#and also a deeply serious look into the way i write (or do not write on purpose) sex
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
mimipolo ¡ 2 days ago
Note
I MEAN... Nam-gyu x Female guard 🧎‍♀️
THAT WOULD BE CRAZYYY
(NSFW) 🤭
Nam-gyu x femguard! reader
Sorry for being gone a family member of mine died🙁
I actually enjoyed writing this a lot so I hope you like it!
Anyone that knows how to make my posts prettier please hmu💔
The games were getting boring, the high the drugs have him initially didn't hit the same and his body constantly craved for another outlet. It was infuriating, it was like his body ached to release this frustration he couldn't make out where from.
Lately though, he's felt like he's been watched by one of the guards with the square symbol on their mask, he knew it was their job and all to keep an eye on them to shoot them down when players are eliminated but damn this one guard had been staring him down hard. He'd just spare a dirty look before but now it'd been making him paranoid.
So much so it had him tossing and turning in his bed, the mattresses are too thin and pillows too flat. It was driving him mad. Sighing with new found resolution he pushed himself off his back and made his descent down the bunk. A little splash of water would do him good. He hoped at least. Or he would actually lose his shit.
Dragging his feet lazily to bang at the door for the guards to open it. He didn't bother being polite, watching other people's experiences it was easier to let them know you're serious about going from the get go. And it worked. A circle guard begrudgingly opened the door and escorted him to the bathroom.
He'd spent quite a bit of time just staring at himself in the mirror blankly as he watched the water trickle down his face to the sink bowl below. The constant battling with the morals of himself and why he deserved to be in here in the first place were clouding his mind without the mind nulling effects of Thanos' drugs.
Swearing dismissively at his own thoughts he pushed himself off the sink and walks out of the bathroom. Except this time he's greeted by a square guard rather than the circle one from before, the fact alone had the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end as he warily followed after them at the silent gesture of their head.
He finds himself being backed up into the bathroom again, the door now closing with a resounding click that had him on edge immediately as his eyes scanned his surroundings then back on you.
"What do you want huh?"
| ₊˚⊹ᰔ
One thing lead to another and now he's backed up against the furthest wall from the door, his breaths coming out heavy as he looks down at you. It doesn't seem like you have a weapon on you but he really isn't feeling like fucking around and finding out.
And then you're pulling off your mask, pushing it off and tucking your hair to one side.
You're beautiful.
It takes him a second to collect himself as: first off he didn't expect you to be a woman, and second why do you have the prettiest eyes he's ever seen? Now he's enjoying this tension, you're staring him down still and you look oddly familiar. But he doesn't give a shit right now, he's been feeling so pent up this whole time and you're presenting a perfect opportunity to let go a little.
Before you can open your mouth to speak he's smashing his lips against yours amateurly, slim hands working their way down your back until one reaches your ass and squeezes hopelessly. His sudden neediness catches you by surprise but it's not unwelcome as you also let your hands roam up to his hair and down his chest causing him to sigh deeply against your lips.
He pulls away for a split moment, lips connected by spit and he's grasping clumsily at the zip of your uniform, pressing his already growing hard on against your thigh.
"Is that why you've been watching me so closely, huh?" he says between breaths.
"You want me right?"
"This is only for my benefit... don't get it twisted." you murmur between his rushed kisses, your hands finding themselves on the same sink he leaned on before.
"Yeah you keep believin' that, it's gonna change soon..."
He can't believe how fast his heart is beating just from seeing you shirtless in front of him. Had it really been that long?Who cares. There's a woman in front of him panting in his ear and he wasn't about to pass up this beautiful blessing.
Surprisingly he's more considerate of the maintenance of your uniform as he pulls the tracksuit down to your hips and let's it pool at your ankles. He can't help but bite deep marks into your collar when you cautiously push your hair out of the way causing you to gasp slightly.
He's pushing his hips hard against yours, each rock of his body sending shivers down both your spines as he grasps you harder. One hand is fondling your tits, tracing the outline of your bra with such focus it almost irked you.
"Think we're both worked up enough, just lemme fuck you, please..."
His words are whispered in short breaths against the base of your neck as he gives kitten licks to your collarbone. His half lidded eyes shoot up to yours excitedly when he feels the small hum of your approval against his lips. You'd honestly been waiting forever, quickly growing tired of squeezing your thighs together and resisting the urge to meet his dry thrusts against you.
He's kissing you even more passionately than before, reciprocating had made you accidentally nick his lip with your teeth. Your eyes widen when you taste the metallic crimson on your tongue and you're pulling away to apologize.
He's huffing softly like he's disappointed you bothered stopping and licks the blood from his busted lip, then yours before moving in to kiss you again.
Apparently unafraid of getting nicked again.
Slender fingers pull your panties down to pool at your ankles alongside your uniform, rushing to pull his own tracksuit off. You help him shrug off his jacket and pull his pants down for him earning a strained whine from him when your barely brush his crotch.
Pecking your lips repeatedly as he pulls down his boxers and crowds your space, forcing you to lean against the sink more. But he keeps moving forwards, lifting up your hips slightly so you're slightly sat on the ceramic top so you kick your tracksuit off completely, then he starts to line himself up against you.
He gasps sharply when the tip pushes against your clit, his body hunching over slightly as his head falls. Repeating the action a few more times, smearing his pre cum all over your pussy, making more of a mess than you initially planned to clean up. But it's like his mind is somewhere else completely, occasional whimpers leaving his throat, pink lips he bit down on harshly as he rubbed his cock against your folds.
"You feel so n-nice... not even inside you yet. Who woulda thought h-huh?"
And he's finally nudging himself inside, stretching you out more than what you were prepared for making you bite your lip as you place a firm hand over your mouth to muffle the moan about to leave your lips. He grins stupidly at the sight as he finally bottoms out. He's holding your hips in a death binding grip and you wish he would move already. What you didn't know is that he's internally willing himself not to cum on the spot. He definitely needed this.
Without any warning he's slamming his hips into yours, the hand over your mouth that had relaxed tightening again to quiet your sounds. You honestly thought he was stupid for a moment, not even caring for the sounds that fell from his own lips as his eyes locked with yours, their dusted hazily from the pleasure of your walls wetly wrapped around him. The sounds coming from your wetness was embarassing enough, reaching your ears and making them burn.
"F-uck...so good could finish right now...don't think I can pull o-out."
What? Can't pull out? Your eyes widen at the statement and one of your hands leave the edge of the sink to roughly tug at his hair to snap him out of it but you're met with a loud moan in response. The strong verbal feedback from the action that was meant to be harsh startled you slightly, but the sound he made went straight to your core, making you squeeze around him tighter. You're slowly forgetting what you had wanted to say as your body's response and your hand in his hair triggers his urge to finally cum.
Pressing his pelvis harder against you with each snap of his hips so your clit gets stimulated. You let go of your grip on the sink completely now, one hand dug tightly in his hair and the other clawing gently at the nape of his neck. You're slightly surprised his grip on your hips is enough to support you and honestly if he was more aware he'd be surprised too.
But he's not, he's pushing himself into you deeper and deeper and you swear his trying to shoot it right into your womb. Silent whines rack your body as he tucks his head into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.
Then he's cumming, deep. Your eyes shoot open at the unfamiliar warm feeling filling you up. His hips are still stuttering to help you get there and you finally come undone with a small cry. The orgasm hitting harder than what you expected causing you to wrap your legs around his hips in a vice grip. His thrusts have slowed significantly, making sure he'd given you all of him before he'd even dream of stopping.
When he finally pulls out you're instantly met with the emptiness in your stomach, everything between your legs feels sticky and your legs trembled. He's panting softly against your neck and holding you close to him but now he's rubbing your back possessively as he whispers small thanks against your skin.
He's picking you up off the sink and placing you back on your feet carefully, you thank him quietly for doing so. But then he's laying his jacket openly on the floor and taking you by the waist to slowly lower you onto it?
"'m not done yet...just one more I promise. It'll feel great for both of us."
Small kisses along the curve of your breasts to your cheek urge you to agree playfully and your hair splays out on the floor. This probably wouldn't be the last one.
| ₊˚⊹ᰔ
You hadn't meant it to become routine, really, you didn't. But somehow he was able to figure out who you were each time you were on duty. He'd put in the effort of learning the guards rotation so he knew when you'd be around to escort him back from the bathroom. You always insist that this can't be a daily think but he only smiles as he pulls off your mask for you and backs you into a nearby stall.
#needthat
273 notes ¡ View notes
skeletonh0e ¡ 2 days ago
Note
You will add Edgy, yeah 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Write for Edgy~ 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀
He’s hot great.
ANYWAY— since you wrote general hcs for US Sans, is it okay if I ask for the same but with Fell?
Also, I’m happy that I can get to accompany your blog since the start :)) I’ll be there for your next writing, good luck! <3
Awww thank you sm! And as for Edge, I'm tempted. He is hot you right, anyway time for the red boy. Gender neutral reader and some suggestive content because Fell is a ✨ sleazebag ✨, a minor tw for alcoholism because Fell is also a bit of a mess
Underfell Sans x Reader Headcanons
Remember how I said Swap was inexperienced and needed some time adjusting to a relationship? Same here tbh.
Granted Fell isn't completely naive nor does he have zero relationship experience, he's had hook ups, the occasional date and has certainly tried his hand at it but like?
A serious committed relationship when he's deeply invested in the person and that sentiment is 100% returned? He's out of his element
It takes a level of patience on your part, he's not a bad partner, he loves yous and god dammit he's trying! But he's utterly shit at communication, impulsive, impatient, insensitive and can be an asshole even when he's not trying to be
Doesn't help the fact that there is a part of him scared that you will leave, hurt him, betray him, and he can lash out about those feelings real easily.
You two will find your rhythm eventually, but it's not instant and even then he makes it clear he is trying his best, he apologizes when he can in his own round about way, he tries to be sweet without seeming "soft", etc, etc.
After being together for awhile you've properly got everything settled in, not that you'll ever stop having issues (that's part of being a couple) but you've basically got everything sorted out allowing a new level of comfort
A very jealous guy tbh, it once again ties back into some underlying insecurities but generally he just doesn't like it when anyone gets too close. He'll frequently insert himself into conversations or just pull you into an embrace while glaring at the poor fucker in question
The message is always clear. His.
Surprisingly handsy, it's not like there's constant PDA but he'll frequently wrap an arm around your shoulder, nippling at your neck, happily set you right on his lap and it isn't unusual for him to just straight up slap your ass before leaving
Always looking like the smugest bastard alive when he does it
More lovey dovey crap is kind of kept behind doors though, you can't mess with his tough guy image alright. Though occasionally he'll let certain gestures slide
He really softens up when he's drunk though, something that happens more frequently than it should.
Your grouchy angry "none of that soft shit" boyfriend suddenly is all over you, praising you, kissing you, nuzzling you, telling you how much he loves you and it's a little embarrassing.
Taking care of his drunk ass is a common practice, dealing with him hung over is the other one. Which yeah in the mornings he's kinda just back to his usual self
Getting him food, water and aspirin is your go to, sometimes he'll jokingly ask if you're sure you're not an angel because it's a hell of a lot better than what Papyrus does
Not big on pet names but occasionally calls you stuff like "darling" or "sweet heart", maybe "doll" depending on the situation.
He's definitely the type of boyfriend that takes on a "only I I can bully you" mentality, he'll call you out for doing something dumb or extremely lame but the moment someone else tries to do that exact same thing he slaps them on pure impulse
You do occasionally have to reign him in as he is the type of guy to let things escalate, which he does do for you...reluctantly.
He has many unique ways of showing that he cares, sometimes they are more subtle and sometimes they're more overt, however if ever asked he'll never deny his feelings for you
"Do you loooove me?"
"i think you get too much of a kick outta asking- yes"
21 notes ¡ View notes
ebbpettier ¡ 2 months ago
Text
"baz pitch is really bad in bed" i say into the mic. the crowd boos, but a single voice rings out above the condemnation of the masses.
"he's right!"
i look up. it's the crucible itself. and it spoke the truth.
12 notes ¡ View notes
mononijikayu ¡ 24 days ago
Text
you belong with me — nanami kento.
Tumblr media
"Hi….I’m Kento."
“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied.
“Yeah, that’s my name.”
“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.
“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.
GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;
WARNING/S: afab! reader, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, car sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my love, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, best friend! nanami kento, best friend! reader;
WORD COUNT: 14k words.
NOTE: hello everyone, this is the final fic for 2024!!! wah, there's a lot to say. first and foremost, this fic would not be possible if it wasn't for the lovely person who commissioned it from me awhile back. please give them a lot of love and a lot of thanks.
they were my first ever commission here and still it flutters my heart with joy to have worked them. they were so good to me and continues to do so, with how they want to share this fic with you too.
also, i want to thank you all for sticking with me this 2024. it was a long road and a really painful time. i wrote to escape these painful times and i got through 2024 with you guys, just enjoying stories in my head. so thank you!!! there were a lot and there are still a lot i haven't published here.
i hope we continue to be together in 2025 too. i'll continue to write for both of us, to have solace in hard times. i bow to you in all ways that i can. thank you for being good to me!!! i love you all. this is kayu signing off for 2024. please have a lovely and wonderful new year and i'll see you on january 2025 <33333
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
Tumblr media
══════════════════
EVEN AS A CHILD, YOU THOUGHT THAT HE BELONGED TO YOU. It was a childish little thing, you knew that much. But the moment you met Nanami Kento at the park when you were five years old, you just knew he was going to be your best friend.
And no one else could claim that from you. It wasn’t something you decided after a long debate in your head. If anything, it was instinctive, instant, like the way a flower turns toward the sun. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t seem to mind it.
That day, Nanami Kento was sitting on the swings, looking unusually serious for a kid. His little legs dangled, barely brushing the ground, and he rocked back and forth so slightly it was as if he wasn’t even moving. It was odd. 
Most kids treated the swings like they were flying machines, pumping their legs wildly, laughing as they soared. But not Kento. He just sat there, his small hands gripping the chains, his gaze fixed on the ground as though it held all the answers to the universe.
It wasn’t sadness—not exactly. He didn’t look miserable or lonely. No, it was more like he was... satisfied. Content in his little bubble of silence, where the noise of the playground seemed to slide right past him.
You, however, were not content with his quiet. What could a kid possibly have to think about so deeply? Why wasn’t he running around, chasing someone, or shouting nonsense with the other kids? How could he stomach sitting there alone for so long?
The questions buzzed in your head, but more than that, you felt a pull. You wanted to know him. You wanted him to talk to you, to share whatever thoughts were hiding behind those serious brown eyes. And if he wouldn’t come to you, well, that was fine. You’d go to him.
You had the kind of confidence that only comes from being five years old and utterly fearless. The kind of confidence that didn’t know rejection or hesitation, only the certainty that the world would say "yes" if you asked it nicely enough.
So, you marched right up to him, your pigtails bouncing with each determined step. You put on your brightest smile, the kind of smile that has always gotten adults to bend down and coo. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?”
"Hi!" you announced, planting yourself firmly in front of him like he had no choice but to acknowledge you. You told him your name, grinning at him. 
He blinked, startled out of his deep, secured thoughts to the sight of you. It took a while, but he  lifted his caramel gaze to meet yours. For a moment, he just looked at you, like he wasn’t sure if you were real. No one has ever approached him before, well not as brazenly as this. Then, finally, he answered you back. 
"Hi….I’m Kento."
“Kento, huh.” you said, testing the name again like you were rolling it around in your head, trying to get the feel of it. After a moment, you nodded, satisfied. 
“Yeah, that’s my name.”
“That’s a good name.” You declared it with the authority of a five-year-old who had decided someone was officially worth their time.
“Your name’s okay too... I guess,” Kento replied, his tone so nonchalant it was almost teasing.
“Huh? It’s pretty!” you retorted, your hands flying to your hips, a slight pout settling on your lips. “My mom thought hard about it, you know!”
“So did mine.” Kento shot back, a flicker of mischief lighting his normally serious face. Then, in a tone that was just a little too smug, he added, “It’s a good name too.”
For a second, you just stared at him, caught off guard by the slyness in his tone. Then, to your own surprise, you burst out laughing. It wasn’t just the words that got to you—it was the way he said them, so calm and deliberate, like he was throwing you a challenge wrapped in politeness.
“You’re funny, you know that?” you decided, grinning widely.
Kento raised an eyebrow at that, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Well, you are.” you said firmly, as though your opinion was final. “So, Kento, what do you wanna do? We could swing, or climb the jungle gym, or—oh! We could build a sandcastle!”
He blinked, caught off guard by your rapid-fire suggestions. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, like he wasn’t used to making decisions for playtime.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand without a second thought. “Then we’re doing the sandcastle! Come on, you’re gonna love it.”
He let you pull him along, his steps falling into rhythm with yours. “What if I don’t?” he asked, his voice so soft you almost missed the challenge in it.
“You will!” you said confidently, already imagining the crooked towers you’d build together. “Because I said so.”
Nanami Kento didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet laugh, the sound so small you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention. But you were paying attention, because something about this boy made you want to see every little detail he kept hidden in that quiet bubble of his.
From that moment, Kento Nanami became yours.
He knew that just as much as you did, even then.
And he was certain you were just as much his from then.
It wasn’t long into your days of playdates before you started staking your claim. You didn’t mean to—well, maybe you did. That really didn’t matter. What mattered was that you and Kento were having fun. Like the time some other kids approached while you and Kento were hard at work in the sandbox, trying to make your castle less crooked.
"Hey, kid!" one of them called, pointing at the little shovel in Kento’s hands. "Can I borrow that?"
"No way." you said firmly before Kento could even open his mouth. You shot the kid a look that clearly said back off. "We’re using it."
"But—"
"Nope. Sorry. It’s ours to play with." you cut them off, turning back to your castle as if the conversation was over. "Right, Kento?"
Kento hesitated for a second, glancing between you and the other kid, before quietly nodding. "Right."
The other kids' faces were filled with harsh looks at what you said. But you didn’t care. All they could do was huff and puff until they were blue in the face. You would never budge, not even if they wanted you too. 
You were a tough girl. And you always got what you wanted. And you wanted your new friend and his attention only on you. So you didn't care what you did. You’ll keep your friend, no matter what they want. 
Soon enough, they gave in and went to wander off. You can only smile. You didn’t feel the slightest bit bad. If anything, you had wished that they had left much sooner. 
You turned to Kento with a satisfied smile. "Good. They’d just mess it up anyway. It’s better if we play together, only us!"
Kento tilted his head, watching you with that quiet curiosity he always seemed to have. You seemed to be content about playing just by yourself, by his side. Not many kids seem to be content about wanting to do that at all.
"Why don’t you let other kids play with us?" he asked.
You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious. "Because you’re my friend. I found you first. That means you’re mine."
For a moment, he just stared at you.
Then, slowly, that tiny, barely-there smile returned.
"Okay." he said simply, like he didn’t mind one bit.
══════════════════
YEARS DRAGGED ON IN A FLASH FOR BOTH OF YOU. From that day forward, Nanami Kento was your shadow. Or maybe you were his—it often depended on who was asking and whose ego needed inflating at the moment.
But that was just how it was between the two of you. And you were content about how that goes. You knew he was just the same. Not because you went around declaring it (okay, maybe you did once or twice), but because your actions left no room for doubt.
The two of you were inseparable, and everyone knew it. In a way, both your parents were both glad and concerned about it. Glad that you both were in each other’s lives, nurturing and caring for each other. That means you both weren’t lonely, and you both were happily playing with each other day in and out of school.
But concerned that you weren’t letting each other find any other people in your lives and explore other friendships. But that hardly mattered to the two of you. Both of you didn’t budge. You didn’t need anyone else. If anything, you only need each other. You were both content with that. 
If there was a school project, Nanami Kento was your partner. No debates, no negotiation. You made sure of it every single time. It got to the point where teachers didn’t even bother asking anymore. By third grade, the class roster might as well have been printed with your name and his own written in bold under "Partners" for every project.
