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#we do knot always love you
kaicko · 4 months
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Happy Anniversary to the couple ever!!!!!!!! 🎉💖❄️🐰🕶️🐍🐒
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thisisatesttai · 4 months
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IchiRuki is not "delusional," and saying that it is means you have no media literacy
IHs seem to think that all it takes to interpret Ichigo, Rukia, and Orihime's feelings is to read the epilogue. To a literary critic, that is absurd. Characters explain how they feel over and over again across a piece of media. An ending may give us context that alters the earlier scenes, but this is always in very specific ways. With Bleach, nothing about the epilogue indicates that Ichigo and Rukia are not supposed to be read as at least potentially romantic.
For posterity's sake, I should point out that I've only seen the first few arcs of the anime, so most of what I say below is based on the manga. That said, the anime is part of the story as much as the manga is, so just because something happened in the manga and not the anime, or vice versa, doesn't make it "truer" to the text, just true to different texts.
Let's start with the fact that the story repeatedly suggests that Ichigo and Rukia have a romantic vibe to them. The rumors at school make this explicit, but just from the setup of two classmates who clearly have a secret that are constantly sneaking off, especially when you add in that they go home together and sleep in the same room. I know a lot of people want IchiRuki to be the Platonic Boy/Girl Friends (TM) but honey, they just ain't them. You're thinking of Naruto and Sakura. Claims that they have a sibling vibe are utterly baseless, especially in Bleach, where sibling relationships are a very explicit theme. Not every non-romantic couple that's nominally the same age (don't get me started on the "she's 150" arguments; go prosecute ACTUAL 150-year-olds dating 15-year-olds and leave me alone) is automatically a sibling vibe. The most I could say is that they do bicker a lot, but we all know that's just as comparable to a married couple. Saying Rukia is a mentor to Ichigo admittedly has a little more basis, especially when Bleach doesn't have a designated mentor figure. I still think Rukia's role in teaching Ichigo about the Soul Society is more of a guide archetype, though; think less Genkai, more Botan.
But setting aside the setup, the Soul Society Arc, or Rescue Rukia arc, is loaded with romantic themes and imagery. Don't get me wrong; nothing says that Kubo couldn't have introduced these as a fake-out to the audience, with the intention of subverting their expectations. I don't personally think there's anything that really suggests that, at least not so far as the romantic reading of the Soul Society arc itself being entirely off-base. The whole arc kicks off because Rukia is asked by Orihime and her friends if she "like-likes" Ichigo. She says she only likes him as a friend, but all of the narrative cues suggest that she's being dishonest, from the narration to the fact that she was so bothered by the question that she chooses now to go to the Soul Society and face her punishment. The suggestion at this point seems to be that Rukia having any type of affection for Ichigo, be it friendship or romantic, is inappropriate or even impossible for a shinigami. Ichigo's feelings are treated similarly, as he never gives a straight answer when he's asked why he wants to save Rukia, but several characters suggest that it's because he's in love with her. This doesn't mean he is, but the narrative does not deny that that is a possible reasoning. We're not even really told what his answer is; the scene where he thinks, "That's why I fought so hard to save you" seems to be suggesting that he wanted her to be able to decide whether she would live in the World of the Living or the Soul Society -- or else it's saying he didn't want the last time he saw her to be her telling him she would never forgive him, or it's saying that he wanted to see her smile again. Like I said, we're not given an explicit answer to this question.
The rest of the manga is basically about Ichigo adjusting to life without Rukia. I think it's fair to say that even if you read Soul Society romantically, from the Arrancar Invasion Arc on, Rukia is no longer written as Ichigo's love interest. This doesn't invalidate anything suggested in the previous arcs, though. If anything, I would argue that Ichigo's feelings become pretty explicit by the time we get to Hueco Mundo. The dramatic reveal of Rukia coming to visit, and the fact that she's the only person capable of breaking him out of his funk, both have a romantic reading to them. When the team arrives in Hueco Mundo, Ichigo is shown to be overly concerned with Rukia's safety, explicitly singling her out aside from Renji, Uryu, and Chad. (I guess that could just be misogyny, though.) Even Ichigo's obsession with getting a rematch with Grimmjow could be traced to him nearly one-shotting Rukia during their fight in Karakura. I'm not saying any of these are exclusive interpretations, just showing how it's regularly reinforced that Ichigo feels differently about Rukia than any of his other companions, even to the point of letting it cloud his judgment.
