#slight deviations of course but still | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheriecoke · 2 years ago

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piece of cake

FEATURING. nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 9.8k

SUMMARY: nanami can't help but notice your strange behavior, and he begins to grow suspicious (aka you throw him a surprise birthday party)

CONTENTS: sorcerer!reader, nanami's bday, husband nanami, reader & nanami povs, gojo being the bestest friend, also everyone loves nanamin!! very very light angst, slight misunderstandings, and ofc nanami being the love of my life. sfw!!!

note: this ended up way longer than i intended! the ending is a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish it before his birthday ended. i love this sweet man so much :(

Nanami didn’t want to be that kind of man.

He knew that letting his thoughts wander into accusations were a one-way ticket to unfounded miscommunication. It was senseless to even go there; coming up with wild solutions that he couldn’t back up would only cause problems that didn’t need to happen in the first place.

With his whole heart, Nanami trusted you. He loved you, and he had never doubted that you felt the same. Honesty was important, and you were both mature enough to understand that communication was the only way to make a relationship work.

He reminded himself of that whenever his mind was clouded with uncertainty.

There was still a small twinge of doubt that wouldn’t leave him alone, and day after day, it became more and more difficult to convince himself that he wasn’t concerned. Every time he tried to speak with you about your strange behavior, you’d talked him into circles, bringing him right back to the beginning of the question like he’d never asked it at all.

Nanami tried to tell himself he was creating something out of nothing, but for weeks, you’d been coming home late, you were always on the phone, and he would have been an optimist or an idiot if he truly believed you weren’t hiding something.

When he really put his mind to it, he could stop himself from coming to unfathomable conclusions. You’d never given him reason to doubt you, even if your behavior had become suspicious as of late.

What he couldn’t diminish was the deeply buried fear that, maybe, you wanted someone more than him.

The entire mess had started just a month ago, when he’d stumbled into the lounge at the high school, a book tucked under his arm and a coffee in his hand. Lunch hour had just ended.

Nanami visited you at the school often, and at this time, you were almost always training Maki, or switching off a class with another sorcerer. Your schedule rarely deviated, and if you weren’t in the middle of teaching, it was because they’d needed you elsewhere.

So, of course, he was surprised to see you were doing neither of those things. Instead, you were in the lounge with Gojo, talking in hushed voices while you stood strangely close to one another.

Your back was turned towards the door when Nanami entered, and you gesticulated wildly with your hands. Between your speed and the low volume of your voice, Nanami couldn’t catch a word of what you were saying. It was obvious that you were excited, and Gojo leaned up against the back counter with an indulgent smile, placing his fingertips to his chin thoughtfully.

Nanami wasn’t sure whether or not to announce his presence, so he let the door slam shut behind him, breaking up your enigmatic conversation.

You whipped around in surprise, your eyes wide. In a similar manner, Gojo’s head darted up like he had no idea Nanami had entered at all. The scene would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so unfamiliar.

“Nanamin!” Gojo stumbled around the first syllable of his name before recovering smoothly, smiling that cheeky grin of his. “When did you get in? I thought your assignment wasn’t until later this afternoon?”

As Nanami slid into the room, he glanced between you and Gojo with pinched eyebrows, attempting to ignore his unusually awkward behavior. Gojo slid across the countertop, slowly inching away from you until he hit the edge.

“Kento!” you said, in a voice that was much squeakier than your normal tone as you shattered the silence. “You’re here early.”

Nanami had long since given up on trying to understand Gojo Satoru’s behavior, but you were a different case entirely. Your smile was lopsided and uncomfortable, and you wiped your hands on your sides like you weren’t sure what to do with them.

He couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or glad to see him. His features pinched tighter, and he shook off the nasty voice of mistrust that threatened to cloud his logical mind. “I’ve been asked to take Itadori with me today. Apparently, someone’s been telling the principal that I’m a good influence on him.” He took off his glasses, meeting your eyes pointedly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

You smiled sheepishly, drawing closer to him like a magnet. As you left Gojo’s side to stand beside Nanami, that sharp coil of irritation within him released. The lines in his forehead smoothed, and everything was just as it should be.

“I had nothing to do with this,” you said with a small shrug, fixing the tie that was already straight, as if looking for a reason to touch him. “What would make you think that?”

Nanami rolled his eyes at you, knowing you’d had everything to do with it, and gave you an exasperated smile.

You released his lapels shortly after to check the time and frowned when you realized how late it had gotten. “I have to go.” You pecked him on the cheek with a grin, and though Gojo was watching from behind the dark blindfold, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care. “Maki’s meeting me soon, and I don’t want to make her wait. See you later, Kento.”

He squeezed your hand, the action almost imperceptible as you waved to the other man over your shoulder. “Bye, Gojo.”

Gojo returned the action, his lips pulled together playfully as he returned his focus to Nanami. Although he’d seen the two of you together on numerous occasions, his favorite pastime was teasing the younger man about any sign of affection.

Nanami sighed, suspecting that he’d have to tolerate Gojo for the next half-hour until Itadori was back. He took a long sip of coffee that scalded his throat and sat down on the couch.

The silence lasted until Gojo crept unfortunately closer, lurking like a cat until Nanami huffed, the sign of irritation that Gojo had been waiting for. The white-haired man drew out Nanami’s name like a song, and then plopped himself down on the chair across from him, blabbering on about things that Nanami really didn’t want to listen to.

When he realized five minutes had passed without Gojo even taking a breath, he gritted his teeth, and leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t realize you were such good friends with my wife.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth. Nanami had known that you’d gotten closer to Gojo since you’d started working for the school part-time, but you talked about him about as often as you talked about your other colleagues. About as much as Nanami talked about Gojo.

You’d never made it seem like he was the type of person you swapped secrets with in the lounge while everyone else was off on a break.

“Really?” Gojo drew out the word dramatically, his mouth curling into a pout. “I’d say we’re good friends, actually.” He tipped his head back, leaning against the chair with uncharacteristic seriousness. “We mostly talk about you, though. I know you better than I know her.”

“That’s a shame.” Nanami flipped the page, finishing the last bit of his coffee, and feigned irritation, even if he was warmed by the thought of you talking about him so much. “She’s much more interesting than me.”

Gojo laughed, and it seemed to be genuine. Nanami began to grow frightened that he might actually be roped into an actual, amicable conversation with the man.

“Aww,” he cooed sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Nanamin. I know you’re probably worried we’ll become better friends, but you were my friend first.”

Nanami glanced up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Trust me, I’m really not worried about that.” He kicked his leg out, the beginnings of a headache forming in his temple. “I’m more concerned that she’ll invite you over for dinner. I’d like to refrain from any interactions with you outside of work.”

Gojo made a face and then whined dramatically. “You’re so mean to me.” He wiped a hand over his eyes like he was shedding tears.

Nanami sighed.

A few days later, when he took Itadori out for another training session, he began asking Nanami too many questions about his personal life. That fact wasn’t as suspicious as it was frustrating. He couldn’t help that Itadori was curious, but he could’ve asked him these things on the ride over, or while they were at the school.

Invasive questions in the middle of a potential life or death situation were not exactly ones Nanami wanted to tolerate.

“So… what kind of places do you like to shop?”

The question was completely unrelated to his lesson and completely out of the blue. Nanami stopped, eyeing the teenager with undisguised skepticism. “Itadori. I’m not answering that kind of question when we’re in the middle of something serious.” He thought about his words, and quickly rephrased them. “Actually, I’m not answering that question at all.”

Itadori stared back, his face falling theatrically. Nanami could’ve guessed from that expression alone that he’d been spending far too much time with Gojo. “Fine.” He relented, drawing out the word as he scurried to catch up with Nanami, who was already paces ahead.

He let a few minutes pass before his next question.

“Where are your favorite places to eat?”

Nanami closed his eyes to regain his patience. “I’m not answering that either.”

A huff of disappointment. “Well, can I ask about your favorite—”

“No.”

Itadori’s glower turned into something more like a realistic frowny face. Nanami tried to refrain from snapping at him in order to regain his focus. “What can I ask?”

“Anything that you will gain valuable insight from.” Itadori opened his mouth, and Nanami quickly sensed his next words. “Insight that isn’t about me.”

He deflated once more. “Okay, fine.” For a few more moments, he surrendered, letting the conversation stall. Nanami should’ve known better than to expect peace and quiet for long. “So… what days will you be going on assignments? Do you have like… a set schedule, or do you usually get called in?”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, hearing the creak of a floorboard upstairs. There were curses nearby, and if Itadori continued yammering on without paying attention, that would spell a lot of trouble for him and the kid. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m just curious.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you now isn’t the time.”

Itadori opened his mouth, but then seemed to register the sound of cursed spirits, and he finally sobered his attention. His expression changed to one of seriousness, and, thankfully, he let the topic go.

After a particularly stressful mission, Nanami went to the bakery that the two of you frequented, the one that had been the site of many of your dates throughout the years.

It was a quiet little café at the edge of the city, a perfect middle-ground between your home and the school. When he’d been working in the office, and you were still a sorcerer, you’d met him there on numerous occasions, usually bruised and battered, but never without a beautiful smile.

He stretched his back behind him as he headed through the door, his clothes dirtied from fighting and his hair in disarray. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted, wanting just to go home and curl in bed to await your return.

It was a small daydream that would carry him through his last few hours of working, so long as no cursed spirits popped up in his vicinity of patrolling. There seemed to be more and more lately, and if he wasn’t being called off to go fight, then you were, leaving no time for either of you to be with each other.

As he crossed the threshold, another man was exiting, seemingly in a big hurry and carrying a coffee that he almost splashed all over Nanami’s chest.

Reeling in his irritation, Nanami began a polite, “Excuse me,” before realizing who had nearly trampled over him. “Gojo. What are you doing here.”

“What a coincidence seeing you here,” Gojo greeted with a wide grin, like he wasn’t the one infiltrating one of Nanami’s sacred, headache-free spaces.

Nanami cringed, looking at the coffee in Gojo’s hand and the white pastry bag, immediately recognizing the contents. It was your favorite drink, the dessert you got once a week; you’d been ordering the same thing for the past two months, always getting hooked on new things before you eventually tired of them. He knew the order by heart.

“Sorry, I really wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve got important goods to deliver.” He held up the bag and the cup, a receipt folded up between his fingers. Bitterly, Nanami noticed he hadn’t bought anything for himself. For someone with such a sweet tooth, it seemed hard to believe that he’d refrained from indulging.

Which, Nanami concluded with annoyance, meant that he’d come specifically for you. He checked his watch, pushing away the negative emotions. Even though you could’ve called him if you wanted something, like you always did, you’d asked Gojo instead. “She’s not on a break?”

“Some students wanted her help with some things. I told her I didn’t mind getting her something if she wanted to take a break later this afternoon.” Gojo flattened his blindfold over his eyes, the material bunching up around his nose. “Everyone’s out today, anyway.”

“I see,” Nanami said, hating the unnecessary sting in his chest. You knew he’d been working, and even though he told you where he was going, you probably hadn’t seen the message. If you were busy, then he couldn’t expect you to be checking your phone. “Well, tell her I said hello, then.”

“Will do,” Gojo saluted cartoonishly and flitted out the door, smiling with a kind of glee that Nanami, stupidly, wanted to wipe off his face.

Those separate incidents with Gojo had annoyed him, of course, but he knew they weren’t anything to get worked up about. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about the interactions entirely, until another week passed and Nanami slowly started to wonder if you spent more time with the white-haired man than the one you were in a relationship with.

You’d woken up before him that morning, and Nanami opened his eyes to a colder bed and the sound of hushed music softly playing from behind the bathroom door.

It was a cooler day for June. You’d opened the window, and there were dark clouds gathering in the sky, a sign that it was going to storm any time now. He stretched his stiff back, padding to the hallway, where he could see the light coming from the bathroom, the door cracked open. The smell of your perfume wafted through, and Nanami had half a sense to drag you back to the bed and keep you there until the weekend was over.

He pushed the door open further, leaning against the threshold to watch you swipe pink gloss over your puckered lips. Your makeup was freshly powdered, your hair done up in its usual manner.

Nanami smiled, leaning against the door frame as he watched you finish getting ready. “Where are you going this morning, pretty girl?”

You blinked at him through the mirror, putting the tube of lip gloss back in the bag before turning to him with a smile. You looked so sweet, and he yearned for you, almost in disbelief that you’d been together for so long. “I’m taking the kids shopping in the city with Gojo today.” You wrapped your arms around his stomach, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I’ll be home before dinner. Want me to cook tonight?”

Nanami brushed your cheek, feeling that annoying wave of irritation return to claw at him. He didn’t care that you were spending time with Gojo—he shouldn’t care. Your students would be there too, and you’d been happier ever since you started working at the school. The first and second years cared about you so much already, and Gojo was a much less annoying friend to you than he was to Nanami.

He liked seeing you so happy, despite the toll that the job often took on you. “Don’t worry about it. We need to pick up groceries, anyway. I’ll do that while you’re out.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. Although you’d meant for it to be quick, Nanami had wrapped an arm around your lower back, pressing you closer, deepening the kiss. He ruined your lipstick, smearing it all over his mouth, but he didn’t care.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, holding you close to him.

“I’m still in my pajamas.” You laughed, your cheeks growing warm as you drew away from him, teasingly dodging his final kiss. “Are you sure you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll probably miss you too much.” As you fixed your lipstick, Nanami went back to the bedroom, rifling through his coat pocket for his wallet. He tossed the gold card on the bathroom counter, where your purse was laying.

You eyed him over your shoulder. “No.”

He stared back, just as seriously. “Yes. Buy yourself something nice, sweetheart.” He thought of the young teenager he’d been mentoring, who’d been putting in his best effort, and who he’d, unfortunately, come to care about quite a lot. “Itadori too. Just don’t tell him it’s from me.”

You blinked, before your expression changed into something so bright, Nanami would’ve done everything in his power to keep it there. “I knew you liked him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With an affection so full that it threatened to burst out of your chest, you jumped towards him, wrapping yourself up in his arms. He kissed your temple and breathed, remembering just how much he didn’t want to lose you.

You were true to your word, always. You came back when you promised, you told him where you were going, but Nanami noticed that you’d been even more secretive since you went shopping with Gojo and your students. When he asked your plans, you were even more vague. When you didn’t return with any shopping bags, he found it odd that you smelled of a cologne he didn’t wear.

He reminded himself of how much he trusted you—he really, really didn’t think you would lie to him, but he couldn’t deny that your behavior was confusing him.

Nanami finished off his tea, eyes across the room as he watched you type wildly on your phone, your brows crinkled. You sent a message then waited for a response, impatiently pacing across the kitchen.

He called your name, but you didn’t respond, too enraptured in whatever it was that you were doing. You seemed to be attached to your cell phone these days, always having a call to respond to, and always jumping when he was a little too close to seeing your messages.

Yesterday, Gojo’s name had popped up on your screen with a message, and you’d crawled across Nanami’s lap to get the phone before he could even think to hand it to you. Nanami had done nothing but stare back at you, and you’d smiled at him, embarrassed, still hiding the screen from him as you read the message.

He really, really didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But these days, you were spending all your free time with Gojo, and you grew defensive every time he tried to bring it up.

“Are you done with the tea?” Nanami asked again, piling up the dirty dishes from where he sat, noticing your cup was still half-full, but lukewarm.

You chewed your thumbnail anxiously, bouncing your leg as you waited for the person on the other end to reply. The phone shook in your hands, and you read through it again, obviously disappointed by the short response. He could’ve guessed who you were talking to, even if he didn’t want to.

Nanami frowned and called your name one more time. Finally, you looked up.

“What?” you asked, and then came to understand his question. The tea sat, unenjoyed, and shame marred your features. “Oh. I’m sorry. No, I’m not finished.” You frowned, tucking the phone back into your pocket before rushing over to your seat. “I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, and Nanami stared, waiting for you to finish your explanation, even though you let it die there. “It’s been busy at work.”

Nanami hated how easily he could tell you were lying. He sighed, rubbing his temples as your phone rang again. This time, though, you kept it in your pocket.

It had been like that for the past couple of days. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with any possible explanation other than the most distressing one.

“Kento?” you asked in a small voice, noting his obvious discontent. “Is everything alright?”

He looked up at you, your eyes so wide and full of concern, and even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. His chin fell, arms resting limply at his sides as you looked back at him, waiting for a response. “Is everything alright with you?”

“I’m okay,” you said, shifting where you stood. “Just busy. Like I said.”

The two of you stared at each other, waiting for the other to say what they really wanted to. Never once in your life had you had a problem with communicating, but it felt like now, you were hitting a wall.

All he could do was try his best. If you didn’t want to answer him, he couldn’t make you.

“Okay,” he said, taking your hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and kissed your palm, then the inside of your wrist, before massaging the center of it. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to keep secrets from me. If anything…” he steadied himself for his next words. “If anything changes between us, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”

Your eyebrows creased, before understanding seemed to dawn upon you. “Kento,” you said, dropping his hand to come around the table to climb into his lap, placing your hands on both of his cheeks. “Kento, no.”

