#I know he voiced him on The Animated Series
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yuurei20 · 20 hours ago
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Summarized transcript of the Twisted Radio episode with Octavinelle (and Jack) voice actors!! 🥳 (all is just paraphrased, not direct quotes, and Book 7 spoilers removed!)
Highlights:
・it is very long but if you read nothing else, i recommend just reading the opening talk about what animals they would be, because it is one of the greatest things in the world.
Begins with Jack’s VA Ban (🐺) introducing the show, as he is one of the regular hosts. He begins with explaining that last month’s recording with the Savanaclaw group was very pleasant.
Azul’s Tamaru (🐙) Jade’s Komada (🐬) and Floyd’s Okamoto (🦈) are this month’s guest!
🐺 talks about how 🐙 was a guest on the show in January, but 🐬 and 🦈 are appearing for the first time.
They have 🐬 say the Twisted Radio name (he was raised in Germany and is trilingual, with English and German), he does a good job with pronunciation ✨
Opening Talk
Topic decided last week: if you were beast-person, what kind of animal would you like to be based on?
Last week 🦁 said he would be a baby hippo, 🐺 said a housecat and 🍩 said red-eyed crocodile skink, which no one knows what it is ww
🦈 Komodo dragon. Because the name is cool.
🐬 There is something lizard about you, yes.
Now they are talking about how fast Komodo dragons are. 
🐬 Rhino. They look really cool. With the horn and they are fast—not even a Komodo dragon would go after a rhino.
🦈 If I was a Komodo dragon, 🐬 as a rhino would be big—I wouldn’t go for him. Maybe just his pinky finger.
🐙 Capybara.
Everyone laughs.
🐙 I like baths. Capybara are always taking baths and look so comfortable.
🐬 A rhino and a komodo dragon and a capybara.
🦈 The capybara is on top.
🐺 None of this is what I’d imagined.
🐬 What did you imagine about us? I won’t hit you with my horn.
🦈 I won’t bite you with my poison teeth.
🐙 Let’s take a bath together.
Everyone laughs.
🦈 The nuance is a little different for just one of us.
🐺 I’d imagined cats or dogs or something. Everyone goes for cool animals.
🦈 We all go for wild things.
🐬 The capybara?
🐙 One of us is not as wild as the others.
Reading a letter from a fan
They say they love the new birthday series and are excited about the MyRoom look for Azul, Jade and Floyd and what to know what the voice actors where casually at home, and how they refresh themselves after a long day.
🦈 says that Floyd’s MyRoom look was exactly how he’d imagined it would be and he really liked it.
🐬 says he was surprised by Jade’s bedhead. It was so cute. Floyd’s was intense, too.
🐙 Floyd could have just kept his hair like that and it would have been fine.
🐬 I thought Jade was the type to say “good night” and fall asleep immediately and then wake up again in the exact same position in the morning, but he moves! I was impressed.
They talk about how it is a “gap” of Jade’s, the difference between what one would expect and how it actually is.
🐬 But those were exactly the pajamas I had imagined.
🦈 I imagine that 🐬 wears pajamas like Jade’s.
🐬 Incorrect.
🐺 Are you closer to Floyd’s, with the hoodie and the tank top?
🐬 I was until last year. It changed this year. 
🦈 A bathrobe?
🐙 Do you sleep wearing the clothes you intend to wear the next day? So you can just wake up and go?
🐬 Efficient but no, that is not it. I wear recovery pajamas. They improve blood circulation and refresh you quicker. I’ve been wearing those all this year. 
🦈 Those would be a good birthday present for someone. 
🐺 What do you wear, 🦈?
🦈 Fluffy. I get cold easily. I wear down jackets on airplanes and things, even in summer. 
🐺 What about you 🐙?
🦈 Something surprising, like a hoodie?
🐬 No, 🐙 might wear something like Jade’s pajamas.
🐺 I hope he wears a really embarrassing T-shirt.
🦈 Something that says TAMARU in hiragana or something.
🐙 I wear jersey pants and a T-shirt.
🦈 Half right.
🐙 I just wear clothes that I don’t want to wear outside and go to sleep.
🐺 My pajamas are like Jade’s.
🐬 What color?
🦈 Pink?
🐺 Not pink. 
🐙 Checkered pattern?
🐺 Not checkered pattern. I wear sets of navy and black and brown on rotation.
🦈🐙 How adult.
🐺 This is embarrassing.
🦈 Can we turn that into an SSR 🐺-kun?
🐺 ME!?
🐬 SSR 🐺-kun, that’s good.
About Octavinelle
Impressions of Azul/Jade/Floyd, voicing Azul/Jade/Floyd, Main Story Review
Impressions of Azul
🦈 A cute character you can bully
🐙 I don’t think Azul would agree.
🐬 He probably looks like that from the perspective of other characters but actually he puts in effort and does what needs to be done. 
🐙 He wants to be perfect, and his passion for that is amazing, there is a lot about him that can be teased. That is one of the things that is likable about him. Azul himself probably doesn’t think so at all. 
Impressions of Jade
🐙 Jade might be the one who is most difficult to read of the three. The most mysterious.
🦈 I thought he was the most normal one, at first.
🐬 He behaves elegantly. But the words he uses and his atmosphere are…unique.
🦈 When he laughs…the Leech siblings, they have jagged teeth. Jade doesn’t laugh much, at first. But in one moment he will smile and show his teeth.
Impressions of Floyd
🐙 When he is having fun he becomes excited, and when he isn’t his mood crashes. And that is easy to understand about him. 
🦈 He might be the easiest to understand.
🐙 But we don’t know the catalysts. And that is an unreadable point about him—he has that mysteriousness.
🦈 He loves strong people. He gets excited interacting with them.
🐬 The reason Floyd is able to do whatever he wants is because of Azul and Jade.
🦈 Jade acts like he is restraining him but he doesn’t.
🐬 He enjoys it.
🦈 He will say “I’ll hold him back” and then releases him and says “go have fun.” It’s a little tough for Azul, though.
🐙 Azul gets annoyed a bit. 
🐬 Azul comes close to saying “I won’t allow this anymore!” but we know just how to sooth him again before he reaches his breaking point.
🐙 He’s kind of being played with in that way.
🐬 He’s being played with.
Voicing Azul
🐙 Recently I have to be more careful not to overdo it. Azul uses strong vocal inflections, but when I start enjoying it too much those inflections become even stronger and they have to tell me to calm down. I have to say “I’m sorry, I was having too much fun.”
🐺 Has your idea of Azul changed?
🐙 It’s evolved. In Book 3 there were serious scenes? Normal scenes without jokes for the story, and I portrayed him as a serious-minded character, but as the story progresses the jokes are increasing. Especially Book 7.
🦈 Book 7 is fun!
🐙 When they let me read the script I was like, “what?”
🐬 I didn’t really understand what was going on, at first.
🦈 ”Am I reading this right!?” was my response.
🐙 When we receive the script it is just set, so I would wonder what the illustrations would be like. 
Voicing Jade
🐬 Elegance. His vocabulary is very distinctive, and there will be sudden eeriness that makes you wonder “What did he just say?” He needs to be misleadingly portrayed as a gentleman. He is interesting because just when you think “This is what Jade is like,” something unexpected will arise. Even in normal conversations I have to navigate very carefully to include intentionally unsettling elements without going too far, which would compromise his core personality. Elegance is key. The difficult thing about Azul and Jade is that they are both elegant. They’re both gentlemen. The way they deceive others with “we’re good people, we’re gentleman” is very similar, so in the beginning—it was right after 🐙 had settled on his portrayal of Azul--the team and I did a deep analysis into the way Jade should speak and the atmosphere he should create. There was the risk of overlapping with Azul, so we talked about giving him a higher or lower voice, and various things, and through a lot of trial and error we settled on how to differentiate them. The beginning was rough. We were worried that he sounded too much like Azul, so I would listen to the recordings of Azul’s lines to better understand.
🐺 But your impression of Jade hasn’t changed?
🐬 No, but progressing through the story Azul has changed a lot, and Jade has had a lot of humorous instances, and I’m not worried anymore, but the dash at the start—we were worried that the image of the dorm would be set by that, since it was still the very beginning, and I felt that weight. 
Voicing Floyd
🦈 He has a playful spirit, but it was a question of exactly how much of that can be put into the performance—I thought it would be good to voice him as if his mood changes are like a roller coaster, and that’s what I did, but…my first recording I did together with 🐙. And they really let me do whatever I wanted. Coming in from what angles, sweetening the tone, there are parts where he gets a scary look so then I would put in more strength at the end of a line, or instead end gentle—there was a lot. But I probably overdid it. The opposite direction of Jade and Azul. The staff cautioned me, saying that balance is important. 🐙 and I recorded the first to third Books together, and I was recording Book 4 alone, and there is a part where his voice becomes very low. A different VA did that part. But I got the idea that Floyd actually wants to have a deeper voice. There was a lot of variation in Book 4 but from Book 5 I have been looking more at balance.
🐙 It is actually more difficult because you have so much freedom.
🦈 I’ll overdo it. I can’t overdo it or speak too sweetly. Can’t speak with too much familiarity. Have to see how much I can do while keeping it within the scope of his playful spirit. Also, we’re eels. We’re kind of scary in the ocean. So I would do things like adding a sense of intimidation or pressure at the ends of sentences. And all of that came apart in Book 7. (removed for spoiler) That was all balance too, though. They would tell me I was overdoing it. It’s only 70% (redacted)-Floyd.
🐙 I wanted to hear 100%.
🦈 They let me match my performance to the illustration. But, yeah…
🐙 That face, after all…
🦈 Exactly, this face…I wondered if I could go full comical…
🐬 That was rude, right?
🦈 Jade is so rude.
🐬 He is looking closer than anyone, too.
🦈 Even now I can’t forget it. “Floyd…(redacted)…?” There!? That’s what you notice!?
Main Story Review
🐺 provides an outline of Book 3.
🐙 They turned the contracts to sand. Unbelievable.
🐬 They made Azul overblot.
🐺 provides outlines of Book 4 and Book 6 (they maybe spent too much time in the last part so this is all very quick)
🐙 talks about Riddle and Azul’s scene in Book 6.
They all discuss the difficulty of recording Book 7, as things become more comical. 🐬 talks about how he struggled with certain laughter that Jade had never done before that he did for the first time in 7, but he didn’t require any retakes. 
(Lots of Book 7 talk, removed for spoilers 💦)
🐺 December 18th is my birthday.
🐙 SSR 🐺
🦈 Send me a picture.
🐙 We’ll add filters for you.
🐬 In the morning it will be “Platinum Jacket.”
🐺 I have to prepare!
🐬 At night it will be Relaxing MyRoom.
🐺 Maybe I didn’t need to tell you that.
🦈 says that he and 🐬 have never recorded together. They haven’t even seen each other since Twst Fes.
They all talk about how much they want to be able to get together and talk again, saying they’ll happily take any opportunity.
They talk about what they want to do for New Years. 🦈 says “eat 100 mochi”, 🐬says “go diving” and 🐙 says “go to an onsen.”
🐬You are a capybara to the very end!
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padfootagain · 3 days ago
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Love in Verses (XXXI)
Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’
Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is The Party… chapters 31 and 32 are twin chapters, the party will be told from both perspectives, this one from Andrew’s and the next one from MC’s. Just so you know…
This is one of the first scenes I’ve written when I began working on this project, so I’m quite fond of it even if it makes me cry…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here
Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?
Word Count: 3678
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
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Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking
On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.
Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.
There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
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It was working, Andrew was certain of it.
He had hoped it wouldn’t, that seeing you flirt with another man would leave Frank unbothered, ignoring you completely. It was a little cruel, maybe, because it meant that you would be sad, that you would be hurt by his reaction. But as he stared at you letting a man trace a line up your arm… your bare arm…
Andrew looked away, feeling sick, feeling like his world was crushing down around him. Collapsing. It was like… like being dumped by Samantha all over again…
He downed his whiskey, letting the burn of the liquor ground him to the present once more, but the relief was temporary, and soon enough, he was looking up at you again and you were leaning to whisper something in that stranger’s ear.
He turned around this time, unable to stomach the sight of him resting a hand on your waist.
The plan was simple. You were to make Frank jealous, by wearing that divine dress you had bought with Andrew, by flirting with another man. Andrew had thought about playing that role, being the man you would flirt with, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t have survived the cruelty of that situation, of you faking to be interested in him that way. Not when he loved you so ardently. And so, he was merely keeping an eye on you now, staying close to one of the tables where whiskey was being poured generously, avoiding to talk to anyone at this gigantic party, checking that you were safe, while you let another man flirt with you and touch your waist…
He downed another glass…
“You’re alright, Andy?”
He turned to his left, following the voice that now called him. Samantha, of all people… brilliant.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” he answered, shifting awkwardly.
“Thanks for coming today. I’m glad we can still be friends despite all of this. I know that it must be… peculiar sometimes, but… Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”
“No need to thank me for that.”
She placed a hand on his forearm, and once, not so long ago, it would have made his heart grow warm. Now, he felt nothing. It felt like they had happened a lifetime ago, the days when he loved her.
He thought of you, behind him, and he tried not to picture you kissing that stranger, because then he…
He poured himself another whiskey, downed it again.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, raising up an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you drinking so much since college!”
“Well, we’re celebrating, aren’t we?”
“Andy?”
“Hmm?”
He looked at her once more. Her and her dark hair, and her beautiful eyes, and the lips he thought he would spend the rest of his life kissing. How strange… now she let another man kiss them, and he wanted to kiss someone else… Their mouths didn’t belong together anymore. And Andrew then realised that he was okay with that. He wasn’t okay with how it had all happened, how it was still happening… but he couldn’t picture himself loving her again. He was looking at her, beautiful and perfect on paper… and all he could think of was you.
The music was loud, they had to raise their voices to be heard over the shallow beats. The chatter of the room Sam and Frank had rented for the special occasion was almost deafening. Andrew’s head was spinning a little, the alcohol kicking in. He still wanted another drink…
“Do you… do you hate me?”
He frowned, surprised by her question, by how direct it was too. She was a pro at circling an issue.
He thought for a moment, didn’t find an obvious answer.
When he thought of hate, he thought of that man with his hand on your body. He thought of Frank and the way he still made your heart bleed…
“Why are you asking this?” he asked back instead of answering.
“Because I… I know that the way we ended things was… messy. But I don’t want you to hate me. I… I still care about you, Andy, even if…”
“Even if you don’t love me anymore.”
It was becoming a little hard to remain standing, his world was spinning.
Were you still there with that guy? Would you… would you let him kiss you the way you had let Andrew do it in your office? God… would you be the one kissing him, the way you had kissed Andrew that night in your flat?
Samantha blinked, Andrew was puzzled as he noticed tears in her eyes.
“I think… a part of me is always going to love you, Andy.”