I don't think I need to say anything about Ichigo and Rukia's goodbye before the timeskip. The way the scene is drawn, and written, and framed by the narrative, is very reminiscent of romance scenes, to the point that if it was meant to be read as exclusively platonic, it comes off as a very bad satire. And jumping to the anime real quick, I know episode 342 is anime-only, but by no means do I think that invalidates everything it says about Ichigo and Rukia's feelings for each other. That episode oozes with ship-bait, to the point of turning the subtext of their relationship into text. And if you think this is something that the anime studio injected into the narrative -- well, first of all, then we'd also have to parse out everything that the Shonen Jump editors injected into the manga -- but Kubo himself has said that he thought the episode was a welcome addition. So, if your'e someone who thinks the author's vision is the final say on the manga, there you have it; Kubo basically canonized ep. 342.
With all that in mind, I think that, at the very least, Bleach's narrative suggests that Ichigo and Rukia are coulda-beens. Maybe Ichigo was more invested than Rukia was, maybe Rukia deemed it inappropriate due to them being from different worlds, but in the language of manga and storytelling in general, the idea that they might have feelings for each other isn't some fan's "delusion"; it is actually part of the text. Whether or not they actually felt something for each other is for them and them alone to know, but the story tells us that these are two people who met, came to care very deeply for each other, and then drifted apart without ever taking the plunge.
The question that this leaves us with is, where does that leave Orihime?
If there's one character whose feelings are never up for debate, it's Orihime. We know from practically her first scene that she has a crush on Ichigo. Now, at first that's never taken seriously. It's mostly just a setup for the running gag of her bonkers imagination. Over time, though, we get a little bit more insight into Orihime's feelings, and she starts to get taken more seriously as a character. There's a version of Bleach where, as Orihime steps up to be by Ichigo's side in the latter arcs, he moves on from his feelings for Rukia and the two develop as a couple. If that were the case, even if IchiHime doesn't appeal to me, personally, I would still accept it. It would actually be a refreshingly mature take on teenage romance. Unfortunately, that version is not in the text.
For that reading of Bleach to work, we would need to see their love for each other build to a place where both characters bring out the best in each other, at least comparably to Ichigo and Rukia. Unfortunately, Ichigo and Orihime don't seem to bring out the best in each other. Ichigo brings out all of Orihime's insecurities. During the lead-up to the Arrancar arc, Orihime starts to compare herself to Rukia. (There's literally a panel sequence that says, without a single word "find you someone who looks at you the way Ichigo looks at Rukia", to anyone who's still unconvinced that there's a romantic reading to those two.) And as the entirety of the Hueco Mundo hammers home, Orihime is personally ill-equipped to be Rukia. Both Rangiku and Rukia herself have speeches where they tell Orihime that she needs to stop trying to live up to what she thinks Ichigo wants and just be herself, but she sticks to the mantra that she wants to "fight by Ichigo's side" -- you know, like Rukia does. Urahara even tells her outright that she needs to stop trying to put herself on the battlefield. It's not particularly nice of him to squash her dreams like that, but it's not as though she doesn't get an out; Hachi is already there, trying to teach Orihime to be a healer, something she has a natural talent for.
