#it makes sense and no one is exactly at fault

[chosok-amo]

FILM 01. OOPS! WRONG ROOM!

☆ sum. because of yuuji’s stupid prank, you decided to give him the taste of his own medicine and prank him in the middle of the night. but, because, sometimes, in the middle of the night you lack common sense, you accidentally climb the wrong room and end up in his older brother’s room.

warning. non-sorcerer au, fluff, harsh-words (curse, etc), crack, sukuna accidentally slap you :').

☆ , DECEMBER, WHEN WINTER FINALLY COMES

11 PM.

you stand in front of the two-story house, a determined look on your face and a backpack slung over your shoulder, weighing heavily with the tools of revenge you brought along. the night has fully settled, with the sky draped in inky darkness, only broken by the faint glow of the moon. a cool breeze brushes against your face, making you pull your jacket tighter around yourself as the branches of nearby trees sway and scrape against one another, filling the quiet night with an eerie creaking sound. in the distance, the faint chirping of crickets echoes through the silence, adding to the sense of stillness.

you glance at your reflection in the darkened window of a parked car, catching sight of your hair in the moonlight—a sickly shade of blue that catches your eye and makes you clench your fists. “yuuji itadori,” you mutter under your breath, teeth clenched. the anger flares up in your chest again, hot and insistent. it was all his fault. that idiot and his stupid pranks. you’d thought you could trust him, that he was just being nice when he suggested a “fun” hair treatment. but now, thanks to him, your hair looked like a mess, a ridiculous blue that was nothing like the color you’d agreed on.

tonight was the night for revenge.

you sling the backpack higher on your shoulder, its contents shifting slightly, and mutter to yourself, “say goodbye to your precious hair, you fucking bastard.” you know yuuji’s going to regret the day he ever thought of pulling a prank on you. your feet carry you to the side of the house, stepping lightly over the grass as you survey the windows. in all your visits here, you realize you never actually paid attention to where yuuji’s room is. that oversight might slow you down, but it won’t stop you. the anger bubbling in your chest is more than enough to keep you focused.

determined, you scan the side of the house, eyeing each window in turn. your gaze falls on a room with a tiny balcony, faint light seeping through the curtains. you pause, hearing muffled laughter. a grin spreads across your face—of course, that has to be his room. the laughter sounds like yuuji’s, and who else would be awake and laughing at this hour? you take a deep breath, suppressing a triumphant chuckle of your own.

carefully, you approach the thick, sturdy tree beside the house. its branches stretch outward like bony fingers, offering you a path up toward that balcony. your fingers brush against the rough bark as you grab hold of the lowest branch and hoist yourself up. the tree is old, its bark rough and uneven, making it easy to grip, but the branches are high enough that you have to stretch and carefully pull yourself from one to the next. the creak of wood under your weight fills the air, and for a brief moment, you freeze, afraid that you’ve made too much noise. but the house remains silent aside from the faint sound of yuuji’s laughter filtering through his window.

one branch at a time, you climb higher, your heart pounding harder with each step. the wind catches your hair, making the blue strands sway in the breeze, reminding you exactly why you’re here. the closer you get to that balcony, the more your grin widens. this is it. you’re almost there.

as you near the last branch, excitement pulses through you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by a rush of fear as your foot slips on a patch of moss. in a split second, you’re thrown off balance, and your heart skips a beat. you gasp, feeling yourself sway, and instinctively, you blurt out, “oh shit!”

your hands fly to the trunk, gripping it tightly as you hug the rough bark, holding on for dear life. your heart hammers in your chest, pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, the reality of what almost just happened sinking in. the cold bark scratches against your cheek, but you don’t dare move, frozen in place, caught between relief and lingering fear.

after a few seconds, you force yourself to loosen your grip slightly, taking a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart. glancing up, you see the branch you were aiming for, just a bit higher. it’s within reach, but now, your legs feel a little shaky. the thought of slipping again makes you hesitate, but your anger and determination to get back at yuuji push you forward.

with renewed caution, you carefully adjust your footing, triple-checking each step, and finally manage to reach that last branch. once you’re stable, you let out a sigh of relief, silently thanking whatever luck you have left. hugging the trunk one last time for reassurance, you shift your focus back to your mission—yuuji’s room is just within reach.

at least that’s what you thought.

finally, you reach a branch that stretches close to the balcony. it’s a little risky, a bit of a jump, but you’ve come this far. you steady yourself, crouching on the branch as you judge the distance. taking a deep breath, you lean forward and make the jump, landing on the narrow balcony with a soft thud. you quickly grab hold of the railing to steady yourself, glancing at the window to make sure your entrance hasn’t been noticed.

through the gap in the curtains, you can just make out yuuji lying on his bed with his back on you, his phone in hand, laughing at something on the screen. completely oblivious. perfect.

you reach into your backpack, pulling out the can of temporary neon green hair dye. it’s obnoxious, bright enough to be seen from space, and will make yuuji’s hair look ridiculous. it won’t be permanent, but he’s going to have a hell of a time trying to wash it out. satisfied with your plan, you pop open the lid, taking a quick glance through the window to make sure he’s still distracted.

you carefully, silently ease the window open just enough to slip inside. his laughter continues, completely oblivious to the danger creeping up beside him. your footsteps are soft as you step onto the carpeted floor, your eyes locked on yuuji as he scrolls through his phone, still chuckling to himself. you can’t help but roll your eyes—of course he’d be laughing when he’s about to get pranked himself. irony at its finest.

but. . .

your heart stops as the person on the bed snaps around, and before you can even react, a startled scream tears from his lips. his hand flies out in reflex, catching you square across the cheek and sending you sprawling back onto the carpet with a sharp, stunned yelp. pain radiates from your cheek, your vision blurring slightly as you clutch the spot where he struck you.

“oh, fuck!” you groan, the sting spreading across your face. you struggle to sit up, blinking away the dizziness. the reality of the situation hits you hard as you finally look up and realize… this isn’t yuuji.

no, it’s his older brother, sukuna.

he sits on the bed before standing up in quick motion, his eyes narrowing as they bore into you, a mixture of irritation and dark amusement flickering in his gaze. his face is almost identical to yuuji’s, but the atmosphere is entirely different—cold, intimidating, and absolutely confused.

sukuna’s eyes rake over you, taking in your presence in his room. it quickly changes from surprise to annoyance. “what the hell are you doing here?” he snaps, tossing his phone aside. he crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing. “and how did you even get in here?”

you can feel the tension in the room growing palpable. he’s clearly not happy about your unexpected entrance, and your cheek is still throbbing from where he hit you. you swallow hard, struggling to find your voice amidst the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you, his brows furrowing as he takes in the sight of you, sprawled on the carpet. his irritation is apparent, but there’s also an underlying hint of curiosity, like he’s trying to figure out what to make of this unexpected intrusion. “care to explain what you’re doing in here, sneaking around like a damn rodent?” sukuna growls, his voice sharp and impatient. “yuuji didn’t invite you here tonight, did he?”

sukuna stands there, hands planted firmly on his hips now, sharp eyes taking in every detail of your appearance. he recognizes you vaguely; he’s seen you hanging around his house on occasion, always with yuuji and his usual group of idiotic friends. though he’s never bothered to learn your name or really acknowledge your presence, your face has become familiar enough to him that he can place you instantly. he watches you carefully, as though trying to piece together why you would take such a risk to sneak into his room, of all places, with such an audacious plan.

your head shakes in small, hurried movements, your hand still pressed against your cheek, trying to muffle the sting from his slap. “n-no… yuuji didn’t invite me,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you bite your lip to keep from wincing aloud. your fingers press gently against the sore spot, feeling the heat rising under your skin where his hand had connected.

“i thought you were him,” you admit, the explanation sounding weaker with each passing second. sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes flicking from your cheek to the blood at the corner of your lip. he just stands there, one hand on his hip while the other falls flat on his side, eyes narrowed, sizing you up like he’s assessing a stray cat that’s somehow wandered into his territory.

sukuna’s eyes narrow, watching every move you make, his irritation not softening in the slightest. he moves to sit on the edge of his bed, crossing his arms over his chest once again, looking down at you with a mixture of annoyance and mild interest. his gaze flickers from your swollen cheek to the faint trace of blood on the corner of your lip.

“you thought i was yuuji?” he repeats, voice laced with disbelief, as if the very idea of being mistaken for his younger brother is an insult in itself. “how do you even confuse the two of us?” his tone drips with condescension, his gaze searing into you as you struggle to sit up, holding your cheek to ease the throbbing pain.

the adrenaline is still making your head spin, and your cheek stings with every slight movement. “i don’t know, i…i just came to prank him,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper as you bite your lip, trying not to whimper at the soreness radiating from where he slapped you. “i thought you were him.”

sukuna scoffs, clearly unimpressed with your explanation. he stands up, towering over you, placing his hands on his hips once again as he gives you a once-over. “right. and now you look like a kicked puppy,” he mutters, almost like he’s annoyed that he feels the slightest bit of guilt over the reflexive slap. he rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, as if your injury is an inconvenience to him.

“you’re bleeding, you know,” he says with a grimace, nodding toward your lip. “might want to do something about that.”

your hand flies up to your mouth, fingers brushing over the blood at the edge of your lip. you wince as the pain flares up, and sukuna watches with an unreadable expression as you dab at the spot, failing to hide the pained hiss that escapes your lips.

