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covenofagatha · 7 days ago

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Only say my name

Agnes x reader

You resort to a desperate measure to get your ex-girlfriend to talk to you

Word count: 3k

Warnings: daddy kink, semi-public sex, fingering, oral, handcuffs, light choking, degradation

A/N: got this idea after listening to "Just One Yesterday" by Fall Out Boy lol

The flashing red and blue lights alert you of her arrival and you perk up from where you’re lounging against a dark windowsill in an alley.

The cop car is hidden from your view but the sound of the door opening is unmistakable before it slams shut. Boots thump against the sidewalk, a shadow growing longer in the flickering lights.

Your heart beats fast in your chest and you wipe your clammy palms on your short skirt as she rounds the corner and pauses, taking you in with a detested grimace.

“Detective,” you drawl, a slow smirk spreading across your face. Your skin is already heating up just from the sight of her.

Agnes O’Connor rakes her eyes over you, pursing her lips. The glow from her car illuminates the wrinkles on her pale face and the iciness in her blue eyes. Her dark hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail and she’s wearing her signature flannel with a navy fleece windbreaker and the black pants you know make her ass look good. Handcuffs dangle from her belt loop and she shrugs back her jacket so you can see them better.

She steps forward until she’s only a few feet away from you and sniffs as she takes in your surroundings. It’s a small alleyway littered with empty soda cans, glass from broken beer bottles, milk crates that have never had anything in them, and puddles that never seem to completely dry. The building you’re leaning against is Alfie’s, a dive bar that’s frequented on weekends, but not so much on Tuesdays like today.

“Want to tell me why the station got a call about an hour ago telling me that my ex-girlfriend is selling cocaine outside Alfie’s?” Agnes asks gruffly, resting a foot on top of a crate.

You simper coyly and tap a finger to your lips thoughtfully. “Hmm, about an hour ago? Oh—maybe because that’s when I placed the anonymous tip.”

To her credit, she doesn’t even look surprised. “So you’re not selling cocaine?”

Pushing off the window, you step closer and notice the way she becomes more guarded. It stings but you brush it off. “I just missed you,” you say softly.

Pretending to commit a second-degree felony just to get an ex’s attention is definitely a new low for you. But sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures and she wasn’t returning any of your texts and calls.

Plus it worked.

“You’re insane,” Agnes scoffs and you grin manically before closing the distance and tracing a finger down her jacket zipper.

“You don’t miss me, Agnes?” you ask, voice pure and sweet. You give her the doe-eyes that always used to work on her.

She grabs your wrist and holds it tightly. “It’s been three months. It was for the best. You need to move on.”

Undeterred, you wrench your arm from her grip, getting a thrill. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Agnes holds your unwavering stare, the vein in her forehead throbbing amidst the police car lights, until she can’t do it anymore. Her gaze drops to the ground and she doesn’t answer.

Feeling victorious, you run a hand down her chest and stomach, stopping when you get to the button of her pants and she shivers and refuses to look at you now.

“You don’t think about me at night when you’re all alone in bed?” you whisper and her cheek twitches. Your finger circles her button, waiting for her permission. “When you’ve had a long day at work and you wish there was someone there to help take the edge off?”

Her jaw clenches. “No,” Agnes spits out, but you were together long enough to tell when she’s lying.

“Really?” you breathe and curl the wispy tendrils of her hair uncaptured in her ponytail around your fingers. She gives you a curt nod, eyes darting everywhere in the dark alley. “Then why are you here?”

This makes her falter. “What?”

You step back with a shrug and a raise of your eyebrow. “I called the station and left the tip. Didn’t mention you by name or anything. You could’ve left it alone and let someone else deal with me. But here you are.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she argues as you smile smugly. “I just wanted to see the depths you’ve fallen to now. I’ve seen the tramps you’ve been parading around town with. Dealing drugs though? That might be rock bottom for you.”

“Wow, you know, for someone who broke up with me because you were ‘too busy,’ you sure have been keeping extensive tabs on me,” you say sardonically.

Agnes rolls her eyes. “And you pretended to be selling crack to get me to talk to you. Do you know how much trouble you would be in if it wasn’t me who came here? Giving a false report and wasting a detective’s time? That’d be at least a night in jail and then a fine.”

You hold out your arms to her, wrists pressed together and stick out your bottom lip. “Arrest me then.”

She looks you up and down, brows furrowing. “What? No. Get out of here and stop wasting my time.”

“Oh, come on, Detective. You can’t be caught giving special treatment, even to your ex. Go on—arrest me.”

Scowling, Agnes unclips her handcuffs from her belt loop, roughly grabs your shoulder and spins you around, and locks one cuff around your wrist and then the other. You don’t miss her sharp intake of breath when you press your ass against her crotch and you smile. You’re violently reminded of all the times she restrained you in other ways and you wonder if she’s thinking of them too.

When she pushes you forward by the chain, you can feel the slick between your legs.

“Aren’t you going to tell me my rights?”

She stops and looks at you, eyes hard but curious. Much like you know her, she knows you just as well.

And Agnes knows you’re up to something.

“Fine,” she gives in. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you.”

You hold her gaze and lean in with a wicked smirk. “Agnes.”

There’s a shadow of heat on her face and the gleam in her eye stands out against the red and blue lights that are still flashing.

But she sets her jaw and shoves you forward, leaving you scrambling to adapt.

“Okay fine. How about…daddy,” you rasp and she almost misses her step.

Agnes steps away from you and tousles her hair, messing it up even more, like she’s deciding what to do with you. Your stomach twists and burns and your cunt is almost aching with her proximity.

When you were together, you had sex almost every night. Three months without it has left you incredibly desperate for touch and no matter who you’ve tried to fill the void with, you’ve just been left unsatisfied and missing Agnes.

Without warning, she grabs you by the throat and your breath catches. Her lip curls as she walks you backwards until you’re pressed against the exterior of Alfie’s.

“Is this what you wanted?” she seethes and you strain against the cold metal around your wrists.

“Yes,” you choke out.

Agnes laughs cruelly. “You were so fucking desperate for this that you risked getting arrested?”

“What was I supposed to do, Agnes? You wouldn’t talk to me!”

She grabs your cheeks and smushes them together so you can’t say anything else. It hurts your jaw but you moan anyway.

“Well, you got what you wanted, didn’t you, honey?” she asks condescendingly. You nod anyway and she squeezes tighter. “Now what am I going to do with you?”

You garble something nonsensically and she lets go of your face with an amused look.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, but then you offer, “ I can go down on you?”

Agnes is caught off guard but her face quickly resets. “Are you trying to bribe a detective?”

“Depends,” you say, teasing lilt to your voice. “Is it working?”

She growls and grabs a fistful of your hair before lowering you down to your knees. The gravel on your skin makes you wince but she unzips her pants and shoves them down just enough for her to widen her stance over you and you forget all about the sting.

Her plain black underwear makes you gasp and she yanks on your hair again to pull you forward. The handcuffs bite your wrists as you struggle but the pain bleeds into pleasure when Agnes’s short nails scratch at your head.

