#but.....i am notoriously weak | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 1 month ago

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#BLOODLINE! s. ryōmen + c. kamo

☆ sum. when they’re both 10s but they’re also vampires. hungry blood-thirsty vampires who’ll stop at nothing to claim you. with how sweet you taste though, maybe humans aren’t so bad after all.

wc. 7.8k

warnings. fem! reader, thrēesomes, vampires! sukuna + choso, pwp, amateur's take on vampires, unprotected, cowgirl dp, manhandling, spīt-roasting, biting, dumbification, size kinks, fighting over you, brēeding kink, mentions of bloōd, implied marathons, fīngering, squīrting, pussydrunk men, cunnīlingus, hair pulling, choking, mistress kink, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist!

this was crazy - no, this was insane.

not everyday do you have a century plus old vampire between your legs — a vampire who you were actually supposed to exterminate for a pricey reward that was held over his head. both heads. but oh, you were so screwed. not even three days in of getting your official vampire hunter license and you already failed.

rule number one stupid girl: never fuck the vampire. rule number two: never fuck the vampires, plural.

but, you had a scent on you. an alluring fresh scent that made the sukuna ryomen fall weak to his knees. the fragrant—whatever it was smelled very lush with a sprinkled spice of vanilla. it irked him badly, and what irked him the most was the simple fact that he was feeling quite . . parched.

he’s starved, and it’s been a while since he’s had a quenched thirst and satisfied appetite. vampires usually had it rough—especially sukuna, because he’d usually spend most of his years hibernating, and he could live without blood . . for a certain amount of years before he comes well, feral.

but that all changed until you came along, and long story short—here you were sprawled out over his throne with your legs wide open.

“woman,” he snarls, buried right between your thighs. sable honed claws gingerly caress against your skin before his long tongue drags itself out of your pudgy folds. “spread your cunt f’r me before i bite it off.”

“what if i’m into that?” you sheepishly hum, feeling a tear of sweat trickle down your quirked brow. but right as you let off your cheeky remark, a big hand swats at your sopping entrance hard, earning a whimper from your mouth. so wet, your squelches ring through his rusted victorian walls.

sukuna snarls at you, crimson ruby eyes boring into your soul practically before with a sobbing creak, his chamber door opens. the hinges were whining as it unbolts and peeked out was whom you assumed to the other vampire, kamo choso.

you did research on them both—especially choso.

even though both of them were classified as dangerous notorious special grades with huge bounties placed on each of their heads dead or alive, choso was worth far more. you always did want to know why though.

he’s even prettier than person. choso was dressed in nothing but dark toned yet elegant dim clothing. both of their styles were strictly victorian-esque. choso’s hair was slightly matted and down, flowing past his tense shoulders. as unkempt dark strands went through his eyes, it created an attractive a shaggy wolf cut look. “oh,” he timidly murmurs, his eyes averting toward sukuna then at you.

a human,

his heart started to race and he could feel the inside of his mouth salivate with a minuscule amount of water. choso openly stares for a lengthy amount of seconds before nibbling on his tongue with his fangs. with the way he scoffs under his breath and how his body language grows stiff — you can tell, he’s jealous.

“am i .. interrupting, sukuna?”

sukuna groans internally, his tongue still attached to your swollen clit. you were close—he knew it from the way your breathing patterns started to grow irregular and you were struggling to stay still. as your feeble fingers resume to spread your soddened folds further apart for him, he slurps you clean, making all sorts of sloppy noises leave from his think pink lips. “mhm,” and he gives his comrade a side eye. “c’mere, choso. greet our new meal—eh, special guest.”

choso’s gaze never leaves yours, and as he tucks his head underneath his cape, he kneels down beside sukuna. “h- hi,” he swallows thickly, trailing his bloodshot irises that dramatically dilated each second he spent staring at your body.

god, were you pretty.

“hi ch— fuck,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s fangs delicately brush near your cunt. it almost tickled but you weren’t laughing, and your thighs were on the verge of snapping shut. choso stands there, watching as his own whetted fangs dig into his pouty bottom lip. “choso, do you wanna try too?”

“can i?” he blurts eagerly, but he gets flustered the second he sees your lips curving into a soft smile. after all, embarrassment was always his best friend.

choso’s kneeled right beside sukuna and he has an almost scowl marinating against his facial features. with a grumpy glower, he’s watching his partner act so greedy. the pink haired vampire’s got a chin that’s just streaming with slick and he can’t help but pout.

it’s probably been decades since he—since they encountered a vampire hunter, and now you were here. not only that, but choso was the entire opposite of sukuna. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a woman. “i mean . . is it okay, miss?”

sukuna snickers, briefly breaking his lips away before strumming a fat thumb down your drooling slit. “tch. such a wuss,” and his reddened gaze meets yours as a sly smile twists across the crevices of his lips. “excuse him. he’s a bit, heh, inexperienced.”

“that’s not—” it was, and choso lets off a cute frustrated huff but his demeanor softens the moment you claw a hand through his slightly matted wolfcut. dozens of loose tresses twirl between your fingers and he lets off a quiet purr, leaning into your touch. “mhm,” and he looks up at you—then at your pretty swollen cunt that was just pulsing second after second.

so pretty, it almost looks like a flower. easily akin to a vanilla orchid—he found himself about to drool the more he stared. choso was just millimeters away from a single taste and he couldn’t help but moan once he abruptly got a strong whiff of your candied balmy scent.

“it’s okay,” you murmur, trailing your middle finger down his tender scalp. sukuna’s right beside him, rolling his eyes whilst licking his spit-slick lips. as you remain slouched on sukuna’s primeval throne—your legs sprawl out just a bit wider and you bite your lip. “give it a little kiss.”

“y- yes, miss,” choso utters, and your eyes flicker down toward his lips. perfectly shaped—they have somewhat of an almost natural pout as they purse together—rosy pink and quivering in anticipation.

as he moves his face closer between your legs, you let off a gasp once his plump wet lips gradually smooch against your clit. “hng,” he groans, the sap of your own slick stringing against his mouth. choso can’t help but sneak his tongue down your pulsating clit for a better taste and oh, the way his eyes rolled back. “s- so good.”

sukuna clicks his tongue, growing impatient as his sharpened claws dig into the thin wooly fabric of his burgundy-black cloak.

“that’s it—good, yeah,” you softly coo out, tightening your grip against his head just a little.

choso had no clue what he was doing and it was adorable. his tongue was just as long as sukuna’s, mirroring the same forked-like shape. the softly spiky texture makes you squirm and writhe, feeling pleasurable twinges surge all throughout every inch of your body.

“fuuckk,” you gasp, feeling him suck against your clit. it’s overly sensitive, and he moans, feeling you throb right in his mouth. “mhm, suck there. right there, baby.”

baby, he wasn’t used to such words of affection. petnames, what you might call it. choso’s pointed ears cutely twitch and his nose wrinkles the second his sucking steadily intensifies. “mpmh,” and you can feel him taking a few seconds to sniff against your cunt once more.

“he gets off to being praised,” sukuna huskily jabbers, watching choso turn absolutely pussy drunk within seconds. you could tell just from his expressions alone. that sly yet sleazy grin compressing near the corners of his mouth, hooded eyes and drooling profusely from the sides of his mouth—

yeah, he was entirely weak. weak for you.

as his tongue slowly massages its way between the cracked slit of your pussy, he feels your grip in his hair tighten. “does he?” you utter, and you can hear a shuddering breath leave from choso’s mouth.

he swallows thickly again, wondering when the part was gonna come. the part where you’d finish your job, your mission—out of all the vampire hunters he’s stumbled across, he’s never been between one’s legs . . let alone being spared.

but he wasn’t complaining, not at all.

“mhm,” the older vampire sukuna grumbles, teasingly wrapping a hand around choso’s broad neck. choso moans from his touch too, and sukuna brushes a thumb down the valley of his sensitive scalp. “he can’t help it. praise him once and he’ll finish right on the spo—”

“s.. sukuna,” choso glares, still having a mouth full of your cunt.

the squelches you made from each succulent suckle was quite loud, constantly reverberating through the ancient chamber walls. but oh, your taste was simply divine. unlike any cuisine he’s ever tried. choso would rate your pussy five stars if he could.

you’re so wet — sopping a pretty cascading stream that flows down his chiseled chin to where he’s literally just drowning in your cunt. choso was a quick learner though, despite having little to no experience.

a raw breath rips out of your lungs once you feel your thighs grow weak. his tongue extends a bit inside of your cunt, curling it’s way around and in zigzags to make your toes curl in surprising rapture.

“f- fuck, like that,” you whimper out, and suddenly a dark silhouette overshadows you. slowly, your eyes look up to see sukuna standing right over you with a cunning toothy leer.

your eyes rove down his dark cloak that covers his body entirely, although you couldn’t help but want to see more.

like mentioned before—you’ve done your research about them both. as a vampire hunter, it was well, required.

sukuna had to be over a few thousand years old with choso not that far from behind. “silly, silly woman,” he tsks with a taunting head shake.

sukuna cups your chin and you moan once choso’s hooked nose starts to brush up and down against your clit.

you meet the eyes of a blood-thirsty vampire who’s got the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen. “you know,” his voice seductively pitches low, and the rough bass that smooths underneath his tone makes you feel a wave of butterflies swarm near the pit of your stomach. a thumb swipes against your glossed lips before he bends, getting right close to your face level. “usually, this is the part where you kill us, you know that, right?”

“i—know,” and for a second, you nearly let off a mewl once you feel choso’s fangs softly nip against your tender cunt.

you were throbbing heavily, and he’s just slobbering all over your entrance just to lap it right back up back with his tongue like the feral animal he was.

it was cute how conflicted you were — your eyes didn’t know where to look, whom to focus on, nothing. .

even so, as your back remains reclined back against the timber-made throne, your brows furrow. he’s right, moments ago you should have pulled out your stake or firearm, getting rid of them and collecting quite a delicious sum of bounty for both of their heads - dead or alive.

but, as the thought struck you — why, why didn’t you finish them off. what’s stopping you?

you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

besides, it was technically only the first few days of your new job and something internally was screaming at you that this probably wasn’t your right field of expertise anyway.

and the fact that the ‘target’ you were supposed to eliminate was propped up between your legs was . . something.

hell, maybe it was even a sign.

“oh, i see,” sukuna huffs, sliding a thumb across your pursed lips, wanting your pout crease more. cute. “you want more, that right, stupid girl?” a rough voice purrs out to you, and he can see the pout starting to form over your lips once you give him a slow nod. “yeah, yeah you do,” and he looks down at choso who’s got his pretty flapping lashes closed, sliding a hand inside of his cloak.

he’s groaning against your cunt, stroking himself off and whimpering against your folds that sobbed for more. sukuna cups your chin, pressing your lips together. “i don’t speak nod. use those words, tell me what you want.”

“y.. you both,” and it comes out like a lewd broken whisper. by this point, you were shameless. it’s almost as if you were in a dream—maybe even a fan fiction.

as those fatal words leave from your lips, your eyes roll back once choso’s continuing to slurp against your cunt - savoring each honeyed drop of your juices. he’s still on his knees as his pointed ears twitch from each whine and mewl that pours away from your lips.

sukuna groans under his breath, feeling himself get hard as he takes a few occasional glances.

choso’s face was right up against your pussy, and he made sure to run and trace his tongue in every single spot that would make you sing out pretty ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’'s for him. he’s craved a good meal for the longest and the meal between your thighs was all that he really needed.

“greedy girl,” sukuna grouses, lightly squeezing your chin, making you give him your attention back. ruby red eyes flicker toward your exposed nude neck — such precious skin all out and on display, a vampire’s favorite part of the body.

the thoughts of imagining what you tasted like from just a single bite clogged his entire brain. just a single drink of you - just one would have him probably at your mercy - no, he had to focus.

sukuna shakes his head with an annoyed grunt, pressing his head against yours as you lied back. “both, huh? can you really handle that, princess?”

“yes—”

“look at me when you speak, girl,” and you feel an overwhelming increase of thumps in your heart once he’s only inches away from pressing his lips against yours.

the eye contact was brutal - sensual.

his eyes lock onto yours and it’s as if you’re staring directly at a pool of bloody scarlet jewels. you could honestly get lost in sukuna’s eyes. such irises never leave yours and you gulp, looking him right in the eye before watching choso starting to bite near your thighs. “repeat yourself, go on.”

with a shaky voice, you drag choso’s head closer between your thighs before whining once he glides his forked tongue against your throbbing pearly nub. “i want you both. p.. please, wan’ you both.”

and the last thing you’d expect was for them to be eating you out — at the same damn time.

both vampires were propped up between your legs as you’re spread open with the cutest expression plastered on your face.

god, this was fucked.

as two forked tongues flick and swipe against your clit, nibbling on your tender gummy flesh, you let off the most melodic whine. it rips straight out of your throat, bouncing off the century old walls. the texture of both tongues — you felt the plush spikes that run against their tastebuds, feeling sukuna hold your nub hostage with choso trapping his your pretty clit with his fangs.

“fuck, ‘m so c- close,” you’d whine out, staring at them both as they’re between your legs with hazy blown pupils. both of your hands fish through their hair, gasping heavily once they start to slurp nearly everything out of you at such at maddened pace.

it was one thing with teeth — but they had fangs, and they both made sure you felt the keen edges against your sopping cunt every single time.

“mmph,” choso mewls out, wrapping his mouth around your slick entrance. sukuna’s only a few kilometers apart, and the older vampire grunts once he tries to push him away. with pouty glossed lips, choso gives your clit a kiss before briefly departing. “ ‘kuna,” he huffs cutely, and you watch as his chin has an even shiner coat of your arousal racing down. “you’re bein’ greedy..”

“good,” sukuna jibes, and you whimper loudly once his long tongue trails further down. it stops right once it reaches your winking hole. it was so long, it located places you didn’t even know could be reached. a fluttering feeling settled inside the very pits of your stomach before he spits on your cunt.

it’s a rude ‘pft’ and you watch as a syrupy strand dribbles down onto your heat. choso’s lip quivers as he stares too, going back to touching himself.

he rarely touched himself — but when he did, it always felt heavenly. “cho,” he grouses, smearing a fat thumb against your cunt that’s soaking up the dribbling saliva. “clean her off for me.”

choso’s eyes widen. but he was too feral to reply, and as if his lips had a mind of it’s own, he leans in and let’s his mouth do the rest of the talking.

honey, your taste was almost equivalent to honey. choso whines against your clit as he drinks you clean, the soddened pure taste of you never departing from his tastebuds. he shamelessly laps up sukuna’s saliva that pours down your pudgy wet folds before softly thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“fuck,” you moan, feeling your legs starting to spasm. sukuna goes back between and they’re both latching their pink pointed tongues against your tender muscle. you even watch as their tongues touch, getting tangled together and all. choso grows flustered and sukuna’s for the same sly smile on his lips, teasingly licking near choso’s bottom lip before going back to your pussy.

squelch, you were so wet . . profusely drooling. with how wet you were, you were putting faucets to unruly shame.

your thighs were covered in various marks and as they both shared the same pussy drunk grin, that’s when you finally snap.

right when the tip of sukuna’s forked tongue rudely thwacks against your sweetened g-spot, you end up gushing out right away. it creeps up on you like a jump scare, hitting you like a truck, an inevitable wave that came crashing down without warning.

“fuck, ngh oh my god!” and as you’re coming undone on their tongues, you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you had.

seconds later as you gradually let go, your tummy’s continuing to heave from each exhilarated pant leaving from your lungs. with hooded eyelids fluttering, you end up spraying a sweet amount of sap onto the bottoms of their chins. sukuna snickers and choso quietly gasps—

“my my,” sukuna hums, licking his tongue underneath his bottom lip, savoring the taste. “so the human’s a squirter also, interesting,” and you couldn’t my stop panting.

your orgasm was loud, and it rang through each of the ancient walls that were so old that they were on the verge of crumbling down after centuries of standing tall. your own voice nearly shatters the victorian mirrors as you leisurely succumb into awaited pleasure, releasing your grip from their heads. you glance down and see sukuna already staring at you, giving your cunt one final kiss. “cute, think i’ll take my time with you, princess.”

choso pouts, panting himself as his tongue licks near the crevice of his lips. “y.. you mean us, ‘kuna.”

sukuna rolls his eyes with a grimacing scowl. “eh, right.”

many moments later — once you’re lightly thrown on sukuna’s king sized bed, you gulp.

now you were fucked.

they were more hungrier than ever, especially choso. the taste of your sweet cunt still lingers and his mouth, on his tongue—and he only imagined how sweeter your sacred blood must be.

