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fic-over-cannon · 4 months

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a little something to celebrate 100 followers (and finishing my finals!)

Jason’s thigh shifts under your cheek. The fabric of his jeans is warmed by your combined body heat, worn soft in the way a best loved pair always is. It’s been a long day, a long week actually, but its over now. You’ve made it through though and there’s nothing but a glorious evening free ahead of you now. You’re lying on your side, eyes closed, head pillowed by Jason’s delicious thighs. He was sitting on the couch when you came home, thighs splayed wide open and absorbed in a book. He’d looked so comfy sitting there, it was all you could do to control your descent onto the couch. You’d flopped down, boneless the instant your body made contact with his. Jason’s thighs were just as comfortable as they looked, warm and firm with just the right amount of give. He looks down at you, fond.

“You gettin’ comfy down there sweetheart?” It’s wry, and probably accompanied by a smile, if you could be bothered to look up and open your eyes to see it.

“Mmmhmmm.”

You nuzzle your face further into his thigh, let the smell of detergent and Jason wash away the day. He reaches for something over you, pulls down a soft fleece blanket to cover you with. He drapes it over you, let’s you adjust it the way you like it. He pets over your hair once, twice, then buries his hand it to cradle your skull. There’s a rustle of pages and you know he’s gone back to his book.

You drift there, warm and comforted by Jason’s steady presence. There’s nothing but the sound of your combined breathing punctuated by the occasional turn of a page. You’re not sure how long you stay there, but by the time you open your eyes again the quality of the light has changed. The living room is only lit by the low warm light of several lamps, the sun completely gone down. For the past few minutes Jason’s gone back to petting your hair, finished with his book.

“You back with me yet?”

Instead of answering, you try and bury your face even further into his leg. His thigh just so firm and biteable that you give into the urge and gently clamp down.

“Hey! Okay, we’re both getting up now. You can either wait here on the couch or sit in the kitchen with me but I need to start making dinner.”

He tries to shake you free but you’re not ready yet. It’s not until he bends over to kiss you on the temple that you magnanimously let him go. Turn up to look at him appraisingly.

“Kitchen but I get to be your taste tester and I get to bring the blanket.”

He laughs then, bright and loud. Sweeps you up, blanket and all, and bridal carries you to the kitchen. Sets you down on one of the bar chairs across the counter so you can watch him, and then starts to pull out pans. Gets the black tea and spice chest out of the cupboard and starts digging for the mortar and pestle under the kitchen sink. Chops and peels a ginger root, adds it to the pot with the tea and spices before covering it all with water to boil. He cleans up as he goes, pulling out the ingredients for pasta as the water boils. You rest your head in your hands to watch him work. A few spoonfuls of sugar and a cup of milk go into the pot now. His hands are steady and mesmerizing as they use a ladle to aerate the boiling milk. The kitchen smells amazing, warmed spices and tea filling the air. A steaming mug appears in front of you, as if by magic.

“New spice blend. Let me know what you think.”

Jason winks before spinning back to the stove.The chai is rich and sweet on your tongue, warming you up from the inside out. It’s probably your favourite version yet, but then you say that about every new iteration he lets you try out.

Jason’s multitasking in a way your tired brain can’t quite catch up to. Pasta’s boiling in one pot, chicken seasoned and shallow frying in a pan, and his knife’s flying to dice garlic and cherry tomatoes. He darts forward with a bit of chicken on a fork, gets you to blow on it before carefully putting it between your teeth. It’s plump and juicy, fat adding salt and the basic seasoning doing the rest to make it delicious.

“It’s good. Taste tester approved. The chai and the chicken.”

“Glad to know my cooking meets your high standards.”

He grins like quick silver, hands never stopping their motions. There’s a pesto sauce cooking off with the chicken and its fat, garlic frying up with it. A dash of cream and the colour goes a soft green. The chai’s almost gone now, a satisfying weight in your belly that only makes you hungrier. There’s pasta on another fork waving in front of your face. Annoyed, you snap it up with your teeth.

“It’s cooked.”

A cloud of steam and the pasta’s drained, tossed into the chicken and sauce. Two bowls appear on the counter filled with chicken and pasta, topped with cherry tomatoes and grated Parmesan. You’re not even sure when he had time to grate cheese. It looks so good, your mouth is already watering.

You’re warm and relaxed, still bundled in a blanket, the dregs of chai still in the mug wrapped in your hands. There’s food on the table, good food made with care. There’s a beautiful man leaning across the counter from you, in the apartment that you’ve made a home together. It’s been a long day, but you’re home with the man you love and none of that matters anymore.

#thank you everyone!#here’s something a little self indulgent to celebrate #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #red hood x you #red hood x reader #jason todd fic #tooth rotting fluff #snack fic #sunnie writes 🌻

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thepersonnamedsam · 5 months

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she got this - op81

pairing: oscar piastri x academic!girlfriend

summary: oscar visits his girlfriends bachelor thesis defending

word count: 1.3k

face claim: phoebe bridgers

warnings: a swear word, some angst - mentions of a panic attack

note: this is for my baby @lissyontour, you got this, pls wish her good luck for today <3

oh and it’s my first oscar fic, hihi, enjoy it

and there is some of the bachelor thesis… i had to include some of it, thanks to chat gpt

masterlist / taglist

Fuck, was she nervous. Her head was spinning and her legs were jelly - no, scratch that - her legs were liquid.

Her eyes were trying to focus on something, just something that would help her back to reality. She knew she was somewhere else right now, somewhere where she shouldn’t be.

Why wasn’t Oscar with her? Why was she alone? This was not how she planned it!

Her heart was beating, she felt it nearly pop out of her chest. It almost hurt. Oscar should’ve been here with her, but a last minute meeting with Zak just threw her plans overboard.

Her breath quickend and her hands searched for the only safe thing she could think of, her phone. Her fingers quickly glided over the screen and Oscars answer made her hold her breath for a second.

Standing in front of the auditorium, the heavy red doors made her uneasy. It’s gonna be time soon.

Oscar had to hold himself back not to text her that he was actually sitting in the front row and waiting for her to enter the room. He knew it was cruel. But he just had to do it.

He was so much more nervous than her. He watched her write that bachelor thesis for over six months now. At every race she was sitting in his drivers room with at least ten books and her laptop. Only just for the last five laps she came out of the room to watch him race.

