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stromblessed · 6 months

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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

#blue eye samurai #mizu #akemi #kinuyo #bes #women are birds okay they are BIRDS #the let me die line is so SCARY AND SAD like a part of Mizu wants death but she cant? she doesnt know how?? excuse you show???#when all these other delicate birds are dying all around her #akemis character gets more and more gutwrenching upon subsequent rewatches because whenever she says her life is in danger #NO ONE BELIEVES HER - certainly not other women #because shes rich and pampered and that means shes safe and is worrying about nothing right? right?????#and it turns out that all of akemis instincts were right and she was in danger the ENTIRE TIME #also I need to make a post just for kinuyo because I am sad

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no-one-hears-me · 10 months

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good run this morning btw

#it was short bc I had to go somewhere. had to get home and shower so I had to be quick #but it was faster than expected bc I was running at a faster pace than planned #but it felt fine I wasn't getting tired #my hair did fall out tho. got a little extra distance running back to get my hairtie off the road #that happened to me like two weeks ago but I wasn't using a good hairtie and I knew that #idk why it fell out today but it makes me nervous #always gotta check to seey hair is still done #I do a french braid for running btw. if anyone has ever sat around wondering what tumblr runner does #Sera

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inkskinned · 1 year

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"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!

#this got away from me #but like #u know #reading is a form of creation #and sometimes the choice that the author makes might SEEM random #but it's like. bro that's telling u something.#also hate the vibe where authors/artists mock their audience for finding meaning in something #nahhhh #if u make art u need to be okay with people finding their own reflection in it

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ghoulbrain · 1 month

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Saddle Up, Sweetheart

18+ 3k ghoul x f!reader. cunnilingus/face sitting, overstim, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie. gif credit. prompt list. written for this ask. thank you! 🖤

The Ghoul—Cooper, as you know him now—does not make himself an easy man to get to know. He was harsh with you from the start, one of the crankiest old bastards you’ve ever met. An accomplishment, given your life in the slums. He’s dismissive, angry that you even want to know him, and downright mean most days.

And yet you became fascinated with him.

It was ages before you were able to hold decent conversations, and longer than that before you had a name for him. Still, you keep digging. He intrigues you more than anyone else ever has, and despite his sour attitude, he keeps coming back.

"You won't like what y'find," he told you one day. You knew then you were wearing him down with your persistence.

"What scares you more: the idea that I won't, or the possibility that I will?" You'd asked.

He laughed. "Y'don't scare me, sugar."

You smiled. "Maybe I should."

Cooper started to look at you differently from then on. There had been a sense before that he was observing you as something ephemeral, a flower bud he was waiting to see bloom and die away as quickly as you'd appeared.

Once you made it clear you weren't going anywhere, the invisible walls between you began to fall away. You feel his gaze lingering on you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You watch him in turn, holding his gaze whenever he catches you.

"Eye contact like that'll get'cha killed someday. Predators take it as a challenge," he tells you, adjusting the holster on his thigh.

"Is that what you are?" You ask from where you’re leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You raise your brow, inured to his broody one-liners. "A predator?"

To your surprise, he's the one who closes the distance this time. His footfalls are heavy, his swagger loose. He looms over you, bracing his forearm on the wall behind you. Your heart skips a beat. He rarely ever gets so close.

"I'm the worst kind there is," he says gravely, but you clock his tone for what it is. He's toying with you.

Undeterred, you square your shoulders. "And what kind is that?"

He leans in closer, smelling of oil and gunpowder. "A hungry one," he says, the heat of his breath ghosting your cheek.

Pushing you away hasn't turned you against him. Cornering you won't either. Despite his insistence to the contrary, you're no prey animal. "Well then... I s'pose you ought to have something to eat."

His radiation scarred lips spread slowly into a wicked smile. "Y'offering, sweetcheeks?" He asks, his yellowed teeth parted, poised to take a bite.

You swallow dryly, so keenly aware of the thundering of your own heart, you wonder if he can hear it, too. You tip your head back, jutting your chin out and bringing your lips closer to his.

"You don't scare me, Coop," you whisper, wielding his name like a secret weapon.

He hums, head tilting slowly while his gaze moves down your body in a leisurely calculating sweep. "Well..." He drawls, voice a low rumble from his chest. "Maybe I should."

You're ready for him to do as he's always done and leave you like that, to rile you up and then act as though it was all in your head. You've accepted that Cooper is a man on the run, and he hasn't seen anything in you worth stopping for.

The press of his lips against yours shocks you to your core.

Your arms uncross, hands fumbling to catch hold of his jacket, grabbing him before he can vanish. He responds in kind, cupping your face in the soft worn down leather of his gloves. Your pulse is all the way up in your throat, so wild you’re sure he can taste it when he slips his tongue into your mouth.

His touch isn’t a gradual thing. He’s upon you all at once, forcing your thighs apart with his knee and slotting his thigh between yours, pressing into you until you start to sing for him, those breathy little noises muffled by his devouring kiss. At your hip, you feel the press of his cock gradually filling out beneath the layers of clothing between you.

After so long without meaningful touch, the onslaught is dizzying. You roll your hips, grinding down on his thigh until you feel your underwear clinging wetly to your skin, an exquisite shiver trilling up and down your spine. His lips feel textured and hardened by his condition, but his tongue is hot and smooth, persistently licking into your mouth, determined to feel, to taste.

That hunger drives him from your lips to your jaw, your throat, peppering rough kisses that are as much lips as they are teeth along your neck. “S’your last chance, darlin’. Point of no return,” he tells you, voice coarse. His hand slips between your bodies and starts working your pants open. “Won’t be no comin’ back from this. I’ll ruin you.”

That he would have the audacity to warn you away from the door like this after you’ve been knocking and knocking and knocking is almost laughable. You would laugh if you had enough air in your lungs, but he’s kissed it out of you.

“So ruin me,” you tell him breathlessly. He grazes his teeth over your pulse-point in a way that makes your voice hitch. “I want you.”

