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#i do love all the other arcs too of course

writingquestionsanswered · 2 days

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i’m currently writing a story where the OC starts to develop a love interest with Person A, but longer the story runs the OC falls in love with Person B.

Set up is in a dystopian world

How do i write so the readers don’t fall to deep with Person A x OC relationship? or is better for the readers to pick side? How do i make the romance story/plot seamless for the transition of relationship?

A+B < A+C Love Triangle

The key to making a A+B < A+C love triangle work is to make sure you do two things simultaneously:

1 - Ramp Down (or End) the A+B Leg

Before A and C can really ramp up, you have to address what changed in the relationship with B that made the shift in interest and affection possible. This could be a slow roll, like growing apart or a gradual misalignment of beliefs/goals. Or, it could be a sudden split, like B dying, leaving, or the relationship falling apart.

2 - Ramp Up the A+C Leg

From the moment A and C first interact, you'll want to start slowly ramping up their interactions by building their friendship, deepening their bond, and increasing their romantic interest and romantic tension. (See: Guide: Characters Falling in Love, Guide: Writing a Slow Burn Romance, The Subtle Signs of Romantic Interest and Love, Transitioning Through Levels of Affection)

Key elements to pay attention to:

-- What barrier kept these two apart initially? If A met C after they were already involved with B, that's an instant barrier. But, if they met at the same time, what kept A from initially falling in love with C rather than B?

-- What changed and why? If A and B parting ways, or A and C falling in love is the result of someone or something changing, what changed and why did it change?

-- How do these relationships tie into arc and theme? Characters usually grow or change over the course of the story, usually as a direct result of the things they experience because of the events of the story. So, how does character growth/change affect the rise of A+C and the fall of A+B, and how is character growth/change affected by the rise of A+C and the fall of A+B? How do these relationships tie into the story's themes, and how do the themes affect the relationships and where they go?

Other things you can do to help readers get on board with A+C:

Although you can't guarantee all of your readers will jump the A+B ship in favor of the A+C ship, there are things you can do to encourage that choice.

#1 - Make sure A is their best, happiest self when they're with C. Which is not to say they should NEED C in order to be happy/their best self. They should be that on their own, too. This is simply to say that they should not be lesser version of themselves when they're with C. Because if they were bubbly, happy, and confident with B, but grumpy, tired, and often depressed with C, that's not going to win anyone over to the A+C leg of the triangle.

#2 - Choose either a conciliatory or villainous exit for B. While it's essential to make a good argument for A to be with C instead of B, you'll have better luck convincing the readers to bail on B if they can see that B is okay... that getting out of the relationship was good for them, too... or if they can see that B wasn't deserving of A's love in the first place.

#3 - Make sure C is a worthy recipient of A's affection. If B is a kind, smart, well adjusted person and caring/supportive of A, but C is kind of a dull-minded jerk who has a lot of problems and isn't very kind to or supportive of A, that's not going to win anyone to C's side.

#4 - Make sure you create better romantic chemistry between A and C. If A and B are together at the start of the story, you can start them off with flat or low fizz chemistry. That way, if you create better chemistry between A and C, the reader will root for that leg over the leg with less chemistry.

#5 - Create a better future for A with C than with B. "Better" is obviously subjective, depending on your story and characters, but ultimately you don't want the reader to think A would have a better future if they stayed with B versus ending up with C.