He appreciated her coming, she could’ve just stayed at home and studied, but she always came with. Multitasking her way through her studies. And he was so proud of her. There was no way he would miss her final step of the way.

And he knew his cruelty was all worth it, as she stepped into the room and her eyes spotted his. Her whole face lit up and he could almost spot some tears of relief.

„What are you doing here?“, she mouthed. A small smile on her lips. „Supporting you“, he mouthed back, matching her smile.

„Welcome Ms y/l/n!“, her professor welcomed her. „I am exited to hear you defend your bachelor thesis about; How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“

She smiled at her favourite teacher and took out her thesis. She closed her eyes for a second, breathed in and out again. She was ready. Oscar knew she studied English literature and oh did that make her sexy.

But he had no idea of Greek Mythology or modern literature by any means. Yes, he read her thesis at least twice, but did his brain understand anything she meant? It did not. Being the smart one was all her job.

„Welcome Professor McAllister, dear colleagues, guests and friends. I hereby welcome you dearly to my defending of my bachelor thesis: How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“

Oscar listened intently and always smiled when she looked at him for reassurance. His heart was swelling with proudness. He soon had a girlfriend with a bachelor degree.

„In the vast tapestry of literary evolution, Greek mythology stands as an enduring thread, weaving its timeless narratives into the very fabric of modern literature. As contemporary authors navigate the labyrinth of inspiration, they find themselves entwined with the rich tapestry of gods, heroes, and mythical creatures that originated in ancient Greece.

The resurgence of interest in Greek mythology can be traced to its profound impact on archetypal storytelling. From the lofty heights of Mount Olympus to the depths of the Underworld, these tales resonate with universal themes that transcend temporal and cultural boundaries. Authors draw from the exploits of Zeus, the sagas of heroes like Achilles, and the tragedies of figures like Oedipus to explore complex facets of human nature. The gods' capriciousness mirrors the unpredictable forces that shape our destinies, while the struggles of mortals against divine intervention echo the perennial human quest for agency in the face of cosmic uncertainty.

Prominent literary figures, from James Joyce to J.K. Rowling, have paid homage to Greek mythology, infusing their works with echoes of ancient narratives. The hero's journey, a concept rooted in the mythic structure of heroes like Perseus and Hercules, serves as a narrative template for protagonists in contemporary novels. These echoes are not mere nostalgic nods; they represent a perennial dialogue between past and present, a dialogue in which timeless themes find new expression.

Moreover, the enduring allure of Greek mythology lies in its malleability. Authors wield the myths as allegorical tools to explore issues ranging from power dynamics and hubris to the nuances of morality. The Hydra of Lerna becomes a metaphor for societal challenges that sprout anew when seemingly eradicated, and the labyrinthine trials of Theseus mirror the complexities of modern ethical dilemmas.

In essence, the enduring influence of Greek mythology on modern literature is a testament to the universality of its themes and the perennial resonance of its characters. As authors continue to delve into the wellspring of ancient tales, they discover not relics of a bygone era, but rather a living reservoir of inspiration that fuels the imagination of generations, perpetuating the eternal dance between the ancient and the contemporary.“

Her voice angelic as it could be, drew in people who never even heard of the topic. You didn’t have to be interested in Greek Mythology to listen to her thesis, because she delivered her speech that even Oscar understood and left him wanting to know more about it.

My god was he proud. He was in awe, his beautiful girlfriend standing up there, speaking about her passion and delivering it in a way he never thought she could.

Even the look on Professor McAllister made him proud. She looked at his girlfriend with a proud smile, nodding along with her and reassuring her. She was gonna ace this.

Oscar was snapped out of it when the whole auditorium clapped. She was standing with the biggest smile on that stage. Oscar just had to get a picture of her. His new wallpaper.

„Thank you, Ms y/l/n. This was magnificent! We‘ll just discuss real quick and we‘ll be back with your grade. You can be proud of yourself, Ms y/l/n“, Professor McAllister told the young woman on stage.

And as soon as they left the room, she squealed and ran to Oscar. He opened his arms and let the girl spring into his embrace. „Hi“, he whispered. „Hi“, she whispered back. „I thought you weren’t coming?“

He laughed, a real deep belly laugh. „I had to surprise you!“ She hit his shoulder and said: „I hate you, but I’m glad you came.“

„You did so well, my love. I am so proud of you! We have to celebrate afterwards, anything you want.“

The time together was cut short, when the door opened again and the four professors walked in again. „Ms y/l/n, please, have a seat“, her professor said and pointed to the chair sat in front of the four.

She nervously walked over to them and smiled at them. „No need to be nervous, you did well, you can be proud of yourself.“

They talked stuff Oscar didn’t understand. But when he saw a big smile form on her face, he knew she received the best grade she could’ve. Proud, that’s the only word that came to Oscar’s mind.

„I love the boys“, she told Oscar. He smiled up at her and said: „I know you do, but only I can celebrate with you today.“ She giggled and would’ve almost kicked her feet, if it weren’t for the others in the room.

Professor McAllister handed y/n her diploma and told her they’d see each other at official ceremony. After that, Oscar and his girlfriend almost sprinted out of the auditorium.

oscarpiastri

liked by yninsta, landonorris and 82‘729 others

oscarpiastri how did we get from that to this?

view all 22‘219 comments

yninsta the first one is NOT me, idk where you got this from

user1 weren’t we all at that point during our studies?

user2 yes, yes we were

yninsta glad i wasn’t alone…

oscarpiastri so it was you

yninsta oop-

landonorris congrats, y/n! when we gonna get a lecture about greek mythology from you?

yninsta any day you want

landonorris now?

oscarpiastri no, now she’s busy with me

landonorris ewww, my eyes are scarred, don’t ever come back to the mclaren garage

oscarpiastri i didn’t mean it that way

yninsta he did

landonorris you’re just kids

user3 we love an academic wag

user4 so proud of you, y/n!

mclaren congratulations, y/n, next podium is for you 🍾

yninsta thank you, admin

yninsta thank you, baby

oscarpiastri i am so proud of you, darling

loganseargant i cannot believe i have a friend with a bachelors degree…

yninsta better believe it, american boy

user4 do u even know what a bachelors degree is..?

user5 american slander, we love it

alex_albon we are all proud, y/n

user6 we really are

yninsta thank you all so much, i love you guys so much

georgerussel63 oh no, she’s getting sentimental, let’s stop here guys

°°°

@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x female reader #lando norris #logan sargeant #alex albon #george russel #oscar piastri instagram au #yuki tsunoda

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 26 days

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Vaggie: “Babe, you have an amazing brain, love everything going on in there-”

Charlie: “Thank you!”