The rim of his hat brushes your cheek as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, making a raw noise against your skin. “God damn it,” he says, yanking you from the wall so sharply you gasp. He whirls you around, hands fisted in your shirt, kissing you hard while he walks you backwards, towards the noisy heap of springs and fabric you call a bed.

“Y’outta your fuckin’ mind for that,” he grouses, shoving your pants down off your hips. You don’t disagree, You know how terrifying he should be, what his affliction does to him, to his hunger, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing life back into your dull dusty life at the end of the world.

You’re naked by the time he pushes you down onto the bed, standing above you, sunken eyes black with fervor. He unclips the bullet belt strapped across his chest and shrugs out of his coat, tosses his hat up somewhere high on the bed. You start to crawl backwards, but he snatches your ankle and drags you right back to the very edge of the bed.

“Unbuckle me,” he orders, the words all throaty feverish heat that makes your clit throb. You do, eyes flipping back and forth from him to his belt. He watches you all the while, pulling off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them to the ground. You unbutton his pants next, hands so eager they fumble briefly before you make it to his zipper, the hiss of it coming undone drowned out by the thunder of your pulse in your own ears.

Before you get any further, Cooper catches your wrists and hauls you up to your feet, spinning you around and pulling you down over top of him on the bed. He keeps you steady while you straddle his waist, moving his hands from your wrists to your hips. You start to move back, but he cups your ass and pulls you in the opposite direction.

“Saddle up, sweetheart,” he says, licking his lips. “Y’said for me to have somethin’ t’eat. I intend to.”

Oh fuck.

Nodding hazily, you follow his lead until your knees are on either side of his head, your hands braced on the wall behind your bed.

“C’mon now, relax,” he coaxes, urging you down with his grip on your thighs. You settle most of the way down before he yanks you the rest of it, startling a noise out of you that transitions into a low moan at the molten wet slide of his tongue dragging from the bottom of your pussy to your clit, upon which his lips close down and suck.

The sensation is leagues beyond the amateurish grinding, but that session still left you sensitized. The heat of his mouth is so intense it almost burns. His tongue feels just as unreal, thick and dexterous in the way it works you, swirling repetitive patterns on your clit. He drinks from you like you’re an oasis in the desert, swallowing greedy gulps before sinking his tongue into you, fucking it in and out, coaxing more and more thirst quenching wetness from you.

“Ffffuck, oh my God,” you moan, your hands curling into fists on the wall, sliding until your forearms are braced against it instead, your head hanging between them. You wish you had something to grip, something to dig your nails into as his devil’s tongue builds hot pressure inside of you, swelling sensation toward an inevitable explosion.

Cooper is shameless beneath you, devouring without care for mess or noise. Every so often you feel the graze of his teeth and you buck away from him, but you’re no match for his strength and he keeps you held firmly down, wholly at his mercy despite your positions.

Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to try and escape anymore, he relinquishes his hold on your hip and brings his fingers between your thighs, teasing where you’re wettest with the tip of his finger. With the way he’s sucking your clit you barely notice the initial touch, but he quickly wrings a gasp out of you by sinking his finger in all the way to the knuckle, crooking it wickedly while he rocks it in and out.

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. He walks you on the knife’s edge of your climax, deftly toeing the line with every slow stroke of his finger and swipe of his tongue. Your stomach clenches up with it, breath catching. He pushes in a second finger, and by the time you feel the third working you open, your legs are shaking uncontrollably. He is feasting on you, humming appreciative little noises between the wet sounds of him eating you out.

A sudden jarring slap to your ass makes your quivering thighs tense up and startles a loud moan out of you. He most definitely smiles against you, fucking you steadily with his fingers.

“You son of a bitch,” you manage to choke out, tears prickling at your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of it all, your breaths growing sharper, more shallow. “I should smother you,” you say, the threat dulled by the thinness of your voice.

He smacks your ass again, harder this time. You decide that’s encouragement to do just that and grind down against his mouth, eagerly meeting every thrust of his fingers until one last good slap tips you over the edge, your orgasm striking you like a bolt of lightning. Your whole body goes tense, and Cooper ruthlessly fucks and licks you through it, sucking on your clit as it pulses and pulses and pulses through what feels like the longest climax of your life.

“Enough,” you moan weakly, pushing yourself from the wall on trembling arms. His fingers have slipped free, but he’s still drinking you down, holding your thighs in a vice grip. You can’t stop shaking, the burn of pleasure beginning to feel like the most exquisite pain. “C-Coop, enough, I can’t–you fucker,” you gasp, jolting in his grip when he nips at your clit.

He finally lets you up, easing you down with two hands firmly on your ass. You slide back until you’re straddling his waist, hands braced on his chest while you catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time, knocking you down into his lap as he sits up. He takes your face in his hands and kisses your own taste into your mouth, giving a throaty little rumble.

“I decide when you’ve had enough,” he says, dropping one hand to work his cock free from his undone pants. “And you’ll remember that you asked for it.”

Each word feels like a spark of electricity. You lift yourself on trembling knees, hands on his shoulders, and he puts his arm around you, drawing you in while you sink down until you feel the thick head of his cock–wet with his own precum–nudging against your spit-soaked pussy.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how good you can take me.” You can hear the restraint in his voice, feel it in the thrum of his touch. You hold his gaze while his cock forces you open in one smooth, frictionless slide, the stretch a dull ache that rapidly ascends into pleasure. He lets you adjust a moment or so before he begins to move, holding your hips steady while he rocks his own, reclining down onto his back.

“Don’t you hold out on me,” you tell him through a shuddered breath, hands behind you, braced on his thighs. “You promised me ruin.”

As sharply as he’d slapped your ass, Cooper gives a hard thrust up, his dull nails biting crescents into your skin, his grip all that keeps you from losing your balance. “One taste and y’already damn spoiled,” he says, planting his boots on your bed–you’ll give him shit for that later–and picking up a brutal pace almost immediately. “C’mon then, sweetheart. Ride me.”

