#fuck what tags do i usually use lmao
Text
frog documentation. frogcumentation
I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child
took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this
zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like
happy extremely late birthday to this thing also
#bakuspecial#uhhhh. whats my craft tag. I forgor. update this later#frog plush babeyyyy#I want this thing to last until the heat death of the universe so I felled all the seams down. dont recommend doing this by hand#Im so stubborn lmao I refuse to get a serger I will simply get better at hand sewing instead. damn its taking kinda long#there used to be a Lot more frogs around hanoi. but the lack of clean water ponds and lakes have driven down the population#I live like right at the edge of the city rn tho (will no longer be the case in five years) so there are still a lot of aminals#house robins. skinks. fireflies (!!!!). praying mantises. tree frogs#they love to hang out at the fountain inside the complex right across the street. had to pick em up to return to the fountain#from the hot brick tiled ground a few times#theyre so small. theyre so small....#I miss house geckos they dont show up a lot in our apartment. I wish they would they would love the cockroaches around here#and of course. bc the kind of rice we eat is more short-grained and thus usually not all the way dried like the longer-grained type we have#so many rice weevils. do u know those little fucks do not drown for a Long time#do u know they lay eggs inside the rice grains and that's how u find out ur rice about to become the weevil beverly hill#by washing the rice and seeing hollowed out grains float up. I have become an expert at this.#but I get to see skinks in random bushes so who am I to be pissed about that. skinks rule#this has been baku talks about animals for a mile of tags. thank u for listening#well. its evening and the family wants to go out so that's what we're doin. hope u have a good time too wherever u are#see u this midnight when I reblog every new posts I've made in the last week or so lmao
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
I like to think that if my tumblr pals came to my house, they’d have a good time
#random post#I don’t mean that as in ‘yea woo let’s party and get fucked up’ like no lol#I just mean. our house is a place where people get along#there’s no expectations here. wanna sit and talk? we can hang out and talk about whatever#wanna play a game? chances are a few other people do to#need to get away for a bit and maybe take a nap? we’ve got plenty of beds take your pick. we’ll make sure no one bothers you#hungry or thirsty? help yourself don’t be shy. we can always get more#like we had ppl over on Saturday and it was so FUN like ppl would talk all together and then different conversations would split off of that#we would go outside then back in. we had food and some ppl had alcohol#we were laughing SO hard about funny shit (like discovering that my sisters bf worked on the gas meter at grandpas but didn’t SAY ANYTHING#ABOUT IT LMFAO) my cousin brought his gf to meet everyone and she just fit in perfectly and so obviously had an obsession for animals#her and my sister were like sudden bffs it was hilarious. my brother and younger cousin ate at 2:40 and slept upstairs till 6:00#and all we did was turn of the light and put on a fan for em lol. crack up at how comfortable they were#me and my lil sister were walking up and down the driveway talking and looking at the stars. the nap duo were pointing out constellations#when most everyone left it was my household and my sister and her bf. she played uno flip and incoherent with me (usually no one does lol)#and we laughed very hard at all of the adult cards. one of the hints she gave for sidechicks was ‘sad used to have a lot of these’ and#I immediately got it. it was fun. we blasted music from the 2000’s and ate bread#I slept for 11 hours that night lmao and I was tired the next day but I wouldn’t have changed it. I like them lots#it’s days like that that make me think I’m more extroverted than introverted. just because I don’t always know what to say doesn’t mean#I don’t like to talk yn? anyways I’m writing a novel in the tags but I don’t care <3 I just love us and I wish#other people were able to have love and fun times often#I hope this doesn’t sound like me bragging about my home life. trust me I know it’s not some shining light in the darkness or whatever#but it’s something. and I don’t mind sharing my love with other people
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
And on today's episode of "O'miz slays idv costumes"; Cheese.
#favorite andrew skin fr they popped AWF with him#o'miz tia#ffxiv wol#ffixiv#ffxiv art#warrior of light#miqo'te#emil scribbles#fuck what tags do i use usually. uhh#been a while ! lmao
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
One thing about Yokoyama and Jo is that Yokoyama advocates using a rocket launcher against him
AND HE'S RIGHT
#snap chats#so funny i was thinking of starting another Y7 speedrun tonight#and i'm 99% certain that the strategy for jo is that Frame One you hit him with the rocket launcher#and then yk eveyrthing after that is standard speedrunning in Y7 with han's head trauma/eri's darts/ichi's essence etc etc#i forget what adachi's supposed to be doing..... or is it suppoed to be saeko in this fight.....#i think it's saeko actually#i usually have the notes on standby forgive me ☠️☠️#either way yeah. rocket launch Best Friend#i dont think you use it against kiryu tho i think you just ice him to death#jo fight gets me fuckinnnnnnnn yelling though because im such shit at blocking on time for his attacks#which means i do have to sit through the mini cutscene of like 50% of his cane strike attacks#NO WAIT IM RAMBLING AT THIS POINT LMAO BUT I THINK JO'S SECOND FIGHT WAS THE SECOND I DIED ON#like obvi i went into the jima fight underprepared but kiryu after that was just fine#and then jo just. Ok I'll Go Fuck Myself Alright Thank You#idk first playthroughs are always fun arent they#ouuuugh now i just really wanna boot up Y7 now#i always think about streaming me playing or even just chatting cause i feel like that'd be fun#but i'm very Not tech savvy in lieu of Other Shit so. Big Rip. we'll settle for the liveblogging#and twenty-tag-long-rambles jesus CHRIST ENOUGH THIS ASK WAS SIXTEEN WORDS LONG#one tag for each word good grief
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love reading media all at once and going yeah that makes sense and then seeing people talk about it extensively and realizing i didnt retain shit
#its so funny to me bc i have a bad havit of like binging things without like. actuall retaining anything or even analyzing it#when i consume something for the first time especially if im binging im very reactive and dont think too hard about things#also cuz most of the time i honestly dont trust shit of anything that im being told#like so many times its like oh turns out this character is lying or it did happen but i dont have the full context#so i never really take things at full face value anymore#fucking jack vesallius comes to mind lmao#so usually it takes me a second read through after im aware of all the plotpoints or at least what has been released so far#and then i can like calmly look at shit with like full knowledge of these characters personalities and i can analyze the themes and symblism#and shit like that#which is terrible for me bc i hate reading things again unless im either really into it or its been so long and i suddenly remember it exist#especially if something is super long like omg 😭#i guess thats why i kinda look thru tv tropes cuz its like doing ur homework right after class? like the mnowledge is in ur head and then u#use it immediately after to retain it better#ill be reading the tv tropes like 'that is absolutely not what thag meant' or 'your opinion is wrong bc so and so'#i mean im ranting in my head but you know#i conpletely forgkt where i was going with this oops <3#michi tag