His eyes grew round in surprise. Was it working? Was their stupid, idiotic, foolish plan working? This was ridiculous…
… would you go back to loving Frank? Frank was a fucking dickhead…
“Do you ever wonder what could have been our lives if we had remained together?”
I wouldn’t have loved Y/N the way I do now…
And yet a couple of seconds later, he was changing his thought.
I would have fallen for her still… despite loving you…
“I used to,” he answered truthfully, stopping his answer before it would hurt her, but she insisted.
“And now?”
He was too drunk to lie. And if he were to be fully honest, he didn’t mind being rough, hurting her a little. He hated himself for the selfishness of it, but he answered earnestly anyway.
“Not anymore, no.”
“Really?”
“I… I don’t think of you like that anymore. I’ve moved on.”
She raised an eyebrow, but seemed unimpressed.
“Have you? So quickly?”
He shifted, uncomfortable. And he didn’t like being bitter, being too honest and being hurtful because of it, but… but you were flirting with another man, and Andrew was drinking too much tonight… And you were wearing that green dress, the one you had bought together, and he could picture you now, and he didn’t want Frank to see you in it and regret you, because he didn’t deserve it and… and you had bought that fucking dress for Frank… for Frank…
“I don’t love you anymore,” he said plainly, the flatness of his tone hurtful by itself. “Like I… I’m not in love with you. I… I want someone else.”
“Someone else?” she asked, and her voice was annoyed but he noticed the glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eyes.
She was hurt. But then again, she had been the one shattering his heart and his self-esteem, and his world, and the confidence he had taken so long to build…
He went on anyway.
“Yeah… I… we’re not dating or anything. But I… I like her. A lot.”
“Have you asked her out?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think she’d be interested. That’s okay. I don’t mind.”
No, he didn’t mind that you didn’t feel the same. You were a little too good for him anyway. Out of his league. You ought to deserve better…
“Now, that’s just your head saying dumb things,” she said, and even if her tone wasn’t kind, her words were reassuring.
“Maybe,” he shrugged.
“Andy… when are you going to understand that… You do deserve to be happy? That you are worthy of happiness too, huh?”
His next comment was unnecessary, but it felt good to tell the truth anyway.
“I had grown better at that while we were together. You breaking up with me to run off with someone else kind of destroyed that progress…”
He stopped resisting the urge to drink, reached for another whiskey, downed it in one gulp.
“I’m sorry, Andy. But we… weren’t right for each other.”
He wanted to argue, for the sake of it, to contradict her, but he was honest instead.
“I have to agree with that.”
He looked in your direction again, just a quick glance, just to check that you were alright. Frank was staring at you from afar too. That guy was leaning closer now, although you didn’t seem so willing to play along anymore. Andrew’s heart quickened, and soon it was pounding…
“Andy?”
“Hmm?” he asked back without looking at Samantha.
A sign… just one sign from you and he would come and make sure that guy would stand back…
Frank seemed to have read your body language as well, the bastard… he was walking over to you. Andrew closed his fists tightly, refraining from crossing the distance between you and him, from pushing that guy away, from telling Frank to fucking leave you alone because, Christ, you deserved so much better than him…
“Are you listening to me?”
Andrew almost jumped as Sam touched his arm again…
“What?”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, yeah… sorry, I was… lost in thought…”
“I was saying that I’m glad you and Y/N seem to get along. As you’re working together. I was worried when I learned she was Frank’s ex that it would make things awkward at your workplace.”
“We’re fine.”
I’ve fallen in love with her when I didn’t even think I was capable of loving anyone else after you…
“She seems nice,” she added, but her voice was weirdly flat.
“She is,” Andrew nodded, his heart fluttering as he talked of you. “She’s… she’s grand. She’s really nice, and… she’s a laugh, like… and very smart too.”
“Sounds like a catch.”
He didn’t answer, she didn’t seem to notice.
She was staring at you now too, while Frank had reached you and that stranger. He was talking with the guy, seemingly ignoring you, and even from afar Andrew could see that you were disappointed. The son of a bitch. He was pushing that guy away, without acknowledging you, he was making you feel terrible about yourself, Andrew could tell, and…
“I wonder what Frank saw in her.”
Andrew pondered on her question, and… God, he had so many things he saw in you. Your kindness, your wits, your passion for your work, your sense of humour, your smile, your eyes, the curve of your eyelashes, how fucking smart you were, your warmth, your voice, your way to scrunch up your nose a little when you were thinking, your anger, your talent, your…
… you, just… you…
But Frank? Did he see all that?
How could he have seen all of that, and still leave you?
The guy you had been talking to left, his drink in hand and a polite smile on his lips. Frank turned to you, got a conversation started. And Andrew wished he was right when he thought he could read in your expression that you were forcing yourself to look happy with his attention. Andrew didn’t believe in God, but he prayed still, silently, for you to see that Frank was not good enough for you, for you to long for his company instead… Christ, he hoped he was right when he read in the way you leaned away from Frank that you had changed your mind, that you didn’t want him to touch you the way he had just held your arm…
“Anyway, who’s the lucky woman you’ve spotted then? Do I know her?”
Andrew looked at Samantha, but he couldn’t hide the annoyance in his voice as he answered.
“I don’t really want to talk about that with you, honestly.”
“Right…”
Frank was taking a step closer to you, his hand inching for your waist…
Andrew was never one to pick up a fight, but he wanted to punch your ex in the face so bad…
“I feel a lot of resentment today, Andy…” Samantha said, trying to dissect his brain, the way she used to when they were together, but Andrew was not in the mood. “Did something happen?”
He let out a long exhale through his nose, refused to answer.
“You said you were ready to put all that happened behind us.”
He was about to argue, but he couldn’t. She was right. What a fucking fool he had been… to think that he should still want her after she broke what they had spent years building, for some random guy she had met a few weeks before. And then she was inviting him to her wedding, and he was there running back right into her arms? She was marrying Frank after knowing him for mere months when she had claimed not to be ready for marriage with Andrew when they had spent seven years together? She had not even agreed to move in with him… It seemed to hit him then, how much of a fool he had been, and the little self-esteem he had left finally took over to show him that he deserved better than to be treated like that. Anyone would deserve better. He was being an absolute fool. And you were too, you and your broken heart and he couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t pretend that all this was alright, that he didn’t want to kiss you…
He had one last question to ask, one last thought that was holding him back, one last answer he was too afraid to receive. He finally asked it.
“Frank left Y/N two weeks before you left me,” he started, the coldness of his tone unusual for him. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”
Samantha blinked.
“Why are you asking me this?” she asked back, but Andrew didn’t back down, his hazel eyes turned into steel.
“Answer me. Did you sleep with Frank before you left me?”
She remained silent, and he knew what it meant.
He thought he would be hurt, and he was, but the main emotion that came rising in his chest, made his blood boil, blinded him for a moment, was hate. Rage and hate. A lethal combo…
He huffed, shook his head.
“I left right after, and it wasn’t planned… it happened once, and then I left, and it didn’t last… it’s not like I was having an affair.”
“Shut it!” Andrew hissed. “Just… shut up for once!”
Her eyes grew round. It was so unlike Andrew to use such a mean tone…
“Andy…”
“I can’t believe you did something like this to me…”
“You’re not perfect either, Andrew, don’t pretend…”
“Don’t pretend what?! That I was always faithful to you? That I loved you? That I wanted to spend my life with you when you dumped me for a guy you barely knew?!”
“And why do you think I did that?” she answered, with venom in her words, and Andrew hated himself for falling for it. He knew she was being mean, that he shouldn’t have believed her, but he was the one always doubting his own worth, he couldn’t help it… “I’m sorry, Andrew, but you weren’t perfect either. And the truth is, I wasn’t happy enough with you.”
The word enough echoed in his head, out of context, he applied it to himself. He could feel his brain starting to spiral… but he forced his gaze to remain on Samantha. His thoughts had turned to you, and he had to check…
“Did Frank cheat on Y/N too?”
“What does it matter to you…?”
“Just. Answer. The. Damn. Question,” he hissed through gritted teeth, struggling not to shout it instead.
She heaved a sigh, but answered still.
“No… no, he didn’t. The first time anything happened between us was three days before we two broke up. And Frank had already ended things with Y/N to be with me.”
Andrew heaved a sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, and Samantha frowned at his reaction.
“What does it matter to you?” she snapped.
“It matters to me that I’m glad her partner didn’t do this to her,” he replied, grabbing another drink.
“If you’re so angry at me, what are you doing here?”
Andrew bit the inside of his cheek to refrain his earnest answer.
Because Y/N needs me here.
“Honestly, I have no fucking clue…”
He downed yet another glass, walked away before Samantha could answer anything, and he headed towards the exit, fleeing the reception. He caught your eyes as he was passing not too far from you, refrained his urge to reach for you and hold you close, but his expression made you frown.
The cold air hit his cheeks, he realised he hadn’t picked up his jacket. The alcohol was getting to his head, the inky sky filled with stars was spinning above his head. He spotted an area with a few trees and a corner covered with grass. He aimed his feet in that direction, unstable, struggling to stay upright.
And you were still in there, with Frank, why fucking Frank, why him, why couldn’t you want…
“Andy?”
He turned around at the sound of your voice, almost falling in the process.
“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer, extending a hand to steady him if he needed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.
“Are you drunk?”
“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.
“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”
But the image of Frank leaning closer, reaching for your waist flashed before his eyes. He clenched his jaw, opening and closing his fists repeatedly, not knowing what to do now with his own body, with his too-long limbs, with the knowledge that you too wanted Frank and not him. And Andrew hated that guy for taking everything he wanted away. For making Samantha leave him. For taking the life he thought he was going to build with her. But most importantly, for taking you away, even now… Andrew hated your ex for hurting you, for breaking your heart, and for being unable to let you go, for dragging you along with him, for keeping you dependent when he had someone else, and of course… of bloody course, Andrew had to fall for you, when you loved Frank.
What could you see in a guy like him? What did Andrew lack that made you unable to choose him instead of Frank?
He sat down in the grass, his brain swarming with thoughts that made him as dizzy as the liquor did.
“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.
You sat down beside him.
“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring. Andrew wanted to cry at the sound, to hide in your arms and let it all out… his rage against Samantha, his jealousy against Frank, his love for you…
“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” was his answer instead of yielding to his own wants and lean closer.
“You didn’t seem well.”
“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”
He saw you clenching your jaw, even if there wasn’t much light around the venue. The parking lot was close by, with a few lampposts there. The moon was high and bright though, and through the windows of the venue behind the two of you, light was pouring into the night. It made for a dim lighting, but just enough for him to distinguish your features.
“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.
That fucking asshole… Andrew was certain Frank had hurt you somehow, said something wrong…
“I saw you talking with Samantha… what did she say?” you asked, changing subject and aiming straight for the sensitive one without knowing.
It was Andrew’s turn to clench his jaw. He didn’t say anything.
“What did she say?”
He shrugged, but you insisted, and he ended up yielding.
“She cheated on me with Frank.”
Your eyes grew round, and there was wrath shining in them too.
“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, wanting to alleviate your pain and worry, but your expression didn’t change. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”
“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.
“Yeah, you can say that.”
“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.
“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”
You nodded but looked away.
“So… I’m losing my partner in crime for good?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice, revealing of some kind of ache.
“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”
He froze when you leaned closed, rested your head on his shoulder. He reached out without thinking, the alcohol making him bolder than he usually was, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in a tight hug. You remained like this for a couple of minutes, or perhaps a little longer than that, Andrew wasn’t sure. He was too drunk to notice the passing of time, he felt too warm holding you in his arms…
“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.
And he wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he had for some time now. That he didn’t want Samantha anymore, only you. That he dreamt of you in his bedsheets, dreamt of what you would look like under him, dreamt of kissing your eyelashes. That he wanted to hold your hand, that he looked at you sometimes when you worked, in your shared office, because he just couldn’t help it. That you were beautiful, that he thought about you all the time, that he couldn’t eat at the thought of spending a moment with you. That he wanted to kiss you now, and forget about your exes, and take you on a nice date, whatever you would like.
He wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t.
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justbelievinginmagic · 2 days ago
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im(mortal) - part 1: blood moon.
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pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader, series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? glimpse: A century-old mansion stood in the middle of nowhere engulfed by an inferno of fire. Seven figures stand in front of it; each with sharpened bittersweet smiles on their mouths as they remember how it all started so so long ago. warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore & Enhypen's Dark Moon album (but not really its lore), Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, College AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, ot7 x reader but not poly ot7 (but some are really close tbh), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mature topics, angst, human experimentation, medicine (pills/shots), death, injuries, biting, medical imagery, implied abuse, canonical violence & trauma, vampire lore, blood, Ni-ki as Riki, vomiting, illnesses, fire, arson, no mention of YN this chapter as a heads up! let me know if more tags need to be added! word count: 7.3k -> next chapter series masterlist
Seven different wooden chairs were the only furniture that remained in the large solarium. The wall paper had peeled over the years, revealing different variations of ugly, always baby-blue print. The most recent, which was faded beyond belief, was a lattice print; the one under it was a honeycomb pattern; beneath that was a plain baby blue wallpaper. Chipping. Fading.
There were more echoes of the past. Dark mold clung around ghostly shapes of posters, strangely shaped equipment, and long-gone furniture - the shape of a piano was in one corner and the outline of a fine-china cabinet was in another. The linoleum floor was cracked and warped revealing wooden panels beneath. The room smelt of mildew, and there was the faint sound of dripping water from somewhere.
Sunghoon sat down on his chair, the aged wood creaking under his weight. It was strange. Looking down the row of chairs, he could see ghosts of themselves. Jungwon with his wide dark brown eyes. Sunoo clinging to his stuffed bear that he loved so much. Riki’s feet dangling off his chair, too short for his feet to touch the floor yet. He could smell the disinfectant in the air. It always smelt like bleach and chemicals in the solarium despite the large windows lining the walls. They never were opened, white curtains drawn shut. Even now they remained, yellowed with age and soggy with mold.
He had spent so much time here. They all had but he could walk this room with his eyes shut and he wouldn’t have bumped into one piece of furniture or step on one creaking piece of plank of wood in the flooring.
He let out a sigh; his eyes shutting as he tried to calm his racing heart. This was the exact reason they had to return to the mansion. They needed to. Too many memories, too many connections, too many emotions. Sunghoon hoped Jay was alright.
“I found him,” a voice called out, the tone gentle and melodic as usual.
Sunghoon’s lips upturned as he turned away from the past to look at Sunoo. With his bleach blonde hair peeking out from beneath a beanie, his leathered jacket, and tattered jeans, it was easy to be reminded of reality. Sunoo was not a little boy with dark black hair clinging to a stuffed animal anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time.
The linoleum squeaked beneath Sunoo’s shoes as he walked into the large room.
“Wow,” he breathed softly. “I thought seeing the rooms were weird.”
He sighed out, the sound mimicking the breath Sunghoon had heaved moments earlier.