Instead of reframing her wishes with the advice of her friends, Orihime makes the worst decision of her life and goes to Hueco Mundo with Ulquiorra. Now, obviously this is coerced by the Espada and not her actual response to the situation, but that doesn't mean they're not framed as consequential to each other, narratively. Orihime is told she has a flaw that she needs to change, but before she's able to do so, she must go through hardships so she can let go of the façade that she's using to cover up her flaw. Well, she goes through hardships alright. She's imprisoned, assaulted, and threatened with death. Orihime is confronted both with her weaknesses, and with her strengths, as she is eventually able to appeal to Ulquiorra's humanity through her willingness to see the goodness in people, even those who are actively abusing her. You would think this would lead to a change in Orihime that goes back and answers the underlying question, but it doesn't. By the end of the manga, she is still fantasizing about being a Battle Couple alongside Ichigo, and she's still not good at it. I don't know how many times I've had to say this, but Orihime and Ichigo losing their fight to Yhwach is not a triumphant moment. The fact that it's the result of Orihime achieving her series-long dream is more of an indictment against their relationship than anything else I could say.
To adopt the narrative that Ichigo got over Rukia to be with Orihime, we would also need to see him come to appreciate Orihime in her own right, something that he is...hopelessly uninterested in. No, we can't just take for granted that he's a dopey shonen hero and "that's just his character"; if he's supposed to be . We also absolutely cannot take for granted that this happens offscreen; that can be a headcanon that you, as the audience, choose to adopt, but it's not suggested by anything other than the assumption that the ending is supposed to be, and can only be, saccharinely happy. There's nothing to suggest that Ichigo changes the way he thinks about Orihime in the text, and we only ever see him thinking about her is when reacting to her in scenes, and just generally not wanting her to die. The closest we get to him expressing a romantic interest in Orihime is the scene where he asks her to "wait for him" -- at Rukia's wedding, no less. I shouldn't have to spell out how having this happen on the very day, at the very moment, that Rukia is considered "off-limits" to conventional societal standards undercuts the idea that Ichigo is not taking Orihime as a consolation prize. Which, don't get me wrong, SUCKS. But it is implicit in the framing, and can't be ignored.
And that's without getting into Rukia's relationship with Renji. I think in this case, we can very obviously see that Kubo tried to write a romance between them, but he did so in such a half-assed way that I find it very hard to take seriously. Yes, Ichigo throwing Rukia to Renji is obviously meant to tell us that Renji is her love interest from that point in the story, but that doesn't mean it works. First of all, we can't pretend Renji wasn't awful to Rukia for a majority of the Soul Society arc. Sure, this is him pre-character development, but it's a huge leap to go from "I'm conflicted over whether I should tell off my boss for killing you" to a canon couple. But even with Renji beating up Rukia and telling her he wished she was dead, you can still get to the point where they repair their relationship -- it just takes a lot of work that Bleach simply doesn't do. We need more than Renji promising to turn things around, we need to see him do things that make up for that. To be fair, though, Kubo spends very little time showing us what they're like when one of them isn't on death row. At most, they seem to train together a lot. Like, you want platonic boy/girl besties? THESE are platonic boy/girl besties. Actually, they're the ones with the sibling dynamic, given that they literally grew up calling each other family.
So where does that leave us? Some people seem to assume that despite Kubo fumbling the ball, the canon couples were meant to be, and that they somehow found happiness despite all the evidence to the contrary. Again, you can hold that headcanon for yourself if it makes you happy. However, if we're going strictly based off the text, the answer seems to be that Bleach doesn't have a happy ending. The characters whose endings are not related to getting married off all end up doing the one thing they didn't want to do -- Chad ends up using his fists for personal gain as a boxer, Uryu ends up alone, etc. -- and the ones who DO get what they want are the ones whose dreams are framed as being misguided, in Orihime's case, or unearned, in Renji's case. I'm not saying you have to ship IchiRuki, of course. I can't tell you how to read the series. At the end of the day, Bleach is to you what it is to you. But saying that reading IchiRuki as romantic is "delusional" is more than just false, it diminishes media literacy for all of us.
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elyonholic · 10 months
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“Be still, my foolish heart. Don't ruin this on me.”
ICHIHIME WEEK, Day 02: We Do Knot Always Love You
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loriihpics · 10 months
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credits : @applehimedes via twitter
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shunuki · 10 months
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Let's have a little chat about this shall we.