“choso, watch me,” sukuna gruffs, and you let him flip your body over. landing into the cushions with a soft ‘oof’ your cheek gets pressed against a velvet pillow. “humans are fragile, so you don’t wanna break ‘em too bad,” and you moan once his hand swats against your bare ass. the recoil makes your entire body tense and you chew on your lip, quietly wishing he’d spank you again.

you weren’t really wearing anything except for maybe a black skirt that was now torn to practical shreds and a blouse that was halfway raised toward the top. as sukuna shuffles a bit, he springs out his thick cock and oh, you could tell he was big just from hearing the stroking sounds from behind you.

he grunts, giving his veiny shaft a few ample pumps before aligning himself against your swollen entrance. “look at herrrr,” he purrs, spreading your cunt apart with two fingers as your ass arched upward.

you were still drenched with your panties clinging toward the gummed crevices of your thighs. right as he toys with your dilating clit, he can hear the sloshing sounds make it’s return before darkly chuckling. “eager, isn’t she choso? her pretty pussy’s tryin’ to talk back. how quaint.”

“sukuna,” choso pouts, pushing him off. “let me, i know how to—” and he pauses, his eyes intently gazing at your pulsing cunt.

he was still so hungry. he just wanted another taste. just one more slurp of your slick and he’ll be satisfied. his thirst would be quenched. choso shakes his head, letting off a shaky sigh. “i know how t- to fuck.”

“he doesn’t,” sukuna mouths to you in a cocky manner, getting in front of you.

the pink haired vampire stands near the edge of the bed, a hand cupping underneath your chin. “it’s okay, you can look,” he smugly says, feeling your eyes burn into his weighty length that’s standing tall.

the shadow that’s underneath it makes it appear even bigger, and oh, it’s not just big - it’s huge.

sukuna’s very thick with insane amounts of girth for days, and your eyes slowly flicker toward his pretty tip that’s swollen. spurts of pre-cum seeping from his frenulum and you can’t help but give his tip a few greeting kisses. he sucks his teeth at the audacity, wide jaw tightening at your tender touch. the more you stare, you notice he’s got a bit of pink hair that curls it way around his fat base, almost forming a bush.

it’s unintentionally attractive, and you even found yourself gawking at his shaggy happy trail too. “touch me more, woman,” he utters, as if he read your mind. his rough tone getting a bit softer. “go ‘head.”

as you wrap a hand around his cock, you can hear choso’s sweet whimpers in the background. “oh, my,” and his sweltering hot tip’s just ghosting against your yearning slick entrance. you let off a hum, teasingly wriggling your ass a bit just to get a reaction out of him and you did. “ugh,” he moans with an needy hiss following, sliding his flushed crownhead against your swallowing cunt. “kuna she’s gonna m- make me cum.”

“thought you said you knew how to fuck?” sukuna titters, ogling as you slowly bring your plump lips up to his shaft.

with a grumble, choso kisses his teeth. “shut up,” and as his dick aligns itself between your swollen folds, he lets off a breathy sigh. “fuuuck,” he could feel you wholly trying to swallow him as he eases his way inside.

right there, choso felt a chill run down his spine. you were warm inside, and it makes him gnaw a fang down his quivering lip once his lengthy inches rummages farther. “hng, ‘s so good, she’s so wet, ‘kuna,” he murmurs in a soft tone, his words that slide past his lips shaking from each breath.

hearing your own moans leave from your lips makes him harder. sukuna grunts, watching as you press another chaste kiss against his mushroomy tip.

lustrous strands of pre-cum stick against your lips and he groans, tight abs that hid within the inside of his cloak tensing right away. “that’s it, ‘s all yours, princess,” and a hand of his paws it’s way onto the top of your head. once his dick starts to slowly disappear in your mouth, he lets off a near growl. whitened fangs poke from the outer parts of his lip before he feels your moan vibrate against his shaft. “mhm, atta girl. get it wet, spit on it.”

“hah, ‘m not gonna last,” choso breathlessly huffs, and with his hands gripping on both sides of your waist, he’s starting up a pace. it’s a slow pace that you could keep up with in terms of rhythm, but fuck was he big too.

choso had just as much of girth as sukuna did, maybe even more.

he’s stretching you out with just a few beginning thrusts and your eyes already widen. “mpmh,” and as your mouth’s full, cheeks all puffed from storing sukuna’s cock inside, you pull it out to allow a bit of drool pout from your lips and onto his tip.

the vampire flashes you a wolffish smile as his fingers softly massage down your scalp, his claws gingerly stroking against your tresses. your back was arched to a sudden with your body slightly raised, facing sukuna whilst your rear was focusing purely on choso.

sukuna studies your body, your pretty face, your fluttering flapping lashes, your tight tight throat that’s making lewd noises every once in and while, but most importantly, he studies you.

it doesn’t take long before his fat cockhead starts to create ‘love’ taps against your uvula. your eyes widen and you let off a tiny gargle at feeling him reach the roof of your mouth within no time, clawing your own hands into his beefy thighs.

“such a tight ‘lil throat for a pretty human,” he grunts, feeling you pop out his cock to lap up the remnants of your saliva.

choso’s still plummeting into you from behind, giving you soft sensual strokes yet they soon turn rigorous and deep once he feels your ass slam into him. once your skin goes back against him, that was merely all it took for him to lose it. it makes his ears twitch even more—and he whimpers, falling on love with your cunt right away.

it’s sloppy. already, you’re starting to stick and glue against his chiseled pelvis each time you rut back into him. choso’s hips were downright filthy, and it only takes him a few minutes before he’s meticulously drilling into you at full speed. his cock’s precise, making sure to hunt and search through every part of your cunt with his aching tip.

“fuck,” he hisses, a sweaty palm of his giving your right ass cheek a squeeze. as he grabs a nice chunk of your ass, he can’t help but spank it.

but he feels bad afterwards so the sting shortly goes away once his palm caresses a few circles against your hot temple.

the recoil of your skin always mesmerized him - he found himself in a trance every time. simply put, you had him enticed.

choso moans again, feeling your warm body rock back into his at such an unsteady pace to where he’s stammering over his words. “s. . so pretty.”

“the inside of her mouth’s even prettier,” sukuna sneers, and with a loud ‘pop’, he removes his dick from out of your throat.

you pout, lolling out your tongue without him having to say anything and he hums in patent amusement. “ain’t that right, princess?” and with a whack, his fat meaty tip slaps against your pink tongue.

you moan, and he slaps his flushed cock against your tongue three more times just to hear you whine for him to finish. “fuckin’ hungry, are ya, ‘lil hunter? you didn’t care about bounties, you just cared about gettin’ your sloppy cunt wet, huh.”

“mmph—sukuna,” you mumble, your words nearly inaudible once he rubs his leaky tip against your lips. his tip’s so fat and swollen as a rosé color shades over it from top to bottom. just a few seconds of him being out of your mouth and you were already drooling for more - literally.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up the longer he’s giving you such rough pivotal thrusts. you could feel him practically humping his weak hips into you, and he’s sniffling because he can’t believe humans felt this good inside.

“aw, are you mad, little human?” sukuna gruffly mocks, tracing a thumb over your arched brow.

the scowl that indents between the corners of your lips was adorable. “heh, how spoiled you must be. fine. open your mouth again,” and he views as you quickly comply, sticking out your tongue with your hands grabbing your neglected breasts that hid beneath your bra. “good girl.”

this merely lasts for a century — not really, but it felt like it.

lightning like veins ran down sukuna’s cock and you felt them prod against your tongue, meanwhile choso’s almost hysterical once he ends up dumping ribbons of cum into you. early at that, and he’s never been more embarrassed.

choso fucks you for a long while, and it’s until his thrusts against you becomes insignificantly sloppy and he’s overflowed your cunt with ropes of searing hot cum. it’s so much that it dribbles down your thighs, spritzing all on your clit and gluing against your skin like paste.

“ngh, f- forgive me,” he’d whine, peering as sukuna’s finishing up himself.

with a feral growl, he’s fisting his cock just a few more times before it’s his turn to finish now. you got filled in both ways, and once the bitterly sweet taste of his seed mists into your mouth, you let off a moan. “good . . good girl,” choso rubs the back of his neck, trying to mimic sukuna’s praises he did on you earlier.

you’re still on all fours and your eyelashes flutter as he’s continuing to spill out such slimy amounts of cum. the taste has a bit of a sugary tang that makes your nose crinkle. “swallow,” the older vampire murmurs, a long black claw of his softly caressing the edge of your lip.

a few droplets dribble from the corners of your lips once you obey, moaning once you feel choso unhurriedly pull out. he’s slow, feeling his chest heave out with a heavy sigh as your cunt let’s out a loud ‘pop’ after he gradually takes it out of you.

his tip was throbbing, and as he stared at his own cum oozing out of your swollen pussy, he can’t help but run a finger down it. you feel yourself clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout.

“tch. where’s your manners, woman,” sukuna raises a pink slit brow, grabbing your chin. your lips still remain pouty due to how much he’s squeezing against your plump lips together and you let off a whimper.

crisp air sets against your bare ass and skin as you meet his carmine-red gaze. “you’re supposed to say ‘thank you’ for the meal. go on.”

“t . . thank you, ‘kuna,” you softly snivel, feeling yourself pulse the more choso runs his finger down your flabby folds. he’s touchy, his fingers felt hot and shocking like static - and the more he maneuvers tiny circles around your clit, the more you felt your knees starting to grow weaker again.

“hn.” is all he replies with, and just when you thought they were finished — they weren’t.

you said you wanted both of them, not just one but two. and you know what they always say, the more the merrier . . right?

but it’s a bit different when the ‘merrier’ involves two ancient cocks.

to say you got stretched to the very fullest was merely an understatement. they each took turns with you, round after round after fucking round . .

your legs felt practically nonexistent, and every time they’d dump a knot into your sweet cunt, you’d feel like you were about to burst. round after round after round, they’d coax out orgasms out of you like it was nothing—especially sukuna.

choso was the one whining in your ear, whining even louder than you sometimes. he couldn’t help it, especially with how good your pussy wrapped around his dick so freely. it was a feeling he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced—and if he did, it was a long long time ago anyway.

but now, you were preparing to take them both at the same time. the thrill of the thought alone makes your thighs shudder as sukuna’s sinking his thick cock into you. already, he feels you gaping and you can’t help but moan at the elastic stretch unfurling wider and wider. .

the pink haired vampire was propped behind you while choso’s lying flat back against the sofa. it’s a pretty view, and choso’s staring right into your eyes. your pretty eyes—he’s never been one to lust over a mere human, but it was just something about you. with you, it was different.

sukuna on the the other hand—he couldn’t really care less. he’s centuries old and it’s been what, a decades since he’s got laid? it was just who he was - but he wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a while.

for centuries, the two of them lived their tedious lives inside of what appeared to be some kind of abandoned castle—you actually ended up stumbling upon it in the forest by accident while looking for them. the vampires you were supposed to kill, and yet here you were, about to be double stuffed by both of them.

“nice ‘n easy you two. biiiig fuckin’ stretch,” sukuna gruffs, wrapping a big hand around his hardened cock.

it’s flushed and veiny from the rigid sides, florid from the crowned tip with a ruby shade as he’s still getting over his recent orgasm. you’re sopping, your cunt’s crying for more and the sloshes that sang out from your folds only grew louder the more he’s burying himself inside of your gummy pasty walls. “choso, you’re not gonna faint again, are ya?”

“s- shut up,” choso grumbles, a rosy tiny spraying a half part of his face. as choso aligns himself between your entrance also, he let’s off a low sigh at the welcoming squelch your pussy make.

‘pop’ and fuck, could he listen to that all day. just the sloppy noises you made—to him, that was music in itself. “god, ‘m still so sensitive, m- mistress.”

with a sheepish hum, you cup both sides of his face, speaking in a teasing tone. “mistress?”

“i—” choso pauses, a vermillion flush spraying over his entire face. fuck, his words slipped, and he’s felt that wave of embarrassed returning right away.

it was adorable though, and as you continue to bare around both of their cocks, he can’t help but lean into your tender touch. “i mean-”

“no, it’s okay,” you reassure him, moaning once your bare ass gets a swift rude swat from sukuna’s palm. within no time, you’re starting to move your hips again, feeling yourself get stuffed in all orifices.

your sheeny-slicked lips part into a gasping ‘o’ once you feel sukuna then rub a hand against your clit. “fuck,” you whine, and sukuna hisses himself once he feels your clingy grip around his cock tighten. his hips were sharp, and it doesn’t take long before you start to match his deranged rhythm. averting your eyes back toward choso who’s laid back so prettily on the bed underneath you, speak in a soft voice. “ ‘s okay, you can call me that.”

“yeah, cho. call the pretty girl ‘mistress’, heh.” sukuna derides.

with a cute grouse, choso glares at sukuna—but his expression quickly falters once you fall into his chest, slumping into his body. his tight sculptured abs that resembled a greek god peeks through his victorian inky cloak ghost against you and a bit of hair from his happy trail tickles against your tummy.

“shut . . up,” he grumbles at sukuna, but now it’s his turn to cup your face. “m- mistress,” and a thumb of his runs against your cheek.

sukuna groans from behind you both as he’s fucking you from behind—his deep pivotal strokes slowly weakening due to how sensitive he was. it almost stings, but with the way your cunt’s holding him hostage for all its worth, he just couldn’t stop.

“hm,” your eyes meet the dark haired vampire and his bottom lip quivers. just your stare alone was enough to drive him up the first street of insanity.

you’ve done quite your fair share amount of research on these two and what the media reports about them in the papers always shocks you. they typically always describe them as the ‘blood-thirsty duo’ monsters who would mercilessly tear limb from limb off of anyone who dares cross their path.

funnily enough, they said the most heinous things about choso in particular—but now that you were quite literally being filled with them both in each hole, choso was more sweet than anything. the papers described him as a ruthless blood-sucking vampire but he was the sweetest—especially whenever he’s overstimmed and whiny.

and sukuna . . he’s sukuna.

but you were still alive—so that was something, right?

“can . . may i,” and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s asking for.

choso wants to kiss you, and you can tell by the way his big wide eyes continue to flicker toward your own eyes, then back toward your glossed plump lips. he wanted a taste, he needed it.

“y- yeah,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s heavy cock reach an even deeper angle inside of you. you’re taking them both, feeling your entire legs get weaker by the second but that feeling suddenly disintegrates once choso presses his lips onto yours.

it’s a sultry hot kiss. a kiss that he’s been longing to do ever since he walked in on you and sukuna. choso’s forked tongue delves more into your mouth as you’re riding him with sukuna guiding your hips in place.

it’s sloppy, and he’s been pathetically aching for more of a taste from you for the longest. choso wasn’t fond of sharing you with sukuna—he wished it was you and him, but he couldn’t complain. at least he wasn’t going to complain yet.

“mmh,” you moan into his mouth, feeling his scarred hands softly caress near your breasts that poke through your bra. choso whines, nipping at your tongue with his serrated-sharp fangs before he lets off a gasp.

“ngh, oh fuck,” choso whimpers between your lips and deprived kisses. his arms end up enveloping around your waist, holding you close as sukuna’s driving his cock into you as such a crazed speed from behind.

as your lashes stick together briefly — they flutter shut before opening again. glancing up with droopy eyes, you watch as choso’s currently grabbing onto the wooden creaking headboard, a plethora of veins bulging down his swole biceps.

sukuna grunts behind your ear and within seconds later, he’s taking a playful harmless chomp out of your left shoulder blade.

your skin - so sweet, and his pronged tongue swirls its way around the fang marks that starts to form before choso ends up cumming early again.

“fuck, fuck,” choso whines, feeling his chest tighten. your pussy had them both weak, especially with choso more than anything, because he fills you up with another knot that exudes its way deep inside. it shoots out fast, pouring into you before a few remnants trickle down the crevices of your inner thighs.

your deadened legs struggle to stay open and he brings another needy wet kiss to your lips before he starts panting. “i- i need, need more,” and his eyes stare at your neck. “please, just a taste.”

“wait your turn, choso,” sukuna snarls, pulling you back to sink his fangs further into your skin. oh, they were fighting over you. choso lets off a cute huff before ignoring sukuna, glancing at you.

his eyes and pouty quivering lips were telling you ‘please’, and as you continued to slowly jerk your hips against them both, you let off a soft bashful, “g. . go ahead.”

but choso’s still cumming too—his ropes of cum was so sweet and came out so smoothly that it’s like he was pouring molasses of syrupy ribbons into you.

within a blink of an eye, it pumps into you raw, and choso nearly loses it once his fangs pierce down into the right side of your neck. “ah,” he whimpers, hot breath fanning against your skin. softly, his sharp fangs delicately nip into your sweet toothsome skin and it feels like a tiny prick.

you moan as you’re barely moving anymore, but they’re both still very deep inside, keeping each sloppy aperture of yours very, very busy.

