#and you Will want to be careful with your water levels.
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mera look what you've done to me.. i've developed a size diff kink... 🫨just a big meanie octo zuzu just feeling greedy around his small or even normal sized s/o. cant breathe the bigger the better
>:) imagine a concept that’s something like being trapped in a tower with the dragon guarding it, only you’re stuck on an island and the water that surrounds it is where the tako guard is!!!! Giant tako who keeps you confined to the island, so you’re never able to truly leave. But why would you want that when he’s keeping you safe, looking after you, taking care of you by hunting dozens of fish for you… surely you’ve noticed his efforts! There’s no need to be afraid.
Azul curling a tentacle around your ankle and lifting you up to his eye level!!!! Maybe you were a royal who was banished to this island and everyone in the kingdom thought you’d be eaten by the monstrous tako. But Azul could never. Not when he loves you so much. <3 perhaps the two of you knew each other in childhood somehow. Maybe you spent some time with him while he was just a little tako in his tank. Back then you were the tall one, but years have passed and he was since transferred to the sea surrounding the island and now you’re the little one when compared to him.
AAAAAA orz orz Azul in mer form is already big, so you’re just going to be naturally smaller when compared to him. You’re the perfect size for being manhandled by all of his tentacles, carried around and cradled so sweetly. Floyd has mentioned that once Azul has you in his hold it’s over, so there’s no point in squirming. You’re never going to escape. And since you’re just a fragile human compared to him, he has to remember to be extra gentle when he’s handling you! :) he could use you as a human onahole, curling a tentacle around your waist and moving you up and down as he fucks into you hehe. But you can only take so much, just the tip and a few inches. He’ll happily get you accustomed to his size. <3
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⊹ ᳝ ࣪ hotch helping to take off your makeup.
cw. bf!aaron, confirmed whiney!reader, established relationship, fluff, whipped aaron
wc. 622
a/n. just a little small, small snack while the poll finishes up 🫶 resonating a little hard with this one bc i was so sleepy taking off my makeup today. need me a hotchy rn 😞
"you've gotta stay still f'me, honey." aaron urged.
"'m tired. let me sleep, please." you whined. resting your head onto aaron's abdomen, and wrapping your arms around his waist. finding comfort in his soft stomach.
"i know, but just let me finish this up. then you can sleep all you'd like." he proposed sweetly. you groaned at his words, and his actions as he holds your face in his hands so you'd look up at him. you instead concentrated on how his thumbs were rubbing you cheeks and the fact that he looked like an angel from the bright bathroom lights and his tall stature. maybe you really were that drunk.
"i don't even care." that was a lie and he knew it.
"you don't? the last time you went out and slept in your makeup you complained, and then went on to blame me for not performing boyfriend duties by taking your makeup off." he explains. giving your forehead one more swipe of the cotton pad drowned in micellar water before throwing it in the trash.
you reluctantly removed your arms from his waist so he could get a facial rag wet, he was going to wash your face for you too.
you feel bad now. and despite the pout displayed on your face he was right, as much as you'd hate to admit, those words were very much yours. looking down at your hands, now in your lap you pick at your fingernails. aaron is being nice by helping you out, and you're being whiney.
"what's going on in that head, hm?"
picking you head head up to look at him, to really take him in. he's in his pj pants and a grey shirt. he was no where near sleeping, but he had stayed up for you to return home, being dropped off by a friend. compared to when aaron had to come pick you up the last time you went out with friends and got drunk, that was fairly early in your relationship and you were thankful he wasn't still in his office or on a case.
"'m sorry." you're sure your pout looks more so looks like a frown now.
“what for?”
“i’m being inconsiderate.”
aaron instantly hangs the damp rag onto the rag bar, moving to stand in front of you.
“and why do you think that?” he questions. eye brows doing his signature hotchner furrow.
“because you’re so nice. and i did say i wanted you to do those things, yet i’m whining about it now.”
“oh, honey.” aaron begins. crouching down so he'd be on your level as he spoke to you, his knees cracking in the process. causing you to bite down on the smile that formed from the noise.
“y’know i don't mind doing any of this, right? and that i enjoy being able to take care of you. in any state that you're in, even when you get whiney.”
his words help reassure you. “yes. but, don't you ever get annoyed when i whine?”
“honey, i could never get annoyed by you. you're also drunk so it makes sense that you're more whinier than normal.”
“hey!” you gasped. hitting at his shoulder, pretending to be offending at aaron’s jab and the fact that he's finding it amusing.”
“okay, okay. not funny, noted.”
there's a moment of calm where the two of you look at each other smiling.
“y’know, i love you?” you question.
“you only tell me it a hundred times a day.” aaron responds with a wide smile. getting up from his spot and in the process giving you a quick peck on the lips.
“i love you more. let's wash your face so i can get you to bed.”
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Eman reached out to me to help share her fundraiser. She is a Palestinian mother of twin girls, Sara and Huda, who are currently residing in southern Gaza and urgently raising money to evacuate to Egypt. Her fundraiser has stopped receiving donations within the past couple of days, and she has only made $220 out of her currently $15,000 goal! Please donate and share, and if you can't donate, please still share!
Eman's Twitter/X account: @emanhajjaj86
From Eman's family's GFM:
To My Dear Friends,
Huda and Sara, twins who are twelve years old, stand together in the middle of Gaza as witnesses to the destruction that our home is enduring as the situation unfolds. Our family of four, including our parents, Abdelhadi and Eman, endures the daily fight for survival, a demonstration of the strength needed after devastation.
Our brand-new haven was leveled to the ground on the night of the battle, destroying all but the remnants of our hopes and dreams. Amidst the mayhem, we find solace in the familiar, a life that was once adorned with the innocent delights of youth.
We have sought refuge in the camps in southern Gaza, but the constant din of bombs here makes us question our own survival. The daily struggle for food, water, and the illusory promise of safety is an interminable one.
We humbly want your assistance, filled with both despair and optimism. Our plea is straightforward: cross borders, seek refuge in safety, and retrace the route to prosperity and education. Egypt stands out like a light of hope, offering a fresh start far from the chaos that has engulfed our life.
With the help of your kind donations, we may begin our journey, giving us a second chance to rebuild and restore the hopes and dreams that the war had taken away. Our family's safe journey, a doorway to a future when peace is more than a wish—it will be a genuine reality—requires a total of $40,000.
Donations of any size are greatly appreciated and represent a powerful show of solidarity that reflects the resilience of the human spirit. Together, we can change our fate. Help us build a story of perseverance that goes beyond the obstacles of war by joining us in this mission to turn despair into hope.