“Make daddy feel good and we’ll see about your punishment,” she says, voice gruff with heat and you lean in, mouth watering, to nip at her cunt through her panties.

She reaches down with her other hand to slide her underwear to the side and the musky smell of her goes straight to your own pussy and you rub your thighs together to try to relieve some of the pressure.

Instead of going straight for her cunt, you suck kisses into the pale skin of her upper thigh. She makes a sound when you soothe the spot with your tongue and she shivers.

“Don’t tease,” Agnes orders through gritted teeth and you chuckle.

The first drag of your flattened tongue through her folds has her hand tightening in your hair and she hisses. She is fucking wet.

Agnes can pretend she doesn’t miss you all she wants, but her body betrays her. It makes your own crackle with electricity and there’s a burning fire in your core.

You tease around her clit with kitten-licks and she’s biting her lip to hold back her noises—you know how loud she can be—but her head is tossed back and the glow from her car has her euphoric expression lit up.

You finally lick her clit directly and she lets out a muffled groan. Your wrists feel rubbed raw but you still keep pulling like maybe you’ll be able to break free and touch her. She keeps your hair gripped tight so she can keep you where she wants you and you continue lapping at her clit.

Agnes groans, less-restrained this time, when you trail your tongue down and shove it inside her, curling it, and moaning at her sweet heat that floods your mouth.

She begins to rut her hips against your face and as your tongue strokes inside her cunt, the tip of your nose rubs against her clit until she overwhelms all of your senses. You hear yourself making noises and the dull ache in your wrists momentarily distracts you before she pulls your hair again and brings you back to the present.

You wish more than anything that you could touch her, feel her clenching around your fingers as you curl three of them up deep inside her just the way she likes. She keens when you massage her spongy spot with your tongue and bucks her hips harder. Your face is getting wetter and you tilt your head ever-so-slightly to the side to get a breath of air before you dive back in.

“Fuck, right there,” Agnes gasps and grinds down against your tongue. Your cunt is throbbing right now, slickness spilling out around your panties, and you moan into her.

She swears again at the vibrations and tries to spread her legs even wider so your tongue can get deeper inside her but it doesn’t work that well, so she drags you back up to her clit. You latch onto it like it’s a lifeline and she says something that you can’t quite make out.

You alternate between hard licks and sucking on her clit, straining against the cuffs uncontrollably, while she continues to ride your face.

“God, I forgot how good your mouth is,” she groans and you scrape your teeth against her in response, making her jolt. Her wetness is coating your cheeks—you can feel how sticky she’s made you—and you willingly drink more of her, willingly devour more of her because you’ve just fucking missed her so much.

“Daddy,” you gasp out against her cunt, just loud enough for her to hear, and you feel her throb.

Your biceps are taut, burning, already sore, your elbows are stiff from being locked straight for too long, and your wrists feel wet—none of it matters because Agnes lets out a high-pitched sound and bucks so hard that her pelvis hits your nose.

“I’m close,” she gasps out. “Daddy’s so close.”

Enclosing your lips around her clit, you suck roughly and then lash your tongue against her while she continues to move against your mouth. Her clit is pulsing, wetness is gushing out of her pussy and onto your chin and—

The coil snaps inside of her and Agnes comes all over your face with quiet moans, not wanting to give you any more satisfaction than that. You keep licking at her through her orgasm and then double-down your efforts once she stops shaking, but she tugs you away from her, muttering something about being “too sensitive.”

Your head stings when she pulls you up by your hair and pushes your back against the wall. It’s hard to lean against it properly with your hands restrained behind you but you stop worrying about it when Agnes, after pulling up her underwear and pants, presses against you and slides a hand between your legs.

“What do you say, detective?Think I can get off for good behavior?” you ask slyly and she rolls her eyes and moves suddenly.

A strangled gasp tears itself from your throat when she slides two fingers over the wet gusset of your underwear and prods your opening through the fabric, getting it more soaked with you.

“Such a slut for daddy, aren’t you?” she coos and you nod pathetically. A smile stretches across her face, etching the lines in her chin and cheeks and forehead and you get the sudden urge to run your tongue over them. She leans in, mouth pressed against your ear. “Say it.”

Fuck. “I’m a slut for you, daddy,” you whine and you can feel her smirking. She keeps teasing you, circling your clit through your panties so you keep going. “Such a slut that I’d do anything for you to fuck me, I just need you so badly, please, daddy—”

Agnes peels your underwear from your sopping cunt and slides three fingers in immediately. Your mouth drops open but no sound comes out and she chuckles breathlessly before setting a bruising pace. You pull frantically at the cuffs because you need to get her closer to you, but it’s to no avail.

She sees you struggling but instead of letting you out, she just smirks and leans down to bite your neck. You hiss at her teeth and she sucks hard on a particularly rough thrust and it has you reeling.

“Oh god, feels so good,” you babble, head falling back against the wall and she curls her fingers deep. Pleasure skyrockets inside you, the blue and red lights from her cop car mirroring the fireworks through your body. It all bleeds together and you’re panting open-mouthed against her windbreaker as she fucks you.

“You’re just a desperate slut for me,” she repeats and you nod again because that’s all you can say. “Willing to risk getting arrested just to get my fingers back inside you—fuck, you feel so good—god, I wish I would’ve packed tonight.”

That makes you gutturally moan and your cunt throbs at the thought of her turning you around, hiking up your skirt, and shoving her big, purple strap into you, the one that always took you some time to work up to, to teach you a lesson about wasting her time.

“Maybe next time I’ll actually sell cocaine,” you say breathlessly and she laughs before twisting her fingers roughly.

“You would if it meant you got fucked,” she retorts and her free hand loosely grabs your neck. Even the slight pressure is enough to make you dizzy and the pleasure heightens. Your core is tightening, walls clenching tightly around her fingers, head spinning—she’s too good.

“Just by you,” you choke out. “Only by you, fuck, daddy—Agnes, I’m gonna—”

She curls her fingers again and rubs against your g-spot. “Come for me, baby girl.”

Her thumb swipes at your clit and you fall over the edge, your cunt convulsing around her fingers as she steadily keeps pumping them in and out of you. If you listen closely enough, you can hear your wetness squelching and you can certainly still feel it on your upper thighs.

Agnes pulls out of you slowly and you grimace at the sudden emptiness that fills your cunt. She cleans her fingers off in her mouth while you watch transfixed. She lets out a low groan at your taste and your clit aches again.

Will she take you back to her place? Does this change anything?

You hope both answers are yes.

She turns you around by the shoulders and you blink at the building, confused for a second, before you feel her hands on your wrists.

“Fuck,” she mutters.

There’s a click and your right hand is freed and then another click and the metal restraints are gone.

You face her and flex your wrists behind your back before raising them up and you see why she cursed. Your skin is scratched and burned from your struggling, specks of blood dotting in a ring.