1 note
·
View note
Text
reading dungeon meshi
#random thoughts#it has the kind of plot i hate where you retread the same plot point repeatedly while making progress elsewhere#like hi falin bye falin#like i cared about them finding falin. then they found her. and now she's gone again.#i don't like marcille but in like. a compelling way. she's my favorite archetype of character who is specifically female for some reason?#lady who thinks her way is the right way and she's morally right and therefore everyone else is wrong#high conscientiousness with low openness to experience. see themselves as agreeable dutiful and restrained while not being any of that#they tend to take on moralistic causes but they usually don't have a defined reason for WHY they're doing it so it just comes off as preachy#and the narrative tends to take their side with no basis in why#like when marcille tried to prove herself with the mandrakes and put everyone in danger and senshi conceded he was ALSO in the wrong???#and even marcille was like 'that wasn't my point at all'#that entire chapter made me mad it was so good#it's also doing that thing i hate when a piece of media introduces too many characters at once#like who's who what's what who is important who should i remember#i love the detail put into the cooking sessions!!!#i love how all the characters are so fucked up and not even in plot-important ways#like chilchuck's cowardice is very important to the plot but senshi was straight-up willing to let a man die for his flavorful cooking lmao#laios is. my man. i need him carnally.#i get that the whole 'got eaten by dragon' thing was not meant to be the Whole Plot but i feel like the background plot is just not my thing#either that or it wasn't set up in a compelling enough way?#idk. im still reading#all in all i think dungeon meshi might just not be my thing? plot-wise i mean. i love the characters and the general premise#of monster biology and environmentalism and cooking and augh#i don't like how everytime senshi corrects marcille on something so far he ends up going 'i guess i also need to learn a thing or two'#like on the mandrakes? the man has FIELD EXPERIENCE he was entirely in the right to prefer his method!!!#and on the environment thing? first of all marcille's whole thing is building artificial dungeons she SHOULD care about the food chain#SECOND OF ALL telling marcille she shouldn't kill so many fishmen isn't playing GOD or whatever#that kraken was a fucking. extenuating circumstance. it was literally there just to make marcille's argument credible#animals killing each other through the food chain is different from marcille using what is essentially a rocket launcher#god i ran out of tags. peace and luv bruvs 🤟 kind of have a hate crush on marcille now. need her
1 note
·
View note
Text
「 RP MEME : CARING FOR SICK MUSES . 」
@skilledsenses asked: ‘ you look miserable. ’ ( ranpo for nikolai - )
The cheery facade the jester ne'er drops is nowhere to be found when he teleports away from the gruesome scene of the murder and appears in an enclosed alleyway at the edge of his ability; though the clown's appearance may imply the murder has moved along with him to the new location as his blood seeps into the whites of his clothes and he wonders whether the official he's just killed has felt any sort of solace after inflicting the injuries Nikolai has allowed them to before giving out their last, suffering breath.
It isn't a fatal injury for him anymore, not after the killer clown has taken the antidote for the poison that has oh so accidentally slipped into his blood vessels when the victim has gnawed at his skin in their desperation to live, but Nikolai's body continues to remain ill at ease, still displaying tell-tale signs of having been poisoned even after its fight against the deadly poison has been won. It's when he uses his cloak to spawn a napkin and bring it upwards to wipe the blood from his face (both his own, caused by a severe nosebleed; and the victim's, caused by their... rather gross death) that a familiar voice rings in his ears and Nikolai half-attempts to remember if hallucinations were due as a side-effect of the poison; only for heterochromatic eyes to glance in the direction of the sound and fall onto his (favorite!) detective.
Gently erasing the stains of blood from his visage while idly staring at Ranpo, an eerie smile blooms from the spots where the drops of blood used to be and it soon shifts into a loud burst of laughter as Nikolai remains entirely nonchalant about the acute loss of blood and the way in which the sharp movements of his laughter only further cause him harm. ❛ Ahahaha!! What an amusing twist of fate! ❜ A downside of his ability is not being able to perceive the world beyond its 30 meter border until after the transfer has been completed, which is why he tends to teleport to nearer places and blend within the crowds after most heists or murders - yet this wasn't a possibility with his current state of being in mind, and therefore it seems he ought to improvise and deal with the cards at hand. Perhaps it isn't such a bad thing though, to have come across the other in this dire state of affairs, and indirectly offer him a new angle to consider his psyche from.
Why would Nikolai be standing here, as viciously injured as he is, despite being easily able to dodge or block any incoming attacks he wishes to, from the brilliant detective's perspective?
Ranpo's remark almost incites a second fit of laughter from the jester, one that Nikolai only abstains from out of pity for his poor, mishandled and abused body (after all - he can't afford to die just yet, now can he?) and instead opts for a slightly less ostentatious show and a calmer (though still unnervingly upbeat) tonality. Is he really as fine as he makes himself out to be, or are his injuries (internal and external) far more painful than he allows them to appear? ❛ Is that any way to talk to someone who's bleeding out in front of you, Ranpo-kun~? What if those were the last words I ever heard, hm~~? ❜
#muse: nikolai gogol.#skilledsenses#* nikolai gogol. / ic.#ask 2 tag#This man is sick but sick in the head LMFAO#I love how you sent this in and even tho Kolya doesn't get /sick/ he immediately let me know I can brutalize him in front of Ranpo#FOR CONTEXT! (My) Nikolai sometimes allows his victims to do their worst to him in their last moments; as a fucked up show of mercy#in the same vein as the act he puts up as a ''heartless murderer who enjoys their suffering'' - it's to give them SOME sort of relief#before death inevitably takes them. and while it may come across as penance in others' eyes... it's actually more on the lines of#going against humans' innate fears of feeling terrible pains and bordering death (no sane person would ever do what Kolya's doing)#This is also why Kolya has a MYRIAD of scars on his body. especially on his legs since plenty of victims can't quite... stand up#and in this particular case? he used poison on his newest victim; a poison that got into his own blood vessels too#he Could've easily dodged that bullet. but he Didn't. he let himself suffer like hell til the victim died before he took the antidote#and now he's living w the consequences of his (conscious) decisions AGAIN :). except unlike usual; he encountered a wild Ranpo LMAO#Nikolai; looking like a picasso work if picasso ever decided to be a fan of depicting brutal murders: Haha fancy meeting you here!#QUEUE.