“You’ve just been a bit—”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and he couldn’t help but draw back into you, smile when you kissed him all over his face, pressing the affirmations into his skin. “I’m not trying to be distant, really. Things are just busy right now, I promise.” You curled your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and Nanami brought his arms around your hips, settling you on his thighs.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes softened at your frown, and he brushed his thumb under your shirt, grounding himself against your skin. “I love you.”

That put a smile back on your face, and you kissed him, whispering the same words against his lips.

Now, though he wasn’t so sure he believed what you were saying, as much as he wanted to. Maybe you were just busy at work, but you were certainly hiding something from him.

He knew that everyone had their secrets, but maybe it would’ve stung less if you’d just admitted you were hiding something from him.

The following week was the same routine, and as the workdays ended, Nanami saw you less and less each evening. You spent the majority of your time in the city center, and though you were often with your students, you were also with Gojo, and something about that fact was difficult to swallow.

Nanami felt a little sour that you never asked him to go too. He began to wonder if you were purposefully avoiding him, or if the students disliked him as much as he’d thought they did.

It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, and he didn’t want to be overbearing, to seem like he was the kind of man who wanted to control where you were going and spending your time with. He just wished you spared a little bit more of it for him, was all.

He woke with that thought in his mind as he rolled over on the cold bed, reaching out to wrap his arms around you. When he realized the spot beside him was empty, he blinked himself awake wearily, adjusting his eyes to the dark.

The hall light was on, a yellow glow peeking through the cracks under the door, and he frowned as he heard the sound of your voice, low and hushed.

Nanami weighed his decision. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and though you often went to bed much later than him, a phone call at this time was pushing it. He climbed out of the bed, padding quietly over the door to see if he could catch a part of the conversation.

It felt like a breach of trust, and he didn’t want to seem like he was spying on you.

He pressed his ear to the door, waiting for your voice, though it was silent. Half a minute passed. His hands curled around the knob, and he shouldn’t be trying to listen in, he should just go out there and ask you if anything was wrong, and then—

“Gojo, I don’t know what to tell him.”

Nanami stopped, swallowing down his breath to still all noises from his body. He squeezed his fist tighter until his knuckles had gone pale, hearing you murmur under your breath. There were a lot of words he couldn’t catch, and he wrinkled his forehead, trying to catch a hint of context in what you were saying.

“I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out—”

Your voice dropped quiet again.

Nanami felt something fall in his chest as he released the doorknob. He was too tired to think about it rationally, and if he listened anymore, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He stepped away from the door, his lips etched permanently into a frown.

After Kento had fallen asleep, you’d grabbed your phone off the nightstand, going through the to-do list that you’d created for his birthday.

You hadn’t meant for it to get so out-of-hand. He didn’t usually like big celebrations, and he’d never made a big deal of his birthday in the past. Though in your eyes, that was exactly why you needed to do something different for him this year.

Things had been going so well, and from what you could tell, everyone in your close circle cared about him more than he realized. It was the only way you could think to show that to him.

You’d just wanted to do something special for him, and it had turned into long shopping trips with Satoru Gojo, and secretive meetings with your students to make sure everything went exactly as you’d planned it.

And things were going according to plan… Only, you were starting to feel like your attempts at secrecy were sabotaging your relationship, and you feared that Kento thought the worst of your late nights out and your newly formed friendship with Gojo.

It was obvious that you were lying, and every time he brought it up, he seemed to become even more doubtful of your actions.

You flipped the hallway light on, dialing Gojo’s number, feeling antsy in your own skin. After two rings, he answered, his voice groggy and obviously full of sleep.

“Hello?”

“Gojo,” you said in a panic, rubbing your hand over your face with a kind of distress that he couldn’t even see. “I don’t know what to tell him.”

A beat of silence as he gathered his thoughts. “What?”

You almost felt bad for waking him up, but part of this was his fault. He’d been insistent on being a part of the plan, and now, he needed to listen to your apprehensions about the entire situation. He hadn’t exactly been sneaky either.

“Kento.” you said, pacing back and forth in the hallway, your voice rising to a high-pitched shriek, even as you tried to muffle your words. “He’s been asking me so many questions, and I’m so bad at coming up with answers. I’m seeming like a horrible person.”

Gojo hummed on the other line, and you hated how nonchalant he seemed about all of this. This was your relationship, and he was just sitting happily in his home, with the receipt for a cake that had cost way too much, and gifts for a man that had started to doubt you even cared about him at all. “Well…”

“Gojo,” you said his name again, sternly.

“Sorry.” He sighed. “Nanami’s a tough person to keep a secret from. Just keep telling him what you’ve been telling him: we’ve been assigned to more cases together, work is too busy, et cetera, et cetera. That’s fine.”

“But he knows that’s not true.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustration prickling at you. Either Kento was much too perceptive for his own good, or you were just awful at planning surprises. “I’m being too suspicious. I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out, then all the secrecy would have been for nothing.”

Gojo was silent on the other end of the other line. It seemed he was absolutely horrible at consoling you, unlike the man in the other room who was sleeping soundly, unbeknownst to the fact that you were doing this all for him. “Look, it’s only for a couple more days, right? You can keep the secret until then, can’t you?”

You swallowed, steeling yourself for one last week of misery. You weren’t sure you could continue to stand the look of disappointment on Kento’s face every time you did something out of character. “I guess so. Thanks.” You yawned, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. Goodnight.” He hung up, and you stared at the phone once more, trudging back into the other room.

You couldn’t help the guilt that had settled deep in your gut. Even if you were lying to Kento for something special, you knew how it looked on your end. You weren’t good at dispelling his accusations; every time you opened your mouth, you just incriminated yourself more.

You couldn’t wait until his birthday. Things would go back to normal, then, and he could finally see that everyone cared about him more deeply than he realized.

Rubbing your eyes with exhaustion, you crawled back into the space where you always slept. Although, this time, you realized Kento was not asleep like you’d left him but was blinking back at you with concern in his dark eyes.

You jumped, startled for a moment, before settling back down. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay.” He grasped your hand tightly, and you let him, let him drag you close in his arms as he curled around you. “Is something wrong?”

You tensed, and immediately realized that was a mistake. Fuck. You were so horrible at this. You should’ve just let Gojo and Itadori plan the entire thing, and maybe it would’ve been a disaster, but it also would’ve saved you a lot of unnecessary anxiety. “Everything’s fine.”

That didn’t exactly answer his question. Nanami turned on his side, the two of you staring face to face on the pillows. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes darting to each one of yours like he was trying to decipher a message. Then, he sighed. “Was… someone calling?”

“Just Gojo.”

“Gojo?” Nanami repeated, and though he seemed annoyed at the mention of him, at least he knew you were being honest about that. “Why the hell is Gojo calling you in the middle of the night?”

You blinked, realizing you actually had no good lie to cover that one. “Umm…” you played with Nanami’s hand, tracing the tendons and knuckles as he stared back at you patiently. “He wanted to know if I could cover for him in the morning. He’s… not feeling so well.”

You’d have to text him immediately so that he didn’t come to the school until later. Not that he would mind skipping out on a few hours of work, but even that didn’t seem to convince Kento. He opened his mouth, and shut it, as if trying to carefully put his words together. “That’s all?”

He said it in a way that made you think he was giving you an opening, like you had the option to tell him the truth if you wanted. Of course, you couldn’t reveal what you were hiding, but he didn’t know that.

You sighed, and smiled, kissing him as you curled your hands into his hair. “That’s all, Ken. I really am sorry I woke you up.”

Nanami stared back at you for a moment before forcing a smile, returning your kiss with all his fondness. He brushed your hair away from your face and kissed your cheeks before closing his eyes once more.

When the day of Nanami’s birthday arrived, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t panic if everything wasn’t perfect. He’d appreciate the sentiment, no matter what. Things didn’t have to go by the book for them to be meaningful.

Regardless, you went through your mental to-do sheet, made the final reservation for your dinner, and prayed that everything went as you intended.

Though you were usually not a morning person, you’d gotten up earlier than Kento to fix his coffee the way he always preferred, taking a quiet moment to still your excited nerves. When his usual alarm went off, at the same time every morning, you carried the mug back with you to the bedroom and smiled softly at his sleepy form.

You set the coffee down before he could fully gain consciousness, and sprang on top of him, peppering kisses all over his face until his surprise slowly melted, and he was hugging you tightly.

“Happy birthday.”

Kento smiled up at you groggily, his eyes still drooping with sleep as he curled a hand around your jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, hugging you tight as he whispered, “thank you,” the touch of the words barely there at all.

You relaxed in his presence, sitting back as you handed him the coffee, to which his expression grew even more gentle. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed you again on the forehead, making you melt, just as he always did.

“What do you want to do today?” you asked as you laid on his chest, staring up at him with every ounce of love you had to offer. “I have dinner reservations, but you’ve got all day until then.”

Nanami laughed, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. “It doesn’t matter. We can just spend it like any normal day.”

You frowned. “That’s not anything special. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s just a birthday.” He squeezed your arm before maneuvering you gently off of him so that he could sit up on the bed. “Besides, every moment I spend with you is special. I’m happy to just sit around and do nothing until dinner.” Kento seemed to notice your displeased expression, even though your heart had swelled at his comment. “Unless there was something you wanted to do instead…”

He climbed out of the bed, taking one sip of the steaming coffee before setting it back down.

“It’s not my birthday.” You watched him gather his clothes up off the floor with a sigh, the muscles in his back clenching as he bent over. “I want to do what you want to do.”

“And I told you I didn’t care.” He smiled playfully at you, tugging his shirt on over his head. Then, he reached over and squeezed your hand, coming back to where you sat, your legs swung over the side of the mattress.

“Kento.” You pulled him back down with a pointed expression, your faces close, lips almost touching. “I’m serious.”

He stared back at you for a moment, before relenting. “Alright.” Kento bent down, kissing you once more before going into the bathroom. “Let me shower, and we’ll go get some breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Is that what you want to do?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Although you could tell he was amused by your insistence, he softened, his eyes melting into hearts as he turned. “That’s what I want to do. Happy?”

“Very.” You shoved him away, laughing. “Go take a shower. You’re not getting any younger.”

He rolled his eyes and retreated into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind him.

When the water started running and Kento was definitely in the shower, you hurriedly dialed Gojo’s number, begging him to pick up. After the third dial, when you were certain he wouldn’t answer, a short tone cut through the line.

“What’s wrong?” he answered, clearly amused. There was shuffling on the other end, and some sort of yelp. Your brows pinched together.

As you listened closely to make sure the shower water wouldn’t turn off unexpectedly, you frowned. Your leg shook with anticipation. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Gojo released a breath, though his voice grew mumbled on the other end. “Well, you normally only call me if you’re panicking about the birthday situation, so—”

There was a scream. You dragged your hand down your face, as he said something sharply to someone on the other side of the call.

“Gojo?”

“Yeah?” Another sound, this one of extreme pain. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re exorcising a curse right now.”

He paused, and then the sound stopped, everything going silent on his side. “Well… I’m not anymore.”

You wanted to say that you were shocked he’d bothered to pick up the phone at all, but… You weren’t, really. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Unfortunately, cursed spirits don’t know it’s Nanamin’s birthday, so they just keep coming.” He sighed. “What a bummer. If they were nicer, I’d invite them to the birthday party.”

You snorted. “Right. I’m certain Kento would love that.”

Gojo laughed. “So, what were you calling about? If it’s to panic over your much too long list of things for me to do, don’t worry. Everything’s in order.”

“Really? Did you wrap the presents?”

He hummed. “Megumi did.”

You closed your eyes, holding back a sigh. That was probably for the best, anyway. You’d never seen Gojo wrap a gift, but you weren’t sure how it’d look if he did. “Okay… What about the decorations?”

“Itadori is bringing those over once you two leave.”

A part of you wanted to get frustrated with him for doing absolutely nothing, but it wasn’t his fault he had to work, even if he’d promised to help you out. At least he was delegating the tasks. One way or another, it would get done. “Are you going to help him at all?”

“Have a little bit more faith in me than that. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“No I’m not. Did you get him a birthday card?”

“I think Maki offered to do that. And before you ask your next question, yes everyone’s going to be there on time. Kugisaki followed up with everyone.”

“Oh my god… Did you do anything, Satoru?”

“I picked up the cake.” A beat of silence. “Well, I haven’t yet. I’m going right now. I got a little side-tracked.”

He’d given you no reason to doubt him, really. But you were still afraid that something would go wrong, and you’d be left without a cake, in the middle of a very important birthday. “Fine, but just know that I’m texting Megumi in an hour to come check on you. I can only keep Kento out of the house for so long, so you need to make sure it’s perfect.”

“You got it, boss. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Once you’d sent Gojo the final list of things that needed to be done, you put your phone away, promising yourself that it would not be a point of stress while you were at dinner with Nanami. You’d reserved a table at his favorite restaurant and dressed up nicer than you had in a while.

After breakfast, the two of you meandered around the city for the rest of the day until your reservation, as you tried to think of anything that could keep him away from home. Worried that he would catch on, you continued to diffuse his concerns, kissing him with a smile as you pulled him along to the next place you could think of.

And though he’d protested, saying that you didn’t have to dedicate your entire day to him, you couldn’t think of another way that you’d want to be spending it.

When the evening started to fall, you made your way to the restaurant, and the phone buzzed in your bag. You gritted your teeth and ignored it.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go home?” Kento asked you, swinging your hand in his between the two of you. Neither of you had ever been big on public displays of affection, but holding hands through the streets was one of the nicest feelings you’d come to experience. “We have time.”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, and he eyed you curiously, almost stopping in his tracks. “We better get there early, just in case. Don’t you think?”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but then nodded, squeezing your hand. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be early.” He smiled, humming to himself happily. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this for me today.”

“I wanted to. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” You laughed, but for some reason, there was uncertainty behind his eyes. You felt the phone buzzing more and more in your pocket.

The restaurant was packed, and even though you were early to your reservation, they got you seated immediately.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Did I already tell you that?” Nanami said once you were seated.

You flushed, your cheeks growing warm as he stared at you across the table with gentle, brown eyes. “Thanks, Kento,” you said in a quiet voice, knowing that you’d looked much better earlier, when your hair had been perfect, and your makeup hadn’t smudged. Your dress now had some wrinkles, and you were sweating with nerves and the heat outside.

He glanced down at the menu, perusing it, even though he got the same thing every time. You ordered a bottle of wine to split between the two of you.

The server brought the alcohol back and poured it, then took your order back to the kitchen. When Nanami ordered, you dropped your chin in your hands, watching him, distracted by the very sight of him.

He nodded at the younger girl politely, and she grew pink, scurrying off to the next room. Kento looked back at you as you laughed and started up another conversation. You talked about school and work and everything in between, the mood only shattering when you felt the incessant buzz of the phone in your pocket.

You were in the middle of a story, but your sentences started to blend together into something that didn’t make sense. You stumbled over what you were saying, feeling the weight of the phone in your pocket as you tried to refocus on your words, but remained distracted.

The phone buzzed again in your pocket. You gritted your teeth. Fucking Gojo Satoru and his idiotic brain—you’d told him not to contact you.

“Is everything alright?” Kento blinked as you took your phone out and set it in your purse.

“I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated, thoughtful as he swallowed a sip of wine. “Well, I don’t want you to get in any trouble if it’s work.”

“I took off today. If they can’t handle two sorcerers being gone, then they’ve got bigger problems.”

Nanami sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. “I guess that’s true. Speaking of work, I—"

The phone buzzed louder, then there was a pause. It buzzed again. You cringed.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”

The phone started ringing.

You were close to throwing the bag altogether, and probably would’ve, if it hadn’t been one of the most expensive accessories you owned. Nanami looked down at the bag, then back at you, eyebrows raised.

“Honey…” he said, eyes gesturing to the phone. “Just answer it.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and you dug your phone out of the bag, Megumi Fushiguro’s name was bold as it lit up on the screen. You held it tightly in your hand and began to stand, feeling sick and horrible and wondering if all the secrecy had just ruined his birthday. “I’m so sorry Kento—"

He shrugged; his voice was solid with gentle patience. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

You nodded, and waited until you were out of earshot to answer the phone, feeling horrible about leaving him all by himself. Once you were in the bathroom, locked in one of the stalls, you answered. “Hello?”

“Itadori dropped the cake.”

You took a breath before answering Megumi’s calm remark, wondering how close you actually were to snapping. “What.”

In the background, the pink-haired boy wailed over and over, loud cries that were, clearly, full of remorse. “It was an accident!” He shouted over Kugisaki’s berating, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, because that was the last thing you’d expected to happen.

“Itadori dropped the cake,” Megumi repeated, flatly, like you hadn’t gotten it the first time. “It’s all over the floor. Kugisaki’s trying to get him to clean it up, but it’s just making him even more miserable.”

You covered a hand over your mouth, wondering why your eyes were welling up with frustrated tears. Things were not going the way you’d planned. “Is Gojo there yet?”

“Yeah.” Megumi hesitated, and there was a pause, like he was unsure what to do now that he finally had you on the phone. “Want me to put him on?”

