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ackermans-freedom-inc · 1 year

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My Dearest Erwin,

After so many years, this letter may not come as a surprise to you. I fear I haven’t been as hidden with my feelings about you as I should’ve been. Especially considering… everything.

I know we wouldn’t have met if you weren’t sent to protect me. The world wouldn’t torment me if I were born lesser, because then I could be yours and you could be mine, and lord knows it’s too cruel for a kindness like that. How painful it is that the universe puts you so close yet keeps you just out of reach.

But I want you to know that even if I can't have you, if I can't touch and love you the way I want or the way you deserve, the only thing my heart longs for is you. I sit through lessons, and beside my father in court and all I want is to be anywhere else. Somewhere quiet, without tradition and war. Somewhere where I can be with you.

You’re around so often, and yet you seem so far away. How I love the walks in the garden we take, where you offer your arm so I don’t trip. Or the dances, even though I barely see you aside from the one dance we have together. I never feel safer knowing that you're so close by my side or right outside the door. I have to put on a face for so many things, be brave and act accordingly. I wish I were able to speak this to your face but I fear my words would fail me. Or my body would betray me and cause me to not say anything at all.

How often I have been so close to saying it to you only to stop myself in the name of being proper and doing my duty. The way you stick by me on my sickbed, or remember what honey I liked best in my tea. These things, you being yourself, you don't even know how hard it's been for me not to say anything even though I know it's for the best.

Yet here I am, writing a letter anyway as if somehow it means less. But no matter how I tell you, it's no less true. I love you Erwin. With every fibre of my being, I love you. The list of things I wouldn't give to be with you is easier to remember than the list of things I would. I could give everything.

I know nothing good could really come from my confession, nothing except knowing that perhaps you’ll be mine.

Forever yours, Nemo

Your Royal Highness,

I write my reply by candlelight, for fear of prying eyes. Even now you slumber just beyond my reach, but oh, princess, my princess, how I long to be with you.

I have accepted years ago the fact that to be by your side is all I will ever have of you. To silently watch over you, to give my life for you.

Those moments we shared in the garden I believed to be my duty, but now I admit they were selfish. I wanted to offer you my hand out of fondness and nothing else. To hold your hands in mine and pretend, just for a moment, that we live in a world where there was no duty. No duty to the crown, to his Royal Highness the King, to tradition.

To do away with all of it, I would give my title, my knighthood, my honours, everything. If just to spend a moment away from it all with you. To dance more than once dance with you before handing you off to your many suitors, or to speak up when you father admonishes you before the court for your lack of interest in that snivelling prince who thinks he is, for one second, worthy of your hand.

And now, my dear princess, even now I must read your words over and over, for fear they may disappear if I pry my eyes away. I now know fate was not so cruel to allow us to meet and for a simple royal guard such as myself to fall so deeply in love without reprieve. To know your feelings, to understand that those moments were not my own, oh how I cherish them.

You are right, however your highness, for nothing good could come of your gilden words. I will carry your letter by my heart, but you must never write me again. There are dangers beyond your comprehension within these walls, and there are eyes and ears abound. What we share must be kept hidden, for my safety, and more importantly, yours.

I will carry you with me no matter how far I stray. No matter where it is my duty to the crown takes me, know that my heart is with you. Always. Forever.

Indeed, forever yours,

Erwin

#nemo i am feral over this #Valentines Day Letters 2023 #Valentines Day Event 2023 #forbidden romance with knight erwin and princess reader is my jAM #suz.writes #suz's inbox #suz's events #sender - bluebellhairpin

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animereaderinsertwriter · 9 months

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to fuck a god

tags/warnings: smut, ares x nymph!reader, erwin smith x reader, ancient greece au for a hot minute

a/n: this fic is a gift for the lovely, wonderful @bluebellhairpin whom i adore (and is responsible for my schmexy icon!!!!)

There is shouting in the distance.