“Do you guys ever work with anyone else?” a classmate once dared to ask.
“Why would we?” you replied, looking genuinely puzzled. “He’s the best at making the physical parts.I don’t need anyone else.”
Kento, standing beside you, simply shrugged. “She’s good at explaining the messy, hard parts.” he said, so matter-of-factly it left no room for argument.
At lunch, it was no different. You always saved him a spot, waving him over like a VIP guest being ushered past the velvet rope. And no one dared sit with the two of you. Not after The Incident.
There was one time where a new kid made the mistake of sliding into the seat next to Nanami Kento before he got there. You didn’t even hesitate to act as quickly as you could. 
“Excuse me, new kid.” you said, your voice sugary sweet, but your eyes narrowing dangerously.
“What?” the kid asked, glancing up at you.
“That’s his seat.” You pointed toward Kento, who was still in the lunch line, entirely oblivious to the showdown brewing at the table.
“Seats are for everyone in the school.” the kid said, with all the defiance of someone who didn’t know better yet. “I can sit wherever I want.”
And that’s when you did it. You reached out and swatted their hand as they tried to open their milk carton. You glared at him, almost as cold as the North Pole. He gulped at your glare. You were terrifying for a middle schooler.
“Go. Somewhere. Else.” you said, every word punctuated with a glare that could have sent a grown man packing. “That’s HIS seat!”
The new kid was terrified and immediately scurried off, muttering something about "territorial weirdos." — that was another thing for the school to whisper about in their past time. But you didn’t care. 
By the time that he got out of the boy’s toilets, Nanami Kento got to the table, his spot was as clear as always, and you were already peeling the wrapper off the sandwich your mom made for him like nothing had happened.
“Thanks.” he said, sitting down without even asking why the kid from earlier was now eating on the other side of the cafeteria. He saw that of course. But he didn’t dare ask. “Thank your mom for me, about the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome.” you replied, sliding his sandwich over to him. You smiled as he opened his own lunch bag and started to pull out chocolate pudding in a tupperware. “Ohhhh, your mom thought of dessert!”
“Hm, I asked her.” Kento retorts back to you, smiling softly at your excitement. “Since you like chocolate pudding.”
“Thank your mama for me, okay?”
“Hm, I will.”
But of course, your protectiveness didn’t stop at lunch seats. If anything, you were protective of him to the point that it was already insane. If anyone so much as thought about teasing him, you were on them like a hawk. It didn’t matter if it was a stupid nickname or a poorly aimed joke. Nanami Kento wasn’t going to deal with any of it, not on your watch.
“Hey, Kento, why are you so quiet all the time?” one boy snickered during recess, his tone dripping with mockery.
Before Kento could even respond, you were already there, hands on your hips and glaring like you were ready to call down the wrath of the heavens. You glared at the kid as though he was meeting to face a thousand suns. 
“Maybe he’s quiet because he doesn’t waste time saying dumb things like you do.” you snapped, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow for maximum effect. “Stop being a weird waste of space and leave him alone, you freak!”
The boy tried to stammer something in response, but you didn’t wait to hear it. You didn’t care for what they said. Only for what Kento says. You rolled your eyes at the kid, as though he bored you and looked away. Soon enough, you turned back to Kento, your expression softening immediately. 
“Come on, Kento.” you said, grabbing his hand. “We’re going to the swings.”
Kento didn’t say much about that. But later, when that same boy made a malicious face at you from across the playground and had made a plan to chase you with a bottle of water to throw, Nanami Kento was the first to sense a threat against you.
He sighed heavily and without even looking up from his picture book muttered just loud enough for you to hear. “She’s faster than you, you know? She would wet your hair and make fun of you for it. So, I wouldn’t try it.”
The boy stayed far away after that.
And you could only giggle at what he said.
Nanami Kento knew you all too well.
But just as much as you were ready to fight Nanami Kento’s battles, he was ready to fight yours. And while you often took on challenges with the energy of a charging bull, Kento’s approach was quieter, deadlier—like a knife slipping between ribs before anyone even noticed it was there. He was just that type of kid, you think.
You first realized just how far Kento was willing to go for you one day when a group of older girls decided to target your ponytails. It wasn’t a big deal to you at first; you were used to the occasional teasing. But this time, something about their tone, or maybe the way they crowded around, everything about it had made your stomach twist.
“Why do you always look like you just rolled out of bed?” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with faux innocence.
Her friends burst into laughter, as if she’d just delivered the punchline of the century. You bristled, the words forming on your tongue to snap back. But before you could speak, Kento appeared, slipping between you and the girls like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Why do you care?” he asked, his tone calm, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
It was such a simple question, but somehow it silenced the entire group. The girl blinked at him, thrown off by his directness. Kento yawned, as though he was already bored with her. She had never expected anything from him. Kento was quiet and reserved. 
He was also popular and quite a handsome young boy that people had a crush on. Even when he didn’t talk or pay any mind to any of them. You glared at this girl, as though she was the worst of them all. She’s always been trying to take Kento from you.
“Uh, excuse me?” she said, attempting to regain her composure.
“You heard me.” Kento’s gaze was steady, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was an edge to his voice that made it clear he wasn’t messing around. “Why do you care what she looks like? Or are you just bored?”
The giggling stopped. 
“Well, I—” The girl floundered, her cheeks turning pink. 
“She looks fine to me.” Kento interrupted smoothly, tilting his head slightly as if he were assessing them. “Better than you, anyway. I mean, those pants with that shirt? What are you thinking? Does your mom even love you if she allows you to wear something like that?”
You could’ve heard a pin drop at what he had said. You look at him, blinkingly. Before finding yourself bellowing at laughter at how blunt he had worked everything. The girls gasped, their mouths falling open in perfect synchronization. One of them muttered something about “rude boys” and then, just like that, they were gone, retreating with their tails between their legs.
You stood there, stunned, as Kento turned back to you like nothing had happened. You finally straightened yourself from your laughing form. You wiped your eyes as you turned back at him. You grinned at his words. 
“Better than her?” you repeated later as the two of you walked back to class. You were trying not to laugh, but the corners of your mouth kept twitching upward.
“It’s true. You already know that.” he said simply, not bothering to look up from the book he’d already opened, as if the whole thing hadn’t even fazed him.
“Aw, you think I’m cute, don’t you?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
“Don’t push it.” he replied dryly, but the tiny smirk playing at the corner of his lips betrayed him.
══════════════════
BUT OF COURSE, THIS ONLY INTENSIFIED ONCE YOU BOTH GREW OLDER. Entering this new environment, in high school — one could say nothing had ever changed. If anything, it has only grown more concrete that you and Nanami Kento, no one can separate the two of you even if they tried. 
If one were to describe how you both were, it would be like being a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Inseparable. And even when people questioned it, you turned them down just as easily. Little by little, people barely questioned it anymore. 
You had long since reached the point where your friendship was so solid that it seemed like a fact of life. If anyone tried to ask about it, the answer was already clear: You two were a package deal. And while you liked it that way, not everyone seemed to get the memo.
It didn’t take long for the attention to roll in once high school started. You were used to it by now. After all, you and Kento had always been a pair of conspicuously close friends, so naturally, people were curious. 
But this was a different kind of curiosity, the kind that came with stares and whispers behind your backs. Everyone seemed to have suddenly developed a keen interest in your best friend, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of his brooding good looks or that deep, mysterious aura he carried, but maybe, probably both.
It started with the girls, as it usually did. They would hover around Kento in class, a little too eager to engage in conversations about anything—his favorite books, his thoughts on the weather, even the random things he’d written in the margins of his notes. It didn’t matter what they brought up; they were just looking for an excuse to get a reaction out of him. 
They wanted to be the one to crack the mystery that was Nanami Kento. And of course, they expected him to open up, to smile, to laugh, to do something that would confirm they were special enough to make him forget his usual quiet, studious demeanor.
But Kento, being the stoic, no-nonsense guy he was, would respond with quiet politeness, barely even registering their presence. He would tilt his head slightly when they asked questions, look at them through the edge of his glasses, and give just enough of an answer to keep things from getting awkward.
The girls would often stare at him a little longer than necessary, hoping for a second of warmth or acknowledgment. But no matter how many times they tried, all they got was that polite, impersonal smile that didn’t reach his eyes. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care; it was just that he didn’t care about them, not in the way they wanted. 
To Nanami Kento, it was all just noise. So, he’d just keep his focus on what mattered, which was probably the latest algebra problem or his ongoing internal monologue about the best way to prepare his next snack.
Even as an emo guy with that black hoodie, messy blond hair, brooding eyes that screamed ‘don’t talk to me, but if you do, be prepared for my sarcasm’—people still flocked to him. It was almost unfair, you thought. He had this combination of boy-next-door charm and detached, almost tragic mystique that girls couldn’t resist. 
He was a pretty boy, you knew that much. You’d known him long enough to appreciate the way his eyes glinted in the sunlight, how his messy hair always looked effortlessly perfect, how he somehow made a monotone voice sound like the most hypnotic thing in the room.
And it wasn’t just the girls, either. The guys were starting to notice, too. Sure, they didn’t hover the same way, but they’d get a little too chatty when Kento was around, laughing a little too hard at his dry jokes, trying just a bit too hard to be friendly.
Everyone knew he wasn’t the type to just buddy up with anyone, and that mystery only made him more desirable. So when they’d get too close, you’d notice the slight twitch of Kento’s eyebrow, the way he’d lean just a little bit further away to make it clear that he was not interested in their company.
But the one thing you didn’t doubt was this: Kento was really polite. He never outright rejected anyone, and that politeness was a plus. Sure, it drove you a little crazy when they’d swarm him like bees to honey.
But you had to admit that his politeness was a rare commodity in a world where most people had no issue turning someone down rudely or making them feel uncomfortable. Kento didn’t do that. He’d simply nod back at people and get back to whatever it was he was doing, never making a fuss about the attention.
Well, it was better than over half the school, that’s for sure. You’d seen the way people treated each other, cold and snide, brushing off others without so much as a second thought. Kento was a rare gem in that regard. He was a gentleman, even in the face of all the attention he was getting, and that made it all the more frustrating. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t want people to admire him; you just didn’t like the thought of anyone thinking they could replace you. You and Kento had this bond, a strong one, one that didn’t need words to be understood. But here was the thing—everyone else didn’t get it. And that was where the fun (and by fun, you mean sneaky sabotage) began.
After all, who else could say they knew all his little quirks? Who else had shared so many quiet lunches under that same oak tree, or been the one to force him to eat a full meal instead of staring at his book? You were his best friend, and that meant you had a certain, special claim on him, no matter how many girls wanted to make themselves part of his world.
But, like the selfless best friend you were, you’d keep that fact under wraps. No one needed to know you had a stake in him—especially when you were also the one helping him avoid the chaos of all his newfound admirers. Let them keep fighting over who could be the one to crack Kento's cold exterior; you'd be the one to keep it safe.
But that wasn’t enough. No, they wanted more. They wanted to peel back the layers, crack open that cool exterior, and find whatever hidden treasure lay beneath. And that was where you came in. That’s where you always have to come in. He was your best friend, after all.
It wasn’t that you hated the attention Kento was getting, but it was yours, wasn’t it? You didn’t want anyone to think they could just stroll up and waltz into the little bubble you and Kento had created. And you know he agreed. He doesn’t really need anyone else, he’s said that to you numerous times.
So naturally, you and Kento found creative ways to sabotage any admirer who dared to get too close. It wasn’t malicious, exactly. Well, not to you or Kento. it was more like you were just “protecting” him, and, on occasion, he did the same for you.
It started with the simple things. You'd hover near him during lunch, casually tossing your snacks at him in a way that made it obvious you didn’t want him interacting too much with anyone else. It was like a game of cat-and-mouse between the two of you. Both of you pretended you weren’t doing it, but everyone knew exactly what you were up to.
For example, when this girl from the other class named Yuki asked to sit with Kento one day during lunch time, you quickly swooped in, plopping down next to him like you were the most important thing in his world. You grinned at him and he hummed.
“Hey, Kentooooo!” you said, dropping your lunch tray in front of him. “Did you get those history notes I gave you this morning?”
Yuki opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, you continued to talk to him with a brighter grin. You nonchalantly handed your strawberry milk carton to him and he started to open it for you with the same amount of cool. 
“I was thinking of making brownies this weekend. You like chocolate, right? The ones that we used to buy at the mart? It hasn’t changed, right?” You sent her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know it's probably too sweet, but it’s his favorite.”
Kento nodded back at you as he placed your strawberry milk carton on the side. You thanked him happily as you started to drink with happy sounds. Kento simply looked at Yuki with the politest expression he could muster and muttered back at her. 
“Sorry, I’ve got a study group with her after school. Maybe next time.”
Yuki didn’t even bother trying to argue, just nodding stiffly before retreating. You shot Kento a quick grin, but before you could say anything, he just sighed and went back to his book.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” he muttered under his breath. “Could have handled that myself.”
“But I have to. You know that.” you said with a grin, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth. “You’re my best friend, not hers.”
One day at lunch, as you and Kento sat under the shade of the old oak tree, munching on your usual snacks, a girl named Mia from your history class walked by. She glanced at Kento, then at you, then back at Kento, before finally stopping a few feet away.
"Hey, Kento!" she called, her voice way too sweet for your liking. “Mind if I join you guys?”
You didn’t even have to look up from your crackers. “Sure, but he doesn’t bite.” you said, not even looking at Mia. “I mean, I don’t think so...”
Kento, who had been engrossed in a textbook the size of a brick, glanced up at you before looking back at Mia. "I can sit alone, you know." he said, a little too casually, not even bothering to hide the fact that he didn’t care much for the attention.
Mia, undeterred, tried again. “Are you sure? I heard you like this band, too. Maybe we could—”
But before she could finish her sentence, you leaned forward, dropping a half-eaten cracker dramatically into your lap as if to make your point clear. 
"If you want to talk about music, you’re gonna have to take it up with me right now, okay?" you declared, giving her your best “this is my turf” look. "Kento here’s more into his book right now, not whatever band you think you have in common with him."
Kento blinked slowly, clearly trying to figure out why he was being pulled into this, but didn't argue. He just glanced at you and nodded, an expression you knew meant, I’m not getting involved in this one.
Mia looked between you and Kento, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Okay, fine.” she muttered before turning around and walking off, her face flushed red.
"Good job, hero," Kento muttered under his breath, voice dry.
You smirked at him. "You’re welcome, sunshine."
Of course, it wasn’t like you were the only one who was possessive. Nanami Kento hated that you were constantly getting hit on. It drove him absolutely insane. Apparently, teenage boys had this ridiculous notion that your consistent rejections made you more appealing. The more you turned them down, the more determined they became, like you were some kind of prize to be won.
Nanami Kento of course, naturally, found this logic baffling—and irritating. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to handle yourself; he absolutely did. He hated everyone else, maybe most of all the men around him and of course — you. 
But watching those guys swarm around you, trying to impress you with their lame jokes or over-the-top compliments, made his jaw tighten and his grip on his pen just a little too firm. Oh, he hated men even more like that. And, well, Kento was never one to sit back and let something annoy him for too long. Not when it comes to you.
But of course, there are things that come as unexpected too.
Maybe it was because Nanami Kento was too perceptive.
Maybe he was just good at dissecting situations happening.
He doesn’t know how this happened, or how this came to pass.
But today would change his life for good, that was certain.
A week after one particularly bold senior cornered you after class to “ask for your number” Kento decided to return the favor—not with dramatics, of course, but with his usual understated, calm assertiveness.
You were sitting in the library, animatedly telling Kento about your latest sketch. It was a concept you were certain would win the upcoming art contest. He was actually paying attention, nodding slightly as you explained your technique, when suddenly, a guy from the senior class decided to interrupt.
“Hey, you’re the girl who draws, right?” the senior asked, leaning against the edge of the table with a grin that screamed overconfident.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah, that’s me.”
“Well,” he continued, practically oozing smugness, “I was thinking, maybe you’d want to collaborate on some sketches sometime. You know, we could—”
Before he could finish whatever weak line he’d rehearsed, Kento smoothly slid into the seat beside you, his broad shoulders cutting off your view of the guy. He didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he turned to you, his voice calm but laced with just enough edge to make his point.
“I’m pretty sure sketching is a solitary activity.” Kento said matter-of-factly. “You know, for concentration… unless, of course, you want a distraction?”
The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Kento’s sudden presence. “Uh, no, I—”
Kento didn’t let him finish. “You know….” he continued, still not looking at the guy. “It’s actually better if you’re alone when you’re working. Less… interruptions.” 
He then picked up your sketchbook, flipping through it with the kind of casual indifference that somehow made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Your jaw dropped at what he’s done.He’s silly like this sometimes, you think to yourself. 
“Kento!” you half-laughed, half-scolded, reaching for your sketchbook. “That’s my sketchbook!”
“Yeah, I know, I know.” he replied nonchalantly, not even pretending to give it back. His attention wasn’t on your sketches anymore, though. His eyes were fixed on the poor senior, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably under Kento’s unnervingly calm stare. 
“Do you mind?” Kento said coolly. “She’s busy.”
The guy stammered something unintelligible, his confidence evaporating faster than a spilled soda in the sun. “Uh… yeah, maybe another time, I guess.” he mumbled before slinking off, clearly realizing he was no match for Nanami Kento’s level of subtle intimidation.
Once the guy was gone, you turned back to Kento, crossing your arms with a mix of exasperation and amusement. You giggled to yourself for a moment. He sighed, looking at how amused you were. It was always like this with you, getting giddy when he does things like this.
“Nice one, Kento.” you said, smirking. “You do know I could have handled that, right?”
Kento raised an eyebrow, setting your sketchbook back down and leaning back in his chair like nothing had happened. You take it back from him, giving him a small thanks. He couldn’t stop looking at you. But when you looked up again, he'd already looked away.
“Sure.” he said, his lips curling into that faint, almost-smile of his. “But it looked like you were busy… talking to him.”
You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “What was that even about? You’re not my bodyguard, you know.”
“I wasn’t being a bodyguard.” he replied, his tone annoyingly calm. “I was just... pointing out how distracting he was being.”
“Right, right.” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “And that had nothing to do with you hating that he interrupted us?”
Kento didn’t answer right away, but the way his eyes flickered with quiet amusement gave him away. He never likes admitting it out loud, but he feels glad. He feels glad when he makes sure you both are alone. You were all he needed after all.
“Maybe.” he finally admitted, his voice as casual as ever. “Or maybe I just wanted to look at your sketchbook.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you talk too much.” he countered, eyes shining softly against your own.
You giggled back at him, your lips smiling beautifully at him. Beautifully more than ever before. “But you like it that way, don’t you?”
Huh, what was that? He thought to himself.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
Was that his heart beating like that just now?
For a moment, he stops and looks at you. You were unaware about what happened just now. Instead, you were back on your sketching, humming to some song you were obsessed with right now. Kento swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how he was looking at you. He cleared his throat. 
“We should get going.” he said finally, his voice a little quieter than usual. “The library closes soon.”
You nodded, falling into step beside him as you always did. But as you walked, Kento couldn’t help sneaking a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. He’d always thought of himself as someone who was good at keeping his emotions in check, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Is this what it feels like? Kento wondered as he watched you walk off in front of him. 
He stops. He takes in the sight of you. You were laughing, hopping on the tiles one by one. The sun glows behind you like a beacon leading him to the direction of life. You nearly fell, making him jump forward. But you held your balance. 
And then you laughed. Laughed so beautifully that he doesn’t know what to do.  He could feel every fiber of him turning warm, warmer and redder than ever before. His heart beating out of rhythm again. 
Ah, shit. Kento once more thinks to himself. I’m screwed.
══════════════════
HE DOESN’T THINK TO SAY ANYTHING. How could he, when he’s scared about the outcome? But as the time flew by as fast as it could, he knew he can’t keep being a coward about it. He had to say something. He should do it soon.