Bonus: this one might not apply depending on what you're writing, but I would say * most * of the time, you want to avoid having any sort of infidelity on A's behalf as things ramp up between them and C. Again, it depends on what you're writing... some spicier stories have intentional affair story lines. But again, most of the time you'd want to avoid that. Not only do you not want to make A and C look bad, but you don't want to sully their relationship with infidelity. It also swings sympathy over to B, which doesn't exactly make C more appealing.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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missycolorful · 20 hours

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omgg, i saw a few posts about the glass child stuff but never really got too into it bc i felt like they were always missing something. i wasn't really sure what that was until i saw your post, where you mentioned lullahs abandonment issues, and everything just clicked. it just all makes sense now bc i know one of the biggest proponents to the "chays STILL a glass child" is qphils seemingly continuing to prioritize lullah over chay, when looking back at most of said moments it does feel more like a dad making sure the child who was abandoned doesnt feel like that ever again. i also feel like some of the issues come with qphils falling into habits, lullah hasn't really needed extra help in a while, but i don't feel as if that notion has fully into qphils mind yet. i would just love if both lullah and chay got one on one time with qphil bc i love them together, but i think each of them often times holds something back for the others' sake, y'know? lullah and bads and/or chay and tubbos recent solo hangouts kinda showcase the difference in dynamic. anyways, tl;dr you have amazing insight and an attention to detail that i, and i feel like a majority of others, missed out on, and i would love to see more character analysis/insights done by you, if you're interested of course!

oh my goodness, thank you you're far too kind, haha!! 😭

yeah, tbh, I'm kinda surprised that part of Phil's reasoning was either not considered or even ignored. When he mentioned them "being alone," Tallulah's abandonment issues instantly came to mind; it's a huge part of her arc, y'know? So, yeah I can't see this as him accommodating Lullah's disabilities while disregarding Chay; rather, it was him thinking about her literal trauma. If it were switched (Chay had these issues, not Lullah), Phil would go for him in a heartbeat. Why people spun it as "he wasn't worried about Chay" is wild to me.

i also feel like some of the issues come with qphils falling into habits,

mhhm, that's about the crux of it. Yes, q!Phil has trained Tallulah in PVP , and neither he nor Chay recently hover over her during pvp, but when it comes to adjusting to how much his kids have changed, we're still getting there. And not just cuz of, like I said, being separated during Purgatory makes it hard for Phil to grasp what they went through. But bc he himself isn't quite in tune with his own emotions/trauma. It's a detriment to helping his children and growing as a parent, and is part of his own character growth that he is surely yet steadily going through.

And YES! I'd LOVE for the kids to have one-on-ones with Philza. They usually come in pairs, which y'know, is what makes a lot of these issues so difficult. The kids don't have time to be alone with their father, bc they're typically online with him at the same time. I crave that sole father/son bonding, not just bc they need it, but because I love their dynamic so much <3

tbh, i usually limit my character analysis to my main POV, sometimes others if I feel confident enough (i.e. Missa, Baghera). Last thing I wanna do is write analysis that does injustice to a character - any cc!phil fan knows this pain, both in this fandom and others lol! and also some characters I'm admittedly… kinda scared to talk about bc some fans get uber defensive if you talk about any of their negative traits; all fanbases have people like this, of course, crows are NO exception, but this one specifically just… I'd need to be prompted to discuss this character whom I won't specify haha. regardless, if you or anyone else ever wants to ask about my insights on qsmp characters, whether q!Phil or others, I'm more than willing to at least give it a try. thank you again! :)

#qsmp #philza #tallulah #chayanne #qsmp meta #missy rambles #anon ask #thank you i really enjoy these in depth talks truly :)

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bumblingbabooshka · 3 days

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I’m fascinated by the previous ask’s mention of anime “or the Vulcan equivalent” since anime is literally just Japanese animation would Vulcan animation have a distinctive enough style to warrant a distinct name? What is the Vulcan cultures’ views on animation as an art form (in your opinion).

I don't know enough about animation or art as like an evolving discipline as it relates to society/culture to say much about it in an intelligent way but the newest Dungeon Meshi Extra makes me think about it in a purely 'what would be fun' way

Vulcans also have an incredibly long lifespan so it'd be funny if Vulcans were used to listening to stories that are much longer than other species. [See: Tuvok singing his children a 348 verse story as a lullaby and his children loving it]

You know those soap operas that go on for like decades? Vulcan soap operas are going on for CENTURIES.