She gingerly grabs your forearms and rotates them to assess the damage. Agnes has never used real handcuffs on you, ones that couldn’t easily be broken out of, and you can tell she feels bad.

“You can buy me dinner to make up for it?” you suggest playfully. She looks at you, eyes earnestly searching your face for something you’re not quite sure of, but after a moment, she nods and puts an arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you cleaned up first,” she murmurs, walking you to her car, and you have to tilt your head away so she doesn’t see the dopey grin on your face.

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agnes o'connor #agnes x reader #covsfics

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valiwrites · 1 month ago

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reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

part1 part2 part4

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

masterlist

f1fannews ✔︎

liked by 735k users

f1fannews new videos of our favorite driver just dropped!! seriously, this guy is something else. the energy he brings and the pure heart he’s got—it's rare to see someone so genuine and down to earth. feel lucky to be able to watch him grow and do his thing. can't wait to see what’s next for him, he’s just getting started. truly blessed to be a fan of someone like him.

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user1 this is co cute he's wearing the senna shirt!!

user2 he's literally impersonating him tf

user3 how is he impersonating him what?? y'all are bothered by anything

user2 it's the fact that he hates being compared to senna yet he always makes a way to wear his merch 🙄

user4 the second slide is so adorable tho look at his smile 🥺

user5 he's just so happy to be there

user6 is there any way to buy that shirt he's wearing??

f1fannews yes!! just go on google and search senna shop and you'll find it there

user7 is this gonna be in the new drive to survive season?

f1fannews hopefully we see more of nico next season!

user8 he looks like christian coulson on the second video

user9 wait i kinds see it

user10 it's the angle 😭😭

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by mclaren, lando, valeyellow46, f1, maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 2.1m others

nicosantos this team makes me wanna commit a felony...i’m out here giving it my all, but the car’s acting like it’s on vacation. like, bro, are we racing or taking a nap? i swear, i’m ready to have a serious chat with it. still, out here doing laps like a champ, pretending i’m not crying inside. send help... and maybe some new tires.

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lando 😭😭

nicosantos fuck you too

user1 lando NORIZZ help

user2 my boy finally lost it 😭

user3 the caption is sending me

user4 lando nowins

user5 is he starting his beef with mclaren or lando hello

user6 probably both lmao watch ww3 happen

sebastianvettel what got you so mad sweetie

nicosantos you're next vettel

user7 SWEETIE LMAOO IM DYING

user8 OOP, nico's officially in his "i'm done" phase

user9 someone get this man a snack, he’s mad hungry for drama

user10 nico really out here acting like he’s the main character, huh?

user11 yo be bothered by anyone else

user12 nico santos, the personification of “don’t come for me unless I send for you”… but we didn’t send for you.

nicosantos what does that even mean 😭

enews ✔︎

liked by 123k users

enews there are rumors floating around that our mclaren rising star, nico santos, is having some heated convos with mclaren principal andrea stella about possibly leaving the team. but are they true? is our fave driver sticking with mclaren or moving on to another team? which one though? stay tuned, things are getting spicy

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user1 fr hoping nico stays with mclaren, he’s got mad potential, don’t mess this up!

user2 if he’s all talk and no results, maybe it’s time to go. mclaren doesn’t need the headache

user3 he's literally one of the best drivers out there

user2 i don't see a championship yet

user3 noo nicooo

user4 you'll survive

user5 he’s been putting in the work, mclaren’s the place for him to keep growing

user6 if he can't work with the team then he's not good for it (not hating just pointing out the facts)

user7 as much as i hate to agree with you i do. bc nico is so good at what he does and if he doesn't like it at mclaren he should leave

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mistakenot4892 · 1 month ago

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I'm trying to decide on which fic to work on next now that Thief of Joy is done. Figured since the previous post got some traction I might see if anyone has an opinion.

Leaving them vague partially because of word count, and partially because I think it's funnier this way.

#fanfic #pokemon #warframe #poll

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tsukimefuku · 11 months ago

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the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery.

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him.

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long.

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage.

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it?

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago.

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling.

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip.

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary.

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself.

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days.

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.”

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity.

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic.

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you.

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt.

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t... We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips.

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?”

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves.

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering.

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline.

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed.

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it.

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again.

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you.

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him.

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him.

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out.

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it.

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so.

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face.

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.”

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

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goodlucktai · 7 months ago

Note

13 with sunset duo :)))

dialogue prompts

13. “I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so.”

Raph probably would have been successful in sneaking to his room if Mikey hadn’t decided to swing by the kitchen for a snack refill. When he flicks the light on, his biggest brother freezes mid-step cartoonishly and they both just stare at each other, one caught, the other confused.

“Uh, hi,” Mikey says. “Is your Goon Gala with Casey over already?”

It’s what the former Foot recruit calls it when she and Raph get together to be rowdy and reckless and somewhat violent but like recreationally. Full throttle vigilantism. Mikey tagged along once and was so exhausted by the end of the night he had to be carried home—allegedly!!

The twins quietly disapprove, but they haven’t ratted Raph out to pops yet. They probably think the same thing Mikey does; that it’s good that Raph has something that’s his. It would be better if it was something safer, shared with someone slightly less likely to commit felonies for fun, but it’s a start.

“Uh, yep,” Raph says awkwardly, standing kind of sideways. “Raph’s actually pretty wiped, I was gonna—”

Mikey’s eye for color pings. That’s the only explanation for why his subconscious was like hey something’s wrong about this picture and his gaze flicks down to follow the thought.

It lands on the hilt of a knife sticking out of the thigh Raph is trying to keep out of view. Deep red drips down his knee.

Mikey drops the empty popcorn bowl, stray unpopped kernels scattering across the floor.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s okay,” his brother says quickly, heading off the very loud reaction he can sense building up between them like an active geyser. “Shh, Mike, come on. I’m fine.”

It would work a lot better if one of the two hands he held up to shush him wasn’t bloody. Mikey’s panic wracked up another three levels automatically.

“I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so–”

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote.

“Don’t language me!!” Mikey says shrilly. “What happened? No, don’t answer that. I know what happened, you got stabbed. You should be in the infirmary already! You go, and I’ll get—”

“No!” Mikey is grabbed by the shoulders, actually lifted off the floor so he and his brother are eye-to-eye the way Raphie has a bad habit of doing when tensions are high as Raph goes on, “Leo doesn’t need to know. I’ll take care of it.”

Mikey blinks, processing that. It takes a minute, because it might be the stupidest thing this particular brother has ever said directly to his face. And then he scowls.

When he bellows, “LEO!” it’s in that particular baby brother voice that gets every older sibling in a mile radius moving with gusto. If Donnie weren’t at April’s for the night he would have removed the kitchen wall to get there two seconds faster.

As it is, Leo tumbles into the room wild-eyed, probably wondering what the hell could have happened in the three minutes between Mikey asking him to pause the movie and this targeted attack on every protective instinct in Leo’s body.