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see you, and muttered, “yes.” Within a moment, the older man, currently in charge of three teenagers, was on the line.

“This may or may not be Gojo,” he said, and you were glad that he at least had enough intelligence to sound nervous.

“Satoru.” You tried hard not to panic. “Please, please can you try and find another cake? I know it’s late, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stall here. I’m trying so hard not to be suspicious, but I’m horrible at it.”

“I can try, but—"

“Kento already thinks I’m acting weird, and he keeps asking me questions that I’m doing a very bad job of answering. I feel awful because it’s his birthday, and I’m afraid he thinks I’m just getting ready to split up with him or something.”

“Ouch.” Gojo said dramatically, hissing like he’d been stung. “That’d be a bit of an asshole move, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, I’m obviously not going to do that!” You scrubbed your hands over your face. “He seemed upset today, and I just don’t want all of this to go to waste. Please, Satoru. It doesn’t matter what the cake looks like, but just make sure that you get something, so that—"

“Hey,” he said, dropping the theatrics when you choked back a sob. His tone grew serious. “Take a deep breath. I think you’re forgetting who we’re dealing with here.”

“What do you mean?” You blinked, dabbing your eyes, hoping that your mascara wouldn’t smear.

“Nanami is going to appreciate the gestures, even if they aren’t perfect.”

You inhaled and exhaled, realizing that Satoru was right. Out there was a man that you loved very much, who loved you in return, and this was not as serious as you were making it out to be. “You’re right.”

“Obviously. Enjoy your dinner. I can take care of it.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like a warzone in the background.”

“Everything’s fine,” Gojo swore, even if you didn’t entirely believe him. “I told Megumi not to call you, but he loves getting me in trouble. Please, don’t worry about it.”

You opened your mouth, but Gojo had already hung up.

As you left the stall, you sighed, seeing yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red with unshed tears, but you’d already made Kento wait long enough.

Twitching nervously, you headed back to the table. Nanami was sitting patiently, scrolling through something mindlessly on his phone.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you sat back down, noticing the signs of tears and misery. He reached for you across the table, but then thought better of it, and just frowned.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just really sorry, Kento.” You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s your birthday. I want you to enjoy it.”

A beat of silence passed. He smiled. “I am enjoying it.” He did reach for your hand, then, and pulled it tight against his own. “This has been the best birthday, sweetheart. Why are you upset?”

You swallowed. “I’m not upset.” You shook your head, trying to clear the unhappiness from your expression. “Anyways, what were you saying? I interrupted.”

Nanami’s face fell. You’d changed the subject so quickly; he hadn’t had the chance to ask you any more questions. “Right. Well, nothing important. I just have to be in Kyoto next week.”

You frowned. “All week?”

He nodded. “I wanted to let you know in case you wanted to make plans. You’ve been...” he paused, thinking over his words. “Seeing Gojo a lot lately, so I thought you might want to—”

You stared at him, and realized what he was getting at. Fuck, you felt so horrible. “Oh,” you said, scratching your wrist under the table. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m sure he’ll be busy too.”

That wasn’t the answer Nanami was looking for. He stopped, and then regrouped, nodding. “Well, either way, I wanted you to know. They didn’t give me advanced notice.”

You smiled tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only for a few days,” he said, releasing your hand to place it back onto his lap. “But I’m going to miss you too.” There was something distant in his voice when he said it.

On the way home from the restaurant, Gojo texted you obnoxiously, sending you pictures of the house, the cleanliness of it, the set-up of the gifts, the new cake, and you smiled to yourself, somewhat relieved that things weren’t a complete disaster.

You could feel Kento’s eyes on you as he drove home, his hand resting on your thigh as you turned slightly away from him, keeping his eyes off the screen.

Stop sending me things before he sees my phone.

Gojo’s response was much too quick.

Stop looking at your phone.

You sighed, clicking the screen off and finally relaxing against the window. The secrecy was almost over; you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep this all hidden without causing so much dramatic suspicion.

Nanami pulled into park in front of your home, squeezing your leg gently before releasing it. You expected him to make a move to get out of the car, but instead he sat, contemplative, the key still in the ignition.

You swallowed, looking at him. “Is everything okay?”

He took a breath, turning back to you with some sort of determination in his eyes. “Have I done something to upset you?” he asked, his voice so incredibly gentle.

“What?” you said, laughing nervously. “Why would you ask that?”

His face fell as he looked back at the steering wheel. “I just thought this would be easier if I’d hurt you in some way.”

Your mouth grew dry. You reached for him. “Kento—”

“Look,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair, the strands coming loose, falling onto his forehead. “I’m not trying to… I don’t want to…” His words fell off, and though you knew what he was trying to say, you didn’t want him to say it, because there was no reason for it. “If something’s wrong, I just want to know. Let’s at least try to fix it.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise.” You squeezed his hand, trying to pull away from him. “Can we talk about this inside?” You started to get out of the car.

“No, wait.” He stopped you again, eyes wide with disappointment, like he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “This is what happens every time. I ask you about it, then you find a way to spin my words around so that we never talk about it. I let you every time, because I love you, and I trust you, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart squeezed. “Kento.” You began, feeling bad that you were forced to talk in circles just to get him to believe in your lies. “I promise, we’ll talk about it inside. It’s still your birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it by misunderstanding one another. Please, let’s talk about it once we’re both settled in.”

Nanami’s shoulders stiffened, then deflated, but he didn’t let go of you. “There’s not… Someone else, is there?”

“Of course not.” You said fervently, kissing his hand. “God, Ken. You think I’d want anyone else when I’ve got you?”

He smiled, though it was half-hearted.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll explain everything. I owe you that much.”

You led him into the house, holding his hand tightly, hoping that this went over as you intended. Beside you, he was still contemplative, flicking on the lights as you continued into your home.

“You know, I really think we should still—”

As the lights came on, his words were cut off by some variation of everyone yelling happy birthday, and he blinked back at the students he’d recently met, and all the sorcerers he’d worked with closely in the previous years. His jaw opened, then shut, then he looked at you, then back to Gojo, and you could see the understanding in his features before he’d expressed it, when everything clicked into place.

A moment of silence passed where Nanami said nothing, and then Itadori decided to fill that silence with very off-key singing, and Kento’s cheeks dusted light pink, barely visible in the light, as he squeezed your hand tighter.

Everyone made the rounds, greeting him with varying levels of enthusiasm, while Nanami just thanked them with quiet politeness, even though you could see that he was secretly pleased, his lips curling up into a smile, the signs of stress dissipating from his features.

Itadori approached with a poorly wrapped gift and a hug that Nanami didn’t quite return, but he didn’t push away, either.

Nanami took the gift, holding it with soft eyes like he’d been given something precious. “Thank you, Yuuji. This is very kind.”

“You’re welcome.” Itadori said back proudly, smiling smugly at his two friends over his shoulder, obviously proud that he’d gotten such praise. “It’s probably going to be the best gift you’ll get tonight.”

You could see Nanami trying to refrain from laughing, but he snorted instead. “Is this why you were asking me about all those things that I liked a few weeks ago?”

“Uhh…” Yuuji smiled sheepishly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “No! Not really. But… Maybe.” He sighed. “I’d thought you’d forget about that.”

Kento’s eyes crinkled at the corner, and he squeezed Itadori’s shoulder, clearly touched.

You kissed his cheek and left him alone to talk with everyone that came to visit, going to thank Gojo and the students that had helped you over the past few weeks.

An hour passed before you found Kento again, after the cake had been cut and Gojo had insisted he opened one of the many gifts he’d gotten him.

He was standing in the kitchen, staring at a pile of wrapped gifts and the sliced cake that wasn’t exactly what you’d intended, but had received the same reaction, nonetheless.

“Kento?” you said quietly, and though you could tell that he was appreciative of everyone, you still weren’t sure how the surprise had gone over. He turned to you, his sleeves rolled up, a few more strands of blond hair coming loose. His cheeks were flushed, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been lying—”

Kento was to you in two long strides, backing you into a wall before kissing you deeply. Your hands curled into his hair, and you hummed into his mouth with a smile as his hands rested on your hips.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered against your mouth. “I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to ridiculous conclusions.”

You laughed, kissing him again and again, feeling things finally ease back into normalcy. “I know how it looked—” He looked away, embarrassed that he’d even thought of the possibility that you would leave him for Gojo. “I’m sorry I was so suspicious.” You sighed, leaning back in his arms as you held his cheeks with both hands. “Were you surprised?”

“I wish I wasn’t. It was pretty obvious now that I think back on it.”

“But…”

“But, yes,” he said, kissing your forehead as you preened, proud that it had all pulled together in the end. “I was surprised.” He gave you one last kiss, whispering, “thank you” and “I love you” on your lips.

From behind the door, you heard shuffling, and opened your eyes to see Gojo snapping a picture, to which Nanami groaned, pushing himself away from you reluctantly.

Gojo grinned, “Sorry. I’ll let myself out. Didn’t realize you two lovebirds were in here,” he said, even though he most certainly did.

“Please do,” Nanami gestured in the direction of the front door. “I hate the fact that you even know where I live.”

Gojo’s face fell. “After everything I did for your birthday, and you’re still going to pretend you don’t like me?”

“I don’t.” Nanami sighed, before swallowing down whatever antagonist words he really wanted to say. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Gojo beamed—you intervened before he could even think to throw his arms around Kento.

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fluffyartbl0g · 2 years ago

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Redraw of the panels that SHATTERED MY HEART o(；△；)o!!! OG panels + Opinions on the Luffy separation arc under read more

Okay let me just go on a tangent about my feelings about the post-series Luffy separation arc, cause I think it gets way too much hate when it’s such a heartbreaking and well executed deviation from oda’s standard formula!!! I know that we all love monkey d. luffy and he’s LITERALLY the main character of the series, but it was also really nice to get more time to focus on the rest of the crew. But here’s the thing, even when Luffy wasn’t here, he was still here. And I’m not talking about the so called ‘blessings’ or whatever that kept SUSPICIOUSLY popping up around the crew when Luffy disappeared, I’m talking about the consequences that arised from him disappearing. We truly got to see how grand the effect luffy has had on the world around him, and how many lives he was able to touch ; - ; So even though luffy physically wasn’t present (I mean KIND OF but you know what I mean), this was still VERY MUCH a luffy arc imo.

Oh man but I think Oda wrote luffy’s disappearance so well,,, I was sobbing for like 80 percent of this arc. Like just gradually seeing the crew’s deterioration as time passes by,,, but everyone has such unwavering faith in their captain, he HAS to come back cause Luffy always comes back. But here’s the thing, Luffy didn’t know what was happening to him when he started disappearing. But what he DID know is that he wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to come back or not. And Luffy hates breaking promises- he’d never make a promise if he didn’t plan to keep it, and he’s not an idiot either, so when he just felt himself disappearing and saw zoro nearby... Instead of saying something like “I’ll be back!” and potentially making his crewmates wait for him forever, he tells zoro to “take care of the crew”... SOBBING AND CRYING T - T. So YES. the crew has unwavering faith in their captain. But. Luffy didnt say that he’d be coming back or anything. So what are they supposed to do really.

And it’s really hard to read at some parts, like it never loses the goofy tone that has been there throughout all of one piece and it’s really sweet to see everyone rely on each other to keep one another afloat, but the slight tension that keeps building up over the months while they keep looking for clues and answers... And how each lead keeps becoming a dead end... When it builds up and Usopp finally voices the thing that’s on everyone’s mind.

Oh man. I started crying so hard. It took 6 month for any one of them to say something. Like this is One piece. Of course Luffy is gonna come back eventually, it would be waay too dark otherwise... But Idk man, even I started to doubt that :((( But luckily. THIS IS ONE PIECE. So right after everyone started,,, well not exactly losing hope or anything (maybe a bit)? but going BATSHIT INSANE FROM THE REALITY THAT THEIR CAPTAIN MIGHT BE GONE FOR GOOD, they finally got a solid actual clue of what might’ve happened to luffy!!! And I’m SO GLADDDD!!!!

Omg and when they tracked down the pray-pray no mi user and finally got some answers out of him. OMG WAIT A MOMENT I REALLY LIKED IS WHEN PRIEST GUY IS LIKE “urerheg without luffy up there as a god the entire world may very well be destroyed cause the sun has been super unstable for centuries blah blah” and then Nami freaking PUMMELED THE GUY AND SHOVED HIM DOWN WITH HER STAFF AND

SOBBING CRYING SOBBING. THEY WOULD POTENTIALLY BLOW UP THE ENTIRE WORLD IF IT MEANT THAT THEIR CAPTAIN WOULDNT HAVE TO BE LONELY ; - ; KILL ME.

URGH I was really hoping that Luffy would return right once they beat him up cause I really really missed my boy, but honestly I think the final method of getting Luffy to return was super clever and absolutely worth the extra 3 weeks of waiting!!! I know that it was foreshadowed across the whole West Blue Saga and everything but I honestly had no clue it would end like that, DONT MAKE FUN OF ME :(((

When the crew finally got their captain back after 8 months of waiting... I mean they’ve been separated before for even longer periods of time, but they always knew that they’d be back together. This time they didn’t know. BUT AREHAHRGE ALL THE PAIN AND SUFFERING WAS SO WORTHIT WHEN THEY ALL FINALLY REUNITED T - T!!!!!! UWAHHWHAHWUAAGGHA!!! AND SEEING ALL THEIR ALLIES AND FRIENDS THEYVE MADE JUST CHEER AND CRY WHEN THEY HEAR THE NEWS!!!! I WOULD CHUCK ALL THE PANELS HERE IF I COULD BUT ID JUS T REACH THE IMAGE LIMIT BECAUSE ALL OF THEM MADE ME CRY ; - ;!!! Literally just read those 5 chapters in the arc finale cause,,,, man so good T - T

Anyways TLDR: The post-series luffy seperation arc is NOT BAD and you guys are JUST COWARDS AND LIARS!!!!

#tw unreality #post-series #one piece #op fanart #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #zolu #nami #usopp #straw hat pirates #gear 5 luffy #op spoilers #one piece spoilers #wano spoilers #please dni if ur a post-series one piece hater >:(#this is a post-series POSITIVE post only!!! Feel free to gush about other post-series arcs that you like on this post :D!!!#(for that person i scared: i put tw unreality higher just 4 u :3)

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shantechni · 1 year ago

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I know I've mentioned this at least twice now, but I frequently think back to Leo and Raph's minor spat right after Tiger Claw disappeared into the night with Karai.

Everytime they argued about Karai, Raph would boldly express his thoughts with a mix of cynicism and vexation that was clear as day in the way he spoke. Along with that came his choice of words ranging from him calling Leo crazy for even considering the idea of trusting Karai, to walking up to Karai herself and overtly voicing his suspicion of her. Enemy of My Enemy though was a slight deviation from his usual treatment of the situation when he, for once, remains silent about Leo agreeing to a truce with her.

Even when she tells them Shredder is her father, Raph's usual exasperation and annoyance with Leo is considerably toned down and he's rather tame when proclaiming there's no chance of her ever being on their side with Shredder being such a prominent figure in her life.

This moment after Tiger Claw's departure though is much more unique because of the look of disappointment he wears, and a significant portion of it is being directed towards the leader this time.

The team always had a chance of facing the consequences of Leo's resilient faith in Karai joining their side, and Raph's apprehension for such an occurrence is perfectly reasonable because Leo could blindly lead them into a worst case scenario. But he watched that possibility come to fruition this time and he sees that Leo still wants to chase after Karai when Mikey is out cold; it feels as though Leo hadn't learned anything from what happened in The Alien Agenda.

Raph doesn't even sound ready to burst someone's eardrums or rant about Karai being untrustworthy like usual. He just sounds done and the tone of finality he used is so jarring in a way.

It's no wonder that he didn't want to deal with Karai despite how upset Splinter was in The Legend of the Kuro Kabuto. Heck, his line of thinking was awfully similar to Splinter's; they were both willing to cut ties with Karai so long as it meant they didn't lose what they had.