You have no choice but to comply, grabbing hold of what you can of his shirt while he bucks hard under you. Every thrust sparks inside you like the strike of a match, your cunt still sensitive. You can already feel yourself climbing towards another peak. You arch your back, watching him through the haze of your own pleasure. His eyes are dark, his teeth bared. He looks like something wild, like something ready to bite.

“Goddamn, that’s it, y’squeezin’ me fuckin’ good now,” he groans, tipping his head back, watching you bounce on his cock through heavily lidded eyes. “Give it up for me, pretty girl. Show me this is really what you want,” he rambles, his accent growing thicker the closer he gets. You nod along, panting wordlessly, his thrusts knocking sweet little keening noises from your throat. “Go on now, that’s it. Show me how it feels when I make you cum.”

The world around you goes black just before an eruption of white explodes behind your eyelids like stars, your whole body stilling to endure the overwhelming crash of your release, the shock of it rolling out in waves throughout your entire body. You don’t speak, you don’t even breathe, too struck by the magnitude of it.

Cooper fucks you through every second of it, slurring a litany of feverish nonsense–your name sprinkled within it–until he breaks off into a choked off noise, and in the middle of your euphoria you feel a the rush of his release spilling deep inside you, his body finally stilling under yours.

You sink down onto his chest, panting against the collar of his shirt. He moves his hand along your back, and a distant part of you is caught off guard by how tenderly he sweeps his fingers up the back of your neck. You answer in kind by slipping your fingers just under his collar, fingertips brushing bare skin that’s as gnarled as the rest of him.

The two of you sit in silence for a long while, neither of you willing to break the spell of your afterglow. The entire world feels softer in it, the dull sepia of it tinged with hints of gold. The dust particles floating around you almost seem to sparkle. In any other moment, you’d scold yourself for romanticizing the rotten remains of a dead world that has been so cruel to you, but for just this moment, you let yourself believe that things can be beautiful, too.

You lose yourself to the warmth of his body beneath yours, and the gentle way he traces the slopes of your body with his fingertips. Eventually, Cooper cleans his throat. You ignore it, reluctant to acknowledge him. You know once you do, the moment will be over.

“Y’might wanna get situated with a pack of Radaway soon,” he murmurs, the twang of his voice still heavier than usual.

Tucked into the crook of his neck, you smile while he still can’t see you, endeared. “I’ve had worse exposures.”

“I find that hard t’believe,” he says, cupping the back of your neck in his palm. His thumb strokes absently back and forth. You can almost believe he’s dragging out these last few moments together, too.

Lifting yourself, you brace your forearms on his chest, staring down at him. His expression is difficult to parse–while there is most definitely a sense of ease you don’t normally associate with him, there’s also a profound sadness.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves his hand from your neck to your cheek, swiping his thumb along the ridge of it. You lean into his touch, ready to ask again, when he makes a grab for his hat and places it firmly on your head, obscuring your vision.

“That was some fine ridin’, sweetheart,” he says, voice as coarse and sweet as raw sugar.

You push the brim up until you can see him again, failing to bite back a smile. “Guess I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts now.”

“I ain’t a sheriff," he says flatly, though the slight tic at the corner of his mouth gives away his amusement.

“That’s right, y’ain’t. ‘Cause I am,” you say in your best impression of him, tipping his hat at him.

He blows out a breath and tugs the rim back down over your eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetcheeks,” he says, and though you can’t see him, you’re certain you can hear the smile in his voice.

Today may never happen again. The world could end tomorrow–again–or Cooper could walk off into the Wastes for the very last time. If you’ve learned anything in this world, it’s that nothing lasts forever. So, you drop your head back down and listen to the beat of his heart, using it to count the moments as they pass.

If they’re gonna be the best you get, you’d like to know how many of them you have.

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout fanfic #fallout #x reader #x reader smut #my writing #smut

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coryosbaby · 6 months

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Life Lessons

Synopsis: helping your best friend fuck your girl can’t be that weird, right?

♡ Content warning . Threesome, pnv, anal (f recieving), degradation, sub! Reader, switch! Coriolanus, dom! Sejanus, creampie, multiple orgasms

Notes: a lil switch! Bisexual! Coryo moment?! Maybe.

Sejanus is his best friend.

Coriolanus’ thoughts run wild with these words, and he thinks consistently and wonders incredibly why his best friend has allowed him to do this— or why Coriolanus himself agrees to this in the first place. Your thighs lay open, skirt and underwear discarded on the bedroom floor, as Coriolanus sits between them. Your cunt is achy and swollen, begging for a cock to fill it while Sejanus lays underneath you. His dick sits throbbing inside your ass as he waits for Coriolanus to slide himself into your wet heat. He waits patiently and coos into your ear as you squirm on him.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Give him some time, baby, okay? Coryo’s new to this, he’s learning.”

Yes, ladies and gentleman, you heard that right: Coriolanus Snow, the handsome, perfect, golden boy of the capital, is a virgin. And now, he’s letting his best friend’s girl pop his cherry.

And sure, his ego is deflating right now as he strokes his cock and watches Sejanus’ experience. He’ll get that ego back up, though, once he learns. He’ll make sure he outdoes Sejanus in every aspect— he’ll show him, alright.

He growls at that comment, perceived as a snide remark to the blonde even though Sejanus didn’t mean it that way. His cockhead drips with precum and he rubs over it with his thumb as he presses himself against your entrance.

“Shut up, Sejanus,” he grunts. “Know what I’m doing..”

And obviously, he doesn’t. His cock clumsily slips against your hole, making you whine and clench in an attempt to suck his cockhead into you. His chest heaves and he lets out a frustrated sound. But not before his brows furrow and he’s saying, “What are you doing?” to Sejanus as the other boy tries to reach out and touch his cock over your shoulder. He pulls his body out of reaching distance, and Sejanus rolls his eyes and attempts to grab him again. Coriolanus slaps his hand away, confusion glazing his features. Calmer now, Sejanus holds out his hand and his eyes grow soft as Coriolanus’ face flushes with embarrassment.