It takes him a second to clock that Mikey is present and correct and just sort of dangling in Raph’s hands still. Then he leans against the doorframe, playing it cool. What a nerd.

“Guess this is where the party’s at,” he says, doing that thing where he manages to look at Raph without looking at him. “So what’s the cover fee? Any live music?”

He probably would have kept going, but he’s processing the scene with sharp eyes, and that’s about when he connects the blood on Raph’s hand to the blood on his leg. Every single ounce of disingenuous charm and cheer evaporates from him instantly. His smile drops like a ton of bricks.

“What the fuck, Raph?” Leo says in a tone Mikey doesn’t know if he’s ever heard from him before. “Is that a knife? Casey let you get fucking stabbed?”

He moves while he’s talking, so fast that Mikey isn’t a hundred percent sure he didn’t actually teleport. He has the daisy-printed dish towel formerly hanging on the oven door in his hands and he’s kneeling at Raph’s side, wrapping it around his thigh and pressing down hard.

“Jesus, language,” Raph says, lowering Mikey to the ground before taking a resigned seat in one of the kitchen chairs. “Casey didn’t let me do anything. I’m fine, I’m handling it. You should see the other guy.”

“You’re—you’re handling it,” Leo parrots blankly, as if those words in that order don’t make any sense to him at all. “I should see the other guy. Is this a joke to you?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Raphael’s annoyance makes sense, since Leo has adamantly refused to take anything seriously since he was given the leader badge to wear. If Leo slacked off before, he is pointedly doing the absolute bare minimum now.

He’s obviously trying to prove something to someone. Donnie just sighs when Mikey brings it up which means that he’s right but also that Donald isn’t going to break the disaster twins’ honor code by admitting out loud that he’s right.

“This isn’t about missing training,” Leo grits out, really, properly angry. “This is about you sneaking around with a knife sticking out of your leg and scaring Angie and letting me find out by accident instead of—I dunno—calling the second it happened? Were you just going to go yank this out of your leg in the shower and put a bandaid on it?”

Raphie is in pain, and his temper has been poked, so he replies, “For the past month you’ve been acting like nothing matters to you anymore! You’ve wanted nothing to do with me, you don’t want my advice, you don’t want my job—the job that’s always been mine, that pops took from me and just handed to you. So where’s the line drawn? For all I knew, you wouldn’t want to help with this, either.”

If Raph had slapped him, the look on Leo’s face probably would have been exactly the same as it is right now. He’s kneeling there on the floor and there’s blood staining his fingers and the big brother he adores so much is telling him right to his face that he thought Leo would have rather just let him bleed than help. And Leo let him think it this whole time, all because he had a point to prove.

Mikey folds his arms tight, tucking his hands away so no one sees if they start shaking. There’s a saying April quoted last week when she was working on a paper for her Introduction to Literary Journalism class, can’t see the forest for the trees. Mikey didn’t get it then, but it makes an unfortunate amount of sense now.

He knows better than anybody how much his brothers love each other. He doesn’t understand how they could be so blind to what’s right in front of them.

Raph is the kindest person in Mikey’s whole life and can always tell when a hit has landed too close to heart. Some of the anger coiled up inside him like an animal has no choice but to relax its jaw.

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” he admits. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to stop,” Leo says. It’s not a shout, but it’s loud, bouncing off all the polished surfaces until it fills the whole room. “Stop believing in me. Stop acting like I could ever be half the leader you were. Stop—stop getting hurt and acting like it doesn’t matter. What would we do without you?”

What will I do without you, he doesn’t say, when you’re not there for me to follow anymore?

Raph’s eyes are huge in his face, and he lifts his hands in an automatic response to a little brother hurting within arms reach, but Leo ties the dish towel and steps back. He’s doing the not-looking-while-looking trick again.

“Bleeding’s slowed. Let’s get you to the infirmary, big guy. Angie, Dad and Dee aren’t home so I may need your hands, okay?”

Leo always trusts Mikey to be able to help. It makes him feel three feet taller.

“You got it!” he says, hoping one of them remembers to clean up the kitchen before Splinter gets home and wanders into a crime scene.

When he heaves himself off the chair, Raph staggers a bit. Both his little brothers flock to either side of him instantly, and he says, “Raph’s just a little dizzy, that’s all. Let me lean on you guys for a bit.”

“Of course, Raphie,” Mikey says, willing to carry him if that’s what it takes.

“We gotcha,” Leo adds, every other thing he must be feeling back to being a well-kept secret behind every layer of armor he owns.

Raph puts his arms around them both and holds them close for the walk down the hall. He said he was dizzy, but his steps are steady. Everything about him is as steady as it’s always been. Mikey thinks he’s pretty good at sniffing out a scheme, but if he points out that Raph was only angling for a hug, then Leo’s going to run away like a feral cat who can’t tell the difference between affection and an attack.

So Mikey doesn’t say anything, and squeezes closer beneath the arm Raph has around him—smiling to himself when Leo squeezes closer, too.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #sunset duo #hamato michelangelo #hamato raphael #hamato leonardo #a team #my writing #prompt #anonymous #tmnt fic #me writing the tense part of this fic #my music on shuffle: H O T T O G O 💃🕺

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kyleemclauren · 2 months ago

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"Rednote heavily censors LGBTQ+ content!" As opposed to Facebook, whose moderation polices explicitly carve out exceptions to harass trans people; or Twitter, where the word "cisgender" is considered hate speech. Gay marriage only became legal across the country in mid-2015, let's not pretend we've always been some progressive utopia.

Biden, Trump, and Obama each deported over a million people. The border internment camps still exist. Even including the million+ Uyghur Muslims in detention, China's incarceration rate is still lower than ours. We're using prison slaves to fight the California wildfires right now.

It's possible to say a bunch of things in the US, but that's not because we have great free speech. It's because our censorship works by making it difficult to talk about an issue, not impossible. Our newspapers and social media are owned by giant corporations and billionaires. Pro-Luigi content is widely suppressed, pro-Palestine content is widely suppressed, and anything more left wing than reformist capitalism is routinely suppressed. There are no privacy laws, your car is spying on you. Your phone is selling your location. Your TV is selling your watch history. Your purchase history is for sale. Your search history is for sale. Your political party registration and whether or not you voted is for sale.

In the United States schools are banning books, credit card companies are banning porn, and YouTube will take away your income if you mention suicide or swear. God help you if you play a few seconds of copyrighted music.

A counsel of nine unelected people are absolute dictators here. They gave the president absolute immunity too, for anything he can credibly claim was an official act. Congress is elected by legal gerrymandering. Police officers have nearly absolute immunity to commit crimes. Billionaires can do whatever the hell they want. I don't know where the citizen democracy is when marijuana usage is still technically a felony, despite almost 90% of the country wanting it made legal.

There isn't jack shit we get for any of this, either. Our gun laws are atrocious. Our homelessness problem is out of hand. We don't get livable cities, transit, or infrastructure. We certainly don't have health care. Our job market is trash. Our wages are trash. Our food prices are outrageous. We barely fund our schools or pay our teachers. But we spend almost a trillion dollars a year on our military! I tried for a good 20 minutes to write a followup sentence for that wasn't just incoherent swearing, and this note is the best I came up with.