“It’s weird for sure,” Sunghoon said, rising to his feet after a long stretch with his head tilting back as far as it could before straightening and standing.
There was a rustling like a wind brushing through the room. And with it, the world melted away, glowing faintly, just enough to paint the room in a nostalgic light. The wallpaper was honeycombed pale blue; the ceiling fan overhead spun slowly; the room was casted with natural and gas light. A table sat in the center, circular and covered in a white sheet. 7 dining spots were set, a plate, a fork, and a papered cup, each. Each of their chairs were in their spot – polished wood gleaming in the light.
The sound of piano playing a familiar melody that they all had once help create.
Sunoo smiled at Sunghoon. His hair looked darker now in the allusion, his face rounder. His teeth were duller.
“Sunoo,” Sunghoon pleaded, shutting his eyes. “Please don’t.”
With that, the allusion washed away like a chalk painting on a rainy day, turning grey and muddied until the aged room was all that remained. The younger frowned.
“I hate this place,” Sunghoon murmured.
“Same,” Jay’s voice chimed in.
Their heads swung around to see the other man enter the doorway. He grimaced at the sight of the blue room. Jay leaned on the door frame, his hands resting on either side of the door.
“Jungwon’s all done. You guys ready?”
Sunoo took a deep breath in, and Jay winced.
“Sunoo,” he sighed out, taking a step forward almost instinctively.
“I’m fine,” Sunoo insisted, immediately.
His smile was sweet as a spoonful of sugar, wide eyes gentle as he shifted on his feet. Twisting restlessly, his arms spun a bit as he did so, childlike. Jay raised a singular brow before turning towards Heeseung’s call from down the hall.
He didn’t believe Sunoo for a moment. But all Sunoo did was avoid the elder’s gaze, glancing aside, his gaze gravitating to the chairs this time. His chair looked so tiny now. Was it always that small?
“C’mon,” Jay gestured towards them with his head. “They’re waiting.”
With one final look, Sunghoon left the solarium, passing Jay with a steady look in his eye. Jay returned it, sympathy echoing on his face. Sunoo stood there, his hands moving to play with the straps of his backpack.
“You think I’ll feel better?” Sunoo questioned, quietly.
“We all will once we’re done,” Jay commented, leaning on the door frame. It creaked with his weight tauntingly. Jay glanced down the chairs lined up beside him. His chair was missing an arm now.
“I think it’ll help.” He admitted, not looking at the younger. “You’ve been holding onto it for so long, Sunoo.”
There was a tiny hum in the back of Sunoo’s throat. Jay could feel the emotions radiating off of him, the twisted emotions of nostalgia, hurt, pain, sorrow, and strangely euphoria. Jay didn’t understand how Sunoo could feel any happy memories here.
Sunoo shouldered his backpack off and unzipped it. Inside was a stuffed bear. Greying with age, covered in stitches and makeshift patches of fabric to keep his stuffing from tumbling out. He was damaged but well-loved. Old but cared for. Sunoo plucked the thing up. The fur wasn’t soft anymore despite its age. No amount of cuddling made it more gentle, it was always harsh against his skin. He swallowed, looking over at the bear.
Jay glanced aside.
Sunoo breathed out, a thumb brushing over a glass eye, over the worn silk of the ribbon around its neck. With another shuddering breath in, Sunoo placed the bear on his chair. He sat so nicely as if meant for it.
“It’s time,” Sunoo whispered.
“It is,” Jay agreed, watching as Sunoo picked up his now empty backpack.
With quick footsteps, Sunoo exited the solarium without another look. Jay glanced around it once last time before shutting the door behind them with a clank. The two men walked through the mansion, down a dusty hallway. Their feet remembered each creaky floorboard as they continued onwards.
The foyer was all wood and white peeling paint. A singular electric light hung by a chain above the group of men standing in a semi-circle. Waiting for them.
Jungwon’s face was stoney and serious, but at the sight of the others he offered a tight-lipped smile.
“All good?” he asked.
Jay nodded in reply for the group. “Yeah, just checking out the solarium.”
Sunghoon’s hands trembled he noticed then; he hid them in his jeans’ pockets.
“I’m so ready for this place to be nothing but a memory – for good,” Niki commented from his side, his voice sounding harsh as he glared at the high ceilings. The stairwell nearby casted a shadow over his face.
Heeseung said nothing but there was a tickle in the back of their heads – his agreement palpable. Sunoo was quiet as he went to Jungwon’s side. He didn’t grab his arm, but he huddled close. Jay rubbed his forehead as he nodded.
He wanted all of this to be over.
“Let’s do it then.” Jake said. His fingers began to glow, ember hot red.
Dark red eyes took in the mansion for the last time before they glanced at each other. A solemn nod from Jungwon was all they needed before they crept outside of the mansion. Jake’s hands trailed over the wall; it would be described as reverently if there wasn’t such a deep scowl on his pretty features. His lip was curled back into a grimace as flames licked from his fingertips and onto the century old wood of the mansion. A complicated look flickered over his face as he watched the fire catch, a surge of flames erupting up the white paint and traveling higher and higher until they caught onto the ceiling.
“That should do,” he heard Heeseung’s voice in his head, encouraging Jake to join the group outside the burning mansion. As he did so, Jungwon closed the front door with a heavy slam.
-
With a slam, the door thudded shut, piquing the interest of the two boys peering down from in between the stairwell’s posts. Two small faces pressed against the wooden balusters as they watched a man enter the mansion. White coat, spectacles, and carrying two leather bags that were heavy in his grasp. Behind him stood a trio of nurses in their pastel-mint, perfectly pressed dresses and ivory aprons and caps.
“It’s a doctor,” the elder whispered to his friend. Their eyes widened as they focused back far below them.
The doctor glanced upwards, hearing their small voice. He smiled. His footsteps echoed on the floorboards as he went towards the manager’s office.
“Is someone sick?” the other boy hugging his toy bear whispered back.
“No,” the other shook his head. “I don’t think so. . . “
“Maybe they want to adopt one of us?” the younger offered, fiddling with the bow on the bear’s neck.
“Maybe.”
There was a loud thud as the doctor and his entourage entered the manager’s office. The door’s lock sliding into place was even louder. The youngest flinched, fiddling with the silk on the bow even more, soothingly.
“Let’s go tell the others.” The elder said encouragingly, standing from his spot to rush down the upstairs hall to the bedrooms.
-
Not long later, the orphans stood in a line by height, much to the despair of the eldest who was still shorter than the youngers. Each one was examined. An illuminator shined into their brown eyes, into their tiny mouth. A nurse took down notes that the doctor murmured behind his medical mask.
Tapetum lucidum, negative. Tapetum lucidum, negative. Tapetum lucidum, negative.
Number 6 and 11, primary. Number 6 and 11, permanent. Loose number 11, primary.
Their blood was drawn in multiple small vials later by the nurses. Some of the youngest struggled with the blood draw, afraid of needles and blood. A nurse said with a cool smile, “You’ll get used to it.”
This wouldn’t be the first time they’d line up like this. Sometimes, it was weekly; other times, it was daily. Medical notes needed to be updated frequently was all the doctor said.
Then came the pills. They took at least one with every meal; some of them took more than others. When Jay had asked a nurse why were they taking them (they hadn’t taken any ever before!), she had reassured him it was for his well-being. Good boys take their medicine. She chirped out.
The old white-haired manager welcomed the doctor to set up an office in an unused music room, pushing the piano out into the hallway where it sat, taller than most of the boys.
Rules around the mansion began to change soon after. There would be no more adoption visits, no more potential guardians for the time being. No more new additions to the household either. The orphanage’s manager, the old woman with ashy white hair, had smiled at them around the table at dinner time. Each in their chair donated by the nearby town, mismatched like themselves.
She said this was for the best. That this was a way for them to be good boys of society.
They took their pills that waited for them in a small paper cup.
There was another change. No more outside time. No visits into town. No visitors at all. Their solarium that they had once used for potential adoptive parents to meet them turned into a sort of common room, a living room and dining hall all in one. A table for meals had been set up with a white sheet covering its surface. A collection of their toys sat in a corner with a rocking chair that was nearly falling apart. The piano had been pushed inside by the older boys; two raggedy repatched sofas were there as well to lounge about on. As they grew, a bookshelf was shoved against the wall next to the manager’s fine china cabinet (that they were to never touch or else they’d be punished.) It was where they would live, play, assemble for meals, and assemble for treatment. That was their outside now. A tiny blue wall-papered solarium with humidity fogged windows, covered in white lacy curtains.
They complained at first. These changes were horrible. They loved playing outside on the apple tree’s swing and the nearby flower fields. They wouldn’t go into town but let them play outside, please. But, when any of them tried to sneak outside, their punishments grew.
First, it had been the addition of heavy-padlocked entrances and exits that only the doctor, manager, and head nurse held the keys for. When the youngest stole the head nurse’s key when she wasn’t looking (to go play on the swing on the yard’s apple tree), they were quickly limited to only the manager. When the most-sensitive of the group crept outside a window to go pet a stray cat on the back porch, the isolation room was introduced.
It was a bare dusty thing– an old dance room that was used when there were girl orphans. Once it had become an all-boy’s orphanage, it was left abandoned, cold, and grimy. It was dark; there was only candle-based lighting in that room. Gas lighting was slowly being introduced to the cities and towns of new, and, while some of the house had the trailing, twisting wires leading to easily burnt-out light bulbs, the isolation room didn’t. Two floor-to-ceiling walls of cracking mirrors decorated opposite walls of the room with a barre screwed into one of them. Another wall was old brick, harsh and unwelcoming. It felt like an endless room if you stared long enough into the mirrors. A room where you’d be locked away until you were more well-behaved. To think about your actions. (Which were what? Leaving the house they were trapped in? They didn’t understand why things had to change.) The youngest hated the room.
He became very familiar with the room throughout the following years.
-
It was a slow life. They grew taller; they lost baby teeth; they celebrated birthdays. Their medicine increased and decreased; their rooms grew more familiar. The isolation room became common-place especially as some of the boys edged into teenagerhood. Soon, the doctor moved into the office. Soon, there were even more tests. More pills, even injections. Their halls reeked of antiseptic and the metallic tang of medical equipment. The manager passed away on Jay’s twelfth birthday, but nothing much changed except for the fine-china cabinet being raided and left empty – by who the boys never knew for sure.
The pills continued. The examinations continued.
-
Jungwon was the first to be considered a success by the doctor.
He was no older than ten when he discovered his new talent – speed. Indoor races back and forth in the solarium became easy; in fact, he kept teasing the others that he was faster, faster, faster than them all. But it wasn’t just speed he discovered: it was hunger. A hunger that crawled in the pit of his stomach. A hunger that was a maw to all food.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
Nothing satiated it. Nothing until he snapped at a nurse. Bit into her arm with the feral nature of a dog captured. A fit of anger, a tantrum, the doctor had noted at first until… until… there was a growl, inhuman. Deep in the young boy’s chest. The boy, the sweet friendly boy who hated the pills ever so much, glared up at the doctor. Red eyes, red mouth, white fangs.
Instead of being scolded that evening and tossed into isolation, he was given the sweetest treat he had ever tasted. A red jelly that jiggled like a belly while laughing. But smelt of iron-blood.
He was a success. He deserved to be celebrated.   
The others followed swiftly.
-
Heeseung hated the pills they were forced to ingest. Wake up; pills. Lunch; pills. Dinner; pills. Pills, pills, pills. He hated them. He hadn’t been there the longest – that title went to Jungwon, but he was the eldest of the boys. So, since day one of the doctor’s arrival, he had a higher dose of everything until it was proven unhealthy for the boy. What was unhealthy was difficult to determine apparently. He’d vomit; his stomach cramped. He’d be trembling with chills and hot with a fever within hours. He was bedridden; he was exhausted; he was jittery.
He had seven pills in his cup. Why? Why? Jay had two pills!
He asked why; they didn’t tell him. When his symptoms grew, Heeseung tried to figure out how to feel better. Take more pills, take less. Nothing worked. His body weening from the medicine was just as bad as taking the medicine he realized. His skin crawled. His head felt like it was going to explode. Sometimes he couldn’t bear the sunlight touching his skin. It burned his eyes, forcing him to stay in his room. Once he tried to hide his pills. He tucked them into his pillow, threw them out the window. When it was discovered by one of the trio of nurses, he wasn’t punished. He simply was force-fed the pills rather than allowing himself to drop each tablet on his tongue. That happened for a month. After that he didn’t challenge them again. Grimacing, he’d swallow down the pills pressed against his mouth. Always at the supervision of a too-calm nurse with a sick smile on her perfectly lipsticked lips.
He tried to talk to Jungwon, but Jungwon didn’t talk much anymore. He simply stared. Stared and stared as he sat at the head of the dinner table, plate empty. Eyes empty. When was the last time he saw his friend smile… eat… It scared him. Sometimes Heeseung swore he could hear his voice in his head.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
Can’t. Can’t. Can’t.
Control. Control. Control.
Heeseung would itch and writhe and change until he too couldn’t stand the taste of food. Couldn’t swallow another bite of rice. Until he tried to attack his nurse as she fed him his pills. With aching teeth and a gnawing stomach, he bit his nurse’s hand as she forced the pills down his throat. Heeseung thought her blood tasted sweeter than any treat he’s ever tasted.
That night at the dinner table, there were now only five plates full of food and two bare. It was also the first time Jungwon heard another voice in his head, one that sounded like the eldest without him opening his mouth. Their dark rubied eyes locked.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Heeseung chanted in Jungwon’s head. 
-
The youngest Riki, often called by the nickname ‘Niki’ after he stumbled over his own name in introductions at the orphanage, was exceptionally difficult. He spat out his pills; he’d get placed in isolation. He fought with the others; he’d get placed in isolation. He stole Sunoo’s bear; isolation. Far too often, he was in the locked room. Solidarity confinement to encourage him to play nice. It just made him feel invisible and hurt – especially when none of the boys visited him.
Except for Sunoo who loved to act as older brother to the younger (despite holding his stuffed animal close to his chest everywhere he went in the mansion). He’d sit outside the isolation room’s door, whispering ‘hello’s underneath the door’s gap or peering through the keyhole to see each other and wave his bear’s paw at him. Riki would tease him about his stupid bear, but then he’d cling to his own pillow as the nurses began to inject whatever was in the pills into his arm. It was then proven that he was no troublemaker, just a lost little boy clinging to a pillow as another shot was pressed into his arm. Tears trickled down his cheeks.
Riki hadn’t taken the pills in a while, not like his hyungs. He told his doctor that he liked the pills. Can’t he take the pills again? He wouldn’t spit them out, promise! The injections hurt. His arm would ache. Then, his stomach would ache. Then, his head would ache. He’d toss and turn on the examination table in agony.
