#but either way...she causes harm. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blkkizzat · 20 days ago

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PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ 𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟓 — 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: nov 19th 8:52pm ⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: onsen + dubcon + coercion + fingering + riding + mating press + bath sex + breeding + sassy!reader ⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 5751

𝐧𝐧𝐧 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Suguru reclines against the edge of the onsen, arms stretched lazily along the stone. Steam curls around him in languid waves, the mineral-rich bath soothes his bones but does absolutely nothing for the ache between his muscular thighs. The weight of his erection, stiff and heavy, anchors against the flat planes of his stomach—a silent testament to the tension that even the warm waters cannot wash away.

19 days.

It’s been 19 days since the start of 'No Nut November'—an ordeal that began with your unwelcomed and completely unsolicited suggestion during a meeting with Suguru's top benefactors.

The meetings with these so-called patrons, eager for a taste of pseudo-importance in his cult, were just another way Suguru expertly exploits their inflated sense of superiority to pull them, and their bank accounts, deeper into his web of indoctrination. Growing irritated at the mere memory, Suguru’s muscles tense up as if the onsen’s warmth had never touched him. Normally his secretary, Manami, would sit-in to take notes during these meetings, but with more pressing matters elsewhere, she had sent you in her place.

You were the newest member of Suguru’s sorcerer family—a position you accepted, albeit reluctantly, thanks to a recommendation from your long-time friend, Manami herself. Still, Suguru isn't blind.

He knows you didn't join out of loyalty nor conviction—you needed protection.

Aligning yourself with Suguru’s cause was a way to escape Jujutsu Society’s relentless pursuit. They were hunting you for your various crimes as well, and being under Suguru’s protection offered you a chance to survive.

And yet, the subtle side-eyes you throw his way, the faint twitches at the corners of your mouth, the tiny snorts that you so skillfully turned into sneezes at his various words or proclamations—they spoke volumes.

You thought he was full of shit.

Not exclusive to just his cult either—his entire ideology.

Although, you never openly defied nor disrespected him.

On the contrary, your behavior was impeccable surface wise.

Anyone if asked would say you were a sweet yet quiet girl who showed Suguru the utmost reverence in your mannerisms and diligently carried out every task assigned to you.

Your rebellious yet inconspicuous expressions of skepticism were too minor for others to notice in order for him to justify any kind of punishment. Not to mention your babydoll-like mannerisms that made you look even more like the picture of innocence. Your rap sheet as a cursed user was the only sign anyone would ever have of your deviant ways and yet with just a bat of your eyes you'd be able convince anyone you were the one wrongly persecuted. No, Suguru he couldn't risk openly punishing you for no reason lest he be seen as a hypocrite in front of his newly made family. After all, he had vowed to do no harm to fellow sorcerers not standing in his way.

Besides, even if you didn't approve, you also weren't a hindrance to him—you were an asset.

Nevertheless, there was still a lingering air of smugness about you that irked, crawling under Suguru's skin like a parasyte. A secretive defiance against him, like you thought you were somehow above him because you deemed yourself more intelligent.

Your attitude combined with your charms reminded Suguru far too much of Satoru—a resemblance he would never admit aloud, but unfortunately, couldn’t ignore.

As a result, Suguru tended to avoid you. The quiet challenge you presented unsettled him—a subtle reminder of unresolved feelings toward his old friend-turned-foe. It was easier to sidestep you altogether, a pacifist approach to maintain his sanity and preserve his standing among his cursed user peers.

However, your filling in for Manami had been unavoidable on such short notice. And as Suguru expected, you seized the opportunity to mock him under a carefully crafted guise of loyalty.

With all the false earnestness your doe eyes could muster, you offered an insightful suggestion during the meeting—a so-called new way to bring his followers deeper into the fold and reveal the most worthy of his believers.

You proclaimed only Suguru’s most devout and faithful followers could perfectly embody the spirit of his cause and to prove their honor, they should adopt an ancient Roman warrior tradition—

—the practice of 'et non nux novem'—a month of silence, meditation, prayer, and of course—

abstinence.

All in honor of the gods—or, in this case, their fearless god-like leader Suguru.

Needless to say, the pompous dumbass monkeys in the room eagerly lapped up your grandiose words. You, the forked-tongue tempress, worked your soft-feminine charms to the point they were eating out of your palm.

These so-called 'elites' of Tokyo might have had wealth and status, but wisdom and worldliness?

Clearly lacking.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t have fallen into a cult in the first place, let alone been fooled by a dead language none of them could even understand.

None of them were versed in latin, that is, except Suguru.

Like a single spark on dry brush the idea of ‘et non nux novem’ spread like wildfire and every single monkey follower in his cult wanted to show themselves as worthy by participating.

While you were praised for your faithfulness to the cause, Suguru found himself trapped. Forced to participate in this charade to set an example of solidarity and faith. And while Suguru could handle many things, losing wasn’t one of them. What infuriated him even more was the way you’d turned his cult against him, audaciously meeting his bullshit with your own.

For the first-time since the start of his cult someone had checkmated him.

Not to mention, you’d effectively cucked him, and you knew it—the small, self-satisfied smile on your plump lips every time you'd seen him this month said as much. Every tiny gesture of yours Suguru scrutinized and deemed to be in mock of him. Even the quick flick of your moist, pink tongue to wet your dry lips felt like a deliberate taunt.

The sight would send a visceral rage through Suguru who'd immediately take his leave.

But as the month wore on, those feelings morphed into something darker, invading his thoughts in more scandalously salacious ways. What used to be him envisioning him ripping your insolent tongue right out of your mouth, Suguru found himself wondering how your lips might feel wrapped around his cock, putting your mischievous lil' tongue to better uses.

You were too smart, too sassy, too sexy—and far too much like Satoru.

A dangerous combination that gnawed at Suguru's sensibilities, especially when every throb of his unattended member reminded him that you were the cause. It was more than he could bear—so, Suguru resolved to even the score.