Best regards and best wishes,
Sara, Huda, Abdelhadi, and Eman
youtube
(The Youtube links provided are from the description of the fundraiser page)
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I am very fond of your writing and have a somewhat unique request.
Could you write something with a fem sub werewolf who is really butch and tuff and sort of bratty in her human for a but turns Into a puppy when she well. . . Turns.
I totally get it if this isn't your stile but I thought the power dynamic could be fun.
Regardless be well and drink water. < 3
Thank you for your kind words! It means the world. I hope this is somewhat close to what you expected, I tried my best. It was really fun to write, I love power dynamics and bratty subs (and butch fems, especially the muscular ones).
Fem!Werewolf x Non-gendered human || dom/sub dynamic, power play, spanking
Pack nights were long and tiring, and you hated to show up just to be listening to a bunch of men trying to see who had it longer (metaphorically). But your girlfriend? She loved it. She fitted right in between them, she gained the respect of them all, the bulging muscles, the posture, the way she talked around them.
You couldn’t blame them, you fell for her because of those reasons too. She was just so… big. So muscular. She could lift you with one arm if she wanted, but did she? No, she didn’t. In public she was this big personality that overpowered everyone, but in private? In private she was just bratty. She loved to push your buttons and tease you. And then she transformed and became nothing but a needy little pet for you to play with. Nobody knew, though. Just you.
And today wasn’t different. She started slow, making remarks about the way you made lunch. Making jokes about the way she looked even though she knew you hated when she tried to make fun of herself. Coming home from the gym all sweaty and panting, but denying you when you followed her to the shower, excusing herself because you two had to leave soon. And then she had the audacity to put on that fucking gray sweatpants you loved, how low they fell down her hips, how her abs were framed by the elastic of the pants. You loved those fucking pants. But not in public. The sluttiness of those pants was just for you. And she knew that.
She got away with it, you couldn’t tell her to change if you were going to be on time. And to make it even worse, she winked at you, biting her lower lip as she passed you. That little shit. She knew what she was doing. And she was playing the big leagues at it. Teasing you on a professional level. She was pushing your buttons on purpose. Game on, you thought. You were competitive as fuck, and you weren’t gonna lose against your bratty girlfriend. Not a chance in hell. Before the night ended, she’ll be a needy mess under you.
You sat right beside her at the pack meeting, your lower half hidden under the table. Your hand started innocent enough, grabbing her muscular thigh as someone talked about some trade with other pack you didn’t care about. You could feel the power of her muscles under your hand, and the way she pushed her legs together as you tried to touch the inside of her thigh. You didn’t like that. The anger inside of you growing with each passing second. She was trying to deny you, again.
She wore the fucking sweatpants, she was annoying all day on purpose, and your blood was running hotter than normal. And now she dared to deny you access to her pussy? Oh no, she didn’t. You closed your mouth and waited, your hand never leaving her thigh. Your anger rising slowly as the meeting progressed.
When the two of you exited the building you were fuming, your adrenaline and anger mixing to create a ticking bomb inside of you. You made as far as the car before you were grabbing her short hair and pulling her towards you.
“You know what you were doing teasing me, didn’t you?” She whimpered, nodding shyly as you grabbed her chin with more force than needed. “Strip. Turn. And run.” You ordered, each word followed by a light pull of her hair. She nodded, stripping before you and leaving her clothes on the ground. You picked them up, throwing them inside the car as she ran in her half-turn form. You knew she wouldn’t go far, a chase wasn’t what she was looking for today. She wanted to be punished for her behaviour. She wanted to get pounded into the ground. She wanted to be dominated.
You waited for a bit, knowing full well she’d be panting even before you went after her. The woods surrounding the pack hall were dense, but you knew she would be by the clearing not too long from there. You followed the path, thinking how would be the best way to punish your bratty girlfriend.
You saw her, kneeling in the middle of the clearing, the moon over her like a caress, making her shine.
“Face down. Ass up.” You ordered, not touching her yet. She obeyed instantly, tail waggling behind her involuntary. Cute. You grabbed her tail without any caress, pulling a bit too hard and making her whimper. That fueled you, the game she was playing before long forgotten. She teased and teased, and now it was time for punishment.
“What a bratty slut, teasing me all night, and for what? You want your pussy pounded? You want to take my knot so far you see stars?” She could only whimper as you teased her needy cunt. She was velvety soft and wet, so, so wet. “So wet for me already. Don’t you have any smart remarks now, do you? You pushed all my buttons during the pack meeting, knowing full well what you were doing, weren’t you, pet?” She whimpered again, pushing her ass up to try push your fingers inside. You laughed at her neediness. “All that muscle, all that posturing for everyone to see and you are just a slutty, slutty pet. So ready to take it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to take you right here, in the open. Maybe somebody would see, maybe somebody would know how needy you really are.”
“Is this what you wanted? My hand against you?” Your fingers were circling her clit without any pressure, making her whimper and moan. She was squirming under you, every cell of her body vibrating with desire and pent up frustration.
“Yes, yes! Please!” Desperate groans were escaping her mouth as she tried to get more friction, pushing her ass up into your hand. You laughed again.
“You sound so pretty when you beg.” You took your hand away, caressing her inner thighs where her desire was dripping. You lowered down, lapping at her juices without getting close to where she wanted you the most. Marveling at her whine of protest. She was desperate and needy. But she wasn’t going to get the release she wanted. She spent the whole day proving your patience, and it ran out.
“Pleaseeee.” She begged over and over, her head moving against the grass as she tried to push back into your hand. So hot. You pressed against her clit one more time and then took your hand away from her soaked pussy, making her cry out and whine in two seconds.
She pushed her ass up again. “Oh no, pet. You teased me all day, and now I deserve some payback, don’t you think?” She was looking at you over her shoulder, her mouth open as she panted, her eyes shiny with unshod tears. You wanted those tears, they were yours to collect. “Be still.” You commanded. She whimpered softly. And then your hand made contact with the left cheek of her ass, making the perfect sound. Both of you groaned.
You continued spanking each cheek alternatively, making her squirm. Her ass looked so good marked by your hands, you wish you had your paddle with you, but that could wait. Next time. You kept going, knowing full well she could take it. Your handprint was visible against her cheeks, making you smile as her tears rolled down her face. “So pretty when you cry.” You murmured, she moaned. You keep hitting, massaging her abused ass every once in a while to make her squirm. You teased her core with your fingers, pushing the tip inside as she groaned. With each spank, her back arched and she let out a bunch of curses and swears, begging and pleading you to stop and to keep going. The sounds she was making were the best music you’d ever heard. She sounded wrecked, and you loved it.
