly – you felt a small relief. He wasn’t dead, though he really looked pale enough to be. His cheeks were flushed, his lips cracked and dry with residual blood.

Not a word you spoke sounded coherent to him though it was, all he heard was the soothing qualities in your voice. Though his vision was blurred, he knew it was you, because he felt the familiar air and scent of you.

He felt a strange sort of alleviation when you cupped his cheeks, murmuring something. Oh, when did he end up in a doctor’s room, laid on a patient’s cot? Weren’t you and him just in his bedroom at night, during a loud thunderstorm?

All he recalled was that you held his hand and squeezed it for a long time, while you were travelling somewhere. He remembered feeling your comforting presence each time his consciousness stirred.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?” he chuckled jokingly, feeling your lips press to his forehead.

“Huh?”

“Probably dreaming…” he muttered to himself.

“Satoru, you’re not in heaven you’re at Doctor Tanaka’s home.” You told him.

He pinched his eyes shut, overwhelmed by his afflicting sickness and Six Eyes.

“I’m so sorry…” he heard you speaking in a more tender voice to him than you ever had before. He felt the pressure in his chest lessen as you spoke, “… I was going to come to you because the thunderstorm scared me… no, actually, because I wanted to be with you. I felt this overwhelming urge to be at your side, and I don’t know why. Satoru, I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been such a scared fool, fearful of loving a stranger. Or, no, I guess I’ve feared loving someone I’m not supposed to be loving. You’re so special I feel driven away by it. But I promise I won’t flee from your love anymore, Satoru – I love you, and I’ll express it as much as I can in this feeble human form. The rest of our love will happen in the stars, after we die, I guess.”

He opened his eyes. It felt like the burdening fog that had been plaguing him since he was a little boy on the Taiko-bashi finally cleared. Everything felt fresh and sharp, and good and properly comforting. It felt like he had woken up from a long dream or arrived home from a harrowing journey through the landscapes of his mind.

“So you can be good with your words.” Was the first thing he said, and that was such a Gojo response that you knew he was okay.

“How do you feel?” you asked him, peering down at him.

He groaned and stretched and shifted around, fussing dramatically.

“I feel…” he began, and looked over at your lips. “Like I deserve to be kissed.”

“Oh, shut up you…”

He pouted. “Okay, ‘guess the kissing can wai- mmf!”

You kissed him very quickly and recoiled from shyness. His lips were divine.

He shot up out of the bed like he couldn’t just believe what happened.

“Wow.” He blinked at you. “So gutsy, you know you’re not allowed to kiss your husband!” he joked.

“You are such a – ”

“ – good kisser?”

“An idiot!” you giggled, genuinely enjoying his company.

The two of you bantered, basking in the newfound feeling of shared love. When the doctor came back in, he was preparing to witness the worst – but he was utterly surprised and at a loss for words when he walked in on you two smiling and laughing.

And it was the talk of the village. Neighbors gossiped, “Did you hear that Gojo Satoru is cured?” they spoke amongst themselves, “I heard! Apparently it’s a very romantic love story, did you read the newspaper article?”

You and Gojo drifted down the Taiko-bashi, together. He squeezed your hand when you set foot on the bridge, the cool skin of his wrist tickling your inner wrist as they pressed together.

“What are we doing here?” you asked him confusedly.

“Don’t you know this place? It’s the place we met.”

“Ooh, you’re romantic, huh?” you smirked.

A small blush crowned his cheeks.

“I’ve been romantic since the start.” He defended.

“What d’you mean! You were so cheeky!” you kicked his leg.

“I was quite a menace, I’m sorry – not sorry – kidding, kidding, I am sorry.”

He looked at you with a cheeky smirk, knowing damn well what you were talking about.

“You know…” he began, looking over the bridge at the river flowing beneath and admiring how the stream carried the Sakura blossoms. “Whenever I used to get coughing fits – bad ones – I would soothe myself with the memory of when we first met here. I can still recall the kimono you wore, and the Sakura that got tangled in your hair – and I thought about…” he came closer to you, speaking with a charming allure, “How badly I wanted to pluck that flower from your hair.”

You blinked up at him. How could such romantic words come out of him? You didn’t know how to respond.

“Ooh, did I make you shy?” he teased.

“No…”

“I totally made you shy. That’s so sweet. Are you blushing?” he giggled, putting his cool palm up to your cheek to feel the heat, “Oh, you’re blushing blushing. You could burn my hand right off.”

“Satoru!” you giggled.

“Ah!” he clutched his chest dramatically when you said his name, “Don’t say my name like that! I have a wife.” He joked.

“You are ridiculous!”

He gave you a big, toothy smile. “But you love me for it.”

“I do.” You tell him, and though he’s heard it many times after that day, each time feels like the first time you’re saying you love him.

“Gimme a kiss.” He asks.

“Come get it.” You tease, slowly backing away off the bridge.

“Seriously? You’re gonna make me chase you for a kiss? I’ve coughed up petals because of you, ‘n you’re gonna do me like this – heyyy! Get back here!”

Running into the petal-littered streets like carefree kids felt so freeing and exhilarating. He felt like he was catching up on all the fun he missed, if only you would have lived in his village as a child or visited more often.

“Got you!”

“Ah! Jesus, you scared – mmmf!”

He didn’t hesitate to take a much-needed kiss from your quivering lips. He kissed you so hard that you felt dizzied, lost for breath, rendered speechless. And he relished the love pouring out from you.

You stood there being kissed by your husband in a quaint alley, standing tiptoed on the Sakura blossom-littered ground to meet him halfway. Gojo’s heart thumped at the smallest things, like the fact you were standing on your tiptoes – that was the cutest thing in the world to him.

The two of you took a break for breath, and silently admired the Sakura blossoms as they drifted, being swept away by the wind.

Gojo looked at them, and looked at you, and thought of everything that had happened up until now. He was about to say something lovey-dovey but blurted out a dumb joke instead just to hear your laugh.

“Damn, I used to cough up those things.”

You laughed, “Your jokes aren’t good, Satoru.”

“But you laughed.” He said cockily.

“Shut up or I will never kiss you again.” You playfully threatened.

“You don’t mean it.” He tilted his head at you. You cracked a smile.

On the walk home, he kept calling you various nicknames – all flowers.

That day became a cherished memory of the past as the two of you weaved your way into proper adulthood. And the nicknames followed; he went through the whole flower alphabet, even the bizarrely named ones, even the Latin root names. When he wanted to annoy you, he’d call you prunus subgenus cerasus.

Now Gojo fusses around the living room of his tiny Tokyo apartment, preparing food for a little boy of the name Megumi. The day is full and busy, but any second he can get with you, he relishes.

“My tulip, 'gimme a kiss.” He asks.

“Come get it.” You tease.

“Ew.” Megumi grimaces, hearing this exchange right as he walks into the kitchen. He walks right back out.

“Gumi, get back here, food is almost ready.” Gojo calls after him, then leans down to try and kiss you but you playfully dodge him.

It always happens like that – he asks for a kiss, you refuse jokingly, he chases after you for a kiss and you scamper away. Like a running joke that’s a callback to your past.

“C’mere, you – ” he finally snatches you up, too needy for a kiss to play around anymore. “Stay right there and let me kiss you.”

He enjoys every second of kissing you, embracing you tight like he’s never letting go. Just like when he first kissed you, Gojo cups the back of your neck and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It has you breathless, gasping – he’s so alluring that you shudder.

“Satoru!” you scold, “The food will get cold…” you excuse.

“Okay, okay. But you owe me extra kisses tonight.” He winks.

“You’ll have to get them out of me yourself.” You tease.

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry. I’ll take every little kiss I can.” He says determinedly.

He pecks at your lips, savoring the sound and feeling of the act.

“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, and walks out the kitchen just as he walks in like earlier.

“Gumi! Food! Sit-your-silly-butt-and-eat! You rascal you.” Gojo lifts him by the armpits, and tickles him like a real dad.

Megumi is poker-faced at the tickling.

“Y/n, tell Gojo he’s being annoying.”

“Husband, you’re being annoying.” You murmur up at Gojo.

“Am I?” he smiles down at you, giving you another cheeky peck.

Megumi sighs.

“Stop spyin’ and start eating, little lotus.” Gojo threatens playfully.

“Dad. Save the flower nicknames for Y/n.” Megumi scrunches his nose up.

Gojo's face lit up. “Okay, okay. Enjoy eating, I'm gonna go see where she went off to.”

He hurried into the bedroom where you had wandered into and excitedly whisper-shouted “He called me dad!” he gushed like he was the happiest man alive.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[savnofilter]

At First | Izuki Midoriya

      Pro Hero!Izuku Midoriya x Fiancé![FEM]Reader

WARNING(S): sexual content, brat!reader, oral (f -> m), face fucking, reader low-key annoying asf, reader gets their doonies beat down, reader is a crier and squirter, mating press, reader is folded as she gets fucked, sometimes Midoriya gives mercy, sex with (barely) any clothes on, Midoriya is a big fan of eye contact, hickies, reader has brunch with bsf in the morning, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k (14 mins).

READ MORE: masterlist + [students masterlist]

A/N: this originally was supposed to be written during panini19 so i had to come up with a new context as to why reader and midoriya were 'stuck' together. ☠️ either way i think i salvaged this pretty okay! wish i had finished this sooner lol... but anyways, thank you anon & @chxrryp0p !!

Being cooped up in your shared penthouse was starting to become unbearable.

For Midoriya, less for you.

You see, recently, Midoriya has been on break for about a month, and the country was trying to adjust to it all. At certain times, he would have to clock in for emergency missions. Still, other than that, he has been vacationing with you, his fiancé, for about a month now.

At first, it was terrific. The saying that the heart grows fonder the longer you’re away is absolutely correct. Midoriya was all over you with his overwhelming urge to smother you in affection when he finally returned from being away for so long. You two would wake up, cook together, eat, have a good time for some of the afternoon, and then spend the rest of the night,, “catching up.” You did this routinely so that neither of you had to say what to do next for the day. You just knew. Later that night, you two would reconnect like tenfold when he would be off to save a city or something.

So yes, at first, it was great. Then, your behavior started to change.