I think a lot of the most popular stories on Vulcan center around enlightment or war. In fact I think a lot of Vulcan is probably dedicated to those topics - I headcanon that there are multiple museums and monuments about the many wars Vulcan fought with a heavy emphasis on the great toll it took on their people and how awful these actions were. They almost blew up everything with nukes! But then logic saved them...I believe this is also a common thread in stories that aren't about war - being saved by logic. A woman almost falls for charlatan...but logic saves her. A man almost kills his brother...but logic stills his hand. Etc Etc. A Vulcan author could probably write thousands of books in their lifetime, depending on the age they started. I think having an author with hundreds of books is fairly common and Vulcans are often a bit anxious about reading very good authors of other species...what if they die before they finish writing?? Television shows having like 40 seasons isn't that rare and I think their method of storytelling would probably have to differ from ours in order to facilitate that. That's interesting, isn't it?? I wonder about Vulcan media that isn't Surak's teachings. Like, Tuvok says he likes to read - what's he read about? In 'Riddles' Neelix mentions a "Proto-Vulcan Drama" called 'Clash on the Fire Plains' which has 23 parts. Tuvok apparently has this in book form in his quarters but he's often reading things off his PADD which I assume are also Vulcan literature. It seems that a lot of Vulcan stories we hear about are meant to teach some sort of lesson even if they are also entertaining. When it comes to ongoing media (EX: Television show) I think they'd probably follow a series of arcs and situations with the same characters learning and growing. If you start watching season 82 of a Vulcan program then go back to season 7 it's like a whole new set of characters but they just changed because of their experiences. (As your Vulcan friend will rant to you). It gets a bit ridiculous but it's a bit fun too~ I headcanon that Vulcans in Starfleet will often get together to watch popular Vulcan tv shows' new episodes...alleviates some missing home. Others join in and soon we're seeing tv shows from all over the universe! Surprisingly, Vulcan and Klingon programs are fairly similar in the aspect of 'a lot of battle focused shows which teach lessons' but the exact lessons differ, of course. Oh I bet Vulcan tv shows would also have so much intrigue and drama about clans and marriage and propriety etc which Klingons would love. Klingon: So T'Eyanra is going off with Sarun? Even though she was made aware that Sertik is ill and might be plagued with fever? Vulcan: Yes. And do not forget - Sarun's clan changed the water rights of her own, though she does not know this yet. Klingon: -settling in- Sarun's clan is without honor! That knave... -gasp- and the Ektinslahrah ritual is tonight! Vulcan: -also settling in- Indeed. Oh god this was about anime wasn't it? Well just apply all that stuff I said to anime somehow...Vulcan anime is like one piece's length and death note's complexity but with a shocking amount of painstaking slice of life. I think animation would be taken as seriously on Vulcan as it is on Earth - I can't think of anything that'd make them take it more or less seriously? I picture Betazoid animation would have a heavy emphasis on showing feeling though - like visibly as an ever present cloud behind the characters' heads and you have to know what all the colors mean.

#Q&A #Vulcans #liquidink21 #This was a fun ask & even though I sorta went off topic I hope you enjoyed~!!#star trek needs to stop making 'save the world' plots and START showing Vanime and Klingon Soap Operas!!!#Let me see the daily lives of these aliens!!#Klingons do NOT keep their characters around they kill those babies left and right BUT a lot of characters will be related #so you'll have Krath son of Modul in season 8 who's father's brother's cousin's cousin's sister's husband was in season 2 #and he's here to avenge that death - so WATCH OUT #<- This show takes place in an office #it's easier to remember how a character died and how they were avenged than it is to remember what they did in life #a lot of the time

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iicarused · 3 months

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##my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife

y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint

part ii

synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)

beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!

he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.

through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.

after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question

there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel

you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.

since then, vox has been searching for you:

“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”

“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.

but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.

to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel

picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips

you used to smile at him just like that

in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!

from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.