And suddenly, her back arched impossibly as her body convulsed. “Did you come just from me spanking you? Oh yes, you did. So needy that you don’t even need my fingers to cum. Such a slutty, slutty pet that can come just from her ass getting spanked.” She flushed all over, trying to hide her mortification. Your tone was mocking as you saw her pussy gaping, all shiny and juicy, puffy after her release. You pushed your fingers inside to watch her try to get away, grabbing her tail back to stop her. You finger fucked the last tremors out of her, laughing as she cried out.
#werewolf#werewolf girl#werewolf x human#monster#monster girl#monster x human#monster imagine#teratophillia#monster girlfriend#monster fucker#requests
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BITES YOU/vpos caaaaannnnnnnnn i ask for laios x overstimed reader?:3 /nf!!!
Laios Touden x GN! Overstimulated Reader
A/N: Okay so in terms of Overstimmed I wasn't sure if you meant in terms of autistic overstimulation or. Well, nsfw. Since I wanted to try writing something a lil smuttier I'll be making another post later today with a little nsfw blurb with this prompt ^^!
Summary: Who knew the dungeons sounds and smells could be so overwhelming?
Laios wasn't used to comforting others in the way you needed when a loud BANG! had gone off nearby leaving you shaking and tearful. When you'd shrunk in on yourself and gone silent, he was...terrified. Had something hurt you? Were you crying? So, he moved carefully infront of you, bending down just a bit to meet your eye level as it was cast downwards.
"Hey, are you alright?" Laios' tone was even and careful, reaching out a hand towards you but hesitating when you shrink back a little. When approaching a monster, if they do similar, it means fear. You must be afraid, he concluded.
Opening his arms wide, instead he offers you to approach when you're ready. As you move into his hold, Laios wraps around you, strong arms applying just a bit of pressure to you.
Laios let's you stay here as long as you need. Sometimes you just need to decompress and his strong hold on you helps you do that.
Laios is very nice to use like a weighted blanket during the evening if you're coming down from being overstimulated. His arms are strong, his thighs are thick. In general, it's like having a hot water bottle for a boyfriend when he curls around you to keep you safe. If you need a tight hug? He can supply, although you may have to tell him to ease off when your bones start aching.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#dungeon meshi laios#delicious in dungeon x reader#dunmeshi laios#laios x reader#laios touden x reader#laios thorden#laios thorden x reader#delicious in dungeon laios#laios delicious in dungeon#laios dungeon meshi x reader#laios dungeon meshi
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hii hii i love your headcanons so i couldn't help but ask how would the brothers react to an mc with a russian accent? The one where the words are soft and slurred, slightly raspy! Bonus points if Mc is the stereotypical "cool" and "mysterious" russian archetype that no one can get a hold of their secrets.
hello! of course :)
enjoy!
Mc with a Russian accent
Lucifer
he thought he had serious secrets
but meeting you made him feel like that was blown out of the water, even though he was easily hundreds of thousands of times your age
he even had a whole file on you yet still he felt like he knew nothing about you
be prepared to be getting to know a very friendly lucifer haha
Mammon
he's taking you to the casino with him, hope you don't mind!
he thinks he looks extra cool with you by his side
who wouldn't want to be around you?
but of course, afterwards, whether he wins or not, he'll take you out to get any food you'd like
Levi
when you first meet, he's immediately reminded of insert x stereotypical character here
he wants to be your friend so bad but of course he'd never tell anyone that, especially not you
but of course once you get to know each other, he might let it slip on accident
he'll request you never look at him again, then invite you over the next day to play a game like nothing happened lol
Satan
ok normally he's the one doing the reading out loud
but more often than not, you find him asking you to do it instead
he always has a new excuse on why it can't be him, like his throat was sore from reading in class earlier that day or he was resting his voice haha
it's up to you if you want to call him out or not, but please do indulge him
Asmo
instantly, he's basically asking you to marry him
don't be afraid to say no please lol
he's constantly asking you questions just to hear you answer them, even if you've said that particular thing already or if it's something he for sure already knows
the longer the answer, the better to him. the more time with you, the better of course!
Beel
if you don't know him well, he's a man of few words
most people are even scared of him, so he too is seen as "mysterious"
the two of you would be besties because you just understand each other on this level
if people would just take the chance to know you, they would know you're both sweeties and really care about those around them
Belphie
he won't lie, when he first met you at the top of that staircase, he was surprised by your accent
but, of course, you still worked for his plan and that went through as normal
afterwards, he understands if you never want to speak to him again
but, he'll never forget that fateful day where you first spoke and how he grew to fall in love with you and your voice
#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me belphie#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#obey me leviathan#obey me belphegor#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus#obey me mc
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The Strange Case of Amity Park
So, the facts are these:
On April 12th, 2004, Annabelle Louise Robb goes missing during morning recess at Saleham Elementary, Illinois.
“No one realized until we were taking registration after recess, and she wasn't, just wasn't there. We were all calling for her, all over the playground- the panic, the panic actually didn't set in for a while.”
It's her tenth birthday.
Seven weeks later, another young child disappears from their bedroom, just a half-mile away from Saleham Elementary. Their name is not a matter of public record.
“We all of us in the town immediately knew something was up, that this wasn't no coincidence, cos things had been happenin’ for a while, things that made no goddamn sense. We'd been paying attention see, and this whole thing didn't start with the Robb girl, though outta-towners’d been calling us crazy.”
“Actually the curfews and all that, the paranoia, that started after little J- ahem, after the second kid. The cops needed three for a pattern, but not us.”
...
Over the next three years, a further twelve children vanish from the small town of Amity Park, Illinois, all under mysterious circumstances. No suspicious figures spotted, no signs of a struggle or forced entry, and no connection between the victims - other than that none was over seventeen.
“It was misery. Pure misery. We couldn't do anything to, to protect them. They were taken from locked rooms, from crowds, anywhere. Anyone's eyes left for a second’n they'd be gone. I barely slept those years. The whole town got sick from stress.”
Listeners might label this a classic case of serial murder or kidnapping, and officially, that's what it is - an unsolved case, of an unidentified subject taking kids.
But the official account fails to tell you the complete story.
“Amity Sheriff's Office does not provide comment on cold cases, now for the last time, please simply consult the official contemporary paperwork housed in the county library. Good day.”
“You have reached the answerphone of Amity Park Public Library. Please leave your message after the tone. You have reached the a̷͓͝n̷̪̣̾́s̸̗̎w̷̧͇̍ẹ̵̄͆͜r̶̨̬̊͝ṕ̴̢̝̓ẖ̵͛o̵͍͂͠n̸̫̍̓ĕ̵̫ of Amity Park Pu̴̮͚͝b̴̙͚̋lic Library. Please leave.”