“for someone sneaky enough to climb a damn tree and break in, you’re pretty fragile,” he comments dryly, his eyes still fixed on you as if trying to make sense of the situation before fixed to the spray hair dye beside you on the floor for a second. “what the hell were you planning to do, anyway? spray yuuji’s hair while he’s sleeping and hope he’d just laugh it off?”

you nod, feeling a little foolish now under his intense gaze, the can of hair dye still lying on the carpet where you dropped it. “it was just supposed to be harmless fun,” you mumble, glancing down, feeling a bit exposed under his scrutiny.

sukuna’s lips twitch into a smirk at your explanation, his annoyance softening into amusement, though it’s laced with a hint of disbelief. “harmless fun?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “so, you thought it would be funny to sneak into our house and mess with my brother while he’s sleeping?”

his tone is sharp, the words falling from his lips with an edge that stings more than the slap, his eyes never leaving you as you sit there, holding your cheek. it’s obvious he’s not buying your excuse, but he’s too damn entertained to show it.

you let out a long sigh, resigning yourself to the ridiculousness of the situation. shifting to sit cross-legged on the carpet, you look up at him, feeling a spark of defiance flaring back up. “did you see my hair?” you ask, gesturing at the strands of blue cascading down your shoulders. “it’s all yuuji’s fault.”

sukuna’s brow arches, his smirk widening as he watches you, clearly intrigued but still not entirely convinced. “is that so?” he drawls, folding his arms as he leans slightly against the bedpost, his gaze never leaving you. “and what exactly did he do that made you think you could just break in here?”

you roll your eyes, the memory of yuuji’s previous prank making you scowl slightly. “oh, he thought it’d be hilarious to dye my hair neon blue while pretending to help me dye my hair,” you explain, crossing your arms in annoyance. “i was just trying to get him back. didn’t expect the wrong itadori to be here.”

sukuna lets out a scoff, a sound that might be a stifled laugh. “so you wanted revenge, huh?” he says, his smirk growing wider. “and you thought breaking into our house and sneaking into my room was the way to do it?”

he steps closer to you, his eyes scanning over your figure, that smirk still dancing on his lips. “you’ve got guts, i’ll give you that,” he mutters, his voice a mix of annoyance and grudging respect. “but damn, couldn’t you have chosen a less idiotic plan?”

as sukuna takes a step closer, the sudden shift in his expression sends a jolt through you. instinctively, you scoot back, clutching at the fabric of your clothes as if that’ll somehow guard you from the piercing intensity in his gaze. the smirk on his lips is still there, but there’s something in his eyes—something unreadable—that makes your heart skip a beat.

“w-what are you doing?” you stammer, trying to sound firm, though your voice betrays you with a slight tremor. you don’t break eye contact, refusing to let him see any weakness, but your pulse is racing.

sukuna chuckles, low and dark, as he watches you. “relax,” he drawls, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk of his. “if i wanted to kick you out, i would’ve done it already.” he pauses, gaze flicking over you once more, as if he’s sizing you up. “just curious, that’s all. you break into my house in the dead of night, sneaking around like a cat burglar, and then you get all jumpy when i walk up to you? if anything, i should be the one asking what you’re doing.”

you grit your teeth, trying to steady your breathing. “i… i told you, it was just a prank for yuuji. i didn’t expect you to be here.” you try to keep your voice steady, hoping the indignation overshadows the nervousness bubbling under the surface. “and can you blame me for being cautious? you slapped me as soon as you saw me!”

his gaze softens, just for a moment, like he’s remembering the slap—and the faint tinge of guilt flashes across his expression before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. he gives a half-shrug, still smirking. “maybe i overreacted,” he admits. “but you barged into my room.”

sukuna lets out another scoff, this time a little softer, almost amused by your obvious discomfort. he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even further, and again, you involuntarily shrink back. the smirk on his lips grows wider, as if he’s enjoying how unnerved you are, despite your best efforts to hide it.

“relax,” he repeats, his voice a low, taunting rumble. “i won’t bite.”

his eyes never leave yours, studying your every reaction keenly, like he’s trying to catch every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. “you’re trembling,” he comments, a hint of mockery in his voice. “why, are you afraid of me?”

a pause as he crotch down, leaving just a few inches between you. his hand reaches out, moving towards your face, and you reflexively flinch at the unexpected touch. sukuna pauses, his fingers pausing just a breath away from your skin, before brushing over your swollen cheek. “does it hurt?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost concerned.

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you muster up a dry, sarcastic tone. “what do you think?” you snap, meeting his gaze without flinching this time, though your cheek still throbs from the sting. his fingers linger on your cheek for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if contemplating something. the concern in his voice had surprised you, but now you’re more annoyed than anything, wondering if he’s just toying with you for his own amusement.

sukuna’s lips twitch into a faint smirk at your response. “feisty, aren’t you?” he murmurs, clearly amused by your defiance. “guess you’re not as fragile as you look.” you huff, trying to ignore the way his hand feels against your skin, warm and oddly gentle. “did you expect me to just sit here and whimper?” you fire back, arching an eyebrow at him. “maybe you should work on your welcoming skills.”

he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver up your spine. “i don’t usually have uninvited guests,” he replies, his smirk widening. “especially not ones with the guts to talk back.” the tension between you both lingers, charged and heavy, as his hand falls away, leaving you to realize how close he is, still crouched in front of you.

sukuna reaches into the drawer by his bed, pulling out a small box and setting it on the carpet in front of you. you watch as he opens it, revealing a surprisingly well-stocked first-aid kit—cotton swabs, antiseptic wipes, bandages, and more.

“what… are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. the idea of sukuna, the one who slapped you moments ago, now tending to your wound feels too surreal. sukuna doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes focused as he pulls out a cotton swab and some antiseptic from the small box. he glances up at you briefly, his gaze unreadable, before he dips the cotton in the antiseptic. “hold still,” he says, his voice quieter, almost like he’s trying not to scare you off.

you feel your brows knit together, watching him suspiciously. “what are you doing?” you ask for the second time, shifting slightly as he leans in closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away.

“what does it look like?” he says, a slight edge of irritation coloring his tone, though he doesn’t break eye contact. “i’m cleaning up the mess i made.” he reaches toward your cheek, you instinctively tense up, but his touch is unexpectedly gentle. the antiseptic stings slightly as he dabs it onto your skin, and you can’t help but wince. he moves the cotton swab across your cheek, waiting a beat to make sure you won’t pull away.

“don’t be a baby,” he mutters, though there’s a faint trace of amusement in his tone. you roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “maybe if someone didn’t slap me…” you mumble, unable to resist throwing some sarcasm back his way.

sukuna lets out a snort, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “maybe if someone didn’t sneak into my room in the middle of the night,” he retorts, the edge to his voice lessening slightly as he continues tending to your wound. “can’t blame me for being startled, now, can you?”

his eyes are fixed on your face, his expression serious and focused as he works, and you struggle to keep yourself from reacting to his touch. despite his previous aggression, his movements are oddly careful, almost as if he was worried about causing you more pain. “i’m taking responsibility, aren’t i?” he retorts, but his voice is noticeably softer than before.

he continues to clean up the wound on your cheek, his gaze never leaving your face. his touch, despite the initial start, is careful and precise. there’s something almost tender about his actions, but his expression remains composed, revealing nothing more than mild annoyance. “you’re surprisingly docile when you’re quiet,” he notes, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.

sukuna’s eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, the hint of a knowing smile on his lips as he continues to gently apply the antiseptic, his touch both tender and precise.

you roll your eyes, letting out an exaggerated scoff as sukuna’s words sink in. “oh, i feel so honored,” you reply sarcastically, the dry bite in your tone impossible to miss. you lift a hand to feel the freshly placed bandage on your cheek, not sure if you’re more irritated by the sting or by the smug expression he’s wearing.

his words take you by surprise, the uncharacteristic compliment causing your cheeks to flush slightly. you open your mouth to shoot back a retort, but for some reason, the words don’t come as easily as they did before. “i… just don’t want to give you another reason to slap me,” you manage to stammer out, trying to sound defiant but instead finding yourself a little flustered.

sukuna lets out a chuckle, his eyes narrowing amusedly as he sees your flustered reaction. “you’re not as tough as you act,” he says, a hint of mockery in his tone. “i’ve seen scared rabbits with more backbone than you.”

he stops applying the antiseptic and sets it aside, his hand moving to grab a small bandage from the first-aid kit. his gaze drops back to your cheek, his expression strangely serious as he carefully applies the bandage. “you lucked out that i was in a good mood,” he adds, his voice quieter.

with a glare, you turn to really look at him, noting for the first time just how much he resembles yuuji—the same face shape, the same strong build. but the similarities end there. where yuuji’s face is open and kind, sukuna’s is sharp, his features only intensified by the black tattoos and those unsettling deep crimson eyes that seem to pierce right through you.

your gaze holds his, and you let out a low murmur, almost daring, “so... what would you do if you weren’t in a good mood, then? eat me?” you quirk an eyebrow, attempting to match his intensity, though there’s a part of you that’s not entirely sure if you’re joking.

sukuna’s lips twitch at your sarcastic response, his smirk widening as he watches your reaction. his eyes follow your hand, watching you touch the bandage. he notices the hint of irritation in your expression, but he seems to revel in it, his gaze sharpening as you meet his eyes.

at your question, his smirk turns into a wolfish grin, his eyes gleaming with an almost feral glimmer.

“maybe,” he replies, his voice dropping to a purr-like grunt, “if you keep testing my temper, who knows what i might do.” he tilts his head slightly, studying you with a mix of irritation and mild amusement.

sukuna’s smirk widens and his eyes roam over you with that bold, shameless look, you can feel your cheeks heating up against your will. his tone is low and teasing, each word laced with a dangerous, sultry undertone that makes your stomach flip.

you feel your cheeks flare up, and you can’t hide the way your body reacts to sukuna’s bold comment and the way his gaze trails over you with that dangerous glint. that smirk of his only gets wider, more amused, as he takes in your flustered expression making your stomach crunches. it’s like he’s toying with you, fully enjoying the effect he’s having.

sukuna’s eyes widen slightly at your unexpected kick, stunned for a moment before he lets out a laugh, his body thudding against the carpet. he lands flat on his back, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. he doesn’t sit up right away, just lies there, the smirk on his lips growing wider as he looks up at you, obviously finding your reaction very entertaining.

when he drops his voice and mutters that sultry, “i’ll make sure you feel good, though,” it sends a shiver through you, one that you quickly shake off. ignoring the warmth rising to your face, you roll your eyes and lift your foot, giving him a swift kick to the shoulder. it’s not hard, but it’s enough to send him sprawling back onto the carpet. “ugh, fuck off, you pervert,” you huff, crossing your arms as you glare down at him.

“pervert, am i?” he quips, raising an eyebrow as he runs a hand through his hair. “big talk from the one sneaking into my room at night, hm?” the smirk still on his lips as he gazes up at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that’s both infuriating and captivating.

sukuna pushes himself up to leans on his two elbows, looking up at you with that infuriating smirk still firmly in place. “seems i touched a nerve,” he purrs, his voice smooth and low. “all i did was say i’d make you feel good. you can’t honestly say that was perverted.” he pauses for a moment, his gaze flickering up and down your body in a way that feels almost like a caress. “i wonder,” he continues, his voice dropping to a murmur, “what other buttons i could push to get those cute little reactions out of you.”

your eyes widen as his words sink in, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flaring up inside you. with a gasp, you instinctively cross your arms over your body, as if shielding yourself from the weight of his gaze. “are you serious?” you sputter, heat creeping up your cheeks.

you quickly gather yourself, and before he has a chance to react, you reach out and give his shoulder a solid shove, enough to make him fall back onto the carpet with a thud. “you are such a pervert,” you snap, your voice laced with annoyance as you glare down at him.

sukuna lets out another laugh, unbothered by your shove. he lands back on the carpet, his body sprawled out once more. he doesn’t make any move to get up again, just lies there with that irritatingly smug expression on his face.