It was going to come out anyway. College was looming on both your shoulders. And with that, a lot of uncertainty came. If he says something, at the very least there would be something certain, concrete as your friendship. 
The two of you sat cross-legged on the floor of Kento’s family home, a single bottle of sake between you. Neither of you had much experience with alcohol, but the thrill of being eighteen and toeing the line of rebellion was too tempting to resist.
Kento poured carefully into the mismatched cups you'd found in his cupboard, his movements precise, even in the low light.
"Cheers, cheers!" you yell with that bright eyed grin, raising your cup to him.
"To...?" he asked, his brow arching slightly, always wanting things to have a purpose.
"To us!" you said simply, eyes sparkling with mischief.
He hesitated, his breath catching in his chest, before clicking his cup against yours. "To us."
The first sip was sharp, burning its way down, but it wasn’t long before the alcohol began to work its magic with swift effectivity. You laughed more freely, leaning closer to him, and your words came faster, your thoughts unfiltered.
"You know, Kentooooo." you said, poking his shoulder with a pout. "You’re, like, ridiculously handsome, right?"
Kento froze mid-sip, his ears instantly turning as pink as your sweater. "W–what?"
"I mean it! You’re so... ugh…." you groaned, tossing your head back dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?"
"Like what?" he asked, his voice soft, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest.
"Like you’re trying not to smile, but your eyes are giving you away." you teased, your grin widening as you poked his cheek this time.
Nanami Kento could feel his heart pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. Every word you spoke chipped away at his usual composure, and he could feel himself unraveling under the weight of your drunken admiration. In just this moment, you wholly outwit him. You make him come undone. Only you can have that effect on him. Only you. 
"You’re unbelievable, you know that?" he muttered, trying to look away, but you caught his chin, turning his face back to yours.
"Admit it already, won’t you?" you said, your voice lower now, but no less playful. "You like me. Maybe even a little too much."
Kento stared at you, the world blurring slightly around the edges, whether from the alcohol or the way you were looking at him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to do it like this. He didn’t want to put up his hopes that you would be sober enough to know the truth. Or for you to have sober truths pouring out of your sharp grinning lips. 
"I think…" he began, his voice steady but his heart anything but.
“You think?”
"I’m falling for you. More and more. Every second."
You blinked at what had just shifted in the air, your teasing expression softening as you processed his words. Then, to his surprise, you smiled—not mischievously this time, but gently, sweetly. Full with a merry drink, you smiled.
"Good." you whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the faint sweetness of the sake on your breath. "You said really good words.”
Kento barely had time to breathe before you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, leaving his face on fire and his heart completely, utterly yours. Kento froze, the warmth of your lips lingering on his cheek like a brand. His breath hitched as your words sank into the alcohol-drenched air between you. 
“I think I’m already there.”
He stared at you, his usually composed mind now an unsteady swirl of emotions—exhilaration, disbelief, and a flicker of hesitation. Your gaze was soft, dreamy, and undeniably sincere, but the alcohol in your system clouded everything. He said it out loud. But are you sure? How could you be, with how merry the drink is in your belly?
"You don’t mean that." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it too loud would shatter the fragile moment.
"I do. I do." you said, your expression serious despite the light flush of intoxication on your cheeks. You reached for his hand, holding it with a gentle firmness that made his heart stumble in its rhythm.
Kento's fingers curled instinctively around yours before he could stop himself, but his grip was careful, steady. "You're drunk. I just…you can’t say that drunk." he pointed out, his voice more tender than reprimanding.
You frowned, tilting your head like you were trying to understand him through the haze. "So? That doesn’t mean it’s not true."
He sighed, looking down at your joined hands. He wanted so desperately to believe you, to let his heart leap completely into your words, but his rational side, his ever-present voice of reason. It held him back.
"It matters. It matters to me." he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. "If you mean it, I need to hear it when you’re sober. When you’re sure."
"But I am sure, Kento." you insisted, leaning closer, your warmth almost overwhelming him. Your free hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and he felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush.
Kento shook his head, his smile faint but aching with restraint. "Not like this." he murmured. "You’ll wake up tomorrow and—"
"And what? Pretend this didn’t happen?" you interrupted, your brows knitting together. "Do you think I’d forget how much I lo—"
His hand shifted, gently pressing a single finger to your lips to quiet you, though it was more for his sake than yours. He wasn’t sure he could take it, hearing those words from you while your judgment was fogged.
"Stop. Please." he said, his voice barely steady. "Don’t say it now. Not tonight."
Your eyes searched hisfrustration flickering in their depths before softening. You saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way he looked at you like he was holding back an ocean of feelings.
"You're such a romantic, aren’t you?" you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice as a lazy smile spread across your face.
He gave a quiet chuckle, his fingers brushing against your cheek now without realizing it. "Maybe." he admitted, his tone gentler than ever. "But I want this—want us—to start right. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me again."
You let out a small sigh but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as your eyelids grew heavy. You always liked this, taking in his warmth. You don’t think there was any other place you belonged in but his arms.
If you were being honest, you were afraid. He was right. Your words could mean something, and maybe it wouldn’t be as clear as his own. You were drunk. You were really drunk. And feels hazy in your head. It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to your Kento. Not like this.
"Fine." you murmured, your words slurring slightly. "But you’d better be ready for me to say it a hundred times tomorrow. Maybe a thousand."
Kento chuckled again, the sound low and warm in his chest, as he rested his chin lightly on top of your head. "I’ll be ready." he promised, even as his own heart thudded wildly at the thought. “I’m always waiting for you. Always.”
And as you drifted off, still clutching his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, Kento silently vowed to himself: when the time came, he’d tell you how deeply, how completely he felt for you too. He just needed to be sure you knew what it meant.
The morning after that night, you woke up on Kento's couch, the faint remnants of sake lingering in the air. Your head throbbed lightly, and your memories were fuzzy around the edges. Kento, ever thoughtful, had left a glass of water and some aspirin on the table beside you.
"Rough night?" he asked from the kitchen, his voice steady but carefully neutral as he busied himself making coffee.
You groaned, rubbing your temples. "What did I even say last night? I barely remember anything."
He hesitated, his hand tightening briefly on the handle of the coffee pot. He looked over at you, your half-asleep face free of the weight of your drunken confessions. For a moment, he considered saying something, but the words got caught in his throat.
"Nothing too embarrassing," he said instead, forcing a faint smile.
You laughed, your cheeks reddening slightly. "Good. I’d hate to think I made a fool of myself in front of you."
Kento gave a small nod, but his heart felt heavy. You didn’t remember, and he couldn’t bring himself to remind you. Not like this. So, he lets himself break apart. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t let you have guilt. Because if he did, how is that loving you?
So Nanami Kento buried those words, locking them away where they couldn’t touch the fragile balance between you. He told himself it was better this way. But he hopes, maybe one day ��� just one day. You’ll see him too. Sober with your love for him.
══════════════════
THINGS DID CHANGE A BIT WHEN YOU WENT TO COLLEGE. Of course, you both got into the same university. But there’s a rough difference between not only being in different departments, but also being in different campuses. It was a rough travel back and forth. But Nanami Kento was determined to go and visit you.
You often feel a little bad when you look back on those days. Engineering classes were no joke. Too many long hours, grueling projects, and the constant pressure to keep up left you drained most of the time.
You barely had the energy to go out, even when you wanted to. But Kento never minded. He understood in the quiet, steady way that only he could, and instead of waiting for you to have time, he made sure to visit you instead.
It didn’t matter where for him. Whether it was the bustling campus lunch hall, where the two of you would share a plate of something warm while you tried to finish an assignment, or your dorm room, which was always a little messy with textbooks and half-drunk cups of coffee.
What mattered to him wasn’t the place or even what you were doing. What mattered was just being with you.
And that thought? It never fails to make your heart skip a beat. Even now, after everything, it feels just as special as it did back then. You still held dearest to him after all this time. Ever since you were kids, you were his everything. And you were sure, more than ever now, that he was yours too. In all sense of the word.
It’s been a year and a half since that time, since you confessed to Kento. Well, technically, drunk you confessed to him. It was late, and you’d had just enough to drink to make your heart bolder than your brain. You didn’t want to say a word. And you think that Kento was just as much waiting for you to say something.
You were ready to die of embarrassment when you remembered that you had said that. But then you remembered, with just as much horror and embarrassment — he’d confessed too. With that same calm sincerity, he told you he’d felt the same way for a while.
Looking back, it was a little messy, maybe even a lot embarrassing. But it was also sweet, earnest, and so perfect for you two. And honestly? You wouldn’t change a thing. You had said something that clarified things for you.
After all, that drunken confession was the start of something that would make all the challenges of those days worth it, every late-night study session, every coffee-fueled conversation, every stolen moment in between. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.
You were falling for Kento more and more every day, and it was starting to feel like a problem. A big problem. How were you supposed to act normal around him when everything he did—from the way he fixed his tie to the way he said your name—made your heart do backflips?
It wasn’t fair, really. How was it possible that the same person who once laughed so hard he choked on a piece of rice during lunch was also the one making you reconsider your entire perception of love? He was your best friend, and now you couldn’t even look at him without overthinking every little thing.
And to make matters worse, he was visiting you today.
You had approximately 15 minutes to get your life together before Kento arrived, which was nowhere near enough time to deal with the tornado that was your dorm room or the emotional hurricane swirling inside you.
“Okay, okay, calm your tits.” you muttered to yourself, grabbing stray socks off the floor. “Just play it cool. It’s just Kento. You know him best. Real well. He’s been here a million times. No big deal. Totally normal.”
You shoved a pile of notebooks into your desk drawer, praying it wouldn’t jam, and quickly rearranged the pillows on your bed. By the time you heard the knock at your door, your dorm was passable, well barely. And you were mostly sure you didn’t look like a total disaster.
When you opened the door, there he was, Nanami Kento in all of his huge handsome stature, standing there with his usual calm demeanor, holding a bag of snacks. You yelped quietly as you looked at him. Your roommates must have let him inside. 
“Thought you might need these.” he said, giving you one of those small, knowing smiles that made your brain short-circuit.
You blinked at him. “Nanami Kento, are you a psychic?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No, but you texted me at 2 AM complaining about running out of your favorite chips, so I figured this might help. You still have some paperwork to do, right? And you won’t eat unless I come by to remind you. So, I got it.”
“Oh.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more like a nervous croak. “Right. Thanks. You’re, uh…you’re a hero.”
He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room. “Did a tornado hit your room? It was clean last time I came by.”
“What? No!” You crossed your arms defensively. “I cleaned! Mostly.”
Kento gave you a skeptical look before setting the bag of snacks on your desk. “If this is what ‘clean’ looks like to you, remind me never to see it messy.”
You threw a pillow at him, and he caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Careful. That’s my best throw pillow. If you damage it, I’ll charge you emotional damages.”
“Noted, little miss engineer.” he replied, setting the pillow down with exaggerated care. “What’s the rate for emotional damages these days?”
“Depends. How many snacks did you bring?”
“Enough to keep you from suing me.” He tells you with a grin. “Still have some in my car, just in case you wanted more.”
The two of you laughed, and for a moment, it felt like old times. A little bit easy, comfortable, effortless. But then, as Kento sat down on the edge of your bed, something in your chest tightened. How had this annoying, perfect, infuriatingly kind man become someone you couldn’t stop thinking about? Someone you don’t think you could live without?
He looked up at you, tilting his head slightly. “What’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face?”
“What? No!” You blinked rapidly, your cheeks heating. “I was just—uh—zoning out. Engineering stuff. Very complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Right, right.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m definitely not the one who helped you with that last project.”
“Details, details, Nanami Kento. Don’t get bogged down in the details.”
He chuckled, and the sound was so warm and familiar that you almost forgot why you were freaking out in the first place. Almost. Kento takes a moment. He then looks at you as though examining you with careful abandon. Kento wanted to take in the sight of you, after not seeing you for a while.
“You’re weird today, do you know that?” he said, leaning back slightly. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, totally fine. Super fine.” You waved a hand dismissively. “Just tired, you know? Engineering. It’s a grind.”
Kento studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
Your stomach flipped, and you forced a laugh. “Who, me? No way. I’m like…a professional liar. Best in the business.”
“Uh-huh.” He hums back in retort.
He didn’t press further, but the way he looked at you. Everything about his caramel gaze was gentle, understanding, like he already knew what you weren’t saying. Everything about it, everything about him made your heart squeeze.
You sighed internally. How were you supposed to handle this? You couldn’t just blurt out, “Hey, Kento, I think I’m in love with you, and it’s driving me absolutely insane!”
But as he opened the bag of snacks and handed you your favorite, you couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he already knew that you knew. And that maybe he knew that you felt deeply about him. You sighed. Maybe you’re just imagining it.
As the minutes ticked by, Kento made himself right at home in your dorm, sitting cross-legged on your bed and munching on the snacks he’d brought. Meanwhile, you had plopped into your desk chair, scrolling on your phone under the pretense of “taking a break.” 
But in reality, you were desperately trying to distract yourself from the way he looked way too good just casually existing in your space. How could he look that good even as a law major? How can he have time to make your heart feel like this?
As you flicked through your social media feed, you stumbled upon a post that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. It was a picture—Kento, smiling (smiling!) with a group of classmates, apparently from earlier that day. Some of them were girls. Really pretty girls. Those really pretty preppy law girls!
Your first thought was When does Kento even smile like that? He never smiles like that around me!
Your second thought was Who’s the one leaning so close to him? Is she, like, whispering in his ear or something?
You shot a quick, subtle glance at him. He was still on your bed, completely unaware of the emotional spiral you were going through. He crunched on a chip like it was the most normal day in the world.
“Did you have fun today?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Kento raised an eyebrow. “Uh…what?”
“Today. You were with…people from your department.” you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
His brow furrowed toward you slightly. “I mean, yeah, I had a class project meeting. It was fine. Why?”
“Oh, no reason.” you said, voice a little too high-pitched. Fuck, you  were too obvious. You looked back at your phone, scrolling furiously to hide your face. “Just…wondering. Looked fun.”
“Wait.” Kento’s tone shifted. Suddenly you felt his gaze on you. “How do you know about that?”
Your heart dropped. “Uh, I saw it. Online. A picture. No big deal!”
There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. “Are you…jealous?”
“What?!” Your head whipped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Me? Jealous? Of what? Why would I be jealous?”
Kento’s lips quivered into a rare, brat–like smirk, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “No reason at all.” he said smoothly. “Just seems like you’re a little…interested in what I’m doing when I’m not here.”
“Interested? Pfft, no. I was just—just checking to make sure you’re not hanging out with the wrong crowd.” you stammered, flailing for a decent excuse. “You know, bad influences. Peer pressure. That sort of thing.”
“Right, I see.” he said, clearly unconvinced. “Because I’m the type to fall victim to peer pressure.”
“Well, I don’t know that part of your life right now!” you snapped, feeling your face heat up. “Maybe one of those girls was trying to…to make you join a pyramid scheme or something!”
Kento leaned back on your bed, folding his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know.”
“I’m not hiding anything!” you shot back, spinning your chair around so you didn’t have to look at him.
There was a rustle of movement, and then suddenly, he was right behind you, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. You could feel your ears redden at the feeling of him. You squeaked, loud enough for him to hear.
“You’re really bad at lying, too. How come you haven’t evolved at lying? It’s been years and somehow, you’re still bad at it.” he said softly, his voice just teasing enough to make your heart race.
You spun around to face him, glaring. “Okay, fine! Maybe I was a little jealous. Are you happy now?”
Kento blinked, clearly surprised by your sudden outburst. But then, to your absolute horror, he started laughing—actual, full-on laughing. He hadn’t expected for you to just come out and say it like that. You were a prideful little flower, you always have been. 
“You’re laughing at me?!” you cried, swatting at his arm.
“I’m not laughing at you, you know.” he said, still chuckling. “I just didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”
“Well, I did!” You crossed your arms, trying to look annoyed even as your face burned. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Kento’s laughter softened into a small, fond smile, and for a moment, the teasing disappeared. He didn’t know how much he missed you until now. Somehow, the world seemed like it was in proper orbit when he’s with you like this.
“Nothing, nothing.” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Because you don’t need to be jealous. If I wanted to spend my time with anyone else, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting as he straightened up and walked back to the bed like he hadn’t just casually wrecked you with one sentence. You looked away, crossing your arms as though to shield yourself from him. But he could still see the redness of your ears.
“Well….” you muttered under your breath, plopping dramatically onto your desk. “Now I’m jealous of myself.”
Kento paused mid-bite of a chip and turned to you with an amused look. “What was that?”
“Nothing!” you said quickly, sitting up straight like you hadn’t just been caught having an existential crisis.
But of course, Kento being Kento, he wasn’t about to let it slide. “No, no, go ahead.” he said, his smirk returning as he leaned back against the headboard. “Explain how you’re jealous of yourself. This, I have to hear.”
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Forget I said anything. It’s dumb.”
“I doubt that at all.” he replied, his tone annoyingly smug. “But fine, I’ll drop it. For now.”
You peeked at him through your fingers, only to find him watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something that made your heart flip all over again. You wanted to throw a pillow at him or maybe yourself—just to get rid of the growing warmth in your chest.
Instead, you grabbed the bag of chips from the desk and walked over to him, shoving it into his hands. “Here. Eat some of the snacks and stop psychoanalyzing me.”
“I wasn’t psychoanalyzing you.” he said, popping another chip into his mouth. “But you’re making it very tempting.”
“Unbelievable, Kento.” you muttered, plopping down onto the bed beside him. “This is why I can’t stand you sometimes, you know that?”
“Uh-huh.” He glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “So much so that you admitted to being jealous of people spending time with me. Makes perfect sense.”
You huffed, grabbing a handful of chips just to give your hands something to do. “Okay, fine, you got me. I was a little jealous. Big deal. You’re my best friend. It’s normal to feel weird about you hanging out with other people, right?”
“Is it?” he asked, his voice teasing but his eyes studying you closely.
“Yes!” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Because we’re close. And I don’t like sharing, okay? You’ve known that since we met!”
“Hmm, hmm.” he said thoughtfully, leaning a little closer. “So what you’re saying is, you want me all to yourself?”
You choked on your chip, coughing violently as Kento sat back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You—ugh! Don’t say things like that!”
“Why not? I’m just repeating what you said to me.” he replied innocently.
“That is not what I said!”
“Sounded like it to me.”
You glared at him, your face burning. “You’re the worst.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, smiling slightly. “But I’m your worst.”
And just like that, you were done for. Completely, utterly done for. You threw a pillow at him once again. Because what else could you do to him like that? He wasn’t wrong. Sure enough, he caught it effortlessly, laughing rather softly as he set it down beside him.
“Stop overthinking about it.” he said after a moment, his tone quieter now. “I’m here because I want to be. No one else matters, okay?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” he said simply, reaching into the chip bag again like he hadn’t just made your heart implode for the second time that evening.
And you sat there, staring at him like an idiot, thinking that maybe, just maybe, falling for him wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.
══════════════════
IT WAS ONE OF THE RARE OPPORTUNITIES WHERE YOU HAD A DAY OFF. So of course, you took the time to call Kento and ask him to hang out with you. And as usual, all he had said was that short, sure yes and nothing more.
He’d pick you up in thirty minutes, like usual. And of course, Nanami Kento was never late. If anything, he was always ten minutes early. He couldn’t have you waiting, after all.
The bar was warm and lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. You and Kento had decided to spend your day off together, and while the original plan had been something low-key like a café or a bookstore, somehow you’d ended up here, nursing a drink and trying to act normal around him. 
He’d never been here before, but he saw it from across the road and if the cafe or bookstore was closed — an afternoon at a bar wasn’t going to be a bad idea for college kids wanting to have some adventure beyond the campus walls.
Normal. Just normal. Yeah, act like you do. Well, whatever normal looks like to you now.
You could only mentally sigh as your peripheral was only stuck on him more than usual.
As if that was possible when you were utterly, hopelessly in love with the man sitting across from you.