Vaggie: “-but we need a LITTLE bit of organization or we’re NEVER gonna remember what great ideas you had five minutes ago.”

Charlie: “Wait, what great idea did I have five minutes ago???”

Vaggie: “I don’t know. You scribbled it on a napkin and there’s like, five hundred of those scattered around our room.”

Charlie: “Aw shoot.”

Vaggie: “Some of them are folded in the shape of swans?"

Charlie: "Nnnoooo I've been trying so hard not to DO that so much!!!"

Vaggie: "It’s, pretty impressive honestly.”

Charlie: (huffs) “Okay. Fine. Maaaybe you’re right. Maybe I might have a slight, uh, organizing thoughts problem.”

Vaggie: “No worries sweetie, I have a solution.”

Vaggie: (dramatically steps aside) “BAM!”

Charlie: “OH OH VAGGIE! YOU GOT ME METAL BOXES~!”

Vaggie: “They’re filing cabinets.”

Charlie: “OHHHHH!!!”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “How… how do we activate the filing cabinets?”

Vaggie: “You put your ideas in folders, label the tabs on the folders, put them in a drawer, and label each drawer. Then when you’re looking for something you just open the drawer and-”

Charlie: “Bam?”

Vaggie: “Bam. There it is. The brilliant ideas of Charlie Morningstar.”

Charlie: “As organized by Vaggie, her amazing wonderful super smart and beautiful girlfriend!!!!!”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “I don’t think looking good has anything to do with organizing…”

Charlie: “Hmm, you still are though, miss good looking. Annnnnd it DOES have a lot to do with what I’m thinking about right now.”

Vaggie: “What’re you thinking, Charlie?”

Charlie: (grins)

Vaggie: “…really? Right here, in front of our new cabinets?”

Charlie: “Heheh. I like it when stuff is ‘ours’~”

Vaggie: “Why do I get the feeling the first recorded thoughts of Charlie Morningstar are gonna have to be filed under ‘for our eyes only’.”

Charlie: “Your smirk would have to go there too then. But does this mean it’s a good idea!?”

Vaggie: “Definitely.”

Charlie: “WOO! Kisses kisses kisses-”

Vaggie: “AFTER we’ve cleaned up all these napkins. AND have neatly folded the ones that aren’t already swans.”

Charlie: “Wh- but- but there’s almost five hundred of them!! The kisses-?”

Vaggie: “One kiss per every fifty napkins, how’s that sound?

Charlie: (pouting) “Insufficient kiss ratio.”

Vaggie: “Sorry, but as much as organizing your brain turns me on, the storm of paper in here is kinda a total mood killer. No way I can focus on anything with this mess everywhere. So. Start cleaning.”

Charlie: “I’m starting to think writing on napkins was my worst idea yet…”

Vaggie: “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been paper airplanes again.”

Charlie: “THEN I could’ve just thrown them all out the window! Be free! Fly!!! Shoo! Let me make out with my girlfriend in peace!”

Vaggie: “Ha!”

Charlie: “…. Vaggie. What if we-”

Vaggie: “Charlie no.”

Charlie: “Oh come on! Swans can fly!”

Vaggie: “Not when they’re fancy origami ones that we’ll just have to clean up later anyway.”

Charlie: “Feh. Stupid ideas on stupid napkins.”

Vaggie: “Would one kiss per every two dozen napkins make you feel better?’

Charlie: “Yes.” (deep sigh) “But I’ve only folded ten.”

Vaggie: “Perfect, I’ve done fourteen, so that makes two dozen.”

Charlie: “Wh-”

Vaggie: “Kiss ratio completed.”

Charlie: “It’s based on our combined number???”

Vaggie: “Why not. You like it when stuff is ‘ours’, don’t you.”

Charlie: “….yesthankyouiloveyouonekissplease.”

- a few several many moments later –

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “I’m suddenly getting the idea that… those were way more than one kiss.”

Vaggie: “I don’t care and wasn’t keeping count. File it under ‘Vaggie can’t multitask for shit’.”

Charlie: “Mmm, ehhh. I think we just need a ‘Vaggie has AMAZING focus while kissing, but specifically only on the actual kissing’ folder instead.”

Vaggie: “Are you trying to get me to kiss you again.”

Charlie: “Is it working?”

Vaggie: (shoving napkins in her hands) “Here. Fold.”

Charlie: “I’m filing that under a yes~”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Fold. NOW.”

Charlie: “Hm-hmm-hm-hmmm~” (folding at lightspeed) “My newest great idea is that we should get even MORE filing cabinets.”

Vaggie: “Oh for-”(throws aside napkins) “-fuck’s sake-” (gives up and kisses her again)

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #incorrect quotes #silly headcanons #pry the idea that vaggie introduced her brainstorming girlfriend to the wonderful world of folders and files-#-and color coded sticky notes-#-out of my cold dead hands

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zhongrin · 1 year

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to be yours

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, childe, ayato, thoma, kaeya, wanderer, diluc

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, fluff, collar, nothing explicit is happening but it's very suggestive, diluc is so soggy in this but i’m not sorry

◇ a/n ◇ "but rin didn't you already write something similar to this with zhongli?" sHUT UP. SHUSH. SILENCE. /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

when you called his name so excitedly and said that you had something to show him, he didn’t think he would see you with a collar…. and is that his initials?

… oh.

oh.

zhongli tries so very hard to be a gentleman, but you can feel the urgency, the impatience in the slight bite of his fingers against your skin as he pulls you into a searing kiss. the loud purrs rumbling from his throat a telltale sign that your majestic dragon is exceedingly happy at your little present… maybe a little too happy, judging from the hardness pressing against your thigh...

hmm.

yes, the cor lapis gem on it is a nice touch, indeed.

“ah- apologies, my dear. how ungentlemanly of me… but i simply must express how much adoration i have for you at this present time.”

childe has a silly grin on his lips as he admires the accessory with his fingers. his blue eyes are hooded when he finally meets your gaze and his chapped lips persistently attack yours, an invitation to a heated battle of dominance; one you wouldn’t certainly mind losing, but you know the way you fight against him will turn him on even more.

you suppose you can indulge him... for now.

let’s see how he fares when you bring out his collar with your initials.