“you’re so sensitive,” he teases, his tone mocking. “i haven’t even done anything, and you’re already blushing. makes me think you secretly like it when i talk dirty.” he props himself up on his elbow, tilting his head with a smirk. “or maybe it’s just my charming presence.”

your eyes narrow at him, cheeks burning as you bite back the urge to say something that might fuel his ego even more. “shut up,” you snap, your voice laced with irritation as you glare down at him. sukuna’s smirk fades slightly as he looks at you, a curious glint replacing the usual cockiness in his eyes. he studies you for a moment, almost as if he’s seeing you in a new light. then, with a slight tilt of his head, he sits up, resting his elbows on his knees.

“what’s your name?” he asks, his voice a bit softer, though there’s still that edge of intrigue. you blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. it’s rare to see him ask something so straightforward without a teasing or mocking tone. for a second, it feels almost... genuine, like he actually wants to know.

“why?” you retort, trying to keep the edge in your voice despite the way his gaze makes your heart race.

he chuckles, leaning back slightly. “can’t a guy be curious?” he shrugs, his eyes not leaving yours. “i see you hanging around here often enough. figure i might as well know what to call the bold little intruder.”

there’s a playful glint in his eyes, but underneath it, there’s something that feels almost… sincere. you look at him with a mix of suspicion and surprise, narrowing your eyes as you try to gauge his intentions. why was he suddenly so curious? sukuna’s never exactly struck you as the type to care about formalities, much less asking someone’s name without some ulterior motive. but, still, under that sharp gaze of his, you feel a small sense of obligation to answer.

“…it’s y/n,” you mumble, the words slipping out almost involuntarily as you avert your gaze, feeling oddly self-conscious under his stare.

at the sound of your name, sukuna’s smirk softens into a slight smile. “y/n,” he repeats, testing the sound of it on his tongue. the way he says it makes your stomach flutter, like the smooth sound of a purr. the syllables rolling off his tongue like a low, appreciative rumble. there’s something about the way he says your name that sends a small shiver down your spine.

he eyes you for a moment longer, his gaze unreadable as he studies your face. his expression is surprisingly soft, the usual sharp edge of mockery missing from his eyes, replaced by a subtle warmth. “y/n,” he murmurs again, almost to himself. then, he grins. “a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

the compliment takes you off guard, your cheeks feeling warm under his gaze. you open your mouth to retort, to brush off his comment with some snarky response, but the words get stuck in your throat. sukuna clearly notices your reaction, his smirk widening into a cocky grin. “mmm, cat got your tongue?” he teases, his voice low and silken. “can’t handle a little praise?”

you feel your heart race as sukuna’s gaze lingers on you, his words lingering in the air like a heavy, unexpected compliment. it catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're left speechless, your mind struggling to come up with a response. you try to brush it off, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays the effect his words had on you.

“shut up,” you manage to stutter, but the words come out far softer than you intended. flustered, you quickly grab the nearest pillow and hurl it toward him with surprising force. it smacks him in the face, but you’re already on your feet, desperate to put some space between you and him.

as you mutter your frustration under your breath, sukuna watches you with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. your flustered reaction to his compliment, the way you tried to flee, only piqued his interest further. “aww, where are you going?” he calls out teasingly. “come back here, don’t be shy.”

“god, you’re such a pain,” you mutter, though it’s barely audible as you try to walk away, still feeling the sting of his compliment on your skin. sukuna lets out a low, amused chuckle as the pillow hits him. he sits up properly, grabbing the pillow from his face and holding it in his lap. his eyes follow you as you hurry to put some distance between you, a small smirk playing on his lips.

you pause mid-step, glancing back at him with a raised eyebrow, trying to ignore the way his amused tone makes your pulse quicken. crossing your arms, you tilt your head and give him a skeptical look, masking your own lingering embarrassment with a cool expression. “are you enjoying my company now?” you ask, your voice laced with dry sarcasm. “i thought you were annoyed that i showed up unannounced.”

sukuna grins at your reply, leaning back against the side of the bed, his demeanor relaxed and at ease. he holds the pillow up in one hand, absently tracing the edge with his fingers as his gaze locks on you.

“can’t it be both?” he responds, his tone nonchalant. “i’m annoyed at your lack of respect for personal space, but i gotta admit, you’re not entirely unpleasant to look at. or be around, maybe,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering over your figure. “and it was kind of funny watching you squirm just now.”

you let a slow smile spread across your face, folding your arms as you tilt your head, watching him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “oh? should i stay a bit longer then?” you say, your tone light and teasing, each word a subtle challenge.

sukuna lets out an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance as he pushes himself up to stand. he shakes his head, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “don’t push your luck,” he mutters, but there’s a flicker of something almost playful in his voice that undercuts the warning.

you let out a soft chuckle, uncrossing your arms and let it fall down to your side “oh, come on,” you say, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “i thought i was at least ‘not entirely unpleasant’ to be around. maybe you’re warming up to me.“

sukuna’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as you respond with a smirk of your own, a flicker of amused irritation crossing his face. he lets out a low scoff, not quite able to hide the hint of amusement in his voice.

“don’t get cocky,” he retorts, the warning tone in his voice contradicted by the playful glint in his eyes. “just because i called you pretty doesn’t mean i don’t find you irritating.” he takes a step toward you, his gaze never leaving yours as he crosses his arms across his chest. “and i never said i was warming up to...” he trails off, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a moment before shifting back up, meeting your eyes with an intense look. “i was just stating a fact,” he continues, his voice lowering to an almost whisper. “you’re not bad to look at, that’s all.”

you roll your eyes at him, letting out a small scoff. “asshole,” you mutter, crossing your arms defiantly. but before you can get too comfortable, you feel sukuna’s hands on your back, firm and insistent, as he starts to nudge you towards the window you came through.

a pout forms on your lips as you drag your feet, resisting slightly. “come on,” you whine, looking up at him with a mock hurt expression, knowing it’ll only irritate him more. “i still want to stay. you’re such great company, after all,” you add with a smirk, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

he lets out an exasperated sigh, his grip on your back firm but not rough as he tries to shove you out. “don’t push it,” he growls, his patience clearly thinning. you can see the twitch in his jaw, and the way his eyes narrow, as if he’s seconds away from throwing you out the window himself.

but you just laugh, twisting around to look up at him with a mischievous grin. “why are you so eager to get rid of me, huh?” you tease, leaning back slightly to stall his efforts. “is it, maybe because you just can’t handle my charm?”

sukuna’s eyes narrow at your relentless stubbornness, his grip on your back becoming even more firm as he tries to guide you toward the window. but you resist, planting your feet like a stubborn mule, and his irritation only grows. as you whine and pout at him, throwing sarcastic jabs at his expense, sukuna grumbles, his patience stretching thinner with every word you speak. he leans in, his face close to yours, his eyes locking onto your defiant gaze.

“your charm?” he mutters, his voice low and laced with annoyance. “more like your irritating persistence.” he gives you another forceful shove, pushing you closer to the window. “just go,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of finality. “before i change my mind and shove you out myself.”

you cling to the railing, balancing precariously on one leg as you tilt your head up at him, a playful pout on your lips. even with half your body hanging out the window, you’re determined to get one last rise out of him. batting your eyelashes dramatically, you lean in, giving him an exaggerated, innocent look. “are you sure you won’t miss me?” you ask in a sing-song tone, your eyes glinting with mischief. you can see his jaw tense, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he glares at you.

sukuna’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching at your relentless stubbornness and irritating persistence. he's tempted to throw you out the window right then and there, but your dramatic pose and exaggerated puppy dog eyes give him pause. “oh, please,” he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “you’re a headache, a nuisance. what would i miss about you?”

he’s clearly trying to hold back, to keep his emotions in check, but your audacity and lack of fear continue to rile him up. his eyes dart to the window, considering whether it would be better to simply push you out and be done with it, but there’s something about the cheeky sparkle in your eyes that makes him hesitate.

you let out an exaggerated sigh, clutching the railing as you give him your best pleading look. “come on, sukuna,” you whine, batting your eyelashes, “can’t i at least leave through the front door like a normal person?”

his expression darkens, an irritated smirk tugging at his lips as he leans in, his hand pressing firmly on your shoulder to keep you steady but clearly inching you closer to the edge. “you’re leaving the same way you came in,” he mutters, his voice low and laced with annoyance. you can’t help but grin, finding his exasperation oddly satisfying. “aww, don’t be like that,” you tease, “i thought maybe you’d warmed up to me by now.”

his jaw tightens, and he gives you another nudge, his patience clearly wearing thin. “i’m this close to tossing you out myself,” he growls, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, almost like he’s holding back a reluctant smile. with a little laugh, you swing one leg back over the windowsill, making a show of dragging out your departure. “fine, fine,” you say, raising your hands in mock surrender. “i’ll go. but i know you’ll be thinking of me after i’m gone.”

“out!” he barks, finally giving you a proper shove that sends you stumbling backward onto the balcony. as you regain your balance, you can’t resist flashing him one last smirk, blowing him a kiss just to rile him up one more time. his eye twitches, and he slams the window shut with a huff, leaving you on the balcony—but not before you catch the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

sukuna stands by the closed window, his hands clenching into fists, his jaw taut with irritation. he glares through the glass, his eyes fixed on your smirking figure. the last bit of patience he had snaps as you blow him a kiss, his expression darkening further. he slams his hand against the window, the sound echoing through the room. “get lost, dammit,” he mutters to himself, his voice carrying a hint of frustration.

you roll your eyes at his dramatic display, taking your sweet time as you turn toward the branch you used to climb up. “seriously,” you mutter under your breath, half amused, half exasperated. “he’s such a bipolar jerk.”

with one last glance over your shoulder, you see him still standing there, fists clenched and glaring daggers through the glass, as if you’d somehow infiltrated his inner sanctum and messed with his world. it almost makes you laugh—you can practically feel the annoyance radiating off him even from here.

“goodnight to you too, sukuna,” you mumble sarcastically, stepping onto the branch. as you begin to make your way down, you hear a faint, frustrated huff from inside. with a small, victorious smirk, you descend, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having left him riled up and flustered in his own room.