…
Here's another fact - of the fourteen taken children, nine were found, all alive. Some within days, some over a year later. Or, as locals put it, Returned. Capital ‘R’.
None of these children could, or would, talk about what had happened to them or where they'd been. Most didn't remember.
“I ain't giving you their names because they're sealed. You want a story, talk about the dead kids, their names are a matter of record.”
“Don't look for the Returned. Stay away from Them, trust me, and stay outta town too while you're at it. Now are ya gonna pay fer that or no?”
There are other facts, too, that aren't published with the lists of unfound children and redacted names.
Power outages. Outbreaks of violence. Unprecedented levels of crop disease; print and online media rolling to a total halt; a water contamination scandal. A vast and unspecific incident at local employer Axiom Labs, which left thirty dead, and families without answers.
“Sorry hon, the Axiom Thirty weren't, aren't buried here. We didn't really do burials during that time, as a town. You'd understand if you knew.”
…
On the night of August 24th, 2007, the last child vanishes from Amity Park. Daniel James Fenton, age seventeen, says goodnight to his family, and isn't in bed the next morning.
He remains missing to this day, and is presumed dead.
What exactly happened to this sleepy Midwestern town in the mid-noughts? Why has such a dramatic, tragic case been so withheld from the American consciousness? And what can we learn from the way the town responded to this trauma: its unnerving slip into superstition, ritual, and secrecy?
“What, you never seen blood blossoms before? I don't care if you got an allergy, you either sniff the flowers or you stay outside. And besides, ain't you [redacted]’s cousin? Did he not explain all this already? Look, jus’- wait, are you recording me?”
…
Welcome, to The Strange Case of Amity Park.
#danny phantom#dp#dp fanfic#fanfiction#my fanfiction#podcast fic#cw mild horror#cw kidnapping#may not have the energy to ever write this sprawling au but i can sure write a snippet that lacks any context
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Stygian pisses me off. Along people like her who say wishy washy stuff like "at most he probably thought she attractive he not blind, probably has fleeting feelings but those are bland compared to his feelings for tifa" where? Where are those?! Some talk about bro code but even before the whole Zack thing, he's already so mean in costa del sol. He's already Disgusted at the idea of a "couple gondola event". He's already mean in Remake even after that Cursed resolution. In fact it was after the whole Zack bit that he started trying to be kinder and more tolerating. It's No bro code, that concept was Never a thing he thought of. Do you know what he thought of? He DIDN'T think "oh zack gf, i should back away" , rather it was "oh zack gf, I should be more kinder because everything Zack cares about I care about as well". I bet he was super guilty and saddened about not remembering Zack and not telling his parents what's up. He Loves Zack third to Tifa and Claudia. aerith isn't even close enough to the list, heck he was more cool with barret and yuffie. He hit it off with yuffie so easily and they just met!, she can even understand his perverted tendencies about Tifa. Something not all of them see. Actually it might just be her who knows lol.
Anyway, these Statements Don't hold up and will contradict because it's Not canon. I just don't understand how they see these things that Never existed? Did they play the game? Did we play the same game? I don't understand why even entertain this? Do they Not understand the material given to them? Why are they even here? There is so much about FF7, and "ltd" Doesn't even exist. It's all in their head that Only loves to argue but stray away from canon and factual evidences.
Every time i hear them talk about him and his pov about aerith, it just makes me get turned off of him and want to Never support ct. Heck, I'd be the #1 to fight against it. I'm starting to wonder if they even like tifa, cloud or even this IP. Nojima didn't write him this way for them to downgrade and water down his character and his story and feelings about tifa.
This guy NEVER wavered. And while I think aerith was only saying what she said in her resolution as a sign she Never understood him at all (creepy date was Very Clear he Doesn't see Nor will ever see her that way, yet she missed this lol) and was indeed only talking to herself. All these so called "attraction/ fleeting feelings" some think AREN'T REAL, IT'S NEVER THERE. It's all in your imagination and you have to ask if they even enjoy FF7, tifa, cloud and ct to begin with. Or do they wanna hop onto c /a's train that if zack and tifa didn't exist this that wtvr despite Nojima writing about how these characters are Totally Incompatible in ALL levels.
Srry for the rant. I'm just so Sick of this wishy washy attitude. I think FF7 fans are so lucky to have so much material to fight against these but some ignore them. If this was a real debate, they've lost immediately. You deal with evidence and canon as support. Not use essays, what ifs , and half assed assertions such as those. It just sounds like they're afraid of being wrong. But foolishly they already are. Credibility goes down Immediately.
I understand that frustration when clotis make Aerith apologist comments that encourage dumbasses because they'll use it as a talking point to say "even clotis think Cloud was attracted to her!!!!" which is why I take myself away from those kinds of discussions because it's bullshit and I don't wanna argue with moots.
Before we had the material ulti plus scene showing that Cloud literally didn't recognise Aerith in her red dress a lot of us went "well he's male and she's dressed up 🤷" but then we got the scenario and the script that showed he literally didn't know it was even her and he was just surprised some random woman is walking towards him with a red carpet being rolled out and shit.
And then with the swimsuits, he isn't even looking at Aerith. He glances at her face then immediately checks out Tifa and we get that in the first person pov, so we see exactly where he's looking. Then he gets all shy and stammers, and they flirt. But, even when Aerith also matches he doesn't reply to her saying she needs help with the sunscreen, so he avoids her flirtation. He also constantly shows and tells her that he isn't happy with her yanking him around and calling everything a date.
So, given the literal evidence, no cloti should still be going around saying he finds her attractive. He clearly doesn't.
And idky we must have Cloud seeing her as attractive or being attracted just because she's a woman. She ain't pretty. That's not just me saying it. That's literally what we've been told throughout the games. She was called homely in wall market, Zack said she's only pretty from certain angles, nobody compliments her looks or style, and yet we're supposed to believe that the man who is panting after Tifa Lockhart, who is literally described as a bombshell, would also find someone subpar attractive and be interested in that because he's a man.
That's a pretty shitty way to view Cloud.
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don't cry. pour a small-seeming serving of any pasta noodle you'd like in a deep microwave-safe bowl, just barely cover the noodles with water, microwave for roughly 2 minutes 30 seconds, stir, microwave for 2 more minutes, carefully drain the pasta water from the pasta, liberally mix shredded non-mozzarella cheese into the hot noodles, and pour small amounts of milk in (maaaybe a school milk carton's worth or two at most) to taste and to make it creamier, okay?