However, not in a way that he found unbearable, but in a way that annoyed him. You would make little jokes about how “smol” he was—he hadn’t heard shit like that in years—or bluntly tease him about how subby and whiny he could get during sex.

“Hey, Izuku, can you get that for me?” You ask, pointing to the pair of headphones that dropped on the floor not too long ago.

Midoriya, being the kind fiancé he is, picks it up without a second thought, oblivious to your other ulterior motives. He’s met with a mischievous look when he hands you the earbuds, his brows furrowed in confusion when you grin at him. “What’s funny…?” He questions as he watches you start to giggle to yourself.

You shake your head and wave a dismissive hand at him. “Oh, nothing….” You teasingly chide him, thanking him for the kind gesture before folding your lips in to keep yourself from continuing to make jokes about him. He narrows his eyes, not necessarily at anything but indeed in annoyance. Midoriya rolls his eyes at what you were wordlessly insinuating.

“I’m not.”

“I’m just teasing you~” You sing in his ear and grin when he turns to you with a glare. “Do you want to prove it to me?”

“Prove what?” He mumbles against your lips. He rests his phone down to properly wrap his arms around your waist now that you two are face to face. “Why do you insist I’m “pure”-”

“You are!” You laugh, “I’m just saying… with us spending so much time together now, I think I’m just now realizing how cute you are…” You trail off and give the corner of his lips a chaste kiss as a mock reassurance. You maintain eye contact with him when you pull away and get between his legs, hands resting on his knees.

Midoriya now has a clear image of you on your knees in front of him with an expression of deviance that didn’t sit right with him. A flustered blush starts to form on his face before deepening a bit as he feels a boner begin to form. Your ‘outfit’ left almost nothing to the imagination, and the visual was starting to get to him. Rolling his eyes, your fiancé decides not to entertain or indulge your persistent behavior, though. His ignorance of your obvious motives makes you pout, crossing your arms as you challenge him. Your one-sided stare off with him ultimately bugs him, your hot gaze making him stare back at you. He sighs, resting his phone down again, and crosses his arms, his body language cutting you off. “But?”

“A sub would say no~” Your grin finds its way back to your face as you watch your boyfriend’s face twist into an expression of one you’ve never seen him wear before. The lucky sensation of hitting the jackpot crawls through your body; your plan finally falling into place. It was evident that your egging on was affecting him, and today, you made sure to wear something skimpy and easy to take off, too. It was only a matter of time before you could have him right where you wanted him.

Your fiancé tries ignoring you further, not wanting to deal with your brat behavior. Maybe he is a sub. Even with all this teasing, Midoriya still holds his urge to pin you down and fuck you into oblivion. But it felt different in his circumstance; if you could be a brat, he could also be a brat. He slowly shrugs off his annoyance, a deep sigh leaving him as he returns to scrolling on his phone and quietly gives you the silent treatment. There is no mistaking the disappointment that runs through your body, and now you’re thinking of the next part of your plan: provoke him with your actions.

Your hands on his knees slowly slide up his sweatpants, covering his thighs, squeezing periodically as they slowly rise on their intended arrival. You’re looking up at him with clear intent of what you will do, but he doesn’t look back.

‘fine, two could play at this game.’ a game at which you had started. You didn’t care about the audacity; you were in the mood to annoy your fiancé.

Your softly padded fingers finally make it to his hips. You lean up a bit to press more of your weight onto his body, the feeling making him budge. One of his favorite things about having sex with you was that he loved feeling your weight on him. Most times out of ten, when you did press against him, it was an easy ticket that would lead to the inevitable.

His cold demeanor still held up, although you knew his body was fighting to keep a strong front. You lean forward to kiss against his exposed abdomen; since he tends not to wear shirts at home, you can feel his soft but taught skin under your needy lips. One of your hands slips down to palm at his rising boner, a gentle hum of approval coming from you as you feel his length. Your other hand tugs at the side of his sweats, your eyes flickering to gaze at him.

He merely gives a glance once he realizes you’re looking at him, your eyes asking for permission. He presses his lips together and helps lift his hips, your kisses still descending to where he needed it most.

You don’t break eye contact until you have his cock freed from its confines, causing his length to tap you in the face lightly. Your mouth watered as it twitched once in need, and your pussy started to crave the feeling of wanting it inside there too. You double grip the base of his length before leaning in and pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his tip, your eyes now back on him again. The game of getting him off his phone is proven successful as he now has his full attention on you, his expression nothing but lust with a noticeable building pressure of his annoyance behind it. His breathing has deepened, though, and that was due to the fact you knew how to suck him off real good.

Your tongue laps at his tip, the textured and wet muscle dragging across the sensitive part, making his hips buck up to feel more of it. A grunt from deep within his chest lets you know his patience is starting to run thin, and it took everything in you not to smile. Still, you continue to tease. Your hands languidly stroking at his lengthy dick, a soft hum coming from you as the taste of pre-cum starts to cover your taste buds.

Midoriya would be a panting mess on a regular day, begging you for more, but today, he was feeling different. Today, you were making him feel feral. The way you can push his buttons was no joke, but you always knew when not to cross a line. With one hand, he rested his hand on top of your head. He slowly forces your mouth further onto his length, a slight but sadistic smirk clawing at his lips, watching as your hands stop their stroking to find refuge on the conjuncture of where his hips and thighs meet, needing to brace yourself as you take in his entire length into your mouth.

“Suck.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the tip of his cock poke at the back of your throat, his hand unmoving, and you know that you have no choice but to do as he says. With all the might you can courage, you suckle as you can, drool starting to pool from how open your mouth sat on his member. When you whimper and tap his leg, he finally lets you up on his own accord. Midoriya decides to be generous and lets you start at your own pace. At first, you were going at a comfortable pace, the tempo and suction he was used to, and he couldn’t complain. But just like many times during this break when he has given you an inch, you would sprint a mile.

An ingenious idea pops up in your head to catch him off guard. While bobbing your head, you reach the base of his length and deep throat him again, just like when you first started. But this time, you didn’t shy away from looking up at him with fake innocence as you pulled away and took it slow instead. Midoriya’s once complicit hand now grips your hair to control your bobbing. The more he guides you, the more he doesn’t stop himself from reveling in the sight of you starting to become a slobbering mess as your attempts to tease were really starting to piss him off. Midoriya then places both his hands on the side of your head after widening his stance on the ground and sprawls a bit to gain more strength in his movements. You weren’t sure what he was doing until a strong kick of your gag reflex hit you.

He fucks his hips into your mouth as you try to keep up, eyes alarmed and hands gripping at him for support. You now had no other choice but to take him in, still bobbing your head like the greedy brat you are. You could faintly hear his labored breathing over the sounds of your poor mouth taking in his face fucking, the feeling sending deep arousal straight to your crouch.

You shift as you try to somehow ease the tension between your thighs, your eyes now prickling with tears in frustration as you so badly want to touch yourself. The ability to do that was simply impossible because you had no choice but to take your fiancé’s girthy cock in your mouth. You squeeze your thighs together to release the build-up tension in your loins, trying to brace yourself for what will happen next.

“Look at me,” Midoriya commands, a tug at your hair, making you peek an eye at him. You don’t miss the dark look in his eyes as you undoubtedly look at a mess. All of your control surrendered to him and the rough pace of his hips. For a moment, he stops altogether, and your confused eyes are peering up at him again for guidance. He tugs you off by the base of your neck, eyes dark as he stands up. Consequently, your confusion doesn’t last very long before he’s guiding your head to retake his length now that he’s standing up.

It’s obscene how the sound of you swallowing his cock echoes in the spacious living room; the bustling city sounds quickly drowned out by your full mouth, his heavy breathing, and even some of his soft profanities and sounds of pleasure to accompany yours. You don’t try to hide that you have now slipped one of your hands into your loose and tiny shorts, your other hand holding onto him for support. Your knees, although separated enough to take in his rough thrusts, were probably starting to bruise, but you didn’t care. You shamelessly moaned as your fingers played with your wet snatch; the slight hum to your noises aiding you not to gag on his length.

“Look at me, Y/N.” Midoriya tugs at your hair again to let you know he means business. Once you look up at him, he groans at your tear-filled eyes and presses you fully against the bush at the base of his cock. He holds you there as he wordlessly finishes down your throat, rocking his hips to ride the rest of his load into the back of your throat. You gurgle on his length before he pulls you away, you recoiling as you desperately try to gain your breath back from it being prolongedly taken away from you. He watches you choke and catch your breath, patting your hair down as you compose yourself. “You alright?”

You nod and wipe your mouth, only for him to grip your wrist and pick you up. He quickly tosses you onto the couch, and he’s on you, leaning down to give your messy mouth a searing kiss. His hands are heavy and fast on you, his fingers tugging down your useless tank, and his other moves your shorts and panties to the side, not bothering to get a lick of clothes off your body correctly. As you’re distracted by the kiss, he slips his tip into you, the poke making you flinch at the contact. Your hands helplessly grip him as he pulls away.

Midoriya looks down between both of you to watch as his cock splits you open, his hands finding the back of your knees and pressing your thighs close to your chest in a mating press. You gasp as you can’t help but suck in a small breath and feel the weight of his cock slip inside you, the position not allowing you to adjust.

“Z-Zuku, wait—!” You pleaded. A winded groan escapes your lips, and you tilt your head against the sofa. “I-I have brunch tomorrow afternoon! I can’t take it like this-”

“Mm, should’ve thought of that before pissing me off.” Midoriya dismisses your sorry excuse to get out of this mess. A mess you started. A mess that you curated. A mess that you caused. He wasn’t having any of it. If you wanted him like this, then he’d play the role.

Despite his words before, he did give you a moment or two before he began thrusting inside of your hungry cunt. His thrusts were heavy and fast, and he wasn’t sparing you the grace of not bottoming out, which he knew you hated. The noises you let out were nothing but obscene. The leather couch squeaked in protest while your moans fought back in an obnoxious match of who could desperately cling to reality. Your pussy is so undoubtedly wet, and your sloppy blowjob from earlier helped with the fact he had no issues to hinder him fucking you silly now.