1 note
·
View note
Text
I think I’m still trying to unwind from physically (and mentally) convulsing after receiving a friendly text from my coworker yesterday morning
#everything she said was completely fine it’s just the phrasing she used rocketed me back to a really terrible mental spot#and on the one hand it’s fucking hilarious because what she literally said was:#‘Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing.’#which is nice!! that’s a very kind thing to say to your friend#but aside from my weird mental state these past few weeks#(memories etc. surfacing that I haven’t worked through at ALL but I thought I’d at least repressed them well enough)#my track record with people coming to me with ‘just checking up on youuuu 🥺’ (and slightly less often)#‘I’m doing this because I have your best interests at heart’ is Very Bad#when people send me messages like that unprompted I brace myself for a *LITERAL*#hours long lecture of being talked down to and stripping my agency by way of many helpful ‘suggestions’#read: demands that if I don’t comply with them; my belongings will get thrown in the dumpster and I’ll be made fun of the entire time#my early 20’s were so fun ✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️#also flavored Absolut is still 80 proof (other brands’ flavored vodka is usually like 70 proof)#which is entirely unrelated to how I dealt with all the mockery and lectures and disrespect 😙#this got away from me#personal#rant in tags#depending on how much housework etc. i get done this afternoon I might also go into recent interesting gender feelings#we’ll see how besotted I am by then lmao
1 note
·
View note
Text
thinking. about zenos
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა ffxiv ໒꒱ *·˚#tall. blond. not a french fry </3#okay honestly though the way he's the only guy who can get wol like THAT. man. man.#okay a bit related but somewhat off-topic as well hmm. people often write zenos as H-Word and honestly i can definitely see why#it makes a lot of sense and maybe it really is canon but i'm not sure bcs strangely i hc him as . ace.#and that sexuality i remember seeing that's like... cannot differentiate friendship and romantic love?#zenos calls us his dearest friend. his FIRST friend. which is so sad but that's not the point rn! it's that he sees us as a 'friend'#and okay now this is when it goes out of canon bcs tbh romance (and even friendship) in xiv is up to the player for sure but like?#for me and my wolnpc ship w zenos i see it as he sees her as a friend but it's actually romantic love. he just. can't differentiate it#strangely too i don't see him as h-word and rather asexual bcs i don't for some reason really think he thinks That Much abt what's in his#uh. pants. yeah ?? bcs he's battle h-word for sure but i don't think in the usual usage of that word he really fits#just my hc tho! though then again there isn't - as far as i'm concerned - proper canon regarding this#tbh these hcs might come from me liking akechi and sh/uake (crossed out to avoid tags <3) dgbahjgb#yk sometimes i don't think i like antags like these guys but then i remember i find lobelia very interesting. so oh well#and from the very second i met fandaniel he was so fucking funny and cool. annoying but i wasn't annoyed ... if that makes sense#there's a certain darkness to it! to antags like them. >___< tho there's a line when it comes to antags and/or villains i don't or do like#i really relate with zenos tbh. not in the way i'm a murderer bcs i'm not LMAO and i'm not really uhh that nihilistic for sure#nihilistic/hedonistic. which reminds me i like faa and belial and bubs! oh wow! <//3#it's in a sense that okay it isn't obvious but inside my head i am. it's like a nerdy book full of poetry quotes#okay maybe that's kind of obvious but idk how to really explain ... but zenos is a nerd and i am too in a similar way ngl#and the fact he seeks... satisfaction but also he doesn't really properly know what he wants. and why only fandaniel gives him the time of#day. and all that yes yes. and i think i can relate bcs i'm confused too by who i am. not to the point i bother others as much as him tho#+ the fact that i like exhileration and all that ....... the satisfaction of those kinds of things#but irl man ofc i'm not going to seek fights WHEEZE but i release my feelings thru writing and imagining and. man#wol/zenos (hope this won't show in tags ^^) is so good with the FLAVOR ................#the story kinda forces you to kinda. not be nice to zenos but tbh i just want to be nice to him#he fucking sucks but i just think he deserves better. but hm. yeah it's complicated but yeah i want to be nicer to zenos in the choices#i think the fact he's our mirror and the only person who first and foremost sees us as an Adventurer and not a Warrior of Light is. so good#tbh i think they really should have introduced how he looks beneath the helmet in that scene where we fight him and he. Yeah
0 notes
Text
pull (a joel miller drabble)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 854
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You discover something new about Joel.
Warnings: unprotected p in v sex | rough Joel | hair pulling | creampie | biting | (allusions to) oral (f receiving)
Notes: lmao I just quickly had to write this, inspired by this first look at season 2 that made me feel like a Victorian lady who needs to go to the seaside for her constitution, @ravensmadreads - I saw your tags and on my post from like half an hour ago, so here it is.
***
"That's it, that's it," he groans, his eyes closed tightly in concentration as he focuses entirely on feeling you around his cock. You want to focus too, on how he fills you, on how firmly you can clench around him, but there is something you want more – to stare at him in wonder and adoration.
That he came back to you today is a miracle, that you are straddling him now while he sits on your couch, legs spread widely, letting you roll your hips against him … you never want to take that for granted again. Usually, when he almost dies or you almost die, you don’t fuck like this. Usually, he takes the lead, more determined, sometimes more violent than you, until he has made sure you will not disappear from beneath him, that you’re real and solid and here. Today is different.
His breath hitches as he moves beneath you, and changes the angle ever so slightly. You clench around him, hard, your mouth falling open to shape a surprised O. That’s when his eyes fly open and he smirks up at you, a look you could paint from memory, one you can see so clearly even in the dimness of the room.
“You’re always so tight for me,” he mumbles against your neck, kissing you first just below your ear, then right above your collarbone. And then he bites down, ruthlessly, right into a tendon jutting out of your neck.
Your breath hitches as pain shoots through you. There it is, that brutal, almost violent side of him you love so much, and your world starts to make more sense again.
He’s licking the spot he bit, the one that will probably show the marks of his teeth for a while, when you raise your hand and dig your fingers right into his curls, pulling him away from you. His neck, stretched by the sudden movement, is all exposed now, his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he assesses the challenge you’re presenting him with.