“y-you-for me? fuck… o-of course i’ll put it on, baby…. but won’t you help me wear it? please?”

al haitham snorts and folds his arms in front of his delicious treat of a chest, one of his eyebrows cocking up in mock arrogance, a contrast to your sweet demeanor.

he wants you to explain your choice of accessory, he says - nay, demands. and yet not even a minute into your horribly awkward speech, it’s his fingers that hook onto the leather to drag you onto his lap, right on the edge of your shared bed. there’s a certain glint in his eyes, and only then it clicks to you. he’s in that kind of mood today, it seems.

oh dear. you might want to prepare yourself to call in sick tomorrow…

“oh no, continue with your explanation, don’t mind me. i am capable enough to multitask between listening to you and leaving more… direct and indisputable versions of my marks on you.”

ayato has to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t his sleep-deprived brain causing hallucinations after working for nearly thirty-two hours straight.

but when it sinks on him that you’re actually wearing a collar, with the kamisato clan’s sigil and his initials embellished proudly on the high-quality material - just like a loyal puppy waiting for praise from their owner - it’s like he just woke up from the most satisfying power nap he’s ever had his whole life. you find yourself pinned onto his desk seconds later, your master cooing over how adorable you look in your new outfit and how you’ll look even more the part with all your clothes off and stuffed full of his cock.

“what a good pet. my good little pet…”

thoma erupts into a thomato billion shades of reds that complement his outfit.

his brain is short-circuiting. his tongue fumbles like a three years old trying to speak words. his hands are awkwardly hovering in the air as he tries to make sense of everything.

when he finally gets his wits back, he launches into his mother-hen mode. not exactly the result you wanted, but you can work with it. you have your precious boyfriend wrapped around your fingers after all.

“d-does it not hurt? it’s not too tight, right? if it’s hard for you to adjust the length, i can help you to- what?! no, no, you misunderstand- wait, no! i don’t mean that i didn’t want to put it on you, i just- arghh, s-stop teasing me!”

kaeya blinks once, twice, and the third time is accompanied by a sultry smirk spreading over his kissable lips. he chuckles, a deep vibration that sends shivers down your spine as he eyes you like a hungry panther scouting a potential feast.

before you know it he’s had you pinned against the wall of his office, and his fingers are teasingly rubbing your jaw and under your ear, his hot breath mingling with yours as his cologne overwhelmed your senses. a knee slides between your legs and rubs against your clothed crotch, and your lover eagerly swallows your yelp with a deep kiss that speaks volumes about what he plans to do with you.

“ah, perfect. a distraction from work. lord barbatos must have seen me toil over these boring paperwork and took pity on me by giving me such a nice present. all wrapped up so nicely with a name tag to match, too…”

wanderer stares at the initials in disbelief for a full ten seconds before glaring at you. scathing words leave his lips like a fully loaded revolver, but you’re made of the thickest steel and you’re more perceptive than most - well, at least when it comes to your beloved puppet lover - so you can see the indicative ways of his joy: the slight nervous shifts of his legs, the way he’s scratching his arm for grounding himself, and most of all, the way his eyes looked at anything but the said ‘vile object’…

he’s so silly, you think fondly.

guess it’s time to play the ‘which buttons to push to break his act’ game yet again.

“you’re so embarrassing. a fucking collar, really? what are you, some kind of a mutt? and with the initials of that stupid name you gave me? what, you wanna tell the world that you’re my pet or something? hah! why don’t you bark for me then? …. w-wha- s-stop barking, idiot! what is wrong with you?!”

diluc takes a full minute to fully understand. his brain is failing to connect the dots even though he’s literally staring at the accessory.

it’s only when you point out and explain it all to him that his breath hitches. redness as bright as his hair creeps onto his cheeks, and he has to cover the lower half of his face-

wait-

are those tears in his eyes?!

“it’s… nice? i suppose. i know you will look nice in whatever you wear, beloved. your sense of fashion is impeccable in my eyes, and i- hmm? ….. oh…….. OH. i-ahem-i see. i-ah-no! no, these aren’t- they’re just…. i’m sorry, dear- i just.... feel so…. so…. loved…”

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chiscribbs · 7 months

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Updated Future Donnie Concept Art!!!

So, I've been hesitant to try my hand at designing an Apocalyptic Future version of Donnie for a while, for a number of reasons - mainly that I just didn't have a clear idea of him in my brain yet and the thought of attempting to update his already pretty perfect design was highly daunting - but I finally caved and decided to take a crack at it. A couple months and several revisions later, I'm actually genuinely happy with the result. I'd still consider this "concept art" more so than a final design, elements of it could definitely be improved, but I really do like the concept as a whole - I think it could work!

The main goals I had in mind while working on this were: A. Must fit the character/look like something Donnie would canonically wear and still be easily recognizable. B. Must work in the Rise world & style (i.e. not be overly detailed or have too complex a silhouette.) C. Must fit in with the other (canonical) Future Rise designs.

I was also thinking about what problems Donnie might be trying to solve, which is what inspired the belt (more info on that below). All-in-all, although there might still be a few kinks to work out, I think I managed to come up with a pretty solid base design for my favorite Warring Warrior Scientist (Jr.)

Some additional character tidbits under the cut.

Also, I can't draw mechanisms to save my life, so just pretend those vague ninpo-gun-things make sense lol

Donnie has a mechanical prosthetic leg. How'd he lose that leg? Up to interpretation - my working theory is that it was a minefield accident that occurred when he was trying to blow some Krang dogs to Timbuktu. Naturally, since it's Donnie and they are in the midst of an alien apocalypse, he designed the leg to do a whole lot more than just help him stand without falling down. It's a multifunctional tool that contains a plethora of secret uses - including, but certainly not limited to, sawing off ugly Krang faces. It's essentially his new tech bo.

Bonus leg tidbit: Casey Jr. saw him deploy the saw blade in battle once when he was little, he then proceeded to beg for a saw-leg of his own to fight the Krang with. Donnie, realizing that amputating a perfectly healthy child's leg is probably not that most morally acceptable option, instead made him his own "sawing stick"(AKA, his motorized hockey stick)...which the others then made him wait until Casey's 10th birthday to give him.