☆! TAGLIST :

@byerno6 @curtins @creamflix @m00nyt0astforever @starmapz @aerareads @loveperfectionchaos @jinxiewritings @batmanslobster @vitoshi @monic19 @jayathelostdragon @ureuphoriasworld @cvr2mya @satorustorm

[liahaslosthermind]

~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭~ Part 3

Part 3 of The Spy Master's Secret Find more ACOTAR works here! Summary: The Inner Circle meets the most important person in Azriel's life. Warnings: Lia rewrites what the Carranam bond is to fit her own fantasy, (Mention of) Bad injuries and domestic abuse, (Mention of) Azriel's dad 🤢, Inner Circle loves to STAY in Azriel's business, I actually write Rhys as not an asshole in this one

“My Carranam.” The Spy Master replied.

No one was given time to think, much less respond, before Azriel had commanded everyone to leave the room. They would have been more reluctant to do so, the desire to know what the hell he meant was painful, had the serious look on the strange female’s face, and the look of despair on Azriel’s, had given them the impression this conversation was better left between the two. 

Out in the hallway, Cassian finally voiced his concern, 

“Should we have left him alone with whoever that was? He isn’t in any state to be fighting back should he ne-”

Amren scoffed at the question. “I’d trust her with him far more than you all.”

 “What do you mean? Do you know her?” Elain asked.

“No, but he is her Carranam. You all might not know the significance of such a bond- I don’t even know much about it myself, but I know enough to believe there is no one who would protect and cherish him more.” There was a sort of amazement and respect in Amren’s eyes that told the rest of them that she was right. Gave them enough information to walk away from the bedroom, content on letting Azriel come to them when he was ready.

—

The Inner Circle was no longer content waiting for their Spy Master to make an appearance. All had been sitting at the dining table for what must have been millenia, plates full with no appetite as millions of questions swarmed their heads. Amren had seemingly been the only one to have any idea what any of this could have meant, but the second she got the chance, she disappeared so she wouldn’t be bothered with questions about something that had nothing to do with her. 

Finally, Nesta broke the silence.

“Do you think he is purposefully trying to torture us by taking forever?” She asked, eyeing the very apparent shadows in the corner that had been slithering to and from the room since they had all sat down. “Or do you think she is-”

“It would be my fault Azriel was occupied for a bit.” The strange fae announced as she entered the room, Azriel by her side with a slight limp. The two looked… strange together, but also so right. White feathered wings stood tall behind the female, nicely contrasting Azriel’s leathery Illyrian ones. Where he was crowned in darkness and shadows, she seemed to have bathed in light. It should have contrasted each other terribly, but their stark differences only seemed to compliment the other.

It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how their friend looked thousands of times better than he did just hours earlier.

He was still clearly injured, but far from the edge of death he teetered on these past few days.

“How? Madja could only do so much for him.” Rhysand asked, astonished at how well his brother looked.

She helped him into his seat before taking the empty one next to him. Even as they got comfortable, her hand never left his arm, finding comfort in his touch after days of agony and helplessness.

“Junia is a healer. The best Dawn has to offer.” Azriel said, the pride clear in his voice. It made sense that she- Junia had been from Dawn. A Peregryn and an Illyrian, two lesser fae known for their warrior skills and inherent desire for the skies. 

“I am not as skilled as Madja, but it's easier to heal when you know exactly what is wrong, exactly what hurts.” Junia said, rolling her eyes at Azriel’s shameless bragging. 

She let out a deep and rich laugh as she looked at everyone’s faces, all pained by the many questions swirling around in there. Feyre noted that she hadn’t heard such a joyous laugh since Azriel had done the same when Elain had gifted him medicine for all the headaches the Inner Circle gave him. 

Clearly, whatever bond they had between them was deep.

“You better introduce me, put them out of their misery.” She teased Az, who had been too caught up relishing her laugh, after a very long and rough berating it was nice to see her not seconds away from tearing out his wings. 

“R-right. Uh- this is my- well this is-” Azriel stammered.

“Mother above Az, don’t hurt yourself," Cassian amused.

Azriel closed his mouth as he blushed, unsure of how to go about this. 

“My name is Junia. As the brooding bat said, I am his Carranam.” Junia answered, side eyeing Azriel.

Keep it together, Az. It's a little pathetic. 

Azriel responded to her teasing look with a glare. We haven’t had to tell anyone about this in a while. Why don’t you try to explain it to these idiots if you are so clever.

Rhysand noticed the silent conversation going on between them.

“You can converse like Daemati? Is that your ability?” The High Lord asked her.

They both hesitated, realizing they didn’t really know how their so-called “telepathy” worked.

“No- or I don’t believe so at least. When you communicate with someone, you are doing so verbally, even if not aloud, correct? I don’t hear Azriel’s voice in my head, I just feel what he is trying to tell me, if that makes sense.”

“Like a mating bond?” Feyre questioned.

“Also no. It's not our feelings that are conveyed solely, we can gather more specific meaning from it. Yes, Junia would feel I was not excited for this conversation, but she would also know I was offering her one last chance to leave, should she also not want to deal with all of your… strong personalities.” Azriel responded, looking at Junia. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his family.

She laughed at his desperation which, while very clear to her, she knew the Inner Circle was none the wiser to the just how far Azriel was willing to go to leave this table. She could see him coming up with escape routes in his head as he picked up his wine glass. 

“Oh you poor delicate flower,” She teased. 

Unfortunately, they all still noticed the blush that once again appeared on Az’s face, laughing at their scary brother, head tortured of the Night Court, being compared to a ‘delicate flower’. 

Downing the rest of his glass, Azriel finally explained.

“A carranam bond isn’t like a mating bond. It comes from an old phrase, A Soul Friend. It gives Junia and I the ability to channel each other's powers, even make them stronger when we are together. Like you noticed, we have a different, more intimate way of communicating, far stronger than Daemati and mates can.”

“How the hell has no one else here heard of this bond?” Nesta asked, skeptical. Seems like something a group of people as obsessed with the mating bond would know about.

“It is rare, extremely so. There are also many… vulnerabilities that come with a bond such as this. To find your carranam is hard enough, most will never be born with one. But to accept such a bond is dangerous. And unfortunately there have been instances of others abusing such a gift. Tying their carranam up to reap their abilities, taking so much from them that both end up going insane. It became illegal in many places and eventually was forgotten by our world.” Junia answered.

“How did you find out what you guys had?” Feyre jumped in.

While this was Junia’s story as much as Azriel’s, she hesitated. Because there was another factor to that story, and she didn’t believe she was the one who should talk about it first.

Another glance between the two, a question asked. Azriel answered it by speaking up, “Junia is from Dawn. After my… mother was released- rescued from my father’s abuse, she wasn’t in wonderful shape. Fortunately, Rhys, Cassian, and myself found a place created by High Lord Thesan’s mother that offered aid to those escaping similar situations, Rosehall. That is where Junia worked as head healer. She helped my mother a lot throughout the years.” Such admiration and gratitude in his voice made several people at the table start to tear up.

Everyone was quiet. While Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor knew the story of Azriel’s mother being sent to Rosehall, they hadn’t known about Junia, just about the healer Az’s mother had gotten along with-

“You are the friend of his mother’s he sends gifts to every Solstice?” Mor asked, having been approached by Azriel for help with buying said gifts many times in the past.

“I thought you picked those gifts out yourself? You didn’t tell me Mor did all the work.” Junia turned to Az.

“I do pick them out, you just have peculiar taste. I have needed her help locating shops to buy such things before. That's it.” Az defended.

I certainly do have peculiar taste she silently said to Az who, again, blushed at the double entendre.

He quickly cleared his throat, “A few years after my mother had entered her care, while I was visiting, there was an attack on Rosehall. It was one of the families of a newer resident enacting revenge for escaping abuse. When many were hurt or dying… or dead, the two of us the only ones available to help, this bond had snapped out because of that desperation. It was new but it felt like it had always been there. We both leaned into the feeling and fortunately it didn’t end terribly. Suddenly, my shadows were able to start healing, and were able to talk to Junia, giving her any info on people who needed her help that she couldn’t see.”

Everyone was astonished at such a story. So different but also so similar to the mating bond. 

“Since then we have been each others’ confidants. While we don’t live particularly close, shadow walking gives me the ability to come to him whenever, and vice versa. Plus the connection is always there, even miles upon miles apart.” Junia answered. 

“Why keep it a secret?” Cassian questioned, knowing how much a connection like this would matter to Az, but confused because wouldn’t he want his family to know about him having such a bond?

“I am not exactly without enemies, Cas. I couldn’t have a possibility of someone coming after her because of me.” The sound of raw pain in his voice let his family know that this wasn’t something that was simply a fear. 

Someone had gone after her in revenge.

“Your secret is safe with us. You are safe with us. Should you need anything, just say the word.” Rhysand offered. 

The two carranam looked at each other. “After I spent a while yelling at Azriel for scaring me half to death multiple times in the past few days. We decided that maybe it was best I… step back from Rosehall.” Junia explained, sadness present in her tone as she talked about leaving the place that had been her sole purpose for her entire life. “I have healers on my staff that deserve the promotion, including Azriel’s mother, who has used her experiences to really become a confidant and friend to so many of our residents.” 

Azriel’s throat bobbed at the mention of just how much his mom had healed and helped since she escaped his father. 

Excitement filled the room at the possibility of adding another to their family. But Junia was still painfully aware of just how many questions everyone had.

“Alright, now that all the nitty gritty is out of the way, you can all begin your interrogation,” she teased.

All at once, tens of questions left everyone’s mouth. Not a single one able to be distinguished over the rest.

Azriel’s hand reached down to hold Junia’s, squeezing her while seeming to say I told you we should have escaped while we could.

They both downed their wine glasses while they waited for the Inner Circle to tire themselves out. 

A/N: Originally, this was the end. But I think I created so much backstory and also fell too much in love with Junia not to add more. So please let me know if you'd like more to this series! (And what you’d like to see)

Taglist: @bunnyred-blog1 @that-one-bibliophole @fuckingsimp4azriel @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minaaminaa8 @lilah-asteria @azrielswhore @maksamillion

(If you are featured here but you didn't get tagged, check your privacy settings to make sure you allow for tags!)

[macaroonff]

The photobooth- Park Sunghoon

Where two strangers, in their desperation and vulnerability, take a picture together. One to create a lasting memory, the other to remove the old one.