You had to be dealt with lest you destroy him entirely.

Should be any minute now.This particular bathhouse on the compound was for sorcerers only and every member of his family had a scheduled time to use it.

Of course this just so happened to be your hour to bathe.

*CREEEAK*

Like clockwork you enter the onsen, sliding open the heavy wooden door and entering the bath.

Obscuring your vision, steam rises in soft clouds, condensing on the wooden ceiling and blurring the perimeter of the bath, not allowing you to see that it was already occupied.

Thinking nothing is amiss, you walk in completely bare with your tenugui towel draped over your arm. It’s not until you tentatively dip a toe into the water that Suguru clears his throat. "Ahem..."

The sudden sound startles you, and you trip, tumbling into the water with an ungraceful splash. Between the thick steam and the complete suppression of his cursed energy, you hadn’t seen Suguru at all—he caught you entirely off guard.

Drenched and gasping as you emerge to the surface, the presence of Suguru’s overwhelming cursed energy hits you all at once. It fills the room like a crushing wave, and you can’t stop the instinctual tremors that send ripples spreading through the water around you.

“G-Geto-sama!?”

Your entire body flushes with heat and as much as every nerve is screaming at you to flee, the quickest way to cover your nakedness was remain in the onsen.

Shit, did the bath schedules change and you had no idea?!

The urgency in which you practically dove back under the water, only the tip of your nose visible has Suguru chuckling.

“Now, now, you can cut the shy act, princess. There's no one for you to perform for here—tsk, a devious brat like you couldn’t possibly be so flighty.”

Glaring at him through the steamy mist, your cheeks burn with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. Insults and pet names swirl in your head as you try to take stock of your current predicament, searching for some semblance of composure.

But it’s impossible to ignore the weight of his gaze. You can feel it—piercing through the obscuring vapors and the milky mineral water as if they weren't even there.

“Hah?... m’not shy— or flighty for that matter! You just scared me a bit is all—I didn't think I'd have to be on my guard in the onsen!”

In an act of defiance you sit up fully and remove your arms covering your chest. Your buoyant breasts rise to float in the water as you attempt to stop your fidgeting.

Suguru hums.

You can't see but you can feel his expression turn darker through the haze as if he is pleased he unsettles you so much.

“We're preparing for war, princess—you should always be on guard."

Suguru scolds you playfully, though the patronizing edge lingers like a teasing blade.

"Even from you?" Testing him, you slowly build your nerve back with the challenging question, his cockiness getting under your skin as it always does.

"In your case? Especially from me."

Suguru’s rich, sexy baritone drips with intent, sending chills racing down your spine and pooling deep in your core. Despite the soothing warmth of the onsen enveloping you,you are desperately on edge.

Never in your dreams did you think your casual teasing of him would ever push him this far. Even so, you can't bite back the sass that spills from your lips.

"So you admit you're a fraud? The self-proclaimed sorcerer messiah?"

The energy around Suguru crackles, and your sharp, audible breath betrays your shock. Suguru strains as he struggles to maintain his calm and keep the upper hand, the heat of his anger brewing through the water. Yet the power radiating from him is unmistakable—a silent warning that he’ll take control, one way or another.

"You came here for my protection, yet you more than anyone are most liable to undermine me. Your duplicitous nature could shift against my favor at any moment. If I didn't know better I'd think he'd sent you to mock me... ”

Your face frowns in confusion, unsure of who Suguru is referring to but you are left no time to ponder as he continues.

"Now come here brat, tell me why I shouldn't cast you out—hand you right over to the higher ups and be rid of you for good."

You freeze, chewing the inside of your cheek as you debate whether you should actually run. Suguru was no rat, you knew he wouldn't turn you in. Cast you out to fend for yourself? Perhaps. Deep down though, you know you wouldn’t get far if he decides to catch you so you remain. The cracks in Suguru’s easy going demeanor—the one he carefully maintains for his sorcerer family—are starting to show.

Revealing just how fucking intense Suguru really is underneath it all.

“—I said come here. Or if you’re scared you can flee, little dove—flee this bath, my cult—and my protection for good.”

The timber in Suguru’s voice makes your nostrils flare, a reaction he anticipated all too well. He knows you’ll play right into his hands—escape was never truly an option. Reverse psychology was his favorite tool against pride as childish as yours, just as it always worked with Satoru. So, of course you take the bait despite yourself.

Although you knew you should fear him—that you were gambling at a game far above your metaphorical buy-in—the thrill of it was too intoxicating to resist. The feeling akin to standing at the edge of a cliff, fully aware of the drop but unable to step back as the wind whips around you inching you forward.

Swallowing hard, you rise to your feet, forcing yourself to keep your hands steady at your sides. Every nerve in your body screams at you to look away, to break the tension, but you don’t. Instead, you move toward Suguru, your own steady gaze locked on his, refusing to flinch.

Approaching him, with each step closer, more of Suguru is revealed to you.

Your eyes shamelessly drink him in, unable to resist the temptation the cult leader, known as Geto Suguru exudes. Water droplets glide down his sculpted pecs, trailing over his abs and glistening off the sinewy muscles of his arms. Like a siren from mythology, Suguru’s slicked-back inky hair cascades over his broad, chiseled shoulders, pooling into the water around him, each strand seeming almost alive with its own allure.

There's no big mystery why he had so many people throwing themselves at his feet.

You blink hard, shaking yourself free from the allure of the beautiful siren-like man before you.

No, you’d never be one of them…right?

Your distracted thoughts keep you from noticing but Suguru is equally captivated by you. His predatory eyes sweep over your body, as if cataloging every detail of your curves to memory. You're sexier than he imagined under those sweaters you'd wear, hiding your perfect form from him. His cock pulses impatiently beneath the onsen waters, betraying his eagerness.

