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blood-smiles · 1 month ago

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𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖˚ ༘ 🌱⋆｡˚

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐂𝐎𝐖/𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 . MDNI . TW// Naked man . Yandere . Suggestive? . Darling is breastfed by yandere. Male lactation . Forced affection

𝐒weat dribbled down your forehead, your scratchy sleeve running across your skin hastily before any sweat got into your eyes.

The hay bale in your arms irritated your forearms but you pushed through, throwing it inside the loft of your classic red barn.

The horses neighed, a little greeting for you, making little circles in their stalls as if brimming with energy.

You mustered a smile, trying to ignore the aching pain at your temples. Your head felt like a watermelon wrapped in rubber bands, about to explode at any moment.

You turned, exiting out the other end of your barn, picking up a tin bucket and kneeling in front of your large collection of flora.

You grumbled as you picked fat caterpillars off your Bougainvillea and unceremoniously tossed into a bin.

A deep frown marred your face as you looked at the various bite shaped holes in the leaves of your pretty flowers.

You sent a scorching glare to the bucket full of caterpillars.

“You handful of bastards better be grateful I’m not feeding you to the barn cat..” you hissed, voice filled with genuine resentment.

The loud thunk of a truck made you jump out of your shoes, accidentally dropping the bucket, the caterpillars flying into the luscious green grass.

You bit back a groan, knowing you would have to pick out the little creatures by hand later.

You lifted your head, peeking at the men in white lab coats, who were throwing something extremely large into a pile of dirt near your house.

Now what the hell? They have no right to be dumping their shit in your backyard! Not after you had busted your lower back to keep it clean!

You were about to stomp over and throw some hands, however the men got into their high tech van and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

You coughed as you approached the garbage site, seeing if there was anything to loot off of.

It looked like there was something massive swaddled tightly in styrofoam wrap.

You prodded the cocoon with the tip of your timber, you let out a small scream as it pulsated under your foot.

You jumped back in fright as the thing inside started moving even more, all out of the sudden, a muffled voice yelled.

You raised your brows, a person? Was a person wrapped in that? You could just stand by and act as if nothing happened but.. cleaning the mess up would be annoying.

You scrambled to dig your nails inside the wrapping and pulled as hard as you could, ripping the tough material to shreds.

You fell back to the ground, a large, naked man emerging from the dirt, styrofoam doing a horrible job of covering up his.. bits.

You kept your eyes up.. sorta, his well endowed chest was the first thing that popped out to you. Quite literally, it had its own shadow and everything, they were definitely bigger than yours.

He was tall, taller than any creature or human you had ever seen in your life.

You painstakingly tore your eyes away from his chest, mourning the loss of titties.

You scanned his head, his hair was light blonde with brunette highlights, curling towards his face at the slightly curly tips, a curl of hair covering his left eye.

His skin was tan with patches of lighter skin, resembling the spots of a cow.

A golden nose ring gleamed under the sunlight, you just barely noticed the stubs of horns on his head, along side the blonde cow ears.

..Wait hold on a minute, ears and horns? What in the nudist cosplay is this?

The man tilted his head, his ears flicking as he followed you movements, like a baby bird mimicking its mother’s actions.

You didn’t stick around a moment more as you watched the strange male’s strangely beautiful face light up with wonder.

“Master!” He lunged. Missing you only by a hair, you swore you felt his thick fingers tickling your back.

“Stop following me! I am not your master!!” You hollered, speeding up your pace as you tried to jump over the fence of your barn.

“Wrong!” He giggled, strong arms stretching out to grab you, making sure to take victory this time.

“(Y/N)!~” he called out sweetly, opening and closing his hands, resembling of a toddler demanding uppies.

“HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!?!” You never got an answer, simply a jolly laugh.

You ran around for 40 minutes.

And the strange bull cow hybrid didn’t stop, he wasn’t even breaking a sweat, it wasn’t very long until you dropped on the ground.

The man plopped down behind you, grabbing you by your armpits like he would hold a cat. Only to begin having a cuddling session, he didn’t let you go.

You begged him to let you breathe, but he had gotten too attached to let you go, at one point you had decided to take the drastic measure to bite his arm,

Which was a failure.

Because he let out the most pornographic moan you had ever heard.

You slowly retracted your teeth from his arm, deciding to never do that again.

“Well.. Can you at least tell me who you are? Why you are here? Why me?” You bombarded him with question, he hummed, his tail wagging on grass while rocking you side to side like a baby.

“Mm~.. m’ name’s Briar.. I’m a gift for you! And.. Because I saw you first!” He finished with a wide smile, his simplistic answers not actually giving away anything.

He rubbed his cheek against the side of your head, your back cushioned by two very prominent pillows.

You glared at him, wriggling out of his beefy arms and rolling onto the grass.

“Let me stay with you!” He chirped, getting up to follow close behind you.

“No.” You didn’t budge, looking down to dust your jeans off, but when you looked up Briar was giving you the most sopping wet pathetic puppy eyes you had ever seen.

Your harsh glare softened for a moment, no! No! No! You weren’t going to get emotionally manipulated by a fucking cow.

He dropped to his knees, getting on all fours and dirtying his knees with soil. His hands wrapped around your calves as if they were the size of water bottles.

“Please…”

That disturbed you more than you would think, this thing dwarfed every aspect of yours, only reminding you of how quick and effortlessly he could rip an arm of yours off.

“..No!” You grumbled more defiantly, closing your eyes for a second as you looked away.

you curiously cracked an eye open and saw how large drops of tears welled in his eyes, his bottom lip trembled, threatening that he would cry if he needed to.

A strong gust of wind blew in your direction, to your dismay, sending the last piece of wrapping around Briar’s hips off into the breeze.

You almost screamed in terror at the sheer size of that thing, because there was no humane possible way you could call it a penis.

That thing was the fuckin’ size of your arm.

“Okay. Fine. Come inside.” You grabbed his arm roughly, dragging him into your cottage in a panic.

He cheered as he allowed you to throw him inside your room, you skimmed your closet for something—God dammit! Anything to cover his big ass up!

You shakily exhaled as you found the baggiest jeans you owned, your hands gripping the widest flannel you had.

You screwed your eyes shut. Not wanting to see more than you already had.

“Thank..you!” He beamed, you could already imagine the sparkles around him.

You picked up the rustling of clothes, opening your eyes to see how your clothes fitted him.

You didn’t have underwear for him for now, so you had to compromise with just hoping that your jeans would be enough to cover his shame just a little bi…

Nevermind, you could still see the outline of it.

The supposed ‘baggy’ blue jeans hugged his thighs sinfully. This is a stranger, you tried to reprimand yourself, a complete stranger that you should not be ogling at but.. holy cow.

That shit was juicy. The pervert inside you was foaming at the mouth, trying not to pounce and bite the flesh off his legs and ass.

The flannel was hanging onto a single button, the fabric stretched over his chest so disgustingly tightly.

You had to unbutton the very first few buttons to let him breathe properly, it was killing you slowly. The need to bury your head between those glorious, magnificent tits.

You covered your face with your sun hat in shame, wishing to slam your head against the walls.

“Just..Just go.” You fumbled with your words, flush climbing the back of your neck all the way up to your ears.

Briar held his arms pinned to his sides, fingers flexing as he stared at you in awe. How he just wanted to aggressively cuddle you, he wanted to squeeze you so bad.