Genre: Strangers to lovers (kinda)

Pairing: Non-idol Park Sunghoon x gn!reader

Content warnings: Mentions of a breakup, mentions of enlistment, none imo

Word Count: 1.2k approximately

In his mind, what he would do next was stupid, extremely stupid. Park Sunghoon stood solemnly in front of this hole-in-the-wall photobooth he travelled past on the way to uni. He wasn't sure what exactly led him here- whether it was his desperate need to capture a memory, or whether he was driven by pure insanity. He knew a few things had changed since the last time he stopped by. His hair was shaved short, military style as was required of him. There was an increasing sense of foreboding of the future. His heart had never felt this heavy before. Not even when he almost didn't get into the university of his choice. He was about to enlist- only that it didn't help that he'd be leaving in a week. He felt short on time, as the announcement barely gave him enough to physically or mentally prepare himself. His friends had suggested taking a cool polaroid picture for the sake of memories. For a keepsake for the man he was to become, and as a memory of the boy he would leave behind. His heavy feet therefore brought him here,to a last-minute decision after hours of contemplation. He draws the curtains of the tiny photobooth and hesitantly sits on the bench. Unfortunately for him, and to add to his embarrassment, he fails to notice the other person seated right beside him.

"Excuse me?" you squeak, surprised by the appearance of the man next to you.

Sunghoon is pulled out of his thoughts, and he finally acknowledges your presence. "Oh-" he can barely apologise as the click of the automatic booth interrupts you. He notices that he is captured in the second of the four films. Before he is able to process what happened, another click prints the third film. He jumps out of the booth in a second as you're left bewildered there. The bewilderment enthusiastically captured by the last film. As you look at your ruined pictures, Sunghoon find the need to apologise desperately for interrupting you. He peaks his head back in to the booth, in an attempt at apologising. Instead what he sees are teardrops falling down your cheeks, the films balled up in your fists.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, i really didn't mean to interrupt you," he rambles, "I didn't reali-" before he could finish you push past him, exiting the booth. Before you're able to get up again, you're wrist is tugged on by him.

"Let me pay for you, please. It's my fault, please don't cry" he begs. You're too scared to say a word. It really wasn't that deep for you, or it shouldn't have been. it was just a set of photos that you could take again. Unfortunately for you, you'd put too much meaning into this set of pictures. It was after you saw your ex post a set of pictures with his new girlfriend, in the exact same poses he'd once taken with you did you feel the rage erupting from within. You'd come here to re-write or erase whatever that poor memory was. You'd just have to do it alone. It wasn't this stranger's fault for your outburst. In fact you were happy he disturbed your gloomy little photoshoot.

"I-," you look up to meet the stranger's eyes, his eyes ridden with concern. In that small moment of surprise, you didn't really realise how handsome he was. It led you to an idea, a pathetic and selfish idea, but one that'd make you feel better.

"In that case, can you take another set with me. I don't want to do this alone," you request, your voice small as you begin to fidget with your hands.

"W...Why?" Sunghoon asks taken aback. Were you also scared of taking a picture alone like him? Did you also find it pathetic to take pictures alone in a world where mainly couples come here? Why come here alone if you didn't want to do it alone?

"I want to make my ex jealous," you say bluntly. You don't look at him, afraid of judgement at your request. Instead, you hear a small chuckle.

"Sure, I don't mind," you hear the kind boy say. " I might need the company too right now."

You're curious by what his last statement means,but choose to follow him into the booth quietly. He drops some change into the booth, and then looks at you before he presses the button. You nod and move closer to him, knees grazing gently. The both of you seem awkward but try to smile nonetheless. A click disperses the silence briefly, before he puts his shaking hands on yours. "I'm actually enlisting next week," he announces randomly. You look at him in surprise. "I don't know what to say," you can barely reply, when he brings his arms around your shoulder, just in time before the next picture. "Yeah, this is probably my last picture before I leave," he turns to you, smiling at your surprised face. "Good luck," your eyes soften as you pose for the next one, putting out a "V" awkwardly. He follows you, a somewhat shy smile gracing his lips. "Let's do a silly one" he offers to which you nod enthusiastically. You stick out your tongue, a little shy as he winks at the camera, the set of pictures coming out after the last click. The two of you examine the set of pictures, the two of you looking somewhat confused

"I like it," he says. "You look cute in this one," he hands you the last two pictures. You smile, earnestly. Compared to what you expected, you looked happy. Happy enough for you to forget why you'd come here. You realised neither of you had budged an inch, and you didn't feel like leaving.

"I... thought I'd achieve some sort of petty revenge if I could look happier in these pictures than the ones my ex took with his girlfriend."

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, partly curious, partly in pity. His fingers gently rub against your palm. "In the thirty minutes I know you, I can say with confidence that you're too beautiful for the guy you're worried about. Don't fret it."

His words paint your smile wider as they sink into your soul. "Well, in the thirty minutes that I know you, I think you're so brave and kind that I wish we'd met sooner," you confess.

His smile now mirrors yours as he finally holds out his hand for a handshake. "I'm Sunghoon, by the way," he introduces.

You shake his warm hand, your palms tingling as they meet. "I'm y/n." you reply. After what seemed like an eternity, the both of you finally get out of the cramped booth, the chilly evening wind caressing your face. Sunghoon graciously waits for you to leave first, his eyes following you until your back fades into the city. The encounter felt bittersweet, more sweet than bitter as part of his solemn heart dissipated with the wind. He examines the first polaroid set left with him, where your initials are scribbled hastily at the back. He places it in his pocket, with the realisation that he had a new person, a new memory to bury into his wallet.

[theshadowsingersraven]

I'm just going to explain something real quick because the inability to grasp this is very amusing to me. I want to break down exactly how it is that a character can be toxic in one relationship, but not another.

Let's make some characters. We'll call them Character A, B, C, and D. Character A has trauma surrounding love/feeling like they're worthy of love and struggles with self-image. Character A pined over someone long-term in an unhealthy, one-sided dynamic, likely due to their own unconscious self-sabotage and tendencies to set impossible standards for themselves.

Character A is drawn to Character C, and the feeling is mutual. They might want to pursue a relationship. Character C is in an arranged marriage with Character D, and by all accounts, Character D has done their absolute best to do right by Character C. Even if Character C doesn't seem interested in making the relationship work currently, there's still reason to believe that might change. After all, there's plenty of circumstances that could bring them together and give Character C a chance to see aspects of Character D that they never considered before.

So, given Character A's struggle with believing they're worthy of love, even if they decide to be in a relationship with Character C, and Character C doesn't pursue things with Character D...wouldn't it make sense for Character A to feel at least a little unnerved by Character C's arranged marriage? It's not currently possible to get a divorce, so Character D is still somewhat present. Character D is often away, but Character A and Character D work for the same overall organization, though not in the same branch.

It would be reasonable to suspect or even actively anticipate that this could trigger Character A's trauma and insecurities because of this obstacle unique to Character C's circumstances. Of course, Character A still needs to do the work on their own time to unpack their trauma, but it's probably easier to do without a constant, underlying sense of unease that they could be left for Character D.

It's harder to heal when you're in a dynamic that actively aggravates your specific wounds, even if it's not any specific Character's fault. Character A might doubt their self-worth more, and that could make Character C feel frustrated or suffocated because they might be in a position where they have to spend more time reassuring Character A that they won't leave them for Character D instead of actively being together.

It's even harder when the other characters around Character A and Character C are surrounded by two other couples in arranged marriages that made it work. In fact, the party responsible for arranging these marriages has a pretty solid record of making good arrangements, though there's definitely been some bad reviews and bad experiences. So, there's even more reason for Character A to suspect that Character C will leave them.

Character A doesn't really have particularly good coping mechanisms either. Character A works themselves to death, and might even avoid Character C out of fear of getting attached to something doomed to fail. Character C might be hurt by this. Or, Character A might do the converse and work extra hard to make sure Character C is happy enough not to leave them for Character D. And that's probably exhausting in and of itself, but what about Character C? What if they start to feel suffocated or like they don't have the space they need for their own independence because of Character's A trauma being triggered by their specific circumstances?

It sounds like there's a lot of potential for toxicity between Character A and Character C, but not something necessarily inherent to their specific persons. It's a circumstancial issue.

So, if we look at Character B, who might be a romance interest for Character A, that aggravating factor doesn't exist. There's no threat that triggers Character A. So, Character A isn't unnerved, nor is Character B suffocated or having to reassure Character A that their fears won't come to fruition. Instead, Character A can focus on healing their trauma, and Character B can support them while on their own healing journey, too.

I'm sure plenty of people already understand this to be the case, but for those who didn't before--congratulations! You now understand why Azriel is, in fact, potentially toxic in a relationship with Elain but not with Gwyn.

And that's what you missed on Glee.

[heretherebedork]

In which I am easily amused.

[captainuranium543]

People who say erza "doesn't show any signs of trauma the way other characters do" and is therefore not a complex character, then complain about her social awkwardness, rigid personality, generally hostile outward appearance and tendency to resort to violence as a fix all solution in the same breath make me so genuinely angry.

[blueskittlesart]

wait, the teacher makes every person's crit TAKE 20 minutes to finish? because I initially read it as you move on to the next person once it's been 20 minutes, but that's normal so that can't be what you're complaining about

homegirl set a timer on her phone for 20 minutes and made us talk about one singular piece for the entire 20 minutes. if we ran out of things to say and the timer was still going she would start calling on people and forcing them to nitpick until the timer ran out. literally traumatizing

[igneous-croc]

games having hyper-realistic graphics now... You really expect me to focus on the story or gameplay or whatever when there's TURBIDITES right there?!

