#which just makes him look adorably doe-eyed more than anything

[coockie8]

how does hughes feel about eds insecurities?

They break his heart a bit. Hughes' relationship with Ed toes the line between "weird pseudo-boyfriend" and "weird pseudo-dad", and the dad part can't help but get frustrated with whatever Ed's upbringing was that's got him hating how he looks so much.

[alexiroflife]

jjk men calling you annoying...

"hi! ik u have a few reqs to do and ur going on vacation but i was reading some of ur works and saw u did a headcannon for calling jjk men annoying. i was thinking what if u did the opposite w the jjk men calling reader annoying? if u dont decide to do this thats okay! cant wait to eat up your other upcoming fics <3" -anon

some angst, jjk men being assholes (except for nanami)

satoru, suguru, kento, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo:

normally, satoru is the one that is considered to be annoying. every higher up, coworker, and student of his alike would agree that satoru’s personality is pestering on its own, for his behavior doesn’t align with the severity of the jujutsu world in the eyes of others.

satoru has never cared how others judged him, for he often takes to picking on others for the sake of getting a reaction. he enjoys lightening the mood of drab situations, therefore he’s tossing around inappropriate jokes during meetings, teasing utahime for the umpteenth time, or trying to force megumi into spending quality time with him while the sixteen year old does his best to pretend he doesn’t know him in public.

and with you, he’s far worse. satoru can not bear being away from you or your attention being focused into anything other than him for longer than two minutes, and he’s always making an excuse to abandon whatever he’s doing to be by your side. satoru is the very definition of clingy, and while everyone finds it annoying, you can not deny that you adore how the strongest glues himself to you as though he can not bear for the two of you to be parted.

those around him believe it’s impossible for someone as annoying as gojo to actually be annoyed by anything, but you know what pisses him off. you know that he can not stand the jujutsu higher ups and how they antagonize children who were given no choice but to live the lives they lead. he can not stand the way they order him around to carry out unfavorable tasks with no regard for his past experiences or the experiences of the students that he is meant to monitor. he can not stand the lectures, the judgmental tones, the expectation of respect when it is not given in return.

and he can not stand when he is forced to attend hearings or meetings with them, where he has to listen to them drone on and on about how irresponsible he is when satoru is the only one truly looking out for the good of all groups. they demand so much of him, yet treat him like trash in return. nothing peeves him off more.

he knows that you understand this about him as a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, but you have the tendency to be more tolerant of injustices than he is. what he means is that you know how to save face for the sake of your own sanity and pay the elders no mind whilst simultaneously making them think that you are in cooperation with them. you know how to feign manners and respect, which satoru does not bother to do.

consequently, when you tell him that the upcoming meeting that he has scheduled with the higher ups is one he should attend instead of skipping due to its level of importance, he can’t help but be irritated with you.

“i’m just saying, satoru,” you say into the speaker with your phone pressed to your ear. the blue eyed man is on his way to said meeting after you practically forced him to attend, and he’s not at all happy about it. “once you’re in there, you’ll be out in no time.”

“(y/n), somehow those pricks make a half an hour feel like two,” your boyfriend complained into the phone. you place your hand on your hip and look up to the ceiling.

“you’re being so pessimistic about it,” you sigh. “it’s gonna be worse the worse you talk about it.”

“no, it’s gonna be bad regardless because these higher ups don’t know up from down or left from right.”

you can tell he’s growing aggravated, which was the opposite effect you wanted this call to have. you lower your head and attempt to shift, to reassure him in a different way.

“it’s gonna be okay, toru,” you tell him. “you’re above these people anyway, no matter what the hierarchy at this school is-“

“if you really thought that, you wouldn’t have made me go.”

you frown. “you didn’t really have a choice with this one, you know that right? whether you like the assholes or not, the meeting itself is important. you need to be there.”

“i really wish you’d stop saying that,” he exhales, agitatedly.

“stop saying what?” you scrunch your face, hand falling from your hip. “that it’s your responsibility?”

“yeah, actually,” he snaps. “hell, you’re starting to sound just like everyone else.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you scoff. “satoru, i’m just trying to help you. sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal.”

“suck it up?” he repeats incredulously. “i suck it up every day of my life. everyone wants me to do something for them, but expects me not to have my own opinions in return and that shit doesn’t make any sense.”

“that’s not what i’m trying to say-“

“then what are you trying to say? to just go along with all the messed up shit the higher ups want me to do?”

“no.”

“then what?”

“to just attend a meeting for the sake of your job, satoru. my god, that’s all.”

he tchs, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes on the other line. “fine. whatever.”

“what’s with your attitude? i’m genuinely just trying to look out for you, like…?”

“you’re not helping, (y/n). you’re being annoying.”

his words sting, and you stand still in the hall to your classroom as you register satoru’s tone and accusation. there’s silence, and satoru knows that when you say nothing more, he’s crossed a line.

even so, he’s too heated currently to own up to it in this moment, so he lets the silence swallow you both as he walks.