He thought humans were weird and mean.. But when looking at you he just wanted to bite you, not to harm you per say, just to somehow cope with the warm feeling in his chest.

“Okay!” He skipped out the front door, leaving you in ruins as he waltzed into the barn where the cattle resided.

You watched him interact and play with the cows for hours upon hours, at one point stealing a bell and wearing it around his neck.

“I’m your belle now!” He said, brimming with excitement. He had now taken the title of being your.. helper from now onwards.

You really did try to get rid of him, you tried selling him, abandoning him— Hell, even tying him up.

But annoyingly enough, he always returned, it didn’t matter what method you used, he somehow evaded it.

So you just decided to keep him around under a condition, that he helps out around the place.

He mowed the lawn.. He milked the cows.. He did some weird type of trick on the plants so the caterpillars wouldn’t eat them.. He was magic.

You made the mistake of introducing him to a friend, thinking that since he was so docile towards you, he would be the same way with others.

Could you be any more stupid?

Sometimes your neighbors would show up to chat and exchange goods or take horse back rides around the lands, Briar didn’t like it.

He was possessive and hostile, you had to stop him from trampling your friend to ground meat, you had almost pissed your pants in fear, never had you ever seen Briar with such a hateful look in his eyes.

Luckily, it seemed like he learned his lesson after you gave him silent treatment for two hours. He was in tears, sobbing that he would never upset you again, clinging onto your feet while nudging your stomach with his horns.

He had went as far as tagging his own ear after he got envious of a calf, he saw you clipping the babies ear and immediately begun to pester you to do the same thing to him.

You tried to make him understand that it was solely for identification, that he was already pretty identifiable, but he kept insisting.

You caved in, letting him plop down in your very much weaker and skinnier thigh. You tried to warn him that it would hurt, but he shook his head, affirming that he would take it like a good boy.

You sighed, monotonously counting down from three, before snapping clips closed.

He didn’t even make a face, you told him it was done and handed him a mirror to look at his brand new piercing.

It was a yellow, blank tag. You didn’t bother giving him a number, he wasn’t a legit cow to be kept in the barns so it wasn’t necessary.

You watched with curiosity as he grabbed a alcohol pen from your nightstand and slowly wrote your name on his tag.

“Baby!” He clapped his hands, ears slightly raising to reflect his mood, his tail wagged like a dog’s as he let out a little moo.

“You’re heavy. Get off.” You pushed him off, hoping that this was the end of his strange behaviors and urges.

He whined and pouted but you eventually peeled him off of you, the warmth and squish of his chest against your face leaving and letting you breathe properly.

Well, you thought that was the end of it.

You didn’t ask any questions about his origins or what he was, because in your book ignorance is bliss.

That was until you couldn’t ignore that your pillows and clothes were beginning to go missing, appearing as if by accident in the barn loft.

Briar was beginning to disappear more often, appearing after a few hours and dropping unconscious on your bed.

You noticed that the flannels he usually wore began to look tighter around his chest, more of the buttons on his shirt beginning to suddenly fly off like bullets, narrowly hitting you in the head.

You whistled a little tune, small pebbles crunching under your boots as you walked into the cattle house.

You swung a tin bucket in your hand, turning to your fluffy little cows to milk them of their milk. You spoke in a high pitched voice to them, reaching out and kissing their furry foreheads.

“MnHgh!” A familiar voice suppressed his aroused sounds with their hand, hoping he had fooled you and had slapped a hand over his mouth quick enough.

You stopped petting your cows, walking towards a closed closet door behind you. Your hand wrapped around the doorknob, the metal being slightly warm, someone with overwhelming body warmth had just touched this.

You groaned, Briar. What the hell was he doing now?

You swung the door open, your figure casting a shadow over Briar’s crumpled body on the floor. Another sweet whimper escaped him accidentally, he tried to cover his chest with his arms, as if shielding a secret.

His tan patchwork skin gleamed with sweat under the dim lighting, his eyes were irritated and glassy, like he had been crying for hours before you got there.

“Briar.” You sternly called his name, causing him to look into your eyes, his ears drooped in embarrassment, attentively listening to what you were going to say next.

“Show me your chest.” Your voice ordered, putting the tin bucket down by your feet. You watched as Briar slowly did as you said, looking away in shame as he revealed himself.

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at his swollen pectorals, his nipples cherry red and tender. His chest was significantly heavier than usual, and even that was saying a lot when it’s common knowledge that he is very much above average.

“What..What happened?” Your eyes darted to his face, worry slowly seeping into your expression.

His obscenely large hand grasped your own, putting it gently on his chest.

You looked down, trying to decipher what his intentions were.. That was until you felt something warm trickling down your hand.

Something white and watery, slowly dribbling down your hand at a steady pace. It was shameful, down right perverted— But you brought your hand to your mouth, licking the substance.

It hit you like a tractor, it was silky—Sweet, better than any liquid you had ever tasted, it’s taste was one too similar to.. Milk?

“Y..Y-You can do that?” You blurted without thinking, pulling the tin bucket under his chest to catch the liquid.

The slightest shy nod of his head, the most bashful smile you had ever seen of him confirmed all your suspicions.

..You actually had to milk him.

Your face turned warm as your hands reached out to him, wrapping around his soft boobs, softly but methodically squeezing the milk out of him.

They produced milk steadily, squirting into the bucket, the sound of milk splattering against the tin making your gaze hazy.

You knew it was game over when the bucket was full, his chest didn’t seem that decreased in size by much.

You got off your knees to get a new bucket, only for Briar to cling on to you, making you fall between his legs and into his chest.

He didn’t wait, his nipple gently introducing itself into your warm little mouth, milk spilling onto your tongue in a moments notice.

You let out a strangled yell, trying to unlatch but Briar’s hand stopped you, pushing your head closer to his chest, forcing you to swallow the soft liquid.

“Hush, let mommy feed you..” he cooed, hearts forming in his eyes as he forced you to digest his milk.

“HMMPH.” You tried to protest, but didn’t make a move to stop Briar, he just shushed you, acting as if your protests were just a hissy fit.

He overpowered you, that sensitive shy act he put on before, being years light behind him.

You closed your eyes, knowing there was no escape from bosom jail. Your throat was dry from dehydration and the warm milk being force fed down wasn’t the most unpleasant thing you had experienced.

He cupped the back of your head, a million dollar smile on his plump lips, you were embarrassed.

You pressed your nose close into the soft muscle of his chest, just letting yourself be smothered by warmth, milk dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

You could barely hear the overgrown cow’s deep voice over the sound of your heartbeat.

“What a sweetheart you are..” ♥

#Briarposting #yandere x reader #smilesyanderes #yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #fem reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere tendencies #yanderecore #soft yandere #Credits to enchanthings-a

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cherrysweets-world · 5 months ago

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Eyes of the Gods Masterlist - Complete

Pairing - Caracalla x fem!Reader, Geta x fem!Reader, Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary - It takes only once for them to notice you. Nothing will be the same after you have caught the eyes of gods.