Suguru was secretly relieved you couldn’t see just how badly he wanted you at this moment—how badly he’d wanted you all month, for that matter. He’d gone through every stage of denial, convincing himself it was nothing—that you were nothing, before finally admitting the truth.

And now that he had successfully snared you he wasn’t going to deprive himself of you any longer.

“Stop there.”

Suguru’s commands are smooth and unwavering.

“Stand here.”

The spot he indicates is directly between his legs.

You swallow hard.

With your towel gone and the water receding in the shallow area of the onsen where he sits, your bare pussy is now at eye level with Suguru. His piercing scrutiny makes it impossible to remain still, every nerve in your body on alert. The longer he stares, lecherous and hungry, as if he might devour you whole, the quicker your breath hitches.

Your embarrassment slowly gives way to a simmering arousal you can’t control despite your growing annoyance for this man.

Suguru didn’t have to reach far at all to touch you and soon his fingers trailed featherlight touches up your inner thighs, sending tingles straight into your dripping pussy as you tried to remain still and pretend it's the water from the onsen and not from your cunt glistening on your thighs.

Like Suguru already knows how wet you are for him, his lustful gaze intensifies, smirk carving deeper into his features like a predator savoring its prey.

“This 'et non nux novem' is complete bullshit. You know it, like I know it." The sensation of your soft, wet flesh beneath his fingertips has a fresh surge of heat coursing through him.

"But since we're the only two who know the truth and you wish to stay under my protection, you’ll just have to take responsibility for the rest of the month—can you do that?”

You're breathless from his touch continuing to explore around your hips and upper thighs. Trying to resist leaning into his touch your words are clumsy as they spill out of you.

“Mmm…w-what about maintaining s-s-solidarity?”

Suguru brings you in, muscular arms wrapping around your waist deviously.

“Fuck solidarity, princess.”

You’d think you'd giggle at that if he hadn’t just murmured those words into your tummy. Suguru's warm breath dips into your navel and your tummy contracts—jailed in his strong grasp there is no running away from him now.

Yet his smooth words continue, as if he fully expects your obedient compliance.

“Will you be my devout, good lil' slut then, hm?”

You chewed your inner cheek.

Suguru’s attractiveness was never lost on you, but you saw him as an arrogant asshole who'd on top of that forever seems so distant. Plus, he always seemed irritated by your presence which is why you'd started the prank in the first place.

All of this only made his sudden attention now even more disarming.

You look away, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to mask your flushed expression. The gesture, meant to appear casual, only makes you seem shyer and more vulnerable, offering him an even softer view of you. You know you need to pull it together, but your bravado is slipping, painfully exposing your awkwardness as you grow increasingly pliable under his touch.

“Hm, does this bratty princess pussy think she's too good to serve?”

A startled squeak escapes you as Suguru’s hands resume their practiced exploration of your body. Agile fingers find your breasts as Suguru pinches your hardened nipples, rolling and pulling your sensitive buds firmly. The motions are like a silent punishment for the answer you haven’t even given yet—delivering molten pleasure to burn in your core.

“Answer me, slutty girl before I finally lose my patience with you.”

Suguru's fingers trace their descent back down your body to spread greedily over the soft curve of your ass. A sharp crack follows as his hand lands on your dampened skin, the sting radiating through you and snapping your gaze back to meet his. You whimper, the sound pitiful and almost apologetic, as his fingers knead and caress the tender flesh in the aftermath, leaving you trembling. Every touch is a reminder that you belong to him—every inch of you subject to the pleasure and pain he so expertly delivers.

“I-I'm not your s-servant...”

You weren’t convincing at all and the sight of your luscious body quivering in his hands has Suguru all the more eager to have you submit to him—to have you utterly threadbare and unraveling before him.

"Eh, are you not though?"

Expression darkened with intent, Suguru face is mere centimeters from your core as he inhales the intoxicating, sweet scent of your dewy pussy. His sultry eyes lock with yours looking up at you as if asking for your consent, your admission of desperation—your absolute obedience.

"Would you want to be?"

Fuck, the man was too deviously sexy to resist.The debauched scene made your entire body shudder, a needy moan falling from your lips as you instinctively angle your hips toward his hot awaiting mouth.

“...hnn—p-pleaseee, G-Geto-sama.”

However, just as you were certain he’d taste you, Suguru pulls back. His pretty, thin lips parting only to curl into a taunting smile.

“Oh? Now she begs. No, only my good, devout slut gets my mouth, princess. You'll have to do better than that if you want it.”

Your face crumples but all thoughts of protest vanish the moment the pads of his fingers brush lightly across your clit, now engorged and peaking through your folds. Working your tingly nub in slow, agonizing circles with his knuckles, while his thumb mirrored the rhythm against your hip.

The dual sensations has your thighs quivering, as delicate mewls spill from your lips uncontrollably—a clear sign to Suguru that it's been far too long since you’ve had a proper fuck.

“So sensitive… so responsive for a slut claiming not to be my servant.”

Suguru’s whole demeanor is voice saturated with amusement, but you felt so good and he looks so sinfully erotic with his hand in your folds, you don’t even care now that he is toying with you.

“You’ve been non nux for a long while now, haven’t you, princess? Wanting the rest of us to suffer with you, hm?”

You hated his smug ass but you let out an affirmative sigh despite yourself, drawing a chuckle from him.

Suguru sees it immediately—the way your body shakes, touch-starved and desperate for the attention he’s lavishing on you. His long finger glides through your slick, webbing the gossamer of your arousal against his thumb before sinking it into your pussy with deliberate precision.

Honeyed in your creamy nectar, his thick digit tows through every inch of your pretty peach.

“So fucking wet for me…this is why you wanted my attention, isn't that right, brat?”

Suguru slips a second long finger into your gooey core, the stretch immediately overwhelming—his one finger easily the size of two of yours. But you’re too lost in your own loud moans to notice Suguru’s low hiss, he's utterly caught off guard by the way your walls clamp down on him so fiercely.