Of course he eventually comes around when its revealed that Shredder has Karai locked away in his dungeons, but you get it

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izzabela · 7 months ago

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Buldak Nightmare - MK1 (2023) Roster x male!reader (scenario fic)

in which your spice tolerance is way above everyone else

a/n: i recently bought a pack of buldak... so iykyk

ship[s]: friendSHIP (get it?)

warning(s): sindel ain't dead hoes, slight character deviations, def. using my own headcanons for some characters

Earthrealm (human reader)

Raiden & Kung Lao

- you're eating with him and Kung Lao after a hard training session with new initiates at the Wu Shi

- to save money, you offer to cook ramyeon for them, an obsession of yours you want to put them on

- in front of them lay bowls of semi-orange ramyeon, with sprinkles of cabbage, green onion, and other stuff that came from the pack

- you tell them "enjoy!" and immediately stuff your face silly with the food

- as much as both loved food, especially Kung Lao, they were nervous. Kung Lao took a whiff and noted the pungent spicy aroma, to which Raiden agreed. However, they didn't want to waste your efforts, so they dove in head first. Kung Lao took a hearty bite while Raiden took the safer route

- regardless, both men are wide-eyed and choking, gasping for air, water, and their souls as the spice hits their tongues

- poor Kung Lao, snot coming out of his nose and the entirety of his face red. Raiden is straight up crying, but he offers a weak smile to make up for his position

- you stop eating and try to help them, but you're sitting idly as they say they can handle it. they take their sweet time, drinking water mid bites and breathing quickly- any strategy to try and make the spiciness go away

- after they're done eating, Raiden's back slouches against the chair, while his best friend is hunched over the table. their faces are red, and remnants of their "episodes" linger: dried tear stains, tissues all over the table and floor, and empty cups signify their victory

- they'll eat this again, for sure, just a little later... in the next century when the tournament happens again

Johnny Cage:

- he's definitely nervous

- he's white, so of course his bland tastebuds couldn't handle the heat

- he looks at you with his signature, flashy smile, but you can see the way his eyes dart left and right, away from the bowl

- he came from a poor town, so poor that even Maruchan noodles were a luxury to him. Stardom allowed him access to all sorts of services and foods, but this was put of his professional scope. His ego wouldn't let him lose to you though, so he tried to match your pace and shoved an equal amount of noodles in his mouth

- at first bite, he's down for the count

- your favorite token white boy is legit howling in pain over the spiciness of the buldak

- "I thought you said you had this before?" you asked.

- he's blowing his nose over how spicy the noodles are, "I went to Korea... once!" he annunciates with his pointer finger in the air

- still, his pride won't take the loss, so he does his best to finish it all through tears and pathetic male hiccups

- he accidentally got some on his hand, and he rubs his eyes which practically sends him into a seizure

- when he's back in the real world, he pushes his bowl to you as he watches you down the spicy nuke of food down with a joyful smile

- as much as he values your friendship, he will not be doing this again

Kenshi Takahashi:

- while he doesn't show it, he loves his friends. So much so he'd put himself in a position like this to make you happy, even if he hates spicy noodles

- he definitely would stick to how normal instant ramen is: simple, savory, and safe, and not the abomination that you placed in front of him. Though he no longer can view colors, the smell is what begins his growing fear. An artificial, spicy, and a unique smell entered his nose, and he remembers a brief memory

- he remembers going to South Korea once, for business of course, but he never got to try the food due to his mission at the time. Of course you had to put him on it, and he was slowly beginning to regret it

- "Are you sure this is safe?" he said, his brows upturned as his red bandana covers his marred eyes. You look at him with concern, "Safe? Korean food is as safe as it gets!"

- he doesn't want to make you sad though. He watches you carefully, his teal vision showing you slurping the food with a bright smile on your chiseled face. Quickly, he slurps up the food to get over it quickly

- no, dearest reader, he doesn't get it over with until a whole three hours later

- his diet was strict, ex-yakuza habits still going strong, but it's also due to him being a special agent for the OIA and an Earthrealm champion

- because he no longer has eyes, he simply sweats, shouts, and swears- a lot. he does it so much the police were called on you both for fear of "abuse" (it was abuse if his mouth)

- at the end of the night, you felt so bad that you did the dishes and cleaned up his kitchen, but he says he had a great evening.

- "Just... choose a different brand," he said with a lopsided smirk

Ashrah:

- she's eager to try new things, since being able to leave the Netherrealm, and this was no exception

- you knew she had history with heat, being from the Netherrealm and such, but you didn't know if that applied to food. When you mentioned to Ashrah about your favorite spicy ramyeon, she was curious and down to try it. So, with the monks permission, you were allowed to cook in the kitchen and prepare the lovely dinner you promised your friend

- in the dormitories of the Wu Shi Academy, you both slurped up the noodles with ease and joy

- "Seems you enjoy the burn," you remark, her cheeks full of ramyeon as she stops mid-chew

- she covers her mouth, "I am no stranger to the heat, my dearest friend," she said simply as she took more noodles in

- Ashrah takes momentary breaks, though, in order to actually digest the food. As she finished her food, she also took small sips of water, said it was to "help her digest quickly". You believed her, though

- as she said, her goal to purify herself makes her human, but she was still exploring what "being human" really meant

- when you're both done, she smiles happily and thanks you for going to such lengths to befriend her

- "We have to get Sareena to try!" you exclaim, though Ashrah looks a bit hesitant

- a conversation for another time perhaps

Syzoth:

- he legit cannot stomach any form of human food, but that doesn't mean he's off the hook from your cooking

- being the Empress's Emissary meant great benefits, and access to the palace was one of them

- he invited you under the friendly (and watchful) eyes of Mileena, Tanya, and Kitana, so he could eat with you

- "What... is that?" he questions, "The ominously deep red sauce..."

- you smile, offering it to him. He says yes mistakenly, and you smother it all over his fried bugs galore

- he takes a relatively small bite, but it's not enough to keep him from throwing up and howling in pain.

- the three women were on high alert, ready to apprehend you, but he musters out a "no" to stop them

- you're by his side as he vomits his famous green goo, plus the remnants of the bugs he ate

- after getting him to a healer and medic, you get an earful from Empress Mileena and her sister, and Syzoth tries his best to stop them

- even after all that, he still wants to eat with you (just, not your food)

Kuai Liang & Tomas (plus Harumi & Hanzo):

- he, Harumi, Hanzo, and Tomas all sit together in the compound's eating area, the bowl of ramyeon in their hands

- you tell them to dig in, and you immediately slurp the unfathomably spicy noodles up with ease

- Tomas and Hanzo follow suit, but their confidence is cut short when the burning pain of the artificial spice hits their vanilla tongues

- Tomas was from the Czech Republic, so spice like this was unheard of. His European genes were getting the better of him, and it's evident through how much smoke is being emitted off his body

- Kuai is hesitant, but Harumi's soft voice pulls him through, "Together on three?"

- he and his wife eat it at the same time, and they are met with the same fate

- due to his own magic, Kuai's body becomes exceedingly temperate as the effects of the spice get to him. He's sweating profusely, and the metal chopsticks in his hand begin to warm

- poor Harumi, though, she's completely sprawled out on the tatami floor, fanning her mouth and kicking her legs in the air

- they don't even bother finishing their plates, which prompts you to eat more and finish for the rest of them

- both brothers are embarrassed, ashamed that you wasted your time for "men who couldn't even honor their word" (Kuai Liang's words), but you don't mind

- you simply ask, "next time?" and they look at each other nervously, Tomas's brows crinkling with anxiety

- "Of course," Kuai Liang says, "Why ever not?"

- you were gonna hold them to it, and Kuai Liang's conscious slaps him for that

Bi Han (plus Cyrax & Sektor):

- Bi Han knows your games, but he was certainly not expecting this

- after a mission in South Korea, you offered your culinary expertise to make some ramen, well, "ramyeon" for him, Cyrax, and Sektor. You had gotten it from a convenience store in the country, wanting to take a souvenir from the beautiful nation

- being part of his inner circle, he let you work your magic and cook up the ramyeon for him and friends. The kitchen was in close proximity to the office you all were going to eat in, and immediately all three men were worried when the smell of the food came to assault their noses. Bi Han especially, his worried face including an obviously upturned eyebrow

- when you bring out the huge pot of ramyeon, all of the men were even more appalled by the look of the food. brightly colored orange, it was clear that the spice wasn't the only thing going to kill them

- they were emboldened when they saw you put some in your bowl and eat it happily, but they weren't aware of your inhumane spice tolerance. Cyrax and Sektor ate some rather confidently, while Bi Han slurped up a max of five noodles.

- the poor men were losing their minds: Cyrax downing the tea prepped by one of the handmaidens of the palace compound, Sektor's head down on the table as he tried to compose himself, and Bi Han trying to keep his cryo magic under control

- Bi Han knew it could become out of hand, so he ran from the table in record time, also leaving a trail of ice. You noted that the man's chopsticks were covered in jagged crystals of ice, and his seat was covered in a layer of frost

- you stop eating and try to help your comrades, but they insist they thug this one out. Unfortunately, Cyrax taps out and heads to the kitchen for water, while Sektor pushes his bowl back with a sad smile on his face. You immediately clean up the food, trying to keep the mood up by making jokes on how they performed well and survived

- Bi Han comes back finally, but his hair slightly glossy as some strands stick to his face and forehead. He brushes it off, saying he got some snow on him, but you knew better. Still, you do not press further as you continue cleaning up, however he also comes to your side to help.

- "No more of this," he huffs out his order, "Effective immediately."

- you sigh sadly, not wanting to anger your Grandmaster anymore

Liu Kang & Geras:

- The Fire God was no stranger to heat, he literally commanded it. Your food, though, was on his mind as you presented it to him and Geras

- You were talking with Liu Kang as you strolled the grounds of the Fire Temple. He mentioned something about wanting to eat noodles, so you offered your skills to him. He accepted, of course, wanting to see his dear friend's capabilities

- so much so he even brought Geras in from the Hourglass

- as much as Geras says he does not interact with mortals, he finds your friendship his own personal fixed point in time. He does not mind you talking to him, you also found his sand manipulation fascinating, and he appreciated it greatly by making many a sand sculptures

- you presented the bowls to your friends and told them to dig in. You sat down at the table with them and stuffed your face silly, happily humming as you ate the noodles with eagerness.

- Liu Kang always does his best to keep his facial expressions to a minimum, as humility was his greatest strength. As much as the spice was getting to him, he still kept his composure as he spoke about the interesting flavors

- "I did not realize that much time had passed," he said calmly, drinking his water, "The people of the past would certainly be left awestruck at the creativity of humanity."

- Unsurprising to you, Geras kept eating the food with a straight face. You expected this much from him, being a "fixed" point in time and all, but did it really not illicit any reaction... at all?

- Geras speaks, as if hearing your inner thoughts, "I must admit, there is something peculiar in this food."

- everyone finished without a scream, worry, nor sweat. although, Liu Kang was drinking just a bit more water than usual. when you mentioned wanting to eat again with them, they both smile softly.

- "What are friends for?" Liu Kang said

Outworld (Outworlder reader)

Sindel & Li Mei

- as a dear friend to the crown, Sindel cherished you greatly. So much so that she saw you as the son she never had. Li Mei did as well. She did, after all, train Sindel's daughters, so you were but a child in her vision

- according to Sindel, you also could make a good sovereign if you married one of her daughters (you vehemently declined multiple times)

- tonight, Sindel invited you and Li Mei to the palace to catch up. Sindel also wanted to put your kitchen skills to the test, since she had remembered you mentioning you're a decent chef. She also invited Li Mei, just wanting to catch up with her as well

- the older Outworld women were sitting in the more intimate dining area of the palace, a simple round table with four seats surrounding it. As you finished up the food, the smell of the intoxicating artificial ramen invaded their noses

- "A rather interesting aroma," Sindel noted, "What exactly is it?"

- you shrugged, "A gift from the Earthrealm actor," sitting down across from your friends, "He said that it was a commoner's meal, and I was curious. Besides, he said it had a kick."

- you noted their silent reservations, the older women watching you eat it first. Your eyes are wide with joy, and you keep slurping the noodles Johnny gifted you.

- trusting your joy, they also ate the noodles with the preconceived notion they would also enjoy it. However, both women stood up in horror at the flavors of the food. Orange in appearance, they were under the assumption that it was just the color of the noodles. They were sorely mistaken, though, as the spices choked their airways closed from any air

- your mother-figure was holding her mouth with her hand, elegantly holding the food in as she waved for an Umgadi warrior to take her to the bathroom

- Li Mei was alone in her suffering, clutching to the end of the table as she coughed and hacked, haggardly breathing for oxygen

- you stopped eating as quick as lightning flashed, getting up to help your friends. Wrapping the food, you grabbed water from the kitchen to try and soothe Li Mei's pain, but it didn't do much

- by the time her episode had ended, Sindel came back looking as regal as she did before, as if she didn't feel the effects of the ramyeon (her lips were slightly red, though)

- she announces, "That actor is lucky he is under Lord Liu Kang's protection...."

Kitana & Mileena (ft. Khameleon)

- the sisters looked amongst themselves before they looked back at the hideously orange noodles. Khameleon is also present, face nonchalant as she does her best to do her job

- it's midnight in the luxurious hotel Johnny had set you three up in for the princesses Earthrealm visit. It was sanctioned by Empress Sindel that her daughters build rapport with Lord Liu Kang, plus experience the beautiful world. You were brought along too, since Kitana and Mileena asked for your presence.

- "how did you come across such a delicacy?" Mileena questioned, her sister also with a quizzical brow

- you were introduced to the spicy delicacy on your own trip to this part of the universe by Johnny himself, and ever since then you had stocked up on the food so you'd have enough back in the empire. now that you were back in Earthrealm, it was a good opportunity to stock some more in your pantry and introduce your friends to it

- you shrugged, "Johnny introduced me to it. I think you guys will like it!" you said enthusiastically, digging in your own bowl

- the twin princesses look at each other one more time before nodding, digging into the bowl just as you had done. Unfortunately, they underestimated the spice that was emitted from the noodles

- Kitana's eyes widened, mimicking her mother as she tried to hold the food in her mouth. Tears lined her eyes as she began fanning her face with her hands. Realizing it wasn't enough, she took her real fans out and fanned herself aggressively to relieve her pain

- Mileena, on the other hand, had completely let herself get consumed peppery noodle. Choking, gasping for air, her Tarkat disease got the best of her as her jaw unhinged and large fangs protruded from her mouth

- Tanya was unavailable for this visit, so Khameleon was in charge of administering the medicine for Mileena. Before she could do so, though, Mileena has a couple of words for you

- "Before I kill that pompous actor," she breathed, "You're head will be on a stake!" she lunged at you, but the medicine was administered just in time

- when you four get back to the Empire, Sindel scolds you for putting her daughter in a precarious situation

- but it didn't live up to the fact Mileena was down on her knees begging for your forgiveness

Tanya:

- in a very rare instance, Tanya had a day of rest from the Umgadi and her responsibilities

- also, in a rare instance, she asked you to cook for her the same food that got you in trouble with the empress and her daughters (yes, of course she heard about that incident)

- you placed the finished ramyeon bowls on the small square table in your room, the smell making her face twist in disgust

- "It's so... pungent," she said with conviction, "As if death came itself..."

- you look at her oddly, "I mean, Princess Mileena almost killed me... so I guess you aren't wrong."

- regardless, you smile and dig in, her joining after she offers a prayer to Delia and Argus. She chews slowly, her hand covering her mouth as she tries to decipher how she feels about the taste

- she's definitely feeling the heat, but she's more composed than the entire royal family. Holding the food in her mouth, she swallows her food and takes a good drink of water, offering a smile and her opinions

- "It certainly is... unique in taste, but it isn't entirely awful," she says with her rough voice, "Quite the opposite, in fact"

- you smile at her honesty, "Joy! Please keep eating, there's more in the pot."

- you two continue your meal, talking to each other about your recent life updates and plans for the upcoming days and weeks. You even ask an update on her and princess Mileena's relationship (she was under the impression she kept it well hidden)

- once you both finished, Tanya asked if she could keep the rest of it for herself and the sisters back in the Cenobium, to which you sent her off with a packed up box of it

- she would definitely eat with you again, mentioning that she'd try and get you inside the Cenobium herself

Shang Tsung:

- hiding out in Earth, you stole some food for you and Shang Tsung to eat. in a stroke of luck, you had found some cheap noodles by a convenience store, not taken in and unexpired

- both marked as traitors, war criminals, and villains, you two were on the run to avoid them at all costs, but at this point you two were starving

- as you cooked, you loved the zingy smell that the noodles emitted. Shang Tsung, on the other hand, harboring an obvious contempt

- "Why must we settle for such atrocious fodder?" the sorcerer said with distase

- "We cannot be choosy, Shang Tsung," you said, placing the bowl down on a makeshift table of cardboard boxes. You smooth your pants down and sit on the rickety plastic crates that acted as substitute chairs

- Shang Tsung looked at the food with abhorrence, but watching you chow down with joy (despite the circumstances you were both in) made him take a bite as well. Just a bit smaller, though

- no matter the size, the spice was taller than any threat he had ever faced. he kept the food in his mouth as he stood up, his fist colliding with the wall of the convenience store

- he. was. pissed.

- he tried to wash the flavor down with water, but it was no use. He bit his lip, so much so it began to bleed. You were up from the "chair" to help him, but he grabbed your thick neck with one hand and his other had his cuffed metal claws under your chin

- "Consider yourself lucky I find you useful," he whispered, his sultry voice in your ear. You gulped and nodded, taking his noodles and finishing them yourself

- he was in charge of food for an unseen amount of time as you two were on the run

Quan Chi:

- you and Quan Chi were stuck in a cave, similar to the mines he once worked in, except this time he was awaiting the food that he was promised

- on the run from the imperial army under Kitana's lead, the Umgadi, the Sun Do Police, and the champions of Earthrealm were after you two after they all found about your plots against the empire

- unable to go anywhere, you two holed up in a cave on the other side of a mountain in the desolate area of Outworld. Hungry, you decided to use some magic to heat up some food you had kept on you before you left

- the sharp, pungent smell attacked Quan Chi's nose, which made his face crinkle in pure loathing

- "This is not how I intended for things to go, my friend," his unique voice sounded annoyed as you placed a bowl in his hand

- "Seems to be an ire we both share," you say, equally displeased at the situation. Despite this, you ate the zesty noodles with ease. Quan Chi was hesitant, but ate as well

- "A most astute creation, my friend," he said rather proudly, "Pleasant, even."