Warnings - minors dni, 18+, unedited, blood, background character death, gladiator fighting, dub-con, pining, obsessive affection, historical inaccuracies, mentions of past domestic violence + child abuse, induced vomiting, reader is intoxicated at certain points, threesome, possessive/obsessive/unhealthy relationships and behaviours, attempted murder, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage (not reader’s),more to be added

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Mood board

Helpful Info

. Caracalla does not have syphilis in this fic - his illness is more so caused by issues at birth

. Questions/asks I have been sent about this fic are tagged with- #eyes of the gods asks - in case you want to read more tidbits and other people’s thoughts

. Lotsss of mentions of pregnancy + breeding kink but we will not actually see the Reader pregnant/giving birth (apart from one-shots) for those who hate pregnancy trope

pictures from radio times article and google

I do not give permission for any of my works to be posted elsewhere

ao3 - cherrysweetswrites

#emperor caracalla #emperor caracalla x reader #emperor geta x reader #fred hechinger #joseph quinn #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #caracalla #geta #caracalla x reader x geta #eyes of the gods #dividers by enchanthing

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dontlookatme121 · 4 months ago

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(Smut) Fic Recs

Pedro Pascal characters, including Javier Peña, (mostly) Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Oberyn Martell, Marcus Acacius, and Lucien de Leon.

fic recs from a girl who spends too much time reading smut.

WARNING: PLEASE read the warnings on these fics; almost all of them contain smut, dark themes, and other sensitive topics. read at your own risk. EXPLICIT 18+, MDNI.

Javier Peña

One-Shots:

FYBF by @almostempty | javier x f!reader

Just Friends by @punkshort | Javier Peña x f!reader

Maneater by @probablyreadinsmut | Javier Peña X Afab!Reader

Murphy’s Sister by @absurdthirst | Javier Peña x F!Reader

Not So Secret Santa by @lincolndjarin | javier peña x fem!reader

Purgatory by @gothcsz | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC

Strangers by @joelmillerisapunk | Stripper!Javier Peña x f!reader

Series:

Thoroughfare by @gothcsz | Javier Peña x Original Female Character | (Ongoing)

★ my fav fic. you should read it & everything else by Kat!

Fantasize by gothcsz | javier peña x fem!reader | (Ongoing)

Neighbors by gothcsz | javier peña x f!reader | (Complete)

Salvatore by @devilmademewriteit | javier peña x afab!fem!reader | (Last updated 03/2023)

(Un)Faithful by probablyreadinsmut | Rbf!Javier Peña x Married F!Reader | (Ongoing)

Unscripted Desire by gothcsz | Pornstar!Javier x Pornstar!OFC x Fem!Reader | (Ongoing)

Joel Miller

One-Shots:

blurred lines by stellamarielu | joel miller x female reader

But daddy, I love him! by @sanarsi | older boyfriend!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Cherub by @thechaoticcherub | Priest!Joel Miller x reader

Dusk by gothcsz | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader

Euphoria by sanarsi | professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

For Cryin’ Out Loud by @gracieheartspedro | post-outbreak! joel miller x fem!reader

handsy by @stellamarielu | joel miller x female reader

I'm Happy Where The Devils Are by @dilf-docs | dbf!joel miller x younger!reader

Just This Once by punkshort | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

love thy neighbour by @ace-turned-confused | joel miller x f!reader

Middle of the Night by @frannyzooey | Joel Miller x f!Reader

Not Your Daddy by @celiababy | Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

october's end. by @salingers | joel miller x f!reader

room for three by @morning-star-joy | joel miller x f!reader x arthur morgan

The Christmas Auction by absurdthirst | Joel Miller x F!Reader

TRICK OR TREAT by @maiamore | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader

Tomb rider by @joelspeach | dbf!Joel x female reader

feels so right by @fake-bleach | dbf!joel miller x reader

You're a Daydream, Stay A While by dilf-docs | joel miller x younger!reader

Series:

cowboy like me by @macfrog | dbf!joel miller x f!reader | (Complete)

Dark Shades of Innocence by @mermaidgirl30 | club owner/pleasure dom! Joel x fem! reader | (Complete)

Fourth of July by jrrmint | dbf!joel miller x f!reader | (AO3 Complete)

Give in Again by @pocketfullofkouhuns | No-outbreak!Joel x f!reader | (Complete)

i'll be home for christmas by punkshort | (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader | (Ongoing)

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise by @littlcdarlin | DBFJoel x f!Reader | (Complete)

right kind of dream by almostempty | joel miller x f!reader | (Complete)

slasher joel by @toxicanonymity | dark!Joel Miller x f!reader | (Ongoing)

Smooth Operator by @penascigarette | Joel Miller x F!Phone Sex Worker | (Ongoing)

swept away by punkshort | Joel Miller x f!reader | (Season 2 ongoing)

The F*CK IT LIST by @auteurdelabre | DBFJoel x f!Reader | (Ongoing)

unbeneath and you under my skin. by @tokkiwrites | mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! | (Ongoing, last updated 11/2024)

worship by @mssalo | Joel Miller x married!f!Reader | (Complete)

i’ve read a lot more joel miller smut than i could’ve ever anticipated (ily dbf!joel)

Frankie Morales

Series:

The boyfriend act by @capuccinodoll | Frankie Morales x F!reader | (Ongoing)

Oberyn Martell

One-Shots:

The Watcher by absurdthirst | Modern!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Ellaria Sand

What’s Love Got to Do with It by almostempty | oberyn x f!reader

Marcus Acacius

One-Shots:

III by gothcsz | Marcus Acacius x Fem!Reader x Lucius Verus Aurelius

Blood Favor by @pedgito | Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Prima Nocta by @fuckyeahdindjarin | Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

The Farmer's Daughter by punkshort | Marcus Acacius x f!reader

The Future of Rome by absurdthirst | Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Lucien de Leon

One-Shots:

Shameless by @milla-frenchy | Lucien de Leon x fem reader

there are some of the fics i've read and enjoyed since getting back into fanfiction in july 2024. it's a lot more than i expected, approximately 55. ill be posting monthly fic recs beginning march 2025.

thank you to all these fantastic authors who keep me up at night as i consume unreasonable amounts of smut. you're all amazing <3

dividers by @enchanthings

(updated 2/23/2025)

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inloveinsickness · 3 months ago

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SAKUSA KIYOOMI loses all of his edge when it comes to you.

it’s no secret that he has a reputation of being cold and aloof, sharp-tongued and straight to the point. what was once a coping mechanism long ago has since been ingrained into his personality and is second nature to him. aside from his coach, team staff, close friends and people he considers family, there’s no need for anyone else to held that closely to him.

no one needs to know that while he's grumbling over the phone about his upcoming PR schedule, he has your snoozing head resting in his lap and fingers carding through your hair.

no one needs to know that a mandatory goodbye kiss from you is required before leaving the house, if not his day is going to start off horribly and he'll be in a snappy mood, how dramatic.

no one needs to know that his tone softens whenever he talks to you, words sanded down, smoothened around the edges and laced with tenderness, not because you can't take it, but because why should he?

sakusa kiyoomi shows his love in private, he doesn't need to prove it to anyone, certainly not the press, but he makes sure you know it very well, especially in quiet moments with just you and him.

taglist. open (link to form) @wyrcan @urslytherin @saucejar @kurogira @returntothefae

@diorzs @daisy-room @stellar-headquarters @whatisnureotypical @haruhi269

@ayatakanosstuff @zuhaeri @cyxjz @sexylexy12

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #hq fluff #dividers: @enchanthings @cafekitsune

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anti-rq-daves-cult · 2 months ago

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Nintendo Stamps

Stamps

Blinkies

#Divider by enchanthings #Flashing cw #stamps #neocities #web graphics #old web graphics #web finds #2010s nostalgia #2010s #Nintendo #Nintendo 3ds #Animal Crossing #tomodachi life #Nintendogs #Pokemon #Deviant art stamps #blinkies #blinkies cafe

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hiraethwrote · 9 months ago

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THE HEART GROWS FONDER

pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k

Kento was a knowledgeable man.