Kento, of course, looked effortlessly composed, like he always did—leaning back in his seat, one hand resting on the table, the other holding his drink. He wasn’t a flashy guy, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made it impossible not to stare. And you were staring. Again.
“You’re staring at me again.” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.
“I am not!” you shot back, quickly taking a sip of your drink to cover up your flustered state.
“You’ve been doing it all evening.” he continued, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”
“No, no.” you muttered, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “I was just…zoning out. Thinking about…stuff.”
“Stuff. You sure….about stuff as an excuse?” he repeated, his tone skeptical.
“Yes, stuff.” you said firmly, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He chuckled softly, and you were both annoyed and utterly charmed by the sound. Why did he have to be so effortlessly perfect? It wasn’t fair. You hated how good he is at being everything you love. As you tried to regain your composure, a voice interrupted your thoughts. 
“Hey there, sweetie–pie.” a man said, sliding up to your table with a confident grin. “Mind if I join you?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh…”
Before you could say anything else, the man pulled up a chair and sat down, clearly not waiting for permission. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. You felt disgusted by the way he looked at you. He wasn’t your type at all. And moreover, he’s creepy as hell.
“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.” he said smoothly. “You’ve got a great smile.”
“Um, thanks?” you said awkwardly, glancing at Kento.
Kento’s expression didn’t change much, but there was a subtle shift in his posture. He sat up a little straighter, his jaw tightening just slightly. Kento’s eyes were glaring hard enough that you could find those eyes were blades cutting you whole.
“So, what’s your name?” the guy asked, ignoring Kento entirely.
You opened your mouth to answer, but Kento beat you to it. 
“She’s not interested in you.” he said flatly, his voice calm but with an edge that made the guy pause.
The man glanced at Kento, raising an eyebrow. “And you are?”
“Person she’s with.” Kento replied smoothly, though his tone made it clear that he wasn’t just a friend. “Who also happens to know she’s too polite to tell you to leave, so I’ll do it for her. What else are you waiting for? Leave.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Was Kento…jealous?
The man hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to push back, but something about Kento’s steady gaze seemed to make him think twice. With a shrug, he stood up. He wasn’t going to get anything out of you. Lest he wants to get bitten by a tiger waiting to eat him. Well, at least he’s smart about that.
“Alright, alright. No need to get territorial.” He winked at you before walking away.
You shuddered at his wink.
Have men always been weird?
You shake it off quickly, drinking your pint.
You turned to Kento, your cheeks burning. “Territorial? Really?”
Kento shrugged, taking a sip of his drink like nothing had happened. “He was bothering you. I handled it.”
“I could’ve handled it myself, you know.” you said, crossing your arms.
“I’m sure you could’ve.” he replied, setting his glass down. “But I didn’t feel like watching you pretend to be polite to someone who clearly couldn’t take a hint.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe.” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “But at least you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
You huffed, turning back to your drink. But as you took a sip, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kento’s gaze lingered on you, softer now, like he was trying to gauge your reaction. You drink your pint once again in some somber silence. 
“Was that really necessary?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Yes.” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You glanced at him, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again. “Why?”
Kento held your gaze for a long moment before replying. “Because I don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they can have what’s mine.”
Your brain short-circuited. “W-what?”
He didn’t elaborate, just leaned back in his chair with that same calm composure, as if he hadn’t just wrecked your entire evening with one casual sentence. You stared at him, utterly flustered and more in love than ever, wondering how on earth you were supposed to survive the rest of the night without completely losing your mind.
For the rest of the night, Kento didn’t let you out of his sight. He was subtle about it at first—the way he leaned in whenever someone walked by, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair. But as the minutes passed, it became glaringly obvious: Kento was on high alert, and every glance from a stranger only made his protective aura grow stronger.
When a group of guys walked by your table and one dared to look at you a second too long, Kento’s hand dropped from the chair to your shoulder, the weight of it warm and grounding. He didn’t even glance at the guy, his focus entirely on you, but the message was clear: Don’t even try it. Back off.
You tried to act normal, but it was impossible. Sitting beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you were acutely aware of every little thing about him—the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms, the way his voice dropped into a lower register whenever he spoke to you.
“You’re quiet again.” he said, his voice low as he leaned a fraction closer.
“I’m fine, Kento. Really.” you mumbled, staring into your drink to avoid looking at him.
“Liar.” he murmured, his tone edged with amusement. “You’ve been squirming all night.”
“I have not!” you protested, but the way your voice cracked didn’t help your case.
Kento just smirked, and that was the last straw. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Not alone, you’re not.” he said immediately, rising from his seat with an ease that made you want to throw something.
“What, are you my bodyguard now?” you snapped, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his possessive tone.
“If that’s what it takes, then yes.” he said simply, his gaze steady and unyielding.
Before you could argue, he took your hand—firm, unrelenting—and led you toward the exit.
“Kento, the bathroom’s that way.” you pointed out, trying to tug your hand free.
“We’re leaving.” he said without looking back.
“Wait, what? Why?”
“Because I’m done watching people think they can look at you like you’re up for grabs.” he said, his voice calm but with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.
Your protests died in your throat. Nanami Kento rarely raised his voice or lost his composure, but there was something in his tone now. It was something raw and unmistakable. And every bit of it just left you speechless.
The car ride was silent, tension thick in the air. When he pulled into a quiet, empty lot, he turned off the engine and finally looked at you. His gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you.
“Kento, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You.” he said, his tone low and rough. “You’re what’s going on. Do you have any idea how hard it is to sit there and pretend I’m okay with watching other people look at you like they have a chance?”
Your breath hitched. “I… I didn’t think you—”
“Didn’t think I’d care?” he interrupted, leaning closer. “Didn’t think I’d notice? God, you drive me insane, you know that?”
“Kento…”
“You’re mine.” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’ve always been mine. You always have been since we were kids. I just didn’t want to scare you off by saying it out loud again.”
Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “I— I….I know.” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I thought you wouldn’t say it again and I just…maybe with time passing… I thought I was the only one now.”
His lips curled into a dark, almost predatory smile. “You’re not. Never. Not when I’ve marked you since we met at that playground when we were kids.”
Before you could process his words, Kento leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was animalistic, it was wanton. It was full of possessiveness, claiming, as if he were branding the truth into you.
You matched his intensity, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, and any hesitation you’d felt earlier melted away, replaced by a burning need that had been building for far too long.
He broke away just long enough to murmur against your lips, “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute.
“You belong with me.”
You looked at him with your doe like eyes. “I belong with you.”
“Good.” he growled, pulling you into his lap without hesitation. His hands gripped your waist firmly, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “Because I’m done holding back.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you whispered, “Then don’t.”
And he didn’t.
══════════════════
YOU DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS HUNGRY FOR YOU. But with the way he’s going at it. Kento has been hungry for you for a very long time. Kento’s lips linger, soft and insistent, as if savoring every inch of your skin.
The warmth of his breath trails higher, leaving behind a delicate ache where his mouth was. His hands rest firmly on your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.
“You’re trembling.” he murmurs, his voice a rich baritone, teasing but laced with tenderness. He looks up, his gaze heavy with desire, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he speaks. “Do I make you nervous?”
A shaky laugh escapes your lips, betraying your composure. “Not nervous... just—” Your words cut off as he presses another kiss, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
“Just what?” he asks, his tone low and deliberate, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. His hands slide upward, thumbs drawing small circles that make your heart race.
“Kento.” you breathe his name like a plea, your voice catching as he moves closer, the space between you charged with electricity.
The dim glow of the streetlamp filters through the windshield, casting golden lines across his sharp features. The intimacy of the confined space amplifies every touch, every sound between the two of you in these leather seats. The soft rustle of fabric, the quiet hum of his breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh.
“I love when you say my name like that, you know?” he says, voice dark and velvety. His mouth moves with purpose now, leaving faint marks of love on your skin, each one deliberate, each one staking his claim. “I love hearing it like that. Wanton f’r me.”
You gasp, your head falling back against the car seat, fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently. He groans at the sensation, the sound sending heat coursing through you. How has he ever been this good at getting under your skin?
“I want to hear more from you.” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a mix of command and yearning. His lips hover for a moment, teasing you with their proximity. “But only if you’re ready.”
Kento’s lips trail higher, each kiss softer yet more possessive, leaving warmth that lingers long after his mouth moves on. He pauses for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as his hands tighten slightly on your thighs, his thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles.
“Don’t hold back your noises from me, okay?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sends a shiver racing through you. He looks up, his golden-brown eyes locking with yours, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I want to hear you clearly.”
The command in his tone makes your pulse quicken. You bite your lip, but the sound escapes anyway, a soft, breathy whimper that only seems to spur him on. Kento’s touch made you feel as though a thousand flames were burning all at once.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and he chuckles darkly when your hips shift involuntarily toward him.
“Kento.” you gasp, your voice trembling with both restraint and longing.
“Hm?” he hums against your skin, the vibration sending a jolt straight through you. “I told you—no holding back.” 
His hands glide upward, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth continues its slow, maddening journey lower and lower. You could feel your lips mutter a weak groan against him. 
The dim light of the streetlamp catches the sheen of his messy blond hair, illuminating the faint smile on his lips as he drinks in every reaction you give him. The intimacy of the moment wraps around you both, the world outside the car fading entirely.
“Kento, please.” you whisper, your voice raw with need, your fingers tightening in his hair.
He pauses, his lips hovering just above your skin, his breath ghosting over you. He takes in the sight of you, almost as though a hunter to a prey. Nanami Kento is your hunter, he always has been. And he’s been keeping this inside him for way too long. This desire, for you. Only you.
“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.” he murmurs, his tone dark and full of promise, before pressing another kiss, softer this time, but no less consuming.
Kento’s words hang in the air, thick with authority and desire, as his lips return to your skin with renewed purpose. He’s slow, methodical, as if every kiss, every graze of his teeth is a language only he can speak—and you’re utterly fluent in his meaning.
“Such sweet sounds from you, hm?” he murmurs against your thigh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through you. “Don’t hold them back from me. Let me hear what I do to you.”
Your breath hitches, a soft moan slipping past your lips, and the way his lips curl into a grin tells you he’s satisfied—but not done. His hands are firm but gentle as they slide further up your inner thighs, fingers brushing dangerously close to where you want him most. 
His touch sets your skin alight, the heat pooling low in your stomach as your chest rises and falls in uneven rhythm. You could feel his long fingers making their journey to that space, their cool touch melting you whole in a pleasurable moan.
“Kento.” you whisper, barely able to find your voice, your hands trembling as they clutch at the seat beneath you.
He glances up, his caramel eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlight streaming through the windshield, giving him an almost otherworldly allure. His gaze is dark, hungry, but there’s a softness there too. There was that endless reverence in the way he looks at you, as though you’re something precious.
“Yes, my love?” he asks, his voice laced with feigned innocence, though the smirk pulling at his lips betrays him. Your heart drummed at your new nickname from him. It was real. You were lovers. Doing what lovers do. “Tell me what you need. I want to hear it.”
You let out a shaky exhale, your fingers threading into the lower depths of sandy blond undercut for stability as much as desperation. Slowly, it trailed down on his neck, your touch sleuthing through him. Temptingly, almost like a wanting vixen.
“I need you… closer.” you admit, voice breaking, the vulnerability of the words making heat rise to your cheeks.
Kento hums in approval, the sound low and pleased at your words. He leans closer and his fingers echo deeper and deeper into you. Your head throws back hard against the leather’s pristine touch. He playfully moves inside. One moment in a circle. One moment a thrust. Over and over again, rinse and repeat, force and pleasure. And all you could do was surrender.
“Good girl of mine, my love.” he murmurs, his praise sending a wave of warmth coursing through you. 
That had surely made you even more wet inside. His lips press higher against your jaw, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He continues on and on. You don’t know where he learned it. How he got so good at knowing how to take you to paradise. BUt you could hardly care. You were focused on how deep his fingers were in you. 
“You’re so beautiful like this, my love.” he continues, his voice velvet against the charged air. His hands grip your thighs tighter, pulling them apart just enough for him to settle more firmly between them. “Completely undone for me.”
A sound escapes you, part moan, part plea, and his response is immediate. There was a broken groan deep in his chest as he nuzzled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your whole body tremble and shake as  he rushed more and more, in and out, with his masterful fingers.
“That’s it. Go on, my love.” he breathes, his voice dark, dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go for me, honey. No one else is here. Just us. Just me and the way you fall apart under my touch.”
The world outside the car feels impossibly distant now. The soft flicker of the streetlamp, the faint hum of passing cars. It’s all drowned out by the thrum of your heartbeat and the way Kento’s lips, and his fingers worship every part of you they touch, in and out.
“Kento, Kento.” you gasp again, your voice a desperate whisper.
His name on your lips seems to be his motivation, pushing more and more as his fingers tighten inside of you as he shifts closer, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming. You could only feel your tears rush in pleasurable waterfalls on your cheek.
“Say it again, my love.” he demands softly, his lips grazing the edge of your hip. “Say my name like that again.”
And when you do, your voice trembling and raw, and broken — he lets out a sound that’s pure need, his control slipping as he loses himself in you entirely. His fingers dug deeper and deeper until they couldn’t anymore. Your slick brushing through his fingers as he repeats it over and over again.
Kento’s name spills from your lips again, breathless and aching, and he growls softly against your skin. There was a sound that sent a ripple of heat straight to your core. You cry out loudly as you come undone on his touch, so hard that you see stars. 
“You’re trembling so much, my love.” he murmurs, his voice molten and rich. “Is it because of me, hm?”
His fingers slowly exit through your crevices, slick and full of you. He looks satisfied with the mess he made of you. It doesn’t matter if you pool your pleasure on his leather seats. The sight was satisfying to look at. Because you’re his. And this was proof.
Your answer is a shaky exhale, your head falling back against the seat as your hazy gaze saw him slowly eat at the slick of your pleasure. You had just come undone from his touch and now you could feel yourself wanting more. You were wanton for more. Only he could make you feel this way.
“Words in full, my love.” he coaxes, his tone teasing but firm. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes, Kento.” you admit, voice breaking as you finally surrender to his command. “It’s you—only you.It’s always been you.”
And with that, he kisses you as he finds himself wanting more of you, as much as you wanted more of him. You gave him everything, and he gave you everything. You wanted to be whole, consumed by the existence of the other.
The air thickens with desire as his touch shifts from lingering to deliberate, the rhythm between you growing more urgent.  You brace yourself, your body trembling in anticipation, and then, with a careful, controlled movement, he enters you. 
A sharp inhale catches in your throat, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. You gasp, every inch of him stretching you, pushing you to the edge of something deeper, something more consuming. Your body trembles in the wholeness of him. 
He began to move at a slow pace and then soon enough, with that eager speed. Your legs crossed against his back, and your arms crossed against his shoulders. You could only hold on for dear life as he pushes in and out of you in a pace that took your breath away.
Every inch of him stretches you, each motion slow yet intentional, designed to leave you breathless, wanting more. Kento’s gaze never leaves yours, intense and searching, as though he’s reading the unspoken desires written in the way your body responds. The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse quicken, your limbs aching with the need to surrender to him entirely.
Everything felt so good.
He made you feel good.
Only he could do it like this.
"Are you okay?" His voice is low, almost reverent, as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. 
There’s a softness in his caramel eyes, a tenderness beneath the storm of desire that mirrors the vulnerability you feel. His breath is heavy, and yet there’s a careful concern in his touch, as if he's trying to read you, to make sure you're ready for what comes next.
You nod, but words fail you, the overwhelming sensations clouding your ability to speak. Every inch of your being is attuned to him now, to the heat of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing. 
You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, yet all that fills your senses is him. The scent of him, the taste of his skin, the press of his chest against yours. Your slick blending against his own. It was all consuming. How you both fit together. How you were made for each other.
"More, Kento." you whisper, the word barely audible but laced with desperation. It’s not just a plea. No, you were saying it as it is. “Faster.”
You needed him. Every bit of him, every part of him. You wanted it all. The craving in your voice is clear, raw, and unfiltered. The desire that had been simmering between you both is now an undeniable force, impossible to resist.
His lips curl into a small, knowing smile, and something in his gaze shifts, darkens. Without breaking eye contact, he presses forward again, moving with an intensity that speaks of his own growing hunger. His movements are deliberate and calculated, even with the speed he was going at. 
It was as if  he was savoring every inch, every moment with you. Each stroke is measured, calculated, and yet there's an undercurrent of urgency, as though he's trying to pull you deeper into him, deeper into this shared space where only the two of you exist.
His gaze is intense, a silent communication passing between you both. It's not just about the way he moves or the way he touches you. Everything about it felt like magic. It's how he reads every subtle shift in your body, every small intake of breath, every whisper of need. 
He’s attuned to you in a way that goes beyond words, understanding the unspoken pleas you can't voice. It’s like he knows you better than you do yourself. It’s like he’s memorized every part of you. He just knew how to love you whole, completely.
You cried out as he hit that pleasure spot, in and out. The car windows were fogging up with the hot breath echoing out of your lips over and over again. You were certain that just as much, people had noticed the car shaking and rearing with activity at the stop. It was too obvious to see.
The heat between you builds steadily, a slow burn that makes your pulse race, that quickens the rhythm of your heart. You feel it in the way your body responds, how the pressure inside you grows with every shift, every stroke, until it feels like the world is narrowing down to just the two of you. You both were lost in this rhythm of connection, of craving, of surrender. This was all that there was, this universe of you, together.
Your body aches with the need to give in completely, to let him take you fully, to become lost in the feeling of him, of the shared moment. He looked at you and leaned forward, letting his lips take yours. His tongue pushes through against your own in a delicious melee of pleasure. You hummed against his lips as his thrusts got deeper, faster. More desperate. 
When he parts from you to gather air in his lungs, he slows for a bit and pulls out, earning a whine. But then in a steady shock, he pushes back in, his hands straying to your back, pulling you closer to him. It was as though he wanted you to melt and blend with his flesh. To become one. He thrusts deeper and deeper, harsher than before. You cry out against his ear. 
"Let go, my love." he murmurs, his voice a low, breathy whisper against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve got you." 
There’s an assurance in his words, a promise that you can surrender, that he’ll be there to catch you, to guide you through whatever comes next. And with those words, everything inside you snaps. The tension, the anticipation, the desire. 
Everything unravels in a wave of release, a deep, consuming surrender. You cry out so loud that you think that you were gasping for air for the first time. Nanami Kento hit on your body with a harsh desire last time and felt his own hot pleasure flow through you with a loud roar.
Your body trembles beneath his touch as you lose yourself in him, the rhythm of his movements pulling you deeper into the moment, into the raw intensity of it all. Your grip on him tightens involuntarily, fingers digging into the hardness of his skin, anchoring yourself to the sensation of him. 
Each breath comes quicker, more erratic, as you struggle to keep up with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your eyes flutter closed, and a few tears escape, blurring your vision. But the tears are not from pain. They are from the overwhelming satisfaction, the complete surrender of everything you’d been holding back.
For a moment, you can’t see anything, your body entirely consumed by the sensations coursing through you. It’s like you’ve been plunged into a haze, where nothing exists but the pulse of his touch, the heat of his body against yours. You feel your senses heighten, every movement, every sound reverberating inside you, making your heart race.
And then, slowly, your sight begins to return. Everything is foggy, distorted at first, the edges of the world softened by the force of your pleasure. But as the fog clears, everything sharpens, every detail comes into focus. 
And in that moment, it feels like you’ve stepped into something infinite. The universe itself is laid bare before you, and standing at the center of it all, consumed by the same overwhelming force, is him. Everything felt like enlightenment. Life started here.
Kento’s eyes are locked onto yours, dark and intense, holding you captive with every glance, every word unspoken. His face, usually so composed, is now etched with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction, his own breath coming in ragged pulls. You are drawn to him, to the way he fills every corner of your mind, your heart, your body.
"You're... breathtaking, my love." he murmurs, his voice rough, barely audible as he moves against you, his hands cradling your face gently. "So beautiful, at this moment."