“so dramatic,” sukuna rolls his eyes, a feeling of jealousy washing over him. you’re squeezing around him tight and he groans, clawing a few fingers toward your chest and unclasping your bra.

with hungry claret eyes that favors the color of rich red wine, he openly gawks as your breasts spring free and he gingerly pinches one of your perked nipples. “look at these girls, so perfect,” and you moan at his touch.

choso on the other hand looked so pretty. he’s still enjoying his ‘meal’ and the second his fangs cut deep enough into your skin, he tastes that sprinkle of metallic sweetness before he ends up cumming again.

he’s cumming while he’s feeding off of you — drinking your lusciously appetizing blood, and he hasn’t had a fill as good as this in probably centuries.

it’s so good that his mouth was watering, and the vampire loses his momentum before slouching further back with his teeth still attached to your skin like velcro. a pout curls against his lips as he makes you grind back into him, feeling both cocks stretch you open even more. “mh,” he whimpers, honed edges of his fangs creating various marks. you couldn’t wait to look at it later.

sukuna’s still fondling your tits and cupping them with both side hands before he bites near the other side of your neck, showering the exposed part of your skin with a multitude of kisses.

“careful, princess. you’re gonna break him,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and a hand of his trails further down between your legs.

“s- shut up, suku— fuck,” choso whines, and it’s an even larger knot than before.

it’s hot before it pumps inside of you yet again, filling you to the very peak. creamy globs of it race down your thighs as his mouth’s still clinging onto your bare shoulder blade. your taste, it was so rich . . so succulent.

your taste was almost so overbearing that it makes the flustered vampire’s eyes roll all the back until it reaches his skull, and he’s now feeling his dick twitching sporadically inside of you. “mistress, fuck. i- ‘s so much inside of you, f . . forgive me.”

he ends up shooting a huge load inside that stirs the insides of your flittering tummy. you were sure some even reached deep into womb, you wouldn’t be surprised due to just how big they both were.

but even so, and you couldn’t help but ponder . . could vampires get humans pregnant?

you didn’t plan on it, but that reality of being stuffed full of each of them made your stomach churn with a pool of butterflies living inside, swarming all around and fluttering at just the lewd thought of it all. you were filled to the very max - the very brim, and it leaves you panting for more.

you all remain like that until sukuna finally pries you off of choso, crimson eyes gazing at the mess that spills between your thighs. “tsk. how filthy,” and you land on your back, staring up at the two vampires who share the same blood-lust gaze.

“spread ‘em again, princess. least we can do is clean ya up,” and he nudges choso who’s just lied flat against the bed, still in awe—starstruck.

your pussy probably did break him.

“choso. c’mere,” he snaps in his face, and the dark haired vampire blinks thrice, returning back to reality. he groans, sitting up with sheets of sweat racing down each sides of his face. “our girl need’s cleaning.”

“o- oh, right,” he quietly stammers, a bit of your blood from earlier staining his pink lips. a permanent pout remains on his mouth before he licks them clean, and he can’t help but lean in, giving you one more kiss.

your heart swoons, and as you return the embrace. milliseconds pass and you gradually start to feel sukuna spreading your legs, ogling at the mess they created, the mess that’s pumped into you fully.

velvety ribbons of cum racing down each of your thighs, you were still throbbing ferociously and you let off a moan once you swipe your tongue across choso’s lips, relishing in the taste of your own sweet irony blood.

as your tongues vigorously twirl around each, trying to assert dominance between each twisting muscle—you let off a whimper in choso’s mouth once you feel sukuna’s breath aerate against your clit.

without even batting an eye, he starts to lap the cum out between your puffy folds before he gives it one loooong suck. your chest automatically heaves in and out before your arms wrap around choso’s broad shoulders, tangling saliva strands together and creating lustrous sleek cobwebs.

but, as your lips were locked against choso, you feel something between your legs. sukuna gives your pussy one long sniff, then he does it again, and one more time before gifting it a pat. “oh. .”

choso nibbles at your bottom lip with his fangs before sukuna meanly spanks your cunt. a bit of your own slick sprays against his palm and he hums.

“choso,” he huskily says, teasingly pointing the end of his claw near your pulsating clit. it was hovering over your entrance . . and still, you let off a whimper at the sensitive feeling. “i think i know why our pretty girl smelled so good all this time.”

“huh,” the dark haired vampire briefly pulls away, panting heavily just as you. choso glances down at sukuna before feeling his chest cave in and out. “w . . why, sukuna?”

you look down at sukuna, your brows contorting into a curious look yourself.

sukuna gives your sopping cunt one long stare before giving it a kiss. “mwah,” and you moan, watching as wet strands peel away from your pudgy folds and glue back onto his mouth.

he’s sloppy, and he couldn’t care less. the vampire rubs a circle around your entrance before snickering darkly.

“because,” and he spanks your pussy once more time before playfully putting his fangs against your clit as if he was about to bite you. with a dull expression, sukuna leans in to smell between your legs one more time before whispering against your clit.

“—you’re ovulating, princess.”

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donotopendeadinside · 22 days ago

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FUCK ITS MT WEAKNESS AAAAA

(WIP) Ultra...boy? Cowkill? Whatever. Cowboy Gabriel

#i am notoriously weak for cowboys man #its terrible #ive got issues #great art tho #love the w.i.p

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊

꒰ or, gojo decides to spend a bit more time with you in the morning before duty calls ꒱

tw. mentions of babies, unprotected sexy times, gojo is a simp but so are you for him, mild spoilers for jjk 236, pre shibuya arc (like literally the day before halloween), language, established relationship, petnames (baby, pumpkin, sweetheart), 2.3k words worth of FLUFF (copium) because we all need it after the jjk leaks (sob)

Gojo never believed in angels, but he liked to believe that you were an exception.

Like those celestial beings, you came to him in the nick of time when he was the most self-destructive after losing his best friend to a spiralling, cursed madness. You had bumped into him one day during his excursion downtown; your sugary sweet smile coupled with your honest, open expression drew him in and the rest, as they say—is history.

You see, the great Gojo Satoru rarely had anyone genuine in life and the one time he did, he had lost his entire boyhood and innocence within a year.

“Satoru?”

You shifted in his arms, knocking him out of his dark thoughts.

It was the night before Halloween, and while the world was getting ready to celebrate everything fantastical and spooky, Gojo wanted to take a moment to enjoy this little slice of normalcy with you by his side.

“Yes, pumpkin?” Satoru’s voice was woozy, thick with sleep.

He had barely slept since he was a teenager, but in your bed, he had always knocked out like a baby.

The strongest sorcerer felt your tiny fingers in his hair, and could sense the warmth of your smile directed at him.

“It’s almost eight.”

He scrunched his nose, a pout worming onto his plush lips. “And?”

Patiently, you exhaled out a sigh. “And you have to go to school to teach? Did you forget?”

For a split second, Gojo thought he could’ve teared up. Your innocence and your insistence wrangled his emotions out of tune; how you believed he was a simple high school teacher when he wasn’t even remotely normal.

“I can step in a bit later, sweetheart.”

He wasn’t used to this—emotions. Gojo was notorious for figuratively and literally putting a wall up between himself and the world. He never thought someone would ever break them down and pull him out into the light, all while wearing the prettiest smile.

“Hmm,” you hummed, and shifted closer to snuggle up deeper into his embrace. “Then, I guess we can spare a few more minutes.”

Even with his physical eyes closed and his Six Eyes technique not activated, he could imagine the cheekiness lighting up your expression.

“My, my, what are you suggesting, pumpkin?”

Gojo felt your lips in the hollow of his neck, and his smirk deepened.

“Satoru…”

It was the little things about you that could turn him on. Gojo Satoru didn’t need fancy lingerie, or a candlelit dinner for his heart (and cock) to swoon over you. Everything from your voice to your scent had the power to make him weak in the knees, and he couldn’t deny you, especially when you sound this needy and breathy.

Prying his eyes open, he was greeted by the bare curve of your spine peeking from underneath the quilted blanket. The familiar shape of it soothed his worries and reminded him that you were here—you were still alive and willing to love him.

“C’mere, pumpkin.” Gojo dragged you on top of his body, letting you splay out all over his chest and thighs.

Your hair fell into your face and you impatiently huffed it out of your eyes, giving him a mock glare.

“Satoru—”

“Ssh,” he whispered, holding your cheeks in his larger, paler hands, as if he were a jeweller studying a diamond under bright light. “I wanna see you.”

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“That’s the best part.”

“You’re gross.”

All this banter was getting him hard, and he fought back the urge to snicker. “Hmm. What else am I, pumpkin?”

Scrunching your brow, you searched through your mind to find another adjective or set of words which would describe Gojo Satoru. But, whatever you said next exceeded his expectations.

“You’re complicated.”

Without missing a beat, Gojo snorted. “Complicated? How?”

You pondered over it, and he gave you space to ruminate.

“You’re…” you trailed off, pink manicured nail tapping his broad pec. “You hide yourself from the world—that’s the best I can describe it.”

He opened his mouth, but you beat him to the punch, over-explaining yourself.

“No—wait. I meant like, you only show the world what you want them to see. You’re funny, you’re outspoken and fun… but, I feel like there’s a part of you that deserves to also be seen in the light, y’know? A part you think people will judge you for, but it’s completely understandable to have that part because you’re human.”

I’m not, he thought, but kept the words to himself. I’m not human enough for you.

Instead, he plastered on a huge grin. “Look at you getting all philosophical in the morning. The sex must’ve been pretty good last night, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, discreetly grabbing your pillow and smacking his stupid, handsome face with it. Gojo yelped, trying to avoid your blows, but made you believe you were faster than him. The white-haired sorcerer retaliated by grabbing another pillow and hitting you in the chest with it, appreciating how your tits jiggled and your stomach folded forward in peals of giggles.

Your laughter echoed across the walls, bouncing lovingly in the recesses of his brain. He loved how wild and free you looked now—hair flying, cheeks flushed and eyes softened with contentment.

Gojo couldn’t help himself; he gripped your hips, pushing you back onto the bed and nestled himself in between your thighs.

You had to know this would happen—how could it not?

You looked too damn beautiful and sexy for him to resist, and Gojo was a weak, weak man after all.

“Satoru—” your hitched breath melts into a moan, back arching at the sensation of his cock sliding through your folds. They were still sticky from last night’s activities; blooming open for this morning’s debauchery.

“Yeah?” he murmured, those crystal blue eyes drowning with love. “You want this?”

You give a needy, little nod in response.

“Fuck, gonna give it to you, baby.”

Gojo flushed with pride at how you tilted your hips upwards, murmuring a teary little yelp that smoothed out a honeyed moan when he pushed the first inch inside of you.

“Almost there, pumpkin. You can take it, sweetheart, I know you can.” His voice oozed with saccharine sympathy, but those devilish eyes spoke another truth.

You nodded, wanting to be a good girl for him—the best girl.

“Nngh, yes, Satoru—oh!”

Gojo bottomed out with a low groan, feeling your walls ripple around his throbbing length. Your chest was flushed with need, your glassy eyes half-mast and drinking in his twisted grin.

“Fuck… so good… feels too good…”

Satoru moaned like a man lost in a drunken stupor. He felt every ridge and bump of your precious insides; every nudge of his tip catching against your g-spot. With you, Gojo didn’t have to pretend or put his walls up; he was bare and open to the world, vulnerable for the first time in his life.

It was terrifying in the most twisted way, gratifying in a beautiful one.

You made all these feelings bloom in his chest, like the first flower breaking through frozen ground after a torrid winter. Every time Satoru thought the world had wrung him dry, here was an angel that showed him there was more to life than being the strongest and the most self-sacrificing. In your embrace, he was wanted, cherished.

Loved.

Satoru choked back a sob at the thought, and it came out as a low moan.

“Fuck, Y/N… mine. All mine. All of me…”

He hid his face into your hair, inhaling the sweet strawberry shampoo wafting from your locks. It reminded him so much of innocence; of home.

Satoru was home whenever he was with you.

Gojo had made love to you a hundred times before, but this time, it felt different. The air was tainted with a strange sense of desperation, like you both wanted to mark each other up as best as you both could.

You left red lines down his back which would swell into welts and he was desirous enough to catch his teeth into your soft skin, right under your jaw, sucking and making his mark there.

He grasped your hips, bracing back on his haunches. In this position, he could clearly see his cock easing in and out of you, drenched in your slick and desperation.

“Satoru,” you hiccuped, and Gojo’s brilliant blue eyes widened behind his frosty white bangs when you started to rub shaky circles onto your clit.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, using one hand to push back the hair from his face. The sight of his handsome yet flushed features was so unbearably hot, you involuntarily clenched down on him. “Wish you could see me the way I see you—you’re so fucking beautiful it hurts.”

Coming from someone who could rival Adonis himself, this comment was gold. A trembling giggle bubbled past your swollen lips, and you swore you could've loved Gojo Satoru for a thousand lifetimes to come.

“Y-you’re one to talk.”

His plump lips stretched into a grin, your words stroking his ego.

“Eh? Wait, I didn’t hear you. Say that again.”

Covering your face with the pillow you squeaked out a muffled, “No!” Satoru laughed, pulling the pillow from your grasp and fixing you with a gooey, lovesick look.

“What did you say about my face, hmm? Maybe if you say it again, I’ll fuck you harder.”

The promise was tempting enough for you to drop your guard down and give into him. “I… I think you’re handsome, ‘Toru.”

“Yeah?” he picked up the pace, and the sound of his balls slapping your skin would have made a pornstar blush. “Wanna have babies that look like me?”

Your mouth fell open into an ‘O’, the sudden shift in speed making you light-headed. “Ngh, ‘T-Toru…”

“Fuck, seeing you with a little white-haired munchkin—swear I’m gonna make it my life’s mission, baby.”

Stop talking, you silently pleaded. Or else I’ll hold you to that promise.

Gripping his face, you pulled him in for a deep kiss, one which set off fireworks in your brain and fizzled down your spine to where you were intimately connected with Gojo.

“I love you, Satoru,” you whispered, once you let him surface for air.

Gojo gasped lightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when he felt you melt all around him. “Oh, shit—”

Like a blinding white light, your orgasm stole every last coherent thought from you—slamming into you like a heavy down blanket which smothered out your desire to take this relationship slow with Gojo.

You couldn’t hold him back when every piece of you screamed his name. You wanted to belong to him as much as he belonged to you.

“‘Toru!”

Satoru felt you tense up, every muscle in your body on edge like you were about to jump down a high cliff. He fucked you through the build-up, watching you crumble and fall apart right at his feet so he could put you back together and love you even harder.

The tightened knot in his belly snapped, and he instinctively raised his hips to pull out, only to be stopped by your ankles strapping around his slim waist.

“Inside,” you cried out, the most beautiful, feral look of lust on your face. “Inside of me, ‘Toru.”

How could he deny you? Satoru was a slave to your fancies; he would move heaven and earth at your request because you cried out his name and told him to. After all, being the strongest in the world meant nothing without someone’s love to back it up.

Love is—was—the most twisted curse of all, and Satoru would prefer to be damned for an eternity than to live without your love ever again.

He poured his entire heart and soul deep into your womb, hitching your thighs onto his shoulders and pounding into your poor, filled pussy with everything he had. Somewhere, in the far side of his brain, he registered that you had come again—your tight shoulders and sweet squeak floating through his hazy mind.

Satoru cried out your name like he was calling out to the heavens for a blessing, and they gave him an angel in return who cradled him in her arms, pressing his sweaty cheek into her chest.

The both of you took a few moments to come down from the high, and you cursed the morning for becoming brighter; for the light to take him away when you wanted to share the darkness with him again.

It was where you felt the safest with him; you knew that Satoru would destroy any harm coming your way.

“Baby?”

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“How long would your work trip be?”

“Ah,” Gojo closed his eyes, basking in the warmth for a little while longer. “About a few days. It’s that stupid Shibuya teacher conference.”

He heard you breathe out a laugh at his petulance. “Will you come back in time so we can go try that Thai restaurant down the street? You promised to take me there ages ago.”

Satoru had to hide a laugh at your whiny request, but he could never deny it.

“Of course, baby. Scouts honour.”

“That you’ll come back home on time, or that we’ll go there for our next date night?”

Satoru winced at the sunlight streaming in, wishing he could pull the blinds close and lay with you in bed for a little while longer; that the universe didn’t demand for him to show up in the form of such a piercing, bright nuisance. But, he ignored the burden and duty that waited for him outside of these sheets, choosing to spend this moment of peace with you.

There would be no need to rush, and such a moment of peace like this was hard to come by in his life.

Fuck it, he thought. The world would continue spinning and even the strongest needs a moment to be weak.

“Both,” he promised.