“okay,” you mumble apathetically after a while. “bye, satoru.”

you hear him prepare to say something, but your thumb is already hiding the end call button.

throughout the next half and hour, you try your best to focus on teaching your lesson to the second years, but you find yourself struggling.

you understand satoru’s frustrations with the higher ups, but to take that frustration out on you is completely uncalled for.

and to call you annoying? for ensuring that he doesn’t further endanger his already shaky position with the the authorities over him? how ungrateful is that! how could he label you as a disturbance to him when all you’ve ever done was try to lighten his load?

you don’t understand it. and it hurts to know that one little thing in comparison to the plethora of clingy annoyances that satoru has the habit of displaying that you don’t even find aggravating is enough to send him over the edge.

you’re aggressively erasing your chalkboard at the end of your lesson when you hear the sound of air flushing and papers fluttering behind you. immediately, you feel satoru’s presence much to your displeasure.

“baby?” he calls you tentatively, though you already know full well that he is there in your vacant room. you don’t reply, continuing to swipe your eraser over the chalk. “baby, please don’t ignore me,” he sighs guiltily. “can i… can we just talk?”

“get out, satoru.”

you can physically feel Satoru’s mannerisms droop behind you, but you do not fall for it. he deserves your standoffishness, your unwillingness to engage.

“i just wanna talk, (y/n)… just five minutes?”

you clench your jaw, brows angling tensely as his earlier words run through your mind again and again. your pace picks up and your movements grow harsher.

before you know it, you feel the white haired man brushing behind you inches away, reaching a hand to your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“stop!” you rip away, stepping back. satoru retracts his hand quickly, crystal eyes blown wide as he watches you. you slam your eraser down onto the ledge and hold your hands up. “just stop! you don’t get to be rude to me and then just come back around as if everything’s okay. what if I don’t want to talk to you?”

having removed his blindfold before coming here, you can see the pain and remorse circling in his gaze. “pretty, i didn’t mean to say what i said,” he starts again slowly. “i-i’m sorry, i was just overstimulated and angry- not even at you, and you were telling me to do something I didn’t want to do but had to do, then i…” he huffs. “i’m so sorry.”

you fold your arms and stare harshly at the board, brows twitching as satoru’s smooth, genuine apology flows through your ears.

when you still don’t say anything, satoru’s mouth tugs downward and his lashes fluttere prettily over his cheek. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk to me or see me right now. i was being shitty, and i didn’t mean it, baby. i just had to come and tell you that as soon as the meeting was over… and you were right. i needed to be there.”

you close your eyes. “why don’t you ever listen to me?”

satoru practically jumps when he hears you speak. “what did you say?”

“you never listen to me, toru,” you look at him desperately. “you always do what you want to do, and when i have to make you do something, you pout. is what i say really that unimportant to you?”

“no,” he rushes out, swooping in to stand before you so he can meet your eyes up close. “no, no, no. no, that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“i listen to you, baby. i do, i just struggle when you give me suggestions about work because we have completely different approaches. you play by the rules more and i do what i think is best even if it’s not what I’m told is best. which is okay. i’m not saying that either way is better than the other, it’s just that difference between us clashes sometimes.”

you hum.

“but that doesn’t mean i don’t listen, or don’t respect you, (y/n). i respect you more than anyone i know.”

“then you should act like it.”

“i know,” he pushed out his bottom lip, taking your forearms in his hands. “i know, i can be all over the place sometimes. i’m sorry pretty girl.”

you wish you could stay angry, but satoru’s touch almost instantly melts away the tension in your body. almost.

“please don’t call me annoying like that again,” you look over him. “seriously, that wasn’t nice.”

“never,” he swears. “i promise, never again. i don’t even know why it came out in the first time. please forgive me, baby, I’m sorry.”

you exhale, and before you can respond, satoru is ducking down and suffocating your face with a plethora of kisses from your forehead to cheeks and down to your jaw. murmurs of apologizes slip through as he attacks you, and you squeal as you try turn away.

“okay!” you shout, pushing at his chest. “i forgive you, get off!”

“i love youuu,” he lands a particularly long kiss to your nose. “so much. let me take you out tonight to apologize properly, pretty. will you let me?”

you stifle a smile, keeping your hands to your chest as you glare up at him when he pulls away with a grin. “fine.”

suguru geto:

suguru loves you dearly, truly he does, but he notices that the longer he is in a relationship with you, the more entitled you become. granted, he spoils the hell out of you because you’re his one and only, therefore he only feels it is appropriate to shower you with the unconditional love that he has for you.

you know that suguru rarely ever says no to you. hell, he doesn’t want to deny you of the things you ask of him because he should be the person that you always come to for anything. along with his girls, you’ve stolen his heart, and his love language is taking care of you - making you rotten.