All of this is the tip of the iceberg, it's corrupt all the way down and there is no set of reforms that can possibly fix it. It needs to be torn down, and built again from scratch. There is no alternative, all we are going through is pointless suffering so billionaires can get richer. How long are we going to wait!? What signs are we looking for that something needs to change? How much more obviously broken does the system need to be before people are ready to leave?

We are in an abusive relationship, and we need to get out, now. China will keep my data safe from the US government, I'm damn sure of that.

#rednote #politics #censorship #tiktok #xiaohongshu #new constitution #political abuse

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rayan12sworld · 7 months ago

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💠💙Help, My Dad Is Fucking Someone My Age!!

By:sweetlolixo

Summary:

It’s time to face the facts: Lan Wangji, the venerable and high-esteemed Hanguang-Jun, the saviour that appears wherever the chaos is—his father—is a predator.

A predator! One that preys on young, innocent men that have barely come of age like himself! The scandal of it all! The impropriety! And of all people to commit such a felony—his very own father!

Or, when Lan Wangji takes Mo Xuanyu back to Cloud Recesses for the first time, everyone is mortified, especially Lan Sizhui.

Chapter:1/1

Words:3,099

Status:completed (no this fic is way too funny🤣🤣)

See, it wouldn’t be so bad if Mo Xuanyu didn’t look as young as he did. But he does! One look at that man and he just screams helpless twink. Lan Sizhui can’t even give his father the benefit of the doubt even if he wants to. Mo Xuanyu stands next to the almighty, thirty-five year old Hanguang-Jun, and he’s dwarfed instantly in comparison. His father couldn’t even rely on the excuse of plausible deniability, of ever having mistaken Mo Xuanyu’s age; he would have known right off the bat!

(Lan Sizhui’s never even seen a cultivator so small. Even the tiniest Lan women in the sect have waists bigger than… that.)

he had somehow taken one look at Mo Xuanyu and decided: yes, I hereby choose this boy to be my undoing, please tie him atop his donkey and ignore him as he bawls his eyes out, and when he becomes too tired to protest any further, kindly drag him inside my room!

His father has never, never, never let anybody into the jingshi. Never! And now one look at this small twink and he’s suddenly thrown all reason out of the window?! What the hell? As nice as Mo Xuanyu’s derrière is, was it really that worth it? (It was.)

All around him, people have begun talking. Hanguang-Jun has lost it!! He’s taken a young boy half his age to be his lover!!

I really, really, really, don’t want a twenty-one year old twink as my new mother, a-die!!!!!!

Hanguang-Jun is consorting with a boy half his age!! change into Hanguang-Jun is consorting with Yiling Laozu who has risen from the dead in the form of a twenty-one year old Jin heir’s body!! which isn’t really that much better, but still far more improved than, uh, the former.

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian recommendations #mxtx mdzs #wangxian fanfic #ao3 recs #the untamed #mdzs fanfic rec #mdzs lwj #lwj x wwx #Help My Dad Is Fucking Someone My Age!!#wangxian fic recommend #wangxian fic recommendation #wangxian fic rec #completed fic #funny fics #reactions au

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aspens-treehouse · 12 days ago

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Cuddy should keep House in line by threatening to take away his Wilson privileges, an essay:

Alternate title: Episodes that didn't happen in the show but are cannon in my heart and no one can convince me otherwise, a summery:

Observe,

- Episode starts normally, House is avoiding clinic duty and gets assigned a case no one else can crack, he wants to try something far fetched and Cuddy, per usual, says no and wonders to herself if he was perhaps absent the week they discussed ethics in med school. This time though, she puts her foot down and threatens to send Wilson to a conference every time House does something that gets the hospital sued, would land him with felony charges and prison time if brought up in court, or preemptively triggers a headache for the nice woman in HR who knows how long its going to take to fill out the paperwork and record official complaints from innocent bystanders the other hospital staff in the aftermath of his convoluted and most likely illegal attempts to treat patients -

House: does it anyway and commits medical malpractice™ calling her bluff (I do what I want + You're not my supervisor + This sign can't stop me because I can't read)

Cuddy: actually goes through on her threat and sends Wilson across the country for three days to attend a conference

House: surprised pikachu face

- This process repeats about a half dozen times before House stops trying to call her bluff and realizes she's actually going through with her threat and he’s not confident enough that he’ll be able to outlast her this time because he's already bored out of his mind without Wilson to mooch off of or use to trigger a breakthrough with their casual flirting banter -

Wilson: thirty minutes into the episode has been sent to so many events that he's only come into work one day since Cuddy started this battle of wills with House a little over a week ago

House: starts getting desperate after a full week goes by without Wilson, and malpractices harder to try and break Cuddy's resolve

- during all this we check in on Wilson having the time of his life traveling, staying in fancy hotels, and catching up on all the newest medical breakthroughs of the past year. This is cut together or split screened with House becoming more and more desperate to break Cuddy’s resolve with crazier and crazier schemes -

Cuddy: threatens to loan Wilson to another hospital for a month if he doesn't start behaving, and even shows House the forms (she found an old form in the bottom of her desk and put Wilson’s name on it, but House doesn’t need to know that)

House: panics and is on his best behavior for the rest of the day. He even signs his real name on his clinic hours instead of a juvenile joke name, and that's when Cuddy knows she's won

- The ducklings figure out something's wrong when House says 'good idea' when Foreman suggests a possible diagnosis for the case they're working on that the audience has definitely forgotten about because there's only been roughly five minutes of the episode where anyone's actually focused on the patient who is actively dying or something equally dramatic and horrible -

- Cue the ducklings doing all sorts of tests and pranks on House because this HAS to be an imposter, who are you and what have you done with our boss because this is either some sort of elaborate prank that House is pulling, or he got hit in the head and the brain damage is making him nice -

- About 90% of the episode is spent with the ducklings spying on House and snooping until Cuddy explains what she did after she realizes nothing's going to get done until they get answers -

Wilson: finally comes back and House goes back to malpracticing normal immediately

- bonus points if it's right after the ducklings get used to this new version of House and their blood pressure returns to a level that none of them have felt since they started working with House, only for it to immediately shoot right back up when Wilson steps foot in the hospital and House returns to normal -

House: now back to his usual antics, is able to save the patient with one of his far fetched ideas because oh yeah they're doctors and we have to pretend like they're actually doing their jobs as serious medical professionals and not just using the ethics guidelines and HIPAA as kindling for the dumpster fire that is the diagnostics department

- House and Wilson then go on a date after work have dinner and drinks together like normal coworkers, and fall asleep cuddling in House's bed watching movies and drinking a few beers on House’s couch (🎶five feet apart cuz they’re not gay🎵) -

Cuddy: is the real winner here because she managed to get House to meet his required amount of clinic hours during this whole scheme, which was the goal in the first place, and doesn’t have to report him to the board and submit him for formal review (she shudders to think how much of the hospitals budget would have to be spent on lawyers if anyone looked too closely at House and his team’s methods)

- Oh and some love song that definitely isn't a metaphor for House and Wilson plays as we zoom out and the credits roll -

#house md #hilson #malpractice md #hatecrimes md #gregory house #james wilson #lisa cuddy #princeton plainsboro #fannon #basically cannon anyway #headcanon #fanfic #house md memes #high effort shitpost #this started as a joke #this was originally a short joke in the tags I was writing when reposting a house md meme #I blinked and two hours had passed #I put far too much effort into this #in this essay i will

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happy74827 · 8 months ago

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I Can’t Get Enough

[Colt Seavers x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Fast relationships aren’t always a "bad" thing, especially when you understand the circumstances involved.