“I’ll come back to you, baby. You know I always do.”

gege when i see you on the streets it’s on sight

#gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jjk spoilers #jjk manga leaks #🦢 writes

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cinnamonest · 4 months ago

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I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

#.momcon #he's so scummy aaaaaaaa

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jaythes1mp · 4 months ago

Text

3939 words, 22942 characters, 232 sentences, 136 paragraphs, 15.7 pages.

Please don’t ask me what this is. I just started writing and didn’t fucking stop.

I’m a Hufflepuff. You may ask why I wrote a Ravenclaw reader then… Well, Simple. I’ve gone feral over Batfam fics with bird terms of endearments and wanted to write about a weak lil nerd who gets called bird.

TW — Dark. Theo’s mean, dick Theo. Yandere-ish. Non consensual touch, but not really bordering anything sexual, just implying that it would happen. & others. I’m not good at the trigger warnings.

GHOSTS

Theodore Nott x Male Reader

As you make your way down the long, deserted corridors of Hogwarts, the shadows stretch and creep in the soft moonlight. The air is thick with tension and anticipation, as if tales and secrets are whispered through the very stones themselves. Suddenly, you accidentally bump into a fellow student.

His voice, a deep, velvety whisper, breaks the silence.

“Are you afraid of ghosts?” Nott, a quiet and solitary figure, had spoken, startling you. He’d taken notice of your aversion to the shortcut many other students so carelessly wonder. Choosing to walk along the longest path lead away from any of the roaming undead creatures.

You find yourself caught off guard as you realize it's none other than Theodore Nott, known for his eerie silence and his dangerous connections. A Death Eater, a member of the dark lord's inner circle, and a man associated with fearsome tales of torture and blood supremacy. Your gaze travels up, taking in his imposing presence.

You run your fingers through your soft hair anxiously, the moonlight illuminating your face, making you look almost otherworldly. You lean back a little, taking in the sight of the notorious Nott. Having grown up hearing about the Nott family's dark legacy, the very presence of the boy in front of you is frightening.

Licking your chapped lips nervously, you struggle to find the words to answer Nott's question.

"…I am.” you finally admit, you know better than to lie to someone whose family is of such high status.

Theodore tilted his head, studying you from behind a mask of unreadable expressions. His eyes gleam in the moonlight, betraying no particular thoughts or feelings.

"Perché i fantasmi? Why?" Theo asked simply, crossing his arms. The Italian words slipping past his lips naturally. He leaned against the stone wall, seemingly at ease. His body was slender, but still stronger than his gaunt appearance suggested.

"What's so frightful about..." he paused, giving a little gesture that encompassed the vast castle around you, "Ghosts?"

You were not sure how to respond.

He continued to study you intently, taking in every detail, as if you were a puzzle to decipher. You could feel his eyes tracing your features, your body language, trying to discern your emotions.

His silence was unnerving.

You swallowed hard, your Adam’s apple bobbing as you become acutely aware of how dry your throat is. Licking your chapped lips for a second before speaking. “...Ghosts are the lingering spirits of the departed. They’re a reminder that death is... inescapable. That the line between life and death is fragile.”

You pause, his gaze unwavering, making you feel slightly uneasy.

“Ghosts are shrouded in mystery. The unanswered questions surrounding their existence make them frightening. Their presence serves as a reminder that there may be more to this world than we can comprehend, and that the boundaries between life and death are thinner and more complex than we realise.” You looked up, meeting his watercolour eyes. He looks almost amused.

A hint of a smile played on Theodore's lips. He was faintly amused by your answer. It was so eloquent and philosophical. Typical of a Ravenclaw to put such emphasis on the mystery and uncertainty surrounding ghosts.

"You speak as if you've studied the subject," he observed, tilting his head slightly. His eyes glinted in the dim light, his expression inscrutable.

You nibble at your bottom lip, your coloured eyes boring into the other boys. “... it’s hard not to.”

Theodore pushed himself off the wall, moving towards you. He was slender, yet there was a certain elegance in his movements. He moved with the grace of a predator, silent and fluid.

He stepped closer to you, his tall stature looming over you. His eyes had darkened, as if contemplating something. He studied your features once more, his gaze flickering over your face, your neck, almost like he inspecting your every blemish, every little detail.

You swallowed again, feeling strangely out of breath. His proximity was overwhelming, his silence making every moment feel like an eternity. It wasn’t until he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper, that you realised he had moved closer still.

“You’re shaking,” he stated, his eyes never leaving your face. You hadn’t noticed, but in the cold air of the corridor, your body was trembling.

You felt the heat rise on your cheeks, realising how vulnerable you looked in front of him. You averted your eyes, trying to gather your composure.

He was so close, you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his scent- a blend of leather, parchment and spices- filling the air around you. “Are you scared?” he questioned, his voice low and quiet. “Of me?”

You dared to glance up at him, your eyes widening as you met his gaze. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, as if he found your fear amusing. Yet, there was something else in his expression- something you couldn't quite place. He tilted his head, studying you intently.

“You seem… interesting.” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. His eyes raked over you once more, as if he was trying to see beneath the surface, to get a glimpse of your thoughts, your fears, your secrets.

You could feel his gaze burning into you, making you feel small and exposed. You found yourself unable to look away, your heart racing in your chest. You knew he was dangerous, a Death Eater, someone not to be trusted.

But there was something about him that drew you in, a magnetic pull that you couldn’t resist. His fluffy hair fell in soft waves over his forehead, and his eyes seemed to have captured the moonlight, making them appear almost liquid silver rather than watercolour green.

He stepped closer still, your bodies nearly touching. You could feel the warmth of his skin just inches from yours.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your exposed skin, so softly it was barley a touch. You felt as if you couldn’t move, like being transfixed by a serpent. Nott’s cold fingers gently brushed a strand of hair off your face.

“Such soft skin…” he murmured, his eyes flickering over your features. He seemed almost mesmerised by you. He slowly moved his fingers over your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “And you bite your lip so often. It’s… distracting.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your cheek. “You’re so… fragile…” he said, his voice a mere whisper. “Like a perfect porcelain doll.”

His fingers continued their journey, tracing along your neck, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. He paused for a moment, his hand still resting on your skin. Thumb tracing over the Adam’s apple in your throat.

Theodore let out a soft, humorless chuckle as he observed you, his normally reserved demeanor replaced by a mixture of amusement and condescension.

"Look at you..." he began, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. "Trying to be all tough, trying to put on a show of bravery. But I can see right through you.”

He hummed, studying your shaking form with a critical eye. Then, his lips twisted into a sly smirk.

"You're just a scared piccolo uccello."

“... Trembling at the slightest touch,” he continued, his thumb slowly tracing up and down your neck. “Your heart’s racing. You’re practically quivering.”

His lips were hovering maddeningly close to your ear now, the whispered words sending a small shiver through you. He leaned in a bit closer, his hand sliding down your neck, towards your collar.

"Do you know what they do to pretty little birds like you in the wild?” He inquired.

His voice was almost a whisper, low and menacing, his fingers lightly tracing the buttons of your shirt. “They catch them, break their wings, and keep them in little cages. Trapped, completely at their mercy.”

He moved his hand further down, stopping just above your hip, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your shirt.

“Would you like that? To be my little pet?” he mused, his breath warm against your skin.

You tried to speak, but your mouth felt dry and your mind was in disarray. Your head was spinning, and your heart was racing so fast you feared it might explode.

His fingers curled around the waistband of your trousers, pulling you closer with a sudden jerk. You stumbled involuntarily, landing against his chest.

“You’d look stunning in a collar,” He murmured, his lips gently brushing against the shell of your ear. You felt his other hand grip your hip, as if to hold you in place. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hard press of his muscles.

The moment he grabbed your waistband and pulled you close, your mind became a maelstrom of confusion and panic. Your heart raced to an almost concerning pace, and your dry mouth made it impossible to form coherent words. Stumbling against his chest, you felt the heat of his breath against your ear as he murmured his suggestion.

The mere mention of a restriction around your neck, metaphorical or not, sent a shiver down your spine, and the firm grip on your hip left you feeling trapped. You were suddenly all too aware of the proximity of his body, the contour of his muscles pressing against your own.

“I...”

He chuckled quietly at your inability to form a coherent response, enjoying your evident distress. He didn’t give you time to regain your bearings, though. His fingers continued to explore, tracing the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath the loose fabric to gently brush against the skin of your hips.

“Don’t be shy.” he whispered, his voice taking on a patronizing tone. “Use your words, pretty boy.” He was mocking you.

Theo’s touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingers teasing the edges of your shirt, slowly slipping beneath the fabric to touch skin. Trailing over your hard stomach. The subtle mockery in his tone was like a knife to your pride, the taunt causing a mix of embarrassment and frustration to bubble up in your chest.

Clenching your jaw, you forced yourself to speak, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

"Don't call me that."

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering with what looked like a hint of amusement. He seemed to be enjoying your growing irritation. His touch grew firmer, his hand wrapping around your hip, pulling you even closer.

Your protest seemed to amuse him even further. He chuckled again, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Why not?” he drawled, his breath hot on your ear. “Such a pretty little bird, fluttering its feathers when I’ve only just begun to touch it.”

He slowly tilted your chin up with his other hand, forcing you to look into his eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“It’s a compliment,” he continued, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “To call you pretty. It’s what you are- Pretty. Delicate. Fragile.”

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing the shape of it before he spoke again.

“Do you not like being called pretty, my pretty raven?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. Pretty. The word was simultaneously flattering and demeaning, highlighting the vulnerability you were trying so hard to hide. His thumb gently caressing your lip only served to emphasize it.

His touch was infuriatingly gentle, as if he was both mocking you and enjoying your discomfort. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain a sense of dignity, but his words, combined with his actions, were making it increasingly difficult.

“I’m not... fragile,” you mumbled, your voice sounding weaker than you would’ve liked.

His eyes darkened, amused by your weak protest. He took a step closer, his body now pressing against yours, pinning you against the wall. The smirk on his face grew, his voice lowering to a dangerously quiet level.

“Are you sure about that?” he murmured, his hand releasing your chin to slide down your chest, his fingers tracing your collarbone.

“You’re shaking. Heart’s racing. All from a little touch.”

The proximity of his body to yours, the feeling of being trapped between him and the wall, was overwhelming. His hand on your collarbone, tracing the shape as he spoke, only served to highlight your own physical reactions, your involuntary tremors and the fast pace of your heartbeat.

Feeling both humiliated and panicked, you tried to take a step back, but your back was already against the wall. There was nowhere to escape.

He didn’t give you the chance to escape, though. He took a step forward, effectively closing the already minimal space between you. His body was pressed against yours, his height and strength making you feel even more vulnerable.

His nose gently brushed against the side of your neck, as if he were breathing you in. His grip on your hip tightened.

“You’re so on edge, love...” he murmured. “Like a little bird, about to take flight. But there’s nowhere to go, is there?”

Feeling overwhelmed and increasingly frustrated by Nott's condescending tone and possessive touch, you finally manage to find your voice. Your words are sharp, your tone a mixture of indignance and determination.

Gritting your teeth, you practically hiss at him, your voice low and tight with barely suppressed anger.

"Let go."

His smirk widened as you finally gathered the courage to speak up. He leaned in closer, his body pressing more firmly against yours, effectively trapping you.

“Let go? But I’m not done playing with you yet, il mio uccellino.” he cooed, his thumb idly tracing the line of your happy trail. My little bird.

The condescension in his tone was almost patronizing, as if he was amused by your attempt to stand up to him.

He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching your ear, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“You’re trying so hard to put up a brave face. But I can feel you trembling against me. I can practically hear your heart racing.”

He nipped the sensitive skin of your ear, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight.

“Such bravado... It’s almost endearing, Raven.”

He lets out a soft hum, his dark eyes raking over your form, drinking in every detail. He takes a moment, then grins, a sly, mocking expression that irritates you even more.

He then speaks, his voice low and taunting.

"Come with me to my dorm, little raven. Wouldn’t want any wayward ghosts to snatch you away now, would we?”

Theodore’s soft hum seemed almost mocking, his gaze raking over your form with a sort of arrogant, detached interest. As if he was a cat toying with a small, frightened mouse.

The mention of ghosts and his dorm made you stiffen. You instinctively wanted to protest, but his amused tone and condescending smirk made you hesisitate. You loathed the idea of being lead somewhere private with him, a Death Eater, a dangerous person, yet the fear of being caught alone in the darkened halls was stronger.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, and chuckled softly to himself. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he observed your expression.

"Oh, don't look so afraid, darling," he murmured, his voice a low rasp. "I promise I won't bite. Not tonight, at least."

His hand slid from your hip to your lower back, a subtle, commanding pressure urging you to step forward.

You found yourself moving forward without much thought, the subtle pressure of his hand on your lower back guiding you towards the dungeons. The corridors were dimly lit, the shadows cast by the flickering torches making everything look eerie and ominous.

Nott walked beside you, his pace seemingly leisurely, his hands in his pockets as if this were all entirely casual. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, watching your every move, taking note of every reaction. You were supposed to be smart, little raven.

The journey was quiet and tense. Every sound echoed too loudly through the dark halls, making everything feel even more foreboding. Nott said nothing, his eyes occasionally flicking from your face to the surroundings, keeping a look out for any passing professors or patrolling Prefects.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reach the entrance into the dungeons. Nott placed his hand on the cold stone wall, and the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room slid silently open.

You came to a halt, your gaze fixated on the open door before you. As you stood there, a sense of unease suddenly hit you like a punch to the gut. What were you doing? Why had you followed so blindly? The realization struck you, a sizzling sensation of revelation coursing through your veins.

Wait, did you actually... want this? A mix of embarrassment and confusion swirled within you, the thought both unexpected and, disturbingly, not entirely undesired.

Nott seemed to notice your hesitation, his sharp gaze watching your expression carefully. He raised an eyebrow as he observed your internal struggle, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Having second thoughts, my little bird?" he teased, his voice a low, velvety murmur. He took a step towards you, closing the space between you. The scent of his cologne enveloped you - musk, expensive fabric, and pine.

"Too late to back out now."

He reached out, gently grasping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes were now a dark, smoldering black, filled with a mixture of curiosity and arrogance.

"You're mine now, il mio uccellino." he murmured, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "And I don’t let go of what's mine."

His fingers trailed over your jawline, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake.

The Slytherin stepped closer, the heat from his body radiating through the thin fabric of your clothes, his presence almost suffocating. He leaned in, the whisper of his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

"Come on. Don't be shy. I don't bite." he crooned, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Well, not tonight, anyway. Unless you beg."

There was a predatory edge to his voice, a barely contained impatience hidden beneath his smooth tone. He wanted to get you into the dormitories and away from the corridors as soon as possible.

His hand slid down to your lower back, the pressure firmer now. "Let's keep moving, shall we?" he drawled, urging you forward.

He didn't give you an opportunity to argue or resist. He firmly guided you through the open entrance of the dorm, his grip on your lower back guiding you past the threshold into the dimly lit common room.

It was quiet down here, the only sounds coming from the soft bubbling of the water in the tank by the back wall, and the low chatter of other students lounging in the common area. A couple of fourth years glanced at you with mild curiosity, but quickly looked away when they spotted your escort.

Theo paid them no mind, his focus entirely on you. He gently propelled you towards the winding stone staircase, leading you up to the seventh year dormitories.

The silence between you was thick, the only sound being the soft pad of your footsteps on the cold stone. He was so close behind you that you could feel him against your back.

The climb up the stairs seemed to last an eternity, the silence only broken by your footsteps and the occasional creaking of the old stone walls. All too soon, you reached the top of the stairs and came to a halt.

Theodore stepped around you, brushing past you closely to reach the large oaken door leading into the seventh year boys' dormitories. He leaned against it with one hand, the other gesturing for you to enter.

Your breath hitches. ‘Should I run?’

You stood in front of the imposing door, your heart racing in your chest. A part of you wanted to turn and run, to escape the predicament you've unwittingly entered.

But something held you back. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was foolish curiosity. Or it might’ve been that strange, twisted part of you that secretly wanted this.

Nott watched you quietly, his gaze calculating as he observed your internal struggle. He seemed to see right through your indecision, his smirk growing more confident, more condescending.

"Are you going to just stand there, staring at the door, or are you going to come in?" he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogant amusement.

In a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, and maybe even distract yourself from the confusing realization, you tried to joke, but your voice trembled with desperation, making it clear that your words lacked any real conviction. You managed to stutter out a reply.

"... I'm not sure yet."

The Nott's smirk widened at your pathetic attempt to play coy. He pushed away from the door and stalked towards you, his gait predatory and confident.

He stopped a mere inch from you, towering over you with his greater height. His gaze softened slightly, his head tilting to the side as he studied your expression.