Driving into your slick gummy walls harder and faster your cunt eagerly slobbers around his fingers as they reach into the very depths of your core—now zoning in on the firm, spongy spot within you.

Desperately, you fall forward and your pretty manicured nails puncture his shoulder as a third finger enters you.

Suguru typically doesn’t let anyone touch him so freely—yet he can’t bring himself to push you away. Watching you struggle to hold yourself together only made him more determined to break you completely, now with his fingers—then with his cock.

Resolved, Suguru hooks your leg over his other shoulder, forcing your body to open to him. Leaning-in Suguru gifts you steady, sloppy kisses up your inner thigh, stopping occasionally to languidly suction your plump flesh enough to leave a bruise—all in sharp contrast to the furious pace of his fingers pumping inside your dripping cunt.

Too skilled at siphoning out your juices, your creamy wetness slicks down his entire forearm to his elbow and then into the onsen as he works you over.

“Shiiiit—Geto-sa—MAAAH!”

Your free hand instinctively dives into his hair, tugging at his long raven strands at his scalp. Suguru’s eyes flare and he growls a warning in his throat at your audacity. But it's all easily forgiven, as you so beautifully slutted out before him—your head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as your serpentine hips meet the urgent plunge of his fingers grazing your womb.

Picking up his pace, Suguru’s fingers move deeper and faster. Your cries grow louder, unrestrained, your tongue hanging out as a strange immeasurable pressure builds under your tummy.

“NNNNGHH...m’no moreee—stawp—m’gonna pee in the onsennnn, pleaseeepleaseee!”

Your voice is distraught but your nails dig deeper into the flesh of his scalp and shoulder and your hips never stop rolling to meet his fingers.

What a perfect whore you’ve become for him.

“Tsk, silly slut—don't you know that's not pee princess? So don’t you dare hold back—show me how dirty this pretty lil' pussy can get grasping onto me like she's worshiping my fingers..."

Suguru sinks his teeth into the thick meat of your thigh, the bite leaving deep impressions in your soft tender flesh. The overwhelming buzz of opposing sensations is blinding to the point you’re soon spraying milky fluids all over his arms, chest and face.

Your eyes lodge into your skull as your orgasm peaks and crashes over you. Buckling forward as your legs become goo, yet Suguru's grip on you is steady as he pulls his fingers from your still spasming pussy. Without hesitation Suguru licks them clean, savoring the remnants of your release on them—it's a pity so much of it ended up in the onsen and not in his mouth.

Fuck— you’re so sweet on his tongue Suguru regretted not tasting you fully and robbing himself of your flavor. He had half the mind to feast on you now but the incessant throbbing of his long ignored cock needed to be dealt with first.

Wrecked from his fingers alone, your mind is hazy as the lingering pleasure clouds your thoughts. You barely register Suguru’s movements as he guides your body—lowering you until your soft tits press firmly against his hard chest. Your knees settle on either side of his thighs, framing him as he swallows your plump hips in his large grip under the warm bath water.

“Breathe.”

Suguru murmurs softly into your temple, his voice deep and commanding, yet the instruction doesn't reach you in your dazed state. It’s not until the bulbous head of his cock pushes its way past your folds that the meaning sinks in—just as he thrusts upward, seating you completely onto him in one swift motion.

Immediately your body shudders, stretched and filled to the hilt. Every inch of Suguru bullies its way into your guts, shifting them forcibly creating space for his girthy intrusion.

You're completely at his mercy.

Simultaneously your voice croaks while Suguru releases a loud groan—fuck you're tight. Even with his preparation, the sheer size of him tearing through your walls has you clenching like a vice. Wrapping your trembling arms around his neck, you struggle to breathe, the sensation so intense it’s as if he’s actually breached your womb.

The heat inside you soon burns hotter than the onsen's steaming waters, and Suguru swears under his breath trying not to cum from how tightly your cunt is strangling his cock. Suguru figures he’s the biggest you’d ever taken but you’d surely melt his dick off if you didn’t ease up.

You hiccup, tears streaking your puffy cheeks as his large palm rubs soothing circles on your lower back, the other guiding you up and down his thick shaft in slow, deliberate movements. The blend of pain and pleasure blurs together, overwhelming your senses.

“NGHHH, too m-much, S-Sugu—so deep!”

Babbling into the crook of his neck, your voice cracks as you plead with him.

“Come on, princess…”

Suguru softly chuckles, but when your sobs turn into full-body tremors, your nails digging into his back with desperate intensity, he pauses.

Gently pulling you from his neck, Suguru examines the flush spreading across your body. The heat from the water and Suguru become too much and you can barely keep your head up as it rolls back from dizziness, your consciousness fading.

Suguru sighs, brushing damp hair from your face.

“What’s wrong, brat? You’re shaking and clenching like some—”

Suguru stops mid-sentence as realization strikes. Your shyness, your sensitivity, hell even the awkward veil of confidence that was quickly revealed as soon as he pulled your card a lil.

Gripping your face, you wince as his sharp gaze locks on yours.

“Answer me truthfully, girl— are you a virgin?”

“...n-not anymore.”

Although weakened, your voice is still laced with a trace of attitude that makes Suguru snort despite himself.

Fuck. He should’ve known.

As troublesome as you are, he’d pegged you for a slut. Instead, you were an innocent dove—still troublesome, but innocent nonetheless.

With a quiet curse, Suguru pulls out of you and the water in one fluid motion. Droplets cascade off your bodies as he gently lays you onto the warmed stone floor beside the onsen.

Grabbing a cool cloth from a nearby bucket, he dabs your forehead, then across the rest of your body to cool you. A soft sigh escapes you as the chill seeps into your heated skin, soothing the burn of exertion.

When he wipes the rest of your body, his gaze catches on the streaks of red staining his cock and your thighs. A flicker of guilt flashes across his face, and he silently berates himself. Had he known, he would’ve approached this with a bit more tact.