“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.

you never answered to his pleas.

“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.

you turned to face away.

“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.

a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.

vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.

#ᥫ᭡.#yandere!vox #vox x reader #vox x yn #vox x you #vox imagine #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader if you squint

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angelltheninth · 8 months

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Lovesick Jujutsu Kaisen Characters

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Gojo, Nanami, Geto x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, dating, pining, confessions, teasing, gift giving, shopping, quality time, protectiveness, clothes sharing, possessiveness

A/N: I'm really excited for this arc! I heard it's awesome!

Lovesick!Yuuji is the cutest guy he could be. He's all big smiles, falling over his words, acting big and protective and at the same time so soft when you thank him or compliment him. He takes you on a date and doesn't even know it until you kiss him. If he could shout out his happiness he would, he wants everyone to know you're dating. By the next day most of his friends do.

Lovesick!Sukuna would never act in such a way if it's obvious. He will get the scary kind of lovesick, hovering over your shoulder, scaring away everyone else, leaving bites on your skin with beaming pride. There's no way that he would be in love with someone and not mark them as his, it doesn't matter if you know about his feelings, in his mind you're already his.

Lovesick!Megumi pines from a distance, looking at you with puppydog eyes for a good long while before making a very calculated confession. There's no room for error... so of course things go wrong. You don't mind as long you're having a good time with him, and he should really learn to loosen up. Maybe now he finally can, now that he's no longer hiding his feelings for you.

Lovesick!Nobara takes you shopping for clothes just like always. Almost like always. This time she keeps going on and on about how cute you'd look in matching clothes. You definitely have to buy matching shirts, those really big ones. Now that you're a couple she wants to show it in so many ways, and fashion is one of them.

Lovesick!Maki wants to be with you all the time, look at you, hug you, kiss you. So much of practice is spent with her flirting with you, complimenting you and saying what a good team you make. Outside of training she invites you to get food, but then you take it to go and eat it over at hers. Of course you can spend the night too, feel free to take some of her clothes to sleep in. She never lends her clothes to anyone but it looks too good on you for her to say no.

Lovesick!Gojo talks your ear off with compliments. And teasing there is a whole lot of that once he notices how you react to his words. His heart grows a hundred sizes when he makes you blush, it's too good, he has to make it happen as much as possible. It makes him so happy. Except one of his attempts end in your confession. He was hoping for that, now he doesn't have to pretend it's just teasing anymore, and he can kiss you every time he sees you.

Lovesick!Nanami buys you a lot of gifts. He doesn't talk to people unless he really likes them, or pays attention to them, let alone brings gifts to them. At first you think he's messing with you but then you see him smile when you accept his gift. Damn, he's being serious here isn't he? Next time you bring him a gift too and let him know you want to date.

Lovesick!Geto thinks it can't happen to him, that he makes other lovesick and he doesn't even know it's happening. He gradually begins to get more protective, looking forward to seeing your face, spending time with you. Kissing his cheek made his heart flutter... oh... oh no... he's falling for you! No, he's already fallen. In that case there's no turning back, he has to see where this goes and make you fall just as hard, no even harder.

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kiramarien · 5 months

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If I got a nickel every time a cartoon I love

based on a book

based on mythology

about a teenage boy

who stumbles upon an ancient artifact that gives him powers

that's being sought by this cocky guy with daddy issues

who's right arm is mechanical some of the time

and his Dad is this massive guy with big horns (and sometimes glowy blue eye(s))

who's being manipulated by a powerful woman

that he freed from her centuries old prison

who may have had noble ambitions in the past, but now has been consumed by power

and the woman possesses a young girl in order to get what she wants

and sacrifices the lives of her minions in order to unleash her ultimate weapon ->