Your nose wrinkles, your eyes tighten. Darkness, warm and weighted, presses against you, smothering wakefulness. Peace lulls you back to slumber.

Moments later, there is a scream— you hear it past the darkness, past the weight. It is the lonely, abandoned cry of a wounded soldier. Your heart lurches, your eyes flutter.

Still you sleep. It has been too long since last you had rest.

It is a crash that finally wakes you. Pain blossoms in your abdomen as a bridge collapses, a crushing pressure that forces air from your lungs. You rise, hot, raging, vengeful; your waters churn, boiling wine-dark with the blood of mortal men. Battle has come to your riverbank, unbidden and unwanted.

The men do not— cannot— see your body as you emerge from foaming rapids, but that does not lessen the doom they face by the outstretching of your hand. This is your river. The silt and sand beneath their feet, the water in their noses and lungs belong to you; they will not savage it without price

They pay with their lives by the dozen. You extract it from them mercilessly, plunging them beneath the water's surface. As your rapids rage, one man reaches, lunging to gouge another with his spear; even in your wrath, you mark the act as strange. What manner of beast is man that even in the throes of his own death, he seeks to cause another's? You find it too foolish to fathom.

“For Athens!” cries one man just before you fill his lungs with water. “For the noble House of—”

He does not finish. You smother his battle cry with watery death. Athens could burn for all you cared, along with every noble house and home along the way. You cared little for irreverent man; would that the gods would send you power enough to flood them all.

“Such fury from one so small. Would that I could inspire like rage in even fifty men.”

The voice, though gruff and deep, was quiet, bemused. In your distraction, you allow a man to escape your clutches and crawl back to shore, gagging and sputtering as he went. Furious, you turn and find the true object of your ire lounging beneath the shade of a fig tree, a scroll in hand. Once, it might have amused you to find the god of war reading, of all things— but you were accustomed now to his all-too-frequent visits, and the oddity had worn off its charm.

“Restless vagabond,” you spit, feet slapping as you walked from your place in the water to the shore next to his tree. “Go back to Sparta, Ares—you're not wanted here.”

So saying, you fold your arms, waiting for a response. When the god doesn’t deign to reply, you flick water from the tips of your fingers in his direction. Shiny droplets land in his dark hair, glistening like dew; a single shimmer of water races down the thick bridge of his nose, then dives off the blunt tip of it to land on his scroll.

“Woman.”

The word is spoken lowly— a warning— but has no real bite. Your words, however, are far from toothless, heedless of how great and terrible is the power that he wields.

“I am no mere woman— no more than you are mere man.”

Dark-bright eyes look up at you, their russet brown edging on red as they sparkle with mischief. As his gaze follows the curves and plains of your body, Ares smiles— the very definition of crude and lascivious.

“You are a woman in all the ways that count.”

That, you supposed, was true enough.

“Why have you come?”

He nods towards the chaos of your river.

“The men brought me.”

“As if mortal man makes his own war.” Your face contorts into a scowl. “I ask again: Why have you come? Why come you to savage my banks, pollute my waters with foul man-blood and stinking mortal shit?”

“I told you the truth, pretty one.” Ares rolled his scroll gently. It crackled under his huge hands, but did not bend. “The men wage war, and whithersoever they wage, there I must be also.”

“Pretty one,” you grumble, angry at how well the compliment pleased you. “Better wrathful one, or vengeful one.”

“Those too, if it pleases you.”

He stands, brushing grass from his toga. The clothing in question, made of crimson fabric, falls just shy of halfway down his bulging, golden thigh, revealing softly curving muscle. The hulking mass of him throws a shadow long enough to cast doubt and fear into your very bones, even more so as he approaches you— but then he is close, so very close, and murmuring sweetly just for you to hear.

“Come, my Lady Wrath, my Darling Vengeance— does my presence really disturb you so greatly?”