It went on for so long. Sometimes the others would hear his cries at night, whimpering for a mother or father that wasn’t there. Eventually, Jungwon would sneak out at night, too fast to catch, and rest on the floor outside of the isolated room to whisper comfort to the youngest.
It’ll be okay. You’re okay.
I’m here, Riki. I’m here.
With the sadness, the loneliness, the pain, there was a violence brewing in Riki after each check-up. He was angry, no, beyond that, he was rageful. He wished the nurses, the doctor, the manager of the orphanage, could feel what he felt – like time had stopped. He found out one day that his birthday had passed with no celebration.
“It was a lesson,” a nurse warned as she drew his blood. “Good boys get to celebrate fun things.”
He watched as his blood filled the vial with disdain. It looked sludge-thick, dark red.
He craved something he didn’t understand right then. His stomach curdled and ached. But food tasted of ash, of dirt, of everything bad. Bad, bad, bad. He refused to eat, gnashing teeth at anything they offered. He wouldn’t even drink a sip of blood when it was finally presented to him. In an unassuming white Dixie Cup. He threw it at the doctor, growling.
“Ungrateful boy,” the doctor hissed out.
Hungry, he thought.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
He needed food, not blood!
They had to restrain him, a shackle on his ankle to the nearby brick wall of the isolation room… until he tore it away from the wall it was mounted in. Until his hunger blinded him in blood-red. Until he was somehow out of his room, on the other side of the locked door. Until he was tearing his fangs into the first person he saw – into the neck of his friend who often came to sit outside his bolted-room door to talk. Sunoo.
-
Sunoo had been born by the bite rather than the pill. Riki had drained him near dry before the nurses had found them in a daze. He was half-dead, and the only way he was recovered was through Jungwon. His blood was siphoned into the dying veins of Sunoo. His venom; his blood; their venom; their blood.
Sunoo’s eyes flashed opened, and he saw only red for a moment. Vermillion haze. Until he saw his friends, his so-called brothers, peering over at him on the makeshift medical bed. His throat ached, but he simply smiled. Fangs and all.
He suffered the most after his transformation. Unlike the others whose symptoms came and went in waves, building gradually before they succumbed, he went through everything at the same time. He couldn’t go into daylight, couldn’t bear the touch of the sun or the glare of lights; he was hungry all the time and would attack for it. He’d try to bite his brothers; he’d eat scrapes he’d find from the night’s dinner; he’d vomit. Anger would overwhelm – he even tore the limbs off his beloved stuffed bear which left him crying inconsolably. He felt like he wasn’t even himself. Unsafe.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
His feet moved so fast one day; some thought he was levitating… until they realized he was. If he was scared or hungry or anything, he’d fly away, hide away in a closet. He’d hug his stitched-up bear close to him, whispering words with sharpened teeth. All the while he hoped this was all a nightmare he’d wake up from.
Sunoo learned, if he tried hard enough, he could live in his mind. Making up a world he loved. Where he felt safe. Sometimes if someone was close to him, they could see his fantasy world too. So bright, so beautiful. Only for it to eventually fade away into this. A mansion of horrors.
-
At this point, the boys had been divided up. Half remained in the solarium, the other half in their bedrooms. The solarium had been converted into a horrible makeshift medical office. White bedsheets were draped about, over the bookshelf, the table, their chairs, the sofa. Everything. Medical equipment – syringes, needles, pills, IV drips. A machine that beeped with their heart beats. They were poked and prodded. Doses were increased.
Jake. Jay. Sunghoon. Grew. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
-
Jake had a strange case of side effects. Hot and cold. He was cold. Icy to the touch. He felt half-dead for days before breaking out into a fever. So hot and restless. He’d sink down in icy baths for hours. He felt more like he was half-fish than human sometimes.
He’d rest his forehead against the cool bathtub’s porcelain and breath in and out only for that once icy cold water to become boiling hot. His hands glowed, heat pulsing from them as the water bubbled about him. He’d throw himself out of the tub, scalding hot water sloshing onto the tiles below.
Nurses would run in. Fearful only for him to look at them, eyes strangely bloody, and his hands sparking with fire.
He was locked up like Riki once was. With the addition of flame-retardant gloves and chains tight on his hands. He was quiet when they did so. He grew quieter and quieter as the days passed. With hot flashes, cold flashes, hunger flashes, he felt like a live wire.
Sometimes, when he was bored, he’d stare at the lights, blinding white lights until they’d burst. Until he flooded the electric grid and the entire house suffered power outages. He didn’t know how he did it. All he knew was that he could. Something was wrong.  
One day, when he felt cold as ice with a stomach gasping with hunger, the smell of food disgusted him. The nurse sent to feed him his porridge made the wrong move. Unclasping his shackles, undoing his gloves. He pounced, more monster than man and bit her, drained her. There were no other nurses rushing in; there was no doctor to stop him. Jake didn’t stop drinking, drinking, drinking until it was just him and the corpse of a nurse he’d known for half of his life. He passed out in a fever soon after, still hungry he realized pathetically.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
He was found by the doctor hours later. His mouth was cleaned, his clothes cleaned; he was laying in his bed and not the isolation room. The nurse was gone. Where had she gone? The young teen stared up with blood-red eyes. The doctor smiled and said everything was okay now. He was forgiven.
A cup of blood was handed to him in a paper cup.
Jake took it, knowing he was freed from his cage, his restraints gone, but somehow still a prisoner to a new shackle he didn’t want to bear.
-
From day one, Jay had always listened to the nurses, had listened to their manager, had listened to the doctor. For years, he listened and obeyed. He was a good patient, a good boy. Trusting their words as they fed him pill after pill, shot after shot. No matter how much he cried when his arm ached or his stomach churned. They’d say he was a good boy for taking his medicine. “Why couldn’t you be good like Jay?” He had heard that said hundreds of times.
So, it was funny how miserable he felt. How bad like a rotten apple sitting in the sun. Jay just felt awful. His friends one by one turned into someone unlike themself. Biting, blood, red eyes. Everyone felt angry… he didn’t know how he knew it but he did. Sometimes, if he stared at them long enough, he could just tell.
The nurse was upset today. She was sad and guilty… they tasted like the smell of rain, like salty soup.
Another nurse hadn’t come into care for them. Maybe she was with the others? He couldn’t tell.
Sunghoon was lonely; it tasted like woodchips, like dust in the corners of a room. Jay tried to play a game with him, but soon their different symptoms distracted them. A headache, nausea, exhaustion.   
The doctor was never angry. He wasn’t sad either. He was so joyful at their suffering. Jay could taste it like it was liquid sugar, melting on his tongue. Jay hated him. Sometimes he hoped the doctor could feel it when he glared at him. Sometimes Jay swore he did, when he’d flinch or take too sharp of breath in.
While Jay was one of the eldest, he was one of the last to change fully. He was stuck between food and blood for a long time. Unlike the others, his eyes didn’t turn red when he was given a cup of blood. He drank it down like a good boy, but it didn’t have the same effect as the others. So, they’d mix some blood into his soups, his porridge, his rice. Everything a pale pink. He’d throw it up. Food disagreeing with him; blood disagreeing with him. More tests had him hooked up to IVs, and his blood tested.
The nurses said it was his will not the treatment’s fault. The duo said they saw him hungry during their blood-draws; they said they saw how he’d lick his lips whenever the blood from his own veins dripped into the vial.
Blood called to him like a siren from a fairytale.
The first time he attacked the doctor for his blood was the last time he drank from a human who was awake. Their pain, their emotions flaring, he felt it then. Understood it then. It bittered everything. It hurt. He hated it. He hated it all.
He drank blood from an IV. From a cup. From the jelly the nurses made. Never from another being. Even if his stomach growled and the maw inside him whispered: Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
Jay refused to be a monster.
-
Sunghoon was last to change. The loneliest. He was kept away from the boys after they turned one by one. Locked away in the solarium, he slept there, ate, read. Every now and then, Jungwon would visit him by the window. One warm hand pressed against the glass, larger than Jungwon’s cold palm.
He felt weak. Not only was he somehow not changing to whatever his friends were – but he was exhausted daily. Laying in the solarium, he began to sleep during the day, staying awake all night. As time pass alone, his tests grew worse. His muscles were deteriorating. Like his body was eating away at him. Pain became Sunghoon.
They whispered; he heard them. Should they use the others’ blood? Their venom? But Sunoo was so feral; he apparently had just begun to adjust. Could they handle another boy acting so erratic?
He couldn’t understand that he was dying. He was in a blur; sometimes it felt like the world would just blend into a watercolored haze, and he’d be outside his body. He knew where the nurses were, the doctor, the other boys. Their hearts, their breaths, their muscles flexed as his deteriorated. It was strange, scary.
It wasn’t until one day there was a horrible cracking sound from his body, unearthly. Inhumanly monstrous but also frighteningly fragile that the doctor simply force-fed him blood. Just regular blood. No venom, no medicine, no Jungwon or Riki or Jay or Heeseung.
It was vile. Blood wasn’t meant for humans. . . was he a human? He didn’t know anymore. The blood was poured down his throat. Head tilted back; nose plugged. Iron-sick, ruby-slick, he’d cough and cough as he sat up from his ‘feeding.’ Blood dripped down his chin, staining his sweater.
“You look better,” said the doctor with a disgustingly joyful smile. A bright light shined in his eyes made him blearily blink.
“Tapetum lucidum, positive.” The doctor said pleasantly, to the nearby nurse before clicking the illuminator off.
Red eyes, red mouth, baby fangs. It took time, but they grew and elongated after two weeks of forced blood drinking 3 times a day. Despite his hunger, Sunghoon hated blood. He didn’t want it; he didn’t want the hunger.
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.
The next time, on day fifteen, he drank willingly. Not just one cup but seven.
-
The examinations didn’t stop. The medicine didn’t stop. Even after all of this, they were forced to drink this blood and their pills.
The only difference was that they finally weren’t separated. The day they were reunited was strange. Waves of emotions only led to the boys staring at one another like strangers. Some looked so different. Sunghoon hadn’t seen Jungwon in over a year. He almost didn’t recognize him. Riki was taller. Sunoo clung to Jungwon’s arm. Jake looked like a ghost.
“The family is back together,” the doctor cheered as they all sat in the solarium together for the first time in months.
Rubied eyes stared at the doctor, silent.
“Let’s take a photograph to commemorate this!” a nurse chimed out.
There was only one nurse left now – they didn’t know where the second one went. Sitting together on a white draped sofa, the seven didn’t smile. They simply stared as the large contraption was set up on spindly metal legs. With a crack of a light bulb, the photograph was taken.
Their eyes looked eerily pale in the monochrome photo, like a dog’s at night. The doctor was the only one grinning ear to ear. A flicker of a fang was visible in Riki’s grimace.
Photographs of their mouths and eyes were taken that day, too. Sometimes Heeseung wonders if it was all for that from the start.
-
“We should leave,” Jay whispered one night.
The boys - no, they weren’t boys; they hadn’t been boys in a long time – they were men, teenagers with the tempers of children and the hunger of a monster – they sat inside Jungwon’s bedroom, a common gathering place solely due to the bright moon outside of his window. None of them had windows – too much of a risk. But, Jungwon had been such a good boy. Such a success.
Jungwon just simply knew what the nurses and doctor wanted. A doll. A research subject. So he was that, a scientific silent thing. But here he’d stroke his Sunoo’s head as he curled into his lap, still clinging to his bear. Here, Jungwon’s rubied eyes that stared blankly at dinners and breakfasts were round and empathetic as he nodded along with Jay. Here he was himself – as much of himself as he could be with the constant growl of the Beast in his ear.
“We need to get out of here.” He agreed.
“But what if—what if we need them?” A tentative voice asked.
It was a strange thing to feel – a need towards those who had harmed them. A double-edged sword. The experiments hadn’t stopped. The medicine hadn’t stopped. They were still being tested on despite their changes. But… this was all they knew. They’ve never went past the town, never breached past the tree-line. What if it was worse… alone?
Despite their hunger. Sunoo’s voice was fragile.
“We don’t need them,” Riki bit out, arms crossed. As the youngest, he was still the most volatile; Heeseung summed it up to teenage hormones.
There was a beat as a wave of calm settled over them like a cool mist from a forest, like the minty way your mouth felt after brushing them with toothpaste.
“Jay,” Jake whispered, half-scolding.
He knew it was him; Jake never felt so at peace nowadays, only when Jay manipulated the emotions of the room to his will. Jay flashed a bashful smile, red cheeked.
“We don’t need them,” Jungwon redirected the conversation, firmly.
“What could be worse?” Sunghoon bit out, eyes staring up at the moon. His head leaned against the window pane.
“Dying,” it was not said but thought. Each of the vampires could hear the voice of Heeseung echoing in the back of their minds like it was their own thought.
Riki shivered. “I hate when you do that,” he mumbled.
“Sorry,” Heeseung muttered. He didn’t know how to quite control it yet. His thoughts were like a stream connected to a river and that river to a larger ocean. Sometimes they flowed into others.
“Okay,” Jungwon huffed. Sunoo nuzzled into his arm sleepily. “Dying isn’t an option. We can’t.”
“We’ve been through all of this just to die?” Riki added, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight against the wall. “No way.”
“What if we are hungry…?” Sunoo asked.
When weren’t they? Even Jungwon struggled with his hunger, he had bitten his fair share of the remaining nurses. It was silent. What would they do?
“We can stock up before we leave,” Jay said, hand going through his hair as he tried to block out the ranging emotions around him. Excitement, nervousness, fear, anxiousness. It was making him sick to his stomach.
“And after?” Another asked.
“We’ll figure it out.” Sunghoon said, quietly. Optimistically. He raised a brow as he looked over the others. As the fledgling among them, the youngest in terms of whatever this curse was, he was most prone to outbursts for blood. If he could try, they could.
Heeseung looked at the room, once over. “We figure it out,” he agreed.
“Together.”
-
Their break-out wasn’t a simple thing planned in one night under a full moon. It took a month of planning. Of preparing. Stealing IV bags of blood when the nurse was busied – some of them causing problems, so they could grab more. They were hiding them in the glass fine china cabinet in the solarium; it had rested empty and covered by a white sheet for years now. No one checked there. When the cabinet was full, they began tucking the blood bags into pillows and mattresses they had gutted with the strange claws they realized they were starting to have. If they focused, they’d grow, thicken into incredibly sharp nails.
One night, Jungwon even hid some of the pills they were forced to swallow down – just in case – in a place no one would ever look. He was quick, grabbing all he could. Inhumanly fast, he looked this way and that – just waiting for the nurses to return. In his hurry, he grabbed other bottles strewn about that had unknown names - ferrous sulfate, calciferol, allium sativum, melatonin.
It was a cold November night when they planned to leave – but they didn’t know it; after all, experiments didn’t need to know the date, or the time, or the year.
They went off the moon. Each day a sliver of the moon grew and grew larger. It was supposed to be a full moon that night. Yet when the moon peeked around the tall trees outside Jungwon’s window, it was strange. Reddish, bright, bloody.