He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.

He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.

He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.

He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.

And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.

He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.

His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.

He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.

With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”

There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.

His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.

And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.

He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.

That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.

However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.

During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.

Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.

“Hi there.”

Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.

“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.

“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”

Friend? Had he heard you right?

Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.

It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.

He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.

Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.

And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.

Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.

He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.

It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”

“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?

You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.

Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”

Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.

He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.

When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”

The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.

It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.

He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.

Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.

He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”

He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”

“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.

“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”

“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.

They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.

Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.

He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.

You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.

The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.

He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.

“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.

“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.

For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.

You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.

You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.

You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.

When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.

And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.

You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.

When you were 16, you nearly caved.

In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.

“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.

In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.

You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.

Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.

“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”

Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.

It wasn’t.

But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.

Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.

With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.

Still neither of you confessed.

You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.

As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.

“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”

Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.

He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.

He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.

“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.

“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.

The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.

“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.

Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.

It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.

So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“

“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.

“Yeah?”

“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”

He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.

With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.

Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?

There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.

Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.

While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”

“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”

You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”

“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”

A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”

“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”

Kento would later eat those words.

Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.

“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”

That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.

“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.

His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.

“I mean it.”

The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.

He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.

Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.

You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.

And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.

Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.

But graduation day came and time was up.

You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.

“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.

“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.

“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”

You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.

“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”

His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.

Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.

“I’m sorry.”

Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.

Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.

Ask me to come with you.

Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.

Come with me.

The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.

Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.

There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.

His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.

Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.

He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.

According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.

You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.

You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.

The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.

Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.

Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.

You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.

And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.

You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.

After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.

Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.

Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.

But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”

He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.

“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”

“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.

“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”

“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.

“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“

“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”

He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.

So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.

You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.

Kento was supposed to share his life with you.

He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.

But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.

He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.

The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.

He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.

Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.

So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?

Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.

It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.

“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.

And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.

The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.

It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.

So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.

He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.

You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.

Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.

“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.

“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.

His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.

Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?

The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.

His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?

It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.

Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.

With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.

Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.

But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.

You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.

Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.

“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”

His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.

“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”

His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.

Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.

“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.

For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.

Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.

All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.

Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.

“Him? That was her boyfriend?”

Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.

Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.

He was here. He was actually here.

There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.

So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.

He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.

“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.

“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.

“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”

“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”

“Sounds about right.”

You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”

Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.

“Is there something to be jealous of?”

“You tell me.”

The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.

Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.

“Why are you here?”

Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.

“I’m coming back.”

“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”

He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.

“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”

The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”

That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.

“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”

“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.

“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”

“Why now?”

“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”

You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.

Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.

You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.

Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.

Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.

He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.

Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.

Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.

Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.

Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.

There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.

Please.

You felt his breath.

Don’t make me wait any longer.

Sparks.

Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.

Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.

Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.

When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.

The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.

“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.

His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”

The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.

“I really am sorry.”

“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.

“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.

They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.

“You used to be nice.”

Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”

“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.

“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”

“Were you always this boring?”

“Most definitely.”

“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.

“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.

“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.

“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.

“Will you pay for it?”

“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”

“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.

“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”

“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.

“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.

“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.

“See you at home.”

“I’ll have dinner ready.”

“God, I love you.”

Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.

It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.

He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.

“I love you too.”

tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru

an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated

#— ଓ my creative corner #dividers by enchanthings #jjk #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami #kento nanami oneshot #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami oneshot #jjk kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento x reader

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silentgravesdontexist · 5 months ago

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𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

A guide to who has participated in the event and the characters they have posted for! The main purpose of this is for the OP to have something to look back on as well as supporters and mutuals who are curious of the ships!

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏: 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

@angel-selfshipper w/ Hobie

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@malice-havik-stain w/ Stain, Havik, and Garruk

@karmas-chameleon w/ Manfred von Karma

@piercethewings w/ Ryomen Sukuna

@selfshiplightning w/ Logan and Kurt

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@yumesei w/ Soap

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐: 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡!

@alpha-leoniis w/ Honami Mochizuki

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@floevi w/ Caleb

@graveyardmuse w/ Leopold Scotch

@hmerift w/ Sunarin

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru

@twilightakiishi w/ Yamato Endo

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑: 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐥' 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

@angel-selfshipper w/ Hobie

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@floevi w/ Heath

@graveyardmuse w/ Joey Wilson

@i-put-the-s4p-in-s4pphic w/ Elliott

@karmas-chameleon w/ Manfred von Karma

@malice-havik-stain w/ Stain and Havik

@piercethewings w/ Ryomen Sukuna

@rotten-rotten-girl w/ Mick Mundy

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru & Hoshina Soshiro

@twilightakiishi w/ Yamato Endo

@yumesei w/ Soap

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐞𝐚, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

@alpha-leoniis w/ Jaehee Kang

@angel-selfshipper w/ Hobie

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@floevi w/ Jean

@graveyardmuse w/ Kenny McCormick

@hmerift w/ Mudano Naito

@malice-havik-stain w/ Havik & Stain

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal Kestis

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru & Portgas D. Ace

@tartagliove w/ Tartaglia

@yumesei w/ Soap

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓: 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!

@angel-selfshipper w/ Hobie

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@floevi w/ Fata Musica

@graveyardmuse w/ Leo Scotch

@malice-havik-stain w/ Havik and Stain

@rotten-rotten-girl w/ Mick Mundy

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal Kestis

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔: 𝐀𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬~

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@graveyardmuse w/ Joey Wilson

@malice-havik-stain w/ Stain and Havik

@hmerift w/ Itoshi Rin

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal Kestis

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐀𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞; 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

@angel-selfshipper w/ Hobie

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@floevi w/ Heath

@graveyardmuse w/ Kenny McCormick

@i-put-the-s4p-in-s4pphic w/ Ryomen Sukuna

@malice-havik-stain w/ Stain and Havik

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal Kestis

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Hoshina Soshiro

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖: 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Portgas D. Ace

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗: 𝐀 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@graveyardmuse w/ Joey Wilson

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal Kestis

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru

@yumesei w/ Soap

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬…

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@graveyardmuse w/ Kenny McCormick

@littleplantfreak w/ Umemiya Hajime

@selfshiplightning w/ Cal Kestis

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟏: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝!

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Hoshina Soshiro

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Gojo Satoru

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟑: 𝐈𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@hmerift w/ Narumi Gen

@karmas-chameleon w/ Manfred von Karma

@silentgravesdontexist w/ Hoshina Soshiro

@yumesei w/ Soap

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒: 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝!