(Dozens of Gum Gums) (Spider Queen, Huntsman, Syntax, Goliath, Not- Mayor) You know what I'm talking about :(

and she's got this indentured servant *cough Slave cough* (with pretty gold eyes 😘)

who she refers to as "Her Champion"

who travels using shadows (I could not find a single picture of Angor Rot using his shadow staff)

who was really sweet and kind in his past but then... well... stuff happened

and has lost his right eye

and he's been killed before

but the big bad restores him back to life so she can use him

and he gets a redemption arc at the end of season three

and the main character doesn't have a bio Dad, but he attracts plenty of father figures throughout the course of the show

and he gains a non-human form that makes him even more powerful

and him and the others gain an armor upgrade at the same time

and the girl of the team has short black hair with dyed stripes

and you know the guy with daddy issues who wanted to steal his artifact in the beginning? He becomes one of the protagonist's closest friends

and there's this gentle giant character

who becomes one of my most beloved characters of all time 💕💕💕

and he has a history of violence and trauma

and has now vowed to be a devote pacifist

but breaks his vow in order to protect the people he loves (with angry glowy eyes to boot)

and has a deep love for cats (yes, I did just do that)

...then I would have two nickels.

Which isn't very much, but it's weird that it happened twice, right?

(That last drawing was made by @jezfez81. Thank you for letting me use it!)

What the heck happened?!?! This was just supposed to be a comparison between Sandy and AAARRRGGHH!!! Where did all these comparisons come from?!?!?!?!?! WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!?

(this took way too long to make, please give it some love :3 )

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marigoldenblooms · 1 month

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An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint.

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again! Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were.

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad.

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long, And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date.

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam.

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?”

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

------------------------------------------

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces.

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat.

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?”

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat.

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer.

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that.

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-”

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it.

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again.

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?”

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk.

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.”

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes.

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

#bearrrwrites #minors dni #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda smut #dom!wanda #sub!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #college au #one shot #smut fic #wlw ns/fw #god why was this so hard #once again #fuck it we ball

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tender-rosiey · 1 year

Note

aww nanami’s daughter who’s very possessive of her mama is so cute she definitely got it from her dad need more of her

sneaky lovey — nanami kento x f!reader

your daughter was kind of mischievous. you don’t know where did she get it from, but you have a feeling that it’s from her uncle gojo whom she has spent a lot of her weekends with.

it’s cute really, especially when she seems to be driving her dad crazy with her little pranks. after all of that, he still loves her, of course, but he hopes that she would understand that his stress levels don’t need to be any higher.

he also hopes that she learns how to share, especially share your attention and affection.

nanami is a mature man, so he can’t help but let her hog you all to herself whenever she goes, “daddy! I want mommy! that’s enough time for you.”

and who is he to deny her your love?

but in the end, he still is a man who is so very in love you and naturally craves your attention as well.

that leads to you guys to trying to sneak a few kisses here and there along with a bunch of hugs like a couple of teenagers in love.

you find it funny.

the way that your husband awaits any moment that your daughter isn’t there to press a kiss to your lips and have his arms around you.

he looks like a baby that had his toy taken away for way too long and it is so cute. you don’t mind voicing that out and you laugh softly when he sighs about how he just wants time with you.

on the other hand, he doesn’t find it funny.

one moment, he is kissing you and the other you’re being dragged by your daughter to draw with her.

she can not for the life of her let her dad get a second with his beautiful wife.

another example is when one day, you had sent her to her uncle gojo cause she had missed him.

nanami was low-key over the moon and refused to leave your side, leaving kisses on your hand, cheek, and forehead whenever given the chance.

“kento, you’re pretty affectionate today.”