"Oh, my little bird," he murmured, his voice softer now. "You're a terrible liar."

He raised a hand, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers trailing over your skin in a disturbingly intimate gesture.

"Deny it all you want," he whispered, leaning in so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. "But I can see right through you."

He leaned even closer, his body pressing against yours, his words a low, sensual murmur whispered directly into your ear.

"You’re scared." he breathed, the smirk returning to his voice. "Confused. Aroused. And you don't even understand why. That's adorable, really.”

He hums, his pretty emerald eyes darken the longer he looks over your form. His hand running down your chest. “Don’t worry, my little wizard. I’ll take care of you.”

His voice was soft and almost comforting, like a dark, poisonous lullaby that wrapped around you like a suffocating embrace.

He stepped back slightly, just enough to look down at you. His gaze was still just as intense, but there was a softer edge to it now.

"So, will you come in, or will you run away?" he said, his tone still arrogant, but there was an underlying hint of hope in it. As if he actually wanted you to enter, even though he knew he could force you if he so desired.

You couldn't know if it was genuine or just another part of his manipulations, another cruel game. Either way, the choice was yours. Would you enter the dorm and give yourself to this boy with the beautiful viper eyes? Or would you run away, back into the dimly lit corridors filled with the creatures of the unknown wandering the dark hallways?

As you stood there, the silence between you two thick with tension, you wondered if his offer was genuine or just another part of his manipulations, another cruel game. The choice was laid out before you like a treacherous path, each step promising either the allure of a dangerous liaison or the safety of the unknown corridors.

With a pang of anxious uncertainty, you ask yourself if you're willing to give in to the boy with the beautiful viper eyes, knowing that what lies beyond might be more perilous than the ghosts prowling the night.

You had to ask yourself: Would you cross the threshold into the serpent's den, or flee from the enticing jaws of the beast?

The choice was yours, dear reader.

No use of y/n, no in-depth descriptive features.

Please feel free to send in requests.

What would you have chosen? Let me know in the comments or reply with a reblog!

#male reader #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #yandere theodore nott #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin gang #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x male reader #yandere hp #hp x male reader #hp #hp fanfic #ravenclaw reader

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lookingfts · 2 months ago

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Thanks to @crookedchildpanda for the prompt including JB's glasses! I am a huge sucker for that look (and so is Kate).

She’s done just fine resisting Anthony Bridgerton so far.

Well, maybe not just fine. Maybe that’s an overstatement when she still loses her breath at that dark flash in his eyes that comes out when she’s competing with him over something stupid. When she spends hours thinking up new insults, new criticisms, new weaknesses to needle at to piss him off the way he regularly pisses her off. When she lays in bed and thinks about his eyes, his jaw, his mouth, the annoyingly perfect cut of his face and his body as she touches herself.

But she’ll never actually fuck him, she swears. Kate will not be a notch on the bedpost of London’s most notorious trust fund slut. She absolutely refuses, no matter how many times he looks at her a little too long or brushes a hand over the small of her back or murmurs in her ear and she’s instantly horny in a way that feels like a medical condition.

In the end, it’s a complete surprise. The thing that does her in.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Kate asks extremely impolitely over the table at brunch. Anthony hasn’t even sat down yet, and all of their friends – well, her friends, his family – whip around to look at her. Whoops. Her ribbing is typically a little more…discreet than that.

He makes a show of looking down at his chest. “A jumper?”

The jumper is sexier than it should be, stretched tight over his absurd muscles, but that’s not what she means. “No, your…” He raises an eyebrow, and Kate feels heat rush to her cheeks. “Never mind, you look stupid, is all.”

It’s lame and uncreative, as far as insults go, and Kate buries her face in the menu even though she gets the same thing every time they come here. Anthony slides in across from her, and- fuck.

Does she have a glasses thing? It feels like maybe she has a glasses thing. Or maybe it’s just an Anthony-in-glasses thing, because she’s never noticed it before, and suddenly she is more attracted to him than she’s ever been to anyone in her life and fuck that, honestly, it’s so unfair.

The following ninety minutes are pure torture, as Anthony keeps looking at her and Kate steadfastly pretends not to notice, and his foot bumps against hers in a way that’s probably accidental, given their positions, but sends a sharp jolt through her nonetheless.

“I like the glasses,” Daphne says, tapping the corner of her brother’s frames as he tries to duck away. “They make you look smart.”

“They make me look old,” he protests, and Kate thinks a little hysterically about how not true that is. “But my contacts were on back order, so it’s this or be blind and walk into traffic.”

“There’s an option,” Kate says chipperly, attempting to regain some of her balance after her slip-up earlier. And Christ, that's a mistake. His eyes flash behind the glasses, and Kate thinks she has just discovered her own personal kryptonite.

She needs some air. In a performance that is probably unconvincing, but everyone else is too lost in conversation to notice, Kate pretends to feel her phone buzz and tugs it out of her pocket.

“It’s Edwina,” she says pointlessly. “I have to call her. I’ll be back.”

Her waffle lies half-eaten on the table as she strolls out of the restaurant and slumps against the wall, inhaling deeply. She will not blame herself for being an adult woman with a healthy sex drive, but she will blame herself for directing that sex drive toward fucking Anthony Bridgerton, of all people.

He’s kind awful. He’s smart arrogant and gentle condescending and he loves his family hooks up with too many women and almost certainly has some type of infection and he looks at her like he wants to take care of her conquer her.

Not for the first time, Kate wonders if she secretly wants to be conquered by him. Wonders if she could forgive herself for letting it happen.

“You’re off your game today.”

Kate jumps off the wall, her eyes snapping open. Anthony looks unbearably smug, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirks at her. “Yes, well, occasionally I do have better things to do than tear you apart, Anthony.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he hums, taking the smallest step toward her. She has a dozen ways to escape, knows Anthony would never actually pin her down, but she feels trapped anyway. Trapped by his gaze and the heat from his body and the shiver of arousal that travels slowly down her spine. “If I’d known the glasses would do something for you, I would have worn them ages ago.”

It should be taunting, but his voice is unexpectedly soft. Like he’s not teasing her. Like he means it. “Who says I care about your glasses?”

That would have worked better if she didn’t sound so shaky. Anthony leans toward her a little more, his confidence growing in small bursts, and this is humiliating. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s creaming her knickers over this man she wants hates so much.

Anthony swallows, his eyes trailing over her face, and all she feels is desire. In her blood, in his gaze. There’s nothing but a burning heat and a cautious, tentative hope. “I absolutely hate these glasses, Kate,” he says. “But I would wear them every day for the rest of my life if it made you tremble the way you’re trembling right now.”

And that’s the worst part of it all, isn’t it? He’s standing here, telling her that he would do it for her. That he would do anything to please her, to stoke her lust, to win her affection.

The worst, worst part is that he doesn’t need to do much of anything. Kate devotes ninety percent of her energy to keeping him at arm’s length, and it’s been a losing battle from the start.

Fuck it. She’ll forgive herself later. Or not.

Her lips are on his and however she expects him to respond, it is not to yank her against him on this public street and tangle his hand in her curls and lick into her open mouth until she moans. It’s not for his glasses to bump against her nose and for that to be some weird turn-on in itself. It’s not for him to literally fucking growl in his throat as he kisses her with mind-numbing intensity.

Kate is disoriented when he pulls away, her lungs burning from the lack of air, his large hands still taking up an insane amount of real estate on her waist. His glasses are slightly askew and really – that’s it. She’s filing an insanity plea. There is no other excuse for why she feels so dizzy, why the thought of going back to her waffle and forgetting all of this feels like madness.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, his thumb stroking the soft skin peeking out from her top, his eyes blown out. “Tell me to go back inside or tell me to take you home. Just tell me.”

And it’s suddenly crystal clear that there’s only one option. She’s going to fuck this stupid man and make him keep his glasses on and it’s going to be the best shag of her life, regardless of what happens after. And she’ll regret it, or she won’t, because maybe he does actually want her this badly.

“Go back inside,” Kate breathes, and his shoulders slump, but he simply nods. “And pay for our meals. And tell everyone I have a family thing and you’re going to drive me home.”

Anthony grins, his eyes lighting up behind the glasses, and Kate thinks she might have been wrong before. That is her ultimate weakness. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

#drabble #bridgerton #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

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rowrory · 1 year ago

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FAVORITES

Want fics that don't just revolve around smut? Read these!

Fandoms include: jjk, bnha, haikyuu, aot, marvel, tvd

GOJO SATORU

Intrinsic Warmth — thatdesklamp (ao3)

Summary: “So stay with me. Forever.”

You make a weak stab at a joke. “For Infinity, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Satoru turns to look at you and your heart jumps at the clear expression on his face. There’s not a hint of humour: for once, he’s fully and completely serious. “For the rest of my life, and for all the lives after.”

You meet Satoru on 7th September, 1996.

Some time later, you realise you love him.

Notes: HOLY FUCK I LOVED THIS SO MUCH!?!?!??! THE ANGST?!?!? THE PINING?!?!?!? I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS!!!!!!!! THE AUTHOR WASN'T FUCKING AROUND WHEN SHE WROTE THIS!!!

gods, monsters, monkeys — yuzudrops (ao3)

Summary: A grossly under-qualified graduate of Jujutsu High is hired to teach a class of Special Grades. They learn there is more to strength than power. It doesn't end well.

Notes: chefs kisses, literally one of THE best gojo fics out there

Keep a Place For Me — alkhale (ao3)

Summary: A quiet story that takes place a little before Gojo Satoru was born to be the greatest shaman of this era, his youth, triumphs, losses, and his inherent rise to a place unknown by anyone else.

And the one person who bore witness to it all.

Notes: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS YET, YOU ARE SERIOUSLY MISSING OUT

take me down (to the depths of your depravity) — Innka (ao3)

Summary: The story starts with you standing in the pouring rain. All you remember are your orders.

Gojo Satoru. Look for the white hair and the baby blues.

"This will be easy," they said. "White hair and baby blues, eyes like the sky. Pull him in, fatten him up and send him to the devil. In and out, one and done."

"You can do this with your eyes closed," they said.

"This will be easy," they said.

They were wrong.

Notes: Read trigger warnings first

watermelon sugar why — Innka (ao3)

Summary: You had marched into his office, looking like your life was in his hands. You held out an excursion request. For a beach trip, of all things. By the time Gojo finished reading it, he had wanted to do exactly three things: sign the paper, laugh in your face, and bend you over on his desk to fuck you until you were screaming his name.

Not necessarily in that order.

Notes: this is a one shot but i live for pining satoru so

all that is solid melts into air — GrilledTandooriSmoke (ao3)

Summary: Curse user.

The words weigh heavy like lead on your tongue. Something that needs to be swished around before it's spat back out like the black gunk it is. Evil and vile jujutsu sorcerers who would dare turn on humanity in the never-ending war against curses.

And it just so happens you come from a family of them.

Alternatively: political machinations have you attending Jujutsu Tech at the same time as Gojo Satoru.

Notes: in love with this

among dawn flowers (the face of god) — unolvrs (ao3)

Summary: Your grandmother calls the young master of the Gojō Clan a boy-god, and you, his destined bride who will further the cause of the All-Seeing Eyes.

—or, you are raised to be Satoru’s bride and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. (Everything is.)

Notes: i love angst

the witches' brew — orphan_account (ao3)

Summary: You are the co-owner of a small café in a small, eccentric district in Tokyo that is notorious for bizarre murders and supernatural occurrences.

You think you’ve seen it all, but it turns out that nothing comes close to the man wearing a bad Kakashi cosplay who terrorizes you with his increasingly complicated and awful drink orders.

Notes: im devastated i didn't get to see who actually wrote this

5 + 1 — script_nef (orphan_account) (ao3)

Summary: 5 times Gojou had a date with you and 1 time you realised it was a date.

Alt title: Watch Gojou be really obvious about his crush but it goes completely over your head every time. Well, nearly every time.

Notes: kicked my feet a couple times while reading this

Ripverse — seoafin (ao3)

Summary: “You don't need to worry about anything like dying. I won't let anything happen to you," he says quietly, and it sounds like a promise.

You wait for the punchline. The part where he laughs it off as a joke, and then tells you to snap yourself out of it in a way you would’ve expected from him in the past. But he’s dead serious.

Notes: This is a series of one shots in the same univ with the same character, i just used the summary for the very first part

FUSHIGURO TOJI

(and your love is) standing next to me — shidouryusei (ao3)

Summary: “I wanna meet your son.”

You regret what you’ve said the second the words leave your lips.

“Why the hell do you wanna meet my kid?”

Notes: holy hell is this one of the best toji fics out there

BAKUGO KATSUKI

what heroes do — sugiwa (ao3)

Summary: Shouto didn't know much about his twin sister. She was an Edgeshot fan, had a raging collection of manga, and liked Natsuo the best.

She also wasn't supposed to be at U.A., but he sure as hell wasn't telling their father about it.

Notes: i am not kidding when i say that even tho this thing has almost 600k words (it's a monster!!), i have reread this so many times it's not even funny anymore

MIYA ATSUMU

WHITE NOISE — 1keshi (ao3)

Summary: you’ve always loved atsumu— that was the problem.

(alternatively, you force a therapist to listen to the story of how you fell in love with your childhood friend, because what else are you supposed to do?)

Notes: lovelovelove

You Found Me — Amy_Stark117 (ao3)

Summary: Miya Atsumu had his life goals set - volleyball, fame, and success. Nothing could stand in his way.

You threw all that out the window, simply by sitting next to him in class.

Life is really funny like that, isn't it?

Notes: 10/10

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

premonition of love — peacchy (ao3)

Summary: A day after the freak quick duo sneaks into Shiratorizawa campus grounds, Ushijima gets summoned by his school’s student disciplinary committee.

Rule breached?

Assisted Trespassing.

While he steps out of the office with more than just a case under his name, you (unknowingly) step into the affluent stratum of Miyagi’s controlled elite.

In a world of either-or’s, you’re caught in between.

And possibly something more.

Notes: yall listen before this, i was NOT an ushijima girlie. now, i am ;)) this ff also has a love triangle in it (ushijima x reader x sakusa) with alternative endings (though it's not completed yet)

Shoot the Ball — alkhale (ao3)

Summary: As captain of the dying Shiratorizawa Kyudo Club, you're sick and tired of the biased favoritism that goes to the showier sports. Especially the worst of them all—the boy's volleyball team.

You're determined to show the entire school how great archery is, get the funding your club deserves, and by the end of it all, make the entire school a fan of your archery.

You just didn't know you already had a fan from the start.

And he may or may not be captain of the one team on campus you have a personal vendetta against.

Notes: i love alkhale so much

LEVI ACKERMAN

1,000 Steps — BaddieCurlsXo (ao3)

Summary: You're being torn away to another world every new moon, unable to connect the dots or find any real meaning in your travels. That is, until one night you stumble upon a man with grey eyes and a green cape, who asks you, rather suspiciously, "what are you doing outside the walls?"

Notes: lovette

Death's Door — SongsOfApollo (ao3)

Summary: You spent years of your life under the guidance of Dr. Helfen, the greatest physician inside Wall Sina. Now a physician yourself, you work alongside him with pride: stitching up wounds, nursing the sick, and helping to save the lives of many. But after the Battle of Trost, rapid changes begin to take place, starting with an inquiry from none other than Commander Erwin Smith and Captain Levi of the Survey Corps.

You have heard many tales from surviving Survey Corps soldiers on what it’s like on the outside: to face a Titan, to feel overwhelming dread, to watch your fellow man perish in such an insulting, gruesome way. You’ve witnessed the effects of Titans on the people you’ve doctored. Now you are to experience the horror firsthand.

You are to join the Scout Regiment as their field surgeon, and you will do so under the direct command of Captain Levi.

Notes: one of my fav fics of levi

BUCKY BARNES

Vacant Mirrors — pilotisms (ao3)

Summary: Dr. Hart shares an office with Dr. Raynor.

You share a waiting room with Bucky Barnes.

Notes: felt like crying even tho the ending wasn't angsty

Safe with me — bitsandbobsandstuff (ao3)

Summary: When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Notes: Holy freaking heck was this beautiful. The plot? Chefs kisses. The writing? Chefs kisses. Reader's personality? Chefs kisses. The romance between reader and bucky? CHEFS FUCKING KISSESSSSS.

In The Shadow Of Your Wings — emmagnetised (ao3)

Summary: Margaret Stark is five years old when the Winter Soldier comes for her and her parents. But she survives the attack and is returned to her brother, though she's left broken and traumatised. She grows with a promise she made to herself on the night of the car crash. A mission.

This is the story of Maggie forging herself into her own hero, into something that no one expects: The Wyvern.