@birinboom w/ Hoshina Soshiro

Note: If you have posted something and I have not added you here, feel free to let me know so that I can add your blog and post here! Also, if the case will be that you are uncomfortable with being mentioned here, let me know <3

#14 days of cupid's arrow #self-shipping event #dividers and headers by:#@/enchanthings #@/cafekitsune

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joemama-2 · 5 months ago

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You absolutely hate your job. It’s mentally and physically taxing, and quite honestly, you’re embarrassed to admit to others you’re a dinosaur mascot flipping signs for the new pizza joint down the street. Being the youngest one employed there, you’re practically forced to take on the brunt of the job because the others are too “busy” to do so.

And on the super hot days, you feel like dying.

After about thirty minutes, you’re not even flipping the sign anymore. Simply holding it in the direction of the pizza spot and letting it rest against the pole next to you. Good thing nobody can see your face. That mantra keeps you somewhat sane and intact of your dignity.

But there’s also another reason why you’ve been okay with doing it. The cute guy who’s always going on his run who passes by you. He can’t even see your face, obscured by the obvious red, smiling dinosaur head; but he still sends a pearly white smile your way.

Even a tiny wave or a small “hey” in a panty breath.

Of course, you say nothing back. You feel embarrassed to. One time you had the courage to wave back but your sign was getting blown away into oncoming traffic, causing you to trip over your own two feet while chasing after it. You wish and hope that maybe one day, he can come into the store while you’re working the register and you two can spark up a chat.

However, those hopes of yours are slowly diminishing by the days as the man stops coming around. Maybe he found a new trail? Or maybe he doesn’t run at this time anymore?

Either way, you feel pretty fucking upset about it. Not that anything would’ve even happened, but it was still a nice highlight to your days. Even if it was for just a small moment. You find yourself growing less motivated and more depressed clocking into your job. But it’s paying your bills (at the sake of your happiness).

One day, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. You don’t even bother flipping the dumb ass sign anymore, simply opting to sit at the bench on the side of the road you usually are stationed at. The suit allows you to sulk in peace while still in public. Looking down at your feet, swinging them back and forth in a bored manner and mentally counting down the hours until you’re done for the day. You really need a drink.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice.

“Hey.”

For a moment, you freeze, unsure if that greeting is being directed at you or if it’s even real in the first place. Slowly picking your head up, you’re met with the sight of the man from before. Smiling down at you like you’re a life long friend, his tinted glasses reflect the brutal sun and his white hair seems more even more majestic than before.

In his hands, a pizza box and a bottle of water. The pizza from your job.

“On break?”

You shake your head timidly, unsure if speaking from behind the ridiculous mask is worth it or not.

He laughs and sits beside you, a little too close for comfort. The softness of your suit brushes against his arm. “I see, so you’re just slacking. I would be too.”

That feels almost like an insult, like he’s aware your job is pretty shitty. Again, you don’t respond with words. Regarding him with a look over, then down at the pizza.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Here.” He opens the box, the steam of the freshly hot pizza oozing out. “You’re probably hungry. And thirsty.” He hands the water bottle to you next.

Carefully, you take the water and hold it to your lap. You glance down at the pizza again. Feeling hesitant and anxious. Afraid to reveal yourself now to this stranger that has caught your eye.

After a few seconds, he seems to get the hint and places the box on his lap. Feasting on a slice himself. He leans back against the bench, one ankle crossed over his knee, his elbow propped up against the back of the bench. He’s saying nothing the entire time.

Underneath the mask, you feel your cheeks grow warmer. And it’s not just from the heat this time.

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iamgonnagetyouback · 7 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ christmas

synopsis: ever since you married regulus, you knew holidays were a bit complicated for him. so when the potters invite you both for christmas, he panics the whole way there, convinced sirius secretly hates him. but between toddler harry’s antics, warm welcomes, and an unexpected gift, maybe this christmas isn’t so bad after all content warnings: heavy emotions, crying (so much crying), brotherly angst & reconciliation, regulus overthinking everything, fluff overload author's note: i literally sobbed while writing this

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 2,301

Regulus Black rarely trembled. He was a man of precision, poise, and well-practiced restraint. Yet here he stood, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tailored coat, staring at the warmly lit Potter residence as though it were a dragon’s lair. His free hand clasped yours tightly, clammy despite the biting chill of December air.

“Amour,” he began nervously, his tone a mixture of urgency and dread, “are you certain the invitation was for me too? Perhaps Lily and James only meant you, and it would be terribly awkward if—”

“Reg.” You squeezed his hand, cutting through his spiral. “You’re overthinking this. They invited both of us. Lily wrote your name herself, remember? In that beautiful gold ink? You’re family.”

His jaw tensed, his grey eyes darting to the door and then back to you. “Family,” he echoed softly, the word heavy with doubt and hope intertwined. “It’s been years. Sirius—he’s—what if—”

“What if he’s been waiting for this moment?” you interrupted gently, reaching up to cup his face. His eyes softened, the worry in them breaking your heart. “You’re here because they want you here. And so do I. Sirius will come around, love. And if he doesn’t, you’ll have me to hex him. Alright?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, though his fingers still fidgeted. He leaned into your touch for a moment, taking a deep breath before he muttered, “I still think this might be a mistake.”

“It’s not,” you assured him, squeezing his hand again as you turned to knock on the door. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, his voice stopped you.

“Amour, wait,” he said quickly. “Are you absolutely certain? What if—”

You silenced him with a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. “Regulus Arcturus Black, if you ask me one more time, I’ll drag you inside myself.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding reluctantly. “Alright,” he whispered, though his grip on your hand tightened as the door swung open.

Lily stood there, her radiant smile lighting up the wintry evening. “You’re here!” she exclaimed warmly, pulling you into a hug before turning to Regulus. Her arms wrapped around him without hesitation, her genuine affection clear. “Regulus, welcome.”

He stiffened at first, his posture rigid and uncertain. But then, slowly, he returned the hug, a quiet “Thank you” escaping him. You could see the way his shoulders began to relax, the faintest sheen of tears in his eyes as he pulled back.

“Come in, come in,” Lily urged, her excitement genuine as she ushered you both inside.

James appeared next, his grin as boyish as ever. “Look who decided to join the fun!” he teased, clapping Regulus on the shoulder. “About time, mate.”

“James,” Regulus greeted stiffly, his voice carefully polite but uncertain. He glanced at you, and you smiled encouragingly. James didn’t seem fazed by Reg’s formality, stepping aside with a welcoming gesture.

Before anyone could say more, a small figure darted out from behind James, a mop of black hair bouncing as the toddler jumped forward with a loud “BAH!” aimed directly at Regulus.

Regulus froze, staring down at the child with wide eyes. Harry, oblivious to the tension, pouted, his tiny face scrunching in disappointment. “He’s not scared!” he whined, looking up at James for confirmation.

“Oh no,” Regulus said suddenly, his voice low and serious. He stepped back dramatically, clutching his chest as though struck. “You’ve frightened me terribly!” His grey eyes widened in mock terror, and his hand shot to yours for support.

Harry’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced by an elated giggle. “I scared him!” he cried, jumping up and down with glee. “Mum, I scared him!”

“You sure did, darling!” Lily laughed, beaming at her son.

James ruffled Harry’s hair with exaggerated pride. “Great job, young man. Now, go on, bring your uncle and aunt inside.”

Regulus froze at the word, his gaze snapping to James. He seemed to falter for a moment, swallowing hard as emotion flickered across his face. Then, a tiny tug on his coat brought him back.