“Cmon,” Sejanus says. “Trust me, Coryo.”

And he does. He trusts him so much that he can’t have room to trust anyone else. So hesitantly, shyly, he grabs Sejanus’ fingers after a moment, and settles them around the base of his cock. He moves his hips forward as Sejanus easily finds your hole without even having to look. He presses the tip of Coryo’s cock into you, and his mouth falls open at the new sensation. You look up at him with doe eyes, and although your true love is Sejanus, you’re happy that you can help Coryo take what he needs.

“Fuck..” Coriolanus grunts, shaky, pressing himself further and further into you. “Is it always this…tight?”

Sejanus chuckles, lifting his hips as if remembering the feeling of your cunt.

“Always. Especially with her. She’s always grippin’ my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” And then after a moment, a small grunt sounds from him as he grips your ass cheeks in his hands. “Even back here.. still has such a tight little hole.”

Coriolanus groans, his hips rocking into you. His balls press against your skin, and he’s all the way inside now. But it feels so good, he doesn’t want to blow his load in the next five seconds, so he goes as slow as possible. You mewl against Sejanus as he begins to move, his cock pummeling your tight little asshole while Coryo begins to speed up his thrusts in your weepy cunt. He can’t help it, now. Your pussy feels too good.

Sejanus watches as Coryo grabs your thighs desperately with his hands, and smiles.

“That’s it. Fuck her just like that.”

And god, Coryo knows it’s fucked up but Sejanus’ approval just makes him even more desperate. He grunts as he watches your cunt swallow him whole.

“Coryo,” you cry out to him. “Please, hard. Wan’ it hard in my pussy, give it to me..”

Coryo becomes confident, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah?” He whispers. He begins to pummel you, skin slapping skin, shoving his nose right into your neck, and he doesn’t care if he isn’t giving Sejanus room to move. All he’s thinking about is how good your walls feel wrapped around him. “Greedy bitch wants another guy’s cock in her tight little pussy?”

You moan, nodding your head yes, and sejanus’ hands wrap around your neck suddenly. His cock twitches in you, the sight of his girl getting fucked by his best friend turning him on a lot more than he cares to admit.

“Kiss him,” he breathes. “Kiss him, baby, let me see.”

And of course you obey, your lips colliding with Coriolanus’ desperately, your tongue scraping the roof of his mouth as throaty moans sound from him. His cock kicks, once, twice, and he’s cumming and it’s the greatest sensation he’s ever experienced in his life as he fills you up rope after rope with warm, sticky cum.

Looking down as his orgasm slows, he looks at your blissed out face, the sudden orgasm providing him satisfaction but not quite enough.

No, this isn’t enough at all. He needs to fuck you more, he needs to use you over and over until he trains himself to fuck you long and hard. He growls, grabbing your thighs and pushing your legs over your head as his sensitive cock moves inside you again. From this angle he can see Sejanus’ cock too, slowly but surely rutting into your ass.

“Slut,” Coriolanus spits. “Fucking slut. Look at you, you just love being fucked like a useless little bitch, don’t you?”

You cry out, the sensations too much but you know you still need to cum. And luckily, there your sweet boy is— Sejanus, his fingers reaching around to hastily rub at your clit. Coriolanus grunts, pushing his fingers away and replacing them with his own.

He rubs them in fast circles, and your pussy pulls taut as you orgasm all over his thick length. Coriolanus grins, proud of himself as he sees you fall apart.

“That’s it,” he says. “Good girl. Cum on my cock.”

Your tongue lolls out, and the man spits onto it as he pounds you, fast thrusts soon giving way to slower ones as his hips stutter and he creams inside you for a second time. He relaxes against your wrecked body, sighing out as he pulls out and his cum spills out of your raw fucked hole.

His eyes connect to Sejanus’, and the boy seems proud but also angry. Coriolanus gets the message to move out of the way, and with strong arms Sejanus lifts up your body and slams you down onto the mattress. His cock moves desperately, chasing the high he’s been craving, and he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back as he fucks you from behind.

All the while, his jaw is clenched and he’s looking at Coriolanus with a fire in his hazel eyes. He has a bone to pick with him later for taking his girl’s orgasm as his own.

And as he watches the blonde’s cock get hard against his stomach for a third time, he knows exactly how he’s going to solve it.

#Coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #Coriolanus snow x reader #Sejanus plinth x reader #Coriolanus snow x reader x Sejanus plinth #Coriolanus snow smut #sejanus plinth smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic

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satoruluvies · 17 days

Text

standing on tiptoes.

୨୧ summary. just as what the title suggests, you get on your tip toes to give satoru a kiss! gojo is completely lovesick and down bad, early stage in the relationship. its gojo's first too °u°

୨୧ desc. sweet sweet tooth rotting fluff because we all need this. 0.7k words from me to you beloved <3

satoru thinks life has been gracious to him lately and he can't pinpoint what he did exactly to deserve this but he hopes he keeps doing whatever it is because he wants you around a long, long time.

satoru wouldn’t call himself a sentimental person but he can't help the soft feeling that pools in his stomach and spread through his chest when you look at him with your oh so mesmerising eyes.

even now, walking back home after a long day with both your hands intertwined and the gradient of the sunset painting the sky, his gaze still shifts to you in small glimpses, red spreading his pretty cheeks all the way to his ears.

“so i was absolutely… toru? are you listening?” satoru swears he was, he was listening to your voice so soothing to him that he forgot to comprehend the words that it formed.

“sorry, what was that again?” his hand found the back of his head sheepishly.

“is everything okay? something on your mind?” a worried expression finds itself on your face and satoru's eyes can't help but dart to your lips that were slightly pouting in confusion, a habit he notices you have.