WC: 692

Category: Fluff? Spice/Lime? This is just babble honestly LMFAO

I needed to get this out of my head (and it’s my birthday 💃), so I apologize for how short it is 😅

『••✎••』

Relationships become something special really fast if they have a common passion and share the same dream. And I know that's cheesy, but it's also true.

You and Colt were living proof of this. Friends at the start of production, friends through Jody, and friends still. But not the same friends as you were before. No, because an incident brought you two together—and in my experience, nothing else does that.

It happened like sparks or firecrackers. There was a spark of attraction, and then one day, you looked at him, and your heart went boom. You'd never been with another guy before, but with Colt, it felt so natural. Like he was made for you, and you were made for him.

And when he came to your house dirty, bloody, and wet like a dog, you knew right away. It didn't matter what the cops said. It didn't matter how many times the local sheriff assured you he'd handle it. That night, in your house, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Colt was innocent. And you did everything you could to help him, even if it meant breaking the law and committing a felony.

And Colt...

Colt, for his part, did not care what you were doing when he came back. He just wanted you. And after all, it wasn't the first time that you'd seen him bloody and bruised. He was pretty realistic with his stunts, and you were used to seeing him come back from work covered in fake blood.

But when you saw him there at your doorstep, hands grasping the door frame, blood on his shirt, his eyes wild with panic... you knew.

And you couldn't let him go.

So you grabbed that shirt of his, and you kissed him.

That's the way it was between you. There was always something there. But it took a tragedy for you to notice it.

In my opinion, that's the best kind of romance. When it comes to relationships, I like it when the guy and the girl are in a crisis. That's the time you find out what someone is really like. What are they really like? Are they going to be there for you, or will they run at the first sign of trouble?

Colt ran into the rain. Colt ran to your house, and he trusted you. He trusted you to help him. That's why he went to you. Because he knew that you would be there for him and that you would be willing to do whatever it took.

He was right, too. Because when you saw him there on your doorstep, you didn't even think twice about it. He probably didn't predict that reaction, but was he complaining? Not in the slightest.

His hands went around you, and he pulled you in. He kissed you hard, and you could taste his blood and feel the coldness of his body. You knew you needed to get him out of the rain, so you pushed him into your house and locked the door behind you.

Everything after that? It was a blur. You didn't remember where you were. You didn't care. You were lost in him.

All you knew was that while you were holding onto him, and you were kissing him, and you were looking at him, he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Nothing else was important.

Nothing.

You and him, and the love between you, it was like a light that burned brighter and stronger than anything else in the universe.

And in the darkness of your living room, your clothes now soaked through from him, your heart pounding like a drum, you held onto him and refused to let go.

Just like that, you couldn't get enough of him.

So, yes, relationships do develop fast in these kinds of situations. I believe it's because the heart wants what the heart wants. And when the heart wants, it doesn't let go.

It won't be persuaded.

It won't be reasoned with.

And it won't stop until it gets what it wants.

And, evidently, you and Colt are no different.

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sitkowski · 1 month ago

Text

if my heart is a grenade you pull the pin ( nick folio x jolly karlsson )

pairing: nick folio x jolly karlsson

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ some d/s going on in here, mask kink, hand jobs, a dash of fear play, rough oral sex, clothed sex, choking, daddy kink, light degradation, come marking, aftercare.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: listen, this only exists because of jolly's stage look and i wanted folio to suffer a bit, which means everyone else has to suffer right along with him. that's it, that's the plot. title comes from "rat a tat" by fall out boy. ty as always to the pals who help me with thoughts for this verse, it wouldn't exist without you! thanks to @baddestomens for the read through ✨️

divider by @saradika-graphics 🌊

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || riptide verse masterpost || read on ao3

Even if Nick were looking where he was going, he probably wouldn't have seen Jolly standing in the hallway. But he’s distracted by his phone and bumps right into him. The apology dies on his tongue when he gets a good look at him. He's in his full stage gear for the start of the show; heavy black hooded jacket, his black mask and those newly added insufferable leather pants. All he can see of him is his mouth and his tattooed hands. For a few moments, Nick does nothing but stare at him, mouth hanging open a little. All he can do is blink rapidly as Jolly’s lips curl up in a smirk and he reaches up to put his hand beneath Nick’s chin and close his mouth for him.

“You really should watch where you’re going, pretty.”

“Oh fuck you,” Nick says, practically whining. “This isn’t fucking fair.”

He’s got to remind himself that he loves this man and that he does not want his bandmates to murder him for doing something like begging his boyfriend to wear literally anything else on stage, or else he’s going to quit. But Nick is only human, and having to look down at Jolly on stage looking like he’s about to commit a felony is some sort of circle of hell. It’s irrelevant that he also wears the mask, that Nicholas and Noah do too. He’s not in love with them, he doesn’t think about them doing ungodly things to him while wearing said mask. Well, maybe he thought about it once, but that’s between him and his hand.

Since he can’t really verbalize how incredibly sexually frustrating this new look is without Jolly giving him the hardest time about it, he decides silence is his best course of action. But he doesn’t even get the chance to be the bigger person because Jolly’s backing him further into the hallway. Nick’s phone screen has gone dark, and with Jolly’s body blocking the light, he has to swallow hard against the images in his head.

“You look scared of me,” Jolly’s voice is all soft edges and Nick feels a shiver run down his spine. “Or is it something else?”

“No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah?”

Nick knows that he could just sink to his knees right here in this dark hallway, and no one would notice them at all. Not like it would have been the first time. Jolly keeps stalking towards him, until there’s nowhere for him to go except to knock against the wall. For some dumb reason, he puts up a hand as if to ward him off, but Jolly just laughs at him, pushing forward until there’s mere inches between them, Nick’s hand trapped against both of their chests. He reaches down, and Nick squeezes his eyes shut when he closes those fingers around the bulge in his pants.

“So horny and scared then,” Jolly leans in and Nick can feel the fabric of the mask brush against his face. “I can work with both.”

Just like that he steps away, spinning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction as if the exchange never happened, humming to himself as he goes. Nick’s breath leaves him in a rush and he stares after him in disbelief. He can’t help but think that chasing him down and tackling him might be the only way he’s going to make it through this show alive.

