#kldr reblogs heheee

[kendricklamardrider]

didnt knowbhevwas choll lie that

im over here meetin the iris rn i’m talkin to tha iris i’m chill asf. tranquilizing my shit, im tranquil as fuck man im one with the iris man.

[kendricklamardrider]

this reminds me of that "he cried i crew too we both crode" tweet anyways i love it sobbing my eyes out he deserves only the best

we NEED "i'm just too soft for all of it." IWHT MEGUMI PLS IM BEGGING

I'M JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF IT (m. fushiguro)

a/n: me making up medical shit LMFAO, repressed and emotionally constipated megumi, deadbeat dad t*ji, slight mentions and undertones of toxic masculinity

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Since he was four years old and still growing into his long-sleeved sweaters, Megumi has learned to heal his own wounds or almost die trying.

A routine that he now knows like the back of his hand, he'd returned from his latest mission with weeping cuts and exhaustion clear beneath his eyes, making a point to stop at the medical closet before returning to his dorm. With Shoko's workday over, he makes a mental note to visit her first thing in the morning when he wakes. 

He can make it through the night, he always does. Because Megumi is a thinker. He plans until he can't and covers all bases for when they're stolen. He gets by. 

What he didn't take into account was potentially running into you, of all people. Dormitory halls barren and almost eerie, he nearly curses himself for brushing shoulders as you turn the corner on the way back to your own room. 

Your timing has always been wrong, or maybe it's right and Megumi can't differentiate between the two. 

And now he's here, on the creaky wooden floor of the medicinal closet, with you kneeling beside him and prodding at his injuries with tender wrists. 

Never one to be good with idle hands, Megumi fidgets and tries to brush at the dried blood on his shoulder. The action has both of you hissing—him in a jolt of pain and you in reaction to his hurt. 

"Don't touch it," your voice falters to be stern, still coming out so gently. Megumi thinks about the irony of that—of how you can't even be sharp if you tried. You're too gentle, too soft to even sound hard momentarily. 

Humiliated at the mere idea of doing nothing, at needing help, he shakily exhales and returns his attention to the floor. 

When the damp cotton pad in your hand touches a bit too deep in one of his cuts, Megumi does his best to save face but can't help the grunt of breath that gets sucked into his lungs. 

Immediately, he feels you retract from his skin and coo your apologies. Carefully returning your attention to the burning wound, you do your best to soothe him. 

"Sorry, it's deeper than it looks. Almost over."

Megumi's response is quick and curt, like a cut of its own, "It's fine."

You nod hesitantly before grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and another clean cotton round. The cleaning of his wounds continues in silence, though your thoughts are louder than anything. 

His injuries vary in size. Some deeper, fresher, than others. Some looking like one-hit victims and others a repeated attack. You do your best to take note of where he's sensitive, where he's hurting the most. 

When you reach a certain scratch on his bicep, you're able to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat beading on his forehead and damp hair sticking to his skin, Megumi bites the collar of his uniform to suppress any kind of noise (weakness) from you. 

When he slips up and lets out a guttural muffled groan, you think you might audibly whimper yourself. 

"You can yell if you want to," you try to help him in any way you can, "or squeeze my hand or—"

"I'm fine," Megumi attempts to bark again, but this time is different. It's not cold or sharp like it was last time. You can hear how it shakes against the echos of the closet, how it sounds like the burn of tears building in a sore throat.

And between the pain everywhere he still has feeling and the intimacy of you carefully caressing him, Megumi finds himself tearing up. 

"Hey," he feels you whisper, attempting to caress his jaw and prompt him to look at you, "hey, you okay?"

He can't find it in himself to answer nor lift his head, so he sniffles like a kicked child and crinkles his nose in disgust at his own pathetic actions.

Megumi is tough, one of the toughest people you know. You've seen him more beat up than this and barely break a sweat. Your head feels light at the realization that something's wrong. He shouldn't be in this much pain from the familiar burning of antiseptic he's felt a dozen times over. Maybe it's from a cursed weapon, or a technique where—

A stifled sob cuts you off.  

Like a glass cracking beneath pressure, you feel something inside you break. No longer caring about cleaning his cuts or avoiding sensitive areas, you can't stop yourself from wrapping around his hunched frame. 

Megumi's breath hitches as you hold him, feels your hair tickling his neck when you rub his back and whisper.

"I'm sorry, I know, but you're doing so good, okay? And I'm almost done—"

"Don't do that," he bites. 

Assuming he's referring to prodding at a specific wound, you flinch and loosen your grip, "Do what?"

"Talk to me like that," he snarls with a crack, "in that—voice."

He feels your head remove its weight from his shoulder slowly, "Why?"

"Because I can't—" Megumi's voice almost breaks before he whines, gritting his teeth when he whimpers, "I can't handle it."

And just like that, Megumi is four years old again. He's scraping his knee on the concrete of his front lawn, and a blurry father-shaped figure with dark hair and legs far too tall tells him to be a man. Not being old enough to use the stove without supervision, but still knowing enough to save his cries for his pillow when Tsumiki is snoring and can't overthink his tears. He thinks of Gojo—of the first time he broke down in front of him and was met with whispers of good intent and love that registered in his brain as pity. Humiliation.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your fingertips on his wet cheeks, replacing the stinging of antiseptic with a fluttering and velvety touch. 

Between sniffled strings of apologies and a few hiccups of words that don't quite make sense, you piece together that Megumi isn't crying because he's in pain. He's crying because he can, because you're helping him in a way he never asked for, let alone known. 

"I've never...been allowed to, like, feel—"

"Hey," you're soft again, as if you ever weren't. "I know," fingers delicately brush his sticky eyelashes when you remind him, "but you are now."

"Are what?"

"Allowed," you whisper against his cheek, "to feel however you want when you're around me."

And Megumi doesn't know how you do it. How you remain a light in a world that's constantly doing all it can to kick you while you're down. Maybe you're just naive, so stupidly optimistic that it'll eventually be your own demise. Maybe.

But, Megumi can't find himself to care, because he knows that for as long as he's on this earth, he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to that light of yours. 

Back to reality and rubbing at his stinging eyes, Megumi softly scoffs. "Y'know, sometimes you look at me with those stupid eyes and I don't know what happens, but I almost feel sick."

Your laughter tastes like water, "I know what you mean. But in a good way though, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, "in a good way."

When Megumi's back finally hits his mattress at an ungodly hour of the morning—something he's been dreaming of since he'd left it hours ago—he's sickeningly sore and his eyes burn with hypersensitivity. He lets himself close his eyes thinking of your hands, the ones that soaked his now scabbing wounds and wiped his watery eyes. 

Megumi plans, sure, but he never could have prepared for you. 