- he was keeping up with your spice tolerance, casual dialogue about future plans, how to escape, and more as you both ate. Theonly taking a sip of water at the end of the meal

- by the time you both finished the food, you two were energized and ready for the next course of action

- "Delicious, my friend," he said, "Perhaps the Sisters will enjoy your skills as well."

General Shao & Reiko:

- You had just finished up making some spicy noodles for your general and his second in command. You were a talented chef within the ranks, and equally talented in kombat, but they were interested in the former trait of yours

- so, after training a new set of militants for the day, everyone was due for dinner, but you three separated and went to the general's tent for the meal. All three of you partook in light conversation ranging from potential rank upgrades, battle plans, and even family

- as you cooked, the smell began to invade their noses, with General Shao noting the smell first

- "Interesting smell," the general noted, "Reminds me of a time when I was younger."

- Reiko, though, kept his opinions more reserved, "It is rather... unique. How did you come across this?"

- You smiled, bringing their bowls to them, "The princess mentioned this to me in passing conversation. I had asked her to give me a pack to try it, and it is quite addicting."

- they look at the food in front of them, Reiko picking at the food as you and General Shao ate at the same time. You did not know your superior's lineage, but it is clear he enjoyed the heat it gave in his mouth. he's laughing whole heartedly, and his hand lands on your back with alarming force as he pats it

- Reiko takes one big hearty bite, but he's in a fit of coughs as he gasps for air and water. His face is angry, and his sweat began to wear his eye-makeup down. He groans in pain, setting down the bowl as he runs out the tent. General Shao laughs loudly, commenting on how his second could withstand taking a life versus hot food

- you two finished your bowls, and the General even split Reiko's bowl with you so you could eat more. A comfortable silence befell you two as you ate, and your heads turn to see Reiko back. His face is cleaned up, and he has glasses of water in his hands for everyone in the tent

- "Beverages," he announced gruffly, "For everyone."

- you both thank him and drank, washing down the last remnants of the flavor down your throats. General Shao praises your cooking, saying he will want more to share with the military, but Reiko stays quiet

- "Leave me out of your plans," he said politely, "I wish to partake in nothing regarding this... 'food'."

Rain:

- Rain is quiet as you place the food in front of him. he looks down to see steam rise from the orange-sauce covered noodles, slices of beef and greens on top to add some nutritional value

- he was grateful that you were in defense for his change of heart. In fact, it was enough to let him keep his assets in the empire, the only thing he couldn't do was practice magic again (the deal between the Empress and the Sorcerers Circle)

- "Eternal thanks for you," he says quietly, "It's been a while since I last had a meal with someone."

- you smile at your friend, pulling the chair out from your front to take a seat. His eyes are noticeably more tired than before, guilt and fatigue in his mind. you were the only one in Sindel's court to trust his change of heart, while the intrigue rather scorn you and him for being together- especially after he decimated an entire nation. Everyone, and you meant it, did not trust him nor his words. But, you were the only one to give him a chance

- you watch him pray, offering up to the gods before he dug in with a fork. It surprised you that he ate first, and you conclude it's the tiredness getting to him. When he finally swallows the food, though, he's wide awake

- he cries out, leaving the table and tripping on the way to the kitchen to grab water (if he activates his magic, he will be sought after by the imperial army)

- he cries out to the gods, splashing his face with water over and over and over again until his complaining ceases

- by the time he is calm, he turns to you with the most incredulous face, pointing to the bowl of black magic

- "You willingly consume such foods," he said exasperatedly, "To a degree in which you do not even feel pain?!"

- you nod, and he puts two fingers on the bridge of his nose to express his disappointment and obvious distaste

- he gives the bowl to you, stating he is full by watching you eat

- he'd rather be imprisoned than do that again

Orderrealm (Seido survivor)

Havik (ft. Darius):

- as a follower of Havik and his vision, you did his best to get close to him

- unfortunately, your inability in kombat didn't allow you to join him in the field. That didn't stop you though, and you've found great prestige in the culinary arts

- so much so that Havik and Darius wanted you to cook for them in their conquest of disorder. of course you did, immediately jumping on the opportunity to show your favorite food to him and his partner

- "Before Seido fell," you began as you placed the bowls in their hands, "This was my family's favorite dinner food."

- they looked at you sadly, Havik's contorted face trying to show concern

- "The government kept raising the prices of ingredients, so we settled for this," you take a big bite, smiling at the memories, "It's pretty good! The spice keeps you awake, and it's not all that overpowering."

- both men nod, and they take a bite after hearing your experience under the cruel government

- unfortunately, their pity for you dissipated as quickly as it came, the unbearable spice of the noodles getting to their tongues and throats

- Darius made the mistake of not chewing wholly, while Havik ate the noodles without anything to quench the pain

- Havik's face, being burned off at the jaw and mouth, didn't allow him to chew correctly, so the spice just sat there on his tongue as he writhed and yelled in pain

- "Never again!!" they yelled in unison

Vaternus (Vampire reader)

Nitara:

- you were the exception in all of Vaternus- not being able to stomach humans after becoming immortal. you still ate normal human food, especially your favorite noodles when you were still a human

- you and Nitara ate together, her devouring human flesh as you ate your spicy noodles. She eyes you curiously, a thigh in her hand as you slurped the orange noodle up

- "Odd creature you are," she said dead-panned, "Does that even sustain you?"

- you nod happily, your bowl in her face as you point to the noodles with your fork, "Mhm! You want to try?"

- she's hesitant, the smell getting to her nostrils as she turns from disgust

- "I'll pass..." she says, "The sauce, perhaps I can stomach it."

- You flash a dopey smile, taking the leftover sauce packet and coating the human body part in loads of it, before spreading it out evenly for her to enjoy the taste

- she takes a good, hard, long sniff of the sauce, before taking a fat bite out of the thigh again. She chews thoroughly, getting a feel for the taste before spitting it out in front of you

- she's got a glare on her face, her sharp features even sharper with her disgust

- "Never again, you heathen."

- she tosses the entire part away, letting it rot as she picks up a human arm, relishing in the taste as blood coats her mouth and around it

=====================

notice that nitara's is the shortest (megan fox killed her)

anyways, buldak is not for the weak. i cried so much eating half of my bowl, my dad ate the rest without breaking a sweat

also, i've got a trip this saturday to california! i'm meetin my boyfriend's family, so the requests might be slow, but i'll get to it asap!

that's all! i'll see y'all in the next fic!

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my coffee?- bucky barnes

~ bucky barnes x fem!reader ~tags/cw: fluff, established friendships/budding romance, set in CA:CW timeline where Bucky is in Romania trying to piece back together his life, mixed POV, divination (coffee reading) slight sexual themes, reader is helping bucky try to find some sense of normalcy within his life, human reader, bucky is a lil lovesick loser, lil old world slavic witchy magic, ~ wc: 1.3k ~ not proofread "Do you want me to read your coffee?" Bucky tilts his head. "My coffee?"

Rain pelts the window as a summer storm rolls over the city.

It had come in quick, the thunder starting only ten minutes before the sky opened and unleashed chaos upon the unprepared populous. You had been halfway home, plastic bags swinging at your side full of groceries as the sky groaned, flashes of lighting backlighting the mountains as you took in the darkness of the clouds building. Your steps hurried, smelling rain on the warm breeze, knowing you only had minutes to reach home.

The heaviness of the bags slows you down, plastic digging into your fingers painfully enough to warrant a reshuffle of the load. Water begins to splatter the cobblestones around you, hitting the earth with soft plinks, and you start to rush, moving items from one bag to another in an effort to distribute the weight evenly, but just as quickly as the rain began, the cold drops sliding down your exposed back stop. You look up from your work, feeling a presence hover above you and are greeted by a smiling Bucky. He stands over you, your pink umbrella held high over your head, and you stare up at him, dumbfounded.

"What are you- How did you…?" the question comes out in jumbled words as he bends to lift the bags.

His smile is one of ease, mischief lurking behind blue eyes at your blatant surprise.

"I heard the thunder and realised you didn't take your umbrella, so I came looking for you," he shrugs as though it were the most casual explanation in the world.

"You came looking for me?"

"I know the route you take, and you were either walking home or still shopping." The plastic bags are strung over his left arm, and he extends the right one, holding a space for you to loop yours through his.

"You came looking for me." you can't help the smile that spreads across your face as you link limbs.

"Of course." the way he smiles has your heart stuttering in your chest.

Bucky begins to walk, setting the pace as you hurry to reach proper shelter. The rain gets heavier with each passing second. You try to suppress the grin, your teeth digging into your bottom lip, but it remains, cheeks aching and burning at his thoughtfulness.

—-

"Do you want me to read your coffee?" you ask excitedly as he drinks the last of the brewed drink, setting the small cup back into the saucer.

Bucky tilts his head. "My coffee?"

You nod, a wordless answer as you scooch closer to him, hands reaching for the porcelain. His watchful gaze follows you, eyes following the lines of your body as you bend forward, dressed in only your pyjama shorts and oversized t-shirt, and he in a black shirt and sweatpants. There is a comfortability between the two of you, the knowledge of who he is, and it has been long established that he no longer has to hide his mental appendage. His heart aches at that. How you had accepted him for all he had done, knowing who and what he was.

Your bare leg brushing against his left arm has his thoughts deviating from the warmth that fills his chest at your kindness to a different kind of warmth blooming deeper. The rain had been both a blessing and a curse as it soaked you both through regardless of the umbrella he had bought. It had started coming down at an angle, and there was no way he could fight against it as you ran. By the time you crossed the threshold into the lobby, your entire body was drenched, clothes sticking to you in a way that held nothing for the imagination, and Bucky had to look away, turning his attention to the bags full of rain splattered groceries. That familiar heat returned to his stomach and only intensified as you began to climb the stairs, taking them two at a time before him, reaching the apartment in record time. He had kept his gaze averted as you tried to unpack the shopping, water dripping from your fingers while you dug through bags, but Bucky pushed you away. His hands gripping your shoulders, he steered you towards the bathroom, instructing you to get out of the wet clothes in fear of catching a cold, something he had heard you mutter to him a thousand times over the first time he had turned up at your door soaking wet from the rain. With the door slammed shut, he had a moment to breathe. To try and address the feeling in his stomach that had begun to pool into a sea of fire. To fix the issues that had started growing. Shame filled his cheeks, unable to think of you like that first and foremost, but secondly, how had such a simple and innocent image of you been enough to have his mind spiralling like that? He shakes the thought away again as he focuses back on the present.

You're holding the chipped tea cup, upturned on the plate.

"My grandma taught me this when I was younger." You explain, eyes trained on the crockery. "Apparently, she had the gift."

"The gift?" Bucky queries.

"Yeah, the gift. Sight. Knowledge, you know?" you wiggle the fingers of your free hand as though casting a spell.

"So, like a witch?"

"Basically."

Bucky hums, watching as you flip the cup over and smile, whispering words as though they were an incantation. His attention is rapt as you twist and turn the mug, eyes narrowing at shapes he cannot see.

"Oh, ova e odličen znak." the foreign words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them.

"It's a good sign?" Bucky is quick to answer in english, suddenly very eager in his fortune regardless of how silly he thinks this is.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "How did you-"

"I speak Russian, remember?" he leans in and flicks your forehead with his right hand.

"But that wasn't Russian." you rub at the spot is fingers had just hit but it doesn’t hurt.

"Close enough." he shrugs, inching closer to get a look into the cup. Your shampoo fills his nose, the lavender scent soothing something within him.

"Okay, okay." you brush off the questions that begin to rise within you. "Let's see."

You examine the cup further, turning it over to Bucky, and you point out shapes and figures made in the rivers of coffee. He sees nothing but blobs of brown but nods along anyway, enjoying how you feel as you lean further into him. His heart begins to race, his ribs not used to the pace it sets.

"You are going to live a good, long life, Mr. Barnes." you finally announce, handing the cup to him.

"Anything else?" fingers brush over yours, sending shivers across his skin.

"There was a cat and a house." You think for a moment, and he worries that the following words from your mouth won't be so happy. "Something about a girl and a kid."

"A girl?" his mouth quirks up. "Like a wife?"

The answer is a nod and a soft smile.

"You're lying!" the accusation comes out a little louder than he intended but is followed by a laugh as he shoves the cup back in your hands.

"I am not!" you shriek back, turning the mug back around, finger-pointing to the most prominent smudge at the bottom. "See, a pregnant woman!"

Utter bullshit. It is a clump of coffee grounds.

But he doesn't say that, doesn't dismiss the happy future you had almost entirely made up. Instead, he looks at you, his lip worried between his teeth. "Nothing about…before?"

"Nope." With a shake of your head, you put his mind at ease. "As far as the cup is concerned, there was never a before." Soft fingers push his hair back behind his ear, curling around the edge of his jaw. Bucky leans into your touch, his body relaxing as your thumb begins to stroke soothing lines across his cheek.

Bucky knows you're lying. There will always be a before with him, and until you, he rarely thought there would be an after, but right now, with your strange and probably very untrue predictions, he cannot stop himself from wishing it would come true.

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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

Text

iii. build me furniture

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter three of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

chapter warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. illusions to smut. frankie builds you furniture, and like that deffo needs a warning.

an: thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for letting me bother you countless times about this.

wordcount: 3.7k

He knows he should check the calendar, but he doesn't.

Frankie, instead, throws his hat on the seat, phone into the cup holder, and shoves the key into the ignition before sparking his vehicle to life. Waiting, and waiting, until he hears the distinct beep of his phone connecting before his finger is seeking your name on the dash, pulling out of the car park.

The dial tone echoes through the bed of his vehicle. The silence between each allowing the sound of tyres crunching the road to fill his ears until your voice soon plugs the quiet.

It’s heavenly, all sweet, layered ever so slightly by an edge of sarcasm—What do you want, Morales?

After some back and forth, a slight deviation in his journey, you’re buckling yourself in beside him. His hat in your lap, your perfume filling the car as he pulls away from the front of your house.

He hopes it soaks into the fabric—clings to the interior of his car. A thought, he suspects he shouldn’t have, but allows to swirl and twirl in his mind all the same.

“Bit spontaneous of you, Mr Calendar.”

Shifting in his seat, he checks the mirrors, watching from the corner of his eye as you did your usual. It starts with checking his glovebox, for what—he’s never quite sure—to closing the vents, to fiddling with the station or volume of his radio.

If it were anyone else, he’d kick up a fuss. But, not you—never you.

“I can’t believe you was gonna ask someone else to take you to IKEA.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat—eyes doing that thing. Where they warm him, sizzle his skin under his clothes. “I wasn’t asking anyone, I was asking Will.”

“Still.”

“I thought you were busy. Your calendar was blocked out.”

“So, you’d have asked me first if I was free?”

It leaves his tongue teasingly, and a part of him means it as such. But another, a darker-tinged part—one forever covered in shade, where things fester, and happiness has wilted—means for it to be tainted with bitterness. The embers of jealousy brimming, licking, nipping at the words as they filter out into the air.

“You’re my best friend, Frank. Of course, I’d rather go pick out an entryway table with you.”

“Good job my day opened up then, isn’t it?”

You only hum. It being followed by a smooth, almost comforting silence that falls across the vehicle as he drives. His elbow leaning on the door, fingernails tapping against the window to the beat of a song which thrums through him.

He can’t help it, but his eyes flit back to you—finding you staring out the window, lips moving, whispering along to the words of whatever song filled the truck.

And he shouldn’t think it—shouldn’t even entertain the thought—but fuck you are something.

His hand gripping the steering wheel as the thought undoes itself, it opening itself up within his chest, releasing butterflies and confetti that, in time, will fall absently to the base of his stomach. Because—

“I don’t want anything too big,” you announce suddenly. Your head turns, rolling on the seat as you lift your leg up, present, but eyes unfocusing as you think. “Just near the wall, where the chest currently is—think it’ll look nice.”

Swallowing, he nods. “It will.”

He’s not sure what to do with the way you smile. The way you beam. Illuminating the world on what is already a nice sunny day, adding something extra to it. So, he does nothing. Letting the vehicle fall into silence again. Your foot occasionally taps the floor, muttering lyrics as he lightly thuds his fingers against the roof until he enters the parking lot, hunting for a space.

Frankie has been here countless times.

For his place, for yours—for ex-partners who over-romanticised a trip here. But, it was furniture. A warehouse full of pre-arranged rooms and ideas, accessories flowing out of bins and plants swirling around light fixtures in a zone they try to make look close to a jungle.

“You know what you’re looking for?” he asks, walking in step with you.

Shaking your head, you nudge him with your elbow. “Good job your day opened up, right?”