Yet when your trembling hand grabs his bicep, vulnerable and pleading, his control crumbles.

“N-No, no, p-please… d-don’t stop now…” Voice breaking, as it stammers under the weight of your desperation.

You’re sore, yes, but the emptiness between your legs burns hotter, the ache of arousal far outweighing any lingering discomfort now that the rest of your body has cooled from the bath.

Suguru’s lips curl into a slanted, tight-eyed grin.

So you did want to be corrupted by him after all?

He could oblige you in that.

Wasting no time, Suguru is hovering over you. Sinking back into your heat with care, you feel every thick, veined inch stretching you open, plunging so deep it sets your walls ablaze.

Your head tilts back as your spine arches, and a sudden gush of slick erupts from your pussy, heavy and uncontrollable. The rush of fluids splashes between you, nearly forcing Suguru’s cock out as your walls quake violently around him. He growls, bracing you against the floor to steady your trembling body.

Broken whines spill from your lips from Suguru wrapping a hand possessively around your throat, his grip grounding you as his arrogance seeps through in a low, rumbling chuckle against your ear.

“Shit princess—you’re squirting like a goddamn faucet on my cock—wetter than the onsen. Can’t even take a lil’ dick without soaking us both? What a slutty virgin...”

The deep vibrations of his words ripple down your spine, intensifying the way your pussy clenches around his cock. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, heels digging into his hips in a desperate attempt to keep him buried deep inside you.

However, Suguru doesn’t allow it for long. With a deliberate shift, he changes positions—he hooks his arms under your knees, folding you in half as he presses them to your shoulders. The new angle draws a whimper from your lips, allowing him to go much deeper as he drags the ridges of his girth along your walls, savoring every inch of your snug fluttering cunt.

Stuffed full of him again, Suguru moves in measured strokes. The initial sting of his size gradually melts into a searing arousal, coiling deep in your belly when Suguru flicks figure 8 circles on your clit.

"Don't run from it princess...." Suguru coos a warning to you when your small hands slip over his abs to slow the pace of his hips. Your cute face scrunches up, fueling his hunger for you.

Yet it's the moment your hips start to squirm uncoordinatedly, desperate to meet his rhythm, he knows you’ve adjusted.

That’s when Suguru really lets go.

His cock slams into you with relentless force and leaves you clinging to him for dear life while your screams echoing throughout the bathhouse. Suguru doesn't care if anyone outside can hear, if anything he wants them to, it be a lewd testament to how good he was fucking you.

The feral slaps of his balls against your ass also grow louder as his pace quickens, grinding his hip into you harder, deeper, and more wildly with every thrust. The raw, primal sound of your bodies colliding fills the air, matched only by your shared moans and the filthy, wet squelches of your cunt greedily pulling him in and forming a creamy ring around his base.

“HNNNG—AH! Feels s’gud, c-cock s’gud, pleasepleaseplease fuckmefuckmefuckme, Sugu!”

Suguru’s hips stutter for a brief second, your voice is raw with need as you coo his name. Your inexperienced virgin pussy having the gall to give him any demands like he's the one submitting to you.

How did it end up like this?

“Am I not fucking you, slutty brat?!”

Irritation rumbles deep in Suguru’s chest, more at himself than at you. The intense urge to please you grates against his belief that, as his follower, it is you who should be working to satisfy him. Yet his body betrays him, his loins burning with the undeniable truth that he's addicted to you now. Picking up inhuman speed, sweat dripping off his brow, Suguru drills into you, determined to coax more of your silky squirt from your body.

“OOO—OH FUUUU—CK! Y-Yessss, Geto-samaaaah!”

The glare Suguru gives you is piercing as his hand leaves your clit and weaves around your throat in an instant.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare call me that when you’re moaning under me like a whore and commanding me to fuck you.”

Bullying into you harder, your back arches off the stone floor as pure euphoria floods your senses.

“It's Suguru to you when I'm fucking you dumb, princess." You nod your head frantically, nails raking welts along his back. "If you understand, then say it—you had enough audacity to use it once before—now I want my slutty brat to moan it for me loud enough for every monkey in this compound to know you’re my whore.”

Screaming it like a mantra as you cum again once more splashing squirt and fluids that gather into a puddle on the stone beneath you, flowing back into the onsen.

Hearing his name leave your lips so desperately has Suguru releasing buckets inside you—an ungodly amount of cum spurting into your abused lil' cunt. The obscene sound of it bubbling and spilling out accompanies each additional plow of his hips, on a mission to bury as much of it inside you as possible.

The heat, the overwhelming fullness—it leaves your body shuddering, your limbs weak and boneless against him as he uses you like a fleshlight riding out his remaining waves.

You are unsure how long you laid there with him collapsed on top of you but as the fog of euphoria begins to dissipate, your pussy aching, you glance up to find Suguru staring down at you.

His expression is smug, victorious, as if he’d claimed some grand prize and you pout.

Your plan to cuck Suguru for an entire month failed spectacularly!

Suguru doesn't need to say anything as the loss is written all over your face. Yet he still rubs it in a bit more with a chaste kiss placed delicately on your cute pouty lips.

“I-I still think you’re full of shit y-you know, Sugu.”

You exhale a shaky breath of defeat, your voice raspy and chest rising and falling in uneven puffs.

Sucking his teeth in amusement, Suguru’s smirk hasn’t left him yet.

“Yeah, and now you’re full of me—funny how life comes at you fast, huh princess?”

Your scoffs quickly turn into soft goans as Suguru presses down on your belly. The pressure on your womb makes you squirm beneath him as your cunt squelches out more of his cum, unintentionally making him hard inside you again with the urge to fill you until you are walking out of her limping and leaking his cum in puddles.

“Hm, now my devout lil' slut—shall I continue to breed your bratty not-so virgin pussy in honor of ‘et non nux novem’?”