[kendricklamardrider]

megumi my love (sobs)

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒢𝒪𝒪𝒟 𝑀𝒪𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢, 𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒩𝐸 — waking up beside them

info ⭑ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi ﾉ fluff :3

✰ GOJO rises with the sun which means that he’s almost always up before you. as the birds chirp outside the window and the heater kicks on with its constant hum, satoru takes the seldom moment of peace to watch your sleeping figure. you’ve wiggled your way out of his arms, only partly in his hold, lying so that you’re partially facing him on your side but in the process of rolling over onto your back. he’s tempted to close the gap, pull you close and hug you against his chest but you look too comfortable to rouse. the warm, bright rays of sunlight peek through the curtains and cast an angelic glow on half of your face. he can’t help it when his hand reaches out, lithe fingers tracing the lines of your jaw, from just beneath your ear all the way down to your chin. your eyelashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks as you begin to stir, smiling upon meeting satoru’s familiar cerulean irises. hand moving up to caress your cheek, he jokes about how lucky you are to wake up to such a handsome face every morning but behind his jesting words and signature smirk, he knows it’s the other way around. he’s the one who hit the jackpot.

✰ GETO often finds it difficult to sleep through the entire night which means he’s up while you’re still resting. he doesn’t like the thought of disturbing you so, instead of feeling around for his phone or sneaking off to the kitchen, he stays put beside you in bed. your back is facing him, unobstructed by the fabric of a shirt. he reaches out to touch you faintly, just barely making contact with your soft skin. his middle finger hovers, following the curve of your spine from your neck all the way down to the dip of your lower back. for as long as you’re still sleeping, suguru occupies himself by languidly outlining pretty patterns across your back. you wake to his feathery touch, stretching out your arms and legs before rolling over to face him. suguru greets you with a smile, his face framed by thick pieces of hair that escaped his loose bun sometime last night. you tell him good morning through a yawn as you stroke the rogue strands of hair. the both of you spend the rest of your time in bed planning the day ahead while your fingers detangle the ends of his inky hair and his fingers continue to aimlessly draw lines across the blank canvas of your back.

✰ YUUJI is a clingy sleeper; there’s never a morning when you don’t wake up to him wrapped around you like a koala bear, serving as a second blanket. you wouldn’t be able to move even if you tried, but you don’t attempt to leave his arms for a while after you wake. you cherish the warmth he envelops you in. it’s comfortable enough that you can feel yourself slipping back into a restful slumber, but you fight the urge to fall back asleep. the moment you shift as though you plan on getting up from bed, yuuji’s arms tighten around your midsection and he lets out a sleepy groan in protest. stay a little longer, he pleads, the warmth of his breath sending a chill down your spine and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. it’s impossible to say no to him on most occasions but it’s especially difficult with that morning voice of his. so you stay put and let him snuggle into you. you can feel the smile tugging at his lips as he presses light, soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. his affection is distracting and by the time you get a glimpse of the clock, it’s long past the time you had planned on getting up.

✰ MEGUMI sleeps peacefully, as though he isn’t plagued by a problem in the world. it’s one of the few moments you can be certain he’s free from the stress that seems to follow him during the day. because he looks so tranquil, you can’t help but take a few minutes to look at him after you wake up; his pink parted lips and the long, thick lashes that brush the tops of cheeks. dark strands of hair fall over his face and you almost reach out to push them back when his gravelly voice cuts through the serene air. are you going to stare at me all morning? he asks, eyes still shut, words jumbled since his cheek is pressed up against his arm. you smile, telling him that maybe you just might. his eyes are open by now and the sleepy blue orbs meet yours. despite his words, he doesn’t mind your lingering gaze. megumi finds comfort in being the subject of your stare; not for some selfish reason like being the only person you look at in such a way, but because he can feel every ounce of love behind your eyes. and so, without any objection, he lets you comb his unruly hair back with your fingers, never once taking his eyes off of you or the warm smile you wear while doing so.

hai, it's your friendly neighborhood sua! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[kendricklamardrider]

THIS IS SO CYUUUUTEEEEEE AWWWMANNNN

I want to kiss you / キスしたい

G. Satoru

NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.

WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok

Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.

Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.

"Hi."

"Hi."

And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.

You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.

Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.

He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.

So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.

Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;

暑い。

It's hot.

There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.

Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.

Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.

One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.

キスしたい。

I want to kiss you.

He looks at you expectantly.

You type back to him.

Then kiss me.

それからキスして。

He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.

Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.

The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.

Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.

Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.

"It was your eyes for me." You said.

"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.

"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.

"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"

"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.

"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering to barrier and all."

"Ooh, did you?"

"How is this surprising? We're married??"

"Oh yeah."

[kendricklamardrider]

this is so goofy i love it

The Misadventures of Tiny Sukuna.

Character/s: Plushie! Ryomen Sukuna, Human Reader

Warnings: None just something stupid. Idk sukuna gets a bit pissy I guess.

A/n: This is based around the idea of my mine sukuna plush I bought the other day. I'm thinking of making multiple parts but idk, I think they'll go on Ko-fi if there's more parts to this madness.

Masterlist

Ko-fi

----------------------

He is so cute.

You saw him in a shop and just HAD to get him.

Without much thought, you snatch up the mini King of Curses plush before other people can even try. That kid was eyeing him up, you didn't appreciate that

After purchasing the little plush you notice something strange. It blinked.

Or at least you thought it did.

It's smile changed to a grin as it suddenly seemed a whole lot less plush and a whole lot more real. Well, as real as the messed up proportions of a now ex-plushie can be.

Nothing is said as you rush home, but the tiny Sukuna smiles up at you menacingly.

Placing him on the kitchen counter flat on his back to make sure it's not a hallucination that's lasted longer than it should have. You seriously need to fix that sleep schedule if this is the kind of stuff you see.

He gets up and glares at you, your jaw dropping as you watch his small nubs of hands push him up.

"How are you alive?" You look around the room almost expecting another item to come to life but nothing does and he just stares up at me.

"I am not sure. I'm not too happy about it though. This size is not... Favorable."

"You're so cute and tiny."

"Die."

"Guess you're stuck with me."

"I cannot wait for the day I can kill you."

Isn't he just a sweetheart...

He begins to waddle over the counter observing the large world around him. Clearly not observant enough though.

He let's out a yell as he falls into the sink. He just stays there stunned for a moment before glaring at me, "Pick me up!"

"Why should I?" you smirk at him, "you told me to die and that you want to kill me, so please tell me why I should bother. Asshat."

He looks offended but doesn't reprimand you, "fine, you can be my servant and I won't kill you once I find a way out of this form. How does that sound?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, "better than nothing."

You both know who holds the real power here anyway. Or at least you do, Sukuna is still in shock from the fall I think.

-------------------

I told u it was dumb, but it's also a fun idea. I love just posting sill things like this.

[kendricklamardrider]

LOOK AT GANYMEDE AWWW THIS IS SO CUTEEE

more ow

[kendricklamardrider]

crying hes really just a small guy in a big world

Yuuji cooking for you

Just a little something I had to write after seeing the new episode! Coming home to Yuuji, who is cooking for you and being happy and safe, is such a dream to me!!

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (gender-neutral) Genre: fluff Word Count: 500 Warnings: None, just fluff and kissing. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

The delicious smell of a homemade meal wafts through the apartment when you get home. You smile as you kick off your shoes and quickly walk over to the kitchen, already knowing what sight will greet you.

And, of course, you are right. Yuuji is standing at the stove with his broad back to you, stirring a large pot. The sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up to reveal his muscular tan forearms. The red apron you got him for his birthday two years ago is fastened with a sloppy bow at the back of his neck, right beneath his undercut.