Shot taken from the light novel "We do knot always love you".
Now just why would those two combine a wedding gift. Even though at this point Jushiro is gone, Shunsui still presents a combination gift.
Kind of a couple like thing to do.
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hootjiggle · 1 year
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Drew one of my favourite parts of WDKALY!!!
Rukia when Renji asks her to marry him
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Vs. Trying to tell Orihime that she's her best girl friend.
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Spoilers for bleach novel: We do Knot always love you
Okay so I’m reading We do Knot always love you, and oml it’s beautiful! You may not be a RenRuki shipper or dislike it to some extent, but the whole story proves how vital their relationship is to the restoration of the soul society. Then getting married (in Toshiro’s words) will represent hope of new beginnings during the time period where the soul society returned to normalities after Yhwach and such. After such a painful time for the 13 squads, after loosing so many people (Yamamoto, Unohana, ukitake ect), Renji and Rukia FINALLY becoming a couple and creating a form of peace in their marriage is greatly inspiring. I think the best thing about it was Byakuya’s inclusion. From the start he’s been a distant and disturbingly-bad brother, however now we see him in Rukia’s rose tinted glasses, except he’s actually what she’s always seen him to be now. Someone who cares. This maybe me reading between the lines but even though Byakuya was quite happy to pay for the wedding and such, he seems a bit disheartened by the thought of letting her go. I think it probably has something to do with their relationship finally being reformed and now they are getting distanced again, but also he wants to support the union, because he knows what it’s like to be in a position where the people who are supposed to care the most about his wedding day, don’t.
Again even if you hate RenRuki, if it hadn’t happened, the soul society would find themselves lacking the sense of hope for a brighter future. They deserve eachother and I have great hopes for Ichika! This whole story was adorable and the side stories were great too! The Byakuya and Rukia sibling relationship definitely made me the happiest and also the sketches that go along with the novel are adorable!!
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curlybraces15 · 8 months
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It seems that I have to come here to know about more Bleach novels I never heard about. So now I'm missing two more novels released before the "Can't fear your own world" series. I hope to find them at least in English since the second volume of CFYOW is impossible to find translated in my native language, because Bleach in my country has never had the same success as Naruto or One Piece so the publisher doesn't even know if/when they're going to print more copies. Sigh.
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jorvach · 2 years
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Finally got around to coloring this redraw of the ichihime sketch at the end of WDKALY, huzzah! Wasn’t sure whether to make Orihime’s dress blue or pink, but my decision was made for me because I couldn’t find a good blue pencil! :D
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lorisystem · 8 months
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The nicest person in the world is the lady who helped me tie my shoes at 5ish years old so i could go play during recess. (I elaborated in the tags but theyre fairly long,,) -???
#ive already told this story to some people but i love to tell it.#ok so when i was young i only wore velcro shoes bc i couldnt tie laces.#even now i havent learned the proper knot that literally everybody has learned. idk why i just cant commit it to memory but to be fair#i havent tried to learn it in years bc now i learned a different way to tie my shoes which takes longer so everybody is always like why do#you take so long tying your shoes.#but anyway this story is when i was around 5 maybe younger or maybe older but max 7 yrs old.#my mom only bought me velcro shoes since i couldnt learn how to tie my shoes normally and at some point trying to learn made me so#frustrated i just refused to try and cried etc.#so anyway in my old school there was this weird rule ive never seen anywhere else that we had to use other shoes in the class#i guess to avoid dirtying the floors or something.#and one time my mom bought me new shoes with laces and threw my old shoes probably thinking id have to learn it. i didnt lol.#so she tied my shoes in the morning and then i went to school changed shoes and like i had to like. put back my lace shoes on to go outside#for recess. now get that the teacher hated me. not sure why you would hate a child this age. but she was usually mean to me.#so when she saw this issue she was rlly annoyed and told me so and like the first few days she tied my shoes so i could go outside.#and idk after 2 or 3 times she got rlly tired of doing it and said i had to do it by myself. and she just like fucking left and went outside#leaving me alone on the staircase.#and now this building had a 2nd story which was like a house or flat where people lived. and they were totally unrelated to the school afaik#but the lady was always rlly nice. so she happened to be going down to go outside and about her day and she saw me crying by myself on the#staircase and said whats wrong and i told her i cant tie my shoes and she just helped me and consoled me and then i could go.#anyway she was an angel to me.#its hitting me now as i tell this that when i was a child many of the adults around me were really mean#so i really imprinted on nice adults like i thought they were really amazing and the best people ever.#anyway thank you for reading my story!!#lorisys
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cinnamon-coffees · 9 months
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“It’s literally impossible to be a woman.