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Do you have any Zhongli/Zhongchi fic recs? I haven’t found any that are nearly as good as yours 😔😔

funnily enough someone already asked this, but it was quite a while ago and tumblr is a mess to search old shit thru so here, this is the post this was asked during the ao3 crisis of- .......last year? i can't remember. either way, the post starts w me saying i don't have all the names and links but dw, after ao3 came back up i edited the post so you should see all authors and links in the recs.

i have to admit that for reasons unrelated to the fandom i haven't been reading many zhongchi fics as of late? so like- bear in mind i don't have an updated mental picture of any of the recs after the post was made. so if one went off the rails or if one of the WIPs finished, i'm not aware;; i also mention in the post that i'd add more recs if i had access to ao3 (which i didn't at the time bc it was down), and while that is true, it's been so long since i read any of them that i wouldn't be able to confidently reccomend them outside of 'i somewhat remember the plot and i remember liking it'. also i don't remember half of their names. so uh- yeah that's the list i think

[ruvviks]

having yancey and stevie from my original story the diner thoughts 💭💭💭

from all the characters of the diner i feel like these two are the most like two puzzle pieces instantly clicking together. just in general the story is very focused on starting over far away from the life you used to know and carrying knowledge with you that you'll never speak about for a variety of reasons (and will remain unspoken of throughout the whole story because you'll never know everything there is to know about a person even if you do end up growing very close to them; this is one of the main themes of the story) but especially yancey and stevie understand this like no one else and that's why they work together so well

from the moment they meet and through the first handful of interactions between them it becomes very clear that they're already very comfortable with each other; they skip the small talk, share cigarettes together in their break behind the diner, know that the other went through some heavy shit and they just kind of immediately offer the other their friendship; a judgment-free zone where they can both be their unfiltered and unmasked selves, no need to keep up appearances because they KNOW they both feel like fucking shit and they allow the other to feel like shit with them

but at the same time they know they can't help each other. which is why all their issues remain untalked about until the end of the story; they can't offer the other the comfort they need and deserve because if they'd try, they know they'd start making mistakes. i've thought briefly about letting them have a romantic relationship instead of yancey ending up with rafiq and teddy, but quickly realized it wouldn't add anything else to the story other than the same cycle of mistakes yancey went through with his ex girlfriend which is specifically the situation he's moving away from. so having a redo of all that with stevie wouldn't tell anything new. they'd make each other worse and end up having to get out of there AGAIN, when the whole point of the story is supposed to be that blightwood crossing ends up as their new home because they MADE it into a home

so instead their friendship is both profoundly strong because of the mutual understanding about each other's issues without even having explained anything about it to the other, as well as kind of stuck on becoming closer than they are on account of how they'll never be able to talk about any of it. they won't ever know about each other's past, they'll never learn what the other was like when they were younger, and when either of them needs to talk about something they know they can't go to the other for it because that's just not possible. but what they CAN do is sit with the other and for a while just be miserable in peace, and they know that no matter how bad it gets they WILL always have each other

something something their misery remains forever their own but no matter how ugly it gets the other will still be there at the end of the day

[chirpsythismorning]

u know what? I'm a Willel twin truther now, Mike being in love with El's twin is much better than Mike dating his cousin LMAAO

LMAOOOO a win is a win

[berryblu-soda]

so funny thing, trying to doodle roy and sara looks vaguely like if i was trying to draw show percabeth without a refference lmaoo (before coloring)

[phagodyke]

.

[mental-skillness]

it would explain so much

[tonycries]

A Million Dollar Baby! - N.K.

Synopsis. Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, landlord! Nanami (kinda), oraI (male + fem), cúmplay, reader’s a tease, unprotected, creampíe, down bad FERAL Nanami, spítting, bréeding, messing up his glasses, pantý-stealing, he’s sweet but fúcks so MEAN, mentions of Higuruma, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.8k (wild)

A/N. Decided it was high time I feed my Nanami girlies hehe.

“Just get the money and go.” Nanami deadpans, like a mantra. Giving a rapt knock on your apartment door, “I swear m’making him buy me lunch for this.”

Now, it wasn’t that Nanami was exactly upset about taking over Higuruma’s landlord duties for the day - no, in fact, he was the first one at his friend’s door with a bag of prescription medicine for the other man’s fever and the suggestion to take the day off.

But it was the thought of finally coming face-to-face with you - that mysterious new tenant that’d just moved into his building. The one that had Nanami wondering whether you were really as “sugary sweet n’ irresistible” as Higuruma raved you were. 

Though, he can’t imagine you’d be particularly happy about being woken up at 10am on a Sunday for overdue rent - he certainly wasn’t.

Seriously, he had no idea how Higuruma managed to do this every-

Click!

“Higu- you’re not Higuruma.”

Oh, and suddenly, Nanami gets it.

If he got to see this view, too, then he might just become the landlord himself.

It’s as if you knew you’d be playing with his sanity as soon as you opened that door, dressed in a fitted t-shirt that did absolutely everything to show off every bit of skin he shouldn’t be looking at. Your lips curving into a sinful little smirk when you notice his eyes dancing off that excuse of fabric you call “shorts”.

“Um…” you hum, after a few moments of silence. Leaning against your wooden door frame to give the tall man an appreciative one-over, “Nanami, right? You’re Higuruma’s friend?”

It’s as if the sound of his own name jolts Nanami right back into his senses, clearing his throat as he readjusts his glasses. “Y-yes. Nanami Kento.” And he winces, fuck he’s never stuttered like this. Never, even in the toughest of board meetings. Yet, here he was - making a fool out of himself. 

Knowing he’s completely fucked when your delicious grin only widens, he bows politely, “Apologies for barging in like this, ma’am. But Higuruma’s sick n’ m’here to collect the rent in his place.”

You wave off his formality, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course. I’ve seen you around, always been too nervous to come up and say hello, though.”

And, suddenly, Nanami’s glad you never came up to him to talk out of your own volition, he thinks he’s rather put off embarrassing himself for later. Coughing softly, “I apologize, s’my fault. It was rude of me to not introduce myself first.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” you continue in your smooth tone. Before your eyes catch down his broad shoulders, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clipboard held between his long, long fingers. “Right- the overdue rent. I swear, Higuruma’s always such a sweetheart, he doesn’t bother to remind me.” Opening your door wider to give Nanami a good look inside your cozy apartment - something forbidden. “Come in come in, I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere in here though, maybe you can help me find it.”

Oh? 

And Nanami knows this is dangerous. He knows this is much more than his simple plan earlier of just “get the money and go”. He knows that little glint in your eye certainly does not bode well for him as soon as he steps through that door. 

Yet, he answers anyway, “Of course, lead the way.”

Every bit of small talk in your sultry voice has Nanami gulping, loosening his favorite yellow tie while he follows you inside. Averting his eyes from the curve of your shorts, he takes in the neat state of your apartment. 

That is, until-

“Here we are.” you lead him to a towering pile of clothes piled unceremoniously on your tv room couch. Gesturing airily at the mess, “I’m sure I left my wallet in one of my pants, so you can just sit here until I-”

“I’ll do it.” Nanami’s quick answer stuns the both of you momentarily. But before you can resist, he’s shrugging off his jacket, ignoring the heat of your gaze when he bunches up his sleeves to reveal strong, veined forearms. “It’s only fair, since m’bothering you so early.”

You chuckle, “Oh? What a gentleman, we can do it together then, handsome.”

So here he was - sat on your cramped couch, your thighs flush against his, tackling your laundry. This was definitely a far cry from getting the rent and leaving - but, alas, Nanami can’t find it in himself to complain when he neatly folds up your clothes. 

Whereas you were hastily throwing them god-knows-where, hissing, “Where- is it-” 

“Patience.” he’s humming, placing another t-shirt on your coffee table. “Higuruma’s in no hurry, he can barely get out of bed right now.”

You click your tongue in frustration, “But you, Nanami-”

“-are perfectly fine helping you out.” Nanami cuts in, flashing you a gentle smile. Your eyes widen at the sight of a soft dimple at the corner of it. Which makes him tear his gaze from that pretty pout on your lips to turn back to his dwindling half of the pile, “Besides, it would be a shame if such a nice apartment was messed up by- by-”

Fuck. 

Was that what he thought it was?

His fingers tremble, looking so fucking big wrapped around that those tiny strings of hot pink. Sinful. Obscene. Shit, if he tried he could just rip it to pieces with his bare hands right now - even if you’d been wearing it.

“Hm?” you’re gasping at the sight of the man before you, body stiff, ears a guilty red, gaze hardening at where he was holding onto one of your panties. Oh, shit. You pluck the offending piece of material from his hands, “Oh- whoops. Um- that can’t really be folded.” Throwing a wink at the flustered man - and the lingerie right back at him. “Evidently.”

It was all too much for Nanami, and he’s bringing a hand up to cover his blush - before ripping it off like it burned when he realized it was the same hand he held your panties with. 

Somehow, he manages to choke out, “Maybe- maybe we should try looking somewhere else.”

And it was true - the few messy clothes now leftover (and…Nanami couldn’t forget, your underwear) didn’t show any signs of hiding your wallet. 

“If you say so~” you muse, getting up from your seat - only to get down on your knees. Right in front of Nanami’s manspread legs. 

“Wh-what are you-”

“Under the couch.” you interrupt, enjoying this way too fucking much for the poor man’s sanity as you flash him a cheeky grin. And he smacks himself mentally for letting his imagination be toyed by your teasing whims. “I might’ve dropped it under the couch, so won’t you be a dear and help lift it while I look?”

He couldn’t get up fast enough, almost stumbling over his long legs to crouch down beside you - just anywhere away from this scandalous position. “Ready?” Nanami rasps, biceps bulging tight against his button-up when he easily tilts over your couch. 

“More than.” you take a second longer to admire him before going back to your mission.

Which - whatever’s left of the rational part of Nanami’s brain really thinks might just be to drive him insane instead finding that fucking- what was it- wallet? 

“Hmmm seems it’s not here either, right, Ken?” He doesn’t know what he’s reeling at more - the fact that you used his first fucking name or the way you were arched so teasingly like that. On your knees, spine curving into a delicious little bend that has the crotch of his pants growing just a bit tighter. And- shit he was wrong. So, so wrong. Because those weren’t a sinful pair of shorts like he’d initially thought after all, instead, they were more like underwear. Flimsy and thin, bunching up perfectly at the crease of your hips. 

You were captivating. 

At his heavy silence, you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Oh? Was it the name? Sorry, Nanami, you’ve just helped me so much that it ah- slipped out. I won’t do it again.”

“No.” he grits out, the both of you surprised by the ragged hitch in his answer. Already so disgustingly missing the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. “I’d like it if you called me that- ‘Ken’ that is, if you want.”

“Well then, Ken.” you brush up unnecessarily against his sculpted body as you move to get up and dust yourself down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my wallet’s not down there.”

Shit, he thinks, looking down at the empty spot of carpeted floor for the first time. You little tease, you knew what you were doing. 

Grinning unabashedly as you tug on his arm, “Come on! There’s one more place to look.”

As you pulled him along to the kitchen, Nanami had held out the hope that maybe - just maybe - this would be an actual attempt at finally paying off your overdue rent. Maybe he could walk out of this unscathed and holding onto whatever’s left of his dignity (and lacking the raging boner that was threatening against his slacks right now).

But every feeble hope of that was thrown out the window the moment you instructed him to hold the rickety, certainly unsafe chair propped up in front of your counter steady. 

“I swear I must’ve left it somewhere up there.” you grumble. Not wasting a moment before climbing onto it and rifling on top of your high cabinets. “No harm in trying, right?”