You walk up behind your boyfriend and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly from behind, nuzzling your face against his muscular back, breathing in deeply to inhale the scent of home: The traces of laundry detergent on Yuuji's hoodie, his cologne, his cherry blossom hairspray, the smell of his homemade food clinging to his clothes. That warm scent that smells like love incarnate to you.

You can hear the smile in your voice when you ask,

"What are you cooking, baby?"

Yuuji chuckles, turning his head to smile at you, giving you a chance to get on your tip toes and press a quick but gentle kiss to his smiling lips.

Warm golden eyes sparkle happily at you when your boyfriend answers,

"I saw something super yummy on the Food Channel earlier today and wanted to try it. It'll be ready in a few minutes."

"It smells delicious! I can't wait to try it!"

Yuuji laughs, and his left hand comes to rest atop yours, where you caress his abs through his hoodie. He gives it a gentle squeeze before he interlaces his fingers with yours while his other hand keeps stirring the pot.

You sigh happily as you snuggle against him. You love those sweet domestic moments with Yuuji. Coming home to him, hugging him while he is cooking, and afterward eating together.

Sometimes right there in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and opening your mouth to let Yuuji feed you spoonfuls of the delicious meal he prepared. Sometimes at the dinner table, while the two of you talk about your day and the plans for the rest of the week. Sometimes on the couch while leaning on each other and watching a movie in comfortable silence.

"Can I help with something, Yuu?"

He shakes his head and puts the wooden spoon on the kitchen counter,

"Nah, it's done. It just has to simmer for a few more minutes."

You smile at him when Yuuji gently wiggles out of your hug so he can turn around to look at you. There's a big boyish grin on his handsome face and a mischievous sparkle in those golden eyes when he adds,

"But on the other hand, there is something you can do, cutie."

He points at the embroidered 'Kiss the Cook' logo on the front of his apron while the corners of his lips twitch. A moment later, he breaks out in laughter. And you join him, laughing as you lunge at him, and throw your arms around him at the same moment his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him.

Your eyes close when your mouth brushes against Yuuji's, and you capture his lips in a tender kiss, kissing that cute, loud laughter off his lips.

He makes me so happy!! I hope reading this gave you comfort too! Comments and reblogs would be sweet.

[kendricklamardrider]

HOORAYYYYY

Not in A Fight - Oneshot

In which you tell Genji you can take him, but not in a fight. It awakens his inner playboy, and he immediately wants to see if you really can.

tags: smut and fluff, praise, afab gender neutral reader, unprotected sex, cocky! genji, genji is a tease

a/n: once again, i'm saying that i am not the most well-versed in writing spice, so please go easy on me. this is also not meant to be accurate to the lore. i hope you enjoy <3

You have a habit of letting your eyes wander when you’re sharing a training room with Genji. He’s hard to resist at any moment, but when he’s training, he’s captivating. From the way his movements are calculated and graceful, to how droplets of sweat drip off his hair. It’s mesmerizing, to say the least. It’s that indulgent habit that you are doing now, your eyes scanning over him. He’s sparring with his sword, training against some recruit you can’t remember the name of. A skin-tight black shirt is gripping his body, and you can almost see how his lean muscles move and flex. 

The recruit dashes at him, and Genji deflects the attack with ease. The recruit sighs, clearly exhausted at a match-up that is far from fair. You feel for them, you really do. Genji is one of the best, and having a recruit train with him is hardly fair. Though, it is throwing them in head-first. Your training days were a little different, having your main focus being on medicine and not combat, but you still had fighting experience. Though, your training wasn’t with Genji. Despite not training with him at first, the two of you still reached out to each other. You became good friends with ease, and even sparred with him a few times. Though, it wasn’t serious sparring, and was more like both of you were messing around. Time spent with Genji was so easy, so safe, so calm. It’s no wonder you started to develop feelings for him. You tried to crush those feelings quickly, but it was pointless. Genji Shimada seems to have dug his way into your heart. 

“Good work. Go get some rest,” Genji’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. The recruit nods, before grabbing a bottle of water off of a bench and quickly leaving the training room. That leaves you and Genji alone. He walks to you, reaching behind you and grabbing a towel off the rack. Your breath catches in your chest when his arm just barely grazes your skin. He rubs the towel against his forehead, then lays it across his shoulders. 

“Wanna spar?” He asks. A cloth mask is covering his face, but you can sense the smile on his features. 

“Not today,” you say softly. You can hardly focus now, you would be a fumbling mess trying to spar with him. One of his eyebrows quirks up as he looks at you. His rich brown eyes always seem to see right through you, and it’s frustrating to say the least. 

“You scared?” You hear the joke in his tone, and you snort out a laugh. 

“You don’t scare me, Genji,” you say. Your voice trails off, then you have to hide a smirk as you say the rest. “I could take you.”

“You are talented. I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says back, and your smile only grows larger. Your confidence grows at the way he watches you. You couldn’t take him in a fight. He’s much better than you, and always will be, but you didn’t mean in that way. 

“I don’t mean in a fight, Genji,” you say. The two of you tease each other often, so this is nothing new, but a look of shock takes over his face. His eyes widen, and he chokes out an awkward laugh. Your cheeks flare red, matching the blush on his skin you can just barely see. Genji seems to be stunned into silence, and you curse at yourself in your head. What if that teasing was a little too far? You smile awkwardly and walk past him, toward the door to the training room. You’re about halfway there before he steps in front of you silently. You almost jump. It’s so hard to get used to how fast and quietly he is able to move. 

“Jesus, Genji!” You yelp, catching your breath from the minor scare he gave you. You start to laugh, but it dies when you see his face. His eyes are focused on you, darkening with each passing second. 

“Do you really think you could take me?” Genji says. A shudder runs along your spine at the sudden rasp in his voice. You recover quickly, a smile spreading across your features. 

“Easily.” You say. The challenge is apparent in your voice, and you know Genji picks up on it by the way his eyes darken even more, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. You barely get any warning before his hands are wrapped around your arms and he’s moving you across the room. Your breath is nearly knocked out of you when he pushes you against a wall, your back against him. You brace your hands on the wall, feeling your face heat up. He leans into you, and you can feel his hardening length pressing against your back. He lowers his head until you can feel his breath against your neck. 

“You are so lucky I have a meeting later, or I would bend you over the weapons table and test that confidence, angel,” he growls into your ear. You shiver as you feel his hand snake around your body. One hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you pinned to the wall, while his metal hand reaches in between you and the wall. He pulls your shirt up slightly and runs his hand along the skin by your waistband, the metal a chilling contrast to the heat on your skin. You have to bite your lip to keep a whimper from escaping at just that. 

His hand starts to dip even lower, slipping under your waistband. He just barely touches you, a ghost of the sensation tingling against you. You rest your forehead against the wall, and hear a chuckle behind you. 

“Look at you, already falling apart and I’ve barely even touched you,” his voice is laced with a mock sweetness that goes straight to your core. This time, you can’t bite back the whimper that escapes, and you feel the way Genji stiffens behind you at the sound.