The belt that Donnie's wearing here is a prototype of his latest invention. Its intended purpose: to deflect the Krang's mystic-blocking attacks, allowing them to use their ninpo in close combat. It took a lot of risk-taking to collect the necessary information to create such a device, and he experienced a number of way-too-close calls (one of which may or may not have resulted in that large gash across his plastron), but he finally managed to crack the code and pinpoint the frequency of the Krang's sound waves. He's testing it out right now to make sure that it works and is safe to use, but once it's out of beta, he plans to mass-produce them for every mystic-wielder in the Resistance to use in battle. He believes it could turn the tides of the war...unfortunately, the device never makes it out of beta, as he dies before its completion.

Donnie's gloves are fashioned after the ones his dad used to wear in his Lou Jitsu days (with some modifications, for comfort and to make working with screens a little easier and less annoying.) The material they're made out of is far more durable, of course, since he's working with them near-constantly and under varying conditions. But maybe he designed them to look like this as a way of keeping his dad's memory close, similar to Leo's sword hilt?

Ironically, Donnie uses his ninpo probably the most consistently out of all the brothers (even though Mikey uses his to the greatest extent, hence his rapid aging). He's constantly using it to check on the base's security status and multitask while working on other projects. Because his ninpo takes a good deal of brain power to operate, it puts a significant amount of strain on his nervous system and this causes frequent complications. Seizures, spasms, and blackouts become a semi-regular occurrence - especially in the latter part of his life. Donnie does his best to manage them, but the workload makes it almost impossible to do so properly. Mikey is able to help with these attacks when they happen, but Donnie - not wanting his brother to overuse his powers any more than he is already - usually opts to just ride it out and save the mystic healing for people who need it. The exception to this rule being when he's in the middle of an extremely important procedure and can't stop long enough to let the attack pass naturally, then he has no choice but to accept Mikey's aid.

This is probably needless to say at this point, but much like Leo and his other brothers, he is a giant. Equal in height to Leo (if not slightly taller, even without the goggles.) The doodle in the top-left corner of the sketch page where he's next to April is meant to be them sitting, so don't take it as anywhere near an accurate representation of their height comparison. It is not, he dwarfs her by several feet, lol.

#rottmnt #donatello hamato #rottmnt donnie #rise donnie #future donnie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt future timeline #tw: amputation #Sort of. You don't see anything but if half a leg freaks you out best not to look.#fanart #concept art #character design #chiscribbs #Heavily referenced Krang because Idk how to draw them yet WOOTWOOT

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nokaslitz · 3 months

Text

homework - bill kaulitz x reader

tw: thigh riding, smut(?), sub bill, use of y/n

i've been sitting on the office chair at my desk, the small lamp lighting up the paper i've been working on. my bottom lip finds it's way in between my teeth as i try to figure out these annoyingly hard questions.

i let out a gruff sigh, wanting nothing more than to tear this paper into a million little pieces. i've never liked math. my brows furrow as i think of the answer to the next equation.

my angered thoughts are cut off by my hair being moved off of my shoulders, being gently rested on my back. in a blur of annoyance i almost forgot about my boyfriends presence. i stay silent, a long breath leaving my nostrils at his touch.

as i focus on the paper i feel his hand running down my head, petting my hair. "baby..?" his whisper sending a light shiver down my neck. "not now bill." i tell him, pushing away his hands from my locks.

he begins slowly stepping his way in front of me, his hand resting on my shoulder. "please, schatz.." he quietly begs.

"what did i just say? hm?" i scold, looking up at him. my heart beats a little faster at the sight of his face, though my expression doesn't falter. the way his eyebrows are knitted together, his bottom lip being gently bitten by his own teeth gives him an almost orgasmic look.

"mmm.." he lets out a desperate hum, rubbing my shoulders. his face curves into one of faux-sadness, trying to earn pity.

i shake my head as my eyes drift back down to the important paper. as i seemingly ignore his presence, he only becomes whinier, pressing his clothed erection against the arm rest of the chair.

i place my arm there, not allowing him any pleasure. he lets out a whine, crossing his arms over his chest. my eyes roll at my boyfriends needy, childish behavior.

flipping the paper after i'd finished the front half, i scan the questions, already hating it. being too focused on my work, i hadn't noticed my boyfriend stripping down to his boxers.

my attention is drawn to him when he forces himself onto my lap, his knees resting on either side of my left thigh. my arm instinctively wraps around his slutty waist, not wanting him to lose balance and fall.

he leans down and presses his face against my neck, breathing in my scent deeply. i sigh, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment when his plush lips make context with my neck. they unlatch with a satisfying noise.

my left hand grips his waist, my right hand gripping the pencil as i continue to work. this is what multitasking is, right?

i stay silent as we both get to work. his breath hitches against my ear as he presses his bulging boxers against my soft thigh. his hips move back, slowly fronting again.

he lets out a quiet, drawn-out moan into my shoulder as his hips roll against my skin. though the only thing i'm focusing on is my work, my hand absentmindedly rubs his back soothingly.

his little kisses and nibbles continue along my neck, his throbbing cock pressing deep into my thigh even with its restraints. bill whimpers into my ear, his neatly painted fingernails digging into the skin of my arms.

"mmph..." he moans as his mouth falls agape, his back arching sensually. my eyes don't drift from the paper, even when he moans my name. "oh, y/n.. oh, ja.."

he presses his dick so roughly against my thigh i can almost feel every little vein. his head falls back as he rocks his hips, his grip tightening.

i hold him closer, my arm guiding his hips up and down, front and back. he whines, his sensitive cock twitching underneath the cage-like fabric.

he only rides my thigh harder, urgently pressing his member into my upper leg. he mindlessly humps me like a brain dead dog, release being the only thing on his mind.

"oh!" he moans, his body getting closer to the edge of pleasure. ironically, right as i answer the last question of the quiz, he orgasms.

his cum spurts out of his tip, ever so slightly leaking out of the thin material of his underwear. he moans loudly, his nails digging into my skin as he rides out his high.

after a couple more finishing grinds, he stops moving. he lays limp against my body, our chests together. his head rests on my shoulder, his hair falling over his face. i rub his back, my free hand resting on his thigh.

"have fun, baby?" i ask him calmly. he faintly nods his head, hugging me lightly. a quiet, breathy chuckle escapes my throat.

"let's go get you cleaned up."

this kind of sucks but wtv!!

#2000s #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #fanfic #bill kaulitz smut

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starryeyedjanai · 9 months

Text

one hand gripping the wheel

steddie pwp | explicit | 2k

read on AO3

Eddie's driving, and he's got one hand on Steve's thigh. It's right after his concert just ended, so Eddie's still pretty hyped up and keeps running his hand up and down Steve's thigh.