“It’s fate,” Sunghoon had whispered as they waited in the shadows of Jungwon’s bedroom.
A blood moon for the vampires.
With the doctor drugged, forced to drink down the mixture of pill Jungwon had found (Riki had dropped in his nightly tea like they were forced to down blood), they crept down the stairs.
It was quiet. The snores of the doctor echoed down the hall. Their feet dodged the creaking parts of the wooden floor. The vampires clung to belongings – tied up into makeshift sacks made of bedding. Thick winter coats covered their layers of clothes. Sunoo held his bear.
Heeseung’s voice rang out in their head.
“Sunghoon’s going to get the key.” It was whispered in their minds, almost as if he was afraid that he’d be heard even there.
It was in the doctor’s office.
They froze in the entry-way, the foyer feeling colder by the second despite their inability to feel the chill (really, even their layered clothes were just out of habit – weren’t they supposed to feel cold in winter?) Their breaths were low, dark eyes flickering between each other as they waited. Sunghoon wasn’t the quickest like Jungwon. But he had a sense to him, that was unlike any of them. Like warning bells were built into his head.
It was almost too easy. Until it wasn’t.
“Hey – what are you--?” the doctor cried out, shaken awake.
Were the pills a fluke? Riki’s eyes went wide, frightened at the sound. Sunoo grabbed onto Jay. There was the sound of fighting, grunts. A thunk against a wall.
Jungwon leaned forward, wanting to run to help but Heeseung’s hand reached out to stop him.
“I got it,” Sunghoon yelled out, the sound like a scream in the quiet silence.
He rushed out of the room; the wooden door slamming against the wall. A clambering of footsteps followed him.
“Get back here, you brat,” the doctor yelled.
Sunghoon felt more alive than ever. He ran fast. Riki stared down the doctor, shaking against the doorway. He wanted him to just stop, stop, stop. They had to get out of here.
To his surprise, the doctor did. He froze. Mid step, floating in the air. His sleep-hat caught in the air. Glasses askew. Not only did the doctor stop but so did his friends… no, his family. He glanced around. Jungwon was to his left, hand on the door knob, ready to unlock the door. Heeseung had grabbed Jake’s hand. Sunoo was curling towards Jay. Riki’s breath burned in his throat as he held onto it with all his might. He took a small nervous step… nothing else shifted. He was the only one to be able to step forward.
And he did. He walked over to Sunghoon. His hair was flopping mid-air, teeth bared, fangs sharp. His hand held the key tightly. With ease, Riki slipped it out of his blood-brother’s hand. Bounding over to the door, he turned the lock. There was a chill climbing up his spine, his breath electric in his lungs. Opening the door, he let out his held breath in a single gasp. With it, the world to come rushing to action. But there was no contest, no obstacle now. A door was open with the darkness outside pouring into the mansion.
The boys simple ran out the door, bewildered to how it was opened and unlocked. Sunghoon glanced at his hand for only a moment before ignoring the impossibility of the world and sprinting harder. He’d take the miracle. Maybe it was really fate. Fate for them to escape.
They broke past the tree-line, hooting and hollering as they continued to run and run and run. Away from the mansion and into their new lives.
The doctor huffed and puffed glaring out into the darkness, only made darker under the blood moon. Today’s experiment yielded a result – vampires were faster than a middle-aged man. He would find them one day. He would. The door of the mansion was shut behind a livid doctor with a heavy thud.
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trixy812 · 1 day ago
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nanami smut one shot plsplslpslpls plz !!
First time
{Nanami Kento x reader}
ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: kento nanami x reader (boyfriend x girlfriend), fluff, smut!, mdni, first time, Nanami!Virgin, no protection
ִֶָ࣪☾. Synopsis: It was inevitable. Nanami was going to lose his virginity to you
ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: Sorry it took me longer than expected! It's been crazy and a little bit sad days. This is the second Omake of my Nanami x reader series :) it can also been read as a one-shote. This is my first time wrting smut it was really difficult (normally I write everything in spanish first and then I translate it and Man! sex words are hard to translate!
pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4
Reader meets Gojo
First time
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
The karaoke lights had been soft and almost romantic that night, but the heat between you and Nanami had reached an almost unbearable point. The kisses, the furtive touches sneaking under clothing, the palpable desire surrounding you both—it had been too much. At some moment, particularly when you had deftly and proudly unbuttoned and unzipped your irresistible boyfriend’s pants while still tangling your tongue with his, you were on the verge of freeing his pulsating erection from his boxers… when Nanami stopped you.
“Not here,” he said in a husky voice, his hands still gripping your hips. “This isn’t how I want our first time to be.”
At first, you felt a pang of frustration, but you understood what he meant. However, now, a few days later, something had shifted. Nanami was still attentive and loving, but there was a certain physical distance, as if something was holding him back. He no longer kissed you with the same urgency or held you by the waist with that passion that made you feel completely his.
Your mind, traitorous as ever, began whispering insecurities.
Maybe he doesn’t like you that much. Maybe he doesn’t desire you like you desire him. Maybe you’re not enough.
It had been a week since Nanami noticed something was different about you. It was almost imperceptible: a distraction in your eyes, a pause before replying to his messages. At first, he said nothing, preferring to give you space, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of something being wrong gnawed at him.
That afternoon, after your last class of the day, as often as his schedule allowed, Nanami came to pick you up. But instead of the animated chatter that usually filled the walks, you were silent, your gaze fixed on the ground. Nanami noted your unease, and although he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t.
When you reached your apartment, you turned to him with a tired smile.
“Thanks for walking me home, Kento. I’ll see you another day, okay?”
He frowned, placing a hand on the doorframe to stop you from closing the door.
“What’s going on?”
“What? Nothing, I’m just tired, that’s all,” you said, avoiding his gaze.
“You know I’m not stupid. Something’s bothering you, and you’d rather carry it alone than tell me,” he said with his usual calm tone, but there was a tension in his voice that made you step back.
You huffed, crossing your arms.
“It’s nothing important, Kento. I don’t want to bother you with silly things.”
“Let me decide what’s important or not,” he replied, stepping into the apartment uninvited.
You sighed, closing the door behind him. “Fine, if you insist…” You hesitated for a moment. Nanami was already sitting in one of the two chairs at your small dining table, so you decided to sit down as well.
“Is it that… you don’t find me attractive?”
The question caught him off guard. His eyes widened more than usual.
“What? Where is this coming from?”
“It’s just that…” You lowered your gaze, fidgeting with your hands. “After what happened at the karaoke, I feel like you’re different. Like you don’t want to touch me or kiss me anymore. And I’d understand if it’s because you’re not that into me, but… it makes me sad.”
“Y/N, that’s not true. Not at all,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re beautiful. I’m so attracted to you that sometimes I think I’ll lose my mind just looking at you.”
Nanami seemed at a loss for words for a moment. He stood up slowly from the chair and knelt in front of you so your eyes were level with his.
“Then what’s going on?” you asked, tears welling up in your eyes. “Why does it feel like you don’t want to be close to me in that way anymore?”
“I’m nervous,” he confessed, lowering his gaze for a moment before meeting yours again. “That night at karaoke… I wanted to keep going. Really. But I thought it wouldn’t be fair to you, or to me… And after that, I started overthinking everything.”
Nanami sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked uncomfortable but determined to explain himself.
“Overthinking what?” you asked, still confused.
“That I want it to be special for both of us. And that you’ve been with someone before.”
His confession left you stunned. “How do you know that?” Nanami ignored your question completely, not even reacting to it, and continued speaking.
“It’s just…” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I feel like I won’t be able to stop myself from comparing to that experience. I don’t want to disappoint you or make you think I don’t know what I’m doing.”
You looked at him, incredulous. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
Nanami nodded, clearly embarrassed. “I’ve even been reading books like The Key... Books that might help me… do better for you. I want it to be perfect, something you’ll never regret.”
The tenderness you felt for him in that moment was overwhelming. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, though your eyes still shimmered with tears. “Kento, you’re a complete idiot.”
Nanami frowned, clearly confused. “What?”
“The first time is never perfect,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t need you to read books or prepare like it’s an exam. I just want you to be with me.”
Nanami stared at you intently, his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own. His hand rose slowly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Y/N…” he murmured your name softly, but his tone carried an intensity, as if every ounce of adoration he felt for you was encapsulated in those letters.
He leaned in, and his lips met yours with an urgency that stole your breath away. It was a kiss filled with need, as if he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. His hands were far from idle. One rested on your cheek, cradling you like something precious and fragile, while the other slid down your arm to settle on your waist, pulling you closer.
Still seated, you leaned into him, your fingers finding their way into his blond hair, tangling in the strands with desperate affection.
The kiss deepened, and Nanami let out a soft sigh against your lips, as though releasing something he had been holding back for far too long. There was a fierceness in the way he kissed you, but also a meticulous care, as if he wanted to commit every detail of this moment to memory.
His lips parted just enough to let you both catch your breath, but not enough to break the moment. His half-lidded gaze met yours, his breathing ragged, and his lips slightly reddened from the fervent kiss.
Despite the unrestrained passion, you could tell Nanami was still nervous—not out of lack of desire, but because he was, after all, himself: a perfectionist, someone who wanted to give you his absolute best.
You felt butterflies in your stomach too, but it wasn’t fear or insecurity. It was determination. The disappointment of your first experience no longer intimidated you, because this was different. This was Nanami. And that changed everything.
"Stand up," you instructed, your voice steady. Without hesitation, he obeyed, now standing before you, his posture stiff, betraying the nerves he tried to hide.
Still seated, with your legs crossed, you kept your gaze fixed on him, feeling a rush of anticipation course through you. Your hands, steady yet gentle, reached for the waistband of his trousers. The motion was slow, almost ceremonial, as you felt the firmness of his abdomen beneath the fabric. Your fingers worked precisely, unbuttoning the top before carefully sliding down the zipper, the sound amplified in the quiet room.
As your hands lowered the fabric without hesitation, the tension in Nanami's body became evident. His muscles subtly tensed at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he remained perfectly still, allowing you to continue. Inside, you felt a surge of courage—not because you were experienced, but because Nanami’s own nerves paradoxically gave you strength. Someone had to take the lead, to be the strong one for both of you, and you were proud it could be you.
Sliding his trousers and underwear down his hips, you let them fall gently to his knees.
And there it was. A solid and imposing erection. Just the sight of it made your core ache, pulsing with the desire to feel something tangible.
Nanami took a deep breath, his eyes glancing to the side, unable to meet yours directly. His cheeks burned with a deep blush, and in a low, firm tone, he muttered:
"Never say again that you don’t attract me…” His voice faltered slightly before he continued, still avoiding your gaze. “Look... how hard you make me.”
Hearing his words, something ignited within you, and an overwhelming wave of desire surged through your body. You licked every inch of his testicles, letting your tongue trace along the length of his shaft. Taking as much of his erection as you could into your mouth, you began sucking and drawing him in with eager attention.
Nanami didn’t moan—he growled softly, expressing his pleasure through the guttural sounds that escaped him, showing just how much he appreciated the care you were giving his throbbing erection.
But just as he neared the brink, you paused, withdrawing your attention. It was your turn now.
Decisively, you slid out of your pants and underwear, revealing your center. Without breaking eye contact with Nanami, you grasped his wrists firmly and guided him down until he was kneeling before you. The intensity in his gaze revealed that any lingering nerves had been replaced by pure desire, his rapid breathing reflecting how much you affected him.
Gripping the backs of your knees, he pushed your legs apart, exposing your most intimate self.
Nanami, always so composed and reserved, now stared at your exposed sex with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your center. The warmth of his breath against you made your mind spiral.
As he tasted you for the first time, his eyes lit up in a way that was utterly uncharacteristic—a genuine, pure delight that disarmed him completely. You were delicious, and the realization left him undone.
In seconds, his usual restraint crumbled. He devoured you with unbridled enthusiasm, losing himself entirely in the act. For a moment, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami was gone, replaced by someone who savored every moment as if the world had narrowed to just you.
FLUTTER!
With a swift and decisive motion, Nanami reversed your positions. Now he sat in the chair, and you straddled his lap. This was the moment.
You brought your forehead to his, letting them rest against each other, and with one last kiss, you guided his erection clumsily but confidently to your waiting entrance. Holding your breath, you let him fill you completely.
"Nothing in my life has ever felt this good," Nanami thought.
You wrapped your arms around him, wanting him as close as possible. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he set a steady and fast rhythm. You could feel the heat building inside you as your bodies moved together in perfect sync.
Nanami’s rhythm faltered, and with a strained groan, he surrendered. The heat of his release filled you, leaving you trembling in his arms.
You shared a look, a smile, and one last passionate kiss.
Still holding him tightly, your forehead against his, you whispered:
“It was perfect.”
────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────
A/N: Nanami knows you are not a virgin anymore because one time he overheard your mom said to your dad something like
"She thinks we are dumb. She said she was going out to eat with a friend and she came back hungry and with her hair wet..."
>////////////<
pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4
Reader meets Gojo
First time
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amuseoffyre · 2 days ago
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Fyre's convention adventures - Day 3 - Con O'Neill's Fanmeet
My final meet of the event was Con’s, immediately after the joyful chaos of his panel with Rhys.
Forewarning, this one contains some details of animal harm that happened to his pet before he got him.
He barely had sat down when someone asked if he’d been Whammed already and the look of feigned shock and “that’s none of your business!” set the tone of the thing :D He also told us in his best encouraging voice "You can be whammed as much as you like and don't let the right wing tell you otherwise!"
And also led into a discussion about whether it was Wham! or whether it was George Michael’s solo for Last Christmas and he had to sheepishly back down after a minute and admit, no, it was Wham, definitely Wham.
And of course, I had to bring up accent stuff and asked how it felt to actually be able to use his own accent, given how rarely northern English accents show up in media made elsewhere. He said it was a delight to be able to bring a bit of Wigan to the production.
He also talked about his drama teacher when he was a kid (who he did not name because she doesn’t deserve that respect) who – when he was sixteen – told him he would never be a successful actor because he had a weird voice. There was apparently a recent review for The Penguin series that someone said he had the coolest voice and he thought that was a lovely fuck you to that malignant boot.
He made a beautiful point that if you’re a teacher, especially a teacher in a creative field, you have a duty to be encouraging. Not talking BS about how everyone will be famous, he said, but realistic, supporting and encouraging the kids, because “we know it’s hard. We don’t need to be told it’s hard. We know, but when it’s good, it’s fucking amazing”. He also mentioned that it’s come so far from the days of RP everywhere.
I said it was definitely how I felt about seeing Buttons as well – having a working class Edinburgh accent, something that so many people have never heard. He was so happy to talk about how fantastic Ewen Bremner is as an actor (“even if I can’t understand anything he’s saying”) and that he saw him in the original run of the Trainspotting stage production in the 90s when Ewen played Renton, several years before the film happened.