#rosie babbles#nightblogging#recipe#macaroni#nothing against mozzarella ofc. it's just that the traits that make it perfect for mozza sticks and string cheese make for abysmal sauce#and you Will want to be careful with your water levels.#either that or be ready to use a sizable amt of paper towel to mop up the microwave platter.#also the timing can be fiddled with. experimentation is fun :)#you can also be like me and add garlic salt to the cheese sauce but i'm well aware i'm probably a bit of a freak like that xD#the fun thing abt this is that it's quicker than making actual boxes of macaroni#but allows for much more fiddling than Follow The EasyMac Instructions#literally the only bad-tasting version of this i've made so far was the one where i forgot to drain the water first.#also re: the water#depending on the bowl and your arm/wrist/grip strength you can carefully tilt the bowl over the sink#and use a spoon to hold the noodles back as you drain it#noodles that have been tested: egg. macaroni. small shells. bowtie (better eaten w/fork not spoon).#cheeses that have been tested: 'mexican-blend' shredded. additional pcs from sliced cheddar and colby jack#cheeses to avoid: mozzarella#i'd test this with lactose-free dairy#but i live in a house where cow milk is king and dairy substitutes are always easy targets for complaining#i can't think of any reason swapping out dairy for non-dairy or regular noodles for gluten-free noodles would cause issues tho
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ok since tears of the kingdom is coming out like. insanely soon i figured i’ll just dump how i’ve been feeling abt it here. i wont tag for them and i dont intend to share any but because i have been actively seeking out spoilers i will vaguely reference them here so… idk really long musings on this game and my feelings abt it
(im just writing this out mostly for myself since i really kind of just. want to really figure out how i feel about this)
i… am not excited for totk?
i’ve figured out a bit ago that my severely waning interest in botw and general anxiety and discontent surrounding totk is just that… these games arent for me. i dont enjoy open world games with half a million things for you to do like it’s basically a sandbox. i struggle to really enjoy singleplayer minecraft. the space stage in spore gives me genuine anxiety, both when i played it as a kid and again when i reached it as an adult.
botw and totk are not games for me, and that’s cool. i’ve figured that out.
so why am i getting so damn anxious about this new game?
i am getting totk- not entirely of my own volition, i live with someone who is very genuinely excited for it, so it’s pre-ordered digitally on our switch. i am going to play it and complete it at least once.
the gameplay and world of botw never really got to me, and even what snippets of gameplay i see for totk dont really entice me. it just makes me anxious to think about the sheer amount of new stuff i’ll be dropped in the middle of and how i really dont care about this version of link or zelda or anyone else in botw’s hyrule
and some of the story spoiler stuff and general direction this game is going in has me just worried that the zelda series is moving away from what it used to be into an entirely new direction, that being a direction that it seems like i wont enjoy as much as everyone else seems to
so then i guess my main worry outside of totk is that i just end up struggling to really feel connected to the rest of the community about this? being a contrarian is fun until everyone is enjoying something you for some reason can’t get yourself to
i dont have a lot of hope in the story of totk to harken back to… ANYTHING of worth that past games have built up and made to be so important and interesting. hype is a dangerous thing for a not-yet-released game, and while i think the insane amount of speculation and theories and hype around totk will cause a lot of people to be disappointed with the final story, i dunno if i really wouldve liked it even if the story actually piqued my interest
maybe totk’s gameplay will really hook me. maybe i’ll enjoy the massive open world and gmod-ass gimmicks. but what ive seen of the story makes me less interested and the snippets of gameplay i see just make me remember how bored i now am with botw
at the end of the day this is just a video game with tags on this site i can blacklist and videos i can ignore and lore i can brush aside because at this point loz canon is a suggestion more than anything
i just cant shake the discomfort of once again being an outlier as everyone i see loses their mind about this new game while i just feel overwhelmed by it. i have played botw for a long time and have long since worn it out. i played age of calamity to completion and have not touched it or cared for it beyond the music since. i am not excited about totk and i feel like i am in the wrong due to my opinion
#salty talks#kinda personal? just angsting abt totk and being a lil negative abt it#at this point im not expecting it to blow me away. i no longer have fun playing botw. i do not care for the story or characters#this if anything is to soothe my nerves and is for the sake of my own wellbeing to articulate how i feel about this#it is cool to like. put your feelings into words. this is a lot more eloquent than ‘i miss linebeck’#it feels kinda selfish to bitch abt a game thats not out yet and complain abt it not seeming enjoyable to me#but it looks like a genuinely good game. but its not for me. and thats what im ruminating on here#like i love linear stories games that limit you and fun little gimmicks and characters with complex arcs and all that#i played a little bit of skyward sword earlier and was finishing up the cistern dungeon and was so delighted to see the main statue lowered#i love the dungeons with gimmicks that flip everything around and force you to really think abour your next move#im excited to reach the water temple in oot again to swim around and tinker with the water level#i cant wait to finish oot and move onto mm and its wonderful gameplay and areas#id love to revisit albw and get back to playing ph (and maybe finishing triforce heroes idk abt that one i just want the linebeck outfit)#i played botw for like ten minutes a few weeks ago and then put it away without a second thought#so. if anyone wanted to know how i feel abt totk. its a bit alienating#i might blacklist every variation of ze/ink tbh. sayonara you weeaboo shits and your bland fucking milquetoast ship thats kinda irritating#i may delete this bc it errs on the side of being too personal but i really just need to write this stuff downh#anyways. going back to writing my thing abt my oc n linebeck hanging out and being gay
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HOW THEY FUCK YOU IN PUBLIC.
HOW JJK MEN FUCK YOU IN PUBLIC. (semi public.)
warnings: semi-public sex, public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, exhibitionism, fingering, blowjob, use of vibrators, jealousy, marking, edging, dacryphilia, degradation kink, praise kink. reblogs are appreciated:)
gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, megumi fushiguro, sukuna & yuuji itadori.
Gojo Satoru:
This man will make it obvious. He’s not embarrassed, in fact, he would be aroused by it. Noticing people giving the both of you stares, them noticing the hickeys on your neck, the messy makeup, it’s too much for him. Makes him hard again.
And it would happen at the most random times.
Mostly because he gets jealous, this man gets jealous because of everything. He doesn’t trust the other men around you. So that’s why he likes to show what’s his.
He’s more of taking the both of you to the restroom and fuck rather than a vibrator. Oh, and he loves teasing your legs with his fingers near your entrance, your trembling voice, hot face, making his pants get tighter and tighter.
“You like that. Don't you? Slut. Keep that pretty mouth of yours shut if you don’t want other to know how good i’m fucking your pussy right now.” You couldn’t contain your moans, not even covering your mouth helps. It was too much, he was too much.