“y-yeah… yeah no, everything's fine” he forces his gaze to look into your eyes but he couldn't help another glimpse at your soft lips, thoughts of kissing you clouding his mind.

would it be weird if he asked to kiss? are you supposed to ask? how early can you kiss someone in a relationship? would he be good at it?

satoru hadn't realised he was so obvious with his thoughts until he heard you giggle and if he thinks he can't get any more redder than he already is, he was wrong.

“are you sure?” your tone was clearly evident that you were teasing him and the way your head tilts to meet his wandering gaze sends his heart into a frenzy of thumps that he fears were loud enough for you to hear.

“yeah sure, very sure” satoru looks at everywhere but at you because he thinks he would either combust across the next planet or melt on the spot, he wasn't sure but something embarrassing would happen. that, he was sure.

what he didn't expect was instead of teasing him more, you closed the little distance that separated the both of you and slowly rised on your tiptoes, eyes focused on his soft lips. your right hand that were still intertwined with his left, stayed as they are while he waits for the contact of both your lips that never comes.

“help me out a lil won't you?” you chuckle. it wasn't your fault you still couldn't reach his lips even when you're on your tip toes, why did he have to be so tall anyway?

satoru chuckles back as he gets overcome with a sense of confidence at your own blushing cheeks. he leans down and wastes no time to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

your face crinkles in disappointment at the ghost of a peck on your lips and satoru thinks he accomplished the greatest thing ever knowing you wanted more of him.

he realises he would give you the world if you so ever asked. his hand find its way to caress your cheeks softly, completely lost in your eyes and hopelessly so in love.

he leans in and closes the infinity between the both of you, finally finally having a taste of your lips. it was as perfect as he imagined it to be, if not more.

he follows after your lips as you pull away, a soft whine leaving his plump lips you just kissed and you would have kissed him again if you weren't in public doing this.

“i think we've garnered enough stares and annoyed remarks” you laugh, he does too.

“hm i wonder where we can do this without any of that” satoru teases earning another chuckle from you. he thinks he can keep hearing it on repeat for the rest of his life.

“i don't know, you tell me” you shrug as you pull him by your hands that he realised haven't left his, it was so natural. everything was so natural with you.

in the comfort of your home, you in his arms and giving him all the kisses he could ever ask for, satoru thinks he's the happiest man in the world, even as far as the galaxy and expanding even further.

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #jjk drabble #jjk blurb

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luveline · 2 months

Note

omg i love ur pregnant reader x hotch esp the flangsty ones…

maybe him and reader get into a little argument and the fighting plus the hormones plus the constant discomfort makes her leave to stay at a friend’s house for “space” (maybe someone in the bau hehe) then he shows up and grovels and they kiss and make up <333

ty for requesting! —hotch and pregnant!reader make up after a fight (neither being quite as mad as they’d claimed).

“Your boyfriend’s outside.”

You raise your tired head from the couch cushion. “Who?”

Morgan grins at you. “Hotch, mama. He’s at the door.”

Hotch is your husband, not your boyfriend. You’ve got the ring to prove it.

“You didn’t let him in?”

“He said you might not want to see him.”

You want to see Hotch more than you’ve ever wanted to see another person. It is absolute torture to be so heavily pregnant with someone’s baby and to worry they don’t want you anymore. If he’s here at such a late hour, he must’ve forgiven you for being grumpy. Right?

You sit up and let Morgan help you into a standing position. He pulls your blanket tight around your shoulders. “Should I let him in?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You drop your voice to a whisper, “But don’t let him know I’m eager.”

He gives you a knowing smirk. “Course not. Stay here, okay? I’ll bring him in.”

Morgan starts back down the hall. You stand in his living room wondering what Hotch is gonna say, if he’s still mad, if you’re still mad, and if he’s strong enough to carry you back to the car. You don’t wanna sleep in Morgan’s bed, as much as you love him. You want your bed, your Hotch, his baby boy snoring in the room across the hall. You love your life (most of the time, when you aren’t carrying the weight of a bowling ball on your abdomen and the hormones aren’t making you sick).

“Hello,” Hotch says, still in the suit he’d been wearing when he got home that evening, strangely and obviously nervous where he stops in the doorway.

“Hi. Where’s Jack?”

“He went with Jess. I needed to talk to you.”

“Could’ve brought Jack.”

“I didn’t want to upset him if you stayed here.”

You nod. Hotch —who’d cringe if he knew you still called him that in your head, though it’s the name he went by when you fell in love, so what are you supposed to do?— gestures for you to sit, not demanding, only concerned. “It’s late,” he says.

You can’t be bothered to lower yourself awkwardly into the cushion nest you’d made. “Morgan offered me his bed. He has a California king.”

“But you stayed on the couch.”

You glare at him half-heartedly. “Maybe I was watching TV.” You’d been waiting for him to call, but it’s not his business.

He doesn’t seem perturbed by your reaction. He's about to apologise anyways. “I’m sorry for getting mad. I know how stressed you are, and I should’ve done better.”

Your glare softens.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” he furthers, the ever present pinch of his brows particularly severe. His eyes are dark like clouds full to bursting with rain.

You don’t want to say it’s okay. You want him to cross the room and cuddle you up like you’re fragile, the way he does, his nose pressed to your temple as his hands grasp up your achy shoulders.

“I’ll be better,” he says.

“You really wound me up, you know? I already feel like I have cabin fever.”

His eyes cast over you, sympathetic and sorry down to your stomach and up again. He’s pleading without speaking.

You’re not mad anymore, anyhow. “Can you do that thing for me, please?” you ask quietly.

Hotch crosses the distance between you and encourages you into his side and under his arm. Careful, he bends into your back, pressing his hand under the round bottom of your bump and pulling up. It takes some of the weight from your hips and spine, alleviating a certain heavy pain and discomfort, while also closing the sour gap between you both.

“Aaron,” you say, a little shy, mostly relieved, “you should’ve brought Jack. You know I’ll come home if you ask me to. I wasn’t even that mad by the time we got back here.”

His breath is a shudder by your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You look out toward the hall. “Where’s Morgan?”