Notes: if you're a delulu marvel stan and haven't read anything by emmagnetised yet, are you even a delulu marvel stan?? p.s there is also an alternative for this story, go check it out on the author's acc on ao3 if you're interested!

STEVE ROGERS

The Siren — emmagnetised (ao3)

Summary: Austrian-born Alice Moser is new to Brooklyn when she meets and befriends a small blonde kid called Steve Rogers. Years later tragedy puts an ocean between them. When they meet again everything is different - Steve is about to go to war, and Alice is going to make the SSR an offer they can't refuse: her services as an undercover agent within the very heart of Nazi Germany.

The path is already written. The whole world knows the stories of Captain America and the Siren. Or do they?

Notes: ISTG IF U DON'T GO READ THIS MASTERPIECE RN

LOKI

A Twist of Marvel — GeneralofLoki (wattpad)

Summary: Naomi Swanson is fresh out of college, working as an assistant in a small paper supply company and inhaling coffee by the gallons. When an accident knocked her out, Naomi woke up in a world she had only seen through screens.

Armed only with her phone and a questionable data plan, Naomi attempts not to be killed as she comes face-to-face with the Avengers, and so much more.

Notes: do not and i repeat do NOT underestimate this just because it's a wattpad story ;)) it's literally the best girl goes to alternative dimension story in the mcu universe out there!!

KLAUS MIKAELSON

descent — tothelakes (wattpad)

Summary (since the summary on this one is a little long I'll be giving a brief description instead): Rory, the twin sister of Elena, unknowingly dates Klaus, the terrifying hybrid determined to sacrifice her sister. When the Mystic Falls events start, cue the beginning of their tumultuous journey as secrets are revealed and feelings come to light.

Notes: this is probably the best klaus fic to ever grace the world of fanfictions.

584 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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BTS fic recs: July 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fics post 💜

Also, most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.

I am so sorry that this list is so long 🫣 I’ve clearly had waaaay too much time on my hands 😂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | 💜 | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, personal favorites = 💯.

⭐A Remedy for Mondays: pt2, pt3, pt4 [completed series] 💯 by @dovechim // pjm x f.reader // coworkers!au, office!au, s2c2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 All you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

🗨️ This is one of the most hilarious plots I’ve read! 😂 It is so funny, with a good amount of angst, fluff and brilliant comedy 👏 This is really one of my all time favorites - if you have not read this one yet, please go read it, you won’t be disappointed! 💎

⭐Two point Five (2.5): pt2 [series] 💯by @bratkook // jjk x f.reader // handyman!jk, s2f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

🗨️ This is also one of my all time favorites! 💎There is just something incredibly hot about handyman JK 🥵 It is so good, juicy, smutty and there's comedy in it too! Please don’t be sleeping on this one.

⭐Not my Fault by @taegularities // jjk x f.reader // college!au, classmates to lovers // 🥰🥵

📝 After sparking a sinful conversation on a dating app, you vow to yourself that you won’t give in to more the notorious college fuckboy Jeon Jungkook might have to offer. That is, until he rings your doorbell just one night later – and it’s truly not your fault that he’s so damn hard to resist.

🗨️ This is really, really good! I loved everything in this 💜

⭐Illicit Favors 💯 by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // producer!yoongi, virgin!reader, f2l // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

🗨️ Matchmaker Namjoon!! The premise is funny and leads to slight awkwardness, but it’s so good. I love the reader and Yoongi’s friendship in this. I was left speechless after reading it, I can’t recommend this enough 🙂

⭐Now We Reign by @oddinary4bts // myg x f.reader // idol!au, work collaborators to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

🗨️ If you want to take your feelings on a roller-coaster ride, this i definitely for you! 💜 It is a great masterpiece and has a rich and deep story. A must read 👏

⭐Just Dance it Off by @kookdiaries // pjm x f.reader // dancers!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 When you hear that you are cast as the female lead in the upcoming end of the semester show, you are completely thrilled. That is, until you hear who your partner is…

🗨️ I love enemies to lovers and this is so, so good 👏

⭐Netflix & chill [ongoing (incomplete) series] by @1kook // jjk x f.reader // s2l, app developer!jjk, slice of life // 🥵🥰😂

📝 If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

🗨️ I wouldn’t normally recommend an incomplete series, but I really like this one and I actually think that the last special works well as the finale for the series (it gives closure). There are many parts, specials and ‘commercial breaks’ in this, so a lot to sink your teeth in! I think it is funny and sweet and there’s smut in every main story ❤️‍🔥

⭐Bad Decisions by @jjungkookislife // myg x f.reader // f2l, tech support!Yoongi // 🥵🥰😂

📝 Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?

🗨️ It should be illegal how much I enjoyed and adore this! I loved the dynamic between all the characters. It is definitely worth a read, it is thoroughly funny and smutty 👌

⭐Oh, Darling! [completed series] By @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, professor!Yoongi, student!reader // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

🗨️ Dang this is incredibly hot, okay! The profession/student dynamic is just so satisfying and ugh. I really like that this doesn’t feel awkward or forced, but actually like they are equal 💜

⭐Love like This by @ppersonna // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥰🥰🥰🥵

📝 Jimin wants to make sure this birthday is your favorite one yet.

🗨️ This is just sweet sugary fluff with some soft and cute smut (can smut be cute? 🫢). It is just so, so sweet 💜

⭐Tricks of the Trade 💯by @stutterfly // myg x f.reader // body swap!au, soulmates!au, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers // 🥰😂🥵

📝 The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That’s why you frequent it. It’s definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you’ve been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you’re waking up in a body that definitely doesn’t belong to you. You can’t decide if it’s the best or worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

🗨️ This is utterly perfection! It is so funny and hilarious - but it is also insanely smutty! It’s really interesting with body swapping, what they learn about each other, lol. I read this on a day where I was feeling down, and it honestly made my day! 💜Also, now I kinda wanna watch ‘She’s the Man’ 😂

⭐The Boyfriend Concept by @kpopfanfictrash // pjm x f.reader // porn star!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

🗨️ This is just really wholesome 🥹It is also incredibly hot too! 🥵

⭐The Making of: Love by @inkjam-moon // knj x f.reader // actor!au, s2l (not really strangers, ‘cuz they know of each other) // 🥰🥵😂

📝 When the movie you’re in requires to to film a risque scene with a world renowned sex symbol, your virginity is suddenly all you can focus on.

🗨️ I think this is funny, so I’ll tag it with comedy! Jimin is in it (he is readers manager) and he is just doing his best job of being a supporting character 👏 It’s good!

⭐Reset by @dovechim // pjm x f.reader // college!au, f2l // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

🗨️ It is really, really good! And if you want to bawl your eyes out like I did, seriously give it a read. It is equally beautiful, cute and sad. Jimins last sentence really killed me 😭

⭐5280 feet by @xbaepsae // pjm x f.reader // mile high club!au, flight attendant!reader // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Never in your life have you met such a cocky, yet still strangely attractive, person. His words really struck a chord in you, and now you really can’t stop imagining your legs wrapped around him…or his cock in your mouth.

🗨️ This is so good! 🔥🥵 The plot is nice and the smut is just so 🔥 i love it 😍💖 if you haven’t read this, it is definitely worth a read!

⭐Heartbreak Insurance by @jimlingss // pjm x f.reader // s2l // 🥰😂

📝 At Heartbreak Insurance, we are committed to be there when you need it most. Affordable and comprehensible solutions to meet your needs today! With our Heartbreak Insurance, you can find a plan that fits your needs. We cover and care for you in your most vulnerable times, offering paid time off, therapy sessions and care packages. Because heartbreak is pain too.

🗨️ This is hella fluffy! 🥰 It is just sweet and fluffy perfectness 😘

⭐Performance Evaluation by @kookscrescent // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!au, college!au // 🥵

📝 After the guy you’d gone out with for a few weeks, suddenly dumps you after you’ve slept with him, you want to know if your bedroom skills are the root of the problem, and there’s only one person you really want to turn to to find out. But unfortunately for you, he’s gay. So he sends you to the next best person. Min Yoongi.

🗨️ The plot is on point and the smut is on fire 👌It is awkward in the beginning, but that made it funny (for me at least) 😂

⭐100 km/hour 💯by @chateautae // pjm x f.reader // fuckboy!au, college!au, pwp // 🥵

📝 What exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

🗨️ I was not at all prepared for the juicy smut in this 🥵 I really love the tension between reader and Jimin, and omfg the smut + tension 🤌🏾It is just brilliant 👏

Thank you so much for going through my recommendations! I hope you find something that you like and show it some love. I’m still going through my reading list from as far back as 2017, so don’t be surprised if I recommend something ‘old’. And I know that some of these amazing writers are on hiatus or completely closed, but their fics are still slapping and worth a read, like or reblog.

Borahae 💜

#bts fic recs #bts fic #bts fics #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jimin fanfic #park jimin x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #Yoongi x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader

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gingerteawrites · 2 months ago

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BY THE HEARTH: KING

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in updating this series. School just started and between moving in, new classes and work, your girl has been a bit overwhelmed. However, I am so grateful for all your sweet comments about my writing, it means so much to me, and gives me the motivation to pull through and update. Be sure to read the previous part here before you continue with this. And as always, please let me know what you liked (or maybe did not like) about this chapter. Enjoy!

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~1.7K

banner from @cafekitsune

ACT III:

“It has to happen your majesty, it is unbecoming of you to be alone”

“A king without a queen is a sign of weakness”

“The people demand it”

Kento often found himself fiddling with a fountain pen during meetings with the royal advisors. Sometimes it was out of boredom, his rough hands tracing the outline of the writing tool. Other times it was to focus, moving it in repetitive spins while he was deep in thought. Today though, he fought the urge to drive the writing tool into one of his advisor’s heads; nobles who kept droning on and on about a remarriage.

“An unmarried king is not much of an uncommon occurance” he enunciated calmly, trying to conceal his mounting annoyance.

“Well, your majesty is still so young. It would be a shame for you to remain a widower.” Marquess Kamo commented, his face twisting into a haughty expression. “Having a queen by your side is a sign of strength. Don’t you think you’ve grieved long enough?”

“A woman of good breeding is important to be by the side of every leader.” Another baron chimed in. His eyes gleamed with interest and a sly smile curled on his lips “My daughter would be a very agreeable choice, don’t you think?”

Kento’s movements with his pen halted, and he fixed the baron with a stern look, lips drawn into a thin line. The chatter around the large table died immediately, the members seemingly just taking notice of his irritation. The king stood up calmly from his chair and placed the pen on the mahogany table, the little *tak* it made causing some to jump.

Arrogant bastards with no real backbones. His eyes scanned their faces slowly, no longer attempting to hide his displeasure with the conversation.

“This session is over.” He announced. Kento adjusted his fur jacket around his shoulders, and swiftly exited the room.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he walked into the great hall, closing his eyes for a second.

The king was known as a man of great patience. A man who was firm when it was needed, but one who always tried to give people the benefit of doubt. Someone who could be reasoned with. Now, he cursed this notorious tolerance. If he had perhaps been a more short-tempered ruler, his court would not have grown so audacious as to pressure him so obviously. To so obviously display their ploys for power. He had to end these talks.

Another political marriage, another situation of convenience. He kept on marching deeper into the giant room, already feeling the steady pulse of a migraine in his temple.

The king was a man who always did what needed to be done. When he came of age and he had to marry the noble that his parents had arranged for him, he followed suit without complaining. The duty of a King was to his people, and his people needed a queen.

He had tried to be attentive. Learned to love Kaori’s striking eyes and sharp words. But her interest in him waned too quickly. She grew bored of his stiffness and sense of duty. She prodded at him like her own little experiment, engaging in every maneuver to make him break character.

Still, he bared with his queen’s increasingly expensive spending habits and general distaste for his presence. When the time came to produce a heir, he did his duty, and out of the sour union came his son. When it became apparent that being a mother was the last of the queen's concerns, he took it upon himself to provide all the love Yuuji would ever need. And when he found her lifeless body on her chambers’ floors, next to the opium trays (her new habit he had insistently fussed about), he mourned sincerely and gave her all the honors of a royal’s funeral.

Kento had done his duty, to his own detriment, but for the prosperity of his nation.

What else do these damn people want from me? He ran a hand through his hair in quiet frustration.

He was about to branch into one of the corridors, single focus on the way head when a familiar voice called out to him

“Are you not supposed to be in a meeting?” He turned to see Haibara jogging over from the other side of the room. The heavy sword at on his belt clunking with his movements until he eventually reached Kento’s side.

“It ended early,” he replied curtly, trying to walk away but the man across from him quickly side-stepped to stand with his hands outstretched to block his way.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there. Something tells me they finally managed to piss you off.” He remarked jokingly, lips curled in an amused smile.

Kento sighed again. Haibara was his closest friend, and often his only confidante. Their friendship bridged the gap dug by their difference in ranks. A king and a knight of low birth were an unlikely combination. One that was already frowned upon by many. However, maintaining this friendship had been one of the only selfish acts the king was guilty of.

His friend was always a light, but this light shone a little too bright now, especially as the pounding of a headache was starting to beat against Kento’s cranium.

“Haibara, not now.” He said, closing his eyes wearily.

Yu’s eyebrows quirked at his friend’s tone. His eyes immediately fixed on the door that led towards the meeting room Kento had previously emerged from, and he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Do those fools keep pushing the remarriage issue?” He asked, folding his arms in front of him.

Kento rubbed at his brows “Baron Zenin volunteered his daughter.”

“Greedy bastard.” the knight replied with an eye roll, sympathizing with his friend's wariness. “Come on.” He directed the pair outside, pushing the door open to let them into the giant corridor.

They walked past a few guards who straightened their backs and issued quiet greetings at the sight of the king, and kept walking in comfortable silence until they made it to the gardens in the North wing, closest to the king’s chambers. They finally sat down on one of the benches facing the big oak tree, and Haibara turned to Kento.

“Feeling better?” He asked in a teasing tone, eyeing his friend. Kento’s features had relaxed a bit, his headache beginning to wane in intensity. He nodded in response as he rested his elbows against his knees, and leaned his head on his arms.

“This is getting out of hand. Beyond these marriage talks, what alarms me more is the zeal they seem to have gained.” Kento spoke, eyes focused on the ground. The winter breeze brought a biting chill that ruffled the fur collar of his cream blouse.

“Power dynamics are always shifting, and it seems that they think they are in a position to get what they want.” Haibara commented, leaning back against the bench. “Regardless of what they think, your reign is strong so I don’t think you should be wary.” His eyes strayed from Kento’s form to the tree in front of them, dried out in the harsh winter air “But…”

Kento turned his head to look back at his friend, waiting for him to finish.

“Having a marriage might be the best way to get them off your back once and for all.” He concluded, still looking away.

Kento tensed once again, eyeing his friend with thinly veiled apprehension.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked lowly.

“Kento, my friend.” Haibara enunciated, tone diplomatic “I am not here to force you into anything you do not want to do. I am merely suggesting this as a solution. Marry someone from outside. Someone who knows nothing about this place, who won’t pick sides. That will make them shut up.” He explained, eyes returning his friend’s face. And maybe it will be good for you, were words left unsaid.

“They were pretty easy to convince.” Haibara noted with a look back at the meeting room, shrugging, heading the fleet of knights that accompanied the king on the diplomatic talks.

It had barely taken a couple of months to find an eligible bride, and the negotiations for the wedding arrangement were done in record time. All as a result Kento's efficiency.

“They’re a small kingdom from beyond the black sea. No convincing was needed.” He replied with practiced assurance.

“Still, accepting to give their daughter away so easily?” The knight commented to himself, and the whole group took a corner heading for the outside of the annex, walking towards carriages to return to the main palace.

As soon as the door to the royal carriage closed, Kento sighed, looking out of the window while his fingers worked to unbutton the top of his jacket.

Another marriage of convenience, another merely contractual agreement. But it would be on his terms this time.

What a cruel joke life can be, he mused, chuckling to himself.

Romance was decidedly not for him. And he would not tire himself out trying to make this work. He owed it to himself to be selfish this once. To Yuuji, he thought. This union would mean nothing.

And so the king did not explain himself when the entirety of high society fumed about his decision to marry someone from outside their political sphere. Someone who might not be easy to manipulate. He did not attend the welcome banquet thrown in honor of the princess’ arrival, merely sending pleasantries to her family. He did not smile to reassure her when he felt her trembling fingers at the altar. And he certainly would not spend their first night together.

His walls were up, and he was determined to keep them that way.

But that did not help the unfamiliar flutter he felt in his chest at the sight of this woman, now his queen, trailing soothing touches across his son’s arms. And for the first time, he actually looked her, her eyes wide and shining with an all-consuming light directed at him. He could not repeat what happened with Kaori. He would not. He wanted to scrape every semblance what she made him feel from his being. So he put up the wall, expression hardening in open suspicion.