He watches in glee with hungry eyes as your face rivals a pornstar, and nothing but lust and submission is written all over your face. With each thrust, your chest jiggles at the force, the sight making his cock twitch again. He waits no longer to lean down and take a nipple into his mouth, teeth nipping at the sensitive bud before sucking feverishly. He loves your chest, and the fact that at this pace made them look more delectable. He is generous in leaving other marks on your chest to compliment your clear skin, wanting everyone to know what you made him do. A chuckle tickles your skin as he can’t help but find it funny that your words aren’t coherent anymore.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? To be fucked like a little slut?” Midoriya spits out at you as he straightens to hold your thighs up. He moves to the side of the couch so your lower body rests on the arm of the chair, an angle that makes your body fold from the hold. His heavy thrusts successfully knock the wind out of you, the impact springing, overstimulating tears to your eyes. Your trembling hands were trying hard to keep up by gripping the seat beneath you, but it was useless. Your feeble attempts were no match for him.

Your whimpering at the new angle is all he needed to know that you are enjoying this. It was evident by the way that the tears that rolled down your face were evidence that you were indeed close. He glares down at you as he speaks, “Touch yourself, Y/N.”

You tilt your head up and hum as you almost didn’t hear him. He reaches down to roughly rub your clit to wake you up, the gesture indeed doing the job. You cry out at the feeling and hurriedly reach down to do the work instead, a shiver wracking through you as you follow his command. Your cunt is unbelievably tight around him, and the squeeze makes him dizzy. “Cum, please let me cum, please,” You beg, getting lost in his fucking. There were no thoughts at all in your head. Just dick and knowing you wouldn’t get off easy if you came without asking.

Your fiancé grunts as you start to fumble with your words, bearing witness to you getting fucked so stupid that you had no choice but to fall into what you knew you needed most. Today, although you irked him to no end, Midoriya was feeling gracious and let you release first after feeling his second climax coming around the corner. When you finish, it happens so fast that it was almost painful. Your body shook as you squirted on him and yourself, your body freezing as your walls pulsed around his length, his hips stuttering against yours as he couldn’t help but finish in you. Midoriya leans down to sloppily kiss you as you both come down from your high. It wasn’t long before he was pulling away and flipping you over, hands on your breasts and his chest pressed against your back as his cock was back inside your sensitive cunt. Midoriya was sure that you were fucked dumb at this point, but he, too, was pussy drunk over you as well.

Indeed, a few more rounds could cure his lust.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

"Y/N!" Your best friend calls out to you when she notices your figure approaching her.

You smile and awkwardly walk over to her, a noticeable limp to your stride as much as you try to hide it. She raises a brow at the display, her eyes trailing your unmistakably disheveled appearance. However, you did look put together all the while.

“You okay, N/N?”

“Y-Yeah! Of course, why?” You rush to answer her question with your own. You and her have a stare-down once she notices you haven’t sat down yet, and you know the act added to her suspicion.

“Why won’t you sit down?” She accuses, brow raised. You nervously laugh it off and forcefully push her shoulder as your rough handling earns a dirty look from her.

“I’m getting there, you know?!” You smile hard, your words with a grit added to your speech from your teeth being clenched together. Still, the awkward eye contact continues as you try to hide the wince as you sit in front of her. Suddenly, her eyes and face lit up like a bulb had gone off.

“No fuckin’ way-!”

“Watch your freaking mouth,” You mumble as people start to look over, and you try to cover up your skin that exposes your neck.

“I’m going to take a wild guess that the reason you didn’t respond to me till this morning, didn’t join the group call, now wearing suspiciously warm clothes for the hot weather and walking weirdly is because of him?” She leans on the table to get a closer look at you with a shit-eating grin as if she already knew the answer.

“... yes.” You also break out into a stupid grin, you two giggling like madmen as she slaps your arm at the admission.

“So the plan worked?! You got to tell me everything!”

As you catch your friend up on everything, you can’t help but feel bad for egging Midoriya on for as long as you did… but it was all worth it. At first, the idea to annoy him was simply a dare. Still, soon enough, it became a plan to see another side of your fiancé you realize you had never seen before.

After the many rounds yesterday, you did find out and learn your lesson, though. Before you fell asleep for the night, you did apologize to him for being a brat, and you two fell asleep to a movie after having a much-needed takeout meal that rivaled a mukbang from your activities.

One thing was for sure, though: your state of the aftermath was a great way to remind yourself not to annoy him as much as you had prior.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[bluegiragi]

The movement, dynamism and emotion of the characters is so engaging and audiences clearly adore the relationships and stories you tell with your art

Occasionally though, there's something awkward about the proportions of some of the figures in your work. The stomach to pelvis area of the konig piece seems abnormally long, though accentuated by his posture. Sometimes the heads of characters also look both elongated at the jaw and also too small for their bodies, which feel a little unrealistically shaped at times

I've been noticing these points for some months now, wondering if proportioning would improve with time. You have a very distinct storytelling style, and I understand that this message might come across as unkind, but I don't know how else to word it and I don't know if anyone would be willing to point it out to you considering your successes and status in the cod fandom

Whatever you choose to make of these words, even if you delete the message immediately, I'm certain your work will continue to grow and thrive, and I do wish you every future success that you earn

hello anon! I apologise if I’ve come off as complacent in my art over the past months, but I assure you I am always doing my best to improve my art, and I think I have in some areas. Believe me, I am at all times very aware of my shortcomings as an artist.

I want to thank you for wording this in such a considerate way, but would also invite you to not send messages like this in the future to artists who aren’t clearly asking for critique. I don’t believe my art is making massive missteps that require education (such as drawing poc features in an offensive way, or anything else that might justify some immediate words of advice), and the insinuation that I am not improving fast enough is a little hurtful, as is the idea that a lot of people are somewhere, quietly agreeing with this viewpoint and choosing not to tell me because of some perceived, ephemeral status in a fandom.

I hope I’m not coming off as defensive here. I just think I’ve never positioned myself as someone who has nothing more to learn, and in fact mentions many times that my anatomy is not perfect, and that I have a long way to go. Thank you for your advice, but in the future, I believe it might be best to just assume the artist knows their own weaknesses.

[smnthchrstn]

see a list of prompts here. send a request here. see my previous work here, here, here & here. thank you! i don't currently take anons for my own safety and sanity, but if you have a private request feel free to message me and i can post it without using your url! notes: word count is 1,644. austin is your coworker, you're both working side by side on the bikeriders. he helps ground you after a ptsd episode. tw for mentions of sa/assault/past abuse. dedication: this one shot is dedicated to my gf @vintagecherri may we always be able to comfort each other in our darkest times. thank you for teaching and reminding me to always be gentle with myself, even when i feel i have failed the most. xoxo

safe here with me | austin butler x reader

"And cut!"

You sucked in a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed and then open again as you tried to regain your composure. That scene had really gotten to you, and you'd nailed it on the first go. You almost had forgotten about the man sitting in the same room as you. His eyes grew from vacancy to attentive, searching your face for some sign that you were doing okay. Your breathing became a bit jagged as the director told everyone they'd done a fantastic job and that they'd be moving on for the day.

The man across from you was your co-star, Austin. And you two had been getting to know each other for quite some time, especially since arriving in Cincinnati to film a movie about a biker club from the 1960s. You played his wife, he played your husband - a wild, crazy, pained young man who got a thrill out of doing the most dangerous things and not caring what anyone thought about it. You'd learned, in time, that Austin was the complete opposite. Most of the time anyway. You'd developed a friendship, although sometimes it seemed like more. You knew he looked at everyone like that, like they were the world's greatest treasure in his eyes. He had a way of captivating people and making them feel as if they were the only other person on earth.

"Hey, Y/N," a low and gravel-y voice asked, and you'd realized he'd been saying it for a few moments at least. Your eyes had glazed over, your hands were shaking as you wrapped your arms around your frame. "Are you okay?" the blonde man before you asked, his eyes filled with worry as he saw the way you'd reacted since the day had been called. "I..yes," you finally mustered enough courage up to answer. "Yes. I'm fine." You took a very shaky breath, running both hands through your long hair. "Completely fine." Austin finally stood, holding his hand out to help you up, and you took the help. He led you back outside to his trailer, holding the door for you and you felt inclined to join him, to follow.

"Hey, you know," he tried to begin saying, a little unsure of his own words. "You know, I don't have to tell you that I wouldn't necessarily react the way my character would to anything said or done." And with that, he walked to his mini fridge and got you out a cold water before taking a seat. You nodded, still a little jumbled up with your words. "I know, it's acting," you responded knowingly. Austin nodded, reaching beside him to pull a cigarette from his pack, placing it between his lips and lighting it. He took a deep drag into his lungs, flicking the ashes away into one of his own homemade ashtrays. You still felt small. You always did when topics like that would come up.

"I know that scene was a little heavy," he said, the smoke billowing around him in a cloud. "Yeah, I mean, it's okay," you said easily enough, with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. "I'm more than capable of handling serious scenes." Sure, you hadn't had too much practice before this with acting, but you'd done well enough to nail the part and you'd been doing a fantastic job. "Oh no, no, Y/N. I wasn't trying to insinuate at all that you aren't meant to be here. You are, you are the best scene partner I could ask for. I've loved getting to know you and becoming your friend," Austin explained, pausing to take another puff of his cigarette. You weren't sure where he'd been trying to go with this conversation. "I couldn't help but notice the way you mentally checked out after that scene, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

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

"Don't you, get away from me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs. Your chest burned, your stomach throbbed, everything inside you felt torn apart and hurt, broken and unfixable. And even after you'd received medical attention it still hurt. For days, for weeks, months, even years. You had residual pain that wouldn't go away, you'd been to the hospital and you'd seen doctors, and you had the nightmares that would wake you up in tears some nights. The assault had made your life a living hell, one that you often hadn't wanted to wake up from. You'd thought of countless ways to end it, to stop the pain from continuing.