“mm, just missed you, love.”

it was utter bliss, especially when you guys got to cuddling and reading a book together.

and don’t get him wrong, he loves his daughter very much, but he also loves you and it was finally his y/n time.

he enjoyed while it lasted which wasn’t enough to him but like nanami you spent at least 9 hours together what.

the little miss stole you for herself the moment she came home.

she also invited you both for tea in her little toy house, but had nanami put on make up, a crown, and a skirt and go drink tea alone in a corner.

when he asked her why, she just went, “you’re supposed to be the pretty maid so wait until you get ‘i am becoming a princess’ arc.”

the arc never came.

another thing is that nanami finds it bizarre that you wonder where the hell did her mischief come from.

there is no way that it isn’t innate and it is obvious when he looks at both of you, particularly right now.

these smirks and puffed out chests of pride and your shared giggles are full-proof. you had just done a harmless prank on your poor husband and he just stared at you both, unable to form a response to this bullying anymore.

“(d/n), i need to talk to mommy about something so that okay?”

“oh okay! good luck, mommy!”

oh that traitor. probably learned it from uncle gojo.

“y/n.”

“yes, my dear and handsome husband?” you say in hopes in flattering him.

he gets up and stands right in front of you. he looks at you, “what was so funny about putting a gojo-patterned tie in my closet?”

you nearly bend over laughing when you recall what you did, but you compose yourself.

your husband isn’t pleased.

“you will have to repay me for that,” he says and you pout.

“how exactly will I do that, my lovely kento?”

he takes a hold of your hand and takes you to the bedroom with a smile, “an uninterrupted night with me.”

you chuckle and ask, “cuddles and kisses?”

“and more if you want; I am all yours.”

in the end, nanami feels and knows that he will never want you guys to stop how you fill his life with colors and laughter.

“haha! dad, I drew on your face!”

or maybe he wishes it would be toned down a bit.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny

do not copy or plagiarize or i will bite you

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catopoliscat · 30 days

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

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vashtijoy · 1 month

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have you seen the commentary from the p5r artbook going around? the shuake part of my dash is losing it a bit at the implication that their wishes were mutual!!! that seems to be what some people are getting from the commentary at least… amy insights?

Hi! I have been through the artbook. It's great, isn't it? :D

The image above is called "One Ending", and the creator caption (by illustrator Akane Kabayashi) reads:

When I think about how Akechi's wish was to play chess after school with the protagonist, I almost want to call him out with "You liked him after all, didn't you!"

Look at that. We're told about Akechi's wish, and what it included. We're as good as told outright that he likes Joker—and this isn't the only time, there's also this:

—There are a whole lot of things we can imagine, based on how the protagonist was depicted as someone special to Akechi. Those are more or less the exact emotions represented during Akechi's confidant. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

"someone special" here is 特別な存在 tokubetsuna sonzai—literally "a special presence". It means a special person, and more than that; it describes someone you find compelling, someone you can't look away from, someone who becomes one of your most important people, the centre of your world. It's another term that is often romantic, but isn't necessarily romantic.

(In the same way, I think Kabayashi's suki jan! is more tongue-in-cheek than it is a cast-iron confirmation that Akechi was canonly in love with Joker. The language there is teasing, it's ambiguous, it's baity; Kabayashi is joking. This is a rank 6—as they say, if you know, you know. But it is of course ultimately up to all of you.)

There's another mention of this image, down in the creator interview:

Out of all the Maruki ending illustrations, it was Akechi's that stuck with me the most. It made such an impression to see them opening up as friends, having a fun, peaceful time together like high school students should. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

What really strikes me in all of this is the emphasis the creators put on the fact that this is Akechi's illustration, Akechi's wish. Because I've thought for a while that we know Akechi has a wish. You can see him struggling with his refusals to Maruki in the first week of January. And you can hear his wish spoken—when Maruki repeats it back to him, during the boss fight, on 2/3:

Maruki {F1 81}君たちとなら、君も過ちのない道を歩めるかも知れないじゃないか！ {F1 81}-kun-tachi to nara, kimi mo ayamachi no nai michi o ayumeru kamoshirenai ja nai ka! If you're with {F1 81}―kun and his friends, you could begin to atone for what you've done! Think about it! With [Amamiya]-kun and his friends beside you, you could choose a path with no mistakes as well!