You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow, we're always doing it wrong?
You have to be thin, but not too thin, and you can never say you wanna be thin. You have to say you wanna be healthy, but also, you have to BE THIN.
You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass.
You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean.
You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas.
You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time.
You have to be a career woman, but also, always be looking out for other people.
You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is INSANE, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining!
You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood, but ALWAYS STAND OUT and ALWAYS BE GRATEFUL. But never forget that the system is rigged, so find a way to acknowledge that but ALSO, always be grateful!
You have to never get old. Never be rude. Never show off. Never be selfish. Never fall down. Never fail. Never show fear. Never get OUT OF LINE. It's too hard! It's too contradictory, and nobody gives you a medal or says 'thank you!' And it turns out, in fact, that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also, everything is your fault.
I'm just so tired of watching myself, and every single other woman tie herself into knots, so that people will like us.
And if all of that, is also true for a doll just representing a woman, then I don't even know." -Gloria the barbie movie
this is it. this is exactly it oh my god.
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gojorgeous · 3 months
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“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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toruslvt · 2 months
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  TO THE HILT
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⋆ wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette + fem!reader.
 ⋆ mdni. knotting for the first time, breeding kinda, creampies, lots of pet names n praising like baby, sweetheart, darling, good girl, my love, wife ( zhongli,,, we all act surprised ), pussy drunk neuvi. no proofread ;(
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WRIOTHESLEY
the first time Wriothesley knots you it almost happens like an accident, the duke, —too lost in the warm and tight clutch of your pussy around his cock, continuously smacks his hips against yours, the sound, filthy and wet resonates through the walls as his balls slam on your ass; that, or at least you think it’s his balls until they start to push in, a tiny bit with each thrust into your cunt.
“W-wrio?!” you gasp, genuinely terrified and quickly raising on your elbows to watch the engorged base of his cock, red and swollen, pulsing in need to release.
“t’s alright, baby, I got you, relax” he huffs back, sweat trickling down his forehead and sticking the dark locks of hair against his skin, “is just my knot..., you’ll take it, yeah? it’ll feel so good, I promise”
“I-i don’t think it’ll fit...” you squeal, thighs spread wide and hooked from under by your boyfriend’s strong muscular arms, spreading you wider for his hips to comfortably slot between yours for what was about to come.
“yes it will, sweetheart” it’s almost imperceptive the tiny hiss Wriothesley let’s out at your words, cock throbbing inside your dripping walls, continuously spurting precum that messily connects your bodies, “trust me, alright? i’ll take care of you” he grunts, eyes about to roll back from the sheer self control he puts on himself as not to fill your tight hole with his knot at once.
steadily he begins to push it into you, a thumb finding your clit and rubbing in right circles, helping you ignore the continuous stretch “fuck!, your body is so responsive” Wriothesley groans, eyes drifting between your pleasure contorted face and the way your cute pussy struggled to take him whole, fluttering wildly and gushing slick.
like a tidal wave, your orgasm takes you over hard, eyes crossing and back arching the second a soft 'pop' was heard and Wriothesley’s knot was fully wrapped by your quivering walks.