so when suguru can not abide by what you demand, you pout and poke and prod and pester. in some ways, you remind him of how satoru used to behave in his company, so commanding of what you want from him in the most combative, brattiest way that it has him rubbing the space between his forehead with angled brows.

and the attitude on you is criminal. suguru knows he can not necessarily talk because his attitude is just as bad, but the moment suguru disagrees with you about something, you make it a point keep pressing the matter sassily.

there are a million things that suguru finds to be more of a pain to his peace than you, but he can not deny that when you get on his nerves, you truly tick him off.

suguru is known to have very little patience in general. he chalks it up to his occupation, having to deal with idiotic human beings all day to the point where it wears down his capacity for bullshit. he needs things to resolve themselves at his pace in order to feel as though he can go about his day, but when they don’t, it frustrates him to no end.

that is why when you fail to give it a rest after suguru has told you no four times now to getting lunch with you because he has business to take care of, he is beginning to lose his cool.

“(y/n),” suguru exhales your name in exasperation. he’s on his way out of the front door. “angel, you know i’m busy today. you’re usually a lot more understanding when it comes to my schedule, i don’t know where the disconnect is right now.”

you’re growing upset, for you’ve never enjoyed watching suguru leave, but for some reason you are feeling all the more sensitive to his departure today. the dark haired cult leader has been so busy lately that you and the girls have hardly been able to catch him for longer than five minutes when he’s home. you want to sit and talk with him, to at least have a quick thirty minute meal together, but he’s still refusing you, and you never fair well with being refused by geto.

“but suguru,” you curl your brows and gaze at him sadly. “I’m just asking for one day. that��s all, we don’t even need to be out long. i already have a place in mind that’s right around the corner from the group- i can even pick you up. you won’t have to worry about a thing. please, just this once?”

the hazel eyed man can not stand saying no to you, even more so when you look at him with such pleading in your eyes, but he’s told you a hundred times that he can’t do what you please today. as much as he’d love to go to lunch with you, there are no exceptions. he’s already pushing himself behind by trying to reason with you.

“the answer is no, (y/n),” he tells you with soft sternness. your frown deepens leading Suguru to walk over to you. he guides his hand to your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to make you feel better. “i’m sorry. i know things haven’t been the best lately with me being home, but i’m trying my best.”

you want to be more supportive, but you miss suguru. you do, and to feel like a second priority to a cult he doesn’t even like makes you upset.

you grumble incoherently under your breath and cross your arms. suguru feels your stature shift, and he pulls away to eye you. you avoid his gaze purposefully, and suguru instantly knows what’s going on with you.

“don’t start,” he advises as a warning. you don’t take well to the comment, the muscles in your face tightening as you go to ease away from suguru’s grasp. he doesn’t have time for this right now. “i mean it.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you murmur, looking down as suguru examines you closely.

“you’re sulking.”

“okay, and maybe that’s because i don’t want my boyfriend to leave?” you snap.

“i know, (y/n). you’re acting like i want to leave too, but this is work.”

“and clearly work’s more important now,” you roll your eyes.

suguru shakes his head and pulls away with narrow eyes. “you’re being incredibly irritating right now.”

you freeze, geto’s words stabbing you through the chest like a stake to the heart. “what?” you repeat weakly, your grit having gone.

“you aren’t listening to me. it’s getting old and it’s irritating,” he says again, this time as he turns away and walks back to the door.

you stare at his back blankly. your heart hammers against your chest, and your face falls. normally when you behave a certain way that suguru doesn’t appreciate, he spends his time either circling back and trying to reach and understand or punishing you. but now, he’s just walking away with no intention of doing either. you expected more, and you hadn’t expected for him to outright call you annoying.

sure, you push a little too much sometimes, but annoying? all you want is him. is it annoying to desire such a simple thing?

“i’ll be home later, alright? we can talk about this when i get back,” he tells you, pulling the door open and allowing the sunlight to peer in. when you do not respond, he speaks again in annoyance. “alright?”

you still don’t answer, and this time he turns over his shoulder to see what is keeping you from giving him a verbal affirmation.

his face relaxes, however, when he says you standing silently with your hands at your sides. your gaze has turned to one of subtle embarrassment as you frown, mulling over suguru’s emotions in a less stubborn, more deflated manner.

despite suguru’s irritation with you, the moment he sees your discomfort, he’s flipping the switch in an instant.

slowly, he shuts the door again without a word. he figures it won’t hurt anyone to be another five minutes late, for he is the founder of the religious group after all. what he says goes, and he will not leave until this mild conflict with you is sorted out.

he walks over and takes your head in his hands, tilting your face up to reveal your big, shiny eyes. with another quiet sigh, he’s taking one hand and rubbing your shoulder as he holds your stare.

“i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he tells you gently, immediately knowing what is plaguing you. “i’m just frustrated.”