Steve has already said something along the lines of, "if you keep that up..." to which Eddie stilled his hand, but kept his fingertips tucked into the warmth of the space between Steve's thighs.

Eddie doesn't even realize that he's started up again until Steve's hand is covering his on his thigh.

He sheepishly opens his mouth to apologize, but the only thing that comes out is a squeak because Steve's moving his hand further up his thigh to cover his half-hard dick.

He glances over, just a quick look down to where his hand is on Steve's cock, separated by just a few layers of clothing. He licks his lips and turns his attention back to the road.

Steve's hand is still covering his, keeping it there, letting him feel how hard he got him just from rubbing his thigh a little.

Eddie feels a little lightheaded about it.

"Steve," he whispers into the silence of the van. He doesn't remember there not being music on in the background. Did one of them turn it off?

"Yeah?" Steve sighs out, almost a moan, putting more pressure on Eddie's hand in his lap.

Eddie wants to look over again so badly, but he has to focus on the road.

"Stevie, you gotta stop. I'm driving," he says, his hand betraying his words, curling his fingers around the shape of Steve in his pants. His left hand is gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"'S'okay. I'll do all the work," Steve says, rolling his hips up into Eddie's hand.

"Oh, that is so not fair," Eddie whines, pressing his hand against him more firmly.

Steve hips jerk up against his hand and he makes the prettiest sound as he uses Eddie's hand to play with himself.

The road is so much less interesting than whatever the hell is happening in the passenger seat, but Eddie can't look over there right now.

Steve makes another noise, high in his throat, and Eddie pulls his hand away.

He says, "Unbutton your goddamn pants."

Steve huffs out a laugh and when Eddie quickly glances over at him, his cheeks are flushed red. This is so not fair. Eddie wants to put his mouth on him.

Steve does it, undoes his belt and undoes his pants, shifts around until he's got them pulled down a little. Eddie can only see him in his periphery - he can't look over there again because he'll crash the fucking van if he does.

"Now what?" Steve asks, looking at him.

Eddie hadn't thought this far ahead. His brain is currently out of order, no thoughts, head empty and buzzing.

He puts his hand back on Steve's thigh, where his jeans are bunched up, where the teeth of his zipper dig into Eddie's hand.

Steve guides his hand to his lap and Eddie groans out loud at the feeling of skin, only skin under his fingertips. His hand is directly on Steve's cock. It's hard and velvety against his palm.

"Did you really go commando to my show?" Eddie asks, letting out a shaky breath.

"Mhm," Steve hums, settling back into the seat, his hand still operating Eddie's, moving it slowly against him.

Eddie says, "Jesus fucking christ," trying not to let all his thoughts be consumed by that one detail.

It's just- Steve's whispered it in his ear before, after a show, that he got hard because of Eddie performing. That seeing Eddie on stage really gets him going.

And the thought of Steve coming to a show with no fucking underwear on, his dick pressed hard into the zipper of his pants as he stood there and watched Eddie perform- that's making Eddie a little insane right now. And it's making his cock twitch in his pants.

He moves to grip him properly and rubs the head with his thumb. His thumb gets wet with the precome that's leaking from the tip. He licks his lips again, his mouth suddenly so dry. He wants to taste him.

He doesn't have the dexterity or the ability to multitask enough to jerk Steve off while he's literally driving, so he says, "Thought you were gonna do all the work."

Steve wraps his fist around Eddie's and moves it for him, starting up a languid rhythm, nice and slow. "I did say that," Steve says and Eddie doesn't have to look over to know he's grinning.

They're only a couple minutes away from home. Eddie can do this. He can get them home in one piece while his fist is wrapped around Steve's dripping cock.

He stops at a stop sign and gives into the urge to look over at him. Sees Steve looking right back at him, a devilish smile on his face.

He tightens his grip, just shy of too tight, just a little mean, to see that smile melt away as Steve moans for him. He jerks him fast and rough, the air filling with Steve's groans and the smell of sex.

A car honking behind them pulls Eddie out of the moment, reminding him where they are. He steps on the gas and lets Steve take over the pace of his hand on him again.

Steve keeps his hand around Eddie's the whole rest of the way home, moving it for him, stroking himself with Eddie's hand, filling the car with his moans and his soft, whiny exhales.

Eddie's entire body is tingling and he's breathing heavy like he's the one getting touched right now. The air in the car is muggy and hot and he's sweating even though he has the air on.

Eddie pulls into the parking garage of their apartment building, thanking the universe, god, whoever, that the light near his parking spot is still out.

He can't even turn the car off with his hand on Steve's dick, but he reaches over with his left hand to put it in park before turning his full attention on Steve.

He pulls his hand back and spits into his palm, the sound loud in the sudden quiet of the car.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he says, returning his spit-wet hand to his cock.

"Just for you," Steve says, a smile dancing on his lips before his mouth falls open around a silent moan, just the air sharply escaping his lungs as Eddie digs his thumb into the slit of his dick.

With his head tilted back and resting against the headrest, mouth open in a whine, Eddie thinks he's never looked better.

He's wearing one of Eddie's shirts, pulled tight across his chest and Eddie wants to put his mouth all over him, set his teeth in him and bite until he bruises. He wants to pin him to the fucking ground and rut against him while he leaves teeth marks indented in his skin. He wants to lean down now and take him in his mouth, wants to gag on him until Steve loses control and fucks up into his mouth over and over until he comes.

He's going to do all that. Not- not right now, not all at once. But he gets to do those things now and it's still so insane to him.

With his fist wrapped tight around Steve's cock, pulling desperate sounds from his mouth that Eddie wants to eat, he's still in awe that Steve lets him have this, lets him have him.

He gets to touch him like this, gets to wake up with him in his bed in the apartment they share together. Gets to imagine a future with him, gets to imagine growing old with him.

It's not new, this thing. They've been together for over a year now, have been living together since Eddie's old lease ran out a few months ago. So it's not new. But every fucking moment he gets to have with Steve is precious. Every touch he gets is something he cherishes. And marvels at.

Because who the hell would have thought the two of them could be something real? Who could have thought that the two of them could have something like this? He sure didn't.

But Steve was never unsure about him, it seems. From the moment they kissed, he was all in. Ready to share a life with Eddie in a way that Eddie could never have expected. He never could have expected this, expected him.