“Please,” you whisper out, and you know you sound far too gone. Genji tuts, then you feel the mask pressing against your skin. He slips the mask down just enough to press a soft kiss against the skin of your pulse point. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he says against your skin. “If you can take me, surely you can wait and survive the antics, angel,”

“No, please,” you choke out, but he backs away from you. You stay braced against the wall, panting wildly. You knew he had been a playboy before, knew he would be a master of teasing, but you never knew it would be like this. He spins you around, cupping your face. You look up into his dark eyes, which soften at the sight of you. He pulls his mask back down and pulls you into a kiss. His kiss is rough, claiming, like he is marking you as his and his only. You kiss him back, trying to get as close to him as possible. A soft moan escapes your throat when he runs his tongue along your lower lip, and he so eagerly accepts the access you gave him. 

The two of you start pushing each other further, and when you grind against him, he grunts and pulls away. A smirk takes place on his features before he hides it  behind the mask, and then looks back at you. 

“Patience, my love. We’ll get there,” he says. Your heart jumps at the pet name, which feels like more than lust. Before you can think of that anymore, he speaks again. “I told you I have a meeting. You’ll have to wait. But you can take it, right?”

Fuck. He really has you in a box here, and he knows it. Part of you wants to cuss him out for it, for being so damn cocky, but you got yourself into this. You nod, not trusting yourself to be able to form words. 

“Good,” he whispers, then backs away from you. You sink against the wall, your breath still wild and erratic. You can see the smile in his eyes when he sees how he’s made you, and then he leaves you there, in the training room, out of breath. 

The next few hours were torture. You tried to distract yourself by training more, but that didn’t work. You walked back to your room and took a shower, but it didn’t quell the heat on your skin and inside you. You ended up laying in your bed, your fingers twitching with the urge to touch yourself. You managed to not do that, though. 

That’s exactly how you are lying when you hear a knock on your door. You rise quickly, and see Genji step in, closing and locking the door behind himself. He’s changed since the training room, now in a sweater and jeans, and his hair still has the gleam of wetness from a shower. A black mask rests over his face.

“I hate you,” you say to him, and he only laughs in response. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“I thought you could take me,” he says, quirking an eyebrow as he crosses the room to you. 

“I can,” you say, your stubbornness unwavering. 

“Then prove it,” he says as he reaches you, his hands immediately finding your hips. His fingers curl into your skin as he pulls you toward him, and you know there will be bruises there in the morning. 

“How can you tease like that without it affecting you?” You say, your voice nearly dying in your throat when he grinds onto you. He chokes out a dry laugh. 

“Unaffected? You really don’t know what you do to me, do you?” He says. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to focus in that meeting when all I could think about was you? About making you beg for me?”

“I don’t beg,” you retort back, mostly to hide the way your heart jumps in your chest. 

“We’ll see about that,” he says, but before you can say anything back, he pushes you down onto the bed. He follows you onto the bed, leaning against you until his face is buried in your neck. You hear the strings of his mask snap, then his lips are against your skin. He presses a soft kiss above your pulse point, then sucks on the skin. His tongue darts out over it, then he’s pulling away from you. He leans down against you again, pressing his lips to yours this time. This kiss is different from the other, though. This one is more controlled, slower, like he is savoring you. You moan when he grinds down onto you, his length teasing against your core, and he takes the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. You try to fight for dominance against him, but he takes it without much of a fight. You melt against him, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he is able to turn you into putty in his hands. You probably would be embarrassed if your brain wasn’t so fogged with lust. 

He breaks the kiss and pulls back, his eyes darting across your face. A smile grows onto his face, and you feel the way your cheeks heat up under his gaze. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. You shake your head, but you can’t ignore how that makes your heart beat a little too fast. 

“I bet you tell everybody that,” you joke. Maybe he does. He was a playboy after all. 

“No, just you,” he says, his hand reaching to your face and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s oddly tender, given your current situation. “You’re also the only person who has seen my face in a time like this.”

You stare back at him, taking in all of his scars, his dark hair falling over his face, the metal you can currently see that isn’t covered by his clothes. You’ve seen his face here and there before, but why would you be the one that he lets see his face in an intimate moment like this? What is special about you?

You can’t think about it much more, though, because his hands dip under your shirt and any train of thought you had is gone now. He pushes up, your shirt moving until your chest is completely bare for him. You sit up slightly, tossing the shirt over your head and somewhere onto the floor, before he pushes you back down and his hands run along your body. He stops at your breasts, his metal hand pinching one of your nipples. You squeak, the mix of pain and pleasure catching you off guard. Though, it isn’t unwelcome by any means. He keeps rolling one of your nipples between his fingers as he leans down and pulls the other one into his mouth. He sucks on it, then ever so softly bites it. A whimper escapes at the sensation, and you can feel how he smiles against your skin. 

He only gives your breasts a little bit more attention before he is kissing down your body. Each touch of his lips against your skin leaves you even more and more breathless. When he reaches the waistband of your pants, he dips his fingers under them.

“Lift your hips,” he purrs against your skin. You obey his order as soon as it leaves his mouth, and he pulls your pants and underwear down and off. The chill of your fan kisses your hot skin and leaves you shuddering. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s now fully clothed while you are completely bare. He pauses, his eyes racking up and down your body. His gaze is heated, and he leans back to take all of you in. That only makes a shy smile grow on your face, and you reach up to cover your face with your hands. He moves faster though, just like he always does, and he catches you by the wrists. 

“No, don’t hide from me,” he whispers. His eyes are still dark, wicked, and warm, but they soften when he sees the smile on your face. He releases your wrists and your hands fall onto the bed, his order clearly heard and obeyed. 

“Genji,” you whisper out his name like some sort of prayer. 

“Hm?” He asks, one of his hands gingerly touching along your stomach. He’s so close to where you need him, but he feels oh so far away. 

“Touch me,” you breathe out. He just smirks, his touch now running up and down one of your thighs. 

“I am touching you, angel,” he says, resulting in a groan from you. He really is such a cocky playboy. You don’t want to eat your words, you really don’t, but you need him, his hands, his tongue, anything. 

“Please,” you beg. His eyes grow even more wicked, his smile damn near evil, as his touch gets even closer. His metal hand ghosts along your core, damn near touching your clit, but painfully not close enough. He moves a few inches back, until he is able to kneel on the floor and be level with your core. A kiss presses to your thigh, then ghosts over your sex. It’s barely there, teasing in a way that almost hurts. 

“Please, Genji,” you beg again. All thought about not wanting to eat your words is gone, completely overshadowed by lust and need. 

“I thought you didn’t beg,” he says. You start to bite something back, but the words die as soon as his hand finds your clit. You take in a hiss of breath at the sudden direct contact as he makes slow circles around it. You roll your head back, letting a moan escape your mouth. 

“So, so pretty,” he says softly. Then his fingers are gone, and you whimper out loudly. “Shhh.”

His fingers are quickly replaced by his tongue. He laps at your core, and your legs clench around his head. Your hand even finds his hair, digging in and pulling ever so slightly on the soft strands. He groans against you, and the vibration is enough to send shivers up and down your spine. You try to form words, to ask for more, but he gives it to you before you can. One of his metal fingers delves into you, pumping slowly in rhythm with his tongue. You whimper, your legs already damn near shaking. His hands, his tongue, they’re the closest thing to holy that you have ever experienced. 

It barely takes any time for you to be writhing under him. It’s like he knows exactly what to do to make you come undone. Whines and whimpers fill the room as he keeps his steady pace on you, until you’re damn near speechless. 