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

Big hands moved over your shaky ones, holding them in place. "Hey." His cigarette had been put out since you'd involuntarily closed your eyes. Your breathing became uneven, you were having trouble catching your breath. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, softening his voice, calming blue eyes filled with worry. "S-sorry," you managed to stutter. If you could think straight you would've been so embarrassed. Having such a massive panic attack in front of your new friend and co-star, not to mention a guy that you were absolutely smitten with was mortifying for you. It had been years, you thought you'd been "over" this. Austin placed a hand on your cheek, moving his thumb over your jaw and checking you over. He reached down and over, taking your wrist gently between two fingers and counting in his head. He did that for a moment or two before shaking his head. "Come sit next to me," he said, holding his arm out for you to come closer. "Please." You shakily moved to sit beside him and didn't protest when he pulled you in against his chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. "You're safe," he assured you in a low tone. He hadn't the slightest idea of what you'd gone through, but he knew what a panic attack looked like and what trauma looked like - and he knew you'd experienced something horrendous in your past. Austin worked to keep his breathing and heart rate steady, wanting to help to ground you as much as he could. You could hear the gentle lub-dubs in his chest, the soft beating that kept him alive. and it did soothe you unlike anything else had before. You felt his hand on your back, rubbing in gentle circles, breathing loudly as to remind you that it was okay to breathe and that filling your lungs with air would be a good thing, maybe the best thing for you right now.

After some time, he took your pulse again wanting to make sure that your heart rate had come down some. "There we go, slowly making its way down," he murmured, keeping you close to him, still pressed against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat grounded you and you thought maybe you’d be able to talk a little about what had happened during that scene. “Reminded me of something that happened a few years back,” you began. “With my ex-boyfriend. Hadn’t been dating that long or anything and,” she said, shaking her head a little. “He, he told me he’d stop,” you whispered, giving him a heartbreaking look. “He promised he would stop before he even started but he didn’t,” you whispered, beginning to cry again. “He broke my trust. He didn’t stop and it happened. And, and,” you said, your lungs aching from the gasps you were making. “I, and I,” you tried to say, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your head spinning. You could feel yourself back there again as your breathing became more and more labored. “Someone took advantage of you,” you finally heard the deep voice say. “Yes. Yeah, my ex-boyfriend hurt me. And that scene reminded me of that. I’m sorry, I’m a professional. I, I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered.

It didn’t surprise you when you felt his fingers against your wrist again, searching for the magic number of beats per minute, wanting to help bring you back down to earth if he could. “Hey, take a few deep breaths, okay? I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, and I want you to know I will never hurt you like that.” The two of you hadn’t even spoken about a romantic relationship, aside from the flirtations that happened after filming and sometimes on set. Austin leaned back some against the couch in his trailer, bringing you with him cautiously. “There you go,” he whispered, moving one hand to your back and making sure you were pressed up against his chest again. You allowed yourself to focus. You could feel his breathing against you, the rise and fall of his abdomen and the soft puttering of his heartbeat. “There you go,” he said, combing his fingers through your long hair, attempting to soothe you. “There we go,” he said again, dancing his fingers over your back. “Deep breaths, after me.” And with his help, you were able to catch your breath. “You’re safe here with me, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your head, wanting to comfort you and relieved that your body seemed to be relaxing. “I’m sorry that triggered these feelings and memories for you. And when you’re ready, you tell me all about that, as much as you’d like to, okay? I’ll be here. I’ll listen and I’ll hold your hand to help it keep from shaking.” You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, your ear still filled with the sound of the man’s heartbeat. “You mean that really?” You asked, almost shocked that someone would take that kind of time to comfort and learn you. “Yeah. I really do.” You took another gentle breath and allowed your eyes to close, snuggling in comfortably against Austin. You’d never felt such comfort in your life, and looked forward to being in his.

[seduzist]

HIII

a lil request … dominant!katniss/ bottom!reader hcs?

skip if ur uncomfortable🫶🏼🫶🏼

hii! hope you like it anon! 💘

⤷ katniss is very, very romantic and intimate in bed for as crazy as it seems. those moments w/ you is when she feel more comfortable and vulnerable to show her real self without having to look tough or anything, so she likes to use these times to show how much she loves and cares for you, since she’s not good w/ words and doesn’t know exactly how to demonstrate.

⤷ she’ll kiss all over your body, if you have scars - from the games or the war - she’ll make sure you don’t feel insecure about it, she haves her own scars and she couldn’t care less about that, in fact, she likes it, shows how much strong you both were.

⤷ she’s definitely very skilled with her hands, whatever if it’s for the experience with arrows or the traps for the animals she did at the florest, or maybe for all the nights she spent making love w/ you and learning every touch or spot that made your eyes roll back.

⤷ she liked the ambient to be filled w/ the sound of your heavy pants and moans, along with her heavy breath, but she loved to whisper things in your ear, making the atmosphere even more intense.

⤷ “you look so pretty underneath me like this.” “it’s okay, i got you, you’re doing so good.” “you’re perfect, so beautiful.”

⤷ if you want her to be rough at you, you would have to really want it, and tell her that it’s okay and that’s what you want for a long time before she fully accepts it, she been raised thinking that protecting someone of getting hurt was the best love gesture so it would be very uncomfortable for her to inflict any pain on you, even if you ask her to, at least in the beginning she’ll get very insecure about being too much.

⤷ she’ll almost never initiate it, besides her shyness, she’ll find it much better if you were the one to bring the idea up, being with direct words or with a longer kiss, it makes her sure that you really want her and isn’t just agreeing w/ whatever she asks you to.

⤷ also, you have to let her know you’re enjoying it!!! she prefers when you say so with words or insinuates this with your body, but if you go quiet for a moment or just flinch showing the slightest hint of pain she’ll immediately stop and ask you if everything’s fine.

⤷ being so careful w/ you while you have sex, this wouldn’t change on aftercare, she’ll made sure to give you everything you need afterwards, if you’re hungry she’ll cook you something, if you’re thirsty she’ll bring water, if you want to immediately sleep she’ll cover you in a blanket and if you just wanna cuddle and talk a little bit she’ll happily put your head on her chest and listen to you all night long. that’s probably her favorite.

[ronearoundblindly]

For the dirty A-Z headcanon game can I get an A for Steve Rogers?

From this ask game, and I love you to the end of the line, anon, because this is pretty much THE one I wanted to answer...

A - Alone Time

How does he get off when all by himself?

Does he watch porn?

Is it all in his imagination?

Does he jerk off?

Does he use toys?

In case it wasn't obvious... MINORS DNI (vaguely coded to be gender neutral for the possibility of steve x reader or stucky or whatever your flavor)

Here we go, babes. I know I've written several different versions of Steve in various universes, but this is gonna be more generalized and not involve the very specific background experiences I've written into other things. This is just my good ol' fashioned headcanon of Steve masturbating!

This man takes his time--or at least would prefer to--even when it's just him. He will gently touch/play with himself for a while before grabbing his dick. Grazing his nails over his thighs. Pinching his nipples. I think this dude really has a thing with his throat? Like he thinks about teeth along his neck or being pulled forward by it and, yes, a squeeze or two. Don't flame me, I'm just saying!

He craves foreplay, is what I mean, and I don't think Steve feels fully aroused unless more than just his genitals are involved in the act, ya know?

He watches porn, but only for examples. There's a whole lot in modern pornography that is a huge turn-off for him. Steve uses certain imagery or sounds/sayings that he found in porn and kinda edits them together for his pleasure later--like mentally edits, lord knows, because that man would not get the hang of Final Cut Pro OR iMovie, feel me?--plus that way he can imagine a certain someone's voice actually saying those things to him or doing them to him.

Which brings us to Steve's imagination which is unbelievably vivid and runs rampant. Think about it: he's a strategist. He has to see tons of possible scenarios play out all at once, analyze where that leads and where that leaves him, and then plan to thwart or redirect all that happens into an ideal outcome. Don't tell me that artist does not have an incredible mind's eye.

Then we get to Steve finally touching himself expressly to come.

He's toyed with himself for a while, maybe gotten close but held back, probably enjoyed finding friction not with his fist. For some reason, I thoroughly believe he has a thing for fabrics? This guy enjoys the glide of silk and satin. I bet his sheets are nice and slick so he can thrust against them a little and think of a pretty skirt or a dressy, formal glove.

Actual toys? Like the kind advertised as sex toys? Like the kind he'd have to purchase with money in some capacity? No. I think shy Steve hasn't figured out a way to discreetly (and by that I mean, untraceably) do that. He refuses to use anything online attached to his name--credit card or secondary/digital wallet whatever--to buy something or to tell someone what he would want them to buy for him because then that person would know! He'd keel over from embarrassment right then and there!! ARE YOU INSANE?!?!

No. What Steve will do is get seemingly useful things for innocuous reasons and play dumb blond if anyone ever insinuates it could be a sex toy. That man can and will absolutely lie like a champ to keep those secrets. That man is a super soldier but his muscles still get sore; that's what the massager is for, not his taint, nuh-uh no how. How dare you ask him!

Which brings us to the climax: his climax.

Steve prefers to finish in the shower. He's spent all that time enjoying the feel of his hands or various textures, the dry (but not painful) drag of everything before the slick lubrication of lotion or conditioner creates a welcome high under the spray of water, and then, yes, he can clean himself right off afterward. Highly efficient. Also very effective at training his brain to get off quickly in a shower if necessary.

Strategy, you guys, it's all about strategy.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Are my answers to these like an audition for the Shameless Hoe Club? Maybe. Or maybe Ro has just lost the ability to filter herself...or care 🤭

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[yuurei20]

Oh hey! First of all, thanks for all your hard work!

I've been pondering about something lately. I know Lilia calls Silver 'son' during Spectral Soiree but that might be just EN adaptation. Do you remember any instance of Lilia calling Silver 'his son' in JP server? (It caught my attention how he refers to him as 'the child he takes care of' in Diasomnia Book)

Hello hello!! Thank you so, so much for the ask anon, you are amazing, absolutely right, and Lilia's actual wording from Spectral Soiree even repeats in Book 7!

Not only does Lilia not call Silver his son, but his phrasing insinuates that he comes close and then changes his mind:

Lilia's words trail away before he finishes speaking, but he might have just barely stopped himself from saying, "an admirable son."