“…frustrated with me?” you ask slowly.

he presses his lips together. “yeah, angel. i am a little bit,” he confesses honestly. while this isn’t the response you wanted, geto knows it’s the response you need to hear… even if you struggle to accept it, your head nodding stiffly but your eyes telling a story of humiliation. and he hates it. he hates how unhappy you look, but no good has ever come from partners lying to one another about how they feel.

“but,” you start as suguru’s swipes a thumb over your brow lovingly. “suguru, all i wanted was to have lunch with you. is that such a crazy thing? you’re hardly around anymore.”

“i know, (y/n), and no it’s not, but you’re not respecting the fact that while i want to more than anything, i can’t. not today,” he says once more. “i do this for you and the girls too, you know. it’s not just for me. any money i make is yours, and if i need to work my ass off to provide for you and our future, i will. and it’s not fair for you to throw a fit when i can’t drop all of that when you ask me to.”

it’s a hard pill for you to swallow, but you know that suguru’s point is more than valid.

you inhale and exhale deeply, his touch swarming you tenderly despite how he feels. “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “im sorry for pushing. i just want you here. it gets hard sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

he pulls your face in to kiss your cheek softly, your hand going to cradle his wrists.

“and i’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected in any way, and for calling you irritating. there was probably a better way for me to say that.”

“it’s okay,” you mumble as pulls away. “i probably was being annoying anyway...”

geto smiles softly. “you were,” he chuckles, and you gap at him.

“suguru,” you frown and he laughs again.

“sorry.” the hazel eyed man leans in to capture your lips in a soft kiss before you can pour any longer, eyes gleaming kindly when he draws back. he at least does not look aggravated any longer, his features much calmer than before. “how about a day out this weekend? you, me, and the girls.”

your eyes light up. “really? you’re sure?”

“yeah, angel,” he nods. “i miss you all too, you know. you’re all i think about when I’m dealing with those monkeys all day.”

“…can we maybe go to the farmer’s market?” you suggest. “i wanna get some stuff to make a big dinner for us, and the girls want to get some flowers.”

“absolutely we can. sounds great.”

“thank you,” you smile, wrapping your arms over his neck and tugging him down into a tight hug. suguru laughs gently, sliding his arms around you. “i hope you have a good day today. i won’t pester you about work anymore.”

“okay, baby,” he rubs your back. “I gotta go now, okay? i’ll try not to be out late. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

kento nanami:

despite kento’s remarkable talent in serving you as your partner, he is still a human being subject to human emotions. when he’s annoyed with you, he doesn’t make it your problem. he simply makes it known that he is beginning to be plagued by the feeling, and though it hurts your feelings, you understand and give him the space he needs.

kento does not get irritated with you often at all. you are a gift upon his stressful life, and it’s difficult for you to pose as a source of stress when the rest of his life is already so anxiety-inducing. you’re his everything, and even when he does get ever so slightly annoyed with you, it’s never at the same level as other factors - like gojo. you don’t even begin to compare.

the only time nanami finds himself growing upset because of you is when you choose not to listen to or communicate with him.

nanami works hard to put your needs before his own and he is more than happy to do so. he feels it is the only way things should be, for as long as you are happy and well cared for, he is content.

however, there are moments when he does so that can come off to you as a tad overbearing. he cares for your physical and mental wellbeing, so that also comes with constant check ins about whether you’re eating properly or how much sleep you’re getting. it’s sweet, his persistent doting, but you don’t always fair well with how often he’s interrogating you about your lifestyle when he literally witnesses every second of what you do as your fiancé.

and of course, when you react poorly by getting even the slightest hint of an attitude or portray your own annoyance in a poor manner, nanami, who always tries his best to find a solution to problems if you are bothered by something, is bothered himself when you do not cooperate.

nanami is incredibly patient with you, and he tries his best to practice patient with you when he internally feels you are being unreasonable.

so he resorts to silence as he ponders what to do next. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table as tension swirls about. your knee is frantically bouncing as you glare ahead. you don’t like when kento does something to bother you, for everything he does is so perfect you feel like you don’t have a right to be bothered, and you rarely ever are. and you may try to hide when you’re upset, but nanami sees you so clearly. he knows you like the back of his hand, therefore, there is no hiding.

and of course, nanami would never grow annoyed with what you feel… it’s how you communicate with him when you feel a certain way. you shut down and make it impossible for him to talk through it, and as someone who likes to work through things while they are occurring, it’s a bit of a pain when you go quiet and refuse to give him anything.

now, you both sit rather annoyed with one another, for that is likely the only instance nanami will feel some sort of irritation sparked by you. the blonde taps his finger against the table with his legs crossed, unsure of how to move forward. he’s tried calling your name, tried asking you what’s wrong, tried suggesting anything he can do to fix it, but you, afraid to even further speak truth into your emotions, reply with shrugs and mute shakes of your head.

it takes at least another few minutes for nanami to rise slowly, fixing the collar of his shirt and clearing his throat you look up and see by his rigid posture that he is not in the happiest of spirits, and when you finally notice, you realize that he had been silent along with you for quite some time now, his series of questions having ceased.