“Genji, I-” you say, but no other words come out. He picks up his pace ever so slightly, and eventually you’re grinding down onto his hands and tightening your legs around his head. The way he is able to recognize how your body is responding to him is impressive, to say the least, and your orgasm starts to rock through your body. You dig your nails into his scalp as your legs start shaking, and you start to see stars dance along your vision. He continues to lap at your core through your orgasm, never letting up on you. Your legs keep shaking, and he wraps one of his arms around one of your thighs to steady you. He guides you through the overstimulation with expert grace, until you’re damn near sobbing from the sensations.

He eventually relents, pulling away from your core and pressing soft kisses along your thighs. He lets you come down from your high, his lips soft against your skin the whole time. But you know he can’t be done. He’s hardly the type to stop now. 

“Do you have any condoms?” His voice snaps you out of a daze. It takes a moment for your brain to connect the dots, but you shake your head. 

“I don’t want to use one. Not with you,” you say softly. You’ve been on birth control since becoming a recruit at Overwatch. He nods, then yanks his sweater over his head. You watch the way his lean muscles move under his skin, the way his abs move with each breath, the way metal is part of his body. It’s beautiful, he’s beautiful. He doesn’t seem to be insecure under your gaze, because he lets you watch him, then starts to unbutton his jeans. You can hardly focus on anything when you see the bulge in his jeans. You always wondered if his cock was metal or flesh, and you get your answer when he pulls his jeans and underwear down past his hips. It’s flesh, as are his thighs. The metal doesn’t start until just above his knee on one of his legs. Another time, you would love to take his entire body in your gaze, to drink it all up and run your hands, and lips, along each and every place and scar. Now, though, he cuts off your staring when he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

The two of you are somehow closer than you were any other time, and your breath catches in anticipation when you feel him at your entrance. His dark eyes flick up to watch your face as he pushes into you. Your back arches into him as you whimper, but you don’t miss the way he groans. He stays still for a few moments, letting you adjust to his size. You should have known he wasn’t small, not with how cocky he is. 

He starts to move, ever so slowly, but it’s enough to make your mind spin. He feels so fucking good. You whisper out his name, and he responds by leaning against you and kissing you. It’s sloppy, but his lips are still divine. Your hands find purchase along his back, your nails digging in slightly. One of his hands, the metal one, reaches between you and starts moving in slow circles against your clit. You pull away from the kiss as your body arches into him even more, and he drops his head to press kisses against your neck. A moan, somehow mixed with a whimper, escapes your lips and you feel him smile against your skin.

“Still think you can take me?” He says against your skin, then pulls back to look at you. His eyes are so wicked, so warm, and he’s watching you with a smile on his face. He’s smiling while he’s making you come undone. 

“Okay, okay! You’ve proven your point. Please,” you say, your voice breaking on the last word. His smile grows even larger, if that’s at all possible, and then he picks up his thrusts. His metal fingers still toy with your clit, and the combination of sensations has you teetering over the edge all too quickly. 

“You do take me so well, angel,” he says. You can only whimper as a response, afraid of how you would sound if you tried to talk. 

“So fucking good for me,” his praise continues, and those words, combined with his deep thrusts and touch, is enough to send you over the edge. You cry out his name, your legs shaking around his hips and your nails digging into his back. This orgasm rocks you harder than the other one, which you didn’t think would be possible, and your legs twitch as your climax takes over. Your eyes roll, your back arches, and his thrusts never stop. 

He’s unrelenting, and it rocks through your entire body. Stars take over your vision again, and you think you whimper out his name again. His thrusts start to get sloppy, like the feeling of your orgasm on him impacted him. You hold onto him as he continues thrusting into you, but you can tell he is losing his composure. You run your hands up and down his back, just softly scraping the skin with your nails, as his orgasm starts to take over him. His head falls into the crook of your neck, and you softly run your fingers through his hair as he moans against your skin. His orgasm hit him as hard as yours hit you, if this is any indication. 

He almost collapses onto you once his high comes down, but he holds himself up with one arm. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, out of breath and holding each other. Neither of you speak, but it’s a comfortable silence. 

He eventually does get up, a shiver going through your body at the lack of contact when he’s gone. You hear the sink in your bathroom run, but your legs are far too numb for you to get up and see what he’s doing. He comes back quickly, a washcloth in hand. You feel the warm cloth against your skin. He cleans you carefully, his delicate touch a dizzying contrast to how he was before. 

He discards the cloth and then climbs into the bed with you, pulling you into him until you are laying across his chest. He seems to know just how jelly-like your legs currently are, because he helps you move until you’re under the blankets with him, cuddling up against his body. You make a content little noise, and hear a chuckle from him.

“I stand corrected,” he says, and you look up to see him. He smiles down at you, then speaks again. “You definitely can take me.”

“Well, you took awfully good care of me,” you say back, a sleepy smile on your face. He laughs again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Don’t stroke my ego, love,” he says. There’s that pet name again. He says it with such softness, such tenderness, it feels like the result of more than lust.

“I’ll take you again too,” you laugh out. 

“Let me take you on a date or something first. I want to properly try this with you,” he says. Despite everything the two of you just did, your cheeks flare red again. You bury your face in his neck, hiding the pink tint of your face. He just..confessed to you that this is more than lust, that he wants to properly take care of you, take you out, not just fuck again. 

“I’d like that,” you say against his skin, pressing a kiss into his neck like he did so many times to you. He pulls you closer, if that’s even possible, and the two of you settle into a soft sleep like that, holding each other and with smiles on your faces.

[kendricklamardrider]

hes full of soup. what soup? the good soup

He’s full of soup 🍲

[kendricklamardrider]

sobbing

An Ocean Between Me and You

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x You (gender neutral reader)

You love him. You love him dearly. You just never thought he'd love you too, not the way you wanted. Scared to mess it up, you confess one night when you think he's asleep.

He isn't.

warnings: slight Yandere!Yuta at the end. But can be read otherwise.

🦇🩸First fic on here! People seemed interested in my napping with Yuta post so I decided to take a crack at it. Lowkey self-ship coded.🩸🦇

Life with your best friend is easy most days.

Yuta has an energy to him that calms your racing thoughts, his presence pulling you back down to earth and grounding you when all you want to do is fly high. He's a steadying hand in a life of uncertainty, always there, always ready for whatever comes at you next.

"We'll take it on together," Yuta would say, his smile tired but sincere. "Me and you."

It was no wonder you fell in love with him. It was all too easy, honestly. He's an easy person to love. Sometimes it was even easier than breathing.

The rain outside carries on, a storm brewing on the horizon and crawling across the earth in a slow drag. You've been restless all day, the gloom a nice break from the searing sun of Japan, but you want to do something other than watch a movie. So when it's finally bearing down on your apartment, you give your roommate an impish grin.

"Yuta."

"Hmm?" He asks from the other side of the couch, his hand resting on your ankle. His thumb brushes the delicate bone there through your obnoxiously colored socks.

You roll off the couch with a grunt and spring to your feet, ignoring the rushing of blood that makes you momentarily dizzy, too busy grinning and running to the door like a child. You forgo your shoes and a jacket, ripping open the front door and running through it with a cackle. It's imperative to get to your destination before he catches you. His mother-hen tendencies will ruin your fun if he does.