That seems to be what EN's interpretation was: the word "son" was even added outright to the English-language game, but Lilia did not actually say it.

I have not been able to find any instance of Lilia calling Silver his son in the original game (and a quick search reveals that is a not-uncommon topic amongst JP players that we all want Lilia to finally say it), but I will keep you posted if anything arises!

(Temporarily breaking this blog's rule of not commenting on Book 7 under the cut, for when Lilia's wording repeats! Small Book 7 spoiler inside ↓)

During Silver's flashback to his childhood, Lilia uses the exact same word from Spectral Soiree (立派な) to describe "an admirable acorn bracelet" that Silver made for him.

Was Lilia remembering this interaction with child-Silver, and that is why his words trailed off?

For the curious, I think this is the scene that anon is referencing: During Sebek's flashback to the day his grandfather asked Lilia to train him, Lilia says that 7-year-old Sebek is about the same age as the child he takes care of (has custody of, etc.)--he does not call Silver is his son (though Silver himself does).

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 👑HERA: QUEEN OF THE GODS, GODDESS OF MARRIAGE, WOMEN, MARTIAL HARMONY, AND THE PROTECTOR OF WOMEN DURING CHILDBIRTH 💒

Author's Note: Hi everyone, so some of you have been expecting this. I wasn't lying that I hadn't give it some thought but I didn't write this earlier since I wasn't sure how I could make it work. It might not be what you guys expected but here it is. This is going to be a stretch and please suspend your expectations for this. This is for the anons who asked if I could do Hera. I tried. This is what I came up with. Thanks for reading, liking, and reblogging! I really appreciate it! [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

*Warning: Immense wall of text below [Keep Reading]

I can only see this happening, given that Hera is very loyal to Zeus, and how a demigod child of Hera is born. 

You’re a child of Zeus when the King of the Gods became mortal (SOMEHOW) temporarily and Hera supported him like the loyal wife she is. 

You’re either born like how Athena births her children, where Hera thought about (a) mortal man, or like Hebe (in some mythological records) where she was born from Hera eating a piece of lettuce, from Hera by herself, but was somehow born half-mortal, instead of immortal. 

You were crafted out of clay by Hera? Maybe???

You were born when Hera had become mortal herself (SOMEHOW????), born with Zeus’s help *COUGH*. 

Regardless, your existence or any other demigod child of Hera is unheard of. Like it was not even a thought of possibility. 

No one is sure how to proceed or wrap their minds around your existence. I don’t think you’re told how you were born, but even if you were told, you’re sworn by the River of Styx not to tell anyone except outside a few very selective approved individuals. This is because out of the listed reasons above, only one doesn’t insinuate anything relating to the King or Queen of Gods being mortal; which would reveal a weakness to the two monarchs of the Gods and the harmony of peace among the gods, or indicate Hera of cheating which would break the foundation of marriage and the law behind it. This unfortunately creates a lot of gossip behind your back about your godly mother and you’re the physical representation of it. Something Hestia herself tells you about, in a disapproving way to your godly parent.  

There are immediate renovations to the Hera cabin, mostly because it is not livable at all. You’re temporarily put in the Big House until things are done to the Hera cabin. Annabeth has been given an official ‘pardon’ by Hera because of this, so there’s that? At least.

Annabeth isn’t sure how to interact with you, given Hera’s clear distaste to her, and how you’re her daughter, but at the same time you’re also innocent. 

Percy is also a bit conflicted given Hera was the one who gave him the amnesia and the whole camp Half-blood and Jupiter thing, but he goes about it a bit easier because he knows all about bearing their godly parents misdeeds and grudges and all that. 

On the other hand, you’re living with the knowledge that by technicality, a lot of people could’ve been married under the Ancient Greek laws. For example, Percy and Annabeth could be or would’ve been married when you heard that they were playing hacky sack with an apple and if Percy threw the apple at Annabeth, and she caught it, it would’ve technically counted as “accepting a marriage proposal”, and they were married-

Your mother’s domain is technically powerful and important but at the same time, it’s not very useful to you; considering there’s a lack of married individuals among the campers and the only one who is married is Mr. D, but you don’t dare to. But it’s not like you can do anything anyway since he is a god and you’re just a demigod…that and he’s been avoiding you.

Mr. D just avoids you and you’re not sure until someone tells you that Hera tricked his mother, Semele, into making Zeus reveal his true form to her to prove he was Zeus, evaporating her. 

If Camp Half-blood has the aura of uncertainty, then Camp Jupiter is the opposite. The treatment towards you is the opposite where they treat you with reverence but because Juno is so revered, being her child makes you feel isolated.

The cabins that are at odds with you are the Aphrodite, Zeus, Athena cabins, while the cabins that are more cordial with you are the Hebe, and surprisingly the Ares and Hephaestus cabins. 

At least there are a bunch of beautiful white lilies at Hera’s cabin, making the cabin more of a place to live than a renovated temple. The lilies are there because it is said they were born from her. 

Argus is also your bodyguard for a reason. He was created by Hera for the sole purpose of being a guard and watchman, and considering you are the daughter of Hera, you fall under his duties. Not long after you were born, when you have grown out of the age protection Hera can protect you from, and Hebe when you’re past 8 years old, the monsters start coming into droves. There are monsters immediately trying to kill you, not just fueled because you’re a powerful demigod, but because of also Lamia, who she personally comes hunting for you. This is because Lamia, when she was a mortal queen and had the eye of Zeus, Hera was responsible for killing all of her children and became what she is now, and is also responsible for monsters hunting demigods to this day. Argus is only able to protect you only for so long so sharpen your skills and fight for your life. 

When you get claimed, the world goes absolutely silent. Everyone stares upon the claim mark floating above your head, a peacock, like its a crown above your head. The spread feathers of the peacock does certainly make it look like one. With a crown above your head and a field of white lilies sprouting beneath your feet like a white carpet, it almost makes you think you’re a child of royalty being announced.  But you don’t let yourself be that deluded much longer. They stare at the mark longer than you like to admit, some blinking and rubbing their eyes as if they are seeing an illusion. You already know who your godly parent is, so you know the claim is just a message to Camp Halfblood. 

That you are the demigod child of Hera. A being that has not been thought of to even possibly exist. An impossible existence. 

Yet here you are. And you knew how. And yet you couldn’t tell any of them because Hera made you swear to not reveal that information to anyone outside of a very selected few confidants. If they knew any of the truths, then it would break the balance of the gods and would bring chaos to them; threatening them and you. 

The claim begins to fade, disappearing into glittering lights and as it falls upon you, so do the campers’ eyes. Thousands and thousands of eyes stare at you, not for you, but what you are. 

Argus stands beside you, standing like a guard and his protective stance only adds to the confirmation.

Mr. D drops his can of diet coke and as it splatters across the floor, Chiron finally breaks out of his stupor. He kneels and bows before you, his limbs shaking a bit as he stutters as he announces. 

“The bloodline is determined. Hera, Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Marriage, Women, Martial harmony, and protector of women during Childbirth. Hail, [y/n] [l/n], child of the queen of the gods.”

There is silence before chaos erupts as everything is turned over their heads.

[darling-i-read-it]

Limo

Johnny Cage x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k 

Warnings: jealousy/insecurity, insinuations to smut (natural johnny jokes), lots of drinking for some reason idk what i was on 

Author’s Note: i loveee johnny and writing for him is so fun. I think i kinda mixed the spicy fluffy lol, i hope you liked it darling!! I had sm fun with him <3 

Requested: by anon, I loved your Johnny Cage fic. Can I request another one where he’s with the reader, but she’s still nervous he still has feelings for Sonya? Fluffy or spicy ending is completely up to you, but a happy ending for everyone is all I ask. You’re the best!!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Johnny wouldn’t call himself a frequent drinker. He liked to have a beer at events and a glass when he was winding down at home. Sometimes he would have a nightcap, just to end things right. Every once in a while he would go out drinking with friends. Well, he liked to drink with you, that was always fun. 

So maybe Johnny was a frequent drinker. But he wouldn’t call it a problem. 

Your giggles were like music to his ears. He could hear them from another room, identify it in a crowded space. He sat across from you on your shared California king bed. The bedroom was filled with posters from his movies, larger than life, a huge TV hanging from the wall. There was a discarded beer bottle beside you. You had a glass of your favorite in hand, something Johnny had made for you. He was a bartender in a movie. Ten years ago. 

“No more Jon. No more,” you said, and you were still giggling. 

“C’mon, c’mon. Don’t be a party pooper.” His words were slurred. You could understand him despite it. 

“There’s no party!” you argued lightly. It was just the two of you at home, in bed. He had turned on some music, connecting it to a speaker in the lights. He had the whole place rigged with random electronics. 

“This is our party,” he said, grabbing your hands. He spilled your glass and you were both laughing again. 

“You’ve been to real life parties Johnny. All the good ones, the crazy Hollywood ones. You call this a party?” 

“Yes! This is my favorite kind of party!” 

You were only slightly intoxicated. In fact, you were mostly drunk from Johnny's presence. You enjoyed moments where you just got to sit together, laughing at his absurdness. People tend to think it’s his downfall. In truth, it was the most charming thing about him. You had never known Johnny to be anything except pleasant and funny. 

“Oh come on,” you said. You put down your glass beside you. Your bedside table was covered in things, from tissues to pills. You looked back up at him. He had sunglasses on top of his head, even though the sun had gone down ages ago. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His natural state of being. “What’s been the craziest party you went to?” He thought about it for a moment. He sat back, letting go of your hands. You raised an eyebrow at his studious gaze. 

“There was one like five years ago. People were hangin’ upside down, snorting stuff!” He shook his head, laughing fondly (and drunkenly) at the memory. “Like from the ceiling from hooks! I tried to get up there but Sonya told me I wasn’t allowed to. She was always a party pooper, never wanted to have any fun in front of other people.” He shook his head, a far away look on his face. “She did let me lift her up so she could order us drinks over everyones head. That was hella smart,” he pointed out. 

Your face lost some of its joy at the mention of Sonya. You tried to bring your smile back, not let it bother you. Johnny had always been open about his past romances. He was a womanizer, it was part of his image. Even after his constant assurance, it bothered you a bit. The random girls less so. 