You can smell the battle on him. His scent is metallic, like blood, and salty like sweat— and yet there is also the clean scent of the field, the spice of victory wine, and the smoke of burning bodies. Ares is and always has been a study in opposites, both animal magnetism and soft, reasonable attraction.

"Yes," you admit, striving for exasperation and hitting nearer to tremulous want. "You do disturb me."

A large, warm hand grips your hip. You suddenly become aware of the bareness of your skin, the cool damp of you against the warm heat of him. The contact brings a flush to your cheeks. Your body responds as his hand flexes, squeezing; you can't help but search his gaze, wondering, as ever, what he's thinking.

"I love that you're naked," he says, at once soft and sharp. "Your form pleases me, lady nymph. Your kind are never shy, but you are the only river-sprite I know that dares brave land baring all."

He touches you further, that large, rough hand sliding up the curve of your waist. He spreads his warmth from your hip to your ribcage to your neck, gently exploring. The touch is electric, yet strangely innocent. He is a god admiring Creation. Admiring you.

As before, you allow it— and how could you not?

Who were you to say no to the attention and affection of a god?

"The men are dying in my waters," you say as his fingertips trace your jaw. "I'll fall ill, Ares."

"You shall not. I shall send another of my kin to cleanse you, as I did before."

You have nothing to say in return. As if sensing this, he kisses you, busying your mouth with the more pressing business of his want. Both of his hands are on you now, one on your neck, one at the swell of your ass; as he pulls you close, you can feel the hot, hard length of him against you, protected only by the thin fabric of his toga. The sensation is heady, and you pride yourself on keeping your feet through the ordeal.

"Will you let me have you once more?" he asks against your lips. "What say you, my nymph of rage?"

You consider for a moment. Always, he gives you the choice. You know he needn't— he is stronger, more powerful, and could and had easily taken what he wanted before. It makes you wonder if giving you the choice, allowing you to choose him, is a way for him to conquer you. In the end, it doesn't matter. There was only ever one answer.

"Yes." Your breath comes quick as a calloused thumb brushes over your nipple. "Yes, Lord Ares. I will have you."

In the end, there is no shame. Even Aphrodite herself had been unable to say no to the wiles of the war god. As conqueror, it was not in his nature to be refused.

Having gained your assent, Ares does not waste precious time. Instead, he kisses up your neck, to your ear, taking the lobe of it between his teeth and scraping gently. The act sends goosebumps racing down your flesh, and you shiver. Ares kisses lower, down to the hollow of your throat and the plain of your chest, his hands wandering to hardened, sensitive nipple and gently curving breast. He touches you, explores you, holds you like you are precious, and your body opens to him.

"Spread your legs," he says against your neck. "I want to taste you."

So saying, he lowers himself to his knees, bringing himself of a height with your sex. Filthy and impossible, he noses at the apex of your thighs, nudges your legs apart with his hands; it is everything you can do to remain standing as he begins a great and terrible onslaught against your dignity. It is so much. It is not enough. Your hands move to his hair, pulling the soft strands as a long, thick finger finds your entrance, and he groans as he finds that his finger slips easily inside. Still, he does not budge from his task until you're trembling, quaking above him as your orgasm nears— and even then, it is only to look up at you with glistening mouth and fuck-me eyes and say,

"Kneel."

You can do nothing but obey. You kneel before Ares, and he kisses you, letting you taste your own pleasure from his mouth. It's filthy and perverse and everything you've ever wanted as he lowers you gently to the earth, wrapping your legs around his wide hips. You look up at him, awestruck. In this moment, he is soft, beautiful. He is nothing like you would have imagined War to be.

Ares takes a moment to toss aside his clothing. His sex is even larger than you remember it— or, perhaps his form alters according to his godly will, and he is striving to impress. In any case, your sexes are now aligned— his tip to the very opening of your body— and all that remains is one push before he is fully seated.

Despite all, you find yourself anxious for that push.

"Do it," you urge, smothering that feeling. "Fuck me, Ares."