“Don’t tell me you’re into that? Of course you’re into that. You fucking whore. I’ll make sure for everyone to know how good you get fucked. This pussy is mine.”
Geto Suguru:
This man is elegant. Uses vibrators, and fucks you in public as a punishment. He might not seem like it, but I swear this man is a JEALOUS man. Loves hanging out with others, sitting at the table while you’re by his side, hands down the table, control in hand and shakily sound coming out of you.
He would have a box of vibrators with different sizes, colors, and levels, just for this time of occasion or whenever he’s in the mood to just fuck with you.
Because he loves that, not only because he gets yards seeing you angry at him, but because of how turned on he gets while reclaiming what’s his.
He’s discreet about it, but makes it clear for you to never disobey him or look in direction towards another man.
“Am I going to fast baby?” He says in your ear, in a slow seductive low voice. Friends talking in front of the both of you, like nothing is happening down the table. “Aw, we’ll that’s so fucking sad for you, you decided to act like a big girl with other men, then take it like one.” He says while leveling up the vibrator, his hand resting on your thigh, looking happily at his friends and laughing at whatever they were talking about.
This was going to be a long day.
Nanami Kento:
He’s not the kind to fuck in public.
Prefers doing it in private, having his time, and enjoying it.
But when you get a little bit too bratty for his liking, he would snicker his legs(shoes) down the table to your center. Slightly moving it through your panties and clit, touching it with the point part of his shoe.
Edging you for release, he would retreat his shoe just in time for you not to cum. Asking the waitress for some water.
But when you get a little bit TOO bratty for his PATIENCE, he wouldn’t say a word. And that’s how you know you fucked up. Wouldn’t care if someone watched the both of you, he makes the two of you enter the restroom and fuck the soul out of you.
“You fucking slut. Couldn’t wait some hours to get fucked huh?” One of his arms wrapped around your waist, while his free hand rests on your neck. “And you need to have it right now. Like the fucking brat you are.”
Toji Fushiguro:
This man wouldn’t care. Not even like Gojo, he would make it SO obvious it becomes uncomfortable for the people around you watching the both of you having… intimacy.
His fingers would roam around your skirt/dress, making it easier for him to touch you, and shamelessly get under it. Touching the wet patch forming on your center, chuckling to himself. He loves knowing he has this type of power over you.
He would finger you to the max, his arm visibly shaking so you could get some pleasure, all while maintaining a smile like he’s overstimulating your core.
“I want to fuck you so badly.” He says while rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Too bad your fucking my fingers right now. I would love to fuck you infront of all this people. Such a piece of art.” A specific curl of his finger was enough for you to reach your climax. Trying to moan the lowest as possible to not bring any more attention, would be in vain, because he would shamelessly get his fingers out and insert them inside his mouth to lick your liquids off.
Megumi Fushiguro:
He’s not into it. Actually, you initiate it. By teasing him in public, touching him by ‘accident’ near his crotch. Showing a little bit more of your thigh to him, being all touchy.
But he’s a hard man to break, so you would get bored and annoyed easily. So that’s why you try to make him jealous.
And he won’t show it, but inside he’s figuring his own shadows to not fucking take you right there and erase that smirk of yours.
Taking advantage of you being way too busy trying to claim his attention while flirting with Yuuji, he went near the both of you and placed his hand on the back of your waist. Plastering a small smile on his face.
Yuuji noticed in less than a second he was mad. His hand traveled down your figure to your ass, your eyes widening looking back at Yuuji who was as shocked as you.
He gave a small almost visible smack, which caught you by surprise and made you squeak at the surprise. Feeling your face heated up, while Yuuji scratches the back of his neck. “Uhh…” He looks down at his phone, thanking god he has a way of leaving this situation. “Gojo-Sensei is calling me. Talk to you later guys!”
He sprinted as fast as possible towards the door, leaving the both of you alone. Wasting no time he laid you down on a desk and started taking your panties off and unbuckling his pants.
“You fucking whore. Can’t get enough of a cock you want another one huh?” He said while thrusts, a phone on his hand recording your fucked uo faces, tears dried down your cheeks. Messy moans and whines coming out of your mouth while he records the entrance where his cock appears and disappears inside of you.
The next day, he would ask Yuuji to meet him alone and show him the video. Threatening him to never let himself be that touchy with you.
Sukuna & Yuuji:
This would be more of a threesome tbh, this isn’t a lot like “public sex”, but i’ll start with explicit comments coming out of Yuuji thanks to a sukuna mouth appearing on his cheek. Saying how good your ass looked in that dress, saying how he wants to rip it apart and fuck you infront of everyone. Calling Yuuji a virgin and saying he has the same thoughts of you.
Yuuji would be bright red, looking at his classmates who were shocked and laughing at him at the remarks of Sukuna.
So that’s how you ended up in his room. Someway Sukuna and Yuuji being in control at the same time, while you fuck his cock in your mouth and ride his feet which has a mouth on it. Sucking your clit and tongue circling your entrance, until he appears with another arm and fingers you.
“Nn-ngh~ Don’t stop! You’re such a good girl…” Yuuji said while bobbing your head with his hand on top of your head. “She’s more of a brat. She’s teasing a lot, stop with that.” Sukuna said, curling his fingers just right, making you moan with his cock inside of you. Sending vibrations which made Yuuji moan and release inside of you. “Step back kiddo, it’s my turn to fuck with her.”
#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#nanami kento smut#toji fushiguro smut#megumi fushiguro smut#sukuna smut#yuuji itadori smut#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#megumi fushiguro#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#megumi smut
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One thing people often don’t know is you should never ever ever ever and I really mean NEVER use silicone lube with a silicone toy of any kind*.
The reason silicone makes such a great sex toy is that it’s so inert- it basically has no give and take with your body. Unlike plastic or rubber toys that your body can absorb things from, silicone is just staying in its lane.
The reason silicone lubricant is so great for sex is that it’s so inert. The body can’t absorb it like water so it just stays slick forever until you wipe it away.
But there’s one thing silicone loves in this world. And that’s itself. When mixed the two can bond, forming a chemical reaction and I’m going to tell you a story about that. This story happened pretty soon after I started working at the sex shop.
A couple was looking at lubricant and when I mentioned a silicone lube but that they should be careful not to use it with toys they both froze. Then shared a secret look. I paused and they said they knew that.
“It was our honeymoon,” he told me.
“We’d been having sex with silicone and then he went to use a toy on me. We didn’t know any better.”
I waited with horrified fascination. They were both wry, the story had happened long enough ago that it had moved into absurdity for them. But I know some of the reactions silicone can have, and none of them you’d want to happen inside you. It can bubble, melt, or-
“It swelled up so big inside me we couldn’t get it out. We had to go to the emergency room and they cut it out of me piece by piece.”