"Hey! What are you doing, you're going to get sick!"

You don't answer, running down the apartment stairs. The rain has made the steps slick and you nearly slip and brain yourself against the rails. It only spurns you on, your giggles wild. A glance behind you shows Yuta on your heels, his shoes only half on.

"Come on! Let's play in the rain!"

"It's too cold, let's go back inside!"

"If you really didn't want to, you would have caught me already." You take the stairs two at a time now, delighting in the exasperated huff you feel across the back of your neck.

He's so close. Damn him and his stamina. But you are flooded with the sudden need to be in the rain. If it's to wash away your restlessness or if it's an excuse to regain his attention, you don't think you want to know. Not now, when he's so close behind you. You reach the bottom of the stairs and spin out in the middle of the grass.

You're both growing up so fast. Already adults and forced to make your way out in the big wide world, beaten down daily by its trials and tribulations. Truly, what is the harm in indulging in childish happiness when you can?

He catches you around your middle mid-spin. You squeal before leaning back into his chest, the noise tapering off to delighted laughter. You always get him to play your games in some way. Moments like this, where he turns you around in his grip, his smile heartbreakingly soft and so, so fond...you think he could love you too.

Yuta looks at you like you're the center of his world. It's a heady feeling, tangible like an embrace. You start to hum a long-forgotten melody, swinging the both of you back and forth in a mockery of a dance. Yuta laughs gently, giving in.

"Okay, okay. Not for too long or you really will get sick."

"What, don't want to take care of me?" You bat your lashes and feel rewarded when he smiles.

"I already do that, don't I?"

"Oh, whatever." You twirl him and watch as his hair plasters across his rain-slicked skin. Your fingers twitch with the need to push it out of his face but you hold steady, focusing on a song only you can hear.

It's too easy to love him, you think, especially when he's like this. He's beautiful.

Your chest aches.

Eventually, you have to go back inside. The rain has soaked you both down to the bone and shivers begin to wrack your body. Yuta takes note of your sheepish smile and lets out an amused huff of air before gesturing for you to get on his back.

He's warm through the wet fabric of your clothes, goosebumps erupting across your skin. You sink into the warmth, pressing your nose into his hair, an animal seeking heat. The ride back up to your apartment is slower than his usual pace, his hands firm on your thighs as he carries you up.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"And yet you're stuck with me."

"And you're stuck with me." You both laugh.

Despite how much you wish the ride up could last, nothing good ever does for long. You both reach your door all too soon and you slide off his back, your body still pressed against his for the briefest of moments in a moment of weakness. Yuta shudders and you pull away with a flush.

"Thanks," You mumble, patting his shoulder as you walk past him into your home.

Yuta kicks his shoes off and disappears for a moment, returning with two towels. "Let's get you dried off."

Your breathing and the sound of water dripping onto the floor are the only noises in the quiet home. It makes sense for you both to have moved in together. You did almost everything together, so why not just live with your best friend while you're at it? It'd save you both the trip. Plus, it allows you quiet moments like this, the both of you damp from rain but content all the same.

It's so easy to pretend in these little snippets of time that he's all yours. That the room you'll shuffle back to is one you share and that you won't have to crawl out of in the morning before he wakes up. A lump forms in your throat as you break away from each other to head to separate rooms to change.

The best you can do is take what he gives you. Sometimes you get to flop into his bed for a nap- if he takes pity on you that is. He's always been cagey about sharing his bed in a way you don't quite understand. On the couch, he's never far from you. But maybe the bed is too much, too far past the boundary of friendship for him to be comfortable with. Though there are rare exceptions where he drops the invisible line and lets you snuggle into his sheets that smell so strongly of him.

Like today. You bite back a smile as you poke your head into his room, now in dry clothes. Yuta sits on the edge of his bed, looking at his hands with an unreadable expression. It's enough to pull the smile off your face.

"You alright?"

Yuta jerks up and gives you a shaky smile. "Yeah. Just tired. Want a nap?"

"I was hoping you'd ask. I think I might fall asleep standing if I don't lay down soon."

"Can't have that, can we?" He asks softly, laying out on his bed and patting the space next to him. It's the same place you lay each time, to the right of him next to the wall.

You slip into the room and crawl across the bed, grinning at him. Heavy-lidded eyes track your movements, the whisper of his clothing rustling against the blankets beckoning you closer as he makes room. Your heart is hungry and you take the invitation readily, pulling the blankets over your body the second you lay down. The gap between you both is humbling. It's ocean-wide despite how he's not even an arm's length away.

It's still too far and yet all too close. This close-up, you wonder if he could read you. Can see your feelings for him and how strongly even something as lying next to him affects you. You grip the sheets tighter to keep from gripping him. Yuta flicks the lamp off and rolls onto his side, his back facing you.

For the next twenty minutes, you're convinced this is agony. So close and yet so far- the irony is not lost on you. He's the refreshing drink just out of reach in the middle of the desert. When you think the coast is clear, you inch your way forward with closed eyes to press your forehead between his shoulder blades. You rest it there, muscles uncoiling as you breathe him in.

"You know, I wish you loved me like I love you. I'm sorry for it.' You whisper, burrowing further into the line of his spine. "I really am."

It's not quite a kiss you press to his back but more of a touching of lips. It's brief. It's chaster than the searing hunger in your chest desires. But you eventually force yourself to roll onto your other side and succumb to sleep, broadening the gap between you both once more.

You wished he loved you. That he saw you the way you see him. He's the light on the porch when you're coming home, the hand at your back when you ride the train together, steady and comforting and safe. He's the rush in your veins and the craving that makes your teeth ache for a bite of him.

Yuta is everything to you and loving him hurts in the most beautiful way. But at least you have this.

It is enough.

No it's not, your heart weeps. It'll never be enough.

You're fast asleep and you don't notice the way the bed dips beneath your still body. Yuta's stare is heavy on the wall before he cranes his head down to look at your sleeping form, his denim-blue eyes wide.

You love him?

Him?

His hand shakes as it rests on the back of your head, his fingers trembling. Your hair is still damp from the rain but he doesn't care, he runs his hand over it all the same with a reverence that would shake your bones. Warmth blooms in his chest and Yuta smiles.

"You love me," Yuta breathes. "You love me."

His grip tightens on your head. The corners of his smile twist a touch too wide. Your words echo in his head over and over again, a song that will play on repeat for the rest of your lives. You love him, and he loves you. It's all he could have dreamed of. It's all he's ever wanted.

Yuta knows then that he could never possibly let you go. The hunger in his heart outmatches yours easily, a hurricane to your summer storm. Even now, with his hand on your head, it howls for more.

"Sweetheart," He whispers back, his hand trailing from your head down your side. "I'm going to make you the happiest person alive. You can count on that."

[kendricklamardrider]

hes so babygirl

Hi! May I request a fic or HCs (if you’re comfortable with one of these choices) involving Ryo Kiritani (Yoru) with VP agent![Reader] [Gender Neutral or Female] [Romantic] gifting him a new knife to add in his collection? I think it’s canon he has a hobby like that and [Reader] happen to pick one up from their previous mission.

Surprise! [Request]

Here you are, hope it's a good one! The request was kinda short. I tried my best to make due, haha.