He gulps, palms getting sweaty on the wooden back of the chair with the effort to keep it still. “Are you sure you left it on top of there?”

“Huh? Yes yes, of course.” you answer absentmindedly. Your shirt snagging on your arms as you raise them even higher, “Think you can see something from down there?”

If Nanami could see the top of your shelves, then he didn’t want to find out - not when one glance upwards blessed him with a forbidden glimpse right up your t-shirt. All it took was a flash of skin before he was hit with the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Ken~”

“Fuck!” he breathes, when he looks up involuntarily at the sound of his name. Face burning when you raise a brow, “U-um, m’not sure.” 

Yeah, he sure could see something - hell, he wanted to see more. 

He urgently swipes at the sweat slowly beading at his forehead, immediately regretting his actions when the chair tips ever-so-slightly. “Shit, I apologize, n’ I also apologize for what I’m about to do-” He gasps over your soft yelp, before wrapping two warm hands around the small of your waist. Searing. Soft. Planting you softly on the firm floor like some lil’ ragdoll, “-but I can’t let you put yourself in danger this way.”

Before you know it, you’re back in the safety of the ground. Stood right in front of a determined Nanami as he cranes his head up in your stuffy kitchen, backed up against the counter as he takes over looking for your wallet. 

“Let me, instead.” he grunts. 

But oh even with how genius he thought it was to look instead - even with how he stopped himself from looking at that sinful little slice of heaven - Nanami Kento had another problem. 

A problem that presented itself in the way that your body was pressed flush against his muscled chest, two of your thighs straddling his thick ones. Caged perfectly against him, exactly in the way he shouldn’t have been imagining - but did, anyway. And shit if he angled his body just right he could feel the heat of your core - the way your eager front was drawing in closer. 

“Ah-” he grunts when your soft palm glides lightly across his pecs. Jaw clenching while he tries to blink his hazy eyes back into the glaringly empty top of your cabinets, “My apologies, seems uh- your wallet isn’t- here-” 

Each word is wrenching out of his pretty, worry-bitten lips, a ragged gasp with every accidental brush of the pads of your fingers at the hem of his tight pants. 

“It isn’t there, hm?” you purr, a low honeyed tone that has all the blood in Nanami’s body rushing to his fat cock. “Well what do you suppose we do about that, Ken? Since I can’t pay the rent?”

Nanami doesn’t know whether you’re talking about the rent or that massive tent in his pants he really couldn’t explain away. Instead, he spits, “You knew what you were hah- doing, didn’t you, you lil’ minx? You don’t have your fuckin’ wallet here.”

And the air is so thick, so heady that he can only bring himself to pull away mere millimeters from where he was hovering near your face. 

But even that was too much - and in a split-second, you have your deft fingers wrapped tightly around his speckled tie. “And if I did?” Pulling close enough to ghost your lips against his, “You’re smart, Ken. So m’asking once again, what do you suppose we do about that?”

As if to draw out the answer from him, you’re giving a long, hard drag of your hot cunt along the outline of his swollen cock. You could almost feel every throb and nudge of his veins along the side, and it made you salivate.

“I suppose…” he answers, guttural, like some dark, primal part of himself is peaking its head out with each hot breath fanning your face. A large hand coming up to squish your cheeks into a pretty pout, pursing your lips perfectly for him. “That you hit me if you don’t like this, darling.”

And fuck for all how much of a gentleman Nanami acted - he kissed the exact opposite. All but ruining your lips in such a messy clash of teeth and tongue and him. Devouring you. 

“Fuck- shoulda known.” he’s letting out a humorless laugh, swiping his tongue across your glossy lower lips. “Should’ve known when you invited me in. Such a tease.” Drinking in your breathless moans, sucking on your tongue, “Such a- ngh- horny lil’ thing. This what you wanted all along?”

You hum into the kiss so drunk, “Maybe.” Dancing your hands all across where his toned muscles were fighting against the restraints of his shirt, “But you really can’t blame me.”

And maybe it was true - maybe this was inevitable. Either way, Nanami didn’t know, nor did he really care - not when you were letting out such sweet gasps when he bites down on your bottom lip - just a little punishment. Kissing his way down your heated skin, giving a languid lick at where he suspected that secret sensitive spot on your neck would be. 

“Oh! Ken.” you moan. Bingo. 

He’s unbuttoned his shirt now - or maybe it was you. Fuck, either way you couldn’t tear your eyes off of his pretty washboard abs. Curving and dipping like he was sculpted meticulously. 

And that’s all it takes for your already-dripping cunt to grow impossibly wetter, and he could feel it leaking through those flimsy cotton shorts of yours. Forming a messy sheen right at that damp spot of precum on his pants.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, my love.” Nanami murmurs, swiping a thumb down that sopping wet slit of yours through your shorts. Just marveling at the way that simple touch makes another wave of your sweet sweet juices bead through the fabric. “Hah, absolutely dripping. This all f’me?”

At your half-delirious nod, he flashes you a smile so handsome that it only makes you squirm more impatiently. “How sweet.” Giving your nose a chaste peck, “So good to me. So needy.”

“You’re the same, though.” you accuse, hotly.

And it’s true - Nanami couldn’t deny the aching need of his cock, the way he all but moans in response, “Then tell me- hngh tell me what you want. I’ll give you- anything-” Managing to get out through hot, sloppy kisses planted right on your wobbly lips, “-anything.”

But, ah, you always did manage to surprise him. And instead of an answer, you’re getting right down on your knees in front of him like you did not too long ago - though, this time, you’re reaching up to fumble with his belt. 

“Wan’ taste you.” you huff when his expensive notches prove too stubborn. “Wan’ feel you in my mouth so bad, Ken.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles darkly, easily loosening his belt and his pants along with it. Rock-hard cock sensitive and just smearing a pool of precum where his fat head springs up to hit your lips. Such a pretty shade of gloss. Nanami laces his hand on your scalp to guide you forwards, slowly, “Then take it. Take it f’me, pretty.”

He was so pretty that you possibly couldn’t not - a delicate blushing red at his very tip, glistening and absolutely soaked in precum down the long path to his creamy base, his heavy balls. So girthy that it made your cunt clench in anticipation.

And then there’s no more talking. Hell, you barely get enough time to admire Nanami’s massive cock before he’s bullying it between your lips. Wetting his thick, angry tip with your saliva, just enough to eye down at the way your lips bulge so prettily around him. 

“Gonna hafta open w-wider if you wanna take me, pretty. Open hah- yeah jus’ like that.” He’s reeling your head back, all the way till you were just kissing at his thick, angry tip. “Now spit on it, my love.”

Despite being the one to say it, Nanami’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief when you’re readily decorating his swollen length with a steady stream of spit. Your soft palms smearing the saliva along his length. 

You’re slurring, “After all, I still haven’t found my wallet, right?”

And oh he doesn’t even have to ask for what comes next - doesn’t even have to make a noise. 

Immediately, you take him in inch by fucking inch. The deliciously salty twang taking over your senses, and he’s so hot and heavy over your tongue. Veins pulsing in a dizzyingly throb! throb! throb! against the roof of your mouth.

“Are you- are you sure you can-” You shut up his doubts by rubbing your hot tongue along every sensitive ridge you could reach. Bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless little pace to milk his pretty cock for all he’s worth. 

Nanami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Was this what heaven felt like? 

“F-fuuuck, oh you-” his words are catching in his throat with each flick of the tip of your tongue against his sensitive slit. Just the way he liked it. “-ngh guess that sharp mouth of yours wasn’t just hah- good for teasing, huh?”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute - the complete opposite of the reserved man that’d come knocking on your door. Hips grinding up into your warm tongue mindlessly, slow. Languid - like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Oh you feel so heavenly- so fuckin’ good it should be illegal.”

You can’t help but bat your teary eyes up at him in response, blinking away the lustful haze to drink in that utterly obscene sight above you. Nanami’s neat, blond hair uncharacteristically disheveled, stray strands sticking to his furrowed brow. Only deepening with each wrecked sigh that leaves his plump lips every time his abs flex with the movement of his fat head hitting the gummy back of your throat. 

He looks so pretty it makes you moan. 

Those electric vibrations going all the way down that wet divot on the tip of Nanami’s painfully hard cock to his heavy balls. 

“Oh shit- shit shit shit feels too good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you gag around him. “Don’t do that don’t-” This only makes you drag your sloppy mouth down him deeper, syrupy moans sticking to

him all the while. 

“Fuck!” Nanami shudders. And he’s pulling you down - hard - barely letting you get a feverish little breath out until your nose is hitting the neat patch of blond at his base. Rubbing up against his toned pelvis. 

Still moving in deep, relentless thrusts inside your gummy cavern. “S’real fuckin’ hard to treat you as nice as I want when you act like that, my love.”

And, of course, the only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles as you take him in faster. Cheeks hollowing to massaging his every sweet spot. Your jaw grinding against his twitching balls with each smack of his hypnotized hips against your mouth, fucking into you the way he wished he could do with your cunt. Frenzied. Sloppy. 

Yeah, this was heaven alright - but you were the fuckin’ devil. 

Of course, you wanted him to treat you like such a slut - so he does. 

Just dragging your stubborn mouth off of his twitching cock, Nanami only reaches down to place an accomplished peck on the pout of your mouth before hoisting you onto the counter. “What? You think I’d really ngh- cum before my darling girl?”

He’s groaning into your mouth, licking at the seam of your candied lips as two strong arms of his spread your legs so far apart it burned. “F-fuck, Ken-”

“Aw look. You’ve got another slutty pair, huh?” he gestures down at the drenched scrap of fabric you so proudly called “panties.” Sliding a thumb underneath to glide it underneath your puffy pussy lips. He’s echoing your sentiment from before, “Said you can’t find your hah- wallet, right?” Well, ya better start makin’ up for that now.”

In all of two seconds, Nanami’s hooking two fingers over your underwear - pulling - ripping. He was right -  Nanami takes a moment to admire your dripping cunt, glistening and needy for him - he could rip those panties right off of you. 

With just one hand pinning you to the cool marble of your counter, the other thumbing open your puffy folds, he’s giving all of your pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Mmm fuck-” he spits into your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Letting it form a saturated little pool of your juices, before surging back nose-deep with a pained grunt. Again. And again. And again and again- “Jus’ as sweet- as sugary sweet ngh-”

Nanami didn’t think Higuruma knew about this little treasure trove when describing you - though, if he did, then he was well and fully intent on tongue-fucking every little thought out of him right now. 