“What are you doing with my son!?”

Tag list: @ofcqdesi @tomiokasecretlover @luvstama @amisuh @abhootghiihii

Please comment if you want to be added to the tag list. Thank you again for reading, I would love to know your thoughts on this!

#jjk x reader #anime #jjk #angst #husband nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #gingerteawrites #papamin au #nanami kento #royalty au #yuji itadori

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rubberbutton · 16 days ago

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I am refusing to say anything disparaging about my efforts here, but it is taking all my willpower. Pls clap. Anyway, this is an illustration for the fic below. Javert had the SLP (slutty lil ponytail) for 95% of the drawing process, but I decided to please myself and did the curly hair at the last minute. Also, the fic was originally set at night in the bedroom so the state of dishabille made sense, but less so when I moved it to midafternoon. I was too lazy to add more clothes tho.

Ut Ameris Amabilis Esto - Valvert, rated teen for old man snugglin', no warnings

It was the habit of the old bachelors at Rue de l'Homme Armé, No. 7 to eat the day’s largest meal in the early afternoon.

They’d then take a cold supper at whatever time suited them. Most days, it was their custom to dismiss Mère Chenault, who came in to do the cooking and housework, after she’d prepared lunch. She’d initially resisted this arrangement until it was made clear to her that she’d receive the full day’s wages for a half day’s work.

She was a proud woman, who’d fallen into bitter poverty after the early death of her husband.With an invalid daughter and six dependent grandchildren to support, she’d been grateful to have found her current place. Her employers were peculiar men who kept themselves to themself, but it was less work for more money than her last position.

“I may not be a rich woman, but I pride myself on making my own way—I’ve never once had to accept charity,” she said upon meeting Monsieur Fauchelevent. “Save once when the littlest was ill and the doctor wouldn’t see him without upfront payment.”

Mère Chenault didn’t mind the pair’s strange ways. She knew that many men become eccentric in their old age, and bachelors in particular become set in their ways. It was to this tendency that she attributed Monsieur Fauchelevent’s insistence on managing the accounts with the green grocer and the butcher himself. The poor man managed it badly, as often as not ordering quantities which far exceeded the pair’s meager needs. When pressed, he equivocated: he felt terribly hungry when he placed the order only to find his appetite quite deserted him when the meal was before him. The resulting surplus was sent home with Mère Chenault as it would go to waste otherwise, and Monsieur Fauchelevent considered waste a grave sin.

The second bachelor under her supervision, a Monsieur Javert, was likewise odd. Though a robust man who appeared to her eyes hale and healthy, he claimed to have a delicate and changeable constitution—a dish which agreed with him last week would turn on him this week and he could no longer abide it. Again, Mère Chenault was obliged to take the excess to prevent it being wasted.

She gently chided Monsieur Fauchelevent for his excess and made a consommé for Monsieur Javert’s weak stomach.

—

“That woman is an idiot,” Javert said, looking out the window onto the street below, where Mère Chenault had just stepped out. Today she had such a bounty a boy had been hired to help her carry it home. “No, don’t chide me. Your expression is rebuke enough.”

“Mère Chenault is a good and honest woman,” Valjean replied, then allowed, “It is to our advantage if she does not possess an inquiring mind.”

Jean Valjean was seated at the escritoire, a stack of letters, mostly charitable solicitations, beside him. It was late afternoon in early summer before the heat had settled over the city, and the breeze coming in through the window was exceedingly pleasant.

Javert took a seat in his usual armchair, opening a book of poetry. He despised poetry. He felt it was a discipline without purpose and poets were notorious for their dissipation, besides—but the book had been a gift for his edification. He read silently, occasionally grimacing or snorting to telegraph his contempt. If he found a line particularly execrable, he read it aloud. Very, very occasionally he read a line or two which he found almost tolerable. In these instances, Valjean hummed and asked him what he thought about it.

After some moments since Javert’s last recitation, Valjean said, “I had a letter from Cosette today.”

Javert made a noncommittal noise and turned a page. He was a picture of complete disinterest, but perhaps his fingers had tightened on the pages when the name Cosette was mentioned.

“They’ve had an easy journey. They mean to return in a fortnight,” Valjean offered. Javert didn’t acknowledge this intelligence at all. “She asked after your health.”

“Did she?” Javert drawled, finally looking up. “She’ll be disappointed to hear that I am quite well.”

“Cosette doesn’t wish you ill,” Valjean said and frowned.

Javert set his book aside. “Perhaps not, but I doubt hearing news I’ve taken terribly ill and am not expected to live out the night would grieve her.” Javert waved his hand to forestall further protest from Valjean. “I don’t begrudge her. She has every right to hate me.”

It was an old argument.

Valjean held up the letter. “She cannot hate you too much. She’s invited you to dinner.”

“Unlikely,” Javert replied, sourly.

“She has—come and read it for yourself.”

Javert rose and came to lean over Valjean’s shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he pored over the missive. “What date does she propose?”

“Well, she hasn’t given a date quite yet,” Valjean hedged. “But it says right here: I trust Monsieur Javert is well. I hope that he will be available to join us for dinner once we’re back in the city.”

“Bah.” Javert’s lip curled. “It’s not an invitation if it doesn’t include a date.”

“It’s reasonable for her to wait until they’re settled after their travels,” Valjean said, brow furrowed. “Cosette is always sincere. See, she continues, if Monsieur Javert has any particular tastes or appetites—”

“—If she only knew—” Javert interjected with a hint of tooth.

Valjean hushed him, though the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “—Be sure to share them and I will make sure to consider them in planning the menu.” He set the letter down. “It’s not in her nature to hold a grudge. She’ll warm to you.”

“How could she not? Everyone adores my amiable nature and good humor.”

“You are quite capable of being amiable. You have even, on occasion, been good humored.” Valjean put his hand on Javert’s where it lay on the table. “Perhaps this might be an opportunity to demonstrate it.”

Javert hesitated. “If I fail, the stakes are high.”

“God gives second chances.”

“Yes, but does your daughter?”

“Of course—you’re already on your third or fourth.”

Javert did not smile at the joke and pulled his hand out from under Valjean’s. He straightened and gave Valjean his back, which he tended to do when he felt harassed. He took his seat again and buried his large nose in the book of poetry. Uncertain, Valjean laid out a new piece of paper and picked up up his pen. He made it no further than the salutation and a few initial pleasantries, however, before he set the pen back down.

“I don’t have to answer her at the present moment.”

“She’ll worry if you don’t answer soon.”

“I don’t have to indicate that you’d accept an invitation.”

“She’d understand from the omission that I am rebuffing her overture.”

Valjean arranged the ink pot and pouncet-box on the desk, then straightened the piles of waiting letters so their edges were all aligned. “Are you?”

There was a long silence. “I find myself between the praecipitium and the lupi.”

“Ah,” Valjean said. He wanted to sigh but fought the impulse.

“If I decline, you’re disappointed. If I accept, I’ll surely blunder or offer your daughter some insult. You hope that your daughter and I will come to some mutual understanding or, more foolishly still, affection. She’s right to be wary of me. For what I was, for what I have done, and for the blight in my soul. You are are closer to saint than any other man living and are thus able to endure my person, but you go too far in expecting your daughter to do the same. Even if she were to entirely forgive the harm I did her mother, that I have done to you, she would be right to abhor me. Men may endure me but no one has ever liked me.” He pronounced all this with a cold and brittle certitude. It was not self-pity—or not primarily self-pity—but a judgement handed down by God.

Valjean indulged himself and sighed heavily. “So you decline the invitation?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you accept the invitation?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“There’s no hurry. Think about it and let me know once you’ve made a decision?”

Javert held the book of poetry, but it could not be said that he was reading it, as his gaze did not travel along each line but remained fixed and unchanging. Valjean addressed the most pressing of the other correspondence: orphans, widows, homeless veterans. There were still more waiting for his attention, but he hesitated and glanced at Javert, who could have been made of stone for all that he moved.

“I’ll leave the rest of these for the morning, I think,” Valjean said and set his pen down. Javert didn’t mark him. Valjean rose and walked to stand before him, still Javert refused to meet his eyes. Valjean plucked the book from Javert’s hands, ignoring the noise of protest.

“If you mean to further belabor the issue—” Javert started coldly.

“I don’t intend to talk.” Valjean caught Javert’s wrists and pulled him to his feet. Javert tried to free himself but was no more able to resist than a mouse in the cat’s claws. Valjean bent over, set his shoulder to Javert’s middle and hoisted him up like a sack of flour.

“Damn you,” Javert said, as he was born out of the study, down the hall and into the bedroom. Valjean tossed him onto the bed, which creaked like a ship in a storm as it shuddered under Javert’s sudden weight. He started to rise, but Valjean held up his hand, palm out to halt him.

“You stay,” he said, his voice was low, calm, almost pleasant.

Javert stayed, though whether it was capitulation or merely the knowledge that he would only embarrass himself in a physical contest was uncertain.

“Have you lost your mind, old man?” he said, eyes narrow and intense.

“Goad me as much as you like,” Valjean said, mildly. “Does it help?”

“A little,” Javert allowed. Valjean climbed onto the bed, Javert watching with both deep suspicion and an avid interest.

“Roll over,” Valjean said.

“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon,” Javert said, scandalized, even as he complied.

Valjean laughed. “Save your blushes. That’s not what I’m after.” He sidled up to Javert and lay down next to him, propping himself up on an elbow. He lay a hand on the back of Javert’s neck, petting the curls that lay along his nape,, then began to stroke lightly to the base of his spine and back again. Valjean pillowed his head on Javert’s shoulder. He was tall and broad man and well muscled. Still he maintained his sharp edges and the shoulder blade under Valjean’s cheek was boney.

Javert sighed the large intake of breath lifting Valjean like a bellows. The small of Javert’s back was damp with sweat. Valjean plucked at the linen to pull it away from the skin, then kept tugging, pulling the shirttails from the waist of his trousers. Javert shivered as Valjean’s hand slipped under the shirt’s hem and found skin. Valjean let his hand wander, though no lower than Javert’s waist band, though the temptation was strong. He could hear Javert’s heartbeat under his ear. It had been clamorous and rapid, but now slowed, grew calmer.

He waited until it had slowed further still and stayed that way to say, “When she was little, Cosette loved me as a child loves a parent. It does not matter whether the parent is worthy of that love, the child cannot help but feel the attachment strongly. Now she is a woman grown and she retains love for me still. It does not burn as brightly as once it did. And why should it? It is right that her greatest affection is for her husband.” Javert didn’t respond; his heartbeat remained steady. “I have no other family. I have no friends. I’ve had no lovers, save you.”

“Let me roll over—my neck is complaining,” Javert grumbled.“I suppose you mean now to draw some parallel between our situations.”

“Something of that nature.” Valjean sat up enough for Javert to roll onto his back and waited until he was settled. “I don’t have prepared remarks.”

“You are genial, kind and good natured. But you have kept any who would seek a greater connection with you at arm’s length. I have seen how you turn aside every invitation with polite demurral. Perhaps a necessity given your circumstances, but certainly your choice.”

“I have not always been genial, as you well remember,” Valjean said wryly. “You have also made the choice to keep others from extending the offer of friendship. You have a ferocious scowl—yes, that’s the one—and harsh words for nearly everyone. Perhaps if you’d like to be liked, you might consider being, well, likable.”

Javert growled low in his chest.

“Or not,” Valjean said. “As you prefer.”

Javert rolled to his side, pressing against Valjean, and buried his face in Valjean’s neck. Valjean cradled the back of his head with a hand.

“I’ll go,” Javert said into the tender skin below Valjean’s ear. “I do my utmost to be, ugh, amiable.” The words sounded as though they’d been extracted from him under great duress.

“Thank you,” Valjean said. “I’m sure you’ll succeed. After all, I find you amiable.” He shifted enough to capture Javert’s mouth with his own. “Very amiable indeed.”

Fin.

#it took me way longer than it looks like it took me #unbetaed so shoutout the errors #curly girl javert #does this Latin reference make me look pretentious?#Title translates to “if you want love be loveable”#javert #jean valjean #les mis #the brick #valvert

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sashi-ya · 11 months ago

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𝑵𝑶𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑴𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐱 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞! 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤹˚ synopsis. a noble woman like you have been invited to the anual christmas dinner, this time organized by the Kuchiki clan... But you aren't new to those lands, and Byakuya is a little bit weak when it comes to you ~

tw: mndi. smut. penetration. masturbation. semi public. cream pie. wc: 1,5k

Noble, refined, rich. Status. All of the things you didn’t need. Because you already have them. As equally as Mr. Kuchiki.

Your red dress, sexier than any of the rest, but still elegant caught the attention of everyone in the room. But you could only care for one just pair of dark blue eyes; Kuchiki Byakuya’s eyes.

Soft hand placed on his, sliding in glamourous style and still so full of lust.

“Welcome Miss (Name)” Byakuya salutes you, taking the back of your hand to his lips. Such action, causes little gasps around. Byakuya Kuchiki kissing a woman’s hand? What is this?

But not even him, a self-control freak, could resist the enchantment of you.

“Thank you, Kuchiki-san. I am glad this year it was you who were in charge of organizing the Christmas Noble Night” you whisper, coming closer to his face… oh so dangerously close, with bold bloody lips tinted in carmine hues.

Byakuya swallows. His motions seem to become slow, slower. Nothing but your seductiveness occupies his mind, fogging his judgement, making him extremely sensitive.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here” “The pleasure is mine…”

You walk past him, letting your hair play like a hypnotizing pendulum barely covering your exposed back. Byakuya’s eyes fix on the small of it, already imagining a thousand ways of kissing your skin.

After you have successfully asserted dominance over every little noble, it’s time to sit down at a fine, and full of food, table.

You sit in your spot, especially chosen to be right in front of the host and wait for Byakuya to arrive at the dining room.

Every low-grade noble woman awaits for his presence with great enthusiasm, even if they know he is a man of a single woman. However, every rule has always a certain exception…

As he enters everybody shuts up. His formal attire, a dark green kimono with gold details, flashes before the eyes of hungry singles. His hair, as always so silky and beautiful, flows with every step he takes, properly fixed into his Kenseikan. And his eyes, as always looking like a dark spring night, scan quickly the room before falling upon your imagery.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, I hope you enjoy” he announces, as always short and to the point. Byakuya will never rumble, Byakuya will never speak a single word more than what it should be pronounced.

He sits down and as he does, you cross your legs in such way that the high cut of your dress slides enough to let him see everything he was hoping for you to show.

Byakuya’s gaze changes from a severe to a troubled one; his gloved hands slide down his lap… there is probably something he needs to make sure it isn’t showing.

However, the seductive dance of courtship isn’t over. In fact, it is barely starting.

The first plate is served, on extremely fine tableware on top of silver plates. A assorted pieces of Sashimi await to be devoured. Like you wait to devour him, soon. Quick… faster.

You notice the noble man constantly -and rather notoriously- peaking at you, trying to know of every single thing you do. And as the long tradition in Japanese cuisine marks, you use your own hands to eat the pieces of Sushi. The juiciest one, sexily kisses your lips with salty taste. A little drop of sauce pulling on the middle of your lower lip, inviting a voyeuristic Byakuya to fix his gaze in them.

Ginrei-sama, Byakuya’s grand father and ex head clan, notices how lost in lust his grandson looks and decides it’s time to wake him up.

“Byakuya, pay a visit to the rest room. You are making a bad impression. You are visibly flustered, kid” Ginrei whispers, breaking Byakuya’s fantasy.

He immediately widens his eyes; now the embarrassment is too high for him. He debates himself whether to deny the allegations; to assert his dominance by mentioning he is the head of the clan now… but he choses to stay silent; his grandfather is right.

You notice, smirking ever so softly. There is something so beautiful about a needy man unable to control his own desires…

He excuses himself and stands up. Visibly annoyed, but still acting to supress any type of emotions he turns around and disappears into an endless hall of the Kuchiki manor.

Of course, it wouldn’t be proper to stand up and go behind him immediately… even if you would love to show the rest who has more rights over him than anyone else in there.

By the time the dessert is served and finished, Byakuya hasn’t came back. And that could only mean two things; either he is not willing to get tempted in public again, or he is waiting for you. In any case, both only lead to one single solution…

When everybody is a little bit dizzy from alcohol and good food, you quickly escape the place. You don’t need nobody telling you how to find him, you know the place very well.

And right where you knew he would be, you find him. Byakuya’s nose points to a snowy moon, with his body bent over the railing of his room’s balcony. You can’t see him, as he is facing the vast gardens of now wintery dried cherry blossoms and endless pristine snow.

You walk slowly towards him, taking your heels out before stepping into the deck of his balcony. You can subtly hear soft pants coming from his beautiful lips.