“Come on, Uncle!” Harry demanded with a toothy grin, his little hands pulling insistently.

Regulus stared down at him, his breath catching. Slowly, hesitantly, a small, soft smile crept onto his lips. He bent down and lifted Harry into his arms, the toddler laughing as he looped his arms around Reg’s neck.

You watched, your chest tightening with emotion as tears pricked your eyes. The sight of Regulus, holding Harry so tenderly despite his nerves, was enough to overwhelm you. He turned to you, his smile shy but genuine, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss both his cheek and Harry’s.

“See?” you whispered against his ear. “You’re exactly where you belong.”

Regulus didn’t reply, but the tear that slipped down his cheek as he carried Harry inside said everything.

The warmth of the Potter home enveloped you as you wandered into the kitchen, leaving Regulus in the living room with Harry still babbling excitedly in his arms. The sound of laughter and soft music filled the air, and the smell of something sweet baking teased your senses. You stepped inside, only to pause at the sight before you.

Peter Pettigrew and Mary Macdonald stood by the counter, hands brushing as they decorated a tray of cookies. Peter was a blushing mess, his usually pale cheeks bright pink as Mary whispered something that had him grinning like a schoolboy.

You cleared your throat loudly, hiding a smirk as they jumped apart, the spatula Mary had been holding clattering onto the counter. Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Mary’s blush matched the rosy frosting she was piping.

“Am I interrupting something?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“Bun!” Peter exclaimed, his voice a bit too high-pitched as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re here! We were just… uh, baking! Cookies!”

Mary rolled her eyes fondly but recovered quicker, smiling warmly at you. “Welcome, sweetie. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too,” you replied with a chuckle. “And no need to explain. You two are adorable, by the way.”

Peter fumbled with the tray of cookies, muttering something under his breath as Mary handed you a warm one to taste. “Here, try these,” Peter said eagerly, watching your expression with nervous anticipation.

You bit into the cookie and hummed appreciatively. “Delicious. Seriously, you two make a great team in the kitchen. And overall.”

Peter blushed, but before he could say anything, Regulus stepped into the room. His presence seemed to shift the energy, quieting Peter’s usual bumbling nature.

“Regulus,” Mary greeted him brightly, her grin widening as you gave her a nod. She quickly plated a few cookies and handed them to him. “Here, try one. We’ve been working on these for ages.”

Regulus took the plate with a small, reluctant smile, glancing briefly at you as if for guidance. He picked up a cookie and took a careful bite, pausing as the flavors settled. Then, to everyone’s surprise, his lips curved into the faintest smile.

“They’re wonderful, Mary,” he said softly, nodding in approval.

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “And?”

Regulus hesitated, his gaze flickering to Peter, who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “...And Peter,” he added with a slight smirk.

Mary and Peter both grinned, looking utterly pleased with themselves. “Thanks, Regulus,” they said in unison, earning a chuckle from you.

The lighthearted moment was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. You turned to see Remus stepping in, his tall frame illuminated by the kitchen lights. He smiled warmly, his gaze soft as it landed on you.

“Dove,” he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug. “You look lovely as ever.” Then, turning to Regulus, he nodded. “Glad you made it, Regulus. Sirius will be joining in a minute.”

Regulus stiffened at those words, his hand instinctively seeking yours as his usual calm façade faltered. After exchanging pleasantries with Remus, he pulled you aside, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper.

“Did you hear him?” Regulus asked, his panic barely contained. “‘Sirius will be joining in a minute.’ That’s code for ‘he’s furious I’m here.’ I knew this was a mistake. Oh, Merlin, I should leave. I’ll just make an excuse—would they believe me if I said Barty accidentally set Evan on fire?”

You tried not to laugh, gently placing your hands on his shoulders. “Reg, no one’s furious you’re here. Sirius might be dramatic, but he doesn’t hate you. And yes, they would believe that excuse, love. But just stay with me, okay? You’re doing fine.”

Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of a door opening again silenced him. Both of you turned as Sirius stepped into the room, his grey eyes instantly locking onto you.

“Doll,” Sirius greeted with a grin, pulling you into a quick hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you replied, giving him a warm smile.

Then Sirius’s gaze shifted to Regulus. His expression softened slightly, though his tone held a quiet intensity as he spoke. “Can I talk to you alone, Regulus?”

Regulus tensed beside you, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline. His wide eyes darted to you in panic, but you just smiled reassuringly and leaned in to whisper, “You’ve got this.”

You blew him a quick kiss before stepping away, leaving him and Sirius alone in the kitchen. As you walked out, you caught Sirius glancing at you, his face unreadable, before turning back to his brother.

Sirius leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he studied his brother with a carefully neutral expression. Regulus, for his part, was stiff as ever, his fingers twitching slightly as he tried to suppress his nerves.

“So…” Sirius began, dragging the word out. “You’re here.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I am. And you’re here.”

Sirius’s lips twitched upward in a small, begrudging smile. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Regulus shifted on his feet. “You too.”

An awkward silence settled between them, the kind that years of estrangement couldn’t quite fill. Sirius scratched the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“I actually have something for you,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Regulus blinked, startled. “You… do?”

Sirius nodded, his usual bravado muted as he turned and disappeared into the hallway. Regulus stood frozen, glancing back at the kitchen door as if considering fleeing, but before he could, Sirius returned. In his hands was a small package, wrapped haphazardly in parchment and tied with a crooked ribbon.

“Here,” Sirius said, shoving it toward him. “It’s, uh, not much.”

Regulus stared at the package, his brow furrowing. “I wasn’t aware there was going to be gift exchanging.”

“There’s not,” Sirius replied quickly, waving him off. “Just take it, alright?”

Regulus hesitated, then reached out and accepted the gift with the same care one might use to handle a priceless artifact. He carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper, revealing a neatly folded sweater inside. The soft fabric was midnight blue, and embroidered on the chest was a constellation—the Regulus star, shining bright—and a black dog stitched beside it, looking up toward the stars.

For a moment, Regulus just stared at it, his fingers brushing over the stitching. His throat tightened, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

“I…” he began, but his voice failed him.

Sirius, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, began rambling. “I, uh, had some help from Remus, of course. I’m rubbish with sewing—nearly stabbed myself a dozen times. And the constellation—Remus said it should be accurate, so we looked it up in one of his star charts, and—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Regulus surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Sirius. A quiet sob escaped him as he buried his face against Sirius’s shoulder, his grip firm and unyielding.

Sirius froze for a moment before exhaling shakily. A small smile tugged at his lips as he returned the embrace, his own tears slipping free as he clung to his younger brother.

They stayed like that for a long moment, the tension between them melting away in the quiet of the kitchen.

When Regulus finally pulled back, his face was tear-streaked but calmer. Sirius gave him a lopsided grin and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Reggie,” Sirius said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m pretty sure dinner’s ready. And you know how James gets when people are late to the table.”

Regulus nodded, wiping his face as he smiled faintly. “Alright.”

Together, they stepped into the kitchen, their bond mended in a way neither had expected when the evening began. Everyone glanced up as they entered, noticing the tear tracks on both their faces, but no one said a word. Instead, they simply smiled and made room for the two brothers to join the gathering.