It was surreal, he said, to have seen this incredible actor on stage and thirty years later, to be sharing the screen with him as Buttons (“and still not understanding a word he was saying!”) and that Ewen is genuinely one of the best actors he knows and that he’s also the best kind of people.
Someone asked about how they did the seagull stuff with Buttons and he told us about Jonathan, the gull on a string, but in the shots when they didn’t have the camera on Buttons, Ewen wore a stuffed seagull on his head to maintain the right eyelines. He had to admit it was quite challenging to keep his face straight when filming because when Ewen spoke, the plushie gull was jiggling on his head XD
And then, of course, he broke our hearts by telling us about how he and his husband adopted Cooper, their wee doggo.
Their previous dog had passed and they’d been adamant they weren’t going to adopt again because it fully broke their hearts when he died, but someone sent Con a picture of a dog in a shelter in Hungary, saying “does this remind you of anyone?” and it was the spitting image of their previous dog. They got a bit emotional about it and after a few days of trying to hold off, they called the shelter.
Cooper had already been adopted – in London – but it wasn’t working out, so they got in touch with the current owners and planned to go down and meet them. The first time Cooper saw them, he started barking excitedly and things only escalated :D
They took Cooper off for a walk to see how they got on, then got so distracted comparing selfies, that Cooper trotted off and they were so panicked about losing him that they rushed back to tell the current owners, only Cooper was there, patiently waiting on the step and ecstatically started barking when he saw them coming again.
So they go in and Con said he took one of the ladies aside to find out why the adoption hadn’t worked, because they needed to know why in case it was major behavioural things that needed work. She said that the dog was incapable of love or connecting with people. And Con, looking beyond her shoulder, could see his husband on the floor, dog on his chest, wagging his tail so enthusiastically his whole body was wagging, licking Con’s husband all over his face. Con be like MMHM. Sounds like a skills issue ;)
So they took him home but got a bit concerned when he had a tendency to bite and latch on if people touched his ears or ribs. Turned out Cooper had been horribly abused in Hungary: tattoos on his ear, broken ribs, cigarette burns and surgery without anaesthetic. They were worried it could be a problem because they have young grandkids.
Still, they decided do the trial adoption and see how he got on – usually, he said, the trial is for a week or two, then the dog returns to the original adopters and then the paperwork is done. They never saw the original adopters again.
And while they were still concerned about the biting, Con had to go away for work for a few weeks, so they got a dog-sitter in to look after Cooper. When Con returned, he said Cooper crawled along the floor of the hall on his belly to Con, head and ears down, then crawled all the way up under his shirt, curling up against his chest, trembling and whimpering. The dogsitter – who is some kind of pet psychologist as well – said it was because he’s been abandoned and dumped so many times, he didn’t know they were coming back.
Con: right that second, I decided fuck the grandkids, we’re keeping him.
And now, Cooper is so happy and safe and loved and safe :)
There was one other question but I can’t recall what it was now. It was such a lovely chat and he is genuinely such a lovely, warm, funny guy.
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cloudsbrainpopped · 3 days ago
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💖🖤 for captain laserhawk
Okay okay so! These are always subject to change somewhat and. I have a dangerously high fever because SOMEONE. BROUGHT SOMETHING HOME. so I can barely think but. Yippie.
🖤 - which character isn’t as morally good as people think?
Well. I’ll just start by saying that 75% of these characters are pretty rough people with skewed morals so I’m sure it comes as no surprise to say Ramon. Yes, that final scene was cool as fuck, yes he was enjoyable even at his lowest. But that doesn’t change the shit he was peddling for at least 45 years for Eden. We saw the impact that his voice has had on the world around him. If it weren’t for him Sarah wouldn’t have turned out so messed up (and then get screwed over again because. She was also a victim of the system, who knows what Eden has done to her brain and what’s her and what’s not.) Ramon. Accidentally Created A Dictator. And god knows how many other impressionable children were impacted by him, whether they managed to break free or be another worst case scenario characters. Killing the board of directors doesn’t undo the cycle of near cultish patriotism that he’s facilitated over the years. Like Dolph, I’ll have to see him do more good post a change of heart to believe he’s actually a good Guy morally if that makes sense. ((We better see more of Dolph’s change of heart when we have more canon content but I digress this isn’t about him.
💖 Biggest Unpopular Opinion about the series?
I am genuinely not sure. I think most of my ‘hot takes’ are about things that aren’t even canon. Also these are a lot of mild takes. I think the main one is how I like how CLH stands on its own two feet given the downright blasphemous ways the original sources were treated at times. I’m pissed about. A few… select decisions myself I am not saying those decisions were good but at least they didn’t go on a ‘we’re really accurate’ tirade the way some adaptations do? It’s like an officially sanctioned crossover AU in my eyes (which has inspired a few things on my part.) I’m not sure really. I mean I’m pissed at Ubisoft, we all are. nfts are not the way to go and I fear they’re allergic to money, I like the things that most of yall like. Wait actually. I do have something else.
Okay so. The live action segment and everything surrounding it is genuinely the best part of the show. I discussed that scene for an Animation Essay. It is utilised so well. People who complain about it have not played any older games that hinge on realism/semi realism styles. Take the budget up with Ubisoft not that scene. Also in my research a lot of the people who hated the show skipped it??? So it’s either that disconnect or they really do not like Sarah at all and tbh I’m kind of annoyed about that. I’m certain the active fandom agrees that it’s absolutely unskipable. I’m not going to say anyone who skipped it and blames the art style hates women. Or women who just so happen to like women and just women but. Okay I am saying that but it’s mostly a joke. A little eyebrow raising if you will.
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frankentyner · 2 years ago
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How did Yul Brynner never play Mr. Freeze?
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gotticalavera · 9 months ago
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So far, I've only been given TWO reasons to watch ATLA's Live-Action series:
The diary scene with Zuko and Aang and see another adaptation of the episode "Blue Spirit" (basically see the adaptation of the interactions between Aang and Zuko)
In the dubbing cast for LATAM are Emilio Treviño and Óscar Flores (I love the work of these dubbing actors)
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deviousdiesel · 4 months ago
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#so that dotd rewrite is out and i have some thoughts on it but i wouldn't know where to put them.. maybe in here bc i don't actually feel -#- like making a whole ass text post. this is coming from me as criticism and not hate.. just some crit from one fan to another if you get m#SPOILERS AHEAD >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>#first off props to the team because this was obv a labor of love - 4 and a half years to make a feature long fan movie is hard work#and the animated stuff was a really nice touch and very commendable - you don't see them too often in big fanworks#in terms of the story well.. there are some things i like and some things that i don't (personally) again no hate#i'm aware this is a rewrite and boy howdy it IS a rewrite - though i am a bit sad that percy doesn't end up being the protagonist and it's#- thomas that has to play hero again.. like i kinda get it but what made the original dotd stand out was that percy was given the spotlight#so i spent an ungodly amount of time wondering when percy was gonna take charge or step into the main story to resolve the problem.. sigh#i liked that they tried to give norman more of a character bc a lot of characters do often get neglected in the series but it was kind of -#- hard to sell that for me? the twist in this rewrite was very creative and i do appreciate it but i guess it just ain't for me#“different” is ok and this is just one of many fan rewrites for this particular story#if there was something i enjoyed.. i guess the beginning was still kind of exciting because the set up was honestly like hype a bit#i liked that diesel and d10 actually got to interact face to face and there are clearer dynamics established for the diesels#and also. silverband's performances as d10 will always be fun he does a fantastic job voicing him (how d10 stole xmas will still be my fav)#my criticisms for this movie also derive from the pacing and the voice acting - i found it hard to try and understand tones sometimes -#- because the delivery felt so off.. like don't get me wrong not everyone in the fandom is a voice actor but if we're using static faces -#- for these fan works the delivery has to be a little more clear or else it'll sound like you're reading from a script.. sorry yall :"|#for the pacing i found it a bit hard to parse when some things were going on and how fast things were progressing#as well as the crashes.. that's also another thing bc i couldn't tell bc of the sfx and audio balancing - it could be better..#i wanna say. muffled voices do not substitute for a “far away”/off-screen voice bc i still can't hear it :“|#there were a lot of throwbacks and references to older thomas media/movies but some of them felt a little.. much?#if this is a dotd rewrite why are we getting some parallels with tatmr.. but i digress. at least they made diesel beef with duck a bit#there's a lot more i could say but i'm keeping those to myself. at the end of the day this fan movie was hard work for everyone involved#and you can tell some of the folks were having fun in there - props to them! i'm always glad to see more fan works in the community#we've come so far we're making feature length fan stories and rewrites that's crazy! i hope to see more in the future#fauxtrainpost.txt
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tariah23 · 8 months ago
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Well, I’m still glad that Gojo was always a character who was growing and learning at least. He’s literally one of my favorite characters of all time now. Like, he’s never been as perfect as how the fans would make him out to be despite canonically being viewed as an absolute nuisance to everyone around him (I don’t think his peers necessarily hate him but a lot of them probably hate to see him coming and the ones who’ve dealt with him long enough to consider him a friend, tolerate him and groan whenever he opens his mouth, too 😭… out of love. He’s extremely childish so there is only sm the other adults around him can take and to an extent, his students. I think the only characters in canon who adore him and their eye’s sparkle whenever he’s around, and being a silly teacher was Yuuji and Miwa (she asked him for his autograph (he’s the most famous sorcerer in the jjk world) and when she was alone, she did a little dance in the empty hallway 🥺…) from what we’ve seen even though the others still care about him, too. They just find him rather annoying, which he most definitely is. And he does it on purpose. He plays too much.)
#I’m also not usually one to get annoyed whenever ppl shit on the things I like#like I’m an adult sorry idc 😵‍💫#but it’s always annoying seeing ppl who know nothing about the story complaining about it#even just as recently with the Gojo being racist shit 😭..#like he’s a really great character despite all of that and even though Gege’s#execution of that could’ve been better or didn’t need to happen at all#because idk what gege was doing even though I do strongly believe that he used a moment like this to showcase Gojo’s ignorance and#that how he’s also human and makes mistakes since if you’re familiar with the series Gojo isn’t really treated like person at all#more like a deity and he doesn’t like that#but he’s never been one to voice his personal feelings and talk about his trauma ever#he gets treated like a god and because of this he’s never felt like he could truly connect with other people#so that’s why he puts on that whole act of being overly friendly/ playing with others and even rude to shut others out because of his#aversion to opening his traumatized self To other ppl like he’s so cool#and when he’s friendly he gives the others just enough of his affection so that he wouldn’t be worried about and not have others pry#but he’s incredibly flawed as well#I feel like gege could’ve showed Gojo being ‘humbled’ some other kind of way over the racism tho 😭. But it’s fine lmfao#I’m still so grateful that he had Gojo actually apologize instead of waving Miguel off like he didn’t matter because like I’ve said before#he literally never apologizes (this is probably the first time that I’ve ever seen gojo apologize to anyone in canon I’m so serious 🗿)#that’s literally not part of him#like he feels regret but he never apologies or shows that he actually cares about what others are expressing to him when they’re upset with#him. like this is crazy. but it shows that he did care about the mistake that he made which I appreciate…. like idk how I would’ve felt#about his character if he showed that he could care less when hurting someone like this🗿…..#I adore him so much sorry sorry for taking about anime I’m just 😭…. ❤️❤️❤️#rambling#I’m glad that everyone is fucking with Miguel now because he is a really interesting character even though we haven’t seen much of him#he’s one of the few ppl who Gojo trusted enough to look after someone who he cared about despite the horrors#because he knew that Miguel would protect yuuta and do right by him#it’s very 😭❤️…
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perenlop · 2 years ago
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i know i vouched for this but oh my god please let journeys be ending
#ik ash is still going apparently but if this format goes on to paldea and a ton of good paldea mons get shafted#and they give the way home some random half hour special with no build up then im gonna be SO disappointed#everett said this also but yeah it seems like theyve just given up on goh catching em all so like thats kinda whatever#also i do not need them to make ANOTHER cover of 1 2 3 like its a good song but i am so sick of it#also if we are getting a new series can we make the endings actually good again#idk i like goh as a character but its clear that they dont really know what to do with him right now#like project mew just... got him to meet mew again which was cool yes. but hes literally implied to be quitting after one mission#so like what was the point#idk. jn is in shambles rn. while i think i like it more than others in the community#yeah i would be disappointed if it went on to paldea at this point. keep goh if u want bc i like him#but like im sick of it and unlike swsh paldea is crammed with potential and existing story thatd work so good in anime form#watch the professors not exist and for sprigatito to not have a main role until episode60 where it proceeds to do nothing#watch team star get ignored outside of one episode where they dont actually have much to do#all the while we are showing so many ''omg so beautiful landscaping shots of the same 6 kanto pokemon''#echoed voice#i may not have liked galar all that much but yeah it got treated like shit by the anime#which is kinda wild bc leon was so hyped up but it was literally only him and the wild areas that got shown off#most other locations like ballonlea were restricted to the stadiums and not explored or just looked like dogshit for some reason#if u look up several galar pokemon on bulbapedia then youll see that many pokemon either havent shown up at all#or have some low res background shot on there bc its the only time they ever showed up#like man. paldea doesnt deserve that at all. just give it its own anime im begging you
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skyburger · 7 months ago
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Do not hit me up bro this azran legacy shit gets serious
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evilgwrl · 3 months ago
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ExHusband!Simon x Reader
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You Want a Divorce? (Two)
Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!
CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry
Part One
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It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.
You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.
Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”
Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.
Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.
Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.
Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.
“Should we talk about this morning?”
You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”
He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”
The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”
You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.
His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.
“Just drop us home.”
Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.
The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”
“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“
“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”
You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.
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“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.
“Thank you.”
You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.
“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”
It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.
But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.
Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.
Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.
It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.
Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.
“Let me come home, please.”
Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.
Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.
Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.
Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.
With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.
He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.
Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.
“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.
Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.
“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.
“Simon - I need more, been so long.”
He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.
“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.
He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.
Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.
You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.
“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“
“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.
You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.
“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.
It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.
You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.
“Si - no more -“
“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”
His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.
You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.
You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.
“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.
“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”
You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”
His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.
His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.
Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.
“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”
Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.
The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.
“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”
You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.
“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.
“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”
You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.
The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.
“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.
“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“
His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”
His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.
“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”
He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.
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TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru
Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((
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peachzin · 1 year ago
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grrr
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blkkizzat · 12 days ago
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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟺........... THE SORCERER SALARYMAN ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series
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visitor log: your sweet boyfriend, nanami kento, promised he'd come visit you tonight bunny. awe baby, don't cry, you're sure that's actually him at the door but you'll run through your checklist just to make sure, won't you?
classifications: huge crybaby!reader, bunny nickname in lieu of y/n, praise kink, an actual plot and backstory lol, dumbification, heavy dacryphillia, pet play, tights kink, raw dog, riding, breeding, manipulation, heavy cuteness aggression, slightly yandere nanami (maybe not so slight lol), angst but comfort, feelings of isolation, fluffy sweet moments of genuine romance, post-shibuya nanami (he survived with burns), burn trauma, jjk society sucks and a gojo cameo lol.
incidents: 6.1k
special shoutout to @yung-notorious who i bounced ideas off of and who had super sweet things to say about this story in general and is the reason i went so deep with this. 🥹
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*knock-knock*
A firm yet familiar knock jolts you awake. 