Sonya Blade though…

It was his longest relationship before you. They still worked together sometimes. He still mentioned her, off handedly, like she was a fond friend. 

“You good babe?” You blinked a couple of times, looking back in his eyes. You plastered a fake smile onto your face, trying to let the alcohol in your system sink in. You nodded quickly, grabbing your glass again and bringing it to your lips. 

“Perfect!” You cleared your throat. “Sounds insane.” 

“We should try that next time,” he said. “It was one of my better ideas.” You nodded again. He squinted, sitting all the way up on the bed. The comforter was all messed up from the two of you moving around it. He couldn’t exactly place what had gone wrong but he knew something had been changed.

“You have plenty of good ideas.”

“Yeah, one time I used my powers to get us free drinks.”

“You still do that.”

“It’s really successful. Can you blame me?” You shook your head. You finished your glass. Johnny studied you, squinting his eyes.

“I’m gonna get another glass.” 

“Wait wait, woah!” He grabbed your hand before you could go far. “Wait, something just happened but I don’t know what it was. The vibe changed.”

“Nothing changed,” you assured him. “I just want another glass!” Johnny didn’t know a lot but he knew you. He knew the way you smiled and the way you sometimes covered up your emotions to save him. Even when he said you shouldn’t, you did. 

But arguing with you seemed like a mute point. He wanted things to stay good. That’s all he’s ever wanted. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes Jon.” You leaned forward, giving him a kiss. His lips were plump and extremely kissable. It never failed to make you feel better. You kissed the edge of his mouth, leaving faint flutters on his skin. He smiled, shining his movie star smile. 

“Can you get me another too?”

-

Johnny hadn’t even broken a sweat. He could go for round after round and come out of it unscathed and ready for another. You hopped back up, rubbing the tiredness from your face. You stretched your neck back and forth. 

“Tired already?” he teased. You rolled your eyes. You guys had started to train more together. It saved you both a trip to a gym and it proved that you could get all your anger out in a healthy way. Healthy being a relative term. 

“I’m goin’ easy on you,” you joked. You stood up straight. 

“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he joked. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the edge of the matt so you could grab a drink of water. You were less ‘indestructible’ based and more ‘power’ based. “You know there’s always other stuff we can use the mat for.” He walked over to you, grabbing his own bottle. You gave him a look as you gulped down your water. He smiled suggestively. 

“I’m not falling for that this time.” 

“You make it sound like you aren’t a willing participant.” He flipped his water bottle and caught it. “Hey, there’s a party in the hills tonight. I was gonna go but I figured I could take you.” You hummed in consideration. He watched you eagerly. 

“Sounds like you have ulterior motives.” 

“I always have ulterior motives.” He was looking down at you with a hopeful gaze. Johnny’s eyes crinkled at the sides. Parties with him were always fun, if not overwhelming. He knew everyone and always wanted to talk to them. He dragged you around like a trophy. But by the end of the night, you were always laughing and always gleefully drunk and happily tied to his side.

He tilted his head. 

“Please?” 

You bit your cheek, making an exaggerated face of contemplation. 

“Alright.” 

“Yes!” He kissed your forehead, giving you finger guns. You rolled your eyes. “I’m gonna go start getting ready. Takes me forever, you know.”

“I know Johnny.” 

“I gotta call the limo.” 

-

“Drink! Over here!” 

“Johnny, you have to order the drink!” you said, laughing. He looked down at you, shaking his head. 

“They’ll figure it out!” “What’cha want man!?” 

“Fuck!” Johnny exclaimed. You laughed, knocking your head against the booth. You were shoved right beside Johnny, close enough where you were practically sitting on him. You had an arm over his shoulders, tracing things into his neck. It was making him restless. Which made him hot. “Something fruity!” 

“For the lady?!” 

“For me! I like fruity things!” Your laughter intensified. He turned back to you. 

“What? What?!”

“Nothing,” you promised. You patted his chest. You were both down a few. It was so loud. The flashing lights made you feel immediately higher than you were, Johnny’s voice drowning into the music. People’s voices were overlapping in excitement, there were bodies on bodies, sweat and spit swapping. 

The waiter gave Johnny some magical drink of unknown origins. He started to drink it immediately. 

“Oh fuck,” he muttered. “Sonya used to love this shit.” You tensed. You didn’t want to have this conversation here, now. 

“Yeah?” You receded your hand. You put it in your lap. 

“All tough girl but always liked the fruit drinks,” he explained. “Pineapple juice or something.” You grabbed your drink and took a swig. The liquid going down your throat felt good, despite the burn. 

“Hm.” He turned to you, noticing the absence of your touch. 

“You good?” 

“Great!” you lied.

“You sure?” You turned to him. You couldn’t be sure if it was the liquid courage or the environment but it made you want to say something. You wrapped your hands around the glass tightly. 

“You sure talk about Sonya a lot,” you observed. You hadn’t meant for your voice to come off as aggressive as it did. It was fueled by the constant silence, the moments where you bit your tongue. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was a flash of hurt across his eyes but you didn’t catch it. “I mean, if you wanna talk about her that much, you don’t have to do it with me. She’s your ex Johnny.” 

The music muffled in Johnny’s ears. It was like he was watching you speak outside of himself, like it wasn’t him you were speaking to. You were always fun and easy to bounce off of. You never showed any sort of issue with Sonya outwardly. 

“I didn’t know,” he said, voice almost inaudible over the club. 

“C’mon,” you grumbled. “I know all of the dates you guys used to go on. What kind of books she would read, the drinks she would order.” You fidgeted in your seat. You weren’t sitting on top of him anymore. “I mean, it’s like you still love her.” Your voice was laced with venom, all the insecurity behind it coming through. 

Johnny’s big puppy dog eyes fell. He had no idea you felt like that. He wished you had told him before. He started to shake his head aggressively, turning to face you with his entire body. He grabbed your hand gently. His big hand held yours with such soft intentions. 

“I don’t. I swear to you,” he said, trying his hardest to ground his voice. “I don’t love her anymore. I love you.” You didn’t make eye contact with him. “We were just together a long time, some of the stories I wanna tell you have her in it.” 

You finally met his eyes. You felt immediately embarrassed, sobering up quickly. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry I brought it up,” you said, shaking your head. 

“No, it’s something. It clearly bothers you.” He made you face him. His eyes were oozing with concern. He still looked kind of drunk but he could have fooled you. “I’m sorry.” He held your hands tightly, putting your drink back on the counter. 

“Me too.” 

“Don't apologize.” He bit his lip. “Baby.” 

“Johnny.” 

“You wanna dance with me or somethin?” You laughed gently. 

“I do.” 

“I promise I’ll stop bringing her up so much. I don't love anyone but you.” 

“Samesies.” 

“Cool.” 

“Cool.” He gestured with his head towards the dance floor. “Dance?” 

“Or we could skip the dancing all together and go back to the limo?” 

“My girl. My girl, my girl.” He inched closer to you, kissing you cupping your face. You felt entirely consumed by his scent. He stood up, holding your hand. He slipped off his shimmery jacket and handed it over to you. “It’s gonna be cold outside for a minute. Put this on.” “Yes sir.” He moved around the other people at the table, saying quick goodbyes to anyone sober enough to pay attention.  He threw his arm over your shoulder. You put your arm on his hip. He leaned down to whisper to you as you left. He tossed some money on the table. 

“I just wanted to put more clothes on you so I could take them off.” “I know Johnny.” 

“We should get matching tattoos.”

“Johnny, one thing at a time.”

[chaconnewon]

could u write about jake eating the reader out?

hello anon! thanks for your request and being the first <3 i hope you like it and it fills your expectatives.

skilled ─── s.jy

pairing: friend!jake x fem!reader wc: 1.1k tags: oral(female reciving), friends to ???, slightly hair pulling, mention of reader daydreaming, insinuation of a second round, lmk if i missed something !!

There was one thing you knew for sure: Jake was pretty good at everything. Even if it was his first time trying, he would accomplish the task successfully. He seemed to have the luck by his side, always impressing those who surrounded him. 

You were sceptical at first when he invited you to his place to show how good he can play piano. You’ve never seen him play piano or any other instrument. Even though the countless times you’ve been at his house, you didn’t see any of them. Was he trying to impress you? You above all the girls that were drooling behind him? 

But he was fucking right.

He played the piano in a way your stomach could flip. It didn’t feel like he just quickly learned the basics, he sounded smooth, confident while pressing the keys. Like he has been taking lessons since always.

Of course you couldn’t keep your mind quiet, and soon found yourself wondering if Jake was skilled at bed too. You felt ashamed to think like that about your friend but you couldn’t help it, how tempting those lips looked, or how pretty his slender, veiny fingers were while doing barely anything. You thought quietly, like somehow he could read your mind, if his finger could feel good inside you. 

‘’y/n, are you listening to me?’’

‘’Uhm… yeah!’’

Not at all. You were lost at the sight of his computer screen, a video game lobby showing up. You bet he was ranting about other players but your mind replayed his finger tensing on the keyboard, smashing them slightly whenever he died or his teammates made something useless.

Jake saw you peeking his hands very often. 

When he sighed, leaning back on his chair you sat up on his bed, fingers playing with nervousness on your lap.

‘’I’ve been thinking… Are you that good at everything?’’

‘’Are we having this conversation again, y/n?’’ he chuckles, shaking his head.

‘’No, no! I mean everything.’’ you emphasise that last word, softly raising your eyebrows as if doing that could give a hint of what was crossing your mind.

And honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was being clueless or just messing with you. Jake was a keen person, and both of you knew that.

‘’I told you, I am.’’

‘’Like… at everything?’’

‘’Wanna find out?’’

You suddenly felt breathless. Sharp gaze of his locked on your eyes. Was he messing around? Didn’t look like it as he left his comfy position of his chair to get closer to you. Still in your spot at his bed, you looked up to meet his gaze once again, but something was different. Jake’s eyes darkened a bit as he knelt in front of you.

‘’Jake…?’’ you softly called him, tilting your head.

‘’You know… I’m not just good with my brain, or hands. Let me show you, and I’m sure you won't ask again.’’