𝐚/𝐧: next non-queued post (comment on m.list for tag) nanami, kento

okay i gotta say i ate this. had to even stop a few times and calm myself down while i was editing this thats why this was so delayed lol. reblog and comment please if this also took yall places dkjcajndkjsh

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edlucavalden · 3 months ago

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Someone said thsi b4 but the true kabru (and mithrun TBH) litmus test is to see what their opinion is with milsiril.

Am once again thinking about Milsiril and the general fandom impression of her, it's fascinating

#also can i just say i hate it whenever i see ppl talk about how either a) shes a racist white person who doesnt see her kids as ppl or #b) you guys are villanizing her too much!!! she did some bad things BUT shes also a victim!!!#like. guys. two things can be true at once yk.#i dont like the villification of milsiril #bc its heavily rooted with not only misogony. but also a poor understanding of racial issues and disability discrimination.#aka racism and ablism too #like seriously if you guys have to interpret milsiril to be a “white woman who sees her poc kids as objects” to comprehend the racism in he #r story you have such a shallow understanding of race.#why shallow? bc its the idea that racism is a moralistic evil that should be stopped no matter what. which is a bad take on racism #since its dumbing such an abstract concept down #YES milsiril can genuinely love hee kids like a true mother would #and YES a part of her can also have a racial disconnect to her kids in a negative way #does that make her an evil sinester person by having any form of racial bigotry to her kids? no.#but her racial bigotry also harms her kids. despite that #ALL OF THESE STATMENTS CAN COEXIST. SERIOUSLY.#this conversation is heavily rooted to the bastardization of racism. which is true it is bad—but doimg so exesiveely can cause the concept #of race as a whole to be disregarded. whcih is. bad. its a slippey slope. thays why its so important to acknowledge it.#ok that parts alittle off topic IM VERY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT THIS #i think im ranting to kuch in the tags. SORRY SOTTYBILM STOP.#rb

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hiraethwrote · 3 months ago

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THE HEART GROWS FONDER

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

Kento was a knowledgeable man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi there.”

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

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

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

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

Friend? Had he heard you right?

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

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

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

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

“Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you were 16, you nearly caved.

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

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

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

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

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

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

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

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

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

It wasn’t.

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

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

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

Still neither of you confessed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kento would later eat those words.

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But graduation day came and time was up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

Ask me to come with you.

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

Come with me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kento was supposed to share his life with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Him? That was her boyfriend?”

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

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

He was here. He was actually here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds about right.”

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

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

“Is there something to be jealous of?”

“You tell me.”

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

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

“Why are you here?”

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

“I’m coming back.”

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

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please.

You felt his breath.

Don’t make me wait any longer.

Sparks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry.”

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

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

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

“You used to be nice.”

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

“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.

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

“Were you always this boring?”

“Most definitely.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you pay for it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you at home.”

“I’ll have dinner ready.”

“God, I love you.”

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

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

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

“I love you too.”

tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru

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

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

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heritageposts · 10 months ago

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By Ahmad Ibsais, First generation Palestinian American and law student.

I do not blame Benjamin Netanyahu. I do not blame the Israeli prime minister for what is happening to my people. I do not blame him today, as Israeli bombs destroy every corner of Gaza, and children die under the rubble. I did not blame him back in 2013, when I had to watch the slaughter of my people in Gaza on the evening news, either. My mother did not blame him when snipers perched on rooftops shot at her as she tried to make her way to work in the West Bank. My grandfather, God rest his soul, did not blame him as he died without ever returning to the land settlers stole from him in the 1980s, either. For me, for my family, for my people, what we are witnessing in Palestine today is not “Netanyahu’s war”. It is not his occupation. He is nothing but another cog in the relentless war machine that is Israel. Yet if you were to ask senators Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren, the supposed champions of Palestinian rights and progressive humanitarianism in the United States, everything that has happened to us in the past 75 years, and everything that is happening to us today, can be blamed on one man, and one man alone: Netanyahu. Sanders insistently calls the ongoing Israeli assault on Gaza “Netanyahu’s war”, and demands that the US “not give Netanyahu another nickel”. Meanwhile, Warren denounces “Netanyahu’s failed leadership” as she calls for a ceasefire. For these progressive senators, the cause of all the pain and suffering in Palestine is clear: a far-right, hawkish prime minister hell-bent on continuing a conflict that keeps him in power. Sure, Netanyahu is evil. Sure, he committed countless crimes against Palestinians and against humanity, throughout his long career. Sure, he is continuing to fuel the carnage in Gaza today in part for his own political survival. And he should be held accountable for everything he has said and done that caused harm and pain to my people. But the racism, extremism and genocidal intent that is on display in Gaza and across the occupied Palestinian territory today cannot and should not be blamed on Netanyahu alone. Blaming Israel’s blatant human rights abuses, disregard for international law, and open celebration of war crimes on Netanyahu alone is nothing but a coping mechanism for liberals like Sanders and Warren. By blaming Netanyahu for the suffering and oppression of the Palestinian people, past and present, they keep alive the lie that Israel was built on progressive ideals, rather than ethnic cleansing. By blaming Netanyahu, they whitewash their seemingly unconditional support for a state blatantly committing war crimes and crimes against humanity. By blaming Netanyahu, and casting Israel as a progressive, well-meaning state that would respect international humanitarian law but is currently taken over by a bad leader, they are absolving themselves – and the US at large – of complicity in Israel’s many war crimes.

. . . continues on Al Jazeera (7 Mar 2024)

#free palestine #palestine #israel #gaza #benjamin netanyahu

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thewritetofreespeech · 6 months ago

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Cooler Heads Will Prevail

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: it's too hot to do anything in the States. Except apparently write Aemond x Reader smut about how it's too hot.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex outdoors, aemond speaking High Valyrian cause it's sexy, Vhagar being sassy in the background.