“Kinda took the steam out of the rest of the honeymoon.”
They were both laughing and I did too but mine was more haunted by the thought of toddling into an ER with a dildo the size of a zucchini sticking out of my crotch.
*As a technicality you CAN but you should be extremely careful. Silicone comes in different levels and a low level silicone toy won’t react to a high level lube. They only bond at the same level. If you ever want to test it you can put a little lube at the base of the toy to check for a reaction, but honestly it’s better to just use water based. Even hybrid lubes can bond to toys, gotta be careful with your crotches.
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❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞
❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞
✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing
✧ wc: 7,657
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!
“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara).
“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“
But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue.
You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?”
He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing.
You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder.
Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were.
He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit.
“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle.
“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning.
“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“
“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,”
And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“
“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,”
And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer.
And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,”
…maybe he spoke too soon.
~~~~
“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat,
“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“
You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“
He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing).
You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—”
“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,”
And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt.
His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea.
He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through.
Why did this feel so much worse?”
~~~
“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara.
Or rather he should have.
He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—
You got it from here.
The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—
The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.
“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,”
You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit.
And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now.
Until they take his body away.
A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“
“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are.
The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“
“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,”
And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret.
And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did.
You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”
“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger.
What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses.
“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—”
“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—”
“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ”
“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own.
“No—” and your hand finds his chest.
“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair.
And you didn’t — he was the one who left you.
~~~~
You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms.
You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.
But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out.
Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep.
Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns.
“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“
He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,”
“You didn’t—“
“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”
“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?”
He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,”
“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“
“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Then why?”
And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek.
And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still.
“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,”
And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips.
~~~
“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one).
You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them.
Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—”
“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—”
“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries, had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—”
“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound.
You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”
He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo).
“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him.
“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?”
And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head.
“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,”
And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—
But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do.
Just as you would never ask him to stay for you.
“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,”
“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“
He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft, “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,”
Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“
“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—
But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in.
“Kento—“
“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?”
And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?”
But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,”
And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,”
You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach.
And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to.
So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix.
He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it.
~~
“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,”
How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…
And now, here was the other.
He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—”
“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,”
“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,”
You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”
A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”
And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,”
“But—”
“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?”
Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”
And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?”
The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,”
You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,”
“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.
“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.”
~~~
“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on
“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful.
“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“
“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—”
And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you.
“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—”
“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,”
And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal.
But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off.
“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,”
Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices.
“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another —
his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“
But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick.
Another
“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,”
“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter.
His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter.
“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you.
Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release.
And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum.
“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust.
“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“
He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest.
You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—
Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips.
And he knew that he was certainly made for you.
“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him.
“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?”
And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside.
You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again.
“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips.
“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.”
~~~
It was over.
That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s.
He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them.
The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you.
And a beach in Malaysia.
“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing.
And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of.
“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips in an easy smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,”
Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse.
Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile.
And then he sees Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—
“Itadori,” Mahito says.
“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel.
But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop?
Could he finally stop?
No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him.
But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left.
But he couldn’t regret it now.
“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from—“
And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him.
It was you.
You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name.
“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“
“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“
“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“
“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black.
It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after.
Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house.
“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks.
You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?”
His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“
You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“
“But—“
“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head.
“It’s not—“
“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle.
“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“
“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,”
“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?”
His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.”
~~~
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“
“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck.
“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?”
“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,”
“It’s really not that bad—”
“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by.
“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder.
“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,”
And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him—
Always.
✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3
✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo
#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento fanfiction#nanami x you#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x reader
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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 3
mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.
But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.
contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna
warning: cursing
links: < part 1 > < part 2 >
***
You don't remember anything that happened last night.
Waking up with a throbbing head and no memories of what occurred when you were drunk was not something you were happy about. You were still dressed in your last night's clothes, your heels discarded on the floor, a blanket being over your body the whole time you were sleeping. You didn't even know how you still got home or how you even ended up on the living room couch, assuming that maybe Nanami took care of you because of the text he sent last night.
2:17 PM
Nanami: I hope you slept comfortably. Drink some water when you wake up.
You smiled at his message. Nanami is surely the gentleman out of everyone in the band, he really never forgets to take care of everyone.
So when Monday comes by, you immediately look for Nanami to thank him personally. It was during lunch period when you caught sight of the person you've been wanting to see, and without further ado, you ran after him as you called out his name.
Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna was just a few steps behind when he found you talking to Nanami. And the words that escaped your mouth sent his blood levels high.
“Nanami! I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me last Friday night!”
“Friday night?”
“Yeah? I was really drunk, but I do remember someone taking me home. And you texted me that morning too, so I concluded it was you. Anyways, thank you so much–”
That's all Sukuna needed to hear as he walked right past the two of you, his eyes shooting daggers at everyone who walked in his way.
What he witnessed somehow left a bitter taste in his mouth. Like there's a poison corrupting his veins, eager to suffer him to death as he clenches his hand in a fist to restrain himself.
All Sukuna could do was walk away.
He couldn't accept how you dare to think that another man took care of you and drove you home. He couldn't believe how you're thanking another man right away, instead of clarifying who did what first, and he's just really going to hate you more for this.
“Wait, what do you mean?” Nanami asked you with an evident confused look on his face. After rambling about how you appreciated his act of concern towards you last Friday, you finally focused on him and saw how he looked clueless about the situation.
“You… took me home, didn't you? Because… I was really drunk…”
“Oh.” He nodded, now realising what you said. “It wasn't me, though.’
•
You were entirely confused by the situation now. Your feelings had tangled up in your mind and you don't know what to believe anymore when you saw Sukuna walking past you in the hallways.
The surroundings seem to quiet down as you focus your eyes on him. His figure, his stare, his inevitably handsome face. It's all coming back to you again. The beat of your heart, like a slow motion film everytime he walks by, and you feel like you're a teenager for these feelings.
You were about to open your mouth to talk to him, when he brushed you off so easily as he spared you no glance, walking right past your shoulder. Mouth agape, words left unspoken, mind wandering elsewhere, your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.
If he's the one who took you home after the party, then why is he not taking any credit for it?
Did he do it out of pity or something? Did he just feel bad to leave you alone in there?
You knew he didn't have any feelings for you, so maybe it is the latter. And after that, he doesn't care anymore where you thank him anymore, because that's just how he is.
Sighing, you clutched your bag in your hand and thought of another time to thank him still.