Like a cat trying not to get caught, he moves his mouth closer to your throat again, not breaking eye contact, silently daring you to do something about it. You let go of his curls, brush them back, relishing how smooth they feel beneath your fingers, how they curl tightly at the back of his neck. And that’s where you dig in next, yanking his head toward the backrest of the couch.
He groans, so lost in the sensation he forgets about your little game. He thrusts up into you, meeting the roll of your hips, coming as close to relinquishing control to you as is possible for him.
You tighten your grip. “Kiss me.”
His hand closes around the back of your head immediately as he brings your lips down for a kiss. You smile, unable to hide your pride.
“What?” You feel the question against your lips more than you hear it.
“Guess you like it when I do this,” you whisper back, and yank his curls a third time, right on the this.
He growls, a sound that makes your hips stutter and your stomach curl tightly every time you hear it. “Careful, sweetheart, you’re playing with fire.”
“What are you going to do about it, big boy?” you ask, knowing full well what will happen if you use those two words.
He rolls you over faster than you can consider the consequences of your own actions so your naked stomach lands against the couch. You hear his belt buckle jingle as he kicks off his jeans, then climbs above you. You shake, actually shake, with anticipation, your whole body charged with an energy that’s impossible to control.
He's so so big when he takes you like that, and you press your face against the couch to muffle your scream as he pushes into you, spreading you so wide you’ll still feel him tomorrow. The whole couch shakes as his thrusts become erratic, chasing his own pleasure while putting yours on the back burner. That's the side of him you love the most – the one that lets go and just takes.
He doesn’t pull out when he comes, doesn’t try to hide the desperate stutter of his hips or the deep pants he makes when he empties himself into you, the ones you love to hear but he always tries to suppress. You lie still, finally in a position to focus on the sensations.
When he pulls out, you expect him to sit down next to you, to tell you, “Give me a minute,” like he so often does. He never forgets about your pleasure, but he needs to collect himself after an orgasm. Today, he glides of the couch onto his knees and pulls on your arm until you sit up, ears still ringing from how hard he fucked you.
“Come here, sweet girl,” he says softly, wrapping your legs around his shoulders, his eyes on the mess he made of you. “I need you to hold on now.” And then he buries his face between your legs.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#don't look at me
647 notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshin men Instagram HCs
Ft. Xiao; Scaramouche; Zhongli; Childe; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Tighnari
(gender neutral reader but wears a dress in Scara & Zhongli's parts)
Xiao // @ a1atus
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Very rarely posts
Never pictures of himself, you’ll only see his face in tagged photos
If he does post, it’s probably a new album cover of a band he likes, a particularly good plate of almond tofu from his favorite café, or—if he’s in a particularly good mood—a cute stray cat that befriended him on the street
Never edits anything but still takes pretty decent photos because he understands basic composition rules
Never tags anything but will sometimes write simple captions like “new guitar”
His pfp has not changed since he made his account and its literally just the blandest selfie you’ve ever seen—but he’s effortlessly photogenic so even when he’s just staring at the camera with a blank expression he looks hot
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
Xiao will unintentionally do his loyal boyfriend duties and like all of your posts but he never actually leaves a comment unless you specifically ask him to but you have to tell him what to say or else you’ll just get something like “your hair is nice” LOL
Maybe makes one post related to you but it doesn’t have your face—just picture of your hands holding each other or a photo he secretly took of you from behind as you admire some paintings from when he took you on an art gallery date
Still doesn’t write much in captions but if the post includes you, he always adds a little black heart emoji 🖤
Scaramouche // @ balladeer
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Vehemently claims he’s not chronically online but he definitely is
Def has a dark / emo aesthetic profile and puts more effort into it than he’d ever admit
Uses stories pretty frequently
Usually to show off his game stats and victories or to vent about some annoying inconvenience that's just happened to him
balladeer Jfc the train is late again I may as well just walk home everyday ffs
All his late night gaming photos are so highly saturated in his pitch black bedroom, the only source of light being his screen on max brightness and his violet RGB keyboard. If you raise the screen brightness on your phone you might be able to make out some empty Monster cans and ramen cups on his desk—he absolutely gives Discord / Reddit mod vibes 🤢
Definitely has a story archive just for Valorant 🤮
I wanna fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid—
Posts a few selfies to show a new piercing or the very rare occasion where he’s feeling really confident in his looks
unintentionally thirst traps the emo boy lovers; yes, I am talking about you and I—
Lightly edits photos or uses filters to make them look good but nothing extreme or super aesthetic, mostly just for decent contrast
Usually the first one to see any of his friends posts but never ‘likes’ them
Will leave snarky or sarcastic comments when the mood strikes tho
His pfp is a candid picture someone else took that he thinks he looks decent in—sticking his tongue out and giving double middle fingers to the camera
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
Makes a post or story for every date you guys have, even if it’s just a vague picture of your shoes together
He likes to show off that he has such an attractive s/o but also lowkey just wants to have a memory to look back on for the nights he feels lonely
Doesn’t post just you though, he’s always in frame holding you or touching you in some way—he feels the need to put some sort of claim cause he thinks people are gonna shoot their shot with you—he’s kinda paranoid and insecure, pls have patience w him
Likes and comments on all of your posts. Sometimes it's a snarky quip like if you post about you and your friends doing something funny he might comment “lmao ur so dumb” but if its a selfie or something you’re proud of, he leaves a little compliment and heart emoji.
YN0103 [bedroom mirror selfie of you shyly posing in a dress]
YN0103 Bought a new dress today…it’s not my usual style but I rlly like it 🥺
balladeer cute 💜
If anyone ever confronts him in person about his nice comments on your posts tho he’ll get flustered and claim his account was temporarily hacked LOL
His heart def flutters when you post a picture of him on your own account
He kinda can’t believe you’re proud enough of him to publicly post about him
Changes his pfp to the two of you together and, if you zoom in and squint, you can tell he’s kind of smiling <3
Zhongli // @ rex_lapis
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
I’m sorry but I have to do it…
He has Facebook grandpa vibes
Like he has no idea how to use half of the features; stories are an absolute mystery to him. What is a reel?