Nudging you back, he turns on the spot—facing you, walking backwards. “Shotgun pushing the trolley.”

“You’re such a big fucking kid, Morales.”

And, he’d let his cheeks burn under your words, but he sees the look on your face. The unfiltered delight, how it glides from you and lands straight in the centre of his chest.

He’d scribbled the aisle number on the piece of paper three zones previous.

Your fingers had been running over the display table—a little smile etching itself across your cheek as he flicked up the paper, writing the information he needed.

“The pencil looks tiny in your hand.”

Smirking, he stuck it behind his ear before poking your side. “It’s a tiny pencil.”

When you look at him, you’re smirking—a thought running, all restless in your mind. He can tell. Can practically hear your mischievous wheels turning in your brain.

“We done?”

“Nope.”

The ‘P’ pops intentionally, your body turning to face him, hand on the base of the cart—walking backwards, an unreadable smile spreading out over the place your smirk had just lived.

“Need candles, plants—and I would really love your opinion on a new throw cushion.”

“Fuck. Maybe I should have let Will bring you,” he grins, nudging the cart into your side as you laugh sarcastically.

If he was honest with himself, Frankie knows he’d spend all day in here with you. Get to play house in your two’s weird, twisted way.

Because he'd liked it earlier when you called him to come and look at a display kitchen, hand pretending to fry the plastic eggs in the pan as you tell him to check the fridge for OJ. From the twinkle in your eye, you liked it when he called you honey and asked if you wanted to watch the sports channel with him—you hovering in the doorway of the display living area, shaking your head.

If anything, though, it made the knot in his stomach tighten.

The one that’s been loosening and binding since the moment in your kitchen, the moment in his, the bedroom and your sofa.

“Frankie, c’mere.”

Pushing the trolley, he finds you—of course—in a sea of shelves filled with candles. Various shades, an array of scents, some more overwhelming than others, as you lift a left and then a right to your nose, before jutting your head.

“Smell this.”

Lifting the candle to his nose, he inhales, watching you—before his face scrunches, yanking his head back as you burst into laughter. It flows out from your throat to your eyes, nose scrunching, hand clasping his forearm as you lean into him, muttering in half-breaths and laughing that it’s awful, right?

The scent is, but the moment isn’t.

Composure sets in, wiping the joy from your face gradually as you place another back. His hand finding one, a white pot—simple, plain, glass. Lifting it to his nose, he’s immediately transported to your place. A candle he smells so often, it unlocks a host of memories that suddenly balloon inside of him—pulling a smile across his lips, before he tilts it to your face, watching your fingers wrap around his wrist, gently, softly.

“This is the one you usually buy, right?”

Flicking from the candle to him, he almost loses his breath. More so when you let a different smile grace your lips, one that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Y-yeah. It’s my favourite.”

Nodding, he forces a swallow, before he puts it in the bag inside the trolley—your brow arching, smile fading. “It’s mine too.”

“You burn candles?”

Smirking, he tilts his head, he grabs another, and another. “What? I don’t strike you as someone who burns candles?”

“No, Morales. You seem like someone who’d accidentally burn their house down.”

“Yeah, maybe. But, maybe I can buy these and keep them at yours.”

If you’re conflicted, you don’t show it. Staring for a second, and another, until you shrug. Something there, desperate to glide over your cheeks, but he knows whatever it is, it’s forced back. He can tell.

It’s a thing he’s about to point out and poke fun at you for—especially when the two of you haven’t stopped staring. Focused. Entirely too much, if the next second is anything to go by. Because you clear your throat, avert your eyes, turning—rather quickly—not seeing it, the other shopper’s trolley full of poorly stacked packages.

And it’s instinct, he thinks. Tells himself.

The way his mouth curls around your name, but his arm is already reaching out. Fingers first, then palm, until he’s wrapping his forearm around your waist and pulling, twisting you into him. His other hand all quick to follow his movements, grasping your shoulder with the other until your body is flush with his—head, avoiding the other person’s trolley full of long boxes.

Your gasp hits his ears, as your eyes land on him.

They’re wide, wild—painted in surprise, fright and amazement. Your pupils having swallowed all the colour—until you blink, and he realises his chest is falling and rising in tandem with yours.

“Should look where you’re going, querida.”

If at all possible, your eyes widen. His fingers release your shoulder, hovering, half-tempted to brush his knuckles against your cheek—but he drops them to his side.

Even if all he thinks is: this is nice—holding you this close.

It pulsating within him, until he lets go. Watching you step back—eyes still on him, all unreadable and surprised.

“We should…”

“Yeah. Let’s,” he replies, quickly.

Pushing the trolley in the direction you’re heading, feeling his cheeks burn, his ears following not that long behind.

Fuck he looks good.

Your mouth goes dry for the billionth time in the last five minutes. Having already found yourself needing the reminder that you have a glass in your hand—even more so when he looks up at you from his place knelt on the floor.

The two of you had chosen to also buy a set of drawers to match—ones that would fit in the corner, and store the six thousand candles you own. As though he hadn’t played a part in why that amount had grown.

“You listenin’ to me?”

Not at all. “Hmm?”

“Where’s the toolbox I made up for you?”

It’s easy to let your face fall into a two-step. For your brow to arch as his question pulls it, and your lips slide into your cheek. “Wherever you left it when you made it me.”

Your name falls from his lips—satiny, yet laced with disappointment—as he slowly gets up, leaving his spread-out instructions, many screws, and bits and bobs he’d laid out before he could even attempt to build it.

Frankie has always been more sensible—more structured. You’d witnessed him build things before, always following the same pattern, the same checks he’d do—to the point you wonder if he has an order when he flies. Whether he has a to-do list in his head he has to run through, one that doesn’t beat to the same drum as what is needed, but rather a curated one by him, just for him.

By the time he’s back, you’ve downed half your glass, finding—like the last—it does nothing to quench you. Not in the way you’d hoped, least of all when he removes his hat, throws it to the sofa, and you see the dampened edges of his curls.

Your brain betrays you. Reminding you—in vivid shades and high-definition, how you’d liked the feel of them in your hand. How he’d like them tugged, pulled when he was deep, his thumbs digging bruises into the back of your thighs—your hand all desperate for leverage, for something. You’d liked the home they found in his head, earning yourself the trophy of a groan that shot sparks through your already overstimulated body.

Blinking, you shake your head.

Trying to think of something, anything—

“I need to ask you something.”

His eyes lift, fixing on you as he kneels back down—all vast brown landing on you, coating you, smothering you in warmth that only he ever can.

“I’m starving, Frankie. Please, can I order us food?”

It takes a second, two at most. His face shifts into a frown before it smooths out, realisation dawning, crashing out over him.

“To say thank you,” you add, fluttering your eyelashes, face smooth.

Sighing, he licks his lips. “I’ll let you order, if you can keep your hands to yourself.”

Rolling your eyes, you move from the floor. “Yes, Morales. Because cheese dripping down your chin really does it for me.”

Grinning, he wipes the back of his hand against his forehead. “I don’t know your kinks.”

Competency, you quickly think—almost hum it. Especially when he slides another wooden leg into place—not even glancing at the instructions this time. You, your brain follows up with, immediately banishing, forcing it away, storing it in some box marked do not ever fucking open.

His grunts as he builds being added to the same box as you order the food. They’re all punchy, low—and it sparks memories which shouldn’t be present when you’re ordering food.

Not if you want to keep a level head, because you’re not entirely sure what playing field the two of you are on tonight. Prior to today, it’s all been planned—blocked out in both calendars, clear, rooted in the rules the two of you had laid.

The boundaries all spelt out.

But this, today and tonight, is now two people—two friends—who are moving to the beat of their own drum. The same two who hung out like this before the entanglement had begun, and while you know this, something else whispers around the logic.

It isn’t drowned out when you’ve ordered, or when you’re hanging in the open doorway—watching him, ogling him, basking in how normal it is that he’s here.

“Can I build something?”

Smirking, he leans back on his knees. “You can build a drawer.”

“Because they’re the most important part?”

He smirks wider, more teeth—a flicker in his eyes.

Because you know why he’s left you with drawers. Your earlier mishaps with furniture building had set a rule that you should be nowhere near a hammer, nails or flat-pack furniture—especially if you wanted it to be usable.

“Or, you can pass me the bits I need,” he offers.

Simpler, you swear you hear him think.

So you do. You pass each tool, each fixing. Watching in awe as he slowly ignores the paper, not even bothering to turn the pages as the thing slowly becomes an entryway table—a thing which you can store and put things on.

In the time he builds, your face aches from smiling, and your stomach hurts from lack of food and laughter. So much so, you don’t realise the time until the pizza arrives—him standing, all but trying to force money into your hand until you kick him in the shin.

By the time the two of you are back on the floor, the box open, scent immediately filling your home, he’s still complaining.

“Bet I have a bruise.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. Eat ya damn pizza, Morales.”

Grinning, he takes a messy bite.

And you know what you said earlier. Are distinctly aware that the thoughts you’re having are crossing all sorts of lines, even if the two of you never specified rules. Because, you want to trace your tongue over his chin, catch the sauce that’s sat there, climb into his lap, grind your lap into his—

“You’re staring.”

Blinking, you swallow. “Forgot what an animal you are when you eat.”

“You’re rude, y’know that?”

Grinning back, you take another bite. Aware of the way he’s staring now. Feeling the way it runs up and down your body, your fingers brushing against your thumb to remove the dust.

Clearing his throat, he averts his eyes. Focusing on a spot on the floor, toying with taking another bite. You’re so close to asking him why, when his mouth opens, and something falls out you don’t expect:

“You think friends build each other furniture?”

You pause because it’s unexpected. A warmth floods your cheeks when he lifts his stare back to you. Waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

Clearing your throat, you lean back, palm pressing into the floor—rooting you, keeping you stable. “Well. I was gonna ask Will, remember?”

He says nothing. Doesn’t even move to eat the last two bites of pizza in his hand.

“I think friends as good as us,” you say, needing to fill it—the silence, “can do lots of things together, and still be able to…”

“Reap the awards of unlocked benefits?”

“Exactly,” you manage to croak.

Feeling it again. The way the air thickens. Something charging, all electric, lightning and thunder.

“I meant it earlier—about asking me.”

“Your calendar is rather full, Frankie.”

Wiping his hand on the box, he shoots a smile. “Nunca estoy ocupada para ti.”

Your smile pulls itself across your face, chin dipping, ears warming. It settling, the meaning of his words, sweltering in the tension that seems to double until you ask if he’s done. Excusing yourself, mumbling about tubbing up the rest. Letting him continue, not much left anyway, he’d said. It’s why you take longer, tidying—putting things away that have lived on your counters forever.

Because this is new and foreign. All of it.

The way things are flowing inside of you, bubbles of feelings you want to ignore but find them rising up in the sea that’s suddenly ever-present and just fucking there.

“I’m done.”

Your hands spread over your kitchen counter, taking in the cold of them—the feel of them—as you let a big breath fill your chest. Whether for courage or strength, you weren’t sure. But it fuelled you to turn to face him, but not quite enough to settle the fluttering in your stomach as you walk back to him in the living room—finding him standing, admiring it.

Just like you should be.

But your eyes are on something else—someone else.

Lingering up and down. Seeing him differently, things all mixed up inside, jumbled, out of sorts.

“It looks good,” you whisper, aware your voice has dropped an octave.

Even more aware that your shoulder is close to his, a gap barely there between the two of you. And it’s hard not to stare at him. To not marvel at him. How he’s soft and muscular, firm and strong—how you’ve seen his arms flex when he’s between your thighs and when he’s building your furniture.

Licking your lips, you don’t blink when his head turns, and he meets your stare.

You don’t fight the way your eyes drop to his mouth.

Instead, you just move into it. Slanting your mouth over his, tongue brushing over his bottom lip as your fingers slide around his neck, burying themselves in his curls as you become aware that his arms are around your waist. Then, you’re kissing him hard, dizzying.

Heat, all bubbling and ferocious, grows inside of you—spreading, beginning at the base of your spine, until it’s curling up and around everything it can to lick at your throat. Every sense, nerve and thought orienteering and honed in on him. How his body feels pressed against yours, how his mouth feels on yours.

“Frankie,” you moan.

It escapes, his name passing your lips as he buries the sound with a groan of his own. But, you've opened the gate—it flung open now, more escaped syllables and letters following it.

Want you.

Wanted you all fucking day.

Think about you all the time.

Your fingers slide up the front of his t-shirt, darting the tips of them over his stomach, resting your palm against his hip as he walks you back to the wall—stability needed as his hips find yours.

Dios mío, eres tan sexy.

The words have barely washed over you, when you feel his fingers under your chin, lifting your chin, forcing you to hold his stare. Proving a chance to back out. A momentary break.

A get-out to keep the night friendly, rather than whatever the two of you now call the thing you do. But, if anything, you want—

“Bet that pencil would look real small next to your—”

“Shh,” he whispers, cutting you off.

His grin spreading, all large and not easily contained or bit back—ghosting it over yours, the tip of his nose tracing yours.

His fingers sliding further up your neck, his thumb catching your chin and the fire in his eyes almost makes you forget how to think, never mind breathe.

“Really want to fuck you on your new table.”

“You think IKEA build furniture to support how we do it?”

He ponders, you can see it. Sweeping his eyes up and down your frame. The maths running, there suddenly an array of equations in the blown pupils of his eyes as his fingers circle and swirl on your neck and hip. “If I break it, I’ll replace it.”

“You’ll be doing that forever, Morales.”

You see it bloom, his cockiness. It swallowing whatever remainders there were of the shy friend you used to know, replacing him with the cock-sure person who regularly makes your thighs shake and your brain empty.

“Building furniture gets you going, does it?”

The hand on your hip drops, finding a place along the tops of your thighs—and even through your jeans, you can already feel him. The strokes of lightening up and down your body, the way he makes you become putty.

The point is proven when he slides his hand between your thighs, a gasp escaping, easily kissed from your tongue by his lips.

“Not usually,” you whimper, his ministrations halting. “Just you building it. Apparently.”

And fuck, you swear you’re swallowed by lava, from both the look he shoots you and the way his mouth crashes back to yours.

chapter three ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #jo: iltwy #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #francisco morales smut #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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weirdkpopgirl · 10 months ago

Text

Embrace | Haechan Imagine #8

Title: Embrace

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Warnings: vague mentions of reader struggling with insomnia

Word Count: 616

Author's Note: This story was inspired by my bad habit of not going to sleep, even when I'm tired lol. It's not like I do it on purpose, but my mind just cries out for a distraction sometimes. I don't know how to explain it. Anyway if any of you can relate to this, I hope this story can give you some comfort ^ ^

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

In the quiet space of your apartment, you were sprawled out on the couch as your thumb absentmindedly scrolled through the world of social media. Every so often, your eyes subconsciously flickered to the time on the left corner of the screen, reminding you that one a.m. was now closely bordering two.

The back of your mind was screaming at you to go to sleep, thinking of all the things you were supposed to do the following day. Yet, the apprehension of not being able to fall asleep made you hesitate. The fear wasn’t large, but enough to keep you trapped in the scrolling abyss, a dance between fatigue and distraction.

Eventually, you heard the soft echoes of your boyfriend’s slippers padding against the wooden floor, drawing him closer to where you were stationed. Rubbing his eyes, he approached you with a slight frown on his lips.

“Baby, it’s late. Why are you still up?” Haechan murmured with a touch of concern in his voice.

Although he was accustomed to being awake in the odd hours due to his work, seeing you deviate from a regular sleep schedule puzzled him.

You glanced up at him with weary eyes. “Just can’t seem to quiet my mind,” you muttered with a small shrug.

Haechan sighed as he witnessed you fight back a yawn. He moved to sit beside you for a moment and gently removed your phone from your hands and set it down on the coffee table.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said, taking your hand in his. “Maybe I can help you relax.”

Reluctantly, you gave in and allowed him to guide you to the bedroom. The subtle glow of the lamp on your nightstand casted a gentle ambiance in the room. Once you were tucked under the soft comforter, Haechan settled down beside you.

“Close your eyes, baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you in a comfortable position.

His lips brushed against your temple, sending a tingling shock down your spine. The warmth of his touch prompted you to snuggle closer, your head finding the perfect spot on his chest. The echoes of his steady heartbeat were calming and the warmth of his embrace gradually melted away any troublesome thoughts that lingered within you.

You let out a heavy exhale before mumbling, “You really have a way of making everything feel okay.”

Haechan chuckled and brushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. The corners of his lips curled into a small smirk.

“Of course, you just happen to have the most caring, loving, and devastatingly handsome boyfriend,” he said, flashing you a teasing smile.

You knew he was only joking. But as his words sank in through your mind, you recognized the truth in them. The longer you were with Haechan, the more you realized that you didn’t know what you’d do without him in your life.

Instinctively, your hand drifted to cradle his face, lightly tracing over the moles adorning his cheek. Gazing into his eyes, a sense of vulnerability washed over you.

“You’re right. I do,” you quietly admitted.