Like if you were under some kind of spell you nodded, gaining a smirk from him. His hands flew quickly at your waistband, asking without a word with your permission. You gave it to him, and soon found himself unbuttoning your pants and sliding them through your legs, leaving them forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Jake took you by your thighs and pulled them closer to him, blushing your cheeks hot red. He helped you spread your legs, both of your ankles pinned down the mattress. Your hands held your weight, expectant for his next move.

Jake’s lips pressed softly on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses before reaching your underwear. He repeated the same action on your left leg, his hands never leaving your things. Until now.

One of his fingers hooked the hem of your panties, slid it to the side, and took a look at your wet cunt. How embarrassing. You were wet just for a few kisses there and here. But in reality you knew that wetness came from before, while you daydream about his fingers minutes ago. Your chest felt heavy as you tried to control your breath, hands gripping slightly on his bed sheets. His free hand went directly to recollect some of your arousal and spread it on your folds, rubbing slowly your clit.

You held back a moan, biting your bottom lip. Jake led his coated fingers inside his mouth and hummed at your sweet taste.

‘’God, I bet it tastes better directly from your pussy.’’

Your legs felt like jelly at his words, and you found yourself throwing back your head as soon as his wet and warm tongue started to make wonders between your folds. He hummed, sending vibrations to your core that made you arch your back.

As you gripped tightly his bed sheets, Jake didn’t stop working on your wet core, rubbing with the tip of his tongue your clit, sending jolts through your whole body.

He was pretty good at it, switching between your swollen clit and your entrance, tempting to pull his tongue further. Your free hand grabbed his nape hair, his name leaving your lips as your eyes were shut. 

‘’Fuck, f–feels so good Jake.’’ You could almost feel his grin appearing on his lips. He knew right. ‘’Please don’t s–stop.’’

He didn’t tho.

Jake held you close, pinning one of your legs down for a better access, even if that meant your legs were wide open. But you couldn't care less. The feeling was worth it, almost intoxicating to the point you started to rub your core against his tongue. The moment Jake sucked you sensitive bundle, immediately tugged his hair, earring a groan from him.

Even if he was suffocating, both of his tongue and nose-tip rubbing your clit, he couldn’t stop. Your squirming body, broken moans falling from your lips kept him going, digging his nails into your flesh. 

‘’I’m so close, s–so close…!’’

‘’Cum in my mouth, pretty. Go on, let it go.’’

Took you a few licks to come on his mouth, tensing all your body as he kept doing his work, helping you to reach your highest point though your orgasm. Maybe you pulled his hair a bit harsh but, in fact, he liked it. 

Your tired body lies on his bed, legs still shaking and you breach unable to catch. You felt his hands caressing your thighs, his cheek leaning onto your inner thigh.

‘’Are you okay…?’’

‘’Jesus… It was amazing.’’

You heard Jake chuckled.

‘’Take a moment to rest and then I want you to open your mouth for me. ‘Gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours.’’

[depravitycentral]

This is a continuation of my last post, where anon asked about whether Kikyo and Silva would ever share a darling

Tw: kidnapping, dehumanization, pet-play ish, Kikyo is freaky, objectification, their marriage is as strange as the family they've raised, weird jealousy dynamics, weird sexual competing (?), Milluki is a creep

I think Silva and Kikyo could potentially keep a darling together, but the relationship is - odd, to say the least. Silva is significantly more emotionally attached than his wife - he's the one to even bring up the idea, actually, because his marriage to Kikyo has always been about convenience and offspring. And so, when he happens to run into you while he's out on a mission and you catch his eye for whatever reason, it's not exactly hard to bring you back to the mountain, dressing you up in pretty, expensive clothing and luxury lingerie sets underneath.

And frankly, Kikyo is not pleased - she's not exactly in love with Silva either, but she feels that her place as his wife is threatened by your presence, that her position within the Zoldyck family is hanging on by a string because Silva is obviously more charmed and affectionate with you than he is with her. At first she hates you – she’s doing everything in her power to drive you out, to make your life enough of a living hell that you’ll beg Silva to let you leave. (Or perhaps you’ll fall victim to the multitudes of ways she attempts to end your life.)

But though Silva doesn’t like upsetting Kikyo, his feelings for you – romantic, a foreign concept – are strong enough that he’s putting his foot down and stopping Kikyo from doing anything too terribly reckless. He’s always able to tell when she’s poisoned your food, or when she’s rubbed poison ivy all over your nice dresses so that you’ll become swollen and inflamed and hopefully he’ll toss you to the side because he’s disgusted by your appearance. Her attempts don’t work, and if anything it only draws your relationship with Silva closer – because suddenly he’s got you on his lap, your face pressed against his chest while you both ignore the very, very insistent bulge pressing against your crotch, his voice as soft as he can get it while he tells you that Kikyo will not hurt you, I won’t allow it.

And as time passes and he stays true to this promise, Kikyo finds herself slowly giving up. You really aren’t going, huh? He seems to really like you for some unknown reason, and so she instead turns her attention to making sure that even if her status as Silva’s wife is threatened, her status as the mother of the Zoldyck children stays in-tact.

And frankly, once she makes this shift, things change – because Silva spends a majority of his time with you, there’s no insinuations or attempts at stealing Kikyo’s motherly role. You’ve literally never even met most of the kids except for a few brief words over silent, uncomfortable family dinners, and Kikyo is smug about this. At least in this way she’s better than you – she’s a good mother, and you’re what? A good hole for her husband to settle into at night?

It makes her scoff.

Until one day, she notices that you are, begrudgingly, a bit attractive.

Not the beauty Silva seems to believe you are, but there’s something about you that she can’t deny is charming, even if she wants to. And so, as time passes, she slowly warms up to you; except, Kikyo’s version of ‘warming up’ – developing romantic feelings, yet again foreign to her – is transitioning from belittling and yelling at you out of anger to belittling and yelling at you because she wants your attention. She’s clingy, especially since Silva hogs so much of your time, and she relies on criticizing you and ‘reteaching’ you basic manners, skills, even how to dress as she sees fit. Her obsession manifests in making you unwavering obey her every command, the power making her feel giddy and oddly aroused.

And really, that’s a facet of your life as their shared darling that can’t be ignored – while some of the affection and attention you get is as innocent as it can be, given their profession and the fact that you were kidnapped, most of the touches and words and looks you get are anything but. And from both of them, too – each is equally guilty of constantly sexualizing you.

Silva is more traditional in his approach – he requests your presence most nights, staying in his own private chambers with the wooden doors locked tightly, the massive bed with its eerie blue lighting and satin sheets all bunched up and stained with his cum and your slick because he just can’t keep his hands off of you. He’s got you dressed up in nice clothing – revleaing dresses and garter belts hiding just above high slits in the fabric, the sight making him lick his lips and actually want you in a sexual manner, something he’s not used to experiencing. Every moment you spend with him involves his hand on your body somehow, whether it be steady and firm at your hip to remind you of his presence, or pressed against your stomach as he holds you in his lap, his cock stuffed as deep inside as possible while you cockwarm him, your sweet voice filling his ears as he commands you to speak to me, about whatever you like. Just don’t stop talking.

It's strange and it’ll make you think he only wants you as a glorified sex doll, but then he’ll do something small and unexpected that’s almost sweet, that almost seems like a genuine attempt to make you happy – a copy of your favorite book, or a beautiful necklace, or even an offer to spoil you with a private, intimate vacation to a destination of your choice. It’s strange, and while the lingerie sets are not ideal to wear around the mansion (particularly when Milluki is home – the staring is not subtle), Silva is tolerable. At least he normally preps you well before he fucks you.

Kikyo, on the other hand, expresses her attraction to you with much, much more humiliating methods. She’s naturally a bit sadistic, and while she isn’t actively trying to make you uncomfortable, she isn’t afraid to act on some of her more outlandish kinks. In contrast to Silva’s lingerie sets, you’ll be given pretty collars and ball gags and plugs to wear, all in varying shades of purple. (She favors purple because it’s both the family color and her favorite color, making her feel slightly better about her infatuation with you. Plus, she can’t deny how good you look in the eggplant, stain set she got you a few weeks ago, with a crotchless panty and material so thin stretched over your breasts that your nipple is fully visible.

She’ll treat you like a glorified dog at times, physically forcing your head between her legs and telling you to be good, make me feel good, or forcing you to your knees while she steps onto your thighs, a smile curling at her lips when you squirm in discomfort below her. Her overt sexual favors with you are less obvious than Silva’s, but there’s something about her’s that makes you feel weak and horrible and pathetic. And yet, similar to her husband, every once in a blue moon Kikyo is actually nice to you – after you’ve made her come a few times with your mouth, fingers and the toy she’d forced you to use (first in yourself, then in her – without washing it, a concept that’d made her blush heavily under her bandages), she’s breathlessly telling you how good you did, her nails digging into your skin a bit as she clutches onto you, her post-orgasmic high leaving her brain scrambled and praise for you slipping past her lips.

(One time she even tells you that she loves you – she hadn’t spoken to you for a few days afterwards, diligently avoiding you, though you were sure you caught her peeking into Silva’s room one of those night’s her lips parted, cheeks blushed so strongly pink that it extended down to her neck, a hand slipped up her skirt and visibly moving under the fabric. He hadn’t noticed, of course, because he was too busy bouncing you on his cock, eyes too busy staring as your ass jiggled and smacked against his navel as he fucked you in reverse cowgirl, but swear on your life that as soon as you made eye contact with Kikyo through the gap in the doorway, she made this high, whining noise and her knees buckled.

She’d come, from watching her husband fuck you.)

The situation is messy, quite honestly, but with time you’ll settle into it – you don’t have much of a choice, after all, and your presence fills a need that neither of them have been able to find in each other. And isn’t it just so nice to be loved by two people so thoroughly?

Even if you feel like a glorified pet more often than not?

[cherryredstars]

could you write something for simon with an asexual partner please :)

luv ya have a nice day<3

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Asexual!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Indirect Mentions of Simon's SA

A/N: I hope your day is amazing, lovely anon! Haven't written for Si in AGES!