But he tries to be supportive of his friends and will leave way-too eloquent comments with a Wikipedia levels of supplemental information
a1atus [ photo of a shiny Fender acoustic guitar laying on what seems to be a bed]
a1atus new guitar
rex_lapis Lovely new instrument, Xiao. You seem to have quite good tastes – that particular model is popular among many professional musicians. It is well renowned for its clear sound and beautiful mahogany exterior. If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to hear you play it someday over tea.
a1atus @ rex_lapis thanks
the way I cackled writing that exchange ygweyufgwyu Xiaos just like ‘thanks for commenting dad’
His pfp is not him—it’s probably a famous painting he likes or a beautiful white flower from a garden he visited
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
If you want him to improve his Insta game, you’re going to have to teach him, I’m sorry
On the up side, Zhongli is a great student and is eager to learn anything you teach him
Will try to post pretty regularly; usually somewhat mediocre photos of beautiful scenery like sunsets and flowers
Like Scaramouche, he enjoys the idea of documentary your time together so he posts something at the end of each of your dates
Your heart lowkey melts when Zhongli, very earnestly, asks after dinner if you’ll allow him to take a selfie with you to post on his Instagram
Regularly asks for feedback on his posts to ensure he’s properly taking your advice and improving :,)
He even starts organizing and naming story archives on his profile—simple titles like “tea,” “nature,” “friends,” and “my dearest”
Likes and comments on every single one of your posts and replies to all of your stories, even if he was there with you
Usually just lathers you in compliments on your beauty or tastes but they’re so thoughtfully written that it’s obvious he’s not “just saying it” and genuinely believes all the kind things about you he writes
YN1231 [photo of you twirling in a summer dress amidst a colorful of bed of flowers in a botanical garden, take by your friend]
YN1231 It’s finally starting to feel like spring! 🌸🌼🌺
rex_lapis While the camelias are lovely, they pale in comparison to your radiance. Your yellow sundress is also quite lovely and compliments your complexion in the morning sunlight. Truly a divine sight.
balladeer @ YN1231 @ rex_lapis ugh can you guys keep it in the DMs
- Changes his pfp to a selfie of himself smiling after you told him he should. The angle is a little odd but he’s so naturally attractive that he still manages to look good.
Ajax // @ tartaglia_on_top
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Doesn’t post too often but when he does, it kinda gives stereotypical frat boy
Like, lots of parties and shirtless beach photos with his friends
The surprise is the occasional posts of his little siblings and kids he volunteers with in between
He sometimes posts championship and practice photos from his martial arts competitions with captions thanking his team and mentors
Is pretty popular—has a few thousand followers, many are people he met just once or twice at parties or genuine friends and classmates, but the vast majority are online fans who just follow cause he’s hot LOL
Is the type of person you followed once after meeting a long time ago and never talk to again but you can’t bring yourself to unfollow cause he’s nice and his updates are kinda interesting and he’s hot
Isn’t online that much so he doesn’t like/comment on his friends’ every post but usually tries to leave congratulatory messages when someone accomplishes something or graduates
His pfp is a closeup of himself with a boyish grin he cropped from a group photo
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
It is super obvious when you guys start dating cause almost every post from that point is about you in some way LOL
tartaglia_on_top [photo of Ajax, sweaty and exhausted but clearly excited as he holds a trophy in one hand with the other wrapped around your waist while he presses a kiss to your cheek]
tartaglia_on_top Officially a 3 year championship winner! Thanks to my biggest supporter @ YN0720 😘
He’s not even consciously trying to post you all the time, it just happens because you are either always together or any memorable moment he thinks are worth an Insta post involve you in some way
You’re the only person, aside from his family - that he actually likes/comments on all posts for
Is the type of boyfriend to leave those super dramatic, embarrassing comments on your selfies like “DAAAMN BABE 🥵 finna make me act UP” and, in one particularly shameless case, “god youre so hot pls step on me queen 😍”
Please block him
He shamelessly liked all your past posts from before you too met as well—you were kinda mortified to wake up one morning to a notification that just said “what a lil cutie ❤️” on a post of yourself from seventh grade.
Changes his pfp to a couple selfie he took of the two of you kissing on a winter vacation in the mountains
Kaveh // @ kaveh.designs
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Obsessed with having an aesthetic profile
Like, the color palette of the background and clothing in his pfp selfie are carefully matched with the cover of each of his story archives, down to the hex code
He carefully edits every post and uses filters to make them all fit with his theme no matter how inaccurate to real life they may become
“Huh…I thought your bedroom wall was a bit more orange than this…”
“Oh, that’s cause I use 30% Juno in all my bedroom photos for a warmer finish.”
“???”
Despite his aesthetic profile, he doesn’t come off as particularly vain or narcissistic—only posts selfies when he’s has a particularly good hair day or changed his accessories
Most of his posts are of places he travels to (museums and big cities with interesting architecture) or his own sketches and rendered design projects
Online pretty frequently, always checks insta when he wakes up, before bed, and during lunch breaks
His stories are often project updates, interesting things he encounters throughout the day, or food photos
Only likes posts he actually likes and sometimes comments with photography critiques
tighnar1 [photo of a cluster of three bright blue mushrooms clustered against vibrant green grass and patches of dark, wet soil]
tighnar1 Proof the forest is an amazing place: found this beautiful little cluster of juvenile Rakkhashava mushrooms on my hike today. Great spotting by @ colleeei. Check my story for some cool mushroom facts. 🍄
kaveh.designs great photo composition, Tigh, perfect golden ratio on the caps.
tighnar1 @ kaveh.designs Thanks I guess…
Has a decent number of followers, many of whom are also artists familiar with Kaveh’s reputation from the Kshahrewar. Others just like his OOTD stories and charming smile
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
Kaveh revamps his entire profile once you two become official
His pfp becomes a candid taken by a stranger of the two of you together at an aquarium, holding hands as you point something out to him through the glass
It was taken by a photographer working at the aquarium as part of a promotion—the photographer showed you two the photo and asked for permission to post it on their official website and Kaveh was absolutely obsessed with the photo—it’s still one of his favorite and it doesn’t even show your faces
He still matches his archived story covers to his new pfp but his actual feed had become a lot more relaxed and natural now
He still slightly edits photos so they look as good as possible, but he doesn’t like using filters on photos of you or the two of you together because he thinks it would be a disservice to your natural beauty
Like Ajax, his posts and stories naturally become mostly about you whether scenes from your dates—candid photos he takes of you where he insists you look like art even though you’re just in pajamas with an unmade face—or even photos of things he sees throughout the day that remind him of you
Sometimes he posts stories of funny reels or art pieces he knows you’d like and tags you in them with messages like “@YN0709 omg remember when we were talking abt this?” and “me & @ YN0709💕”
Similar to Childe, leaves the most downbad, dramatic comments on your posts
YN0709 [swimsuit selfie]
YN0709 happy summer! ☀️🌊
kaveh.designs Oh my god my heart– 💘 I cannot believe I get to come home to this every night 👅💦
YN0709 @ kaveh.designs omg kaveh pls 💀
al_haitham @ kaveh.designs Every time I see one of your comments I regret ever learning how to read.