Caught off guard by your serious response, Haechan’s heart ached at your simple words. This overwhelming surge of deep love and affection he had for you hit him all at once. Without holding back, he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You stayed like this for a while, before breaking away with a smile. The two of you eventually succumbed to sleep, peacefully nestled in each other’s embrace.

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

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nopanamaman · 1 year ago

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How long did it take for pafl as a whole to be written? whats your writing process like and do you have any tips? i personally struggle a bit with that sort of stuff haha and i think pafl is an awesome example of good writing

Thank you so much, I'm flattered!

It's a pretty hard question to answer haha

The actual concept for PAFL was brewing for a long while. The story and characters went through a lot of revisions over the years - all before I even made the first video in the series.

I think publicly putting the project in motion was what forced me to solidify how the story would progress and what the characters would be like.

When I just started it, the only things that were set in stone were the events of PAFL and Yura going to the Zone after Katya's capture. But by Punch it Punk, I've roughly laid out the plan for the whole rest of the story.

There have been some slight deviations since then. I have given more significance to certain secondary characters and have compeltely changed the ending. Plus, some details have - and will be - tweaked as the series goes on, because of course 19 year old me wouldn't think everything through perfectly.

Still, the general plan has stayed more or less consistent since the third song. Much more so than I expected it to lol

#Thank God I planned all of this shit ahead though #also I got two big fat articles about how the concept was developed and how a super early version PAFL was supposed to go on patreon...#If you even care...#But ya I finalised the overall story somewhere between working on false disposition and PiP #parties are for losers #asks #blog

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i-cant-sing · 1 year ago

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when are you gonna update the concubine dabi fic that you made😚 you dont even have to write the nsfw i just need to see the drama between hawks an dabi

The DRAMA is in the nsfw 😔😔😔 but I'm working on making it less NSFW and still keep the drama.

Let me give u an example of one of the scenes I plan on writing for the concubine story-

Dabi is feeling a little jealous ever since you allowed that winged whore into your harem. Obviously, Keigo had piqued your interest, and Dabi didn't like that. He never liked it when your attention deviated from him.

He made his way to your chambers. It was routine, he always came by to help you... "relieve" your stress.

But as he went to knock on your door, the guards outside blocked his way.

Dabi gave them a quizzical look. What?

"You can't go in, concubine Dabi."

"Why the hell not?" Dabi asked, slighted that the guard had the nerve to stop him.

"The Sultana is engaged with someone."

"Who?" Dabi looked at the two of them. "I said, who is she talking to?" They kept their heads bowed, the guards weren't allowed to look at the sultanas harem, especially not her favourite concubine.

The sound of your laughter came from the room, and Dabi narrowed his eyes at them again.

"You don't get to keep things from me, because if you keep things from me, I start bringing things to light. How is your mistress these days? Still pregnant like your wife is?" Dabi threatened.

The guard sighed in defeat before whispering his name.

"Concubine Keigo is in there."

"Was he summoned by the sultana?" Dabi interrogated. The guard shook his head in negative.

"No. He just walked up to us and before we could stop him, he loudly knocked on the door. The sultana asked who was there and again, he announced himself very loudly. The Sultana let him in, and he's been in there for the past 2 hours."

2 hours? And without being summoned? What kind of fucking nerve he has to think he can just barge in there?

"Announce me." He nodded at tge guard, who didn't bother arguing because he knew he would be threatened again.

Very gently, the guard knocked. The room became silent.

"Pardon the interruption, Sultana. Concubine Dabi is here." The guard called from outside.

A few more moments of silence. Then footsteps.

They weren't yours. Dabi knows.

The door opened just enough for Keigo to poke his head outside. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes half lidded, and his rosy cheeks were gracing a lustful smile.

"Uh- Dabi! How are you?" Slighted at the moment for dropping his honorific, but more jealous than ever when he caught the glimpse of his shiny, bare chest. "The Sultana says that she'll meet you later. She's a... very busy at the moment, if you know what I mean." He winked as he wiped something off his lip before licking his thumb.

Dabi remained stoic before turning around and leaving. But he knew .... he knew Keigo could see the absolute rage and jealousy that was coursing through his body.

As he was returning to his Chambers, passing by the harem, he could feel the other concubines staring at him from above, giggling among themselves and whispering something about "a new favourite" being in town.

Dabi lifted his head up, throwing one murderous glance at them was enough to have them courtesying and running away with their tails tucked between their legs.

A new favourite?

Impossible.

#yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere keigo x reader #yandere keigo #yandere keigo takami #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader

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mysticmellowlove · 1 year ago

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Yan making fem reader nervous. She is usually decently confident and she still wants to lead a relationship with him but one day when she is hanging out with him he looks at her and asks why she seems distant to him still. She then looks at him and explains that he actually makes her shy and that she doesn’t want to scare him off. And him being in awe that he makes HER SHY!?!?!?!?!?!?!

note; it's a little deviated but i like how it turned out, also my power cut off and nearly deleted the entire thing :)

warnings; yandere male, sub yan, fem reader, comfort?, fluff mostly

It didn't take long for him to notice that his girlfriend was acting differently. He was confused, everything had started off so well. They met one day for coffee and just like that he endeared himself to her but all of a sudden...

He grunted as he picked up the kettle and poured the now boiled water into the two cups he had set out for the two of them. Had she found out about him blackmailing her boss? Or maybe she figured out that he had sabotaged her friend's car so she'd be in a crash?

Had she figured out that he was the one who was stealing her underwear off the line and from her washing basket? He couldn't help himself, she just smelt so good.

His fingers twitched in nervousness, he couldn't let her go now. She was getting used to him and he was so fucking in love with her.

He picked up the cups and carried them to the lounge room where she sat on the couch. She seemed to be looking out the window at the pouring rain, a contemplative look on her face and a slight blush on her cheeks. He sighed and put the cups down before sitting next to her, his arm went to sling around her shoulder only for her to slightly flinch away from him.

"Alright, what's up? Has something changed between us?" He asked, his voice verging on desperation. She seemed shocked as she turned to look at him, her mouth dropping open.

"Of course no..." Before she could finish her sentence he cut her off as he fell from the couch and kneeled in front of her. The resounding bang of his knees hitting the floor made her jump as she looked down at him. His hands went to her knees in a bid to keep her there in front of him, he squeezed them desperately.

"Don't give me that bullshit! Please love, you've been ignoring me for the past couple of days, I promise that whatever I did I can make up for it just please don't leave me!" He pleaded with her, his hands on her knees tightened as he looked imploringly up at her face. She seemed to be frozen, her eyes similar to that of a doe as she looked at him.

"That's not.... it's..." She trailed off as delicate laughter left her mouth, soon it dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.

"I'm sorry it's just that, I think I may have been mistaken." His heart rushed at the words that left her mouth, his mind breaking down into the worst case scenario.

"I was a little intimidated." His mind stopped as his eyes widened a little. She was feeling... scared of him? His hands shook as he closed his eyes just as his head dropped. Why was she scared? Why did she feel that way? Was it something he had said? Did she know?

"I mean, you're kinda everything I could ever want." Her voice went bashful as her hands closed over his own, easing the tension in his fingers as she soothingly stroked over his knuckles.

"And I'm just... well I'm just me." She admitted as she pulled his head up, making him look her in the eyes. His heart deflated at the situation. His love, the brightest star in his sky, the most enchanting woman he had ever met... was shy? It made him want to laugh, he could imagine the hearts in his eyes at this very moment.

"That's a little weird to say and all but you're the perfect gentleman, always so kind and I just... well I really love you that's all." She laughed as if she didn't know what to do with herself. He was the same, all he could do was look into her eyes as he bit down his tongue. All he wanted to do was shout how much he loved her and how she was perfect for him because he just knew that she was.

At the moment though he needed to give her a massive hug... and maybe fuck her in front of the mirror to show her just how perfect she really was in his eyes.

#sub male #love for anon #sub yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #fem reader

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 9 months ago

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 7

reblog and comment plz <3 i read every one of them and love them all

also here's the masterpost

Damian knew Phantom used echolocation to locate this ravine in the first place, but the question was whether Damian could try the same thing. Damian hugged the walls of the cliff face, keeping his body flush against the surface, and lurking around corners and behind obstacles. The coast was clear.

Clearing his throat, he let out a high-pitched click, projecting it as far as his voice could carry. Immediately, his sensitive ears picked up the echoes coming back in layers. While the sound he sent was singular, the echoes came back in staggered waves, with layers of different pitches and tones and brief silent spells over the course of a millisecond.

This echolocation was useless!

Damian weighed his options. He could approach the surface, but there was no telling if Skulker had a vessel nearby where he could lick his wounds. The worst thing he could do was just hand himself on a silver platter to the creep. On the other hand, he doubted a flashlight would be very useful at the very depths of the ocean.

He still had to try.

Damian’s backside tingled with a light pressure, a feeling he’d come to associate with his lateral line. He armed the wrist ray on his left hand, and grabbed the Anti-Creep Stick with the other. Scanning the ravine revealed no other sirens or fish, but a slight stirring caught his eye.

Damian squinted at the crevice on the opposite side of the bark, not quite sure of what he was supposed to be looking at, until his nose caught the smell. There was definitely something there, but it didn’t smell like another siren the way Phantom and the teenage girls did.

An octopus then?

Octopodes were intelligent creatures, beautiful examples of the ocean’s biodiversity.

But Phantom needed sustenance, and he couldn’t afford for Damian to be picky. However, he put away the bat regardless. He wasn’t so cruel as to bash its head in to death. No, he would make it quick.

Damian unsheathed his claws, and coiled up his tail. Hopefully it wasn’t one of the poisonous varieties. He truly did not want to test Phantom’s immunities at the moment. Like a tiger waiting to leap, Damian kept his body still, and scrutinised the rock for the slightest deviation in colour…

There! Damian pounced. The octopus’s colour returned to its natural yellow pallor. His hands wrapped around its bulbous head. Score! Now to kill it. Sorry octopus, your sacrifice will not be in vain.

However, the mollusk was not about to give up without a fight. Suckered tentacles slapped at Damian’s face. The slimy skin of its head allowed it to slip out of its grasp. As Damian went to activate the wrist ray, a cloud of ink spurted right into his face, and he lost track of it.

Dammit! Damian let out some uncouth words under his breath, and banged his hand on the rock.

Hunting for food was difficult. Theoretically it should’ve been simple. Find something edible, kill it, bring it back, but everything Damian found was either too small to be worth the effort, or too big to risk his life. Multiple times Damian was forced to dive around corners or into claustrophobic cracks as ocean behemoths crossed his path. He couldn’t even find a patch of seaweed or algae this deep into the trench.

He was running out of options as the sun began to set above. Damian was starving himself, and it was getting frustrating. His body was not adapted to thrive in these waters, or maybe it was, and he just didn’t know how.

Either way, the exhaustion of the hunt began to take its toll on him. Far from providing for Phantom’s recovery, he had only wasted his own energy for nothing. Each failed kill, each accumulated bruise left him more and more anxious. That was why when he spotted a lone anglerfish creeping up from the depths, Damian decided to challenge it.

She, for male anglerfish were absolutely tiny satellites to the females, drifted into the twilight zone where Damian caught sight of her. She was almost half his size, and her teeth seemed as big as his fingers Her lure glowed brightly against the darkness of the deep ocean, as little fish wandered closer to the ‘sun’ and got chomped for their troubles. She was truly beautiful.

Hiding behind a small shelf, Damian aimed the wrist ray. The gills should allow him to subdue her quickly. Then securing the kill should be easy.

Damian waited. Just a little closer…

Then he fired.

The light of the shot was almost blinding. When the glare faded, Damian saw not a dead anglerfish, but a very much alive one dashing away. No! Damian sprung into a sprint after her. This may well be his last chance to get anything edible. He had to give chase.

Thankfully he’d gotten a lot of practice the last few others. As the anglerfish tried to round a corner, Damian grabbed its tailfin with his claws, digging in to try and slow it down.

Instead, the angler swerved to the side. Its powerful muscles slammed Damian against the rocky wall. Damian cried out in pain, and his grip loosened enough for the angler to get away.

Damian groaned. Not another one.

Damian lay there, dizzy from pain and exhaustion, watching morosely as the scraped scales healed themselves before his eyes, taking up valuable energy that he did not have to spare. Night fell. Without light, the next few quarries would be even more difficult, if not impossible. What he would do for Alfred’s cooking right about now. He would never make trouble at the dinner table again, if he ever got out of this alive.

His lateral line spiked up again, but Damian just felt tired. Sighing, he readied himself for another beating. How the might have fallen…

He noticed a beam of light shining from around a corner. Hushed voices followed. They were speaking Atlantean! Damian’s heart soared. He didn’t know they were this close to Aquaman’s territory! He knew there were a small number of settlements in the Pacific, but he never expected to stumble into one of them!

“Over here, I require assistance!” He called out.

The whispers rose into rushed conversation he couldn’t make out. Soon he found a light being shined on him, and two Atlantean soldiers, a man and a woman, pointing their spears at him. What?

“State your business here, siren.” The venom in the woman’s voice was palpable. Belatedly, Damian realised it was hasty of him to assume good relations between the two ocean peoples. However, this was his last shot.

“Please, my companion is injured and requires medical assistance. I swear on my name that we do not mean you harm.” Damian pleaded, with complete earnestness. He even added a whimper at the end to make himself look more vulnerable, more childlike and unthreatening, even if it was beneath him.

The man laughed. “Hah! I’ve heard that one before, punk. But if you think you’re gonna pull one over us easily, you’re shit outa luck. Your kind’s not welcome in these waters, now scram.”

Damian’s mouth gaped open. Did these people have not the slightest compassion? He often criticised his father’s habit of picking up strays, but deep down he knew that that trait was a quality of his character, and not a flaw. These Atlanteans could not even be bothered to spare him a glance outside of telling him to leave. Their eyes did not hold compassion, or sympathy, or even pity, only hardened wariness, and contempt.

“Please, I beg of you.”

The soldiers bared their spears at him. “I said scram, siren! Go back to your pod and stay there.”

Damian gave them his best glare as he turned tail and swam.

Only, he stopped once he turned a corner, but was still in earshot.

“Damn sirens, sinking to new lows. What next, a baby?” The male soldier muttered, his voice trailing off as the two returned to their patrol.

Patrolling soldiers meant an outpost, maybe even a settlement. And that meant food, medical supplies, and weapons. Damian knew a golden opportunity when he saw one. If these miscreants would not grant him the aid requested, then who was Damian to decide he didn’t need permission?

And so Damian stalked them closely. He trailed behind the duo of soldiers a dozen or so metres away, using his lateral line and nose to keep close track of their movements. A sense of calm quelled the ever present instinctual fear of being out in the open, as the familiarity of stalking targets washed over him. He almost didn’t have to try, with how terrible their situational awareness. If he were in king of the ocean’s shoes, he’d be very disappointed with his underlings’ performance.

Perhaps he’d have to snitch on them to Aquaman once this was all over. That would be suitable revenge.

The soldiers unwittingly guided him through the ravine, finally ascending. Above the cliff shelf, about two hundred metres away, stood an Atlantean settlement. Looks like he managed to catch them at the end of their route. Excellent.

Damian estimated the town’s circumference to be around ten kilometres, judging by parallax. He could just spot scores of Atlanteans going about their day, kicking their legs about to swim in a way that seemed so clumsy after seeing Phantom zip through the waves. The buildings stretched out from the flat sandy planes to jutting out from the sides of cliffs.

What was more important was the fields. Huge fields full of leafy plants he had never seen before. Along the cliff face, vines weaved between stone supports bearing strange fruits.

Damian grinned.

Now, all he needed to do was infiltrate.

#merman #dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #transformation angst #mermaid instincts #animal instincts #lateral lines #atlanteans #atlantis #it's a colony lmao

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granolawriting · 1 year ago

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⍣ ೋ Makeout with Anakin

Summary: Anakin, a stoic Jedi and hard to read, finds himself faultering at the sight of you. And no amount of discipline will be able to rectify it anymore.

A/N: A rework of an old fic I wrote, and requests are open!! :)

word count: 1k

・❥・

Anakin is a man of few words. His actions, speaking louder than anything he ever verbally said to you. So any slight deviation in gestures, word usage, or even posture was the only way you could ever truly read him. Trying to read a Jedi was a difficult task, but one you learned quickly with Ani purely because of how much time you and him spent together.

But these coming days came and went, that grew.. Difficult. For some unknown reason you felt as if he had become distant, you could no longer understand him. His mannerisms are ones that you had never seen or been able to deduce before. The Anakin that would fiddle with his uniform everso slightly when uncomfortable or flustered, the Anakin that was prone to fingering the sides of his saber when he was lying, that all became obsolete as it seems a new wall was formed and you would have to decipher a whole new level of cues.

This plagued your thoughts for every day leading up to today, as he reverted to only interacting with you when necessary and keeping himself proper and straight, similar to when you first met him. You thought you had gotten him to feel comfortable around you, but not until today did you realize he was actually, quite comfortable with you.