“He said he’d go for a walk.”

“He's a good friend.”

“He’s a great friend,” Hotch agrees, rubbing the side of you with his other hand before he pulls away completely. “He told me you can always sleep over when I’m acting like your drill sergeant.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning in with arms held up to slide over his shoulder. He lets out a sigh as your chests touch, your bump smushed, like he’s finally been cut from a trap. To think he’d be so clearly relieved at having your forgiveness has you emotional all over again, but not with the same red passion you’d been angry with before. “I’m your drill sergeant,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“You’re my sweetheart,” he says, so quiet you’re sure it wasn’t him, so out of character to admit something like that on a random day. There’s a hint of joking under it, but enough sincerity simultaneously that you melt in his hold. “You are, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t sleep in your own bed.”

“It’s not like I’d have been put out. Morgan’s got a California–”

“So you’ve told me.” His palm stays flat to your back, his fingers patting you gently. His voice mellows into that silken gentleness to match, the tone that drew you in and has you in such a terribly emotional position to begin with. “I couldn’t leave you here. I know you’d be more than comfortable, but I couldn’t sleep the night without you.”

“Imagine how I feel when you’re away.”

“I know. I know.” He kisses the skin shy of your eye. “Should we go and get Jack before bedtime?”

“Can we get something to eat, too?”

His answering smile is a curve on your cheek. “Mm-hm,” he hums. “Let me just say thanks to Morgan. Then we can go wherever you want.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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k-hotchoisan · 3 months

Text

vanilla and cream

where you flip a switch in your pretty boyfriend, and now he has a breeding fetish he can never get out of his system no thanks to you.

Genres: smut, pwp, forced breeding, mild bondage, cream pies, breeding kink/fetish, overstimulation, unprotected sex, whiny and desperate Yeosang for the girlies out there, it's quite a lot of cum (but are we surprised)

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @hongjoongswifefr @yourlocaljonghoe itza-meee

🩷 stay perverted: the masterlist

Yeosang never considered himself to have much kinks or fetishes, at least, before he met you. But even when the relationship as partners turned more intimate, Yeosang never seemed to have much preference when it comes to sex.

But nothing could have prepared him for the effect just one night could have on him. Now he can’t seem to get enough, and he drives him fucking insane. The taste of it still lingers in his tongue as if it just happened the night before, and when he finally snaps out of it (barely), Yeosang has to make sure he’s not wearing pants that that especially pull taut against his crotch, or that would definitely become an issue.

The ironic thing was that it started on an ordinary night.

You are peppering kisses across his temples, his pretty little birthmark, before you go down to his neck and shoulders, listening to the soft hums of approval while his hands are warm on your sides.

“Could you let me try something, Yeo?” You ask, going back to facing him at eye level, your palm resting against his soft cheek.

“What is it?” Yeosang asks back, closing the distance with a kiss. The way he’s swiping and biting softly against your bottom lip, almost erasing whatever you wanted to tell him.

You giggle in between the kiss, teasing him back with your tongue in your mouth before you pull back, leaving Yeosang slightly breathless.

“Do you trust me?”

Yeosang nods, his fingers combing through your hair. “Of course baby.”

“Could you let me tie you up and fuck you?”

Yeosang blinks. He never really gave bondage much thought, and even if he did, he always thought you would be the one tied up.

After a second of silence from him, you shift around the bed, Yeosang following your gaze, watching you take white rope from the nightstand.

“I practiced” you assured him.

Yeosang cocks an eyebrow. “On someone else?”

You hit him playfully, earning a giggle from the male.

“Obviously not, dumbass”, you tease. “So do you want to try it? We can stop any time if it hurts?”

Yeosang ponders for a second. Deep inside, anticipation brews in him—the thought of you tying him up and fucking him on top. It’s not as if he doesn’t let you ride him, it’s just the addition of bondage had roused his interest. So he agrees to try it out.

Your soft, warm walls hug Yeosang, he swears he’s at the fucking gates of heaven. His muscles flex when he pulls against the ropes, groaning at the pleasure rapidly filling him up. His thoughts are swarming altogether, growing incoherent. He wonders if this strangely more euphoric because it’s something new introduced to the bedroom. He’s never complained about the current sex life the both of you have, he enjoys it, but something about this arrangement is getting a rouse out of him. Yeosang’s heart is pounding, and he hopes you can hear that it’s for you.

“Babe…” he trails off, still tugging against the restraints. You think the way he looks almost helpless is so endearing, especially when he has his cock sunk all the way into your cunt. And the thought of being completely helpless while you fucked him senseless? Yeosang is indulging it in like it’s his favourite dessert.

“How does it feel, baby?” You ask, letting your hands run down from your shoulders, giving your nipples a little tug before your hands slide down your bare body and thighs. Yeosang swallows hard, another soft groan leaving his lips as the sounds of skin slapping slowly grows wetter and wetter. His moans turn into whines.

“So good. So tight, so warm. Fuck”, Yeosang curses, forcing his eyelids open, wanting to look at the way your cunt sinking down and swallowing his pathetic, twitching cock, as cream gradually coats his length.

Yeosang barely manages to calm down, trying to regain his breathing, his control, from just bursting in you. He doesn’t want to risk cumming in you, no matter how fucking good he thinks it’ll feel, because it’s the first time in a long while since then both of you fucked without protection. Yeosang bites his lips, taking deep breaths, his abdomen flexing once more, his arms pulling against the ropes again. You stare at him, watching Yeosang shift helplessly, his face contorting into pleasure from time to time when he feels you squeeze against him.

“B-babe… I don’t think—ah fuck—we should keep going”, he barely manages out. You see the beads of perspiration clinging against his temples and his cheeks.

“Why not?”, you tilt your head, your grinding slowing painfully down, Yeosang jerks slightly, he feels his throat grow dry when, especially the orgasm that was dangling before him completely gets snatched from him. Yeosang spits another curse.