You can tell it pleases him to hear his name from your mouth. Even so, he does not acquiesce immediately, which both frustrates and endears him to you.

"I'll go slowly," he says. "It is no small thing to fuck a god. I thought you'd have learned that by now."

You have no reply— not when his cockhead is pushing slowly into you, making way for the rest of his large, heavy cock. It is nearly a religious experience, being filled by him. You cry out as he's finally seated deeply within you, and all at once you can no longer tell where you end and he begins.

"Yes," you tell him as he withdraws to begin another slow thrust. "Yes, yes, yes."

The word becomes a song as he picks up the pace. It is a song of moans and cries and deepest feeling— he kisses you as you keen, and the hot, hard length of him slows to an agonizing pace.

"Are you alright?" he asks, as though you are breakable. "Should I slow down?"

It infuriates you.

With all your power, you shove at his chest. At first, be doesn't seem to understand, taken aback by your newfound aggression— but eventually, when you use the force of your hips to indicate your desire, he goes easily backwards, landing with a gentle thump on his back so that you can straddle his hips, impaling yourself on his length. Hands braced on the warm softness of his chest, you begin to grind, pushing him ever deeper into you until both of your breaths come heavy and your time is near.

"You were made to be abed with War," Ares tells you, smiling madly up as you move above him. "Indomitable, you are, and ruthless— I have no doubt that a thousand lives could not separate us."

You barely hear him.

"Lovely creature. I would make you my queen, if I could." His voice pitches upward in a moan of pleasure as you use his body. "I would make you heir to my kingdom of ash and broken bone, would burn worlds for you."

Cogent thought is lost to pleasure, but you feel the meaning of his words. It pushes you closer, so close, so close—

"Come, pretty one," he says, "Awake, destroyer of man. I will catch you if you fall, in this life or the next."

You jerk awake.

A warm hand rests on your shoulder. You turn, groggy with sleep, and find a pair of shining blue eyes peering into your own. Erwin Smith—your husband and commander— has never looked more handsome than now, with chest bare above pajama pants that fall a little too short at his ankle.

"Are you alright, love?" he asks you, tender, gentle. "A nightmare?"

The wetness between your legs indicates otherwise. You guide his large, calloused hand there, wordlessly allowing him to feel your answer, and he smiles.

"In that case, I'm sorry for waking you." He presses a kiss to your temple, a finger pressing into your folds. "You don't get enough downtime as it is."

You hum in agreement and run your hands along the solid, curving lines of his biceps.

"You could always order me on bed rest, commander," you tease as he shifts, placing himself exactly as Ares had in your dream— between your thighs, your legs wrapped around his hips.

"If I did that, nothing would ever get done."

"No? Am I that big of a help, then, that the Scouts couldn't function without me?"

"No," Erwin grinned, mischievous, "It's because if I put you on bed rest, I'd never leave your bed."

You smile, then gasp as he presses against you, cock straining against the thin fabric of his pajamas. The feeling is startlingly familiar, and all at once, Ares' words come back to you.

"You were made to be abed with War. Indomitable, you are, and ruthless— I have no doubt that a thousand lives could not separate us."

You wonder if the dream was entirely that. It felt so raw, so real— and, though Erwin and the Ares of your dream shared little physical similarity, you suspected that they were made of the same parts. Only the paint was different. Ares was bronze and dark where Erwin was pale and blond, but in their hearts— in their dark, violent hearts, capable of more and deeper love than a mortal could imagine— they were the same. They were men made of war, bathed in the blood of innocents.

And they both wanted you.

"Lay back," you tell your husband, pushing at the soft muscle of his chest. "I want to ride you."

Erwin grins.

"I thought you'd never ask."