“i am going for a drive,” he announces formally. you blink up at him, your knee still bouncing. his chocolate eyes meet yours with a hefty sigh. “i won’t be longer than forty minutes.”

forty?!

“…okay,” is the very first word you have said in a while, and nanami nods curtly. though he appears indifferent, his shoulders are tense, his jaw is taut, and a dent creases the space between his brows. you can tell by these signs that he has grown to match your previous feelings. “where are you going?”

“to clear my head. i don’t believe anything productive will come from the both of us sitting here like this.”

you furrow your brows. “are you angry with me now?”

“no,” he gathers his keys. “i am not angry. only, admittedly, a bit perturbed,” he says without looking at you.

you know that nanami had annoyed you first, but to hear him tell you so is humbling nonetheless. what reason does he have to be annoyed? what did you do?

“um,” you stumble. “why…?”

the prospect of you now trying to interrogate him after he had spent so much time trying to get through to you, or at least a word out, does very little to ease the man.

he lifts a hand, guiding his palm out to ease the conversation before it can escalate. “(y/n), i’m not in any state to talk about this right now. give me a bit and i will be back.”

his eyes find yours to ensure that you see that earnest in his brow hues, and your shoulders slump, your knee stilling completely.

“is that alright?”

you nod slowly. “yes. that's alright.”

kento nods again, swiping up his jacket from the back of his chair before stepping out of the door, clicking it shut behind him.

you reel in his absence, sitting in the aftermath. maybe you reacted poorly… but you couldn’t help it. you don’t always enjoy being overwhelmed with a series of questions from your boyfriend as though he is your doctor or father. sometimes you just wish to be.

you know he only does so out of concern. you know he loves you, better than anyone has ever loved you, but your reaction had been involuntary.

the look on nanami’s face only proved that you should have handled the situation differently. you hate when he’s upset, but that way of thinking alone is unfair. he likely hates when you’re upset too, and you shut down when he was trying to help.

as guilt swarms you, you retreat to the living room where you mindlessly flip through the tv channels, your focus elsewhere.

kento ends up returning hardly twenty minutes later. you look in surprise to the door as he enters with takeout in his hands. he looks up, his face a bit more relaxed as he enters.

neither of you speak as he kicks his shoes off at the door and makes his way toward you. he sets the bags of food down on the coffee table before you and slowly sits down next to you, hands to his thighs.

“i got us dinner,” he says as you shuffle to make room for him. the aroma of your favorite thai food fills your senses and makes you become rather aware to your hunger, for you haven’t eaten in a while.

kento sits with his forearm resting on his knee, his body facing you. you look away, embarrassed to even speak to him, though you do whisper a ‘thank you’ that is only audible to nanami because he is seated right beside you.

he reaches a hand out to hold yours, his other sliding over top to caress the back of it. “honey,” he starts softly. “I don’t want this to go on longer than it should.”

“you’re back earlier than you said,” you mention, looking down at his hands over yours.

“i didn’t need to be gone long to want to sit down with you about this again.” you nod. “are you okay?” he asks you, and you nod again.

“yeah, are you?”

“i’m better,” he answers. “my intention was not to leave on a bad note so abruptly. i just needed a moment to myself.”

“no, i understand, ken. i don’t blame you for taking a step back.”

“are you okay with me telling you why i was upset?”

“of course i am.”

he gives a gentle smile before proceeding. “it seems that every time i try to work through something with you, you do not wish to cooperate. if you were to tell me that you need space before explaining, i would understand better and give you time, but you say nothing. you barely even look at me, and i try my best to give you the patience you deserve but you do not do the same for me.”

“it’s not that- I wasn’t trying to be impatient with you, it’s just that sometimes i don’t want to talk about things.”

“then I would prefer it if you’d say that instead of shutting me out, because then i’m left to pick up the pieces with nothing to go off of,” he pleads. “and it’s unhealthy for you to harbor everything that bothers you inside. you could get sick doing that, and it hinders our communication.”

you can tell he is about to give you another lecture, which is what led you here in the first place. you take in a deep breath and try to regulate yourself, glancing down. “yeah, i hear you,” you mutter. “i just get… i don’t know, it feels weird to tell you when something you’ve done bothers me.”

“why, sweetheart?”

“because you’re so good to me,” you frown. “you don’t deserve to hear that i’m upset with you for probably no reason.”

“look at me, honey.” you oblige, locking eyes with his once again shyly. “as good as i am to you and you are to me, getting angry or upset or irritated with one another is normal. it’s healthy. no relationship is free of trials, and if this is our worst problem, i’d confidently say that we are doing quite well.”

you listen to him carefully, taking in his words as you look over his face.

“now, will you tell me what it was i did to upset you earlier?”