The words make your heart ache, the vulnerability in his tone striking you deeply. Your gaze never wavers from his, even as the pleasure inside you begins to coil again, threatening to pull you under once more. It’s not just his touch, not just the way he moves inside you. It’s the way he sees you, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one who matters in the world.
"You’re mine. You always will be." you whisper, your voice trembling with the truth of it. The words come from somewhere deep, primal, raw. You don’t even know where they’ve come from, only that they’re true. 
“Am I really?” He snickers, pecking at your jaw with small peppering kisses with exhaustion.
You nodded shyly, smiling at him. "I need you... like this. Always."
Kento smiles at your confession. His grip tightens around you, his lips pressing against your forehead in a soft kiss, almost reverent. For a moment, it was like he’d fallen in love with you again for the very first time again.
"And you have me, my love." he responds, his voice low and full of promise. "All of me. Always."
4K notes ¡ View notes
isuckatwritingsobenice ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
Tumblr media
Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
4K notes ¡ View notes
ofourlee ¡ 3 months ago
Note
Hello hello! I love your work, can you write about megumi being so deeply in love with reader, like straight up head over heels for her, he makes everything about reader, reader is his first priority, he babies her, etc? 😊
i love this 💕
megumi x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
from being a dedicated listener, to going all out of his way just for you, megumi was just THAT boyfriend.
maybe it was the way he looks at you, the way he brushes a strand away from your face, or the way he memorizes every single detail about you.
he hadn’t planned on memorizing all your favorites, but somehow, he did.
he knew the exact way you took your coffee, the way you do your makeup, your likes, and your dislikes.
“i got you macarons. i hope it’s still your favorite, baby.” he says.
“thanks, how’d you know?”
“saw it in my notes.”
“notes?”
“notes about your favorites.”
it was the way he showed he loved you: a collection of tiny, thoughtful gestures.
you didn’t have to ask; he just knew.
somehow, that made you feel more seen, more loved, than any words ever could.
it was the way he would offer to peel your shrimps since you hated peeling it yourself,
or the way he would always cut your fruits, charge your phone, or brush your hair.
he would ALWAYS put you first.
when megumi orders takeout, he always chooses the place with your favorite dumplings, even if he’d been craving something else.
and whenever he talked about the future, he’d catch himself saying “we” without thinking—we’ll go here, we’ll try that.
to him, everything felt like it had a little more meaning, a little more life, with you in it.
sometimes, he’d crack jokes here and there;
“do you think this new lipstick suits me?” you ask him.
“very much, baby.”
“really? its smudge proof.”
“testing please.”
but there are also serious ones.
“i love you very much.” he says and you lay on his chest.
“i bet you say that to everyone.”
“i do tell everyone that i love you.”
he might be an imperturbable person, but in those quiet, unspoken moments, he realized—his world was no longer complete without you at its center.
825 notes ¡ View notes
starlightguh ¡ 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The Sharpest Tongue
Word count: 2,822
Summary: What if the stone Sylus won hadn't been the right one to send him and MC home to Linkon? As MC struggles to learn the local language, she finds herself the subject of the other warriors in the clan. Too bad it seems like Sylus has the sharper tongue amongst them all.
Tags: Cunnilingus, Grasslands AU, Jealous!Sylus
A/N: This is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I wanted to write something for the grasslands AU and saw someone mention we needed more jealousy grassland stories, so here you go! 100% transparency, I could not find anything on Talanian language, so I used Mongolian words, I'm not familiar with the language so if there are mistakes, I apologize!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Find this fic on Ao3 as well!
The Khan had given Sylus the bright red stone for his victory in the battle against the best warriors in the clan. My worries weren’t for nothing as there wasn’t any trace of meta flux emanating from it. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn’t resonate with it.
So we were stuck in the grasslands.
For someone who should have been happy due to our victory, both me and Sylus held somber faces around the celebratory fires and festivities. I could feel his red eyes staring at my downcast face as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“We’ll just keep searching kitten…As long as we’re together we can keep looking for a way to return home.”
I inhaled deeply and nodded silently as I turned to look at him, his expression was really soft and full of apology. I wanted to go home badly. But…Sylus had a point, wallowing won’t do anything. We’ll just make a plan to find a way back to Linkon.
I steeled myself by fixing my slouched posture and closing my eyes to take deep breaths. After a few moments I opened my eyes and smiled at Sylus, “Well I guess now is the time to embrace the nomad lifestyle…Until we find our way back home that is.”
Sylus stands, my eyes lingering on his distracting buff physique as he holds out his hand.
“Let’s not weep and try to make the most of our time together, hm? Shavanika.”
His baritone voice stirs an excitement in my belly as I take his hand and he begins to twirl me to the rhythm of the festive music the villagers are playing by the campfire. I feel the beads in my hair slap my cheeks as I spin around the orange hues of the warm flames near me. For a brief while as me and Sylus danced around the flames, my anxieties had drifted away. I was grateful to have him by my side and ease my worries.
My bare feet feel unsteady as I haphazardly try to follow the rhythm of an unfamiliar tune, but the warm and strong arms of the silver-haired warrior in front of me hold me steady. I smile and laugh at Sylus’ serious expression as we dance and lose ourselves to a night full of joy.
—————————
After the festival, we packed up and moved to travel alongside the rest of the villagers. Me and Sylus agreed we would adapt to our surroundings of the people around us as we tried to find any clues about a way home.
I was not the fastest learner, but I did get a few things down, the women taught me duties I was expected to help with, from herding livestock, sewing, cooking, and laundry, I was slowly earning my place amongst the others. However, I was struggling with learning the language. I could pick up a few words here and there, but I couldn’t really understand or communicate as properly as I would like.
Then there was Sylus, he was a polyglot so picking up the language wasn’t difficult for him. He must have been fluent only after a solid two weeks of study. I was envious, but also grateful since I relied on his help a lot to learn and understand.
The warriors happily accepted Sylus, he easily fit in and would help them with hunts for resources as well as military strategies and ideas. The Khan favored him a lot and Tara told me whispers of them wanting to promote Sylus to a general title.
While we hadn’t been traveling with our clan for more than a month, we easily slipped into our roles quickly. And now it seems we quickly have found ourselves involved in more politics than we would like.
It was like any other day, I was riding my cream-colored stallion through the grassy fields trying to get the flock of sheep on the right path. I called out the different sounds and commands I was taught while keeping a stead-fast pace on horseback.
My hunter's instincts kicked in as I noticed one sheep was away from the herd, and upon further investigation, it was being hunted by a hungry coyote.
“Shit,” I hissed to myself and acted quickly as I grabbed a rope from my satchel. As the coyote pounced, I lassoed it and used my strength to pull him away from the sheep.
I was heaving and sweaty as I just lifted the clueless sheep back to the herd. As I was getting back on my horse, I heard some whistles call out to me. I glanced around and noticed a group of four warriors walking up and cooing at me.
I didn’t really recognize them, I only knew they were of the same clan since their chest guards had the same color ropes that Sylus wore. The men spoke to me in Talanian, but I could only pick out words like ‘strong’ and ‘brave.’
“I uh…am not familiar with the language yet, chlaarai .”
They seemed to just smile as one made a comment to the group in Talanian, they laughed and just waved goodbye toward me as they rode off.
I didn’t think much of this encounter until the next day.
We had set up camps deep in the Northern Grasslands, orange was taking over the skies as the dawn broke. I was hanging clothes I had just washed in the river on a clothesline outside one of the elder's yurts.
Behind me I heard the sharp tongue of Talanian, I glanced and noted those same big warriors from the other day were talking. I had paid them no mind as I did my duties.
Suddenly I heard the sharp thuds of angry footsteps behind me and a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I glanced up and saw a very pissed-off Sylus glaring off in the direction of the four other men.
He yelled at them in Talanian and growled when the other men responded in what I could only assume was a taunt. Sylus let go of my waist and marched up to one of the men and grabbed him by his leathers. People started to gather to watch the rowdy commotion.
I turned and saw Tarna and sighed in relief since she could explain what was going on, “Hey, Tarna….What exactly is happening?” I asked her urgently as it sounded like the men were raising their voices.
“Well…It seems the Khan’s second son Gansu said something about your er….” She paused and looked shy when translating what was said, “birthing hips, and how he wanted you as a wife to bear his children.”
I stood frozen as it all clicked into place. I looked over at Sylus who was still arguing with them, a scowl marred on his face.
“Sylus came in and said they shouldn’t speak about you that way that you were his beloved. Gansu told him that it didn’t matter to him unless you two were wedded or you were pregnant.”
“Seriously?!? If he’s the son of a Khan he can marry whoever he wants. Why would he want me?”
Tarna shook her head at me, “That’s why Sylus is arguing, he says that you are with him and will never have anyone else’s children.”
The arrogant Gansu held a smirk as he practically hissed at Sylus, a dark expression glazed over Sylus’ face. I’ve only ever caught glimpses of Sylus angry, but never this murderous.
“What did he say?” I asked Tarna, my voice full of worry. I could feel the icy chill of Sylus’ anger even from a distance.
“Gansu just said ‘well whoever takes it keeps it’ as a threat… I think you should go over and stop Sylus, if he gets in a fight with the Khan’s son they could severely punish him,” Tarna warned me.
I nodded and without a second thought, I ran up behind Sylus and gently placed my hand on his lower back. His tense body seemed to ease up a bit at my touch as I tried my hardest to speak in Talanian.
“ Amarkhan bai….S-Shavanika …” Fight not, beloved . These were the only words I could best make out with my limited knowledge.
Silently he grabbed my hand and glared down Gansu as he turned to walk away with me. I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Gansu and his men still taunted behind us. We began walking off towards our yurt and it wasn’t until we were a safe distance away I had to whimper to Sylus.
“Your grip is too tight it hurts,” I cried.
He seemed to snap out of his trance and he softened his grip and rubbed his large thumb soothingly across my hand, “Sorry sweetie… I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“I don’t exactly know what was said, but Tarna translated some of what you guys were saying. I didn’t realize the Khan’s son and his friends saw me herding sheep yesterday.”
“The Talanian language is very harsh, most of the words are very direct. The disgusting words from the Khan’s second son really got under my skin is all… Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him yesterday?”
“I didn’t think it was important… Also, I hardly saw you yesterday,” I sigh, “You came back to our tent pretty late… Are you sure you weren’t up practicing Talanian with the other village girls?” I hiss a bit. While the Khan’s son may be chasing my skirts, I can’t ignore the fact that all the girls of the village have been trying their hardest to catch Sylus’ eye.
Sylus stopped in his tracks and growled he turned to me and looked down with a sharp gaze, “How many times do I need to express to you I’m not interested in the other village girls?”
I match his glare and put my hands on my hips, “And how many times do I have to tell you I can handle myself, the Khan’s son doesn’t scare me. I’ll just refuse him.”
Sylus tsked his lips and leaned down to lift me up on his shoulder.
“Hey! Put me down!”
“No. It seems like I need to practice Talanian with the only village girl who matters to me,” he says sharply. He gives my butt a playful smack as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, my face in the direction of his backside.
I smack his butt back and he just chuckles, “You’re not getting out of this one Shavanika, so simmer down kitten.”
When he strutted into our tiny little yurt and set me down, his red eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and mischief. His hand remained on my waist as he spoke in a low and seductive tone.
My back arched at the feeling of his hands trailing down my waist and gathering my skirts up in his large rough palms. He set his other palm in the dip on my hip as he stared at me with almost an appraising look in his eye. “Let’s start with the lesson…What did that man call these?”
His left dominant hand was under my skirt caressing my thigh, I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes and tried to remember the foreign words spoken earlier.
“T-Toro? Kha-?” I sputtered out as his palm found its way to one of my bare-asscheeks. He squeezed it and tsked his lips as he brought his face closer to mine and he spoke lowly.
“Torkah Khongo,” the purr in his voice did nothing but further my arousal. I was being engulfed by the dominant energy Sylus was putting out. It didn’t take very much for me to become putty in his strong hands.
His other hand reached under my skirt as well and without further notice, the lengthy skirt that usually met my ankles were now scrunched up at my waist. Underwear wasn’t a common thing within the tribe, so I had been forced to forgo that luxury and be commando under my lengthy traditional clothing. I think for a situation such as a lustful Sylus, it was beneficial to be as naked as possible.
“Do you know what the translation is?” He quirked a brow.
“B-Birthing Hips?”
“Mhmm,” there was a slight growl to his response, “he said that you had the birthing hips to bear him many sons.” Sylus gripped my hips in a tightening grip. “Too bad for him these hips are miniikh.”
Sylus dropped to his knees in a squat as his mouth bit a part of my inner thigh, his hands rubbing the bare skin before him. “Do you know the translation?”
His mouth placed hot and wet kisses in my inner thigh, teasing me by being so close to where I actually wanted his mouth. I gasped out an answer as he was torturing me with kisses, “M-Mine?”
“Good girl, seems like you do know more than I thought,” he whispers breathlessly, “Let me reward you.”
He then licked my dripping slit, I let out a whimper in surprise.
“Tell me, who do these hips belong to?” He asked as he pulled away from licking my heat.
“Y-You.”
He smacked my thigh at my answer, “Ah-Ah-Ah, in Talanian sweetie.”
“ Ta,” I moaned out as he suckled on my sensitive pearl.
With a pop of his lips, he pulled away and smirked, “Hmm that’s a good answer, but I have a better one. Repeat after me: Nökhör .”
The pronunciation of the word feels strange as I try my best to repeat it, “noct-core?”
Sylus just shakes his head and repeats it slower for me, when I finally pronounce it right he rewards me by entering one of his fingers into my dripping center.
“Keep saying it sweetie, practice makes perfect,” he chuckles and his mouth finds my center again as he slowly devours me.
With his finger slowly pumping me and his greedy tongue flickering on my sensitive folds, my voice is nothing but a loud and needy whine of this new word he’s taught me and I haven’t a clue what it means. All I know is Sylus likes it as he happily groans into my dripping cunt.
“Louder. I want the whole tribe to hear you scream it, so everyone knows we belong to each other and no one else,” his lower face is dripping in my essence and his red eyes have a bit of a manic and desperate look as I look down on him.
“Sylus….” I lose my mind as he now has three fingers in me and the mouth of a sinner as he loudly slurps at my folds with his sharp tongue.
Ecstasy and euphoria wash over me as I come on his face with that new and unfamiliar word on my tongue. My knees shake and nearly give out, but Sylus stands and lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around his middle.
I lean my head forward as I pant into his ear, “What’s the translation of that word.”
He laughs as he rubs my back while I come down from my high, “Why, it’s my future title…It means ‘husband.’”
“Sylus! How bold of you to assume!”
He frowned at this and glared at me, “I'm not assuming anything, but unless you want to be the wife of the Khan’s son, then you must be mine…I can’t protect you from the leaders otherwise.”
I blush, “I-It’s just so embarrassing….I never thought about marriage.”
He smirks a bit, “Well I'm glad I can change your mind, at least while we’re here. Linkon has a very different culture from the grasslands, and we can talk about a proper marriage when we return home. Deal?”
“Fine but you’re not knocking me up while I'm here,” I huff at him as he lays me down on our pelts and strips off the rest of his clothes.
“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. You’re just too tempting, Shavanika.”
“Only for you my Nökhör.”
That night Sylus made me scream so loud that the Khan’s son did nothing but glare daggers as Sylus confidently walked through the village the next day I, on the other hand, was forced to stay in bed due to my wobbly knees. When I finally returned to my duties after a day's rest, the other girls just giggled as they saw me.
Tarna translated a message for me that the elders are happy for whatever blessings me and Sylus marriage may bring, but to keep it to ourselves at night. I was horrified and embarrassed, while Sylus walked around as the proud warrior both in the grasslands and in the bedroom.
The strongest warrior and the sharpest tongue will always come out on top I suppose.
~fin~
Translation guide:
Shavanika - Beloved
Chlaarai - Sorry
Amarkhan bai - Fight not
Torkah Khongo - Birthing Hips
Miniikh - Mine
Ta - You
NĂśkhĂśr - Husband
483 notes ¡ View notes
mellowyellow236 ¡ 4 months ago
Text
The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!
All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.
Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :) All are under the cut.
NRC:
Heartslabyul:  
Riddle Rosehearts - 
My dearest rose, 
You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 
Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 
Yours Truly, 
Riddle Rosehearts 
Trey Clover - 
Prefect, 
Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 
From, 
Trey. 
Cater Diamond - 
Prefect, 
Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 
Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 
- Cay-cay ♦️  
Ace Trapolla - 
Prefect!! 
I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 
Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 
See ya, 
Ace 
Deuce Spade - 
Dear Prefect, 
Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 
I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 
From, 
Duece 
Savanaclaw: 
Leona Kingscholar - 
Herbivore, 
Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 
I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 
- Leona 
Ruggie Bucchi - 
Hiya, Prefect... 
I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 
Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 
If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.
- Ruggie 
Jack Howl - 
Dear Prefect, 
Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 
From, 
Jack 
Octavinelle: 
Azul Ashengrotto - 
My Pearl, 
Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 
With Love, 
Azul Ashengrotto 
Jade Leech - 
Dearest Prefect, 
It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 
Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.
Kind Regards, 
Jade Leech 
Floyd Leech - 
Shrimpy!!!!!! 
You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 
I’m going to squeeze you. 
🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 
🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 
I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 
- Floyd <3333333 
Scarabia: 
Kalim Al-Asim - 
Hello!!!!
I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 
Hugs and kisses, 
Kalim Al-Asim 
P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!
Jamil Viper - 
Dear Prefect,
Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 
See you later, 
Jamil Viper
Pomefiore: 
Vil Schoenheit - 
My Dearest Potato, 
I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 
I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 
I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 
Sincerely, 
Vil Schoenheit 
Rook Hunt - 
Trickster, 
Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 
Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 
Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 
Le Chasseur D'Armour 
Epel Felmeir - 
Prefect, 
I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 
Epel 
Ignihyde: 
Idia Shroud - 
Prefect, 
Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 
Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 
- Gloomurai 
Ortho Shroud - 
Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 
♡✧( •⌄• ) 
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 
•ω• 
ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 
I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 
Sent To: [email protected] 
Date: XX/XX/XXXX 
Return Email: [email protected] 
Diasomnia: 
Malleus Dracona - 
My Dearest Child Of Man, 
If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 
Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 
The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 
Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 
Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 
Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)
Beastie, 
Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 
But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 
xoxo, 
Lilia 
Silver “Vanrouge” - 
Dear Prefect, 
I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 
Best Wishes, 
Silver 
Sebek Zigvolt - 
HUMAN! 
I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 
Sincerely, 
Sebek Zigvolt  
RSA+NBC: 
Che’nya - 
Prefect... 
When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 
Kitty Kisses, 
Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 
Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)
My Dearest, 
Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 
Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 
Love, 
Neige Leblanche 
Rollo Flamme -
Mon Amour, 
There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 
I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 
I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 
Bonus: 
Checka Kingscholar - 
To Perfect, 
Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•
496 notes ¡ View notes
lxdymoon0357 ¡ 5 months ago
Note
Hello 🤗 can I please request yandere Claude headcanons from wmmap with a female reader who is a mediocre witch and isn't as powerful as him? And she also works as a maid in his castle. Thank you ☺️❤️
Š Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.
Tumblr media
Yandere!Claude X Witch!Reader HCs
Tumblr media
☯ Okay, so you probably worked as a maid at the palace, often using your minor magical abilities in helping you clean and stuff. You were possibly friends with Lily and maybe cared for either Athanasia or Jeanette, because that's how he came to know you.
☯ You reminded him some way of Diana and so he got intrigued and more curious and soon he became obsessed with you, how you were so gorgeous...maybe even more gorgeous than Diana...He simply couldn't get it in himself to look away from you..
☯ Had Athy, Lily and Felix get close to you as much as possible, until he got a bit close to you as friends, once could say...you won't ever realize how you walk right into his palm. Not like Lily, Felix or Athy can go against Claude, definitely not...It's not that they want to, they just won't...too much work in their opinion..