#ares x reader #ares #erwin smith x reader #ancient greek au #erwin smith #nemo my beloved

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anlian-aishang · 5 months

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i'm slipping leftover chili on your windowsill to help burn all the sickness from your body. i also have a levi here i can leave too if you want him.

nemoooooooooo <3 <3 <3 chili sounds absolutely perfect right now. i bet you make the world's best chili. nemo's famous chili, if you will [[office reference]]

you can slide levi under the window sill, too. i'm sure he'll fit 🥰 and also i love you nemo

#i'm high on dayquil halp me.#sorry if this is incoherent ahhhhhh #bluebellhairpin #WHOLESOME INBOXES #chats #asks #answers #alias's

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whats-her-quirk · 3 months

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YOU KNOW TOOOOO. THE ERWIN MEEMS. U KNOWW.

My boards are mostly full of Jean ones but like I love this genre of memes affirming that we are their wives. OUR MANS

#mail bag #bluebellhairpin

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54prowl · 4 months

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Ngl I wash only one kind of meat. We get these lamb roasts from the supermarket and I ONLY rinse them under water to get the blood and gunk off bc it gives me the ick. Otherwise yes I agree there is zero point in washing meat lol

why'd the butcher not bleed the animal before chopping it up oh god

i'm so concerned dfkjghdakjghkjdghkjdfhgjkafhjk

#prask #bluebellhairpin #nemo omg...#and im coming from a culture who eats animal blood ok!!! i'm not yucking it #but an animal should be bled properly and the gunk and coagulated blood won't be on there aaaaaa

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lostinwildflowers · 9 months

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He would've ordered your favourite cake, just big enough for the two of you. He's have a nice dinner at home all set out with candles woth food from your FAVOURITE place. He'd have like two, three presents all ready for you, and he sits right next to you all night long <3

YOU ARE SO RIGHT

and then we watch my favorite shows and if I ask him for a back rub, his hands are all over me🥰

#Hanging with Birch🌿#bluebellhairpin #Nemo🌿

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selfindulgentpixies · 6 months

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Private Indulgences

MDNI Yandere!Suguru Geto x GN!reader Ahh here it is finally my contribution to @bluebellhairpin's Fright night bash! CW: Yandere Geto, GN!reader, AFAB!reader, Tentacles, curse fucking, heavy dub-con toeing the line of non-con depending on how you look at it. Reader is implied to have been more resistant to Geto in the past but has had that worn away. Summary: You've been with Geto for a long time, you think you know what to expect of him but he likes proving you wrong.

Geto Suguru was nosy. This was something you knew very well. Actually invasive could be a better word when it came to you. Oh it’s not immediately apparent because of how smooth he is in most of his actions, often making you think it’s your own idea to give him whatever information it is he’s digging for if he needs to get it directly from you. But in all the time he’s had you, yes had you, because you didn’t really choose this life as much as he’d decided he wanted you and you had been in no position to deny him, something you’d discovered very quickly. In all this time though you’d learned over and over that there wasn’t a way to keep anything from his keen gaze. Either through his own direct observation or those reporting to him, his curses being among the ones reporting. Creepy creatures that often followed you and kept you under watch since the early days when you’d still stubbornly clung to the idea that you could somehow escape..

So really this was your own fault. You should know any privacy you’re given is an illusion even once he’d given you your own phone again. It had certainly been a gift met with suspicion on your part but you were careful with it because you liked the entertainment it could bring and so you’d never done anything with it that could be considered breaking his trust. Honestly, who could have helped you anyway if you’d called someone. He’d taught you that lesson swiftly and harshly early on.

The phone was then simply for reaching Geto himself and for amusing yourself. The entertainment had been innocent enough at first but the internet being the internet you’d eventually found ways to entertain yourself that were less so. Geto was a busy man and sometimes you took that as a chance to take care of yourself. All fairly vanilla until you’d stumbled across art of a creature that very much looked like a curse having its way with a- oh OH. You’d closed out of the app you’d been using abruptly and vowed to push it from your mind. But curiosity slowly won out and you sought the art purposefully, at first shyly but then more comfortably as time went on. Something about it so taboo especially when you often saw monsters daily that were summoned by your keeper.