But he gets to have this, gets to put his hands all over him because Steve allows it, because Steve wants it.

He gets to spend his life loving him.

And what a fucking time to realize it, that he loves him, when he's got his hand on his cock in the parking garage of their building. When a neighbor who happens to be out this late could potentially walk by and see Eddie's love for him.

Hell of a time for a revelation.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to Steve's flushed, sweaty neck, unable to help himself from showering Steve in his love.

"Eddie," Steve whispers and Eddie leans back to look at him. He bites the corner of his lip, drawing Eddie's attention to his mouth where a smile is starting to form, practically begging Eddie to kiss him.

Eddie dives in for the kill, his mouth landing right on Steve's smile. His left hand comes up to grip Steve's neck as he kisses him. He presses kisses on his lips, pecking him over and over as his hand continues to work Steve's cock.

They should get out of the car and go inside. He should stop touching him so they can get inside.

He doesn't want to.

He wants Steve to make a mess of himself right here, all because Eddie wants him to.

So he ramps up the speed of his hand instead, kissing him harder, tilting his head to slide into the kiss deeper. He fucks his tongue in and out of his mouth like he wants to be fucking him with his cock, like he will be whenever they get inside their apartment.

The sound of his hand working Steve's dick is obscene. The slick, wet sounds are loud with no other sounds in the car. They get even louder when Eddie grinds his palm against the head of Steve's cock to get his hand even wetter than before. The amount of precome that's leaking from the tip is absurd.

Steve is whining into the kiss, tiny sounds escaping the side of his mouth as Eddie licks inside, tongue stroking along Steve's, tasting the beer he had at the venue, tasting him underneath it all.

He pulls back from the kiss with a slick noise and leans his forehead against Steve's, looking down at his cock.

"You gonna come all over yourself for me, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve chokes out. "Yes, yes."

He digs his thumb into the slit of Steve's cock to hear him moan so pretty in his ear before speeding up again. His hand is a blur on Steve's dick, jerking him tight and fast, and it's only another minute before Steve's hips are thrusting up and he's coming all over Eddie's hand, all over Eddie's shirt that he's wearing.

He slows his fist down, but keeps moving, milking the last bits of come from his cock, drawing overstimulated little gasps from Steve's mouth. It's so dark in the car, but Eddie swears he can see the shine of the come on Steve's dick as he gentles his touch.

"Stop," Steve whines after a minute of squirming through the feeling of Eddie's touch being just a little bit too-much-too-soon.

Eddie lets go of him and leans back in his seat, watching Steve try to catch his breath. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licks at the come painting his fingertips, and is treated to another groan falling from Steve's mouth as he looks at him with heat in his eyes.

"That's so unfair," Steve says, reaching down with shaky hands to tuck himself away, his cock still wet with his come. Eddie's gonna bully Steve right into the shower as soon as they get inside.

"Darling, you're the one who started it," Eddie says in a sing-song voice, before pushing his tongue through the vee of his index and middle finger where some of Steve's come has gathered.

Steve huffs out a breath. "You're a lying liar. You were the one stroking my thigh for twenty straight minutes."

"There's nothing straight about that, babe."

Steve looks at him for a beat and then rolls his eyes. "I'm getting out of the car now."

#steddie #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie pwp #eddie munson #steve harrington #janai.doc

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fillinforlater · 3 months

Text

Monday of Appreciation: Part 105

Hello everyone, Smite here!

Okay, it's been a while, I know. It genuinely feels like I'm extremely far behind because there are so, so many stories I want to (back)-read. This is a nice problem to have that I should not be getting stressed over but with my "to-read-list" passing 50 easily, I can't help but feel like I should do another MoA right now...

... so that's what I'm going to do. 10 stories, down below, have fun!

-1-

@okaylikesmomo: Exchange Part 2: Flower ft. Blackpink

These two parts have been insane and never merely okay, so now we have to call you "insanelikesmomo" or something.

-2-

@ggidolsmuts: Shopping ft. Jinsoul

I'm a simple man: I see ddeun story, I save for later, I read one day, [CENSORED], I'm happy :)

-3-

@sinswithpleasure: Girls Love Girls [And Boys] ft. Kep1er Yujin, Mashiro, Xiaoting

Now this is something I wish I had written but also... thank you, Sins, for letting me enjoy this without putting thought (only horny) into it.

-4-

@praeluxius: folie a deux Part 1 ft. Yujin, Wonyoung

The first two parts each had a scene that each MELTED. MY. BRAIN. For Part 1, it was ofc the endless edge, tease and go read it for yourself.

I'm also not gonna spoil Part 2 because I...

-5-

@aliceiwk: Multitasking ft. futa!Karina (F.Reader)

Tell your boss that Karina is fucking ypi and that you are her cocksleeve slut and will rather get creamed by her everyday then work another second. Then hang up.

-6-

@tinyidle: For the Memories ft. Yuqi (F.Reader)

Friends to FWB very underappreciated, we usually start with FWB part lol

-7-

@smuttysabina: "I am" a Bitch ft. Rei

Bitchy Rei that uses you like a toy, when is this going to happen to me??? I love how this is so smuttysabina, lmao

-8-

@existslikepristin: B-Side: [title] ft. JiU, Gahyeon (TW)

A certain type of non-con, dub-con, cnc, however you like to interpret this. I was thrilled, a new ELP smut and I was even more thrilled when it turned out just as excellent as their earlier works!

-9-

@capslocked: Honne, Tatame and the other one ft. Yuna

A Caps fic with Yuna needs no explanation

-10-

@praeluxius: folie a deux Part 2 ft. Wonyoung

... can't wait for Part 3 ;)

That's it for this week (and a couple more probably LOL), I hope y'all have a great time and make 2024 your year!

#kpop smut #female idol smut #mondayofappreciation #girl group smut

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gothic-thoughts · 3 months

Text

Music To My Ears

Gojo Satoru x Black GN Reader Smut

MDNI, Perv Coworker!Gojo, Bimbo!Reader

CW: all the dirty words(he's a whore), stupid and oblivious Reader, Gojo jerking 📴 to your voice, reader being fluent in Yapanese 😭, imma degrade y'all cuz u lack brain cells

Word Count: 1,191 (give or take)

It was 11 pm, and you were on the phone with your coworker, Satoru. You've been talking for about an hour now, but after a while, you noticed soft huffing and heard soft panting. Since there's not much going on up there, all you thought to do was tilt your head to the side with confusion. You shrug it off and continue to yap, but the longer he listened, the more he groped and palmed his erection through the grey sweats he wore.