☯ Often he'd have you use our magic less and less to the point you started to forget how it felt using it...who knew it would end with you locked in a room for hours on end?
☯ Claude refuses to let anyone see you, sometimes not even Lily or Felix, they have to walk in with blindfolds and work for you and they are guided by Claude, he's not cruel enough to punish them, he knows he's having them blindfolded and so mistakes are bound to happen.
☯ But mistakes are absolute refusal in his opinion, even Athy isn't allowed to make many mistakes infront of you, it goes a bit too the point, he adores you more than he adores Athy, but he feels bad for that. You and Diana wouldn't want him to neglect her and so he does spend time with her separately.
☯ Claude has taken away most of the freedom, which freedom of privacy, no privacy with him, he baths you, he feeds you, he picks out your clothes, etc. Nothing in his opinion is safe enough, ever since Diana, he's gotten more paranoid about it.
☯ Definitely pulls string to make sure you can't use your magic, maybe Athy got Lucas to do it..Maybe Claude got some low level criminal wizard to do it to forgive a bit of his sentence? Whatever it may be, you won't use your magic, no matter how strong or how mediocre..
☯ Will kill any maid or butler who you don't like...or ANYONE you don't like, infact, pulling strings to accuse them of various serious crimes. He can blame someone for treason, someone for murder, someone for crimes against royalty and stuff, he's not afraid.
468 notes ¡ View notes
anneapocalypse ¡ 6 months ago
Text
I cannot help feeling like the tendency to see Inquisition!Leliana in stark contrast to Origins!Leliana has led to some people forgetting what... Leliana is actually like in Origins.
In fairness, as in all Dragon Age games some very revealing character moments happen in party banter which makes it easy to miss. But the gentle-hearted mystic who desires only to draw others unto the love of the Maker has never been all that Leliana is, and it's always been in direct conflict with the side of her that is not only adept at intrigue and yes, violence, but enjoys those things. This is the central conflict of her whole character, and it's not a trivial conflict, because there is not one simple answer to who Leliana truly is. She is both of these things. She is deeply religious and finds comfort in her faith, and thinks it should bring comfort to others as well. She's also prone to gossip and pettiness and all the qualities that helped her thrive as a bard.
There's this one particularly revealing piece of banter with Alistair if the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan:
Alistair: So have you heard? Morrigan and him are... you know. Leliana: Have you nothing better to do than to spread idle gossip? And besides, he can probably hear us both. You're not being very discreet. Alistair: No, look, he's not even paying attention. Leliana: Hmmm. maybe. You don't... think that he's serious about it, do you? The woman is a vile fiend. Alistair: Well, look here, now who's an idle gossip? Me-ow! Leliana: You're the one who started this, I might remind you. And I'm... well, I'm ending it!
I once had the especially entertaining experience of getting this banter, and minutes later hearing Leliana turn to Morrigan to give her the "It's so nice that you're together, isn't love wonderful?" line. But whether or not you have the pleasure of hearing them back to back, I think this dialogue make it pretty clear that while Leliana would like not to think of herself as a gossip, it takes very little prompting from Alistair to get her to slip back into that mean girl persona. And Alistair (who is more perceptive than he often gets credit for), calls her on it immediately, clearly embarrassing Leliana--who realizes that her mask has slipped.
I don't think it follows from this that Leliana necessarily hates Morrigan unilaterally. There's something much more complex going on between them, in my opinion, because they are such distinct opposites in upbringing and personality. Both Leliana's faith and her life of courtly intrigue are nonsense to Morrigan, who neither believes in the Maker nor has much patience for intricate social graces (at least, not yet). Meanwhile, I think Morrigan's outward self-possession and the sense of power she exudes is a source of both fascination and frustration for Leliana, who thinks she understands power, both social and divine--but finds in Morrigan a kind she cannot fully comprehend. (I also think you can definitely feel some sexual tension into their banter, especially the much-beloved banter about the velvet dress.) Ultimately, both of them are very concerned with power, but approach that concept very differently. And Leliana responds to this clash of ideals in a particular way because her own self-image is so conflicted.
As all great Dragon Age foils do, Leliana and Morrigan needle one another, push each other's buttons, challenge one another's sense of self, and in doing so reveal one another in their complexity and sometimes in their ugliness. It is perhaps easy to write this off as the tired trope of women being unable to get along with one another, or conversely to claim that they get along just fine and fandom has fabricated the tensions between them; I think to do either of those things diminishes a genuinely complex and sticky relationship that serves to reveal a lot about both characters.
572 notes ¡ View notes
notreallythatlost ¡ 3 months ago
Text
IF YOU BLED
➴ halbrand/sauron x female!elf!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: you fell in love with halbrand because he was everything you ever wanted. but you didn't know who he really was. not until now.
warnings: angst, reader gets disappointed (i mean it’s sauron??) but wants to give in to the darkness
word count: 1.4k
note: here i am, writing another fic about our beloved dark lord. i listened to a song y’all might know and let myself just go with it. this is how it turned out and i really hope you like it. xx ps: there’s a second part. 🙂‍↔️
inspired by: this song
THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
You already knew that you would fall deeply in love with him when you first saw him.
He was beautiful.
His soft lips and his hands that felt so perfect in yours. And there were these little wrinkles that formed at the edges of his eyes whenever he smiled.
But it was his green eyes that managed to cast a spell on you. They were so deep that it seemed almost impossible to ever let go again.
With each passing day, you could see more in him. The lost king who would never stop fighting until his last breath. With every second, you began to understand him more and fell in love with the idea that he could save you. From the pain that had happened to you in your past and the pain that would await you in the future.
You always felt a little less broken by his side.
And when Galadriel found out who he really was, everything you should feel was contempt. But you could never hate him. It was too late for that.
There was only the pain of not telling you the truth himself. All he had said to you was an illusion for what you had most desired. It had never been real.
“Have you been listening to me?” Galadriel’s voice tears you away from your thoughts. “Halbrand is not who you thought he was! He deceived you, he deceived us all,” she says and waits for your reaction. But all you can do is to look at her.
Memories started to play before your inner eyes. Of what had happened and dreams of what you wished would happen.
Above all, Halbrand, who touched you in a way that no one ever had before. In every possible way.
You can still feel his warm breath on your skin and his fingers gently stroking the fabric of the dress on your hip while he stands behind you.
His voice, just a gentle breath in your ear and the goosebumps it causes on your body.
His promise to take away the darkness inside you.
His lips gently dancing over your neck and making you sigh.
And the following kiss that set everything inside you ablaze. The harbinger of a fire that could burn down all of Middle Earth.
“No…” the word comes out in a whisper and you shake your head as a tear runs down your cheek.
Before Galadriel can say anything else, you turn away from her and leave the room to run up the steps of the tower to the top where the forge is located.
Your eyes immediately fall on Celebrimbor, who is looking down at something with a smile. Elrond is standing next to him and looks less thrilled, his gaze first on you, then back to the stone table.
You step closer and now you can understand why Elrond's gaze is so serious.
There were three rings lying there, each one more beautiful than the other. You are drawn to them as if by magic, you can no longer look away.
“They are... beautiful.” You slowly stretch out your hand, wanting to touch one of them, when Elrond clears his throat.
Your gaze wanders upwards and you see him shaking his head. It was a silent warning which makes you lower your hand again.
Galadriel slowly enters the forge behind you and also comes closer. “I can't believe it actually worked,” you hear her say, but your attention remains on the rings.
They sparkle in the light of the slowly setting sun and remind you of the glow in his eyes.
You hear Galadriel and Elrond talking to each other, but you don't understand them. It was if they were far away from you. All you can think about is Halbrand and the pain he left behind in you. As well as the never ending longing in your heart.
The desire to finally surrender to the darkness, now that it threatens to devour you from all sides.
Only when your name is mentioned and Galadriel puts her hand on your arm, you are torn from your thoughts.
You pull away from her touch, shaking your head and you see the pain in her eyes. But you don’t care about it, just as she doesn’t seem to care about yours.
“I... have to go. Don't try to stop me,” you say quietly and look one last time at Elrond and Celebrimbor, who are both frowning worriedly, then you turn around and run down the stairs again.
You don’t see that Galadriel tries to follow you, but Elrond stops her. He seems to know, that you needed to be alone now.
When you get downstairs, you hurry through the hall that is still lit by the last rays of the sun. You wanted to get away from there as far as possible.
But you stop at the sound of a voice. It is his voice, no doubt about it. You slowly turn around as he steps out from behind a pillar.
He looks different than the last time you saw him, but still so beautiful. Your gazes meet and it takes your breath away, just like always.
All you can do is to watch, as he comes closer. But when he holds out his hand to you, you flinch away.
He immediately frowns until he seems to understand and a certain hardness flashes in his eyes. “So Galadriel told you?” he asks.
You nod slowly and look him in the eyes to find out what he must be feeling, but he doesn't let you in.
“You should have told me yourself, Halbrand,” you begin, looking him dead in the eyes. “Oh wait, that is not your name, right?”, you add, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
But no matter how strong your disappointment is, you know, that you could never escape his darkness. Not now that you know, that this darkness also lives in you. Not when he holds your heart in his hands.
Halbrand holds your gaze and takes another step towards you. This time you don't back away. Not even when he carefully separates your arms. “And what would it have changed if you had known?” he asks with a rough voice and looks down at you.
“It would have simply changed everything. Because you would have never deceived me like you did,” you answer and you can hear your own desperation in your voice. “All of that was an illusion of what I always wanted. And you used that against me. You used me. It was all a lie,” you add with a whisper and you can't hold back another tear.
Halbrand raises one of his hands to your face and catches the tear with his thumb. He smears it on your skin as he strokes your cheek, watching as it glistens in the sunlight.
He looks at you with a gentle gaze, even a little desperate. As if your words touch him deeply.
As suddenly footsteps sound behind you, he gently pulls you into the shadows, the part of the hall that is no longer lit by the sun.
You feel the cold stone wall at your back and resist the urge to lean into his touch.
“You're wrong,” Halbrand finally says and you look him in the eyes again. “I never lied to you. I was just not completely honest about one thing...” he pauses and slowly moves his face closer to you. “I never intended to take the darkness from you. I wanted you to surrender to it,” he finally breathes against your lips and you close your eyes.
His arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you closer to his body. “I wanted you to surrender to me,” he adds, his mouth now on your ear.
You can't help but shiver as his breath brushes over your neck, causing goosebumps on your body. But instead of kissing you there, he pulls away from you again and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“As much as I would like you to do it right now, this is not the right time,” Halbrand whispers and you begin to understand.
“You're not really here, am I right?” Just then you notice the blood on the right corner of his mouth. It hadn't been there before.
Suddenly he seems completely different, as if he was dropping his facade. His face is dirty and his clothes have seen better days too. You put your hand gently on his cheek and caress the blood with your thumb.
“What has happened? Where are you?” you ask quietly and raise your gaze to look into his eyes, but there is secrecy in them. He wouldn't tell you.
“Please, Halbrand, tell me where you are. Let me come to you,” you say, but he shakes his head and takes your face between his hands.
The look in his eyes leaves no room for protest and you know you wouldn’t resist him. You never could.
“No. You will stay in Eregion. I will find my way back to you, i promise.” Those are the last words you hear, then you find yourself alone in the hall again, surrounded by complete darkness.
And you are more than ready to drown in it.
Tumblr media
PART TWO
336 notes ¡ View notes
justauthoring ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
GENSHIN IMPACT - WHO DID THIS TO YOU?
includes: kaveh, diluc, alhaitham & childe all x fem!reader
a/n: i couldn't decide who to write for between these four so i did all of them :)
warnings: asshole boss in kaveh's, asshole stairs in dilucs, (not a) asshole cat in alhaithams and assholes (plural) in childes :) also not spell checked!
Kaveh:
You try to sneak in without being noticed, but it seems the fates are against you.
The door squeaks loudly the second you push it shut, a grimace falling on your face as you let out a soft curse. There's instantly a distinct sound of footsteps heading your way, so you give up trying to be quiet and let the door slam shut behind you.
Not without childishly sticking your tongue out at the inanimate object though.
"Darling?" Kaveh's voice carries through the house, soft and light with that twinge of warmth that's always there when kaveh is speaking to you. "Are you home?"
You brace yourself mentally for what's about to happen, back turned towards kaveh as he reaches the entrance.
You can feel his eyes on you and his growing presence as he steps towards you, still oblivious to anyhting wrong as his hand falls on your shoulder.
"Y/N? Is everything okay—"
With a gentle tug, he turns you to face him. not one to ever be able to deny kaveh of anything, you easily let him maneuver you, meeting his eyes apprehensively as you try to attempt to smile up at him.
His face instantly falls. "What's wrong?" He rushes, hands reaching for your cheeks where he cups them, gently, brushing the stray tears from your eyes as he takes in your puffy, red eyes and paled complexion.
You wrap your hands around his wrists; "nothing, Kaveh," you assure gently, finally finding your voice. It's still hoarse from the crying you'd been doing before, cracking at the end which mentally makes you wince. "Just a rough day."
"Did something happen?" He rushes to ask, shaking his head. "Did someone do something to you?"
You swore to yourself you wouldn't tell Kaveh – it wasn't that you didn't trust him, but when it came to anything concerning you, Kaveh tended to get overly protective. It was endearing, honestly, but you didn't want to dump all your problems on him. Especially something as silly as this.
At least, that was the plan. The second Kaveh asks if someone upset you, you're reminded of events that happened just minutes prior and kaveh's always been good at understanding you without you even having to say anything.
Your face twists, just faintly, and Kaveh's eyes harden.
"Who?" He asks, voice uncharacteristically low and sharp. "Who did this to you?"
"Kaveh—"
"Y/N," he cuts in, not leaving any room for you to argue. It stuns you, pulling your eyes on him with a blink as you take in the serious expression in his eyes. "What happened?"
So, you explain. you explain how awful work had been that day – how your boss had had it out for you all day, berating you and borderline harrassing you. How you'd tried to be strong and not let him see how much his actions and words were effecting you, but you'd ended up leaving work early because it all became too much.
By the end of it you're a sobbing mess once more, incoherent and deeply upset.
Kaveh holds you through it, brushing your tears and rubbing your back and not once interrupting you or making you feel silly for how upset you'd gotten.
You ask him not to do anything, especially because it seems it's taking everything from Kaveh not to – and he promises, says that he won't and instead gently shushing you with the promise that he'll get you a hot bath and some dinner and the two of you can spend the night together doing what you want.
And he means it. Kaveh won't do anything.
Tonight, at least.
Diluc:
"M-Master Diluc!"
The distressed voice of one of his maids gives Diluc pause, halting in front of the door to his home only to see Adelinde rushing towards him. There's a wild, panicked look on her face and instantly Diluc is turning towards her.
"What's happened?" He asks, "are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine," she breathes, out of breath from racing down the stairs the second she'd heard Diluc making his way in. "It's Mistress Y/N!"
That's all Diluc needs to hear. Adelinde lips part to explain more, but before she can even get a word out, Diluc is already at the top of the stairs and quickly making his way to your shared room. There's the distinct feeling of his heart racing madly with worry against his chest and Diluc's vision closes around him, focused on only you, until he finally reaches you.
You're sat in the bed, propped up by a couple of pillows but Diluc's attention is quickly shifted to your leg; more specifically, your ankle. It's wrapped up in bandages and propped up by a few more pillows.
The second you meet Diluc's eyes, you're sighing; "honestly, Diluc, I'm—"
Diluc is beside you in seconds.
"Who did this to you?"
The question is uttered with a sharp, dark tone and you blink, lips left parted as Diluc reaches for you. His heart is still poundly madly against his chest and it physically pains him to see you in any sort of discomfort or pain.
The only logical thing he can thing is that someone hurt you. One of his enemies, maybe... Diluc was careful about keeping his life private, especially when it concerned you, but he supposed villains had their ways and he absolutely crushes his heart to think you'd been attacked because of him—
He's pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of your hand in his, your fingers threading through his own as you squeeze reassuringly.
"Diluc, honey," you call softly, a smile on your lips that confused Diluc. "No one did anything to me."
Frowning, Diluc eyes your ankle and then meets your gaze. "Then...?"
"I tripped," you explain with a slight flush, obviously embarrassed by your own clumsiness. "I was helping Adelinde with something when I tripped over my own feet. We were walking down the steps so I sort of tumbled down... I think I sprained my ankle. I told Adelinde not to bother you with it because really, I'm fine."
Diluc hesitates; "no one hurt you?"
"No one," you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I promise."
Relieved, Diluc feels his body ease at the assurance that you weren't attacked. Still, he sees your wrapped up ankle and frowns. "Still," he calls out a moment later. "You're hurt."
"A little," you shrug, glancing at your ankle. "The throbbing has stopped. I just can't walk."
"Then I'll carry you."
You let out a soft giggle that flutters Diluc's heart; "I don't need to go anywhere."
"When you do."
Alhaitham:
"Who did this to you?"
You're surprised by how angry Alhaitham sounds. A quick glance in his direction tells you he looks just as angry, and you have to pause for a moment, trying to think about just what the hell he was talking about.
Conclusion? You have no idea.
He's looking straight at you — practically burning a hole through you with his glare. But you have no idea what he's staring at.
"Haitham..." You mumble apprehensively, baffled. "Who did what to me?"
"That," he presses, stepping towards you and nodding.
Just... nodding.
"What?" You ask, exasperated as you try to glance at yourself and see just what Alhaitham is talking about.
Huffing, short of patience as always, Alhatham grabs you by the wrist, grip gentle but pressing as he shifts so your palm is upwards. Then, his thumb swips lightly across a long, red and somewhat angry scratch across your inner forearm.
"That," he repeats, frowning at you.
"Oh," you calls with a laugh, stunned for a brief moment before a smile curls onto yourself. "I found a stray cat yesterday on my way home. It looked hungry so I fed it and then, I thought that it deserved a home so I tried to take it with me..." You grimace faintly, rubbing the back of your neck bashfully. "The little guy didn't seem to like that idea as much."
You expect Alhaitham to... well, not laugh, because he rarily did that, but you expect him to at least ease somewhat. But he doesn't. The frown remains heavy on his face, eyes set into a nasty glare as he stares at the scratch.
"Where?"
"Hmm?" You call, raising a brow as you meet his eys.
"Where was this cat?"
There's something about the way he asks it that makes you hesitate. "...Why?"
Alhaitham just lets your hand go, huffing as he crosses his arms across his chest. "So I can teach it a lesson for hurting you."
He says it so seriously because it's Alhaitham, but it's still the most ridiculous statement you've ever heard so the laugh that bursts out of your lips is truthfully beyond your control.
"Haitham!" You giggle, "it's a cat!"
"And?" He raises a brow, looking at you like you're the crazy one. "The cat hurt you. That's not okay."
You bite your lip, holding back your laughs as you take in how serious Alhaitham is — he looks genuinely bothered and upset that you were hurt. And honestly, despite the fact that his anger was now directed towards a random stray cat, is care for you is endearing.
Stepping towards him, you press a kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you for defending me," you say genuinely. "But it's just a cat. I shouldn't have tried to pick it up."
Alhaitham frowns and it looks like he wants to argue, but he lets it go. "Fine," he says, "but if you see the cat, let me know."
You let out a snort, nodding up at him; "I definitely will. I promise."
Childe:
"Who?"
"Ajax—"
"Who did this to you?"
Sighing, you try to turn your face away, finding Childe's never wavering gaze intimidating but his grip on your chin keeps you in place. His face is inches away from your own, eyes narrowed and face set with barely contained rage as he waits for you to answer.
You don't even know why you were arguing. Maybe it was because you were jsut tired and wanted to sink into your bed and forget any of this had even happened. But it was impossible with Childe.
The second you'd come home with a black eye, bruised cheek and over all just dishevelled, Childe had been on you. He'd been his usual happy self up until he saw the state you were in, taking in your ripped clothes and injuries.
"I don't know," you sigh, sinking into his touch as he reach for him. Your body hurts and you're exhausted; honestly, you're still scared. "It all happened so quick. There was a whole group of them and they came at me, pulled me into this alley or something and just..."