“it’s so stupid, ken.”

“your feelings are not stupid. please. i need to know so i don’t repeat my mistakes.”

you huff and eventually give in. “well, sometimes... you do this thing… where you lecture me… and i appreciate you looking out for me all the time, but sometimes when you ask me a hundred things at once about stuff that I’m more than aware of as an adult, it makes me feel like you’re patronizing me.”

a stern look of realization crosses the blonde’s features. “i had no idea.”

“i mean… i never told you, so i was getting upset with you for something you weren’t even aware of,” you exhale. “i’m really sorry, kento. I struggle with communicating certain things, and i shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so irritated in the first place.”

“there’s no need for you to apologize,” he dismisses. “i apologize for making you feel as though I’ve been speaking down to you. i only check in so often because i care.”

“i know,” you lean in. “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“but i can see how it may be a bit overbearing,” he admits. “i’ll try to mind myself in the future.”

“oh, it’s okay, ken,” you lift your hand to his cheek, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “you’re perfect, baby. i’m sorry if i made you feel otherwise.”

“i am far from perfection, my love,” he kisses your inner palm. “i make plenty of mistakes.”

“so do i, clearly,” you chuckle.

he smiles again, and this time it reaches his warm eyes. “yes, but the way i see it, you would not be perfect without them.”

choso kamo:

choso, bless his heart, has never found anything you do to be even remotely close to what he could find annoying. everything you do in his eyes is perfect, flawless, and he clings to you so much that he finds it impossible to think of your actions or words as something that poses as an aggravation to him.

what he finds irritating is when yuji will borrow his shirts without asking and fail to return them for days, or when he’s been assigned on a mission and it lasts far longer than he intended to be there, the task cutting into time he could be spending with you, or even when other people serve as a nuisance to you. you have never, ever been on the list of things that get on his nerves, and he doesn’t think you ever will be.

that’s why he feels such guilt when he starts to feel that familiar sense of annoyance bubbling in his chest when you keep asking him to let you know about his plans for the weekend.

you’ve asked him numerous times at this point, and he has given you the same answer: he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with his brother or when he’ll be home, and that he’d let you know as soon as he figures it out. but you know that by the time he ‘figures it out’ it will be past the time you need to plan around his absence.

you’re an organized person, and you like to know in advance what is happening in your boyfriend’s life so that you can either prepare to spend some time with him or not waste the effort looking forward to doing so if he will be out late. this is especially a big deal to you because choso tends to get carried away when spending time with his little brother. the brunette loves his family so dearly, and you have always admired how fiercely he cares for those close to him, but his tendency to just go along with whatever yuji’s hyper mind thinks of on the spot without having the sense to think of how it will impact his brother’s girlfriend yet always gets to you.

you want choso to spend time with his brother, you do, but you just wish that he would have the decency of letting you in on what he plans to do on the days they are together more often.

therefore, it is friday and you continue to ask him to let you know what the plans are, and choso, still not completely understanding of what you want, is growing tired of the nagging.

“i already told you, love,” he reasons as best as he can with you, his voice dipping lower. “i don’t know how long we’ll be out. i promise you i’ll let you know.”

you’re moving about the kitchen while choso stands at the corner, eyes heavy as he watches you. he’s trying his hardest to mask his growing agitation, for he knows that you are very keen on picking up on his tells that reveal his emotions. when he’s aggravated, his brows angle ever so slightly and his lids weigh over bored vision, his lips curled in a frown.

you haven’t looked at him yet. your back is to him as your rummage through your fridge. “yeah, cho, you said that already, and you say that every time you go out,” you close the fridge door, carton of eggs in your hand for you to prepare lunch.

“and i always come back,” he says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t understand what the problem is… i’d never stay out all night without coming back.”

“it’s not about you coming back or not, it’s about when you come back,” you try to explain, placing the eggs on the counter to turn and reaching to grab a bowl. “i’ve definitely talked about this before, right? sometimes i stay up for you or want to hang out with you when you get back, but you never give me an estimated time when you’re with your brother so i can plan around it.”

choso exhales through his nose slowly, looking down. “the point is that if i knew, i’d tell you…”

you look up, catching the dipped pitch in his tone, and tilt your head to the side upon taking in his stature. he’s pouting.

you stop what your doing, pressing your hands to the ledge of the other side of the counter and leaning over with a suspicious look.

“are you alright?” you ask slowly.

choso meets your eye, a hint of a deer in in headlights look capturing him. “yes,” he says stiffly, quickly, and you are not convinced whatsoever.

“you sure? because your face says otherwise,” you nod toward him.

conflict is pretty foreign to the two of you within your relationship. neither of you ever want to upset the other, so in tiptoeing around certain issues, a lot of them are either brushed over and pent up. choso specifically things it’s damn near a sin to be upset with you, and you him, for he still does not understand certain inner workings of human connections.

he does not want to ruin what he has with you, and he does not comprehend why he is growing annoyed with someone he cherishes so much. he still loves you, but he can’t help this feeling. it burdens him with guilt, and he does not know how to respond once you catch him.