“I’m not wearing protection,” Yeosang replies, his thighs now trembling from the tension. “It’s not safe.”

You plant a finger on your lip, scrunching your eyebrows, pouting at him slightly, your pussy still riding off his cock. It feels so fucking good that it’s starting to fucking hurt. “But don’t you want to cum, baby?”

Yeosang’s eyes are slowly growing more glazed out the more your hips slap against his. He wants to cum so fucking badly that he doesn’t even know how he’s still thinking of protection. But he still nods, and he’s rewarded with you picking up the pace and bouncing off his cock again, which he wonders if it’s a punishment to feel this fucking amazing.

“But still—“ Yeosang tries to counter, only to be shut up when you have him completely up to the hilt, dragging your cunt against his poor cock, sending him into another layer of pleasure, his hips unintentionally bucking up to yours.

“I’m so fucking full, Yeo,” you hum, leaning closer into him, your body pressing onto his, still bouncing off him. “You make me so fucking full. So fucking thick.”

A pained whimper escapes his lips. He doesn’t think he can last much longer.

You lean in, your hands cupping his pretty face. Yeosang has his eyes screwed shut, his long lashes resting against his skin, he’s biting his lips, sometimes letting go soft pants that come off as whimpers.

“You’re gonna cum in me like a good boy, okay? You know you want to”, you hum once more, before a soft moan leaves your lips when you feel him grow even more in your cunt, his cockhead pressing against your g-spot when your hips lower down once more to fit him fully once more.

Yeosang is able to lock his fucked out eyes with yours, looking at you with so much desire, so much adoration, before his eyes roll back, his jaw slacks, his abdomen completely flexed. He’s in so much bliss, the pleasure tingling—streaming like electricity across every single nerve that existed in his body as his cock squirts so much thick and warm cum right into your tight little hole. He couldn’t even tell you that he was about to cum before it happened. All he hears is your soft voice, coaxing him to empty it all in your pussy, with broken moans in between.

When Yeosang is barely recovered from his high, your fingers are under his chin, gently guiding his head to face you, still sat prettily on his spent cock.

“Good boy. Look at the pretty mess you’ve made”, you praise, leaning back, forcing him to watch you pull out of him. His cock is decorated in a pretty translucent, wet coat of cum, but what completely flips something in him is when your fingers slide to your wet folds, barely pulling them open, and the thick, white cum trickles out of your hole. Yeosang is completely entranced and breathless. And he��s completely hard again.

“You filled me up so good, Yeo,” you smile, even though at the same time whimpering as another load seeps past your folds.

When you untie his restraints, Yeosang has your legs pushed into a mating press, his cock entering you once again, with much ease thanks to the extra lubricant of cum, before his mind completely blanks out, sanity and rationale somewhere else on earth, just not with him, while his hands pin your wrists above you, and he fucks you like a starved man before breeding another load into you.

Since that night, it was all Yeosang could think about. The bondage was definitely fun, the orgasm denial was heavenly, but nothing could top the way you made him breed you like that. Before he realises it, he’s addicted.

The condoms now were all forgotten at the bottom of the drawer. Yeosang thinks this completely ruined when using condoms, so he stops—the feeling of his bare cock being squeezed raw by your pussy gets him off so fucking fast now.

He would have you seated on his cock, riding him, creaming on him, squeezing him before he empties his load right into you, making sure you milk him dry of every single drop.

You were right. Your cunt was made to be his cum dumpster. And Yeosang can’t get enough.

It was to the point that he bought a full length mirror that faced the bed from an angle, and he would have you ride him, while he watches from the mirror the way his cock is swallowed full by your pussy, your moans accompanying his cock hitting in the deeper areas of your cunt. He would grab a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks wider, watching the way he forces his cock to go deeper in you, and the fucking cries that come out of you? So fucking delicious.

If it wasn’t fucking you on cowgirl, he would have you face the mirror, legs spread wide open, his cock stuffing you full from the bottom in full view in the mirror.

Either way, he never misses the way his cum dribbles and drips out of your pussy hole, usually accompanied by your shaking thighs and breaths.

And then he would slide his cock right back in, making sure he breeds you full for the next two rounds.

His words in the bedroom turned more dirty too, reminding you that his cock will always have enough to fill you up over and over again until he is satisfied.

The extent? He even videos some of the fucking if he doesn’t have time to fuck and breed you on days and weeks when he’s unable to meet you.

The phone is pointed right at your pussy, propped on a tripod from an angle, so his phone camera is able to capture the scene in full. Your legs are wide open, your mind hazy from the euphoria.

“We’re not done yet, baby”, Yeosang reminds you, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing them lower. The camera catches your cunt in full view, before Yeosang’s cock comes into view, sliding right into you, immediately thrusting right into you, and it records your choked moans and the obscene sounds of the both you fucking like rabbits.

“Fuck, Yeo, you’re so deep,” you cry out, eyes rolling back when his cock hits your sensitive spot. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum so much on your cock”

Yeosang’s low voice only pushes you further, and he encourages you, “that’s it baby. Doesn’t that feel good too?” His thrusts are becoming ruts, desperate and feral, making sure you feel it all the way in your stomach before you completely let go, your walls convulse against his cock before he spills his load right into you once more. He pulls out, rubbing his cockhead on your folds without much friction, no thanks to the cream and cum.

Then he moves away, giving you a few seconds before cum starts to trickle out of you once more. His fingers come into view, rubbing both sides your folds before he pulls them open slightly so even more cum seeps out onto the soiled sheets beneath you. You’re so out of it, still recovering from your high before Yeosang dives in for another wet kiss.

Yeosang moves out of the frame once more, his hand reaching out to halt the recording, his mind buzzing with excitement to watch such a perverted video when he’s away from you. He tosses the phone onto the bed, giving soothing rubs on your thighs while his muscled arms are wrapped around you, kissing the back of your neck.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip affectionately while the both of you cuddle.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, your fingers dancing along his biceps.