Unedited

It's a whole conversation. You have to really take time to sit him down and talk about it and what it means/how it will play a part in the relationship. The discussion is like two hours long. He truly just doesn't understand. Not in a 'wtf are you on, humans are made to want to have sex' way, but in a 'I'm literally an old man and I've been too busy trying to not die in foreign territories' way. (Let's be real, this man does not know any LGBTQ identities besides gay and lesbian and has no idea the f slur refers to anything other than a smoke).

He honestly thought you were telling him you were 'a sexual' when you said it to him. He just blinked at you slowly in confusion because he had genuinely no idea if this was your way of demanding sexual intimacy or like some weird foreplay. Like are you demanding him to treat you like an animal in heat or is this some weird test? And his way of asking for clarification?: "...like Johnny?" (A man who has no-filtered talked about wanting to pound into the first person he got his hands on at the nearby bar over lunch at your dining table).

Please be patient as you're explaining it to him, I beg you. He's repeatedly asking the same questions over and over again and repeating everything you say back because he's actually trying to understand and he doesn't want to mess anything up. Every other sentence he's nodding his head slowly and then just going, "so...basically-?" insert thing you just said but reworded. Please just explain it to him like he's a five year old, he really does feel like one right now.

Totally respects your choice and feelings around sex. He doesn't really go jumping for joy or is in the constant need for a release with everything he experienced in the past, so sex isn't a deal breaker for him in a relationship. You want zero sex because you just don't feel the need for it or simply don't like it? That's a-okay with him, he wasn't having sex before he met you and he doesn't see a reason why that needs to change now that you're together. You're okay with having sex but only under certain conditions and with a few boundaries in place? Can you wait just a moment while he goes to get something to write it all down on so he can make sure he doesn't accidentally overlook something in the future? You wouldn't mind him adding a few boundaries too, right? He doesn't object to anything you say, just asks for clarification from time to time and writes down notes on the side.

He's your number one defender when friends or family or nosy strangers ask about the intimacy aspects of your relationship. Shuts them up real fast when they start to show a hint of judgement towards the choices the two of you made or tries to insinuate you're 'depriving him' of something. Gives them the nastiest glare and bluntly asks them why they care so much about people's sex lives or asks them really uncomfortable questions about their sex life with a straight face until they awkwardly excuse themselves.

This man just loves you for you and reminds you everyday that you're his luvie and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[stinkysam]

Buggy the Clown - Furnace.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “Buggy and a male devil fruit user? The reader are a fire devil fruit and can manipulate fire without it hurting them. Buggy could find pretty cool and flashy. The fire power also causes the reader to have a really warm body temperature…” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

It was a cold winter night in the middle of the sea, rain pouring heavily on the deck. You were in your hammock, snoring peacefully.

You didn't mind the weather in the slightest. Your devil fruit gave you a high body temperature, so much the air around you was hot, almost like standing next to a chimney.

Shaking and shivering, your crewmates are arguing about who will sleep in the hammock next to yours, to enjoy your powers for the night.

Then, the door gets kicked open by none other than your captain.

“What's going on here ?!” He loudly yells and you wake up, jumping on your feet, wobbling a bit.

“We're just- [Name] is really warm, captain.” One says.

“And ?” His right foot is tapping the floor, hands on his hips.

“And we're cold…”

“So you want to use him, mh ? Did you ask him ?” He says, squinting his eyes. You raised an eyebrow at his words, why did he care so much suddenly ?

“N- no…”

“You should be ashamed of yourselves !” He pointed at them, and they looked down in embarrassment. “[Name], with me, now !” He ordered and you quickly walked to him. “He'll sleep with me tonight, that'll teach you all.” He said, leaving the room with you as your crewmates sadly climbed in their hammocks.

You walked in silence to his bedroom, unable to contain your smile while Buggy's face still looked severe.

“You can drop the act now, we're alone.”

“What ? I have no idea what you're talking about.” He says, looking at you, pouting as if to look like he was thinking of what you could be insinuating.

“It's okay, captain, I get it, you're cold and I'm warm.”

“What !?” He says, looking insulted. “I just acted like a good captain ! I heard ruckus in the room and saw you being bothered by them. If anything, I saved you ! You should be thankful.”

“I was asleep.”

He found nothing to reply to that, grumbling instead and then you noticed him trying to contain his shivering. He side eyed you, wondering if he had done the right thing but as you wrapped your arm around him, any regrets evaporated. Nevermind, he was right to steal you from his minions.

You quickly reached his room and jumped on his bed.

“Ahh !” You sighed, his king-size bed was much more comfortable and spacious than the hammocks. Buggy snorted, climbing next to you and throwing the covers above you two.

He turned the lights off and you laid down, waiting for him to lay next to you. But instead, nothing came.

It was one thing to plan this and steal you away for your warmth, but it was another thing to get physically close to you for it. Luckily for him, the lack of light hid his blushing.

“What are you waiting for ?” You ask, staring at his silhouette before pulling him closer, making him gasp.

Cheek against cheek, you held him against you, closing your eyes before you felt him shift, pulling away from you before coming closer again, his head resting on your chest.

It was warm. It felt nice.

He could hear your heartbeat. It felt weird. But… comforting. Like hearing a lullaby.

Buggy closed his eyes, arms wrapping around you to keep you there, slowly getting more comfortable as one of your hands rubbed his back, soothingly.

He was no longer shivering, instead falling into a deep sleep, snoring louder than you.

Maybe he should do this more often.

[lorynna]

i would consider myself a radical feminist also and i agree with the vast majority of your views. honestly i am just curious why you think aromantic/asexual people don't exist or shouldn't be labeled. i don't mean this as hate i'm honestly curious to know if it is part of most radical feminist views

if you can accept someone who is lesbian, and knows for themselves that they aren't at all attracted to men, why would you not accept someone who realizes both that they aren't attracted to men and they aren't attracted to women? (obviously very different identities and experiences i'm just wondering why some people can be trusted to know who they're not attracted to and others can't)

Hello anon, thank you for asking so kindly.

I am going to try and explain what my personal opinion on the topic is, as well as I can, and please keep in mind that I don't speak for the radical feminist community but just for my own views.

First of all, the definitions I have read of both terms (aromantic and asexual) so far aren't really specific, differ from each other at times and leave open room for interpretation. The gendies meanwhile continue to preach "everything means something different to each person" and "it is a broad spectrum" just like they do with gender, which according to them is so complicated and unfathomable that you have to ask each person identifying with it seperately, to know what their gender means to them.

The first thing that comes up when I google the definition of both terms displayed below (just as an example of what I mean):

Like, what do "sexual feelings" all include and to which extent does "little romantic attraction" go?

I do think that people who fit the mainstream criterias for being asexual or aromantic exist, I am not trying to say that it is naturally impossible to experience no sexual or aromantic attraction to anyone. I do think it is really really rare for this to authentically occur though, and that a lot of people identifying with these labels have experienced some kind of trauma or are doing it because it has become a trend.

The thing I most dislike about these labels are not only their inconsistency in definitions but also how much they are starting to get pushed online = trend. In my personal experience I have seen not only online but also offline how younger kids and teens start to pick up on these labels without knowing what they truly mean, because they are "cool" and just like gender it is starting to become a similar trend. Seeing who publicly identifies as those labels, it is again mostly the demographic of teenagers who are going puberty and the several different, crucial developmental phases that come with that.

Since you are asking if this is a common radfem belief, I cannot say. There surely is a variety of opinions, however I have seen some good takes from which I remember being said that a person doesn't need the label of "asexuality" or "aromanticism" as an excuse to not participate in dating culture or to not engage in sexual relations. It should just be common sense to not ask strangers about their dating lives and not ask "why" if they say they are not dating or having sex as if it was something unusual.

Also answering to your last question of "why I don't trust those people to know who they are attracted or not attracted to" is not what I am trying to do insinuate by questioning/criticizing the labels they use to describe said attraction. It is not about me trying to say "I don't believe you, you are lying" it is "why do you need those labels". I just don't think it adds anything valuable to society and it's getting more mainstream each day. Now even with teenagers using those labels when they haven't had the time to figure out themselves as a person yet. It just looses its meaning.

I've seen women going through long periods without having partners (radfems participating in male seperatism for example) being asked "oh, so you're asexual, right?" or "oh, so you're unable to form a romantic connection?" because people start assuming, forgetting that there are so so many reasons why people might not have partners or might not want to.

Again, people who truly are not experiencing any sexual desire or romantic desire are really rare but through so many people mindlessly adopting the label it looses it's meaning because it gets more broad in definition and everyone continues to define it for themselves. "Yeah, I am asexual but sometimes I have sex. Like once a month but that's barely enough so I must be asexual." Like... you might just have a low libido and that's totally okay! Why do you feel the need to label yourself as asexual? Is it easier because of your partner's expectations, maybe? Is a simple no not enough for them?

"I'm 15 and I haven't had a crush on anyone so far. I actually think boys/girls are ew and I can't imagine kissing anyone, like ew saliva. Also the girls/boys in my class are so annoying!!" And no, I've heard statements like this several times before. I mean, give yourself some time you're only 15.

Why do we always have to slap a label on top of everything and why can't we just go through life saying "yeah at the moment I really don't feel like having a partner, I don't want to date or have sex. Maybe that will change someday, maybe not and either way it's okay, I'm open for change. " but we have to say "oh yes, I'm an asexual aromantic without doubt and that won't change, that's my identity" and then when that changes we get an identity crisis realising that oh, maybe that wasn't me? Who am I now?

It all boils down to me not being able to take those labels seriously anymore, which is why I reacted so sarcastically in the post you're probably referring to, where I talked sarcastically about those terms.

"labels are different for anyone"

like no.. to define means to limit, to define means to exclude people who don't meet those criterias and that's okay, that's what makes labels and words meaningful = contributing to a conversation of mutual understanding instead of having to first discuss what each person means by using one and the same word.

Like I can't go outside in a clothing store saying "oh I want a red dress" and when she shows me a red dress I then say "oh that's not red for me, that's yellow by my own definition." How do you expect everyone to effectively communicate by leaving the option open for everyone to seperately define one single term??

But as we know, the gendies aren't fans of definitions.