“Hngh! Shit-” you’re keening when his greedy tongue laps up every bit of your syrupy sweet slick. Alternating - methodically, indecisively - between rolling over your throbbing clit and just dipping into your awaiting entrance. “It feels so- so good, Ken.”

“Yeah that’s right.” he gasps, wrapping those pretty pink lips of his to suck on your clit. Harsh. “Say my name- no, louder. Louder.” 

It’s all you can do to not just scream out his name without your neighbors filing a noise complaint. Dragging your sopping pussy all over his mouth - glistening and obscene right down the bottom half of his face all the way up to smear against his clear glasses. 

Such obscene squelches ring through your kitchen as Nanami keeps making out so messily with your sensitive nub. Ringing in your fucked-out brain, so obscene, so addictive that you barely even register the thick fingers dipping their way around your hole. 

You jolt when the cool metal of his glasses kiss your skin, “O-oh Ken what-” 

“Shhh shhh, darling.” he soothes. The tip of his manicured index circling around your elastic muscle. Hypnotic. “M’gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good-” With this, he’s bullying his fingers inside, “-care of you.”

Tears crinkle at the corners of your eyes at the sheer stimulation. Because for how sweet Nanami was talking you through this, he was absolutely ruthless on your cunt. Not half the man he was this morning - animalistic. Feral, even.

His sharp jaw grinding against your skin, fingers almost a blur with how depraved they were pumping in and out of you. Massaging every hidden corner of your plushy walls, yet you get the feeling that they were calculated. Nanami’s darkened eyes drinking in every whimper and twitch of your body over the glasses inching dangerously downwards. Searching, waiting for that one-

“Ngh!” You worry you’d have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for Nanami holding you down. Body jolting at sudden electricity running through your veins, “Oh- fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god Ken, there. Right there–”

But before the sentence has even left your heavy lips, he’s hitting your g-spot once more. Easily finding the bullseye that has you bucking and arching into his mouth like such a slut. 

And this time - Nanami lets you use his mouth all you want. The fingers splayed out to pin you down moves to toy with your puffy clit. Rolling between his fingers while he hisses out syrupy sweet praises, “Shit, never liked m’name that much- ngh- but it sounds so pretty on your lips. So sweet. So- oh-” 

The sight of your cunt just beading with need has him kissing it once more. All over your sensitive nub, your ravaged hole, hell, even down to the mess of slick dripping down at your thighs. Faster. Sloppier. No rhythm or rhyme anymore. 

“M’so close.” you whine, weaving your fingers through his blond hair to help ride his face easier. Jolting with each purposeful flick of his tongue. “Gonna cum, Ken.”

“Cum then.” he answers, simply, grinning a guiltily glossy grin, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, right?”

And then you do - stars behind your eyes and that little nickname you’d made Nanami in your mouth. Over and over while he tonguefucks you through your high. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” you whine, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks eat time he swiped at your sensitive spots, dragging it out longer. Until your soft whimpers were drowning out the squelches from below. Until you were blinking your spotty vision back. Until you were squirming your hips higher up the counter to pull away from Nanami’s unforgiving tactics. “M’too sensitive- Nana-”

He tuts, interrupting your orgasm-drunk babbles, “Tha’s not what you call me.” Pulling away just enough to hum, “All I did was eat this pretty cunt out, darling n’ you already forgot my name?”

You shiver - both at his mean little tone and the absolutely sinful sight between your shaky thighs. Nanami’s lips plump and irritated, eyes foggy - glasses even more so with all the sloppy dredges of spit and your slick.

Shit, you think he’s never looked prettier. 

“Is that so?”

It’s all you hear before you’re hit with his glasses being gently placed onto your nose bridge - followed shortly by the realization that oh, you said that out loud. But Nanami basks in your sudden shyness, giving your lips a chaste, lingering peck. “You dirtied my glasses, y’know. Now you have to make up for that on top of the rent.”

And by the feeling of his thick tip kissing at your pussy lips, you had a very good idea about how you’d be making up for it. Making a mess. Sliding the curve of his head up and down. Up and down up and down up and-

“B-but don’t forget.” you manage to grit out by the time he’s nudging his divot against your clit. “You have to make- hah- make up for-” 

In a fluid motion, you’re reaching your fingers to dig into the irresistible tan skin at his hips, all hard muscle and the thick fabric of where he’d pulled his pants down just enough. You press down on his bulging back pocket, smirk growing at the familiar flash of hot pink you could spy, “-my panties.”

The moment the obscene little accusation leaves your lips, you give a soft tug forwards. Nanami’s towering body being pulled easily to push his weeping tip past your puffy folds. 

“F-fuck.” he’s throwing his head back at the feeling. “You hngh- saw, huh?”

Oh, if he hadn’t been imagining this the moment he’d stepped inside your apartment then Nanami thinks he might’ve just passed out right then and there. 

Because you were so warm, so addictive wrapped around his cock - even when he’s barely even in. That he just has to keep going - after all, it’s for the rent, right?

It’s what he likes to think.

It’s what he whispers - over and over into your open mouth as he bullies his thick cock past your gummy entrance. Letting your plush walls suck the ever-loving soul out of him with each lazy, lingering grind just to fit himself inside. 

“O-oh! Shit-” your nails leave jagged red marks down Nanami’s broad shoulders when he stuffs you full. Desperate. “Y-you’re so big, Ken–” 

At this, you feel Nanami’s girth grow even wider, stretching your walls until it felt like he was molding your poor pussy to the shape. Just reaching into your lungs. You squeal, “Wait- you got bigger- what-”

“I know I know, You got it, my love.” he’s soothing your cries with sugary kisses at the corners of your mouth. Drawing slow, methodical circles on your clit in time with his experimental thrusts. “You got it. You can take it. Shhh shh-” He’s drinking in your cute mewls, cupping your pretty face with his free hand, “You’ll take it right? All of it, like my good girl? You’ve gotta make up for it, right?” At your delirious nod, “Words, pretty.”

“Yes, please.” You buck your hips in a sultry tandem matching his, the cool frame of his glasses still kissing at your skin. “M’gonna take it all like your good girl, Ken.”

Shit, he can feel himself growing even bigger just halfway into you, “Then-” Angling your teary face down to watch the mess down below. The way your greedy cunt was trying to milk each and every inch of him like it was delicious. “-look.”

You can’t tear your eyes away as he delves into you so filthy. 

Not waiting for your pathetic whines about him being “too big” - no, Nanami’s only pulling you back from escaping like some sextoy - his favorite one. Still toying sweetly with your clit while he pushes against that feeble ring of resistance. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

“Ken!” you’re yelping out when he finally bottoms out. Your swollen folds meeting his drenched hilt, blond tufts of hair brushing up against your pelvis. Sighing, ”Finally.”

“Finally?” he’s dragging out his words with an already-crooked, pussydrunk grin. Eyes wild - bewildered almost at how well you were taking him. “S-seriously? Did you say ngh- ‘finally’, my girl?” Each word has him tapping more strength behind those thrusts, faster. Harder. Spitting out so contendly, “Finally- hah. Such a slut f’me, hm?”

He’s plunging into you like such an animal right now, so harsh that it was almost difficult to pull back. To dare subject himself to not be buried inside your dripping cunt for even a split-second. 

In response, you lick a long stripe up the sensitive area of his neck, splaying out a hand to squeeze Nanami’s pec - and the rapid heartbeat you felt beneath it. “You’re not- ngh- any better.”

“I know.” Nanami leers, unabashedly kneading at your sore tits now. Fucking you harder and harder into the counter. Connecting his sweaty forehead with yours to look you right in the eyes as he gruffs, “I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty cunt as soon as you opened that door, y’know.”

You feel his cock twitch wildly at the confession, dragging against your gummy walls with his tip. Hitting - oh-so-expertly - that one sensitive honeypot of nerves. Which makes Nanami’s mouth fall slack with what a treasure you were. 

“Y-you’re such a-” you’re moans are syrupy and slurring together now. Holding onto the larger man for dear life, “such a pervert, Ken.”

Shit, you were squeezing around him so hard that it was almost impossible to pull out. Abs straining to keep up the loud staccato of skin-against-skin, and Nanami’s long, jagged rams inside your wet heaven.

Nanami’s nosing down your pulse, letting his hot tongue loll out to catch the salty drops of your tears, “Mhm, only for hngh- you. Because you’re my girl now, aren’t ya?”

So easy for him to trawl out those addictive moans with each drag of the upwards curve of his fat cock. Thick tip hitting your g-spot, your cervix - as if he was branding his name into your pretty pussy from the inside. Sloppy. 

Leaving a bruising little Kento. With his erratic fingers pinching and rolling your clit at the same feverish tempo of his cock bullying inside your cunt - Kento. With his heavy balls smacking against your ass, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to his sensitive slit, rubbing up against your succubus walls - Kento. With the way your heels were now digging into those dimples at the bottom of his spine, sure to leave marks with the way you were pulling him impossibly closer. So needy - Kento.

Only getting sloppier. The only thing in your mind right now - Kento Kento Kento-

So, really, it makes sense when that’s the only thing you’re capable of getting out once you cum. It sneaks up on you at first, and then all at once - and before you know it, you’re cumming so desperately all over Nanami’s relentless cock. 

Over and over.

Your thighs spasming, such a slutty ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth with each wave of pleasure he’s forcing out of you by targeting your ravaged g-spot. Only a few more of those sloppy, mean thrusts left in the man himself before Nanami’s spilling into your greedy cunt. 

Painting your gummy walls white with each painful squeeze of his balls, he’s still thrusting - as if on instinct. Shoving his seed deeper and deeper down your cum-filled hole until he’s sure it’s overfilled. 

By god were you a vision, he’s thinking deliriously. Tears pooling at your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, throat to shoot to do anything but whimper when he keeps going in and out in and out in and-

And if he angled his head just right, he could see the hot globs of cum that take to trickling out from your puffy folds, pooling at a mouthwateringly creamy base around his hilt.

“Ah,” Nanami wastes no time squeezing his index into your already-bulging entrance, pumping the cum slobbering out back in. “Better- hah- better not waste any-” He could barely speak right now, cumming harder than he has in his whole life - in fact, his overworked cock was still shooting out wispy spurts of his seed. Like he couldn’t stop. “-after all, y’haven’t made up for all the overdue rent yet, my love.”

A/N. Concept inspired by this NSFW audio by IchigekiVA that my friend sent me <3

Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[granma-sweetie]

genuinely there is no other word to describe how i feel than befuddled.