Words: 1500+

❤ฺ·。

You and the cold never got along well. And that includes any country that involves it. Like Russia, Canada, Norway, that sort.

So when you were assigned a mission in Icebox, of course it felt like the longest day of your life. From the fur on your coat making you sneeze every other second, to the enemies bringing every single person who had a flash along. Now, your eyes were burning too.

But after what felt like days, it was thankfully over, and you were making your way to the aircraft from mid with something in your pocket for your other half.

Then, you felt a slap on your back.

“Hey bestie! Did you see me back there? It was insane! I would’ve gotten all of them if it wasn’t for–”

You sneezed, a quiet achoo. And as per usual, Jett couldn’t stifle her laughter, slapping your back again.

“Your sneezes are so cute!”

“You’re making the fur fly into my nose!”

“I’m doing you a favour. Just sneeze around Yoru and I bet he’d act like he was under a love spell!”

You met her gaze in confusion.

“He’s already my boyfriend, remember?”

“Tomato tomato.”

She shrugged. And with a sigh, you pulled out the object in your pocket, the gentle rays of the sun reflecting off of it.

“Hey, when’d you get this?”

“Not mine. Yoru dropped it when he ran in behind them, I wanna give it back.”

“Cool! I’ve never seen this before. He’s been whining about his collection lately, did he get this?”

As blunt as her statement was, Yoru had been thinking about getting a new knife to spice things up. You went to a bladesmith secretly to find something a few days ago, but none of it seemed like it would impress him.  Of course, you were disappointed he bought a new knife before you did.

She suddenly took it from your hands and began playing with it.

“Careful, Yoru gets mad if there’s one imperfection.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, I’m an expert at knives. I killed two of them today with just two! I think all the practice is finally paying off.”

“Yeah?”

But before you could continue the conversation, the distant chatter of your teammates took over the sound of the ice crunching under your shoes, the aircraft sitting right next to them. Viper, who had her hands on her hips, noticed you whilst she was talking and waved you all over.

Jett quickly handed you back the pocket knife.

“I have to go yell at Phoenix, he ruined my killstreak!”

And with that, she disappeared into the aircraft, leaving you to join the conversation Viper was having with Yoru and Sage who seemed relieved to see you. But what caught your eye was that Yoru was flipping his signature butterfly comb in his hand. Did he seriously bring two knives?

“Good, you’re here. Are you hurt at all, Y/N?”

Sage asked and you shook your head with a smile, struggling to suppress an upcoming sneeze.

“Then let’s go back. This weather is sickening.”

Viper noted before she and Sage quickly entered the VLT/R, leaving you alone with Yoru.

“Hey, princess. What took you so long?”

“Oh, you know, Jett was bragging about toda–”

You sneezed, cupping your hands on your cold, cold face.

“Yea, I saw her. Keep this between us, but it was pretty good.”

Unlike your friends, Yoru didn’t react to your sneezing and simply continued the conversation. After the fifth time, it got old and he didn’t care as much as your friends did. But to be fair, when did he ever care?

“Yo, how many knives did you bring today?”

“One. Why?” 

Though you asked in a way to somewhat tease him, his reaction left you confused.

“Just one?”

“Yeah, this one.”

He flipped his butterfly comb shut and held it up, raising an eyebrow.

“Is the cold getting you, or something? Hurry up, let’s get you warm before something happens to you.”

“I’m not a kid–”

Before you could complete your sentence, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside the aircraft, shutting you up as politely as you could. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t weirded out by what he just told you.

If this wasn’t his knife, then whose was it? On the handle, there clearly was an oni engraving. Even down to the way the horns would stick out with impressive sharpness, how the creature’s devilish eyes were slanted downwards and providing a formidable villainous aura. It screamed Yoru in every possible sense.

…whatever. You’ll worry your head off when you’re warm. You lay your head on Yoru’s shoulder and were basically half-asleep the whole ride back to the base.

❤ฺ·。

Your nose was red, and so were your cheeks. Your hands were ice cold, lips and the tips of your fingers a light shade of blue.

With all of this combined, you were now locked up in your room covered with, at the very least, three thick wool blankets, one Yoru brought himself in order to keep you warm, and one of his thick hoodies before he had left to make you that drink to warm you up. Which you hoped would be hot chocolate. 

Maybe you were asking for too much, but he knew what he was getting into by dating you. He calls you ‘princess’ for a reason, after all.

But this situation was perfect for you.

In your hand lay that pocket knife. Clean from the soot after today’s mission. And now you knew now where it came from.

Considering that Yoru wanted a new knife for his collection, and this wasn’t something he bought recently, it would make the perfect gift for one reason.

What knife could possibly impress your pedantic boyfriend? That’s right, a knife he himself would have.

The door slid open and Yoru’s familiar footsteps echoed through the quiet space, before it slammed shut. You lifted yourself from the blankets with a smile, hiding the weapon in your sleeves with a cheeky idea in mind.

“Hey. Still up for tea?”

“Tea? Pshh. You’re so lame.”

“You’re out of cocoa powder.”

“I’m out of what?”

He shrugged and sat next to you.

“Phoenix took it, but you didn’t hear it from me. Call me if you guys start fistfighting, though.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled him closer to you, wrapping the blankets around him as well. But you couldn’t help but be annoyed at Phoenix. Though he’s your friend, he stole the last remaining cocoa. 

You’ll cancel his Christmas, for sure.

You grabbed the cup of tea with your free hand so as to not let the weapon accidentally slip out. The herbal scent of the drink filled your nostrils, the heat of it gently warming up your trachea. You never liked tea before you met him, but he somehow made matcha anything taste heavenly.

Then, you straightened your back and stared at his face.

“What?”

“Yo, I think there’s something behind your ear.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“My what?”

“Let me get that for you.”

You brought your hand to his right ear out of his vision. Then, you slowly drew it back, the pocket knife slowly appearing within your hands like magic.

“Woah, babe, what is this?”

You called out with faux shock, unable to keep yourself from grinning. His eyes glimmered with an immense amount of confusion as he watched you dangle the object between your fingers, before smiling and lightly slapping your arm.

“Stop. That’s so cheesy.”

You giggled. It really was.

Yoru took the knife from your hand and observed the handle the same way a critic would. Though his expression remained as vacant as it always was, you could tell he was impressed.

The oni on it was something he’d definitely come up with, so it left him awestruck in every sense of the word.

“Woah. Where’d you buy this?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets, babe.”

He clicked his tongue and met your gaze.

“Cut me some slack, princess. Didn’t I show you my knives before?”

Yoru jokingly pouted, earning a chuckle from you.

He was fairly hush hush about his collection, considering how much his friends liked to ask for his things. Knives, food, hair gel, jackets, that stuff. Not even Raze saw a single knife from it. But so what if he showed you something he’d never ever show to anyone else unless he was six feet under, right? 

Okay, that sounded bad.

You took a sip with a shrug, allowing the fluid to warm up your digestive system. And only within a few seconds, it succeeded ten times more than the blankets ever could. At least you weren’t senselessly sneezing.

As he observed the open knife in his hand, you cuddled up to him, closing your eyes.

“Fine, you big baby. I stole it from your double’s body.”

…

Yeah. From the look on your face, he could tell you weren’t joking whatsoever.