Regulus slid into the seat beside you, and Sirius took his place next to Remus. You gave Regulus a soft, knowing smile, gently squeezing his hand under the table. He squeezed back, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

The room soon filled with laughter as Harry began reenacting his earlier “scare” on an unsuspecting Remus, who pretended to faint dramatically. James and Lily chuckled, Mary and Peter exchanged amused glances, and Sirius leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around Remus as he laughed at Harry’s antics.

As you looked around the table, your hand still intertwined with Regulus’s, you couldn’t help but think that this was what Christmas was truly about—family, love, and finding light even after the darkest of times.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

#⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ivy writes ༄.°#regulus x sirius #regulus black x reader #sirius x regulus #regulus black #the black brothers #hp marauders #regulus black fluff #regulus black angst #regulus black and sirius black #regulus arcturus black #christmas #christmas fic #black family #marauders era #the marauders #regulus black hurt/comfort #dividers by enchanthings

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twilightsumu · 1 day ago

Text

for our eyes only?

connection: r. sukuna x fem!reader

synopsis: your only fans is thriving, especially when your boyfriend films himself filling you up.

content warning: modern au, non curse au, nsfw, mdni, smut, only fans (might have gotten somethings incorrect), established relationship between reader and sukuna, rough sex, hair pulling, biting, spitting, oral (fem receiving), smacking, dirty talk, crude language, name calling (slut, whore), p in v, unprotected, creampie, cum play, consensual recording.

(1) notification: this was actually supposed to be gojo’s one shot! while editing, i felt like sukuna was more suited. i could not be happier with it!

wc: 2.8K (finally learned to stfu!)

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“What’s winning at the moment?”

“Anal.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Sitting on the couch in front of you, your pink haired boyfriend (slash manager — he sees red when you leave that out) responds with a gruff. One of those scoffs he pretends is a laugh.

His crimson colored eyes locked on the laptop on his thick thighs. Shirtless — the hazy light coming from the kitchen behind you gleaming on his tattoos. His grey sweats hanging loosely on his hips. A lazy dominance weighing heavy in the stilled room.

“Just fucking with you,” he drawls out, finally lifting his eyes to look at you. “It’s actually creampie and cum play.”

You circle the coffee table to stand in front of him, your knee brushing his as you lightly lean into him. Your hands planting themselves on his shoulders. His huge hand not hovering over the small mousepad, instantly grabbing your waist. The hold is rough and tense, just like him.

“I could do with that.” You smile down at him. He rolls his eyes, his thumb tapping on the mouse pad to keep the screen lit.

“What if I rig it?” He asks almost innocently. But, nothing about Sukuna is innocent. You could only squeeze his shoulder and let out a breathy laugh.

“Why the hell do you want to do it in my ass so badly?”

“I fucked every other hole. Might as well finish the set.”

“You haven’t fucked my ear,” you snort.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” His hand on your waist is now rubbing down his tired face. You press your lips together to keep your laughter at bay.

“Cosplaying and a foot job are also options. We have three minutes till the poll is up and creampie and cum play is at,” he stops and looks back at the laptop. “Sixty eight percent.” He deadpans.

You tilt your head as you look down at him. His lips in its usual snarl, his eyes narrowed at the screen. You could almost hear him counting down the seconds.

“You don’t wanna cum in me or something?”

“I always do,” he shrugs, your hand shifting along with his shoulders. “But, you built this little dystopian world where men choose where I cum.”

“They do pay our bills.” One of your hands creep up the nape of his thick neck. Your fingers slightly running along his undercut. He slightly leans in, his head pushing into your hand. You have to bite your lip to force your comment about affection down.

He looks up at you, his hand coming up to shut the laptop. Boredom evident in his stare.

“And ask you to role play as a tree,” he nudges your hip, making you step back as he stands up from the couch. Your arms falling to your sides. “So maybe we shouldn’t fucking trust them with our financial endeavors.”

“So you won’t fuck me if I was a tree?” You hum as you shiver at the feel of heat coming off of his chest.

“If this is another if I was a worm question, I’m going to fucking lose it.” You hear the dry chuckle that wants to escape.

“What if I was a real sexy willow tree or something?”

“And what would my cum be?” He stares at you. His nose scrunches, eyebrows pulling together, as if he’s really thinking this through. “Fertilizer?”

“Well, technically… yes.” His lips curl, and you can’t help but throw your head back from laughter. One of your hands reaching to grab onto his solid chest.

You barely have time to yelp before you’re hoisted like you weigh nothing. Your chest pressed to his back, view upside down, his hand coming down hard on your ass. A smack full of irritation and affection, typical.

“I’m choosing what we’re filming next. And no god damn tree shit.”

Sukuna’s rough hand is sliding up your spine, palm flat and warm until it finds the back of your neck. You’re on all fours — your knees pushing into the bedding below you, your palms laid flat on either side of you.

“Stay just like that,” he mutters — his grip is firm, familiar, and heavy with intention.

From the corner of your eye, the red light blinks steady on the camera. This was supposed to be for work, content. Bills do not pay themselves. But, the second his breath fans against the back of your thighs, and the cool air brushes your wet cunt everytime he shifts — any idea of perfect angles for the viewers is thrown out the fucking window.

You don’t have time to even mention anything about it.

Just his mouth, wet and unrelenting meeting your pussy. His tongue drags through your folds, like he too forgot about the camera.

You gasp, spine arching on instinct. Your hips pushing back, his mouth opening accepting more. His grip on your neck tightens. You’re not sure if it’s to ground you or acting as a warning.

The flat of his tongue presses hard, dragging along your folds, meeting your clit. Instantly, he’s groaning, low and hungry — the sound vibrating straight through to your core.

“Shit,” you breathe out. Your arms are starting to feel weak as you struggle to hold yourself up.

With nothing more than a grunt, his tongue laps at your clenching hole. His hand starts trail down from your neck, roughy fingertips navigating your spine until it’s on your plush ass. He squeezes once, a rough one that makes you yelp as you try to look over your shoulder. Then he lifts it and brings it back down with a sharp slap you sure the camera picked up on.

You jolt, a moan ripping through your chest. You’re sure you feel him grin.

Another slap. And instead of pulling away, you’re pushing back into his mouth. Your ass throbbing under his palm.

You feel your pussy getting wetter — the heat warming between your thighs. He grunts against you when he feels the gush of slick, his tongue flicking faster, meaner. His nose nudging your hole as he devours you.

All you could do is try to hold yourself up on wobbly arms, helplessly moan, and throw looks at the camera. You know, for content.

You feel him pull back and you let out a whimper. Your chin drops to your chest as you let out a gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy for a fucking whore,” he rasps, his voice low and wrecked. Cocky. “Can’t believe I let other men watch me devour it.”

You shiver, words stuck on your tongue. A weak mewl is the only thing you could pull out your throat.

He chuckles, that low, dry one. The one he knows gets you dripping. His hands are still on your ass — now spreading you apart. You could picture his hungry eyes looking you over. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know his tongue is licking over his bottom lip.

You push back a bit, missing his mouth on you. You feel his face inch closer and before his tongue meets your wet heat — he spits directly onto your cunt. The slick sound of it makes your stomach tighten and nipples harden.

You gasp — hot and loud. And before you could even think, he’s diving back in. Tongue hot, his finger gripping onto your hips.

All you could hear is your strangled moans, Sukuna’s slurping, and the shakiness of your arms under you.