So this wish has several parts. First, there's that kimi mo, "you also"; it's tempting to read this as Maruki also wanting his new world to erase his past mistakes. Second, there's the first part, "if you're with [Amamiya]-kun and his friends". Where to even start here?

Being with Joker and the others is a prerequisite for the second half of Akechi's wish. It doesn't just coexist, it enables the rest of it. Just like his words in the engine room, "I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier, [Ren]..."

Remember, Akechi's whole arc is about his rejection of trust and friendship, and his insistence on doing everything himself. This is precisely what Futaba calls him out on—"you trusted no one", or "you played life in single-player mode". This is what he unlearns at the climax of the engine room, when he realises he isn't prepared to let the others die—and follows through to save them.

Akechi is nothing without others, and he knows it. Without their support, which he believes he has no right to, he has no hope of living a better life, even were he to be given the chance—and he knows that, too. He has learned, and he has grown—and yet he knows the things he needs and wants so badly are forever inaccessible.

And his wish is about all the Phantom Thieves, not just Joker. There are many tiny references to this end—not least the original Japanese rank 10 line for his confidant, where he sacrifices himself for all of you. Joker is his compelling presence, his someone special, but he's formed small bonds with the others too, God help him.

and then there's the crime thing

The localisation frames Akechi's wish in terms of atonement, but that's not what's on offer. You cannot, after all, atone for things you never did. We see Akechi's wish put into practice, in the Maruki ending, where he appears with his friends beside him, wholly innocent and with unstained hands. And we see it in the first week of January, after he has finally met Maruki and spoken to him:

Akechi: Ah, that reminds me—there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. Akechi: About the reality Maruki's put us in... Akechi: It seems that Okumura and Wakaba are both considered alive by all accounts. [Ren: They're not dead anymore? / What do you mean?] Akechi: They aren't mere illusions, or cognitive beings—they truly are alive and existing in this world. Akechi: In fact, their deaths seem to have never taken place at all in this reality. [Ren: What happened to Shido?] Akechi: Shido was the only one arrested on the crime of attempting to overthrow the government... Akechi: It seems the Phantom Thieves were causing a stir in this society as well, but there's no record of your arrest now. Akechi: Basically, in this reality, you and I haven't committed any crimes.

While Akechi still remembers his crimes, they never took place. They have been undone, and only his lingering memory—and Joker's, at this point—speaks to them. He objects to this on countless levels, he summons all the strength he has to refuse it, but don't make the mistake of thinking that means he doesn't want it. This is Akechi's wish in action.

People are often very certain that Akechi's resolve in the third semester is like iron—that he rejects Maruki's offers right away, is never tempted, never wavers. But that can't be true. We know he's afraid to die. We know about the bad end where you don't complete the Palace, where Akechi says nothing and stares at the floor, seemingly blaming himself internally while all the others blame themselves aloud, for being unable to say no to Maruki's temptations. We know how he responds to this assertion of Maruki's—Maruki, who has perfectly summed up what we know all the other PTs wanted, and who (even if Word of God hadn't just confirmed Akechi's wish) we have, honestly, no reason to doubt.

Because Akechi never refutes this wish that Maruki describes. He never says he doesn't want it. He just rejects it—like all the others, who so desperately want what Maruki could give them. Futaba's mother, Haru's father. Akechi's life, and his innocence. And the people who might have been his friends, if he could dare, one day, to ask.

Akechi is tested just like the others, and the price he pays for his defiance is perhaps the highest of all.

and finally

[The Maruki ending illustrations are] of Maruki's world, where everyone's wishes are granted and they seem happy. The scene shows their actualised wishes, which were never granted in the real world. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

We shouldn't forget the price Akechi pays for his impossible wish. Sure, the vision of himself being altered like Sumire clearly haunts him, and I'm sure it made the choice easier—but I don't think it made it that easy. Instead of taking the dream Maruki offered him, Akechi chose to face up to what he'd done, and who he'd become; at the very end, in the third semester and in the engine room, he always makes the right choice.