“Weirdo.”

You lightly laughed, taking another sip of your matcha tea.

[kendricklamardrider]

dawwww yuji's first w like ever

(Yuji) Pink, (Angst to Fluff) Pine, #1: Close to soulmate = Warm/hot. Far from soulmate = Chilling/Cold

I have these thoughts on this prompt setting, and i wanna add it. It's your choice to follow or do your own thing!

Yuji lives in Sendai, Reader lives in Tokyo. (Cold)Yuji eats finger, moves to Tokyo. Feels warm, but worries because of curses harming soulmate. But tries to find soulmate, but mission stops him. (Is sad & frustrated)

Reader feels warm, searches all over Tokyo for Yuji, but very bad luck. (Starts warming, gets cold immediately.)

Yuji meets Reader on rainy cold night after Yuji mission. He didn't notice the warmth until Reader says, "I FINALLY FOUND YOU!! Where the heck have you been?! I've been looking fir ya for weeks!!"

- 🌗 Anon

Cutie (Yuji x Reader Soulmate AU)

CW: light swearing, angst to fluff, mentions of death, reader has female pronouns,

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All his life, Yuji had been cold. At least, until he moved to Tokyo. All the sudden, he began to feel fluctuating waves of warmth, not enough to reach the frigid space inside of him that was the absence of you, but enough that he was able to experience little tastes of warmth throughout his days at Jujutsu Tech.

At first, all he could think of was finding you, his soulmate, and that was all he could talk about with his new friends.

In response to his constant gushing, Fushiguro told him that it was fine if he wanted to go find his soulmate, but that he would have to be prepared to face the reality of the peril he was introducing to your life.

Especially since he was the vessel of Sukuna. If the higher ups found out who his soulmate was, there was a high probability that they would use you to get to him.

Despite the warning, Yuji laughed it off, and said he doubted anyone cared enough about him to go to such extreme lengths, and that even if they did, he would be able to protect you.

Shrugging, Fushiguro told him that it wasn't his soulmate, and wished him luck.

When the three first years were called for their first official mission together, Yuji was thrilled, but for a different reason than the others.

The entire car ride down, he kept getting warmer and warmer, meaning he was getting closer to you.

Briefly worrying about your safety due to your proximity to the assignment, he considered trying to find you before the mission so that he could make sure you left the area. But he eventually decided that the mission was more urgent, and that he would just have to deal with it quickly so that he could go find you.

Then shit hit the fan.

Fighting the semi-special grade cursed womb he realized three things.

One, he wasn't going to die a proper death like he had hoped.

Two, he wasn't strong, and he wasn't special. He was just a scared boy who had deluded himself into thinking he wasn't.

And three, he wasn't okay with dying. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live a normal life, to find you, to fall in love. But that wasn't what fate had in store for him.

Then Fushiguro's signal had allowed him to hope. Just a little bit. And even though the hope lasted mere minutes, he clung to it, only to have it destroyed as Sukuna ripped his heart out, leaving Yuji with an impossible choice.

Oh, how he wished to be selfish. How he wished to allow Sukuna to remain in control, to continue living. But the growing warmth signaling that he was getting closer to you as Sukuna approached the limits of the veil throwing Fushiguro around made the seemingly impossible decision a hell of a lot easier.

If Sukuna was moving towards you, he needed to be stopped. Plus, Yuji's raven haired friend was quickly tiring and wouldn't last much longer.

And with that, Itadori Yuji resigned himself to death.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ever since a couple weeks ago, you began to feel little waves of warmth.

Knowing that it meant that your soulmate was now closer to you, you had been thrilled, sometimes wandering the city using the warmth as a guide to see if you could find them.

But yesterday you felt the warmest you had ever been, with the comforting heat increasing throughout the day.

So why had it suddenly felt like you had been plunged into an icy pit. The cold had numbed your entire body, causing you to drop everything in your arms as you fell to your knees, teeth chattering.

Inexplicable hysteria had bubbled in your throat, accompanied by a feeling deep in your gut that your soulmate was gone. That he had gone somewhere you couldn't follow.

Dimly you remember sensing your friend's panicked face and voice, obscured by the tears trickling down your face and the cotton stuffing your ears.

"C-cold."

You had managed to choke out, curling into a ball as your vision went dark.

When you had opened your eyes again, you were bundled up at home in bed.

The next day went by in an excruciating blur of heat packs, baths and electric blankets as you tried to warm your numb bones and cope with the growing suspicion that your soulmate had died.

So why, twenty four hours later, did you feel an ember of warmth again?

Suddenly all of the blankets and layers that had barely taken an edge off the ice in your bones seemed stifling.

Getting out of bed, you were glad for the relief from the cold, but the the perplexion set in.

Why did your bond cause you to suddenly go cold? What happened to your soulmate that made it react like that. You wanted answers. So you were going to get them.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Weeks after the cursed womb incident, Yuji sat outside in the rain. He wasn't allowed to leave campus, but he had found a quiet clearing that helped to silence his thoughts.

At least it normally did, but a deranged looking teenager had just dragged herself out of the woods, bringing with her a feeling of delightful warmth that seemed to fill his heart and soul.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"THERE YOU ARE!!!!"

You bellowed, feeling a delicious warmth spread from your chest all the way down to your fingers and toes, making it so you didn't even feel the icy bite of the rain falling on you.

"I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU FOR WEEKS!!!!"

You start striding towards the gobsmacked boy who you were sure was your soulmate.

You stopped in front of him before crouching so you were eye to eye and extending your hand.

"Hi. I'm your soulmate."

You said, before telling him your name.

Slowly recovering from his shock, he responded.

"Uh, I-I'm Itadori Yuji....um how did you get here?"

"Well, after that awful scare you gave me a couple of weeks ago, I've been following the warmth around the city trying to hunt you down. And the bond led me here I guess."

"Ohh, okay."

He perked up.

"I've always wanted to meet my soulmate! Oh my gosh I have so much to learn about you! What's your favorite candy? No, wait. Do you like meatballs? I can make some killer meatballs!"

You tried to suppress a smile at his rambling, but he noticed, and suddenly his eyes widened.

"And I just noticed, I mean you're covered in mud and your hair's a mess, but you are really cute. Like really really cute. Like pretty. And I mean I always imagined what you would look like, I was kinda hoping like Jennifer Lawrence, but holy shit you're like gorgeous. Like-"

You cut him off by kissing him, wrapping one hand behind his neck.

He froze, but after a second kissed you back.

You pulled away and rested your forehead against his.

"Sorry 'bout that."

You breathed, grinning.

"For the record, I think you're pretty cute too."

Yuji's brain short-circuited.

"Be my girlfriend."

He blurted, before slapping a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that! I mean, I'd love it if you were my girlfriend, but I understand if you're not ready-"

He stopped, the sound of your laughter cutting him off.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend."

You kissed him again, then smirked.

"Cutie."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thanks so much for requesting this!! I had a lot of fun writing it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Keep the event requests coming guys!

[kendricklamardrider]

HEHEEHEHEHEHEH cant waaiiiittt 😛

currently working on plush drama pt 2

lil sneakue peakue of art i made for it (just so im held accountable since i keep deleting fics i write because im not satisfied with them)

art by me :)))