Said keeper who’d asked you to follow him to a dimly lit room that of which he locked the door of once you were both inside. When you turn to face him you see your phone dangling between his fingers looking at you with what would appear to be a kind, warm expression even, to someone else. Not you though, you know the danger that smile carries, the predatory sharpness hiding in his gaze. Oh you were so stupid but you were pretty sure you knew what this was about considering you can’t think of anything you’d done with your phone beyond your questionable smut preferences that may get this reaction from him. “A-ah you found my phone I’ve been looking for it,” you try to play dumb even though you know he hates it when you do.

He tips his head to the side, his smile tightening. Oh you were so screwed. “Mhm, I’m sure you have. You know… you certainly have some surprising browsing habits.”

A nervous laugh from you along with what you hope is an innocent smile. “Aha what are you talkin-” The way he tips his chin up, a warning to not lie to him. The only warning you were sure you’d get. A feeling of dread sits heavy in your stomach. You clear your throat, shamed heat rising to your cheeks. “Y-you’re talking about the art right…?” You hunch your shoulders and dip your head slightly. Honestly the way you withdrew on yourself when you were in trouble reminded him of a certain someone. It makes him want to make you squirm even more.

“And the stories,” he intones smoothly, watching as you shrink just a bit more and avert your gaze.

“And the stories,” you repeat after him meekly. You don’t even realize he’s stepped closer to you until his hand is loosely gripping your chin and turning you to look at him.

“Who would have ever thought a sweet looking thing like you would be into something so dirty.”

“I-i’m sor-” you begin to stammer, your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire.

“If I’d known I would have indulged you sooner. “

Everything stops.

He grins as you blink up at him owlishly, stunned and confused by the meaning of his words. Then you feel it, the familiar shifting of the air, the pressure that’s given off when Geto opens the way for one of his curses. Your hair stands on end, your senses telling you that it’s right behind you and it’s confirmed by the inhuman rumble and clicking sounds behind you.

Breathing beginning to quicken you glance over your shoulder. The creature emerging from the portal stares at you with a massive eye, some of it’s tentacles already sliding through and landing on the floor. “No no no no no-” You mumble to yourself while turning fully and taking a step backward, directly into Geto’s chest and his waiting arms.

“No?” he leans down and breathes over your ear. “But doesn’t it look just like those creatures in the ‘art’ you’ve been browsing? I thought you’d be excited.” His voice is dripping with mock hurt and disappointment.

You try to pull away from him so you can attempt to flee the room but he’s wrapped his arms around you securely. “Geto-sama please I don’t,” you begin pleading. It had to be a sick joke right? Sometimes he liked playing mind games with you even if he’d never done something quite like this.

“Are you really going to turn away my generous offer? I’m the only one who can do this for you afterall.” One of his hands begins to toy at the hem of your shirt before his fingers smooth over the softness of your stomach. “Do you think I’d let it hurt you?”

“N-no of course not I-”

You feel his lips press against the side of your neck, right above your pulse point. He keeps them there for several moments before pulling away with a nip that makes you inhale sharply. “If you know I wouldn’t let it hurt you, why is your pulse beating rabbit quick, hmm? Are you perhaps excited and just not ready to admit it to yourself?” He muses before rising back to his full height keeping you in his arms.

You realize then you don’t have a good answer. You weren’t entirely sure what you could try saying to him to get him to change his mind, especially when you press back against him more firmly in reaction to the curse emerging further from the portal and you feel the hard and familiar line of his cock against your back through the layers of your clothes. He was turned on by the idea of this. Your options for getting out of this effectively dropping to zero.