On the other side, Sukuna is mad mad. He doesn't even know why. He can't even explain it himself because he feels like it's nonsense.
It's like a feeling of wanting to throw a tantrum for all his bottled up feelings of anger at you, but if he did do such a thing, he'll come out whiny. Plus, only Yuji does that.
He just hates it. Everytime he looks at you, that anger starts becoming intense in some type of way. His hatred makes him want to lock you in his arms, and just… and just…
Why is he thinking about this anyway?
He hates you for your annoyance. For your persistence. For always smiling at everyone. For always making his day feel incomplete if you're not there.
He hates you even more for thanking Nanami for something he had done. And he wants to knock some senses in you at some point.
He hates how you've changed. How you're slowly fading away from him.
He hates how he's maybe starting to feel different about you now.
•
“You might pierce a hole in her head if you keep staring like that…” Yuji whispered close to Sukuna’s ear. Sukuna flinched, but immediately hit Yuji with his elbow, leaving the latter hissing in pain.
The football field was yet again full of people. Girls would walk over and say hi to Sukuna and Yuji to where they sat at the benches, and only Yuji would have the heart to flash them his cheeky smile. While Sukuna watches you who had been sitting a few seats far away, your back facing them, focused on whatever conversation you have with your friend.
“Tell me,” Yuji continues. “Are you starting to like her?”
Sukuna immediately turned his head to him with a glare. He scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest, “That's total nonsense, Yuji.”
Yuji shrugged as he stared at you as well. “Not to me… You look… troubled…”
“That… has nothing to do with that fool…”
Yuji laughs at his brother, shaking his head at his denial. “Whatever you say.”
•
This is it. This is the right time to finally talk to Sukuna.
You breathed heavily as you wiped your sweaty palms on your clothes. Your heart was thumping loudly on your chest as you stood right before the band's practice room door.
You've been looking for Sukuna the whole day and ended up asking Yuji where he was, and this is why you ended up here. The door seems to dread a dark presence before it, looming an ominous aura within, or maybe it was just you over exaggerating things.
You nervously twist the door, and there you see Sukuna on his usual seat, legs spread apart, his face resting on his palms as he had his eyes closed. You almost backed away after realising that he was sleeping, but stopped when he opened his eyes.
“O-oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you were asleep!” You panicked, bowing at him repeatedly for your mistake. “I'll leave–”
“Do you need anything?” His deep voice felt like thunder as it rang in your ears.
You purse your lips, feeling the heat rush to your face. You reluctantly nodded your head as you took a step inside the room, closing the door behind you.
“About last Friday…”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he stood up, taking a step forward as he placed his hands on his pocket. “What about it?”
“Y-yeah uhm… Thank you for… f-for…” You started stuttering, your hands shaking on your sides. Sukuna's eyes landed on them, which startled you to clasped your hands together instead to keep them still, but it didn't really help.
“Say it.” He demanded, and it made you even more nervous because he was staring at you too intently.
“L-last Friday night… I want to thank you for…” You take a breath to calm yourself down. “N-nanami said… you took me h-home?”
“Are you asking me if I did?”
You pinched your shaking hands, not expecting his question. “Y-yes? Did you…?”
“Tsk.” He took a step closer, reaching out to grab your shaky hands with one hand. “What's gotten into the sunshine brat I know, hmm?” He asks, staring at your shaky hands between his. “Nervous?”
“T-that’s not the question, Sukuna.”
“Alright then,” he let go of you, bringing his hands back to his pocket. “I did. Happy?”
You closed your eyes at his answer, your breathing becoming uneven as you opened them again. Sweat is starting to form on your neck, “Why?”
It was the question that had been running in your head for the whole time since Nanami told you that it was Sukuna. And you needed answers. At this instant.
“You were drunk,” Sukuna answered straightforwardly. “Did you want me to leave you alone?”
“N-no! B-but–”
“Don't put too much ideas in your head.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
The world seems to start crashing down, and that's all the answers you need.
What were you expecting anyway? That magically, Sukuna started to care for you just because he had the heart to act like a person towards you? That maybe, he started to realise that his feelings for you were never hatred but it turned into something deep?
No, that's impossible. Liking you the way you like him was never in Sukuna's vocabulary.
So what now?
“Right!” You nodded your head with a smile. “I wasn't thinking of anything! I really just wanted to thank you, that's all!”
Sukuna searched your eyes, trying to read you. But you quickly feigned your disappointment as you grinned at him.
“I just needed to confirm that. Thank you, Sukuna! I should get going now. I won't bother you anymore.” You waved him goodbye as you ran out of the room, and when he was finally out of sight, tears started rolling down your face.
Sukuna, on the other hand, just stared off into space from where you left.
He was… undoubtedly, regretting his words.
***
Is the update too short? lol, ill make it up to you guys once im done with schoolworks!! i promisee 😭 part 4 will be up in idk when ☺️
#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x reader#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk ryomen#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#sukuna x yn#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#jjk fic#yuji and sukuna are siblings#yuji itadori#jujutsu x reader#jujutsu itadori#jujutsu au#jujutsu kaisen sukuna
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What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her
"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."
"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.
"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."
"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.
"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."
He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.
"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"
"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."
"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"
"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."
"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."
"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.
"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."
"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."
"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."
Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction
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Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).
Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.
Word Count: 2.7k.
TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.
Alhaitham
It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.
It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.
He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”
His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”
“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”
“The plots are very—”
“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“You’ve read them?”
There was a long beat of silence.
Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”
“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.
Neuvillette
Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.
You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.
You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.
Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”
His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”
Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”
“Mhm.”
“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”
He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.
Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”
For your own sake, you decided to believe him.
Kaveh
“Kaveh.”
“Not now, treasure.”
“Go to bed.”
“I will, in another hour.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”
“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”
“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”
Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.
Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.
With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”
Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.
But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”
You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.
He’d already fallen asleep.
Tighnari
He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”
“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”
“We don’t have any kids.”
“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”
“She’s nineteen.”
“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”
His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”
“Check page twenty-seven.”
You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”
“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”
You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.
Cyno
“You have kidnapped me.”
“Technically, I was only—”
“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”
“You can’t still be hung up on—”
“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”
“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”
For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”
His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”
There was a beat of silence, then another.
“Cyno?”
“I’ll change.”
Wriothesley
You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.
You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”
“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”
He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”
“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”
He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”
The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”
“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”
When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.
“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”
#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere genshin impact#genshin impact#genshin x reader#yandere genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin x you#alhaitham x reader#yandere alhaitham#yandere neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#yandere kaveh#kaveh x reader#yandere tighnari#tighnari x reader#yandere cyno#cyno x reader#yandere wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#yanderecore#yancore
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