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“Gods how can you stand to wear that?”

You felt ten times hotter just looking at your husband, dressed in his traditional black & leathers, as he sat next to you while you baked in this heat. Even with all the windows and curtains open, dressed in the thinnest dress that modesty could cling to, and servants fanning you both like Dornish aristocracy, you still felt like you were melting.

“It is all a matter of perspective, my dear wife.” Aemond replied. Not looking up from his book. “And will power.”

You groan and drop your own book, spreading out as far as your limbs would go on the chaise. You despised these hot summers. Everything was hot. Everything you touched, including yourself, was sticky. You felt like every breath was drawing in more hot air, which in turn made you hotter, and considerably cranky. It was too hot to do anything.

Aemond glanced up at you with his good eye, then closed his books. The servants scatter when the prince stood. Taking away what little precious, if fruitless, relief you had. “Are you really that miserable?” He asked, leaning over you with one arm pressed against the back of the chaise.

“Just look at me.”

“I am.” His mouth coiled into a smirk as he leaned further down to kiss you.

But you turn your head away with an unsatisfied huff. “It’s too hot.” Though you loved Aemond unconditionally, apparently it had its limits. He’d have to wait until the sun went down, at the very least, before you would consider touching him.

The prince huffed. “Fine. Get up.”

You didn’t have time to ask Aemond why before he was grabbing your hand and hoisting you to your feet. Dragging you along behind him as you tried to keep up with his impressive gait thanks to those long legs.

Your protests & questions stopped halfway through your journey, and Aemond finally let your hand go once the two of you reached the Dragonpit. Vhagar’s indominable frame taking up most of the space a lotted to her as she coolly acknowledged her rider then settled back down. “What are we doing here?”

“Leaving the city.” Aemond was already mounting Vhagar. Settled into her saddle before he reached out to you with his hand.

You often dreamed of being a dragon rider. To be up in the skies. To command giants. But you didn’t have the blood for it. Instead, you just admired them from afar. “I thought you said Vhagar didn’t like secondary riders.”

“Vhagar does not like any rider but me.” He clarified. “But she will not harm you. Trust me.”

You did trust Aemond. Still, you glance over to Vhagar, looking into her giant eye for permission, who looked back at you for a long moment before she blinked with her inner lid and turned her gaze from you. You took that as a yes and grabbed Aemond’s hand.

He hoisted you up into the saddle with ease. Seating you in front of him. His legs on either side of you as he fastened you both to the harness before taking the reins. “sōvēs Vhagar.”

The dragon rose from her seat. Seeming annoyed about it, but you couldn’t be sure. She took three long strides before her wings were aloft and you were up in the air. You close your eyes tight. Gripping Aemon’s thighs on either side as you felt your stomach try to drop all the way back to the ground. “Open your eyes.” Aemond’s voice brushed against your ear, louder than the rushing air around you. You do as he says. With one at first, then opening both to see the beautiful bright sky around you and white, fluffy clouds. It was breath taking.

You aren’t brave enough to look down, but after a while Aemond shouted, “tegot Vhagar,” and the dragon circled around a patch of Earth before gracefully hurling itself towards it.

When you landed Aemond undid your bindings and jumped down. He held his arms out towards you, waiting for you to jump, and easily caught you when you fell into his open arms. “Where are we Aemond?”

The prince shrugged, “somewhere North.” That was all he said before he stalked off into the woods past the clearing.

You look around and admire the beauty of the small forest, before you follow after your husband. Vhagar seemed fine on her own to resume her nap while you both went on your walk to wherever Aemond was going. “Aemond, what are we doing here?”

“You said you were hot.” He told you. In a tone that implied ‘we just talked about this’ as he cut through the path.

“Yes. But why are we here?” It was significantly cooler, but still summer. The balminess of the city had been replaced with the natural humidity of the trees. One evil for a lesser one.

Aemond didn’t answer this time and instead pushed past the last of the greenery to reveal a second clearing. Sun dappled, with trees and flowers circling a natural freshwater pond, in a perfect idyllic scene. “Gods…It’s beautiful.”

“We did not come all this way just to look at it.”

You turn to Aemond to see him already unbuttoning his jerkin. “You cannot be serious.” Apparently, he was, as he was already tossing his jerkin aside and pulling off his under tunic. “Aemond?? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Exactly. No one will find us.” His belt, boots, and pants quickly made it into the pile. His small clothes next. Then finally his eye patch. “Are you coming or not?” You stare at Aemond, a little slack jawed, as he stood there completely naked. As if you were the crazy one for not joining him.

Fingers carefully come up to your lacings. Fumbling with the strings as your embarrassment makes the digits unable to cooperate properly. Aemond was right, no one would see you. But this was still the first time you had been naked ‘in public’. Ladies did not go around the world in the nude. Although, apparently, a Targaryen’s woman did.

Aemond grinned as he watched you let loose your dress, then walked backwards a few paces before he turned and walked over to one of the rocks. Standing on it, like some Valyrian statue, before he jumped in. You were not nearly as brave, and shyly stepped into the water from its calm shore with your hands protecting your modesty.

The water was like ice on your overheated skin, but it felt so good! You let out a sigh and relax. Sinking neck deep into the water as you pulled your knees to your chest to float. “Feeling better?” You turn to look at Aemond as he swam up to you. His long hair floating behind him like a silver net. Looking more triton than dragon at the moment. You offer him a soft smile and nod.

The prince smiled back. Then he floated to his center before he stood, able to reach the bottom and have the water just barely brush past his navel. “Can I kiss you now?”

You looked up at Aemond, who was looking back down at you, waiting for an answer. Your smile broadens and you release your knees to stand on your own feet as well. The water just barely kissing your breasts in comparison. “Yes Aemond, you can kiss me.”

He looked so pleased. As if all this effort was worth it as he took your chin in his fingers to tilt your lips to his. You moan at the first contact of his tongue against yours. Hells…how long had it been since you kissed him properly.