Gently he begins guiding you toward a bed of pillows and blankets on the floor you hadn’t initially noticed in the dimly lit room. He moves to recline into the plush surface while pulling you along to rest against his chest where he begins to remove your shirt. You could try to resist but honestly that would probably just make him angry so you oblige him and lift your arms so he can discard the garment then the rest of your clothes follow in short order leaving you naked against his still very much clothed form. That much wasn’t unusual, what was unusual was the curse watching you.

You attempt to close your legs tightly only for Geto to tut at you and separate your thighs with his strong hands. “Now now don’t start misbehaving now.” When he doesn’t sense any resistance one of his hands goes between your legs, his long fingers sliding through your folds. You swallow thickly knowing what he’s found even before he speaks. “So much resistance all while your body reacts honestly.” You don’t need to look at him to know he’s giving you a sly grin. He raises his glistening fingers for you to see.

It’s habit that your lips part for him, unthinking when he brings his fingers to your mouth. When the digits press past your lips, allowing you to taste yourself against his skin you get lost in your head for a moment, lost in the praises getting cooed in your ear. He knows exactly what his voice does to you, the way he’s able to ignite a fire in your belly with just a few carefully chosen words. It’s enough for you to forget your circumstances until you feel the cool and slightly slick slide of one of the curse’s tentacles moving up your leg. When had it gotten so close? Goosebumps prick over your skin and you bite down on the fingers in your mouth without meaning to. Geto's hissed breath is the only warning you get before he presses down harshly on your tongue making you gag. You didn’t do any real damage but bad behavior still needed to be met with reprimand either physical or verbal. “You know better than to bite,” He scolds with no real heat and rests his head on top of yours.

You whine around his fingers, drool slipping out the corners of your mouth and tears pricking at your eyes. It’s the most you can do since attempting to talk with his fingers in your mouth would get a similar reprimand for talking with your mouth full.

It all serves as a minor distraction while the tentacle slides higher, wrapping around your leg as it goes to hold it in place, followed by another tugging at your other ankle spreading your legs for a third to boldly move up between them. It's all slick and heavy muscle as it slides over your slit before pressing into your folds, and experimentally dipping into you. You jerk involuntarily in Geto’s hold, the hand not wetly fucking his fingers into your mouth moving to press against your lower belly in the way he’d normally tease you while fucking you. “Just think of it as an extension of me. AfterallI no one else is allowed to touch you like this.” He kisses your temple as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting him to your lips before he brings those spit slicked fingers down to rub against your clit at the same time as the tentacle presses into you. Filling you in a way that’s so foreign to anything else you’ve felt. Cool and tapered at the end. You moan and grip at Geto’s robes desperately. You choke a bit on the excess spit still in your mouth as the tentacle flexes inside of you, filling you in a way you never have been before and touching every sensitive part of you. Combined with Geto’s fingers expertly massaging your clit you see stars, gushing around the curse inside of you and making a mess of Geto’s clothes.

Geto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound vibrating in his chest. "You came so quickly," he coos. “I knew you wanted this.” All the while neither he nor the curse have stopped their movements. You make a sound halfway between a whine and a moan, trying to jerk away from the overstimulation. “Shhh.. The night has only started and we have so many fantasies of yours to catch up on.” You whimper glad in that moment that it’s not Geto inside of you otherwise he would have felt your walls tighten at his words. It at least gives you the illusion of keeping a shred of something to yourself.

And that's it! I know the actual smut was pretty short but I hope you guys enjoyed it all the same. I considered making it longer but october is a busy writing month. Maybe i'll expand on this more later. (I do have a yan geto series being planned so perhaps then?)

I feel like when i write Geto as yandere he's softly sadistic? If that makes sense.

Special thanks to @strawberrystepmom for beta reading this for me!

tags: @biscuitsngravie @missphanosaur18 @icy-spicy @missmugiwara (Do you like Suguru? I know I've infected you with Gojo love.) @crysugu (we're moots over on my main blog and i thought you might like this)

#suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #yandere geto #gn!reader #afab!reader #jjk x reader #rossi writes #fright night bash 2023 #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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