“Fuck you and your leather pants!” he calls after Jolly, muttering to himself as he reluctantly starts to follow. “I don’t care how fucking good you look in them.”

It’s a miracle he makes it through the night. He’s pretty sure they all took a picture together, and he knows that the show was good but he couldn’t describe a single thing in detail about it to anyone. At least, nothing he’d want to share out loud. How could he tell them that he spent the entire show hard and breathless thinking about what Jolly meant earlier? By the time everyone’s hanging out in the dressing room coming down from the adrenaline rush of the show, Nick’s still thinking about Jolly in his stage clothes even as he’s sitting there in his HV hoodie and sweats.

His mind has already gone through five different scenarios, each one filthier than the last, before they’ve even left the venue. And judging by the look that Jolly keeps giving him, he knows. He’s reading his mind and probably planning something absolutely diabolical. It’s not until they’re flying back home that Nick realizes he never saw Jolly adding his stuff to the wardrobe trunk like Nicholas and Noah did. He can see the empty hangers in his mind where his things were meant to be.

If there’s one thing Nick has come to count on in his relationship, it’s Jolly’s ability to learn something and use it against Nick every way that he can. In every way that he could ever want. Jolly calls it being attentive, Nick calls it sexual terrorism. He knows it’s still done with love but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t suffer a little. He’s on edge the second they get home because he knows that Jolly is up to something. Even if he acts like everything is fine and normal.

When Nick comes home from hanging out with friends and finds the house in total darkness, he can practically hear the Jaws theme playing in his head because he knows that he isn’t alone here. He starts to turn on a light and then thinks better of it, instead working his way down the hall slowly. His heart thuds in his chest, every shadow could be Jolly standing there and he wouldn’t even know it. That doesn’t stop him from going along with this though.

“Marco!” he calls out as he enters the kitchen, just for the hell of it.

Nothing but silence greets him, and he feels the tension growing in the air. When he sets his keys and his phone down on the counter, the sound is ten times louder to his ears. Nick tries to listen for anything that might indicate where Jolly could be. He knows that he isn’t going to make this easy for him. The next logical place for him to go is the bedroom, and each step leaves him on edge, his breath rattling. He’s also hard as a rock but that’s almost secondary to the fear crawling over his skin. Almost.

He knows their house by heart, he could walk through it blindfolded and not run into a thing. So getting from the kitchen to their bedroom isn’t exactly difficult. He didn’t bump into any tall Swedish men hiding in the darkness, and he’s almost disappointed until he stops by the bed and realizes that there is something in front of the windows that wasn’t there before, and Nick’s eyes adjust to the barest amount of light coming through just as that shadowy shape starts to move.

“Get undressed.” Jolly tells him, that same edge to his voice he had at the venue.

Nick’s mouth goes dry, but he starts to fumble out of his clothes like he was told. He leaves everything in a pile on the floor, and barely sees it when Jolly moves closer to him. This time, in the darkness of the room, he sees nothing of his face or hands. He is a shadow, and again all Nick wants to do is get on his knees for him.

When Jolly’s close enough, he reaches up and hooks his finger beneath the chain around Nick’s neck, giving it a pointed yank. “C’mere, pretty.”

He moves obediently, until he can feel the fabric of Jolly’s coat against his bare skin. He reaches up blindly, the texture of the ski mask unmistakable beneath his fingers. Nick moves his hands around until he finally finds Jolly’s mouth, and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip.

“You should keep your hands to yourself,” Jolly gives Nick’s necklace another tug. “Shouldn’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Nick immediately brings his hands back down to his sides. He doesn’t so much see Jolly move as he feels the air around him shift, and then the room is bathed in the soft light from the lamp on the nightstand. He almost lets out a breath of relief that he’s going to be able to see him. But then Jolly steps back in front of him and he looks just as intimidating as he did backstage, except now he’s got Nick completely exposed. He’s so hard that he’s dizzy with the contrast of him being naked and Jolly being dressed. All he wants to do is touch himself and relieve some of the pressure but he waits. He knows Jolly and he knows he’s going to enjoy whatever plan he’s come up with here.

With the hood up, it’s impossible to see anything but the hint of Jolly’s mouth and Nick lets his eyes roam over him greedily. Inhaling sharply, he brings his eyes back up. “What are you going to do to me?”

Jolly laughs at him and the sound crawls down his spine. He steps close again, and the tips of his fingers slide up the underside of his cock, feather light and teasing. Nick waits for those fingers to close around him but they don’t. He can hear the whisper of fabric as Jolly tilts his head to the side, and he doesn’t need to be able to see his face to know how he’s looking at him.

“Tell me your safeword, Nick.”

Hearing him say his name like that pulls at something low in Nick’s gut. They don’t need a safeword that often, he can count on one hand the amount of times they’ve used one. But sometimes it’s necessary, especially when Jolly plans to push Nick’s limits. “It’s Harley.”

“Good boy,” Jolly says, bringing his hand up to cup Nick’s cheek tenderly. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.” Nick leans into the touch instinctively, even as his entire body tenses up at the idea that this is about to go another direction. He’s prepared, he tells himself, “I love you too.”

“Remember that I love you, because I’m about to treat you like I don’t.”

It’s his only warning before Jolly pushes on his shoulder and shoves Nick down to his knees. He hits the floor hard enough to draw a surprised moan from his throat.

"I want your cock in my mouth," he blurts out, brazenly sure that’s exactly what Jolly wants to hear. “Please, let me—”

Jolly’s hand grabs onto his jaw, silencing him. “Who said this was about what you want?”

Nick’s eyes widen and he can’t help but play it up a little. He presses into the hold on his face until he’s close enough to put his forehead against Jolly’s leg. For a few moments, he doesn’t think he’s going to let him go but then his hand moves and Nick rubs his cheek against the leather in thanks. He sees Jolly push his jacket out of the way as he reaches to undo his pants, only opening them enough to get his cock out. Nick rolls his eyes upward, seeing nothing in the darkness of the hood and mask.

“You wanna be nothing but a warm mouth so bad, go ahead.”

In any other scenario, Jolly wouldn’t say something like that to him and really mean it. He wouldn’t try to make Nick feel bad about it. Nick isn’t surprised by how much he’s into this, the thrill that Jolly all but throwing him to his knees gave him. How each thing he says to him has that mean edge that worms its way under Nick’s skin. He turns his head to drag his lips up the side of Jolly’s cock. He’s gentle about it, careful, pressing kisses along his shaft. Jolly’s fingers tangle in the longer part of Nick’s hair and he pulls his head back.

“I thought you wanted my cock in your mouth, not to tease me.”

“Then make me take it,” Nick says. He’s practically begging at this point. “I’ll tap out if I need to.”