“Uh, Gojo?” Your first mistake was saying his name.

“Yeah? What’s up, girlie?”

“You good?"

"Say again?" He heard you perfectly fine, but you can't tell can you?

"I asked if you were good. You workin' out right now?"

“Hah, yeah.” He responds before muttering, “I'm workin' somethin', ngh."

“Huh? You keep mumbling, Toru.”

"Hehe, don't worry about it." More panting "Just...continue your story."

You shake your head, believing his panting really came from a workout regimen, knowing damn well the strongest sorcerer don't need one.

“So like I was saying...”

He chuckled and made a low growling noise as he reached into his sweatpants, feeling how damp his boxers were from how much precum soaked into them. He bit his lip, slowly pulling out the erection that you caused from that voice you blessed him with. Every inflection, filler word, and gasp when you remembered another part of your story drove him so wild.

“And then I was like, ‘Ohmygod, Shoko’s not working for once?’ So I ran up to her...”

He grunts, trying his best to keep his voice away from the whiney territory he knew it could rise to if he felt too good. To you, his breathing sounded a bit...off, as if it sounded heavy and...well, different than normal. But he was working out, of course, he’d sound like that.

“The only reason I hesitated was because I feel like she don’t like me...”

With every passing moment, his fist passed over his shaft while his left hand kept a firm hold around his base, keeping him from exploding too soon, and with how often you clicked your tongue or sucked your teeth, he could’ve at any moment.

“Do you think she likes me; ion think she likes me. Anyways, though...”

The grunting sound only grew in pitch as the groans started to sound more...animalistic, mouth forming a smirk. He whispers your name, guiding his hand up and down his cock a little faster, getting the palm sticky with precum.

“Toru...” The concern in your voice makes his hand stop, “You sure you okay?

He bites his lip as he moans softly, watching another drop of precum squeeze out his tip and slide down to his still fist. "Yeah... heh...”

“You huffin’ like a dog.”

“Oh sorry. I’m doing... I’m doin’ some push-ups right now so..."

"Ohhhh, aight."

"Keep talking, short stuff."

"You even listening, Gojo?"

"Of course I am, I can, ngh, multitask."

"Mmm..."

The little hum of yours made him bite his bottom lip so hard that it bled. "I mean it, girlie." He sighs, "Hanging on every word. You were talking about your shopping spree."

"Oh yeah! I got a bunch of clothes with Utahime today! And they are the fuckin’ cutest! Like, there’s one that was...”

He groaned quieter as he heard you continue on, pumping his hand up and down to the speed your excited voice spoke. His fist twists with each stroke, grinding his red, sensitive cockhead into his palm which makes him shiver. The sound of his breathing had become noticeably heavier and deeper. He didn't respond just yet, instead, he only let out low grunts and 'mhm's in response to what he heard you say. He started to lift his hips from his bed, fucking his fist while pretending it was him making you ride him.

“And I got new lip gloss. Like a lot of lip gloss; cuz you know me...”

He did, in fact, know you; meaning that you prolly got almost every color, scent, and flavor imaginable just to try out. That sentence was all it took for the strongest sorcerer's mind to switch from thoughts of how good you'd feel bouncing on his long dick to how soft and wet your mouth was. You talk so much so it's gotta be moisturized as hell, not like he wouldn't make you use so much spit it made the colors on your lips smear around his veined shaft.

He whined into the speaker as you rambled, but TRUST he was listening. His eyes were rolled back, his hand began pumping faster, massaging the swollen head of his cock while his free hand gripped the base. He wanted to smear that lip gloss, stick, whatever so bad; just the thought of leaving your plump lips and chin stained with white and whatever other color made his full balls tense.

"H-hey, short stuff? You think you can you count down from 10 for me?"

"Yeah, why?"

"For my workout, remember?"

"Ohhh, right." You let out another oblivious giggle, "I forgot about that."

"Y-yeah, I'm, uhm, planking... and I'm al-most....done. Count for me."

"Kaykay. Ten.... nine..."

His hand slows down, trying to time his orgasm with that sexy voice. Gojo groaned and grunted, letting it all out since your dopey ass wholeheartedly believed he was tired from overexertion.

"Eight... seven..."

"Yesss~" He whispered, "Suck it, baby girl, that's it. Show me those eyes."

His breath got shallow as he looked down at his thighs, imagining you were scratching at them while your glazed-over eyes blinked up at him.

"Six... five..."

"Yeah, not a fuckin' thought behind them, huh? F-uck, lemme give your mouth somethin' else to do."

Unable to help himself, he speeds up his hand, coating his entire dick in his own precum. His back arches from the bed as his hips thrust up, fucking his fist as you got close to one.

"Four.... three..."

"So fucking close, s'fuckin' close. I'm...gonna...cum. W-wanna cum in your mouth, baby please."

"Two... one."

"Ah, shiiit!!"

He let a resounding, drawn-out growl as pent-up cum spurts from his cock, shooting across his slim fingers. He continued driving his shaft through his fist, body shaking on his bed as his load continued to spill over his hand. He finally calms down, resting on his bed, and looking down at the cum all over his abs and lower stomach, clinging to his happy trail and pubes.

"Damn," Your voice snaps him out of it, "Did you hurt yourself, Toru? That sounded painful?"

"N-no, I'm okay just...." He gulps thickly, collecting himself, "J-just planked longer than I could handle, heh."

"Was that okay? Did I count too fast or...?"

"Haah, no. It was perfect, girlie, th-thanks."

"Oh... uhh..." You tilt that empty head of yours, "What was I saying...?"

"You were talkin' 'bout... gettin' some clothes from Utahime... I think?"

"Oh, yeah! Then I was talkin' bout lip gloss!"

"Yeah, yeah." His cock slowly starts to harden again, putting a tired, yet devious smirk on his face, "Tell me what colors you got."

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(a/n): eat up.

#black writers #black reader #x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #black bimbo

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maximumkillshot · 3 months

Text

Home

Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming.

A/N: Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself.

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail.

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.”

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often…

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless…

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.”

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster.

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that.

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection.

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.”

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are.

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…”

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do.

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink.

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke.

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide.

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air…

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.”

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.”

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again.

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you.

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload.

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear.

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.”

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again.

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends.

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell.

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you.

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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