Alhaitham // @ al_haitham
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Only made an account so his friends would stop bothering him about not keeping up with things tbh
Checks his feed a few times a day but skips through stories if they’re too long/too many
Absolutely hates concert stories the most cause they’d loud, long, and filled with off-key drunken singing
Never likes or comments on anything unless it’s really interesting to him
Occasionally shares reels in his story that are like interesting history facts or official Akademiya announcements
Has a few posts (and only cause Kaveh would not shut up about it) but they’re mostly just pictures of book covers he’d just finished reading with a detailed review or literary analysis as the caption—but he’s mindful of avoiding spoilers for those who haven’t read it
However, he does have one post that stands out quite a bit
He posted an unintentional gym third trap because he just happened to be working out, as is routine, and thought it might be nice to share some tips on proper rope pushdown form
If you’re not a gym babe and don’t know what this is, I beg of you, please look up a gif or video and imagine Alhaitham doing this, shirtless. You’re welcome.
It has become his most popular post by far
His pfp is probably taken straight from his faculty ID card: plain background, bright lighting, neutral facial expression
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
After you two have become official and are pretty comfortably established in your relationship, he’ll post a photo of the two of you—probably one you took - with a simple caption like “Late night at Puspa Café with my favorite person 💚”
Everyone who knows him freaks out in the comments with variations of “omg hathie got an s/o???” and “wow he finally posted a normal pic of himself, y/n is a good influence” but he doesn’t reply to any of them lmao
If you use Instagram a lot, he’ll naturally become more active too because he enjoys learning more about what you like through your posts and stories
He likes all of your posts but never comments—if one of your posts interests him, he’d prefer to wait until he sees you later to ask you about it in person
He just wants an excuse to talk to you more
As he becomes more active, little bits and pieces of your relationship naturally infiltrate his feed
His latest book review post has your favorite mug in the background because the two of you had breakfast together
His informational story post of an antique Sumerian emerald he found at a street vendor is being modeled by your pretty hands because you were with him when he saw it and later given to you after the vendor insisted on Alhaitham gifting it to his “beautiful spouse”
He changes his profile picture to the two of you from one of your many reading dates, comfortably lounging on a loveseat in a quiet corner of the library—and this time, he’s softly smiling
Tighnari // @ t1ghnar1
Surprisingly active on social media
He thinks social media is a great way to share information about the importance of forest conservation and get people to appreciate the beauty of Avidya forest
Makes one post almost every day and multiple stories
Needless to say, 90% of his posts are of plants or small animals he finds on his hikes or while working
His most popular posts are those of cute squirrels and birds that are being nursed back to health after being found wounded—animals just seem to naturally love him so the pictures are usually taken by his coworkers because his arms are full with cuddly animals that refuse to move
The other 10% of his posts are from the occasional hang outs with friends or coworkers after work—snaps of iced fruit teas from Puspa café or colorful clay plates overflowing with Collei’s homemade pita pockets.
He makes sure to reply to or at least like every comment, particularly those from people asking questions about the plants he posts or how to become a forest ranger. Even simple “wow that's so cool” comments often get at least a “thanks, glad you liked it” from Tighnari
He tends to use some cute forest or food emoji when they fit with his posts. For example, 🍄,🥙,🦊,🐦, etc.
Also tends to use “:)” when replying to his followers because he knows it can be difficult to read tone in text-based communications
Tigh is basically a social media manager at this point oops
Because he is online so much, he naturally keeps up with almost everything his friends post and will like or comment on things he finds interesting
His pfp is a selfie of himself with a small yellow bird perched on his shoulder from one of his patrols
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
All Tighnaris written by me WILL follow the “fennec foxes mate for life” trope regardless of AU, it is an indisputable law of the universe
If you’re in a relationship with Tighnari, you should be prepared for stability and commitment in general
While he doesn’t go out of his way to make an official announcement post or anything like that, you become a regular feature on his page
Will tag you in anything you’re related to, unless you specifically ask him not to
t1ghnar1 [photo of a small, cream-colored fox brushing itself against Tighnari’s leg and looking up at the camera with large eyes]
t1ghnar1 On a walk with @ YN1229 this morning we spotted this cute little kit without her mom. 🦊 While adorable, foxes - even kits - are wild animals and should never be approached unless by professionals. We have informed the local animal control where she will be taken care of until we can locate her family. Photo by @ YN1229
He never outright announces you as his lover but he seems to spend so much time with you and refer to you so casually that his followers who don’t know him just assume you’re his spouse LOL
He doesn’t bother to correct them either :,)
bennie_boy Wow, that mountain is so high up - wasn’t ur spouse scared to go up there?
t1ghnar1 @ bennie_boy Y/n has been on so many trips like this with me that they’re pretty used to it. :)
Likes your posts as he see them on his feed and occasionally leaves a short comment like, “beautiful <3”
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagine#genshin scenario#genshin hcs#tighnari x reader#scaramouch x reader#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#xiao x reader#childe x reader#ajax x reader#tartaglia x reader#kaveh x reader#alhaitham x reader#zhongli x reader#sm au#genshin sm au
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Me: wow I’ve never been so alone in my life and everything is sad and my body is cold :,,(
*realizes I haven’t eaten in 10 hours*
Me: so anyways everything I’ve felt in the past hour and a half is fake
#vent#kinda a vent anyways. like I really was fucking IN IT for a bit there. but I’m just hungry lmao#anyways not an exaggeration or blown out of proportion but I really am the loneliest I’ve ever been! I don’t have friends to talk to every#day like I did in school. and I currently somewhat talk to like. 1 friend on here consistently :’) yea#pretty fucked up tbh. I used to talk to and interact with so many people. I noticed when I went back through my archive to tag posts#I am low key terrified to try and get close to friends again. something always goes wrong somewhere down the line. it’s practically#a pattern I recognize now. fucked up really. anyways what I have going on now isn’t following that pattern. and I’m putting every fiber of#my being towards not fucking up!! I’m scared to get close to people. what can I say#I will say I don’t feel. bad about this ig. not overly attached and not extremely distanced. I know how I am so this is good#mm. yeah. maybe I have some kind of trauma when it comes to friendships. idk. I’m usually good about being a decent human being and friend#I try at least. I’ve gotten better I hope. not perfect but. better#I wonder if they hate me. I acted out cus of my emotions and thoughts and feelings. and they hated it. so that must mean they hate me right?#I wish people would tell me when I do something wrong. or tell me the truth about how they feel. or why they do things. instead of silently#cutting me off and not telling me what I did. god fuck. I really need to eat this muffin before I start crying more Jesus. fuck.