“good girl” he rasps, raising your thigh to push just a tiny bit deeper, enough for the air inside your lungs to get knocked out and Wriothesley’s cum to coat your insides, “told ya it’ll feel good” it comes as a whisper against your neck, followed by the warm and wet feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue under your ear, “i’ll knot you every time we fuck” he promises, “until you get used to it”
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ZHONGLI
at least with a warning beforehand, you knew what to expect as soon as Zhongli was balls deep into your cunt.
“breathe, my love” he keeps you grounded, a hand on your mound, gently and kindly rubbing your clit until you’re impossibly wet and slick to ease the pain of his knot, another in your nipples, pinching and tugging for your moans to turn into high pitched whines.
“you’re doing so well, my beautiful wife” Zhongli murmurs low, almost an exhalation as his hips start to pick up his pace again, gently pushing the engorged base of his cock inside your pussy, covering your whimpers with his fleeting kisses.
“that’s it, i’m almost done” always so reassuringly, even though you can barely stutter out his name through the pleasure daze, it’s surprising how much control Zhongli has on his own emotions, maintaining that calm facade although his brow often twitches and cock throbs between your folds.
“Zhongli...” you manage to croak, throat hoarse from the intense screams and moans of his name slipping past your lips.
“yes, I’m here” he breathes, leaning down to brush his lips across your jaw, yet his hands continue their assault on your sensitive spots, one extra rough tug on your nipple and his knot is tightly snuggled inside of you, “there we go... so good, my love”
“can you feel me inside your pretty pussy? i’m so deep, my love, I need to fill you fully as you cum on my cock, can you do that for me?” Zhongli whispers, so tenderly and a whole lot opposite to his lewd words.
and you really don’t need much to cream around his cock, a few humps into your sensitive and overly stretched pussy and you’re screaming his name, body convulsing and milking him for every drop of cum directly into your womb.
“my gorgeous wife, you did an amazing job” Zhongli murmurs between ragged gasps, a low hum of satisfaction brewing from the depths of his throat as he finally stops coming inside of you.
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NEUVILLETTE
something you expected was for Neuvillette to be eager to please, what you did not expect, was for the man to completely and utterly lose his mind as soon as his name came out of your lips like a prayer.
you feel exposed, slightly embarrassed by how tightly Neuvillette keeps his grip on your waist, maintaining your arms steady on both your sides as he plunged into you from below, the bed slightly creaking under the shared weight and inhumane movement.
“my love, my beloved” he murmurs, lost in the sensation of your tight pussy clenching around his cock, keeping him flush inside your walls like he kept you against his sweaty chest, “you feel divine” Neuvillette moans, eyes closed and diving into the sensation, he always got this way, lost in pleasure, drunk in love with you and the squeeze of your cunt.
“i need to be fully inside of you” it comes like a breathless whisper, almost a beg, “will you allow me?” he swallows, “to claim you inside and out?”
you can only nod, way too quickly and barely register the meaning behind those words, but Neuvillette’s eagerness picks up, loudly smacking his hips against your own, the sound muffling your own screams and his grunts.
his tongue comes in contact with your nape, licking a fat strip across the skin of your shoulder and softly nibbling on it, slightly turning you around so you’re now laying on your side with a thigh spread and above his own.
“Neuvi... please” you cry out, nails digging into your palms in frustration, but the beautiful sound of his name coming so desperately from your lips is enough for the man to allow you to move, freeing your hands and instead, coming to hold your hips, rocking you back and forth against his cock and knot that slowly sinks inside of you.
“hold onto me” he rasps and you try, sobbing onto the pillow as your hands reach back, fingers wrapping tightly around Neuvillette’s wrists in an attempt to ground yourself.
ever since the first time you had sex with your lover, you were aware of his dragon anatomy, and how desperately his instincts kicked every single time he was balls deep in your dripping cunt, so at least, the surprise wasn’t that big as your breath hitched and hole fluttered impossibly fast, attempting to swallow his knot.
it seems like all coherent thought leaves Neuvillette as well, since his continuous mumbling of praises turned into groans and moans as his cock coated your insides with thick cum, messily, — much against his usual composed self, humping your pussy, attempting to keep you stuffed and satiated as the last tremors of your orgasm subsided.