“Just as I thought, you can’t resist yourself no more… right, Bya-kun?” you ask, whispering and surrounding his body from behind towards his waist.

In between his delicate hands, his hard sex. Dripping precum, desperate to be touched, to be relieved. Warm skin you reach that contrasts with the cold breeze of a silent night.

He can’t speak. In his eyes, aside from lust is relief… you have arrived, his helper, the woman that brought back his masculinity is there for him.

You kiss his shoulder, surrounding his shaft with delicacy and yet very firmly.

“Were you waiting for me, Bya-kun?” you ask, sliding your free hand up his cold belly. “For how long have you been this hard?”

“Si-since you arrived… no, even before” he stutters; how strange it is to see this facet of such a serious man. So needy…

You begin to pump his dick, jacking off to drain every drop of seed out of his impassioned body. His legs quiver just a little, one of his hands grab the one you have on his lower belly, and his lips separate enough to let low grunts escape.

“You are so hard already, how would you like to cum… Bya-kun?” you ask, biting the lobe of his ear.

He shivers, letting his body succumb to blinding passion for just a little bit before ripping the kenseikan holding his hair up… Byakuya has lost control, and he is allowed now to do so.

The metallic piece falls into the deck, with such strength that reverberates and creates echoes on the now -hopefully- empty garden underneath.

He turns around, dominantly stopping your masturbating hands.

“Inside. Of. You.” He assures, lifting you by your legs and sitting you over the railing of his balcony.

You let a soft gasp out; even now, when you think you have control… you were so absolutely wrong.

His lips crash against yours, kissing you so concupiscently. Giving you the right to shut up and get violated by a tongue desperate to taste yours.

Byakuya rips the red fabrics of your dress; the sound of the sewing stretching gets covered by panting and whining. Long slender fingers, as soft as silk, discover with great surprise there are no panties covering your wet sex.

“Always so slutty, aren’t you? Always ready for me to fuck you” he murmurs, muzzled by your desirable trembling lips.

“Always, Bya-kun… ngh…” you whine, as he doesn’t wait much time and you immediately get impaled by his hardness.

Pulling from his lower lip, you let him destroy you with heavy thrusts and unmatched technique.

An exquisite increasing rhythm, and your legs snaked around his waist. Pants, whines, and grunts devoured by each other’s mouths. Curled toes, hair flowing on the edge of glory, mounting such a spectacle that can be seen by anyone who decides to pay a visit to the Kuchiki gardens…

The icy cold of Christmas does nothing to your body, the warm embrace of the captain of the sixth division keeps you hot enough. His teeth that sometimes travel to your hard nipples, biting on them, sucking on them.

Your head thrown back, your hands caressing and sometimes pulling form his beautiful onyx hair. To see his eyes fixing in yours while he pounds you, while he pull from your nipples… what a Christmas miracle, what a good present to receive on such a holly night.

Byakuya’s hand reach for the small of your back, once and for all. Pressing against his crotch, he has you trapped. With your back a little bent towards the abbys, and his mouth on your neck, you can feel against your walls the throbbing sensation of his sex. Your spasming walls, milking it harder, reaching climax, aching to be bathed by the Kuchiki descendance.

“Here, now… here is where I wanna cum… Inside you… now, and fo-forever” Byakuya growls. “Forever, you say? Please, do… Bya-kun. Merry Christmas, sweetheart~”

#byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki imagine #byakuya x you #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya kuchiki x you #kuchiki byakuya x you #byakuya #kuchiki byakuya imagine #byakuya kuchiki #bleach #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach byakuya #bleach x reader #bleach anime #bleach fanart

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unluckiestmember · 1 year ago

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Hey. Could do headcanons of Gwen Stacy x No Powers! Reader, please? Recently I remembered Gwen's story and especially the incident with her Peter Parker, so I felt curious to know what her relationship would be like with a Reader who admires Gwen's heroic figure, however, as well as her old Peter, they are powerless, without any notorious particularities and feel interested in becoming something more, someone special like Gwen. Y'know, an uncertainty of seemingly everything is repeating itself.

Coming right up!

Gwen Stacy X Powerless! Reader

Characters: Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman

Tags: Can be read as platonic, can be read as romantic, oblivious!reader, supportive friend/girlfriend, confidence boosts, bullying and semi fluff.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: Yeeeeeaaaah, so I know you were probably looking for a dark outcome, but I feel we don't have enough fluff around these parks and I'm a sucker for that, so ya. Enjoy, I am so sorry!

For such a fan of Spider-Woman, Gwen was surprised you couldn’t connect the dots.

She loved how you were inspired by her heroic persona enough to try and make little changes around you.

Was especially proud when you even used that to stand up for others who couldn’t take care of themselves.

This did result in you getting bullied though.

But Gwen would always be there to pick you up and chew out your harassers.

She loves how you talk about Spider-Woman being an icon to live up to, trust me, she does!

But she wishes you saw how powerful you were.

All you could see was someone who was ordinary, maybe the lowest of the low.

But in her eyes? You were way more than that.

You were her best friend, just like Miles. Just like Peter…

She would voice it at random moments during lunch or when you are both hanging out at the arcade.

She would also remind you in your lowest moments, touching your cheek and proclaiming in a whisper how spectacular you are.

You would believe her. But it was so hard when you are so normal.

You weren’t like her, you couldn’t easily go up against rude people and take care of others successfully.

You weren’t like Spider-Woman, who made everything look so easy.

That’s why you went to work in the lab, creating serum after serum of liquids that could hopefully give you the powers you desired.

You wanted to be like Spider-Woman? This was the only way.

… Until it wasn’t.

One day, you were visited by Spider-Woman herself! In the flesh, speaking to you of all people!

She told you how amazing you are, even without powers. Even if you tried to argue against it, she would just shut you down with the best of claims;

“You stood up for a kid the other day at school, even if the bully was twice your size! You helped your best friend Gwen with her project! You were there for her when she was at her lowest and lifted her up!”

It was a bit odd that she knew everything you did for your best friend, but that didn’t cloud the adrenaline and serotonin you gained.

You two talked all night, forgetting about everything and for once in your life, you felt invincible.

After that night, you realized something; You were normal, but that was okay.

Being ordinary didn’t mean you were weak or helpless, especially when you still try your best for yourself and for others.

Powers don’t make the hero, you do.

You also realized something else; How the hell did it take you this long to realize your best friend was the Spider-Woman?!

Spider-Verse Requests are open!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day!

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mrsshabana · 2 years ago

Text

Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Mentions of mental illness, suicide, and sexual abuse of a minor. This fic has many dark themes, please do not read unless you are comfortable!

✦ AN: The long awaited nurse au is finally here! Sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect. Lots of thought and research went into making this fic. There will also be art included in this chapter!

✦ WC: 2,146

This is what you should have expected from a job in the medical field that didn’t require much qualifications. Working at an asylum wasn’t ideal, but they are incredibly desperate for new nurses. As most of them are unable to handle the physical and mental toll that a place like this puts on someone.

It’s your first day at your new job. You were excited until you entered the building. The dreary interior mixed with the groans and screams of unruly patients wasn’t the welcome that you had been hoping for.

You’re young, almost too young to be working at a place like this. The other nurses didn’t take you seriously, and they were going to make the transition for you more difficult than it needed to be. You were being assigned to a patient that is notorious for being difficult to work with. The other nurses use him to weed out the weak. Always shifting the new hires to care for him. They usually leave within the first week, so his care returns to one of the veteran nurses known for having a mind of steel. She’s cold hearted, but that helps you deal with a job like this. The complete opposite of you. A warm young woman, eager to treat and rehabilitate.

Currently you are being led to your new patient. Quickly scanning over his records as you follow the nurse through the halls of the sanatorium.

Rashomon Riverbank Asylum

Patient Record

Name: Shabana, Gyutaro

Identification Data: Sex: Male Age: 23 Height: 6’ 3” Weight: 134

Race: Asian Hair: Black Eye: Blue

Special Handling Code: Code Red; Keep medicated Special Handling Instructions: Keep away from sharp objects

Medical History: Multiple suicide attempts, Complications due to sickle cell anemia, Treated for Congenital Syphilis

Diagnoses: Sickle Cell Anemia Hutchinson’s Teeth Borderline Personality Disorder Antisocial Personality Disorder Depression Insomnia

Current Medical Treatment: Special diet for weight gain Medications given AM & PM

Medications: Wellbutrin - 100 mg twice daily Abilify - 10 mg once daily Carbamazepine - 350 mg twice daily Xanax - 2 mg twice daily Trazodone - 150 mg once daily Voxelotor - 500 mg once daily Adakveo - 5 mg IV infusion once every 4 weeks

Gyutaro Shabana, your very first patient at Rashomon Riverbank Asylum. Looking over his record, this is going to be a difficult one. You’ve learned about a majority of these diagnoses in college, so you have a good idea about the kind of treatment he will require. It’s strange though, he seems to have lost the genetic lottery. And you haven't even seen his face yet, you can only imagine what he may look like.

An asian man with sickle cell anemia is almost unheard of, roughly 0.0022%. And on top of that he was born with Congenital Syphilis. It’s quite frankly amazing that he’s lived past 20.

“Just introduce yourself, then I’ll take you to your other patients,” the other nurse says as she stops in front of his door.

Not wanting to be impolite, you hesitantly knock on his door. There’s no response. You figured that there wouldn’t be, so you open the door anyways.

“Hello, Mr. Shabana?” you say coyly.

When you peek into the room, you are instantly frozen by his icy gaze. He’s sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. His cold blue eyes send shivers down your spine.

“I’m um… I’m your new nurse.” you choke out. He’s feet away from you but you feel as though his hands have a tight grasp around your throat.

“My name is Y/N. Um… If you ever need anything d-don’t hesitate to call for me…”

The expression on his face is unchanging, as he remains silent.

“Well I’ll see you later tonight Mr. Shabana…”

Closing the door, breaking the line of sight that he had on you, instantly you feel a surge of relief.

You go on to visit the rest of your patients, then you come back later that night to give Mr. Shabana his dinner. A high protein meal, specifically for weight gain.

Knocking on the door a few times before you push it open, “Mr. Shabana, I have your dinner.”

He’s in the same spot where you left him, sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. But this time he doesn’t even bother to look at you when you enter the room.

Stepping closer to place the food tray on his table, you inspect his appearance.

His clothes hang off of his frame, enveloping his skeletal body. You can make out lean muscles on his arms, but his face is sunken and his pants hang low on his hips. There are large black marks scattered across his face, and you can barely see one peeking out from below his sleeve. Were these marks from his Congenital Syphilis? Dark circles sit below his eyes, he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks.

He’s wearing the standard issue uniform that all patients wear. A plain t-shirt and pants, made of the same material as scrubs. Though his feet are bare, slippers sitting below the edge of the bed. His hair is long and wavy. Black as midnight, unruly in the way it hangs in front of his face. The top of his hair is half haphazardly tied up.

“Got a problem…?” He rasps, drawing out each word.

The venom of his sour tongue sends a jolt of electricity through your skin.

“Huh?” you’ve been sitting there staring at him for too long, “O-oh! I’m sorry sir! There’s no problem, please enjoy your dinner,” you quickly rush out of the room.

As you continue on giving food to the rest of your patients, Mr. Shabana’s voice echoes through your skull.

Got a problem…? Got a problem…? Got a problem…?

A few hours later, you go back to retrieve the tray and whatever food may have not been eaten. Stopping yourself before you open the door. It’s ok. He’s just a patient. Then why does he make you so nervous?

*Knock knock*

“Hello Mr. Shabana, I’m just here to collect your tray,” you chime, masking your fear with a smile.

Walking back into the dimly lit room, the fluorescent lights flickering. His eyes staring into you.

His food has been untouched. The only thing that was eaten was a packaged cookie.

“Not hungry today?” your voice shakes as you try to ignore his harsh gaze.

He remains silent. Watching you as you step closer. The buzzing of the fluorescent bulbs filling the room, filling your brain with static.

“Was it not to your liking? I can have the cooks make something else for you if you’d like.”

“...”

Your eyes meet. His thin eyebrows furrow, the rest of his expression remains unchanging. The pressure of his glare makes the air around you feel heavy. Pressing down on you, compressing your spine, you feel so small when he looks at you. You’re desperate to fill the cold aura with some warmth.

“Mr. Shabana you really should eat-”

*CRASH*

He slaps the tray out of your hand, food splattering onto your uniform, dripping onto the floor.

Silence. You’re stuck staring down at your feet. Watching the pool of meat, vegetables, and milk spread around you. It takes you a few moments to fully process what has just happened, only able to snap out of it when you feel the wetness of the food seeping through your skirt, making you feel cold.

You regret looking up at him. Regret meeting his eyes. Filled with amusement.

“You better clean that up… don’t chu think…?” He smirks. Showing his sharp canines and crooked teeth.

“I-I…” you mumble, looking back down at the mess. He’s right, you should clean it up before it gets everywhere.

Going into the hallway, you grab some towels and return to his room. Not thinking your next actions through as you get down on all fours and start picking up the mess. All you want to do is hurry and clean this up so you can leave. But Mr. Shabana has different plans.

He slowly stands up. Looming over you, looking down on you with a twisted grin. He’s so tall… he makes you feel so small as you look up at him. So pathetic. So worthless.

“You look good down there…” he steps on your hand, “On your knees like a whore…”

His words leave you speechless. Your vision begins to blur and your heart starts to race. He pushes his weight further onto your hand, until you feel a crack.

“I’d like to see you like this more often…” he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his hollow chest.

Every instinct within your body is screaming at you to run. But you feel so trapped. So paralyzed by him. Like a rabbit cornered against a wall by a vicious predator. His eyes. It’s his eyes. No, it's his touch. It’s… everything about him.

You try to speak up, but your words escape you. Coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his grin widen and his laughter intensify.

He’s reaching for you. His hand is coming towards your face. Your mind is telling you that if you let him get any closer you will die. He will kill you. And he won’t even care.

Your body is pumped with enough adrenaline for you to break free from the physical and psychological hold he had on you.

Pulling your hand away from under his foot, you push yourself backwards. Stumbling to stand up on your feet. You run out of the room and through the halls, not risking looking back at him. All you hear as you escape is his laughter on repeat. You can’t tell if his laughter is echoing through the halls, or if it has just been ingrained into your mind.

You keep running until you get back to the nurses quarters and to your room.

Tears running down your cheeks, food staining your clothes, and pain throbbing in your hand. You collapse on the floor and cry.

Why would he be so cruel? You understand that he’s a patient and has a list of mental illnesses, but you were trying to help him! You can’t even remember what you were doing or why you were in his room. All you remember is him and how he made you feel. His stare. His voice. His touch.

Fuck him and fuck this job.

Clambering over to your desk, you immediately start writing your resignation letter.

You don’t get paid enough for this shit. All you wanted to do is help people, and you get repaid with this? It’s just not worth it. Through your sobs, your tears fall onto the page as you hastily move your pen on the piece of parchment in front of you.

There. It’s done. You’re done.

You won’t have to see this place, see him, ever again once you submit this letter.

Looking around your desk, searching for an envelope. You come across a thick manilla folder. The tab on the side reads, Shabana, Gyutaro.

Something compels you to open it. You already skimmed through his information, but you never looked at everything here.

His psychiatric notes? From his psychiatrist? These shouldn’t be in here… you shouldn’t have access to this confidential information.

But if you’re leaving anyways… then there’s no harm. Right?

Shabana, Gyutaro - Dr. Hantengu

August 14

Childhood trauma starting since birth

Single mother, no father

Raised as a female. Mother would dress patient as a daughter. Would cover up his deformities with makeup. (Feelings of worthlessness, not belonging)

Sister born at age 6 (turning point in patient’s life)

Mother cast aside patient for sister. (When he learned he was actually a boy. Feeling of confusion. Child cannot comprehend)

Sexual abuse started at age 10

Mother was a prostitute, would offer children to adult clients.

Patient record, “She would bring men into our house… and let them touch us. (long pause) They wanted my sister. They wanted to do bad things to her. So I… (patient gets upset) I would offer myself to them. I would perform sexual acts for them so they would leave Ume (sister) alone.”

Sexual abuse continued until age 15

Mother died of overdose. The children were left in the home for over a week until someone found them.

Children taken to orphanage.

Patient held in orphanage for 8 months until incident.

Brought to Asylum at age 16

End of first session

You are left speechless.

Reading his records reminds you of why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. To help people that have gone through trauma such as this. He didn’t lash out at you because of something you did. It’s not your fault. And it isn’t his either. He just needs help.

And you will be the one to help him.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #nurse au #nurse reader #gyutaro fanart #kny fanart #demon slayer fanart #hantengu

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