Anakin has always been good at hiding his emotions. Of any kind, really. Especially romantic ones. It was only natural. He still tried very hard to obey the code of ethics laid before him as a Jedi, so even when he has an inkling of emotional yearning, or especially romantic yearning, he seems to almost shut it down immediately. So when you find yourself walking down the halls one minute, to being swooped into an empty room in another, feeling his hot breath inches away from your face, surprise was a broad understatement.

As your eyes finally find the courage to move upwards to connect with the man who had dragged you in there, you’re even more shocked to see how Anakin looked. He looked hungry, slightly disheveled. Strands of his hair falling in front of his face and the way he held himself screamed something you couldn't quite place. He was and always is the quiet type with you, never truly doing anything without it being told to him, he was far past his stage of rebellion as he graduated to jedi. He was most often calm with you, deliberate. So this burst of dominance he portrayed was, new.. But you didn’t mind it.

Once he locked eyes with you, you watched as his ravenous eyes dilute to something softer. Still filled with desire of course, but more so love. Want, even. You stand in shock, your body and his having almost no room in between them after he grabbed you so harshly. But once he had noticed this he automatically backed up. Sternly, but soft nevertheless, apologizing for his crassness. But as you looked at him, not answering to his apology but just staring, he began to move again. This time, in your direction. His back straightened and his usual demeanor at the forefront, he takes a glove covered hand to softly raise your chin.

A soft look was painted on his face as he stared into your eyes, almost as if he was staring at a beautiful painting. With a quiet whisper, never breaking eye contact with you, requests a simple;

¨may I?¨

You knew what he was talking about of course, there wasn’t much else to refer to, really. But internally, god had you wanted this. You had been enchanted by his charm for so long you couldn’t even remember a time where your days were not filled with thoughts of him. You felt like a schoolgirl always walking around temples seeing if you could catch glimpses of him, smiling like a fool at the sight of his praise. He was hard to decipher, but that's what made him so alluring to you. So at the implications of him reciprocating that to the point of.. This, was enough to send you into a whirlwind.

Though, through it all you were able to respond. A small ¨please¨ escaping your lips before he placed his on yours. Feel his soft skin graze yours as he continues.

He wanted just a kiss, but after he had tasted you he knew that once wasn’t enough, and no matter how much he tried to hold back he knew that this wasn’t something he could let up on. He held you closer, taking one hand around your waist to pull you in closer as the other stayed on your jaw, lightly lifting it to the perfect height to meet your lips.

With a little more aggression, passion, he went deeper into you. Letting a soft moan leave his lips every time you let up for breath. He seemed obsessed with your taste, every gasp he made for breath seemed like a chore at the sight of your lips connecting with his, his tongue maneuvering It's way inside you to taste even the depths of your throat as he became a mess at your taste. His hands no longer in their original gentle form he's found gripping your jaw, and clinging on to the fabric that you had around your waist. He was holding back so much, you can tell. And he wanted every inch of you now that he gave in. though of course, you weren't one to mind.

#anakin skywalker #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #anakin fanfiction #anakin smut #anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars smut #anakin imagine #anakin star wars #prequels #star wars anakin #sw anakin #x reader

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izzabela · 6 months ago

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Hi there! Can you write about the female reader being adopted into the Lin Kuei family (similar to Tomas) and was raised along the Lin Kuei trio, Kuai Liang develops romantic feelings for the reader but doesn't know and understand those feelings until years later Kuai Liang overhears one of the earthrealm's champions trying to ask the reader on a date?

Set My Heart Ablaze - Kuai Liang x fem!reader

in which Kuai Liang finally understands the slight ache in his chest every time he sees you

a/n: i love the premise, but i'm tweaking it a bit since adopted siblings are a grey area

ship[s]: kuai liang x fem!reader

warning(s): story deviation?

i seriously would not mind being in between him and bi han

=====================

Before the first signs of his fire powers manifested, Kuai Liang always noted the odd feeling in his chest whenever he saw you.

First meeting as children, probably no more than five years old, Kuai Liang always felt that little beat in his chest. You and Kuai Liang became fast friends, practically inseparable as your childhood played out.

From doing little play-spars, to eating, napping, and playing, you two were always together doing something.

Kuai Liang remembers him telling Bi Han and his father about the "weird feeling" in his chest. His father told him it was him playing too hard, while Bi Han teased him for liking a girl. Heck, even Harumi, when she was able to visit, would always ask him about his "new friend".

Of course, when Tomas was adopted, you and Kuai Liang integrated him to create the trio of mischief. At that time, he wasn't fluent in the language, but Kuai Liang mentally sighed as he realized even he looked between you and him like he liked you.

As you and Kuai Liang grew up, you two grew closer. From little kids who'd chase each other around one another's homes, you guys had become teenagers who would train with one another. More changes came along with the passage of time: his powers had come to him, your own magic came as well, learning the ways of both your clans, more responsibilities, training.

Not to mention puberty.

Though both of you still rather young, it was clear to Kuai Liang that you were going to flourish into something beautiful. Your body was experiencing changes, like how you grew taller. Your eyes began to sparkle a little more, and the air around you seemed... softer.

Over all, you just grew more pretty in Kuai Liang's eyes, and that same feeling in his chest kept clawing at him.

To keep himself focused, he came to the conclusion that this feeling was a side effect to his pyro powers. In order to master them, he needed to truly focus- and that meant isolation until he could get it right. As he honed his powers during that time, Kuai Liang noted that the thumping went away. Maybe he got it right, until you sent him a letter.

The rhythmic feeling came back, this time doubled its speed. He had to get it checked by the mages in the palace, but they concluded no magic resided in the ink or parchment. It was strange, and it kept Kuai Liang's mind muddled with thoughts and what-ifs. When he confided to his family about it, it was a mixed bag of reactions.

"Your magic is reactive, so cease any feelings not related to mastering your magic," Bi Han scolded him. Tomas was a bit kinder, though.

"Perhaps you need rest, your magic is a lot harder to control."

That was but many years ago. Now, here you were, with him and his brothers watching you spar Raiden as part of a joint training session pushed by Lord Liu Kang. In the many centuries he had been doing this, he had called upon your clan to role-play Empress Sindel's daughters in spars.

This time would be no different.

Kuai Liang watched as you held deadly metal fans in your hands. You stood against Kung Lao, who also bore a deadly weapon as part of everyday use. He watched as you circled one another, before Kung Lao practically pounced at you.

You moved like water, fluid as you dodged everything he threw at you. You were practically dancing as you parried his attacks, blocked, or threw your own arms and legs at him. He was lost in a trance at you impeccable skills, awed by your talent, and stumped by your undeniable beauty as you downed the farm boy.

Kung Lao was flat on his back on the ground. His head was pinned between the dagger-fans, and his hat was in your hands and against his neck. No, you weren't cutting him, simply cornering him until he conceded- which he finally did after a groan and a hefty sigh.

Kuai Liang's chest had been going at it all day, but the sight of you helping Kung Lao up with the same face you always gave him made his chest squeeze tighter than ever. He tried to keep the knotting feeling at bay, but it was too much for him. So much for fire magic mastery.

His hand is on Bi Han's shoulder, gripping it tightly as he doubles over and begins to heave for air. It's constricting, like someone keeping him in a chokehold in the air. It's so bad that everyone begins to look over at them, including you.

"Are you alright, brother?" He asks with a hint of worry in his gravely voice.

Kuai Liang shakes his head, "I am fine, just the magic." Bi Han is skeptical, but he accepts it.

Tomas's anxiety is more evident in his voice. "Are you ill? Do you need to head to the infirmary?"

Kuai Liang tries to answer again, but his eyes accidentally catch the concern in yours. You approach him slowly, like one does a frightened animal, but he just turns away and leans on Tomas to take him up on his offer.

"Brother, we are taking our leave," Tomas announces. You're shocked at how quickly Kuai Liang rejects you, but you bow to them in respect as you watch Tomas carry a limping Kuai Liang with a worried Bi Han trailing behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kuai Liang wakes up to a mixture of hushed whispers from within and outside the infirmary. He blinks the blurriness from his eyes, and he sits up to be met with his brothers at the bedside.

"Agh," he groans, holding his head. Bi Han just tuts his tongue, getting up from his seat to get some stuff. Tomas smiles in relief, sighing as he gets closer.

"Oh thank goodness you're awake!" he says happily. "You crashed right before we entered the infirmary, and you began to overheat to the point I almost burned."

Kuai liang chuckles nervously. "Apologies, brother. Are you alright?" Tomas just nods, and Bi Han comes in with his own words.

"If it weren't for me, Tomas would have been on a bed as well." Bi Han sits back down on the bedside chair, dipping the rag in cold water and slapping it (yes, slapping it) on Kuai Liang's forehead. He sighs at the coolness, sinking back into bed once more.

He's relaxed, sitting in the comfortable silence of his brothers, but he picks up on a couple of voices outside the infirmary. There's a window right above his bed, and it's cracked just enough for him to hear the conversation outside.

It seems Tomas and Bi Han notice his behavior as well, vigilantly watching Kuai Liang's expressions as the wind carries the voices.

"Not everyone who smiles at you is in love, Johnny," a semi-deep voice scolds. "Besides, when will we possibly have free time for you to take her anywhere?"

Kuai Liang's eyebrows go up ever so slightly, but he keeps his breathing steady to make sure his chest doesn't beat him into a stupor.

"Come on, Ken doll," Johnny says, "We could just eat privately from everyone else during lunch! All I gotta do is ask."

Kuai Liang is nervous, especially since he thinks he knows where the conversation is going, but he doesn't want any emotions to take over until he gets the bigger picture.

He hears your name coming from a youthfully arrogant voice, and that's when everything becomes clear.

"She is too good for you," Kung Lao interjects. "If she is anything like a clan leader, she will reject you on the spot."

Johnny scoffs, "That's why we call it 'shooting your shot', but you wouldn't know since I'm the one who'll do it first, Razor-rang."

Kuai Liang shuts the window with a harsh thud, but it doesn't filter out the fight between Kung Lao and Johnny over you. He closes his eyes and tries to control his breathing that gets more haggard every second. One hand over his heart and another on his head, he's hyperventilating as the thudding in his chest grows more and more incessant.

"B-Brother?" Tomas stutters as he removes the blankets over him, "Kuai Liang, talk to us!"

Bi Han's palms are immediately hovering over his body, emitting a bit of frost and snow to try and cool him down. There's a burning smell that comes from Kuai Liang, and the sweat coming from his body only adding more fuel to the fire (haha punny).

It isn't until Bi Han literally freezes a part of Kuai Liang's arm that he snaps out of his fiery episode.

"Kuai Liang! What in the realms!" Bi Han scolds as he sits his brother up against some stacked pillows. The heat from Kuai Liang's body is melting his arm, but it doesn't stop his thoughts.

Ask her out? Kuai Liang thinks. Again, that stupid thumping racks his ribs at the thought of of you out on a date with one of them- especially Johnny.

His mind plays visions of you laughing at something the actor says, the sound of your laughter not his anymore. It flashes to your smile, but it isn't directed at him.

As Kuai Liang steadies his breathing, Bi Han is the first to piece everything together.

"Is it her?" Bi Han asks as your name slips from his mouth.

Bi Han is frustrated when Kuai Liang shakes his head and plays an excuse.

"As stated before, jus' my magic," his voice slurred just a bit.

Bi Han just groans again, and it is Tomas who tries to egg him on, playing off Bi Han's idea.

"I did hear that she'll be going on a date soon. Raiden did mention to me that Kung Lao would be planning to ask her out..."

Tomas hit the sweet spot with that one. Kuai Liang's chest squeezes once more, and he takes deep breaths to try and alleviate his heart burn.

Bi Han and Tomas have never had a moment like this before. Their usually level-headed brother, one with perfect battle plans and proper thinking, was lost and disheveled at the mere mention of your name.

Scratch that, not even mention. The sight of you, the smell of you, the look of you. He had been felled by love, a double-edged sword if not properly handled.

And right now, the sword was cutting him deep.

"You are... in love with her?" Bi Han asks carefully.

At this declaration, all of Kuai Liang's memories of you and him come flooding in like a tidal wave. Strong, powerful, and overwhelming, it ironically soothed the pain he had in his chest. Dulling it completely until he felt a new rhythm in it.

His heart boomed with a quick, but not suffocating, rhythm at the thought of you. His eyes were soft, his breathing stable, and he sunk into the comfort of his pillows as he stared into the ceiling.

"Oh," is all he manages to say.

Tomas wears the shock all over his face, while Bi Han stares with a singular raised brow. They turn to one another before looking back at Kuai Liang.

Was that all it took for him to finally piece together his own feelings?

As Bi Han and Tomas are busy cleaning up, they hear a knock on the door. Kuai Liang is silent as he hears your soft voice speak to his kin.

"I brought food for him," you say in a hushed voice. "Knowing him, he must be starved."

He sits up again and meets your eyes. Shining like stars, you smile brightly as you sat down next to his thighs on the edge of the bed. In between you two are rice balls and steamed buns, and in a bakers dozen. Thirteen each food, all for you two to share.

"How are you?" You ask him as you took a bite of the steamed bun. "You looked so... nervous earlier. Are you alright?"

Kuai Liang nods dumbly as his body is on autopilot. He begins to eat a rice ball robotically, and Bi Han rubs his temple in disappointment.

"U-uh, we'll be taking our leave!" Tomas announces as he bows. He takes his brother's wrist and walks out, leaving you a little sad as you wanted to share the food.

"Poo..." you huff. "More for us!"

It's quiet between you two, but it isn't awkward. The beating in Kuai Liang's chest, you both keep eating away at the food until he takes a break to inform you of some interesting news.

"Kung Lao seems to have an eye for you," he says. "The actor as well. He plans to ask you to a private dinner."

Your eyes are wide at first, then you break down into hysterical laughter. Kuai Liang smiles nervously, but you just keep going in your fit of amusement.

"Funny you are, Kuai Liang. I mean, where did you hear that?" As you wipe your eyes from the tears of joy, you're met with the confident stare of Kuai Liang's eyes. Still, you are innocent to how he actually feels, and you continue to provoke him with your thoughts.

"Perhaps I will accept just because. Perhaps someone will win a bet with my boldness." Kuai Liang huffs at you with a glare, and you're shocked to say the least.

"I only jest, my friend." You go back to eating your food, and the ambience is awkward.

Kuai Liang, without thought or warning, slams his food down and moves closer to you. Shuffling out of his seat, he sits right next to you, and he takes your hand to place it over his heart. You gasp at how warm he is, despite the many layers that are between him and his body. You're very close to him, smelling the natural scent of burned lumber on his body as he tilts your chin up.

"Kuai... what is this?" you ask quietly, almost breathlessly, as you focus in on that rhythm in his chest. His heart, racing and pulsating, moves even faster at your tender touch. Kuai Liang responds just as softly.

"Do you feel this?" he asks you. "Do you feel what you do to me?" he's motioning you to the feeling in his chest. Dumbly, you nod, unable to focus as all the fine details of the assassin are right in front of you.

His deep brown eyes stare at you deeply, and you can see the little scars and scabs from years of battle. His brows, usually in one position, are softened and relaxed. And dear oh dear, his lips are thick and full, kissable- wait, did you really think about that?

"Your heart beats," you answer the obvious. "But... why is that an issue? Is it your magic?"

He shakes his head, "I guess, one could say it is magic. However, it is all you. Your smile, your laughter, presence, everything has a magic bind over me."

If you were shocked before, you'd probably have a heart attack by now. This was a hearty confession, one he had kept for years, and you'd also be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him as well.

"So then... it isn't your magic?" you tease him, patting his chest lightly. He chuckles and moves his hand from under your chin to your cheek.

"You set my heart ablaze, my dear." Your own heart probably exploded right about now. It doesn't stop you as you move your other free hand to his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you give him the confirmation he had been looking for.

The healing spell to his chest problems, if you will.

"Give it to me, your heart," you whisper confidently. "I'll keep the flame alive for as long as I live."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bonus scene:

Tomas smelled something funny when he went to check on Kuai Liang after he and Bi Han left.

As a hunter, he developed a great sense of smell, and he was very useful to his family before the accident. He could smell when it was going to rain, whether threats lurked, or if there was game near by. He could also smell the scents of people.

As he, Bi Han, you, and Kuai Liang stood side by side, outside watching the champions train in a 2v2 match, the wind carried a scent he never thought he would smell in his lifetime.

By the elder gods, you two had sex when he left.

He keeps a brave face on, using his hand to over his nose and mouth to seem like he was in deep thought, but his nose couldn't lie. The pheromones of his brother's natural smell and yours were mixed in the air, and it was suffocating as the stench was stronger than any screen of smoke he had released.

"Does anyone smell that?" he asks to test the waters, but you and his brothers shake your heads.

There were times he wanted his untrained nose back- this was one of them.

He sighs as he keeps up the façade.

I think I might meet my end here, he thinks.

=====================

why was kuai liang hard to write for LOLOL

no yapping today, still trying to finish my requests

see y'all in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 #kuai liang #scorpion #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mortal kombat x reader #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x you #scorpion x you #scorpion x reader

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