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mommypieck · 5 months
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⌗︙・happy birthday, gojo ⸜⸜・
"what do we have here?" he chuckles, his eyes piercing into your body. you're sitting on the floor in front of the door in cute white panties and your boobs are covered by a tiny ribbon that matches the one in your hair.
"happy birthday." you say shily, getting up to hug him. satoru lifts you up before kissing you softly. your legs are wrapped around his waist tightly even though you know he would never let you go. his eyes are back on the ribbon on your chest.
"it barely covers your nipples, baby." he says, making your cheeks turn red. the ribbon isn't hiding anything but you thought it was cute.
"you don't like it?" you ask and gojo's eyes turn red.
"of course i like it. i love it baby." he starts walking with you to your room where he throws you on the bed. gojo crawls on top of you, untying the ribbon to look at your boobs. he latches his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking while he teases the other one with his finger. you're confused, he ruined your whole plans, you were supposed to be the one pleasuring him.
"satoru, can i suck you off?" you ask him mid moans, but he just shakes his head. his mouth moves lower to the elastic of your panties. his tongue licks you over your underwear, knowing exactly where your clit is.
"satoruuuu..." you whine. you want him to feel good too.
"let me take care of you."
he pulls your panties down your legs, leaving you bare in front of him. he dives right in between your legs. you're already soaked, he always gets surprised how fast that little pussy gets wet. he eats you out slowly, taking him time with tasting you and maybe even teasing you.
"you're so good." you praise him and he giggles right in between your legs. he loves how innocent you are, of course he would be good at this.
"i need you inside." you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair to push him deeper. he laughs.
"but baby, you're pressing my face in between your legs while you beg for me to fuck you. you have to pick one." your cheeks go dark red again. but it's true, you want him to do both of those things at the same time. he smacks his lips, finally leaving the place in between your thighs. gojo pushes his pants down, revealing his already leaky hard on. precum is dripping down his length and he takes it in his hand, stroking to massage it into his shaft.
"are you ready?" he asks, pressing his tip to your opening. you nod your head frantically, whining when he rubs it up and down your pussy. with one quick thrust, he shelters himself inside of your pussy. he doesn't give you time to get used to his length and starts thrusting in. you took him multiple times and you love the sting. he's so much bigger than you, yet you take him so perfectly.
"harder." you moan, your body moving up and down under him on the bed. you're like a rag doll in his arms and he gets to do anything he wants with you. gojo gives it to you harder, making you scream. he savours every thrust of his hips, knowing you're close and he's close too. your pussy tightens on his cock. you'd never tell him you're close but he senses it.
"are you close, my love?" he asks, his finger coming to rub at your clit. you squeak, the stimulation too good for you. you nod your head at him, mouth opening to tell him but before you can speak, the knot inside of you bursts. you cum with a loud moan, your pussy squirting on his shaft. the grip your pussy has on him is too much for satoru and he cums inside of you. you can feel every spurt of his cum painting your walls.
he gently pulls out of you, making you whine in the loss of fullness.
"happy birthday." you giggle which makes him laugh too.
"thank you, baby. it was the best birthday present."
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  
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pasukiyo · 6 months
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mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader word count; 2,417 warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3 summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.
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 “Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”
 Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face. 
 “Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk. 
 “Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”
 She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.
 “New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”
 She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste. 
 Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight. 
 “What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”
 Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”
 She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”
 She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”
 The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”
 Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”
 Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”
 For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop. 
 “Mike…”
 “What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below. 
 “Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”
 His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin. 
 “I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her. 
 “Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”
 His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk. 
 Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees. 
 “You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear. 
 “Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste. 
 Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat. 
 “So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”
 With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone. 
 “Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier. 
 Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.
 “Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more. 
 Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit. 
 “Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now. 
 A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her. 
 She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste. 
 “Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”
 Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next. 
 His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much. 
 Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether. 
 With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste. 
 He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand. 
 Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again. 
 Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”
 She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”
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a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too
TAGLIST !!
@bxbyyyjocelyn
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