The clock reads a little past 3 am, its faint ticking the only sound filling the dimly lit stillness of your condo’s living room.
You had tried—and failed—to stay awake for Nanami. Determined to wait for him, you curled up on your cloud-like sofa with your Switch. But by 1 am, sleep had claimed you. Not even the promise of a solid turnip trade in Animal Crossing could keep your eyes open.
Yet Nanami rarely came over this late, always mindful of your sleep schedule—or lack thereof. He’d often remind you that you didn’t get enough rest anyway, and he wasn’t wrong.
One thing was certain though: Nanami had always kept his word when he’d promise to visit.
You missed Nanami terribly, only being able to see him via FaceTime for the past few days. So despite the unusual hour, a rush of excitement courses through you. Springing off the couch you practically run to the door.
But your enthusiasm is cut short. Your cozy, thigh-high-covered legs came to a screeching halt just short of answering the door. Mind racing, you think on you the exact reason why you hadn't seen your overworked boyfriend in so long.
Doppelgänger curses. 
What if it wasn’t your Kento at the door?
The intrusive thought grows more persistent as silent tears begin to shimmer, pooling in your long lashes.
“Bunny, you awake, my love? I’m so sorry I’m this late, doll—I’ve missed you.” Sniffling you calm a bit hearing the familiar voice.
Well, it certainly sounded like Nanami.
“Um, y-yeah, K-Ken, m’here.”
As much as you try to hold back your sniffles, the cracks in your voice are evident as you move more cautiously this time towards the door. Fiddling with the hem of the overly large white tee you are swimming in (one of Nanami’s undershirts), you perch up on your tippy toes to reach the peephole. 
Peering out into the hallway, you conclude that it certainly looks like Nanami too. 
Tall, well-put together in his usual glasses, suit and tie. Not to mention ridiculously handsome, even with the burn scars that riddled half his body—they never bothered you anyway. You just want to be in his arms and have to fight the urge right then to lower the barrier and fling the door open. 
“Now, now Bunny baby, don’t cry. I know it's very late but don’t be scared—you remember what you’re supposed to do now, right love?”
The checklist.
“Y-Yeah, I remember Ken—*hiccups*—but m’scared.”
You practically sob out the words, unable to control your anxious tears from rolling down your cheeks as you try to take steadier breaths. 
The checklist had been Nanami’s idea, a sure fire way for you not to worry and verify it was actually him at the door. Always considerate, he was so sweet to you—even though you felt unworthy of him.
You are a sorcerer in your own right and yet your fight-or-flight response is completely fucked—you simply just freeze-up and cry.
It wasn’t entirely your fault though, growing up in a well-to-do non-sorcerer family that pampered you, keeping you sheltered from most of the world. 
Not out of cruelty though, it was genuinely for your own protection. 
Surprisingly, they believed you without question when you confessed to seeing spirits. From an early age, you couldn’t set foot anywhere without encountering grotesque figures clinging to people or lurking around objects. As you grew older, you came to understand that these monsters—twisted and varied in shape and size—were everywhere. They moved freely, unnoticed by anyone else, even daring to roam the streets in broad daylight without a hint of fear.
As a result, you were homeschooled. Often lonely, you found it impossible to make friends outside of your own siblings and cousins. Whenever you did meet other kids, they dismissed you as an attention-seeker—or worse, labeled you a freak—whenever your abilities to see the supernatural were revealed.
Yet at the age of 13 is when already dire matters escalated exponentially. You discovered that when frightened your cursed energy, that you knew nothing of then, would run amuck. You couldn’t control your powers, unintentionally injuring others and nearly killing one of your beloved younger cousins when they jumped out of the pantry to give you a playful scare.
After the incident you voluntarily isolated yourself even more, terrified of the world and yourself for the 6 years that followed with no contact with anyone but your immediate family. Until out of the blue, your parents would bring an Assistant Manager representative from one of the many Jujutsu schools. They gave you more insight into the curses you were seeing and promised you’d even learn to master them if you'd work for them.
You hated to leave your family but you were aware of the ever growing threat you are to them so long as you can’t control your powers. 
Not to mention, the promise of meeting others like you had your heart racing with excitement, you’d almost forgotten the feeling resigning yourself to your feelings of loneliness. You thought you were completely alone but there apparently was a whole other world you weren’t aware of right in front of your face this whole time!
Unfortunately, like the many others who enter the Jujutsu world from outside families, you received a rude awakening—one that you’d learn was far more isolating than being locked away in your home as your hopes of being understood were quickly disillusioned. 
Well, they understood you fine, they just don’t care.
Especially as it is made apparent quickly you were classified at the highest level.
Special grade. 
Yet despite your ranking you find zero camaraderie and very little empathy as the majority of sorcerers you encountered came from generationally gifted families who regarded someone like you with either envy, annoyance or scorn as the competition. Compounded with the fact you were a certified scaredy cat despite having a power very few could compete with made you into the running joke of Jujutsu society.
Your fear crippled your ability to fully utilize your powers which was seen as weakness.
This earned you the title of ‘The Bunny Sorcerer’ or just “Bunny” for short. 
It was cruel but fitting since you did startle easily, just like a little bunny rabbit. Even the presence of a weak curse, one you could crush under your shoe, sent your heart racing and your wide eyes darting around in panic.
You hated it more than anything, but you didn’t run.
Where could you even go?
You refused to put your family at risk again. They had protected you for so long, even when it meant endangering themselves. Even if this new world rejected you, at least your presence here wouldn’t jeopardize them like before.
So, you gritted your teeth and endured, swallowing the bitterness of being reduced to nothing more than a tool—a "breeding mare" to be kept alive for future use.
All for your family.
With a deep breath, you pushed the painful memories aside, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to refocus on the present.
Things are different now though with Nanami in your corner believing in you.
“I-I remember the checklist Ken, b-but how will I know it’s really you?”
There’s a tense pause before Nanami speaks again, the fatigue edged in his tone given the late hour rationalizes the delay in your mind. 
“Everything will be okay Bun, you’ll know, I promise. Just use the checklist like we practiced, doll. I believe in you.”
Clutching onto Nanami’s shirt, you nod your head despite him being unable to see it through the door. 
*sniff* ”...m’kay.”
You can do this! 
Nanami believed in you.
Like he always did.
From the very start of him becoming your mentor by the end of your second year in Jujutsu society.
You arrived to him as quite the pitiful little thing. Dejected and broken, you shrank yourself into being as obedient as possible. No one wanted to deal with the headache of looking after you—the three mentors in two different office locations before finally being transferred to Tokyo was proof of that.
Unceremoniously handed over to Nanami, you were to be his problem. He was to look after you until you learned to control your powers enough to be married off.
Nanami had been semi-retired since recovering from an unfortunate incident with a curse that had caused the entire left side of his body to be burned, he was lucky to keep his eye. His first real assignment back and he had to be burdened with you. Yet despite your many short-comings as a sorcerer, you were never a joke to Nanami. Nanami did not seem to mind that you had a soul far too sensitive and gentle for any real battle. 
Ironically enough, you actually begin to love the nickname 'Bunny' when he calls you it. The name was always accompanied by a small endearing smile that soothed your spooked nerves, as he reassures you that he too ’finds the world a little too harsh and unpredictable at times.’
Nanami would always tell you—‘Being afraid isn't a weakness—it’s proof that you care, that you are alive and want to continue to live—that’s what we are fighting for. You just do it in your own way Bunny, don’t worry about the rest.’ 
With the patience that would rival a saint, Nanami never ridiculed nor expressed disappointment in your failures, they weren’t failures he would tell you—only roadblocks for you to overcome. He’d overcome his injuries, like you could overcome your fears.
And you had. 
Clinging to him like a lifeline, you felt you owe the semi-normal life you live now to his support and unwavering belief in you. Over the past three years with him, you have conquered so many of your fears.
Nevertheless, it still wasn’t enough to keep this doppelgänger fiasco from regressing you back to the state you were in before meeting Nanami. Technically someone of your strength should have been out there fighting and exercising curses too.
Even though most doppels were low-level curses, their energy patterns mimicked their human counterparts, and their sheer numbers were overwhelming. The fear of making a mistake and accidentally killing a real human left you paralyzed. 
The higher ups quickly decided you’d be better off waiting in quarantine, like a civilian. 
For the first time in a long time you feel like a nuisance. You knew that Nanami would have to take on your burdens as he always did, now working harder than ever. 
You missed Nanami terribly over the last few days so you just want this to be your sweet boyfriend so badly, but this is the first time you've had to do this. 
Even with all the times you and Nanami practiced, preparing for this very moment, you still don’t know if you can go through with it.
Sniffling back tears, you steady yourself. 
The first thing on the list was to check his appearance. 
Starting from the top, there wasn’t even a hair out of place. Nanami looks dashing with his slicked back 7:3 salaryman style with slightly tapered sides, the density somewhat thinner on his injured left side. You bite your lip, as your gaze slides lower, his goggle glasses were the right shade and color. As well, with the exception of his scarring, his face nor body had no abnormal markings or features, just his familiar strong jawline set into a firm neutral expression. 
Nanami’s clothing passed inspection too. Not a wrinkle in sight. He wears his speckled yellow print tie and nicely pressed suit, with a single brown leather glove on his left hand to protect his marred thinned skin during battles, same as always. Nanami, although often worn by the end of the day, always kept a neat, well put-together appearance.
“Well, my love?”
The small smile that edges his lips makes you bounce on your toes and you can’t wait to let him in and jump into his arms but you know you still have one more set of checks to be done.
“You passed, Ken.. but mmm, we’re not done yet! N-Next are the questions!”
You hear Nanami lightly chuckle at the door clearly finding your nervous determination to correctly identify him endearing. 
And just as you were hoping for, Nanami passes the questions with flying colors too. 
“Alright doll, are you satisfied that it’s me? May I come in now?”
Chewing on the nail of your thumb you don’t know why you are still wavering.
He’d answered all the questions right and his appearance was flawless from what you could tell. 
However something just didn’t feel right and a renewed panic shoots down your spine. 
“Um, IDK… Ken, I-I want it to be you and I think it's you…b-but…”
Looking away, you pressed your forehead against the door unsure of what to do next. 
“Don’t think too hard now about it Bunny, you’ll start second guessing yourself again.”
Nanami answered all the questions correctly, just as the real Nanami would.
So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of something being off? 
You whimper as you just want to hold him and look up into his soft brown—and it dawned on you.
His eyes!
“T-Take off your glasses, Ken.”
A heavy silence follows, longer and far more tense than the one before.
“S-Show me your eyes Kento…please? T-Then I’ll believe it's you, then I’ll let you in. I promise!”
You're desperate to see his warm hazel eyes, even if they were strained with an exerted tinge of red—it was the final thing you needed to calm your worried heart and know for sure. 
You’d spent so much time gazing up into them, there's no way even the most perfect clone could duplicate them for you.
“Now, my Bunny…” 
Nanami’s tone shifted, turning cold and devoid of the usual warmth—a chilling, almost menacing edge that wrecked shivers down your spine, as if the person speaking wasn’t him at all.
“...why would you ask that of me? Open the door for me lil’ Bunny. I’m beginning to lose my patience with you.”
Nanami? Losing his patience…?
Your brows furrowed as the ominous tension hits you like a pound of bricks, the cracks in the doppelgänger's facade rapidly crumbling away.
Swallowing a hard lump, you have to confirm it with your own eyes.
“S-Show me!”
Nanami just chuckles, removing his glasses to reveal himself as a doppelgänger with two pitch-black holes oozing thick, dark fluid where his gentle brown eyes should be. The doppel hears your sobs through the door, and you stumble back, falling on your ass as the door frame trembles from the curse rattling against the barrier.
The curse was strong, stronger than normal reportings and before you knew it the door flew open, almost completely off the hinges. However it wasn’t enough to break your barrier and have them enter.
“Heh, didn’t think you would suspect me at all—dealing with someone as weak-minded as you.” 
Fear wrecks through your body as the words coming from the clone sound more distorted and monstrous than ever.
“Now when I do get in there, you’re really going to regret it—you pathetic sniveling skinbag. I think I’ll peel it off you slowly, skin you just like a little rabbit, Bunny. Would you like to be my meal?”
Tears spill freely now, your bleary eyes blinking against the steady flow. Yet, for the first time, the emotion rising in your chest isn’t just fear—it’s anger. Raw and undeniable.
This disgusting curse really had the audacity to mimic your precious Nanami!
Resolute, your legs shake like a newborn fawn yet you still manage to draw yourself to your feet. Your eyes are closed, screwed shut as you attempt to drown out its taunts and provocations. But you can still sense it before you, which was good because you didn’t want to have to look at the grotesque form of the person who meant the most to you any longer than you had to.
“Awe, did I upset the wittle Bunny?” 
The doppelgänger's voice returned to a pitch similar to Nanami's, making a mockery of the both of you further before his voice turned more twisted than ever. 
“Because I guarantee the huge disappointment you are is even more upsetting to the real Nanami.”
“No, that’s not true! The real Nanami would never say that!”
Sparks dance at your fingertips as you concentrate, pouring your energy into the barrier. You have the strength, but his cutting insults and the relentless pounding against the shield gnaw at your focus. Doubt creeps in, and your energy falters, flickering as you fight to hold onto your resolve.
Come on girl, get it together now!
Just as Nanami taught you, you steady your mind with slow, deliberate breaths, shutting out the doppelgänger’s cruel taunts. The deep, calming flow of air through the back of your throat soothes your heart, which had been pounding like a drum, and sends a surge of energy coursing through your veins. With each exhale, your power gathers—stronger, sharper, and more focused than before.
Yet, as your eyes finally open and you ready yourself to unleash your ability, the doppelgänger is suddenly silenced. Going mute before a choked gurgle escapes its lips before its head splits into pieces—cut down by Nanami’s precise ratio technique.
The new Nanami that appears before you immediately removes his glasses, and when you meet his soft hazel eyes, they’re exactly as you remembered: gentle, tender, and reassuring.
There’s no doubt about!
He’s the real deal—he’s your Nanami!
Instantly dropping the barrier, Nanami catches you as you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Evening Bunny, my heart.” 
Hearing the words coming from him, the actual Nanami, has you falling apart in his arms ugly crying into his chest with happiness and relief. 
But your tears could never be ugly to the real Nanami, who holds you tighter as he coos how proud he is of you and how he’s so sorry for being late and leaving you all alone for so long. 
ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩
The fact stands, Nanami finds immense beauty in your tears. 
And although he has never failed to pronounce your beauty no matter how much of a distressed state you were in, the direct affection for your cries isn’t something he’d ever elaborate on.
Nanami is terrified of what he might say. 
The underlying truth being that you awoke a ferociously strong lust in the form of cuteness aggression whenever Nanami saw even the tiniest bit of wetness dew on your lids.
“HAA! D-Daddy, D-Daddy puhlease! I-I cannnnnnn’t!”
However, the flowing tears that Nanami could pull from your sweet puffy eyes while you so dutifully bounce on his cock are definitely his favorite. 
Once in his arms you had pulled him down to the floor, ripping off all his clothes as the rush of varying emotions had gone straight to your pussy. And of course, you being the perfect peach you were for him, volunteered to ride him—without a condom—for the first time.
You claimed you wanted to feel all of the him inside you, no more barriers between the two of you. 
Nanami certainly is more than happy to oblige you as always. 
Mounting him, your manicured nails find purchase on his solid abdominals for leverage, assisting your feet planted on the ground as you bounced—much like an actual bunny—on his cock, feeling the pulse of every vein dragging along your walls. 
This was another reason loved to call you Bunny as you certainly wanted to fuck like one.
“Hm? Wasn’t it you? My slutty doll, who begged to ride me though, pet?”  
Your pretty mewls of protest only make him harder as your gooey cunt quivers when he refers to you as his ‘pet’.
A soft girl to the core despite the strength you possess, you loved the way Nanami claimed you by calling you his pet. There was a comforting simplicity in it—no expectations, no pressure to be anything but yourself. 
Just the quiet assurance that he would care for you, exactly as you are.
This was evident by all the affection he would shower you with daily as well as the pretty pink leather collar with a hollow rose gold heart that said “Bunny” in matching rose gold cursive. You'd been wearing it this entire time, wanting to greet him at the door with it on.
“You can Bunny. How many times must I tell you, my love? This is what you were waiting for, yes? Having the nerve to play with my pussy before I came home—you weren't even wearing panties under my shirt, pet.”
By now Nanami's shirt has been long discarded from your body. You are completely bare save for the thick leg warmers digging into your plush thighs and your collar twinkling in the dim living room lighting. 
You knew exactly what you were doing too, fully aware of how much he loved seeing you in his oversized undershirt. The material, drenched in the musk from a hard day's work, hung loosely over you, draping your curves perfectly to tease and captivate.
You were deadly to him.
In combination with the tights you wear revealing just a fleeting silver of skin with each subtle step ignited a feral dominating urge Nanami otherwise tried to keep in check. A guaranteed way for your pussy to end up stuffed and your ass spanked as he folded you over the nearest piece of furniture.
It goes without saying you wouldn’t greet him after so long wearing anything else—you even naughtily played with your pussy earlier so you'd could have him inside of you as we walked through the door.
Likewise, you know the dedicated efforts you exert now that has sweat glistening off your jiggling tits, core muscles clenching for stability and leaves you panting, pleases him to watch as well.
Nanami grins lovingly at your labors, he is convince you have to be a masochist at heart. As big of a scaredy cat as you are, you rarely ever run from his cock.
Even now when the force needed to bully his thickness into your slick pussy over and over had your tongue lolling out and your eyes lodged deep into the back of your skull murmuring gibberish.
You’d easily fuck yourself dumb for him.
You still persist, even when it feels like his immense girth might split you into two from the intensity of your pleasure. Being with Nanami is the first time since entering the Jujutsu world where you didn’t feel alone, where someone didn’t mock or ridicule you or expect you to be a tool for their benefit. 
So you’d push through for him, through anything. 
Even though your stomach flutters with butterflies full of uneasy anticipation every time you’d plead with your burning thighs to lift you once more—knowing soon the laws of gravity would prevail and you'll have the very wind knocked out of you when your cervix slams down hard onto his portly tip.
“Always such a sweet slutty girl for me, my love…” 
One of his hands strokes your calf encouragingly while the other runs along the bend in your knee, briefly toying with the hem of fabric at your thighs, before resting on your belly. Nanami is too enthralled by the way your stomach bulges and deflates again, his cock scraping along your gummy walls making a complete mess of you.
“....Can you feel me here too, pet?”
When Nanami hands dip into the soft rolls of your tummy just below your navel it’s intentional and directly over your g spot. Your nails dig into his abdominals as you sew your eyes shut. You're oh so close to cumming and you want to milk Nanami’s cock, twitching against your womb, for all its worth.
“K—HNN!”
“What was that? Speak up my love, or I won’t be able to hear you over your pretty crybaby pussy, you aren’t going to let her be louder than you, hm?”
Nanami gifts your ass with a firm open palmed smack.
“HAAA—MMMMN—Not f-fair K-Knghh!”  
The creamy squelching of your pussy threatens to cry even louder as you continuously impale yourself on his cock. You pout crying through barely intelligible complaints but your lustful hips never stop, no matter how much they ache from spreading wide across his broad pelvis.
You could barely think, let alone form words so if your pussy wanted to speak up for you in this case, you’d let her. You were too busy trying to remember to breathe, spittle depositing on the sides of your lips from the way you swore you had somehow pushed Nanami’s long dick all the up up into your ribcage. 
His big strong hand cups your cheek, thumb gently swiping through your tears and sweat as Nanami encourages you to keep going for him. The act seems so lovingly selfless but truly it’s to push the strands of hair away from covering your face so Nanami could see your wild tears unhindered. 
Nanami understands quite well how twisted it is of him to get off on your tears to the extent he does. That said, it’s those moments of softness, when you are at your most fragile and desperate, are the ones he cherished above all others.
Those were the moments you only look to him.
You not only made Nanami feel wanted—you made him feel needed. 
Truthfully, even now he felt as if he was undeserving of all your perfection. It was clear, you were a diamond in the rough. Beautiful, strong, and a rather sweet and friendly disposition once you felt comfortable enough in your surroundings to open up. Not to mention you had youth on your side, just barely reaching your mid-twenties while Nanami was well into his thirties. 
Aging and horrifically disfigured on his left side, he had long resigned himself to solitude even before his disfigurement. Nanami being the consummate workaholic salaryman of Jujutsu society, he already had no life beyond his job responsibilities.
Pathetically, even in his rare moments of daydreaming—imagining the soft beaches of Malaysia he had more than enough vacation days accrued to visit—he walked those sandy shores alone in his mind.
Nanami, if anything, was a realist. He knew he might as well be a curse among regular civilians given his appearance now. He pretends even now not to notice the double take stares or whispers, the looks from sympathy to pure horror.  
So it's no surprise Nanami never dared to consider anything other than his reality.
Until you came along and changed that.
“MNNNN K-KEN—M’GONNACUMM’GONNACUM!”
Your words slur as your ass slams down in his lap with more fervor. The increase in friction of your clit against his pubic bone causes your squirt along with the milky fluids at the base of his shaft to gush everywhere. Your arousals soil his torso and causes your soggy tights to slouch around your thighs.
Your hands lose traction in the mess you made on Nanami's taut stomach, the muscles flexing and quivering from your frantic slippery gropes at his flesh. Nanami's balls grow more sore with every impact of your flesh rippling together. His sack is so eager to release the viscous surge of syrupy white fluids he’d built up in his absence.  
Completely on autopilot, his words barely register. It isn’t until Nanami’s voice cracks, repeating himself twice more, that his words finally break through the haze of ecstasy clouding your mind.
“HAAA—Can’t stawppp—FFFFUH—jus’ put it in m’tummy d-daddy!”
As if on the command of your words and spasming cunt reaching its spine-tingling nirvana, he does just that. Grunting loudly and throwing his head back, Nanami almost chokes on his own spit from how tight a hold your filthy pussy has on him when the geyser in his loins suddenly bursts, sloshing inside you.
A keen cry slips from your lips at the feeling of his hot cum swirling in your womb, marking you. Nanami fills your pussy to absolute capacity until dribbles of cum trickle out of your hole. As your adrenaline breaks its crest you can now feel the arches of your feet screaming at you as your legs can no longer support yourself. Exhausted you fall forward onto his bare sweat-slicked chest, your mission finally complete. 
Nanami too for a moment feels sated. However as soon as you caught your breath you just had to peer up from his chest to bashfully give him a small innocent smile like you weren’t just brazenly riding his dick like a starved cockhungry whore.
“Missed you, Ken.”
You whimpered softly, pressing a tender kiss to the scarred skin over his heart before resting your cheek there. Your heart-eyed gaze locks with his, unwavering and full of loving devotion.
Fuck.  
Something snaps and a tyrannical urge tingles on the tip of Nanami's every nerve, ignited by sweet adorable nature.
Pulling you into a kiss you Nanami as he wholly devours you, not allowing you rest. The taste of your slobbering moans into his mouth are simply addicting and he could spend hours teasing and suckling on your cute little tongue if you’d allow him.
Rolling you under him and onto your back in a mating press, you mewl at the electricity shooting through your cunt upon his length swelling again. This position makes it easy for his cock to restretch your sloppy spongy core he thrusts slow and deep into you. 
Your hands instantly push against his hips, squirming while trying to prevent him from disturbing your still spasming womb. 
Yet Nanami was having none of it. Restraining both your hands in one of his own overhead.
“I know my pretty pussy isn’t acting all scared of cock now? Not after the way she greedily drained me and gobbled up my seed.”
Now was Nanami’s turn to savor every part of you.
There’s fresh sobs that spill down your puffy face again when his cockhead roughly prods into your cervix. 
“T-That’s it, let em all out—HAAA—Show Daddy how much that crybaby pussy loves getting slutted out, pet,” 
Nanami's words amplify the quivering of your cunt with each new thrust spurring his hips to slam back into yours. The slick moisture on his balls causes a harsh sting every time they slap against your ass and encourages him to go faster, increasing your tears and pleasure.
Getting off on you being his tight wet little fleshlight, Nanami considers if he's still too twisted to be with you.
Had the burns from the incineration of half his body seared him so severely it sullied his very soul into the sadistic form it is now?
The truth lies in the withheld secret that Nanami had, in fact, stalked his own doppelgänger, following it all the way to your high-rise condo. He could have stopped the creature long before it ever reached your door. However his own darkness—slimy and sadistic—held him back.
A part of him feels ashamed, guilty for standing by and allowing your tears when he could have prevented them. But he did truly believe in you. Nanami was knew you were far stronger than you gave yourself credit for, and, in his own flawed way, he wanted to show you that strength.
You could have easily blasted his doppelganger curse to hell, yet Nanami wasn’t such a beast he'd traumatize you by making you harm something that looked so much like him.
No, he only truly enjoyed your tears when you were under him like this, so drunk off his cock you’d forget about any other fear.
"K-K-FUH—NNN!"
Your hands are still above your head as Nanami continues to pound you like a madman. Your mouth gapes open to wordless cries that beg him to let you cum. The lewd gurgles and slurps from your pussy wringing out his cock echo in your ears—she's sobbing enough for the both of you and it’s mozart to Nanami’s ears.
Honestly, Nanami never wanted to be apart from you that long ever again. 
It’s In that moment, deep in your guts as your ecstasy renders you dumb, chest arching up like a beacon. Nanami realizes that your presence is as essential to his existence as the sun itself.
You are his sun.
Your warmth is more comforting, tempering his traumas and offering a soothing peace he never imagined was possible. The tranquility he envisions, basking in under golden rays, only matter if you’re beside him sharing in that serenity.
Now when Nanami pictures himself walking carefree along sandy shores in his mind's eye, you’re there with him, hand in hand.
The thought of you being married off to some ancient sorcerer clan, destined for mistreatment, fills him with a quiet rage. He’d die before allowing that to happen.
No—he would make you his. Forever. 
Because now, the idea of a life without you feels unbearable and from the desperate way you creamed on him as if his cum was sustenance for your needy succubus pussy let’s him know you feel the same way even if you can't verbalize it in the moment. 
Nanami had known how you felt ever since the day you first met Gojo. He’d managed to keep you off Gojo’s radar for 4 months, but hiding you forever was impossible. When you finally crossed paths, Gojo, ever the smarmy jester, wasted no time teasing and flirting with you relentlessly, despite your timid nature.
Yet things had taken an unexpected turn when Gojo casually suggested that a sorcerer of your grade should train with him instead. Nanami stood next to you stoically, his face in a hard line. He knew Gojo wasn’t entirely wrong—you likely would progress faster under his tutelage even though he'd likely terrorize your nerves in the process. With Gojo, you wouldn’t have to endure training sessions cut short by Nanami’s bouts of phantom pain or the constant disruptions caused by the unpredictable chills and sweats that had plagued him since losing the ability to regulate half his body temperature.
Still, neither of them could have anticipated your reaction.
The moment Gojo made the suggestion, fat tears brimmed in your eyes, spilling over in seconds. Nanami’s heart shattered into pieces as your small fist clung desperately to sleeve like a lifeline. Your plump bottom lip trembled, and when you finally spoke, your dejected voice was so soft it was barely more than a whisper.
“You're going to get rid of me too, Nanami?”
The question came out more like a statement, like you'd expected him to eventually. It's in that instant that the damn Nanami’s carefully restrained feelings broke. His heart ached with a deeper affection he could no longer deny. Gojo, for his part, immediately backed off, though he made it a point to tease Nanami mercilessly afterward.
“Your little crybaby bunny got so upset thinking I’d steal them away.”
Frankly, as long as Gojo left you alone, Nanami didn’t care what the hell he said nor anyone said or did. All that mattered was you staying by his side.
Nanami decides he's had enough as a new clarity washes over him.
Fuck these doppelgangers. 
Fuck his job. 
And most importantly?
Fuck the Jujutsu world.
Nanami knew Gojo had been dicking around for whatever reason when they should have been rid of these doppelgangers long before this point. However, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, refusing to be apart from you working himself to the bone if Gojo was also not taking this seriously.
For the first-time in his career as as sorcerer—Nanami is taking a vacation.
He's booking 2 first-class tickets to Malaysia—tomorrow.
“Bunny, we’ll have to get you a new collar, my pet. Wouldn’t want the metal to heat up too much on the beach and scar your perfect skin.”
Wha? A beach? 
"Hnnn—m'kay K-Ken..."
Agreeing to anything, you're reduced to goo from the way Nanami has been tearing through your guts like he was in a trance.
You have zero clue what Nanami is talking about.
However, that's probably for the best to be honest.
Otherwise the amount of nervous, apprehensive tears that would leak from your eyes upon learning his plans to bust your pussy wide open like a coconut over and over on a public beach of all places would surely have earned you three more rounds.
......RESULT: PASSED 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒—𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚊. 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔—𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍.
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that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)
lmk what you think~!
comment and reblog! next up a no-nut-nov multific!
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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tfshouldidohere · 1 year ago
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just drove to and arrived at my cousin's house, watch me merge with his floors
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