And that choice was taken away from him. Agency over his life and death, his own acts, and who he would even be—Joker and Maruki take it all away from him and make him a puppet, just like Shido.

Maruki's ending isn't pretty.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/03/29)—first published.

#asks #persona 5 #p5 meta #things i translate #japanese language #word of god #shuake #goro akechi #takuto maruki

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krashlite · 3 months

Text

Anyways my hot take abt the cheater’s arc is that all four of them were in the wrong but it was mostly Grian’s fault things went so horrendously since man was the reason why the actual Cheating part of the cheater’s arc happened (characters, obviously)

But yeah here’s how they were all wrong yes

Grian was being incredibly controlling because he didn’t trust Scar to keep them safe. Man was scared of his own damn shadow for a lot of this, but his way of ensuring his own safety was basically to tell Scar to stand in one place and not move. He pretty much disregarded the fact that Scar is a grown man capable of making his own decisions And capable of keeping himself, and the both of them, alive. The fact that they were last on green doesn’t reassure him, only confirms that he is in the right for being so controlling. He thinks his behavior kept them alive. He only loosens up once they hit their red life since at that point danger is assumed. Grian DOES NOT learn to respect Scar here, just puts his paranoia on hold for another day. His conclusion is that he was right and Scar was unreasonable

Scar was pushing back against said control since he knew it was unfounded. Again, he’s a grown man capable of making his own decisions. He has a tendency to mock people to show when they’re being ridiculous, something he does here through being purposefully careless. It’s both to point out how ridiculous Grian’s being and a way to punish him for being so obsessive. Instead of having the intended effect, Scar just pushes Grian further away. He later winds up just following everything Grian says, which doesn’t address the root of the problem here. Except he has no way of knowing what’s wrong because Grian doesn’t tell him. From his perspective, the only thing that got Grian back at his side was murder- since the only times they actually stood on equal footing was when there was a plan for a kill or when that plan went well. Scar’s conclusion here isn’t that he was unsafe, but that he was boring. So it reaffirms that he’s in the right and Grian was being unreasonable

BigB is not and never was the mistress in this situation. Had Grian never approached him, he would’ve never left Ren. He was using his Secret Soulmate as an escape from normal relationship problems he was too scared to address. BigB mainly felt overlooked because he has a quieter personality than Ren, meaning Ren wound up making most decisions for the two of them. BigB did a lot to mirror Ren and to be Ren’s other half, but didn’t give himself space to be his own person in the relationship. This is something that’s brought up in couple’s counseling and something they at least started to address before dying. BigB never intended to hurt either of them, since he did love and value both Ren and Grian- something that’s affirmed by how he talks to them after dying. BigB and Ren talk about how they stayed together until the end and B takes the time to forgive Grian for murdering both him and his soulmate

Ren was doing his best to keep Box afloat but failed to meet BigB’s needs. Since B wouldn’t communicate what was wrong, Ren kept trying to course correct in ways that inadvertently made the situation worse. Ren’s instinct is to be protective- to find an enemy to defend against. That enemy was first Pearl and then Clockduo when Bdubs inadvertently got BigB killed. He also reacted to news of B cheating by distancing himself from BigB. Which, reasonable!! Ren wasn’t obligated to save them if B was the one who left. However, this action only pushed BigB away since Ren was so quick to assume they were over. Ren has a habit of isolating himself when something’s wrong, assuming the worst of a situation when things can be fixed. It worked out between him and BigB in the end but goddamn was that rough

Anyways the four of them are very!! Very messy, I love them dearly

#anyways that’s my armchair therapist take on them #I’ll shut up abt this arc I prommy #grian #bigbst4tz2 #rendog #goodtimeswithscar #trafficblr #trafficshipping #they make me crazy #it’s 2 in the AM take my keyboard away from me

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