You had not been joking when you said it was too hot to do anything. That included laying with your husband. Though you shared the same bed, the most you had done for the past weeks was brief kisses & touches before shunting off to your separate corners of the mattress. Desperate not to add anymore heat to your person.

Now that you were cooled off, a renewed heat was swelling up inside you. “Aemond…”

The man in question pulled back just a hair’s breadth to look at you. The hand once tilting up your chin now brushing water droplets from your cheek. “I have missed you, issa jorrāelagon.”

“I know.” And you felt guilty for that. “I’ve missed you too.” Together seperately had been the way things had been with this heat. But now you were somewhere cool, calm, and secluded with your husband.

You latch on to Aemond like a drowning man. His body your life raft. His kiss your air. He pulled you in with equal fervor and you felt his longing press against your belly. Hot and hard, despite the cold water. “Aemond…” You gasp again. Intentionally brushing against him to feel more of his manhood and eager to have not against your belly but inside it. “Please…”

The prince growled and kissed you again. His teeth nipping possessively at your lips this time, before he pulled you into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Carrying you out of the water with ease and laying you on the soft grass that would be your marriage bed for the afternoon.

Aemond continued to kiss you. Letting you go for a moment before peppering your lips, face, and neck with more kisses. As if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with you. “You should be like this at all times.”

“Underneath you?” You respond cheekily.

“Naked.” He corrected. Your head tipping back as his arm slipped betwixt you and his fingers began toying with your sex. “You wouldn’t be so hot. And we would no longer have to deal with those ridiculous laces.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate such a ‘casual’ manner of dress at court.” You gasp sharply as two of Aemond’s fingers suddenly slipped inside you. Clearly a diversion in the conversation as he doesn’t want to talk about his mother right now.

“Hmmm…it is probably for the best. I’d gouge out the eye of any man who would look at you besides me. Then I would no longer be unique.”

“Certainly less fashionable.” Another sharp gasp escapes you as Aemond’s fingers curled up inside you against that spot that made you see stars. Silently telling you that if you didn’t stop with the cheek you were going to get it. ‘Good’ you thought.

His fingers continued to work you open as his mouth swallowed your cries. “Aemond!” You shouted when his thumb brushed against your pearl. Pushing at his shoulders while your legs shook at the intense feeling, but he wouldn’t stop. He let you go long enough to let your climax cry come out clearly. Loud and pure. Birds fluttering off in the distance that were startled by the sound.

“You’re so beautiful when you quake for me.”

“Only you.”

Your hand came up to stroke his face. Hard lines. Soft expression. Your fingertip brushes against just the end of his scar before trailing down to flick his bottom lip. Red and swollen from your kissing. Vibrant against his cool, alabaster skin. Perfect.

“Make me quake for you again my love.” Your legs splayed wide for him. Making space for him and his cock in your drooling cunt.

Aemond doesn’t have to be told anything twice and he descended on you. Lining up his cock, pushing it inside you with coiled control just waiting to snap, waiting there until you were ready. You let him know you were ready by jutting your hips a bit. Your prince looking at your face for a moment to make sure before that coiled control snapped clean.

The two of you rut in the forest like animals. Grunting and moaning and the wet sound of slapping skin. Aemond spread your legs wider for him. Letting him thrust harder and deeper into you. Your head fell back against the damp grass. The sweet smell mixed with your sweat making you dizzy while the sharp climb towards a second climax made you lightheaded.

You will your eyes open to look at Aemond. His eye fixed only on you. Almost completely black like the stories portrayed him. Black enough that it looked as though it had bled into his sapphire. But this was not the eyes of a monster, but a beast. Your beast. Your one and only, as this look as just for you.

“A-Aemond!” You shout again. Fingers clenched in his wet tresses. Whole body shaking around him this time. Aemond’s teeth clenched to the point they look like they might break before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His own hips stuttered as his warmth filled you up.

The two of you laid there for a moment. Catching your breath. Sated in one another until Aemond likely feels he’s too heavy for you and rolls off you to the side. “We should head back.”

You turn your head to look at him. Wounded. Did it have to be right now? “The sun will be setting soon. It will not be as hot upon our return.”

You look back up at the sky and indeed see the shadows had gotten longer since your arrival. “Must we?”

Aemond chuckled at your plea. Rolling back over to your side to coil his body around you like a serpent. Head on your shoulder. You know he had missed this almost as much as the other. “Not right now.” He agreed. “But soon. We can come back whenever you’d like though.”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed again.

“Whenever you’d like.”

The two of you bask in the moment and beautiful scenery for a little while longer. Enjoying the cool and the quite before you had to return to the hot and the mayhem. You dress in silence. Then Aemond walked you both back down the path towards his dragon. Vhagar not seeming to notice one way or the other that you’ve been gone.

The heat hits you instantly once you break the perimeter of the city. Cooler than before but still sweltering. “I’m going to take a cool bath before bed.” You tell your prince as he gave his dragon a few goodbye pet before he left her for the day. “Care to join me?”

Only one thing could pull Aemond’s attention away from his dragon, and he turned to look over his shoulder at you with a smug grin. “Missing me already, issa jorrāelagon.”

“Oh yes.” You playfully agree as you walk backwards when Aemond came close. “I don’t know. Something about dragon riding puts me in the mood for….‘dragon riding’.”

The true rider grinned and closed the gap between you with quick ease. “Why do you think I seem never to want to keep my hands off you?” He pulled you in for a new kiss. Passionate, yes, but not nearly as fierce as before. You were back in the walls. Back in your cages. You had to be restrained lest other people talked. Because gods forbid a man & a wife actually fancied each other. He let you go and it was your turn to lead Aemond by the hand.

The weather was hot. But summer would eventually break. By the time winter came you intended to know all sorts of new ways to keep warm.

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