His hands spread your wider, wet sound following as he pulls away.

“Shit, look at you,” he mutters, voice all gravel. Your nipples harden at the tone. “You want me to fuck you like this?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You turn your head, looking over your shoulder. You’re met with Sukuna’s shit-eating grin, his eyebrows cocked up teasingly. His hands squeeze your ass rougher.

“Louder. You know they love to hear you begging.” He teases, his voice low. He cocks a thumb towards the camera. Your eyes catch the light again.

“Do they or is it you?” You start to shift, arms falling below you. You want to tease some more, watch the tick in his jaw as you joke around.

Slap!

He has you by the hips, your left ass cheek stinging. He’s dragging you back until your thighs are flushed against his. His cock pressing into your thigh. Thick, hard, and unforgiving — you push back

Your arms are trembling, barely keeping you upright. You’re smiling, giving the camera exactly what it wants. Sukuna would have fun with editing.

He chuckles — low and heady. A sharp squeeze to your hips, and then the head of this thick cock pressing in your wet entrance.

You suck in a breath so hard, it burns your chest. Your back arches — ass pushing back involuntary, moving so that you could have him touch exactly where you need him too. You moan, your head dropping forward as your arms barely keep you up.

“You’re a smartass you know?” Sukuna groans, dragging his hips back slowly. You feel every movement — the twitch in his right thigh, his fingers tapping on your hip, your pussy clinging to his hard cock. “With a cunt that takes me so well.”

Without warning — he slams back in, bottoming out. The sound of skin slapping harshly snaps through the room. He doesn’t even let you adjust. A brutal pace as his hips meet your ass.

Your hands are gripping the sheets, trying to keep steady. The sounds of your squelching pussy meeting his cock from each thrust competing with your moans.

One thrust is so forceful, his tip meeting your cervix — your body jolts forward. Your arms give out on you as your chest meets the bed.

“Let them see your face,” your back arching as he yanks you by your hair. “Show them who you’re a slut for.”

Teary eyed, mouth agape, your arms shakily holding you up again, drool starting to pool down your chin as he ruts in you deeper. He’s bullying your gummy walls with every rough thrust, the tip of his cock keeps catching that soft, spongey spot inside you.

The hand not in your hair snakes around your throat. Not yet choking. His fingertips slightly pressing in, reminding you of what he could do.

You have a comment on the tip of your tongue. You think you do. But his hips driving into yours steals the air from your lungs. And now, you could really only focus on your thighs shaking, your arms completely giving out. You collapse into the sheets, drool soaking the fabric along with your slick between your legs.

He leans over you, chest brushing your back, his breath heavy as it hits the top of your spine. You feel just how deep he’s in you in this position. You feel his lips leave the lightest kiss on your shoulder blade, your head turning to the side to meet his eyes. Then, he bites into the curve of your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. His hips don’t slow for a second — just keep grinding, brutal and deep.

“Cum in me,” you’re babbling. Moans and desperate mewls as you struggle to keep up with his brutal pace. Your hips barely backing into his before he’s thrusting harshly into your pussy.

“No shit,” he huffs, his breath still fanning where he just bit you. “Creampie did win. I’m fair.”

His thrusts get sloppier, his heavy ballsack hitting your clit as he continues to fuck into you. His hips are still snapping into yours, but more desperate . Less control, like he’s chasing your high and his.

He lowly groans your name in your ear. His teeth grazing your ear lobe.

Then it hits. The room gets all white, Sukuna feels heavier on top of your back. One final thrust that causes a sharp cry out of you and a rough groan from him. You feel him bottom out, his thick cock pulsing inside of you. You feel the warmth as he spills in you, filling you so full, your stomach flutters.

“Fuck,” he grits out. The hand still on your throat slightly squeezing, the other one gripping your hip. Like he’s grounding himself to your limp body on your shared bed.

You’re both panting, so you don’t register him pulling out until you feel the slow, thick slide of cum leaking from your pussy. A gush of warmth trailing down your thighs. An airy whimper leaving your lips.

“Turn over,” he mutters, his strong hands already guiding you.

You whimper, your thighs shaky and soaked. You blink up at him as he ‘softly’ manhandles you, your back meeting the bed with a plop. His eyes are determined. He gets like this whenever he thinks of another shot.

He reaches back for the camera. His free hand grabbing your thigh as he starts to inch down on the bed. His chest guiding along your body.

Your thighs press together, sticky with his cum and your slick. Twitches and trembles rack your legs, his hand still on your thigh, gripping. You’re a mess, you don’t even have to watch the video back to know that.

With his face, once again, mere inches away from your pussy. He angles the camera to get the perfect shot of your wrecked pussy. His hand roughly shoving your thigh open, hooking it over his shoulder.

No warning, you feel his fingers. Two of them — his index and middle finger roughing sliding through your folds. No easing them in, just his cum and slick being fucked back into you.

You watch as his hand not pumping into your pussy grabs the camera so he could move it closer. He shows the camera how perfectly you stretch around him, fingers pumping slow.

You drop from your elbows, your eyes shutting. A moan escaping your dry lips. The squelching of your pussy is loud and obscene.

“A whore filled to the brim.” He mutters, his voice low and mean. “You love me stuffing you, huh?”

You nod, barely thinking, barely hearing him honestly.

Then, when you’re sure you’re about to cum for the second time. His fingers slip out, a wet noise following their escape. You lift your head — watching him eye his fingers that are covered in his cum and your slick. He moves the camera along to show his fingers.

His eyes on yours, he brings his fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirling over his fingers. Like he’s licking his favorite ice cream flavor off the spoon.

He moves up the bed, his movements slow and haunting. His body hovering over yours. The fingers that were just in your cunt are harshly tapping your chin.

You open your mouth — tongue out, needy, eyes locked on his.

He smirks, letting everything be lapped up, fall.

He spits it straight into your mouth — a warm mix of his thick release and your own slick. He watches it pool on your tongue before you swallow, moaning around it. Your eyes never leave the other — even with the camera acting as a barrier between you.

“Fuck,” he smirks. His voice caught somewhere between wrecked and proud. The camera dropping out of his hands as he leans towards you. “Maybe they made the right decision.”

One of his hands grabs onto your chin, pulling your face to his. His lips are instantly locking with yours. The kiss is all tongue and teeth, messy and claiming. His teeth nipping into your bottom lip as his other hands grips into your hair, pushing you even closer.

He pulls away, both of you breathing heavy. Your spit on his lips and his on yours. You don’t miss the way his shit eating grin has became that soft smile he reserved for you.

“You good baby?” He hums against your lips. You can’t help but smile.

“Mhm,” you hum, your forehead meeting his heaving chest.

One hand still cradling your face, the other tangled in your hair. You have to remind yourself to get this clip before he edits the video. Just for you. So you could go back to it whenever you want.

You shift your head so that your eyes could meet his hazed ones.

“We could do anal next time,” you whisper. His eyebrows shoot up in anticipation. You fight the giggle wanting to escape. “Under one condition.”

“It’s not going to be normal,” he rolls his eyes. His sigh is long and heavy. You can’t help but laugh. Your hand running along his rib cage.

“I’ll be a sexy tree. Like a super sexy Ginkgo tree.”

“For fucks sake.”

Poll Winner!