“is something bothering you?” you ask carefully. “are you upset because i keep asking about this weekend?”

choso doesn’t respond. he feels like it’s a trap, for he would never lie to you but to admit that he’s annoyed is an entirely different ball park that he is horrified to step into. he looks at you shamefully, face still tense but he’s trying hard to relax, to mask the way he truly feels.

you raise a brow. “…choso?”

“i’m fine,” he tells you. once again, he’s answering far too quickly.

“okay,” you exhale, shifting on your feet. choso watches you anxiously, keeping incredibly still as though moving will make the earth shatter. “I know you really well, cho. clearly the conversation is bothering you.” after another moment of silence from your boyfriend, you continue. “you can be honest with me, or else you’ll just be carrying this around with you all day.”

“…i don’t wanna upset you,” he eventually murmurs.

“I understand, but that’s not realistic,” you say with subtle sternness in your tone. “just like it’s not realistic to pretend like you aren’t upset right now when i can clearly tell you are. we both have rights to feeling whatever we feel, so just… come on, tell me what’s going on.”

with a pensive expression, choso slowly allows himself to give in. “it’s just that…” he begins hesitantly. “i’m not really sure what you want me to tell you anymore. about my plans.”

“i'm not asking anything out of the question, i just want you to plan more for my sake.”

“but i keep repeating myself when i tell you that yuji and i don’t plan… it’s a little…”

“it’s a little what?”

“just… kind of… annoying.”

you reel, staring at choso incredulously. you never thought you would have seen the day where your sweet significant other, horrified of touching you the wrong way, would call you annoying. admittedly, you’re a little wounded. you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet choso is aggravated by your desire to simply know what time he’s coming home. you’re not asking for too much. you hardly believe you’re asking for anything at all. you know that choso can be irrational, but never with you. never like this.

you nod to yourself slowly, pursing your lips. choso eyes you carefully, uncertain of how his own words have landed. you wanted him to be honest, and this is how he’s feeling. should he have just lied? should he have kept it to himself anyway?

suddenly, you resume what you are doing and turn away from choso wordlessly. the violet eyed man’s eyes widen as you go searching for a pan, and air of intensity about you.

“(y/n)?” he says your name cautiously after a while of you shuffling about. “you okay?”

“it’s cool,” you respond shortly, and choso shrinks.

he moves to round the counter to approach you slowly, but you do not slow yourself when you notice him moving into the kitchen beside you. “i don’t think it is…”

“choso, i know how you feel now and that’s that. i’ll leave it be.”

you sound mad. choso doesn’t like it at all, and he’s unsure of how to even speak to you this way. he doesn’t want to further ruin your mood, but he has to make sure you’re alright… that he didn’t cross some sort of line.

“i’m sorry,” he hastily apologizes. “I wasn’t trying to make things worse.”

“don’t apologize for what you feel,” you strictly say, moving to the other side of the kitchen the second choso gets close to you.

he stops, his traces of annoyance having completely washed away. “but you’re mad now.”

“i’m not mad, i just- i’m a little annoyed too now.”

he deflates. “oh,” he mumbles, hands falling to his sides. “then, what do what do now?”

you exhale, taking a moment to pause and turn to face choso from the other side of the space. “i wanna talk about why i’m irritated.”

“okay… and that won’t make it worse?”

“no, because i’ll at least be getting my point across.”

he nods dejectedly. “alright. why are you upset?”

“because you won’t take a second to put yourself in my shoes and understand that planning for my sake now that we live together will help ease my anxiety,” you explain, your hand moving about as you emphasize your stance. “i don’t care how long you and yuji are out. that’s not the point, and i know you don’t plan, but I’m asking you to at least start to, because i get tired of falling asleep waiting for you because i don’t know when you’re coming home. if i knew in advance, i wouldn’t have to stay up or get my hopes up about you coming back at a certain time. and then you tell me that i’m annoying you because i just want to be informed. like, that’s a little rude, choso. it’s basically like you saying you don’t care what i ask for.”

“i do care,” he cuts in passionately, brows knitted with a look of guilted sadness. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know it was like that for you.”

“because you never bothered to ask.”

“i’m sorry,” he says again. “i shouldn’t have called you annoying. that was mean. you just… told me to be honest, so i said what i was thinking.”

“that’s another thing, choso, we’re not perfect. we’re people and we react to things differently. this isn’t the last time we’ll be annoyed with each other.”

“i don’t like that,” he grumbles.

“we don’t have to like it, but that’s just how things are. it doesn’t mean we love each other any less, and we’re not always going to agree on why we’re annoyed with one another.”

“…are we fighting?”

you scoff a slight, tired laugh and shake your head. “no, we’re not fighting. we’re just talking.”