Your voice trails, hands shaking.
Childe lets go of your jaw then, arms shifting to wrap around you as he pulls you into an embrace. He holds you tight, pressing a hand to the back of your head as you let yourself break a little in his grasp.
"I was so scared, Ajax..." You breathe, pressing your face into his chest so your words are muffled.
"I know, Y/N," he calls softly, voice gentle and soothing. It had lost that dark edge it had had before, Childe finally coming to his senses and realizing how you needed him more than he needed to get revenge for you. That would still come, of course, but right now he needed to be here for you.
Pulling back, Child pulls your eyes on him; "where does it hurt?"
"...Everywhere," you whisper, wincing as a shoot of pain travels across your body. "I think my ribs might be broken."
Childe's heart breaks and he swears he see's red, but the pressing matter is you. He can find the idiots who hurt you later and he'll make sure they pay in full for what they did to you. Right now, he needs to help you.
"Here," he calls gently, "we'll get you in the bedroom."
You nod up at him, weakly, letting him wrap his arm around your waist and the other under your knees to bring you into his arms. The movement jostles you slightly, and Childe lets out an apology but you brush him off, knowing he didn't mean to.
"I'm sorry," you whisper a moment later, head bowed into the crook of his neck.
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Childe shakes his head adamantly. "I'm gonna take care of you. And I'll make those bastards pay for ever laying their hands on you."
945 notes ¡ View notes
calmcoldevening ¡ 3 months ago
Note
Would you please write some first time sex HC with Art the Clown and a virgin female reader? How would he initiate or how would he be seeing as he’s her first?
Sure, sugar! Hope you'll like it 🍬
First time sex with Art the clown headcanons
Tw: adult content, smut, mention of blood, but mostly I tried to make it soft and comfy. No minors, sugar
Tumblr media
• Most of the time, he has rather strange and somewhat childish ways of showing love. Although the fact that he didn't kill you already says a lot.
• Usually he just looks at you and smiles his trademark creepy smile, although in fact there are a lot of unspoken emotions hidden behind those crazy burning eyes. For you, his heart burns endlessly in a constant stream of childish joy and desire to protect.
• Art likes to come up to you while you're sitting, for example, on the couch in the living room and watching a movie, and put his head on your lap. His fingers dig firmly but gently into the flesh of your soft thighs, causing you to blush deeply and bite your lower lip. But there is nothing vulgar about it. Art just wants your gentle human warmth. Most of the time, his hands and bodies are cold, so he's crazy about the heat of your skin. Especially when you're embarrassed.
• He will be flattered by the fact that he is your first in many ways, indeed. He likes this feeling of possessiveness and an almost animal right to possess. Despite its somewhat childishness and intensity, Art doesn't put any pressure on you. He very often listens to your opinion and takes care of you in his own way.
• Art can be serious if he really wants to, and in the depths of his sadistic heart, he understands this perfectly well.
• It's not that this demon has any desire other than the feeling of itching on his skin from the desire to kill and shed blood. But over time, Art notices that he is increasingly watching couples in love. Very often, he kills teenagers or young people fucking at the wrong time in the wrong place. But he doesn't admire it in any way. He is interested in watching this. And in the place of this red-haired girl, Art involuntarily introduces you.
• Would you make the same sounds? They would probably be even more beautiful with you. What kind of face would you have at that moment? Would you moan his name or vice versa, try to hold back every gentle sound and meow?
• He was interested in getting to know this side of the human body.
• That's why, right after returning home after another murder, Art found you in the kitchen. A man came up close to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist with a firm grip. His lips, painted with black lipstick, instantly found your neck, kissing and gently biting the skin. You blushed instantly, feeling your heartbeat quicken.
• "Art.. What are you doing?" Of course you knew what he was doing. No wonder you often thought about this kind of dirty stuff when your boyfriend was at work. But it's one thing to dream, and another to do it. You weren't ready at all.
• Art continued to kiss your flesh, hinting at what he wants. He wanted you to show him this, to let him feel this strange feeling of two bodies together. For some reason, he was carried away by the idea that you know what to do. Or at least your body knows.
• What was his surprise when you not only did not respond to his caresses, but also quietly whimpered because of a sudden feeling of fear and insecurity.
• Art immediately stepped back and gently but insistently turned you around to face him, pressing your lower back against the kitchen set. You felt how unpleasantly the T-shirt stuck to your body from the blood that soaked it. Art will gently take your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks and wiping tears from your skin. His silent way of dumping what happened to you.
• "..scared." The only word that comes out of your mouth. After standing in silence for a while, Art finally connects all the dots and his face is decorated with a devilish grin. He leans closer, wanting to take you in another passionate embrace, but you gently push him away from you. "Please.. take the blood away."
• Art frowns and visibly sulks, but obeys, retiring to the bathroom. It gives you some time to catch your breath and mentally prepare. You're nervously biting your lip in anticipation.
• Although you desperately wanted to let your boyfriend see this side of you and show him your love, the unknown scared you. And you didn't want to disappoint him in any way. These thoughts gnawed at you in the most unpleasant way.
• When Art cleaned and dried his suit, he found you in the bedroom. His knowledge was also limited, but unlike you, because of his inhuman nature, he just wasn't afraid of something so simple. He literally killed people. And yet, the sight of you, so vulnerable and scared, made the 'heart' shrink uncomfortably, which he really didn't like.
• He came over to your bed and sat on the edge of it, looking up at you. His gloved hand took yours and pulled you into his lap. His fingers gently dug into your hips, tasting the pleasant sensation, and a satisfied grin appeared on his face. Perhaps he was trying to cheer you up somehow. You leaned forward and gently covered his lips with yours. Both of you have significantly improved your kissing skills since the last time, so his tongue alone was already making you dizzy. The kiss was slow and soft, Art's fingers gently stroking your thighs.
• After a couple of minutes, you leaned back, looking down at your boyfriend and catching your heated breath. You carefully took one of his hands with your own and put his palm on your chest, nervously biting your lip and nodding as if giving permission. Art blinked a little, but later smiled contentedly, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingers. He saw how scared and awkward you were, so he wanted to do it surprisingly carefully and slowly, although his own knowledge was limited to spying on fucking teenagers.
• Art pulled off your T-shirt, throwing it on the floor, and reverently gently ran his cold hands along your sides.
• Dark eyes burning with a primal hunger. With a swift motion, he lifts your skirt, exposing your bare thighs to his leering gaze. Art's long, pale fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing and kneading as if to claim you very essence.He hooks a thumb under your lacy underwear, yanking it aside to reveal the virgin petals, glistening with nervous moisture. Art's lips part in a silent, mocking grin, relishing your vulnerability. One gloved hand trails lower, fingers splaying across your slick heat as he rubs slow, deliberate circles.
• His painted mouth gently presses against your neck, leaving noticeable bite marks and black paint on your skin. He was clearly filled with a desire to mark you as his own. Art's desire grows, although the grin never leaves his face for a moment. The tension in your pants is almost painful. He carefully removes the glove from his left hand and gently runs his fingers along the curve of your heated thigh. Finally, he finds the coveted moist warmth by dipping one finger into it with a wet squish. You nervously bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears that have appeared in your eyes. Art kisses your neck and chin, caresses your sweat-soaked skin with his tongue and lips. The stretch around his fingers is so slight that Art wonders mentally how his dick would fit inside you. Without thinking twice, he dips another finger, and then another and another. Although your walls are still damn wet and hot, almost hungry.
• Art's fingers slow their rough exploration as he senses your increasing unease. He gentles his touch, caressing your thighs with tender strokes, as if trying to soothe any lingering nerves. He continues his deliberate advances, guiding one of your legs to wrap around his waist as he positions himself at your hot entrance. With a calculated slowness, Art begins to push inside, relishing each tiny resistance and the subsequent surrender of your innocence. He pauses often, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, all while maintaining a hypnotic, unblinking stare. Once he's fully sheathed within you, Art's expression remains stoic, belying the depraved satisfaction he derives from your virgin heat and whimpers. He begins to move, setting a rhythm that's both brutal and methodical, his pale face a mask of concentration as he claims your body with a single-minded focus.
• His movements are slow, almost gentle. He gently squeezes your sides, allowing you to lean against him, and showers kisses on your face and hair.
• Gradually, his movements accelerate, his brain melts from the thrill of such a hot moment. But his mind is still focused on you. The way you sound, the way you feel, the way you feel good. He feels you pulsating and shrinking around him, and tries to rub as hard as possible against that strange point inside you from which, as he realized, you see the stars. Despite his inhuman nature, he was surprisingly absolutely focused on wanting to please you. He wanted you to feel good only with him. To make you feel good.
• When you cum around his cock with a short moan, Art gently presses you to him, splashing streams of hot semen into you and just catching his breath. His lips are kissing your neck, and his hand is stroking your wet hair. His way of saying 'good girl.'
265 notes ¡ View notes
venuswarmlight ¡ 2 months ago
Note
I was hoping to request a jealous Mizu x reader, like maybe she sees reader joking around with Tenzin and she gets really jealous. Idk maybe something along those lines ig. Tbh you can do whatever really, I just want some jealous Mizu x reader stuff. Sorry if this sounds too vague😓, Anyway thank you 🩷🖤
I hope I didn’t read this too late! A lot of things happened but what matters now is that I can keep writing. Hope you enjoyed it, i did it femreader bc I assumed you wanted it that way(I ALSO DIDNT FIND A GIF FOR THIS IM SO SORRY itS BEEN MONTHS I DONT USE TUMBLR)
Warnings: nsfw at the end. Not very proofread. Taigen acting like a man in the 1600’s. BAD ENGLISH.
Notes: Reader is an archer. Idk I’ll be adding more
Jealous!Mizu x Fem!Reader.
Tumblr media
Having a mercenary girlfriend was the best thing that happened to you, from the first time you two met until now your only work was following her like a puppy through the villages and kicking asses to the ground like the badass you were, and of course the cozy nights were you both trained your fighting skills next to a lake just to end it by making out until her hands were already in your chest, desperate for blowing off some steam. Your life next to Mizu was great, yeah, but thanks to an unfortunate serious of events you weren’t the only ones in a campfire nearby that forest lake. At least for now.
“I’ll see if there’s another rabbit out there.” Mizu got up from the snowy ground, and looked at you. “Scream if Taigen gets too nosy.” She said as she dead-stared at the man sitting next to you.
“I’ll be fine, but thank you.” You smiled at her and went back to polishing your arrows, while Taigen was doing literally anything but looking at you with curiosity.
After a few minutes you finally broke the ice between you and him, your voice as soft as a feather while you spoke “You’re staring, you know that?”
He immediately realized and turned his head to the campfire smoke, loosing himself in the front view. “I’m sorry, I’m just.. Surprised.” He answered later, hesitant.
“Of what?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you lifted your gaze to look at him, concerned.
“Well, women like you are not usually seen in these conditions.. Much less with a man like him.” His words intrigued you, what did he meant by this? You inhaled deeply as you kept doing your work, finally storing the arrows in their respective case.
“I find myself very comfortable where I am right now, I don’t know what you m-”You were interrupted by Taigen, he turned himself getting in front of you.
“You’re too pretty to be an archer instead of living in an estate with a rich man.”
Oh. So this is what he meant. Your eyes widened and you started laughing, covering your mouth of embarrassment, honestly it was uncomfortable and out of place but you decided to take it as a compliment AND as a dare. Purposely changed the subject to avoid personal questions and scolded him, pushing him playfully. “Hey! My appearance has nothing to do with my abilities.”
Taigen chuckled, not pushing you back but being more confident with his approaching attitude. “I’m just saying the truth, you should-”
“Oh, yeah, that’s enough!” You jumped onto him, making him fall into the snow and taking him by surprise, his head bounced a bit on the ground, disoriented.
“What is wrong with you!?”
“Can’t fight a woman back? You must be shitting your pants right now, what a shame.” You spilled, sarcastically, but that dominance fell when he grabbed your hands placed in his chest and used it as a support to push you to the right, shifting positions, now his body was topping you, his hands immobilizing yours by pressing hard on your upper torso.
“Not bad.. But still not as good as me.” He proudly said, suddenly you kicked his butt with your knee from the back, making him loose his strength in your wrists, you repeated his last movement, ending again in how you started that silly fight, your giggles and laughters filled the forest’s natural sounds, and suddenly you totally forgot that Mizu could come back anytime and find you two in this compromising position.
You and Taigen struggled there for a few minutes, what he thought that would be a stupid kid’s fight turned into a challenge, even if it didn’t look like it, he started recognizing how.. Incredible you were, your smooth but hard blows, the little screams you made when you felt like you were gonna loose, now he understood.
How lucky Mizu was for having a girl like you.
You finished the fight by enlazing your fingers with an iron grip around his neck, and your other hand threatening his face with your fist, but you forgot that Taigen’s hands were still free. He grabbed your waist and managed to make you fall on your back as he stood up from the ground and made you loose your grip on his neck, his legs immobilizing yours and his hands putting your wrists above your head, his uncontrolled breathing crashing against your nose as he laughed. “Defeated.”
Before you could answer, you saw a third person kick Taigen’s body from the side, just in the ribs, making him fall to the ground, almost burning his whole body next to the campfire, you sat up quick and looked at him first, then looked up at your side, a tall figure with a dead bunny grabbed by the ears in front of you, those blue unsettling eyes staring at you with the coldest countenance. You knew right there and then she was mad as hell.
“Training without me?” Mizu got on her knees to the campfire to roast the rabbit, not caring about Taigen’s prolly broken rib (not really). You stood up to clean your clothes and sit next to her, nervous. You weren’t doing anything wrong, but still.
“We were just playing.” You excused yourself, trying to make her look at you, but no. She was ignoring you.
Instead of answering, her gaze turned out to Taigen, who was struggling to recover from that fucking kick that hurt as hell. “You’re getting too comfortable here, aren’t you?” Her tone was noticeably passive-aggressive, her grip on the roasting stick was tightening.
“That wasn’t fucking necessary! Fuck, it hurts..” He yelled, finally sitting a bit far from you two, you could feel the tension building heavier and thicker in the ambiance.
It was so uncomfortable you felt like you had to go. “I’m gonna wash my hands before eating, I won’t be long.” You got up to escape the funeral situation you were just in, but a hand grabbed yours, making you stop, you looked back with concern, Mizu was behind you with that angry gaze, sending shivers down your spine.
“It’s too dark to go alone.” She said, then looked at Taigen “Take care of the dinner, don’t screw it up.” He was about to talk but instantly shut his mouth like he knew if he talked he could end up dead.
You tried to forget her toxic behavior as you two disappeared yourselves into the woods, the moonlight making the path for both, the silence feeding your ‘I’m fucked’ thoughts and increasing more when you felt her grip on your hand tightening, she ended up dragging you to a not so far place, finally letting out your hand. The only thing you could look was her back and her little black bun.
“What was that?” She spat, aggressively turning herself and hoovering over you.
“I told you we were just playing.“You stepped back, but unconventionally bumped with a tree behind you, before you could realize, Mizu had you cornered, your chest rising and falling against hers as she looked down at you.
“It didn’t look like it.” And the jigsaw puzzles connected in your head. She was jealous.
“Are you doing this because you’re-”
”Maybe. Seeing my dove pinned down by a bald monkey it’s not funny.” Her words were sharp, you didn’t even know how to answer.
Your hand gently caressed her cheek, making her gaze softened as she looked at you. “You’re the only one in my heart.” You whispered, dragging her closer to your face, her hands traveling down your curves and grabbing your hips tightly, your heat already increasing its temperature as it mets her knee, rubbing your core tentatively.
“I still want to fuck that pretty smile outta’ you.” Her lips attacked you like an animal, making you whimper and moan against her watery mouth, her knee making you hump on it desperately and your inner thoughts begging for mercy cause’ this night was going to hit you hard and long.
166 notes ¡ View notes
muiitoloko ¡ 3 months ago
Note
Hi, first of anything I love and ate up every single thing you wrote. That said I NEED a story where Sev is about to be a dad, they are both in the last week of pregnancy just waiting for the moment the little girl (why do we all see him as a baby girl dad tho?) and he's just reflexive on how his life is right now after suffering so much and thinking he would die alone. If you want to add the birth and baby birth that's even better 💔 thanks.
Tumblr media
Title: The Twin Stars in Snape's World
Summary: Severus's world shifts entirely with the birth of his daughters, filling the shadows of his past with light and love that he never thought he’d experience.
Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: It’s not exactly what you asked for, but I was already working on a third chapter for my fanfic Daddy Snape's Dilemma, and your request totally nudged me to finish it up and post it! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
First, Second and Third part here.
Also read on Ao3
Tumblr media
The final week of your pregnancy arrived, and Severus Snape was, without a doubt, more nervous than you had ever seen him. Over the past months, his protectiveness had gradually intensified, but now, as you neared the end, it had reached an almost comical extreme. He refused to let you out of his sight, shadowing your every move with the intensity of a hawk, his tall, lean figure looming close no matter where you went.
At Hogwarts, his vigilance took on a new form. Snape had all but bullied Dumbledore into hiring a temporary teacher to cover your Ancient Runes classes. You could tell Dumbledore found the whole thing rather amusing, indulging Snape’s demands with a patient, almost fatherly tolerance. As for Snape, there was no humor in it—his determination was fueled by what seemed to be genuine, bone-deep fear.
Instead of teaching, you were relegated to a bedroom at the back of the Potions classroom, with Snape popping in between his own lessons to check on you. You had never seen him so anxious, his usual stoic facade cracking more with each passing day. He would pace outside your quarters, shoulders tense, the dark circles under his eyes deepening. Despite his best efforts to hide it, he was deeply stressed, behaving as if he were the one about to give birth.
You noticed that this worry manifested in another unexpected way: the matter of naming your daughters. Every day he would bring you lists, scrolls of parchment filled with options he had painstakingly compiled, poring over the names with the same scrutiny he’d apply to brewing a delicate, dangerous potion. Each name had to be perfect, meaningful, and worthy.
He had presented you with everything from mythological names to obscure, poetic words he’d found in ancient texts. You, however, had a different approach. “Severus,” you said one evening as he handed you yet another list, his expression serious, “I know you want to have everything planned, but… we’ll know their names when we see them. Don’t you think?”
Snape’s gaze turned sharp, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if the suggestion was almost sacrilegious. “And what if we don’t?” he retorted, his voice low and pointed. “What if we look at them and realize we’ve failed to give them names that reflect who they are meant to be?”
You bit back a smile, reaching out to touch his hand, feeling the tension radiate from his slender, calloused fingers. “Severus, we won’t fail them just because we haven’t decided on names yet. They’re our daughters—they’ll be extraordinary no matter what we call them.”
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as he looked down at you, the intensity in his gaze softening. “I’m merely trying to… prepare. It is my responsibility as their father to see to it that they have everything they need—even a name that will protect them from the start.”
His protectiveness tugged at your heart, and you squeezed his hand. “You’re already giving them everything they need, Severus. They’ll have you.”
Snape’s expression shifted, a rare vulnerability flickering across his angular face, though he quickly hid it. “Yes, well…” he muttered, glancing away. “I still believe we should at least shortlist a few options.”
Over the next few days, you managed to narrow down the lists together, though every time you thought you’d settled on something, he’d return with yet another alternative he deemed equally worthy. It became almost endearing, watching him struggle with his need for control over something as uncontrollable as birth.
You chuckled one evening, teasing him, “You do realize, Severus, that the girls might decide their names for us? They could arrive and look nothing like any of these.”
His frown deepened, though a hint of amusement flickered in his dark eyes. “They will look like you,” he replied, his voice almost possessive, as though that was an immutable fact. “And if they resemble you, then any name I choose will be worthy.”
In the quiet moments, you could see past his impatience, his need for everything to be just so. He was terrified. The great, imposing Severus Snape, who had faced dangers most wizards could scarcely imagine, was terrified of this unknown journey. And though he hid it behind his meticulous planning, his anxiety was evident in every line he wrote, every name he researched.