1 note
·
View note
Text
next time / kento nanami/fem!reader.
who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.
tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.
wc: 7.7k.
a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this
also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest
mdni.
You’re a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you.
Although you’re both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didn’t think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times.
There were more bottles than glasses, lately.
It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often you’d reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you.
Tonight though, you’re not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.
You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him… when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short.
You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the man’s bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago.
In the quiet of Nanami’s living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice.
You know?
To which Nanami had replied, “No.”
Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. “Not one for one-night stands?”
It occurs to you distantly that you don’t know a lot about Nanami’s romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked.
Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldn’t imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance.
In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next.
“I’ve never had sex at all.”
Kento Nanami. A virgin.
The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years.
You look over at Nanami on the couch, but he’s staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.
It seems… ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A woman’s dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.
Had it not been for Nanami’s serious demeanour, and the fact that ‘joke’ and ‘Nanami’ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends.
But he wasn’t. He very clearly wasn’t.
“That’s… fine,” you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. “There’s no rush for these things.”
Nanami’s hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesn’t stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why he’s denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity.
You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite.
The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanami’s apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker.
A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise… it makes sense. Nanami wasn’t the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. He’d only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least.
And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasn’t alone in that choice, either.
You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud.
“You shouldn’t keep depriving yourself, Kento,” you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. It’s a small sign that you’re taking this seriously.
“I’m not deprived of anything.”
You scoff at that, small and quiet. “You deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,” you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanami’s masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. “I understand not wanting to have sex with anyone you’re not in a committed relationship with. It’s kind of… admirable, and definitely you.” You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. “But why deny yourself the chance of love?”
In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting ‘hypocrite’, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not.
He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. “And meaningless sex is different?”
You scoff again, louder this time. “It’s not meaningless just because I don’t love my partner.”
“Or even know their name?”
You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.
With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.
“You ever thought about it?” You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head.
“I’m only human.”
You hum. “You should experience it,” you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. “Even once. Even if it means nothing.”
With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesn’t sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected.
“I couldn’t,” Nanami replies, shaking his head.
Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasn’t.
It occurs to you quickly that you’re thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would.
Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what you’re about to ask.
“What about me?”
Nanami’s questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what you’re implying, but still, he asks, “…what about you?”
“What if we had sex?” You say without hesitation. “You know me. You trust me.”
Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.
His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch he’s sitting on.
You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesn’t move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response.
“I’m not going to push this any further, Kento,” you say quietly, “but I’m letting you know it’s an option.”
Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?
Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.
His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.
Something in the back of your mind is wondering why you’re pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five.
You were risking a friendship over… what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didn’t matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could.
Nanami’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.
When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes.
“We’re friends,” he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick.
“And we always will be,” you reply.
He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanami’s reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didn’t flinch.
You’re not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his.
“I… can’t,” Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “Not like this. Not… now.”
Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s denying you, or himself.
You smile softly nonetheless and nod. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space.
Only he doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly.
Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it.
“But I’d like to kiss you.”
Something resembling a very quiet ‘uh’ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.
You’re not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more… intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. You’re not sure why there’s a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.
“Nanam-“
As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away.
“I… don’t know why I said that,” he mumbles. “You should go-“
Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows.
Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanami’s shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air.
You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further.
Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together.
The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. It’s off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose.
The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet there’s a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it.
Enamoured with him.
You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours.
Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting.
Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanami’s tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadn’t thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble.
After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow.
He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one another’s. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat.
“Kento-“
“I want you,” he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. It’s a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But there’s a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you weren’t familiar with. Not from him.
His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour you’ve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same.
He’s trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck.
“I thought you didn’t want… this,” you murmur. ‘Sex’ suddenly feels too…
“I changed my mind,” he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly.
But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part.
And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder… you think, that like had changed to love.
It quickly occurs to you that you weren’t pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.
It’s that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanami’s eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh.
“I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position,” you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. “It’s your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think you’re missing out or depriving yourself.”
You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but there’s a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet.
He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression you’ve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation.
“I said I couldn’t have a one-night stand.”
You frown. “And th-“
“I don’t want this to be a one-night stand.”
Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. It’s soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.
You know what he’s trying to say, what he’s trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise you’ve wanted it for a long damn time.
Words fail you. They feel… inadequate to describe what you’re feeling, what you desire, what you’ve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma.
But you still can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet.
And neither can he.
You’re not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. It’s like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush.
His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that you’ve been dying to touch since… you don’t know when.
The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until you’re rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. He’s tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and it’s only distantly you register it’s because you’re pushing him back against it.
Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanami’s first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed.
But then Nanami’s hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, you’re straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips.
You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was.
Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there.
His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.
“We can stop, if you’d like,” you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.
“Don’t,” he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. “...I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place.
The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear.
Nanami didn’t want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasn’t with you?
The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his.
The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. “Don’t tease,” he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. “Not now, not after this long.”
“You think you’re the only one who waited?” You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you.
“…you wanted this too?” He breathes out after a moment.
You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. “Since you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.”
His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more.
He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate.
With a thick swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you.
“Please,” is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal.
You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead.
You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily.
“We should do this properly,” you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. “In a bed.”
Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. “We’ve waited long enough.”
You raise an eyebrow but don’t disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you can’t help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanami’s guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect.
“Nanami,” you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt he’s not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought.
He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. “Next time.” He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until you’re seated right on top of him. “Next time,” he repeats in a groan. “We’ll go slow. I’ll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just want…” He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. “I just want you.”
Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanami’s hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers.
You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. He’s nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so.
Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you don’t check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.
A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you.
Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees.
With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.
It’s longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue.
Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise you’ve been staring a touch too long.
You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man you’ve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed.
It’s endearing.
Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanami’s hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.
When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit.
“Fuck,” comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didn’t always curse, and especially not like that.
“Language, Nanami,” you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually weren’t one to tease, and he wasn’t one to be teased.
You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanami’s breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling he’d be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation.
It occurs to you that you’ve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed.
“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you ask, “with me on top?”
He nods but doesn’t open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. “It’ll be… easier for me- hah-“ Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanami’s hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move.
You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanami’s straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. It’s an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to.
“I won’t last,” he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.
You realise quickly that he’s actually asking a question. Are you sure?
“This time,” you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up.
As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. You’d love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face… but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps.
You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly.
You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment.
He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response.
Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. “Nanami,” you gasp.
“Kento,” he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. “You’re… so wet.”
The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact it’s him, here and now, makes up for it all.
You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this.
Despite toying with Nanami’s cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanami’s eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily.
Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you.
Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until you’re sick of the taste of him. You’d know he’d do the same.
But you two had waited long enough.
Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanami’s eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. You’re faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips.
Something flickers in Nanami’s gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s little more than teeth and raw need.
His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than you’re prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasn’t the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless.
So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise you’re breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had.
Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper.
You’re dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanami’s muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.
When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and it’s now you notice that you’re clenching around him so tight that you’re not sure if you’re causing him more discomfort than pleasure.
You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. You’re flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanami’s chest in response.
“Do you want me to stop or-“
“Don’t,” he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. “Don’t move.”
The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know he’s close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until he’s begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax.
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping.
“Tell me when you want me to move,” you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe.
He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. It’s a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, you’re rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now.
A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek.
You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.
“Fuck yes,” you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. “You feel so fucking good.”
He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. It’s still shallow, Nanami’s arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but you’re unwilling to part from the closeness for now.
You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face.
Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders.
You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanami’s next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together.
“S-Shit,” he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. “I’m not… I’m not going to last…” His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and you’re not even sure he realises. “… you’re so fucking… tight.”
The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isn’t lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze.
He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains.
“N-Next time - hah - next time… I want t-to feel you cum around me,” he pants, his arms starting to shake. “I’ll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-I’ll keep going until… until… God-“
He’s barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all he’s moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note you’ve never sounded like before. Not ever.
You’re getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way he’s looking at you… it’s pushing you there fast.
But it’s not quite enough.
“I’m close,” he gasps. “I… where…”
“Inside,” you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him it’s okay, you wouldn’t have taken him inside if you weren’t protected-
-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether.
With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. It’s deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound you’ve ever heard in your life.
He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. He’s giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldn’t be surprised to see bruises.
His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart.
Nanami doesn’t pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you.
After a moment, he finally swallows. “… I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… I should have made you-“
“Shut up,” you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. “Next time,” you add anyway, just to be sure.
He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks… so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated.
You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. “I don’t want this to…” His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. “I want you. Properly. I always have.” He swallows. “Always.”
Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably.
“You have me,” you murmur in reply, finally. “Properly.”
A small smile tugs at his lips, and it’s warmer than you’ve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. It’s as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly.
He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away.
For now, of course.
masterlist.
#nanami x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#kento nanami x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#nanami#kento nanami
941 notes
·
View notes
Text
im actually really fucking tired tbh
#i kinda hate how midterms are Right Before spring break#like this time of the semester is usually when i start flagging so its unfortunate that it happens when all my professors decide to dump pro#projects on us#like can you fucking beieve i havr three midterm paintings#like girl what#granted one of them is an in class painting but god damn?#im debating on just not doing the glaze painting agian this time lmao#thats the fucking devil talking tho#michi tag
0 notes
Text
CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)
Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282
The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes
Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers
<3<3<3<3<3<3
Your new boss seemed stressed.
Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.
You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh.
Right over his head.
He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring.
He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you.
“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”
“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”
God, but you wanted to be.
He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”
His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”
“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”
Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.
You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.
“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.
The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.
You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.
He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.
Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.
You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.
You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of.
You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.
As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”
You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”
He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”
“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”
“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”
You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.
“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.
A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”
“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”
You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”
He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”
You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.
You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”
You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him.
After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.
Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed Val coming into a room.
There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants.
Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.
“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”
This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”
“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.
You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.
“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”
One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”
“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.
His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.
“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”
“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.
“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?
He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.
“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.
Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.
“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.
With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with.
“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“
“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.
“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“
Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach.
It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.
“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”
He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”
“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“
“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”
“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”
The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.
720 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)
I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!
angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)
____
The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.
“Who are you?”
The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.
“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”
“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”
“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”
She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.
You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.
Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.
It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.
“It’s lukewarm.”
“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”
You wave your hand dismissively.
“No need. You’re fired.”
The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.
“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”
“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”
She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.
“Please! Please, I need this!”
You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.
Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.
“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”
Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.
“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”
“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”
“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”
You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.
You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall. Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.
“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”
“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”
“Still?”
The tension in the air is palpable.
“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”
“So they’re cooking the books?”
“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”
“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”
The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.
“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”
A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.
“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”
“It’s just—”
“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”
Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.
You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”
That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.
It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.
___
The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.
“Y/N! Long time no see!”
You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).
Yup. A typical day.
Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.
“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.
“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”
You keep your smile through gritted teeth.
“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”
“I’m sure.”
The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.
“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”
“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.
“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”
“Sounds good sir.”
What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.
So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.
“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”
“What type of technology are we talking?”
“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”
You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.
“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”
“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”
“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”
He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.
Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.
Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.
“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”
You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.
“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”
You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.
“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”
You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.
“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”
“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”
Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.
“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”
So you hold your breath and swipe.
And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.
This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.
Holy fuck.
“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”
Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.
“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”
“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”
You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.
Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.
“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”
There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.
“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”
Shit. He got you. Checkmate.
The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.
“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”
You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.
“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.
“Excuse me?!”
“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”
It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.
You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.
“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”
___
The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.
It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.
“This is where you’ll be staying.”
You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.
“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”
He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
No response.
“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”
Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.
“I’m hungry Miss.”
It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.
That’s when the realization hits you.
If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.
It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.
You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.
“Eat up.”
With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.
And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.
____
A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
hiphopdominicano
@HipHopDominicano
janda-imuet
Janda_berair
yuzu-all-the-way
floored by that figure skater dude
anarchical-blog1
you'll be okay; i'll make sure of it.
ask-2p-facefam-archive
One Happy Family