He knows that Jolly doesn’t like the idea of taking away his ability to speak if they’re going like this, but Nick trusts him. He might push Nick’s limits, but he’d never ignore them. Nick feels Jolly’s hand flex against his head before his other hand comes up to wrap around the back of his neck. Immediately, Nick’s eyes fall shut and he opens his mouth. Jolly might be making him take this as his cock slides past Nick’s lips none too gently, but Nick still has all of the power.

He relaxes his jaw, and lets Jolly pull him back and forth on his cock. His hands find purchase in the fabric of Jolly’s jacket, and he’s aware of each soft, choking sound he lets out as Jolly fucks his mouth. Somehow, he manages to get his eyes to open and he looks upwards, seeing nothing through the hazy tears in his eyes or the shadows around where Jolly’s face should be. It’s a mindfuck, and he likes it. He thinks of that night in the parking lot of the Mayhem festival, on his knees where anyone could have found them. Somehow, this tops that moment for him.

“You’re a fucking mess,” Jolly moans above him as he pulls almost all of the way back out and shoves back in. He’s not rough about it, just precise. “Look how easily you’re taking it, like this was all you were made for.”

Nick is a mess, drool and tears all over his face, spit dripping down onto his chest. He thanks some higher power that he doesn’t really have much of a gag reflex left as he feels Jolly’s cock nudge the back of his throat, and he moans around him as if to agree with everything he’s saying. He swallows around him as best he can, and grabs onto Jolly’s thighs for better balance. The edges of his mouth burn and he tries to shuffle closer. A quick flash of teeth against the underside of Jolly’s shaft has him shouting. Nick feels his hands tighten in his hair as he pulls him onto his cock again before holding him there for a few fleeting moments.

Jolly lets out another moan above him before he pulls out quickly. His cock slides along Nick’s cheek, smearing wetness and adding to the mess. Nick uses the opportunity to pull in a few precious lungfuls of air, his throat burning.

“Yeah, we’re done, pretty,” Jolly lets go of his hair and Nick blinks rapidly, watching as he wraps his fingers around his cock and stroking himself. “Sit up straighter.”

Nick manages to pull himself up onto his knees like he wants, raising his chin. He longs to be able to see Jolly’s face, to be able to watch his eyes as he comes undone, but he settles for this, knowing the reward is going to be worth it. The head of his cock grazes Nick's face and his lips, and Nick darts his tongue out when he can, wanting nothing more than for Jolly to come for him now. The sound of erratic Jolly's breathing is distorted by the hood and mask concealing his face, but Nick feels the muscles in his thighs trembling beneath his hands. He's so close he can taste it.

"Please," Nick begs again.

Jolly lets out a noise that is half laugh, half growl. "Please what?"

"Please daddy," Nick doesn't miss a beat. "Please come for me. Come on me, I don't care, just do it."

He barely finishes speaking before Jolly’s coming hard, over Nick's chest and stomach and his cock. He tries to run his hands through the mess and pull it into his mouth to taste, but Jolly's moving back so suddenly that he falls forward on all fours, hands skidding on the carpet. Looking up through his hair, he sees Jolly tucking his cock away before he starts to shrug out of his jacket.

He settles onto his knees in front of Nick, pulling the mask off and using it to wipe the mess off of Nick's face tenderly. The material rubbing against his skin doesn’t feel the best, but he lets him anyway.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, and Nick lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Are you kidding?” he pulls himself back up. His voice is raspy and talking hurts but he still feels amazing. He’s pretty sure that it’s some sort of subspace that he’s wound up in. “God, that’s was fucking hot.”

“You were so good for me, so perfect…” Jolly presses kisses along his cheek and the edge of his jaw, petting his fingers through Nick’s hair soothingly. “What do you want, pretty? You can have anything you want right now.”

He doesn’t think he could wait long enough for Jolly to get hard again, and he doesn’t really have much left in him anyways. “Just touch me, Joakim.”

Jolly’s hand trails over his chest, and he gathers up some of his come. Nick thinks he’s going to feed it to him, but instead he reaches down and wraps his fingers around Nick’s cock in a tight grip. He lets out a sob of relief as he rocks up into Jolly’s fist. Jolly, in return, brings his hand up to clamp down on Nick’s throat, his eyes intense on Nick’s.

"Mine," Jolly whispers against the side of Nick's face as he leans in. "Every fucking part."

Nick's mouth falls open but no sound comes out, and his vision swims. He doesn't have the words to tell him that he's his, always, but he doesn't think he needs to tell him. It's obvious. Jolly’s strokes are just this side of too rough and absolutely what Nick wants right now.

"Come for me, Nicky, show me you're mine."

It's like a chain reaction, the way he tenses up tight and Jolly lets go of his throat at the same moment. Nick comes with a loud, choking moan, covering Jolly's hand. He falls forward again, and this time, Jolly is there to catch him.

Nick can honestly say he’s never been a bath kinda guy, but here he is; chest deep in water that smells suspiciously—in a good way—of sandalwood, his back resting against Jolly’s torso. Jolly had been insistent, and Nick had no choice but to let him bully him into the tub. It feels great, he feels as if he could go to sleep right here. He’s sure that was the entire point.

“How’s your throat?” Jolly asks.

Nick swirls his hands through the suds. “You know how you eat food and swallow a bite that’s too big?”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he laughs a little, feeling the itch in his throat. “I’m fine, Jolls. I won’t be doing any karaoke any time soon, but you didn’t hurt me.”

He knows that Jolly worries about that, hurting him when they get a little rougher with one another, but they were also perfectly capable of telling each other where their limits were. Jolly hadn’t pushed him past them yet. Leaning his head back further into Jolly’s shoulder, he looks up at him to make sure that he’s gotten his point across. Finally, Jolly gives in and nods, pressing a kiss to Nick’s forehead.

“You really liked it, didn’t you?”

“It scared me, not knowing where you were but knowing you were here somewhere waiting for me. I really liked it, yeah. Like, a lot.” Nick confirms.

After their bath, they put on comfortable clothes and Jolly immediately sat him down in the kitchen so that he could make him something to eat. All the sex in the world—and Nick had to admit that the sex was really fucking good—can’t compare to this. He watches as Jolly chops up peppers and sausages and adds them to a pan, humming to himself after as he rinses his hands, and all Nick can think is he’s going to marry this man. He’s going to spend forever with him, and maybe if they’re both ready for it down the road, they could have kids.

“Hey,” Jolly’s voice breaks into his thoughts and he reaches out to tip Nick’s chin up. “What’s got you distracted?”

“You, always.”

Jolly smiles brightly, and Nick almost asks him right then and there to marry him. But he also knows that Jolly was planning some sort of surprise proposal and even if he knew it was coming at some point, he wouldn’t take that away from him.

“You wanna stir that for me?” Jolly asks.

Hopping to his feet, Nick plants his hands on his hips and leans up to kiss him. He feels Jolly smile against his mouth before he pulls away and heads for the stove.

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae

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@kait16xo @wonh0z

#the riptide verse #jolly karlsson x nick folio #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #jolly karlsson fic #nick folio fic #bad omens smut #.ficbysitkowski

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