One night, as he sat beside you, poring over yet another scroll, you couldn’t help but place your hand over his, stilling his movements. “Severus,” you said softly, your voice gentle, “it’s all right to be scared.”
He didn’t pull his hand away, but he didn’t meet your eyes, his jaw tight. “I am not afraid,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction. His voice was softer, almost strained. “I simply… cannot afford any mistakes. Not with them. Not with you.”
You placed a hand on your belly, feeling a gentle kick as if one of the babies could sense his unease. You guided his hand to the spot, letting him feel the movement.
“They’re already telling us they’re fine,” you whispered, smiling as his eyes softened, a faint blush creeping up his pale cheeks. “And you’re going to be an incredible father.”
For a brief moment, the tension melted from his face, replaced by a rare, unguarded expression. He watched you, his hand lingering on your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles over the spot where he’d felt the kick.
“Two girls,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice filled with a strange mixture of awe and dread. “I don’t know if I’m prepared for this.”
You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, your heart swelling with love for this man who had, against all odds, become so much more than you’d ever dreamed possible. “You’ll be ready, Severus,” you assured him, your voice full of conviction. “They’re already lucky to have you.”
In that moment, as he held you close, his face buried in your shoulder, you knew that no matter what names were chosen, no matter how unprepared he felt, your daughters would be loved beyond measure. And for Severus, that was the truest magic of all.
Tumblr media
Snape sat at his desk, his gaze flickering over the rows of students carefully attempting the day’s potion. A faint curl of distaste tugged at his lips as he caught sight of Potter, who, as usual, seemed perilously close to ruining his cauldron’s contents. Snape had already reprimanded him once that morning, his words slicing through the dungeon air with the sharpness he reserved for the boy. Yet now, as he sat in silence, the other students barely daring to breathe, his attention drifted elsewhere, pulled toward thoughts far removed from the dungeons of Hogwarts.
Just behind him, a faint rustle and creak filtered through the door to your shared quarters. The faint sounds of movement as you stirred from sleep. A warmth crept into his chest, breaking through the stoic shell he maintained with such precision.
As his gaze returned to the students before him, he felt the familiar, bittersweet pang of Lily’s memory—his first love, and his greatest regret. For so long, her shadow had been his constant companion, filling him with a cold, unrelenting ache. Protecting her son had become his purpose, his penance. And after her death, he had accepted that this mission would likely be the only meaning his life would ever have. There had been a time when he thought he might die carrying it out—perhaps even hoped for it.
But then you had entered his life.
A sigh escaped his lips, almost inaudible beneath the simmering of potions and the scratch of quills. The world had shifted when you came into it, and now, with the prospect of your daughters’ arrival in only three days, he felt that shift more acutely than ever. A sense of purpose, something wholly separate from his debt to Lily, had taken root within him.
You had given him a reason to live that went beyond atonement. The life growing within you, two delicate lives entwined with his own, felt like a redemption he had never believed possible. For the first time, he could imagine a future not defined by sacrifice and solitude, but by something richer, something gentler.
Snape’s hand tightened briefly around the edge of his desk, and he watched his students, their heads bent over their cauldrons, oblivious to his thoughts. He had spent years mastering his emotions, transforming them into weapons, shields, armor against the outside world. But now, he realized that he could no longer afford to wield that armor so thoughtlessly.
These children, his daughters—they would be born into a world fractured by war, a world where he had a role to play in the coming darkness. Yet for them, he could not allow himself the luxury of despair or surrender. For the first time, he couldn’t imagine simply fading away into the shadows after Voldemort’s defeat. It was no longer an option to leave this life without knowing that his daughters would grow up strong, safe, and surrounded by the kind of love he had never known.
As the thought took root, Snape’s jaw tightened, a new resolve settling over him like a cloak. He would survive this war. He would survive, not because of some duty to the past, but because of a responsibility to the future—to his family. He would see his daughters grow up; he would teach them, protect them, stand by their side as they learned about the world and perhaps even found their own places in it.
For once, the prospect of living beyond the war held something other than pain. A faint vision of two young girls, with bright eyes and curious minds, drifted through his mind. His daughters, growing up, asking questions about the stars, about potions, perhaps even about love. And you—by his side, guiding them with the warmth he could only hope to echo.
The shrill sound of a student’s cauldron hissing sharply brought him back to the present. He narrowed his eyes at the offending student, who paled under his glare and quickly adjusted the heat, stammering an apology. Snape stood up abruptly, his dark eyes narrowing as he prepared to address the room. But before he could say a word, a loud crash echoed through the dungeons as the door to his quarters burst open.
He whipped around, dark eyes narrowing, but whatever sharp retort had been on his lips vanished as he took in the sight before him.
There you stood, gripping the doorway, your face flushed, one hand braced against your lower back and the other cradling your rounded belly. The look on your face was equal parts determination and alarm, but it was the words that followed that sent his heart racing.
“It’s happening,” you gasped, your voice shaky but clear.
For a moment, Snape stood frozen, your words echoing in his mind, the meaning of them almost surreal. Happening? He glanced down, his mind racing. Surely not—
His thoughts halted abruptly as Ron Weasley’s voice, loud and tactless, filled the silence. “Why’s she peeing herself in front of everyone?”
Hermione’s horrified gasp quickly followed, and she smacked him on the arm, whispering furiously, “She’s not peeing herself, Ron! Her water’s broken! She’s giving birth!”
That was all it took to snap Snape out of his stunned stupor. The babies were coming—now. Much earlier than planned. His eyes widened, and he lunged from behind his desk, moving to your side in an instant, his usual composure nowhere in sight.
“Merlin,” he muttered under his breath, one hand hovering awkwardly near you, unsure whether to support you or hold back in case he only made things worse. “You… you’re sure?” he stammered, though he immediately realized how absurd that question was.
You managed a small, pained laugh. “Quite sure, Severus.”
His mind raced as he attempted to regain his bearings. The portkey to St. Mungo’s—they’d had it prepared weeks ago, but it had seemed more like an overcautious precaution at the time. Now, with the urgency of the situation hitting him, he felt his calm shatter.
He shot a look around the classroom, and his gaze landed on the nearest student—Hermione Granger, who was watching with wide eyes, clearly understanding the seriousness of the situation. “Miss Granger,” he barked, his voice laced with barely concealed panic, “fetch Professor McGonagall. Tell her to cover this class immediately.”
Hermione jumped to her feet, nodding fervently as she dashed from the room, her own nervous energy amplifying the urgency. Meanwhile, Snape turned back to you, his heart racing as he tried to mask his worry.
“Severus,” you breathed, clutching his arm. “The portkey—”
He nodded quickly, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yes, of course.” His hand moved to his robes, fingers fumbling as he retrieved the small, inconspicuous glass vial enchanted to transport you both directly to St. Mungo’s.
He held the vial up to you, and you grabbed it, your other hand gripping his arm tightly as the room around you vanished in a whirl of colors. The bustling noise of Hogwarts faded, replaced by the sterile quiet of the St. Mungo’s ward as you both landed in the reception area, nearly stumbling from the sudden shift in location.
A Healer rushed toward you both, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. “Mrs. Snape—oh my, it’s early!” she exclaimed, gesturing to an available stretcher as she signaled to her colleagues. “Let’s get you to a delivery room.”
Snape’s hands hovered near you, his face a mixture of worry and focus as he helped you onto the stretcher. As the Healers moved you down the hallway, he kept pace beside you, his long strides easily matching their quick pace. He reached out to take your hand, gripping it tightly as you squeezed back, the intensity of the contractions beginning to set in.
“You’re doing fine,” he murmured, his deep voice steadier than he felt. “Just breathe.”
A faint smile crossed your face despite the pain. “Severus Snape, giving breathing advice. Now I’ve seen everything.”
He quirked an eyebrow, though his expression softened. “Mock me all you like, but keep breathing.”
The Healers moved efficiently, ushering you into the delivery room and setting you up as Snape hovered close, his dark gaze flicking anxiously between you and the medical staff. He could feel the old fear surfacing—the fear of the unknown, the helplessness of standing by while others took over. But your hand in his grounded him, your presence reminding him that he was exactly where he needed to be.
A Healer turned to him, her expression calm and reassuring. “It may take a few hours, Professor. These things are rarely quick, and with twins…”
Snape’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, settling into a chair beside you, his hand never leaving yours.
Hours passed, though they felt like mere minutes to him. He was acutely aware of every moment—the sound of your breathing, the tightening of your grip during contractions, the reassuring words from the Healers. He remained silent, his face a mask of concentration, his own discomfort forgotten in his focus on you.
The hours stretched, each contraction increasing the tension in the room. Severus remained by your side, his hand firmly gripping yours, his dark eyes watching every move the Healers made with suspicion. But the moment the lead Healer suggested you get up and walk to help progress the labor, his calm snapped.
“Walk?” His voice, usually controlled and low, rose sharply, filled with uncharacteristic alarm. “You expect her to walk in this state? Are you out of your minds?”
The Healer, a kindly-looking witch with graying hair, gave Severus a reassuring smile, accustomed to nervous fathers. “Professor Snape,” she began gently, “encouraging movement can help speed things along. It’s quite common, especially with twins.”
Severus’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his face paling even more. “Common?” he echoed incredulously, his gaze darting from you to the Healer. “My wife is in labor, Madam, with twins, and you want her to walk about like she’s merely out for a stroll?”
Despite the contractions, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his outburst. “Severus,” you managed between breaths, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “It’s fine. I can walk a little.”
He looked at you, his dark eyes wide with concern, clearly torn. The thought of you enduring even the smallest discomfort was driving him nearly mad. “If—if you’re certain…” he muttered, though his grip on your arm was firm as he helped you out of bed, as if preparing to catch you at the slightest misstep.
The Healer guided you both down the hall for a short, careful walk, Severus muttering under his breath with every step, shooting fierce looks at any Healer who dared suggest you keep moving. When you paused, wincing as another contraction hit, he practically growled at the Healer. “If there’s any risk to my wife or our daughters…” He let the threat linger, his face a mask of furious protectiveness.
Finally, you were able to return to the bed, and though the labor continued slowly, Severus remained at your side, holding your hand and murmuring soft reassurances. His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed back your hair, the love and worry in his gaze evident even as he tried to keep his composure.
It was nearly dawn when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by a cheerful voice that could only belong to Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster entered, his arms laden with trinkets, including tiny stuffed owls, a miniature cauldron, and a set of rattles that jingled softly. He looked as though he had raided the entire children’s section of Diagon Alley.
“Severus, my boy!” he called warmly, his blue eyes twinkling as he approached. “I heard there was a new arrival or two on the way. Ah, and Minerva!” He turned, gesturing as Professor McGonagall entered, a faintly amused smile on her face as she took in Severus’s tense form by your bedside.
Dumbledore began to hand out trinkets, placing the little toys on the table near your bed, each accompanied by a soft hum and a lemon drop he popped into his mouth with relish. “The finest wares from Diagon Alley,” he declared, his tone bright. “Only the best for the future Misses Snape!”
Minerva moved closer to you, her expression softening as she reached for your hand. “How are you holding up, dear?” she asked, her Scottish accent laced with warmth. “Severus here has kept us all quite informed on your progress. I daresay I’ve never seen him in such a state.”
“Nor has anyone else, I assure you,” you replied, managing a tired smile. Severus shot Minerva a look that could have melted cauldrons, though his hand never left yours.
Dumbledore continued to rummage through his collection, holding up a small toy wand that emitted a shower of harmless sparks. “I thought this might suit,” he said with a wink. “We must start their magical education early.”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Healers gave the signal. Severus held your hand tightly, his face a mix of awe and terror as the final stage of labor began. You saw a single tear slip down his usually composed face, his grip tightening as he whispered, “You’re incredible. I— I am so proud of you.”
The Healers wheeled you down a quiet, dimly lit corridor, Severus’s tall, shadowy form looming beside you, never letting you out of his sight. His dark eyes, usually hardened and calculating, were softened with a mixture of awe and profound vulnerability as he took in every detail of the room being prepared for the birth of your daughters.
The faint echoes of magical murmurs from the Healers filled the room as they adjusted the equipment and spells needed. Severus moved to your side, his long, slender fingers brushing against your hand with a tentative gentleness. You could feel his nervous energy, the intense worry that he tried so desperately to mask beneath his stoic exterior.
As the contractions intensified, he bent down, his pale, angular face close to yours, his hair falling forward to shield his expression. His deep voice, usually sharp and guarded, softened as he whispered, “I’m here. You’re not alone, amore.”
The Healers instructed him to step back slightly, readying themselves for the delivery. Though he complied, his piercing gaze never left you, as if he were willing every ounce of his strength to help you through this moment.
Moments later, the room filled with a powerful, almost sacred silence as the first cry rang out—a thin, wailing sound that sent a tremor through Severus. One of the Healers approached, cradling a tiny, wriggling form swaddled in soft white fabric, and extended her towards Severus. His expression froze, and for a split second, he seemed almost paralyzed by fear.
The Healer’s voice was gentle. “Would you like to hold your daughter, Professor Snape?”
He nodded, though his hands trembled as he reached out. Carefully, she placed the baby in his arms, her tiny face peeking out from the blanket, her features so delicate and small they seemed otherworldly. Severus looked down at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. His usually cold demeanor melted away, replaced by an intense, overwhelming tenderness that softened every line of his face.
“She’s…” His voice faltered, thick with emotion. His eyes glistened, and he swallowed hard, blinking back tears as he took in every detail—the soft curve of her cheeks, her tiny fingers curling into fists, her miniature nose. She was perfect, and in that moment, he realized he would do anything to protect her. He bent his head, his deep voice a reverent whisper. “You’re perfect.”
Just as Severus seemed to settle into the awe of holding his daughter, your voice cut through, strained yet filled with strength as the next contraction began. He looked up, his dark gaze flickering between you and the tiny life cradled in his arms, torn between staying with his newborn daughter and being by your side.
“Severus,” you managed, breathless, a smile breaking through the exhaustion, “go on… be there for her.”
He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a beat, his expression raw with admiration, before he gently passed the baby to a nearby Healer, ensuring she would be safe. He crossed the room quickly, his dark robes sweeping behind him as he returned to your side, his long fingers slipping back into yours. You felt his grip, firm and unyielding, grounding you, as he whispered encouragements, his voice unsteady yet filled with pride.
Minutes later, a second cry filled the room, high and clear, and you saw Severus’s shoulders tremble with relief and elation. One of the Healers brought over the second newborn, a twin as delicate and perfect as her sister, and Severus stared at her, his heart swelling in his chest.
“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice choked with a depth of feeling he rarely revealed. He took her into his arms, his slender fingers cradling her small head, his thumb gently tracing her cheek. His usually cold, intimidating face softened into something unrecognizable, a fierce love that lit his dark eyes with an intensity that left you breathless.
As he held her, the first Healer approached, bringing the other twin over to you, her tiny face nestled in the blanket. Your heart filled as you looked down at her, at the small, precious life you had brought into the world. In that moment, the room felt full of magic, not the kind that could be taught or brewed, but the kind that was born out of love, pure and unconditional.
Severus looked over at you, his expression softened beyond recognition, his piercing gaze filled with an almost painful tenderness as he watched you holding your daughter. For once, his stoic mask was gone, replaced by the vulnerability of a man who had finally found something worth living—and dying—for.
“They have your eyes,” you whispered, noting the dark lashes and tiny features, a hint of his unmistakable presence in them already.
He nodded, speechless, his voice catching as he tried to speak. When he finally found his words, they were barely above a whisper, his voice thick with emotion. “They’ll have your spirit… your kindness. And they’ll know they are loved.” His gaze met yours, a profound, unspoken promise shimmering in his eyes.
He reached out, his long fingers gently touching your cheek, and for the first time, you saw the walls he had so carefully built around his heart crumble, replaced by the love he had tried so hard to hide. Here, in this room, with his daughters in his arms and you by his side, Severus Snape had found his redemption. And it was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.
190 notes ¡ View notes
cloudyzeusy ¡ 10 months ago
Note
Can you write Sasuke (young adult and adult) x Top male reader nsfw headcannnons/alphabet with Sasuke being shy and trying to be quiet.
ALPHABET HEADCANONS
Sasuke x Male Reader
Tumblr media
A = Aftercare (what is he like after sex)
Sasuke loves aftercare but he is definitely too shy to say it upfront so instead he resorts to cuddling up against you. Acting like he doesn't secretly love it when you clean him up after and you take a bath together.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs)
He loves your hands, weird i know but he just loves to play with them while doing stuff. Like he could be studying and he could be fiddling with his hands helping him concentrate on his work. Or he loves wrapping your hands around his throat, choking him.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum)
He loves your cum - a guilty pleasure of his. He loves swallowing it not that it tastes particularly good but because he loves anything coming from you.
D = Dirty secret (his dirty secret)
I feel like he was definitely a virgin before he met you so the most he has done is fuck himself with a dildo to a picture of you. He was so embarrassed after he couldn't bare to look you in the eye after.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Like I said he has never had sex before so he basically relies on you to show him what to do. He is the perfect pillow princess except when it comes to blowjobs. I don't know how but he is a natural.
F = Favourite position (what does he enjoy)
He loves a good mating press he loves the deeper penetration being fucked deeply. He also loves it because he can watch your face as you fuck his two favourite things at once.
G = Goofy (how is he in the moment?)
He's definitely more serious in the moment he tends to leave the dirty talk to you preferring to participate with his moans.
H = Hair (how well groomed is he?)
He likes his hair short, preferring to keep himself well groomed plus it's uncomfortable.
I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)
He loves holding your hands and looking into your eyes though he may not be a very open person however since he met you he actually tries.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He can try as much as he wants but he can't get off without you there with him whispering comforting words or helping him jack off.
K = Kink (his kinks)
Has a feminisation kink - flushes every time you call him a good girl
Has major daddy issues no wonder he calls you daddy now
He loves getting praise
L = Location (his favourite places to do the deed)
Anywhere but as long as it's with you but he prefers the bedroom as he can be as loud as he wants.
M = Motivation (what turns him on)
You controlling him in simple ways like grabbing his waist or gripping his thighs. But especially when you turn up shirtless.
N = No (something he wouldn’t do/ turn offs)
He hates blood, piss and scat the usual stuff
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Like I said, he loves giving head and is so good at it. He doesn't mind receiving it either.
P = Pace (does he like it fast and rough or slow and sensual?)
He enjoys it fast and rough especially after a hard mission it helps him get out of his head. But during your anniversaries he loves it slowly, loving being together.
Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often)
He doesn't mind a quickie as you guys tend to be quite busy on missions but the more you have them he gets sadder. He loves spending time together so he forces you guys to take a day off so you both can actually enjoy sex.
R = Risk (does he like to experiment? does he take risks?)
He loves experimenting and trying new things together though he may be very shy while he does it he loves you so he tries.
S = Stamina (how long does it last?)
He can last quite long normally but against you he tires out quite quickly between your teasing and skills he's weak.
T = Toys (does he own toys? do he use them?)
He owns like 3 toys and that's normally for when he reaches his breaking point for you being away too long. Normally you guys don't use toys liking it to be just you two.
U = Unfair (does he like being teased)
He hates being teased even though it gets him going he prefers you just getting on with it.
V = Volume (how loud he is , what sounds he makes?)
He is so loud for a usually silent man you had to soundproof your bedroom. He makes the sweetest whines and moans only for you to enjoy.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon)
He sometimes wears plugs on missions full of your cum simply because he loves it. He also loves you showing possession of him like in front of Sakura when she gets a little too brave.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
5.5 inches not small but not quite big
Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
It was low but as he began to date you he started to want sex more and more with how good it was. bUt not to that addictive state yet.
Z = Zzz (how quickly he fall asleep afterwards)
Very fast you have to coax him to stay awake though he will stay awake long enough to have aftercare.
Tumblr media
Part 1 of 2
501 notes ¡ View notes