“Thinking about how I should fuck and breed you in public too, make sure you keep my cum nicely in your pussy while we go on our date. And if you don’t, I’ll keep breeding you till you’re begging me to stop.”

You stare at him, speechless and you think to yourself-- what the fuck have you done?

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez x reader #ateez fic #kpop smut #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang ateez #yeosang imagines

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

Text

— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .

synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.

contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue

Z H O N G L I

Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.

It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.

It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.

"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."

"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.

"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.

"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."

"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.

"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"

"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"

A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."

"(Name)?" Everyone questions.

"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.

Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."

Silence.

A cup drops.

Tea spills (literally).

Then,

"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.

"Married." Zhongli confirms.

"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"

Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."

"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.

"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"

Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."

"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.

In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—

Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.

"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.

"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."

"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.

"I don't."

The group blinks.

"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.

"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.

". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.

"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"

Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."

His jaw drops. Venti laughs.

|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||

~ bonus ~

"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"

"No? What makes you think that?"

"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."

tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why

//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted

"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."

ko-fi support | character m.list

#genshin #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli fluff #zhongli fic #genshin fluff #genshin x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

I wanna kiss HSR men on the forehead and tell them I’m proud of them. May I request some HCs of their reaction?

Aventurine practically melts the moment your hands held his face with a warm tenderness as your thumbs softly caressed his cheeks, causing him to close his eyes and eagerly lean into your touch.

He could feel every ounce of love you had towards him in such a simple touch that he wondered how that could even be possible.

How easy you made it seem to be able to convey all your thoughts and feelings in something small like a touch of a hand, a brush of shoulders, or even a nudging of a foot; something that shouldn’t convey as much heavy emotions but did whenever you were the one performing those small gestures.

Not to mention that most of those small but impactful gestures were directed towards him made Aventurine wonder whatever could he -out of everyone else- have possibly done to even remotely deserving of any of it.

‘I’m proud of you Kakavasha.’ You said as you lifted a hand to push away his bangs and press a loving kiss to his forehead, making him whimper and press further against your lips, silently begging you for more. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ You add as you pressed another kiss to his forehead.

Such simple words and a peck to his forehead shouldn’t have so much effect over Aventurine but it did as his eyes shot open the moment he felt you pull away, looking at you with his pretty eyes with something you’ve never seen before as he muttered under his breath.

‘What was that?’ You then asked as Aventurine sighs, leaning back against the bed. ‘I said I wanted more…please can I have more.’

‘You can have as many as your heart desires.’ You tell him, pressing a third and a fourth kiss to his forehead as he allows himself to properly relax under your seemingly magical touch, letting kiss away his thoughts until only you remained.

Argenti would smile sweetly as he watched you push his bangs back to reveal his forehead, feeling your warm breath fan across his skin as your lips closed the distance between you as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

‘I’m so proud of you Aregenti.’ You whispered but the cherry haired knight hear you clear as day.

‘Whatever for my beloved rose.’ He’d replied as he kept you close, wishing for nothing more than to commit this tender moment to his memory ever more.

You shrug. ‘Am I not allowed to say that I’m proud of you in general rather than say it after you’ve done something spectacular? Don’t that seem a little redundant?’ You asked as Argenti chuckled, bringing his face close and nudging his nose gently against your own.

‘It does indeed.’ He agrees before posing a question of his own. ‘But wouldn’t the words loose their meaning after a while if we were to say how proud we are of each other after everything?’

‘No.’ You answered without hesitation as you looked into his pretty eyes that you loved to see first thing in the mornings you’ve shared together thus far. ‘Not if they come from your lips they don’t. I don’t think I could ever grow tired if you were to tell me how proud of me you were.’ You admit and Argenti made a face.

‘Do I not do that enough already?’ He asks genuinely curious as you smile, kissing his cheek.

‘You do but at least let me return the favour now and then. I want to praise my beautiful knight more often than not.’ You murmured against his skin.

Argenti hums as he kisses your forehead. ‘You already do so just by smiling lovingly at me. I don’t need words of praise to fall from your lips when your actions speak far louder but if that’s what you wish, then it shall be granted my beloved rose.’

Sunday

His wings would flutter when you kiss his forehead after a long day of preventing The Family from collapsing in on itself.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ You uttered into his ear, making him gasp as his wings would instinctively twitch at the sound of your voice due to their hyper sensitivity.

Then he would regain composure and smile graciously at you. ‘Thank you my beloved. It is truly a relief knowing that I’m doing right by you to earn your love and your praise, I shall not waste them.’

Sunday lives and breaths on your praises as though they were the only things giving him life. So whenever you do give him praise for anything, Sunday feels more and more validated into continuing whatever he was doing in hopes of earning more in the future.

You had a powerful, powerful man who had an innate need to prove himself to you in order to gain your trust, love and respect and won’t stop until he had it in droves.

All this was within him and locked behind a calm, cool and levelheaded facade.

He may not look like he was heavily affected by your actions and sweet words on the outside but internally his need to keep you happy and proud of him outweighed everything else as the happier you were, the less likely you were to attempt to leave him later on.

Boothill

He impatiently waits for the days where you bless his face with kisses and whatnot.

It’s his ultimate weakness and you knew that face very well whenever you watched as his cheeks went all flushed, making this shark teethed man looked about as harmless as a puppy dog, when in actuality he was anything but harmless.

‘I’m so proud of you.’

You had this man weak in the knees from that alone, but the fact that you went out of your way to press a kiss to his forehead oh so sweetly had him practically kneeling before you in worship.

‘Whatever for darling?’ He’d ask.

‘Just for being genuine yourself.’ You would response, kissing his forehead a second time and pulling back to watch as he smiled dopily.

‘If me just being myself is enough to earn me some forehead kisses and sweet praises from someone as sweet as you, then count me in sweetheart.’ He would then say as he practically melted he felt your hands as they held his face still as you kissed his forehead for a third time.

Boothill thrived off of your affection.

It was his personal drug that he could never get enough of.

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