“okay,” he nods. “well, i’m sorry. i am. i’ll try to do better about planning for you. and you’re not annoying, (y/n). i love you.”

you soften. “i love you too, cho, just please be more mindful of how you react sometimes.”

“i will,” he mumbles. “…can i… i mean, is it wrong to ask you for a hug or do you need some time?”

“come over here,” you beckon him over. the brunette is quick to comply, stepping heavily over to you and burying his face in your neck. you wrap your arms around his frame as he holds you, murmuring numerous apologies to you over and over in your ear.

“maybe i’ll just stay home,” he suggests, mumbling into your skin.

“you don’t need to do that, cho, that’s not what i was asking of you.”

“i know, but i’d rather stay in with you anyway. or maybe we can make it a group thing if you want to come with.”

“i’ll see how i feel this weekend, but that’s sounds great, baby. thank you.”

toji fushiguro:

toji has a habit of getting caught up in his stress accumulated from the day. he’ll return home grumpily, muscles twitching and lips tight in a scowl. his back aches and his head hurts, and all he wants to do is crawl up into bed with you and snooze for the rest of the night.

of course, this isn’t always plausible. life presents its daily interferences that throw off his plans of laziness with the woman he loves, and sometimes, the woman he loves herself is the very thing standing in the way of his tranquility.

you don’t do so on purpose. while toji leads his life of chaos and crime, you busy yourself with your own less illegal tasks, and those tasks and your desires by the end of the day don’t always match his. and toji, despite how wholly he loves you, has the unintentional tendency to be selfish, for it’s how he’s lived his whole life before meeting you.

and that tendency especially shines through when his mind is clouded by exhaustion. if he wants you to lay still with him for the rest of the night, why can’t he? why the hell do you have to run out to the store instead? or finish up an assignment that takes an extra hour and a half to complete? or try to talk to him about your day when he just wants peace and quiet in your wordless physical presence?

it ticks him off, and he’s already moody enough before he comes home to realize that he is not going to get what his mind and heart have been set on for hours. he tries his best not to take things out on you when he is in a healthy, normal conscious state, but he can not help it at the worst of times. before he knows it, he’s snapping at you all because you wanted to show him an album of pictures you came across during your visit to your parents today.

“oh!” you gasp excitedly, leaning into toji’s shoulder as you lounge with him on the bed, your phone presenting itself to his face. you’re propped up with your back to the headboard while toji is laid flat against the pillow with a sour expression. “and this one is from halloween when i was eleven! holy shit, look at my braces! damn, they really threw off the whole costume. i still look cute though, don't i?"

toji doesn't know how you haven't noticed his lack of response as you swipe through photo after photo, your voice a blabber of nonsense in his ear as he closes his eyes in vexation. he can feel himself nearing his last straw as you shift your entire conversation enthusiastically, diving into some story about your family that is hardly related to the pictures you have been sharing.

the dark-haired man is so tired, so fed up with noise and the questions you ask him that you do not even wait for him to respond to before you're cutting in and rambling on again - not that toji even would have responded.

he just wants to sleep... you're still going on, and he wants to sleep.

"and then there was the time that i-"

you're interrupted by a loud groan and the run of toji's large hands down his face. you falter, lowering your phone and furrowing your brows at him slightly, your smile dwindling upon finally taking note of toji's body language.

silence stills the room while toji keeps his hands concealing his face and you simply watch him, stunned.

"uh..." you start pensively, confused. "...why did you just-"

"for the love of christ, girl, can you be quiet for one second?" he interjects once more with the tear of his hands away from his face and the strike of his weary, tense eyes into yours.

you jump. "what?" is all you can ask, awed by the way your boyfriend just spoke to you.

"i had a long day, (y/n). the fuck don't you understand about that?"

your face is scrunching in offense now, your body retracting and your energy transitioning into dejected anger. "toji, why the hell are you talking to me like that?"

"cause you've been workin' my last nerve since i got home," he grits out, tense hands swiping the air. you stare at him with wide eyes. "i'm fuckin' tired. i don't wanna come home to you talkin' my ear off about shit i don't care about. just let me sleep, alright?"

you clamp your mouth shut, a lump forming in your throat and a pit swirling in your chest as you take in toji's hurtful words. his face is hard as he awaits a response from you, and you can do nothing but look at him pathetically, completely torn apart by how swiftly he had made you feel as though you are a burden to him.

you had not meant to interfere with his rest time. you thought he was resting by sitting cozily in bed with you. you thought that he would enjoy seeing pictures of you from the past, hearing about old memories that you revive for the sake of his enjoyment. hell, you would have enjoyed it if the roles were reversed and toji was sharing his childhood memories with you after a long day (if of course, his childhood had been a bit more positive).

you understand that you may have misread the situation, but there was no need for toji to be so cruel to you about it. you hate when he gets like this, so rigid and ruthless with his tone and his words that it makes you feel as though he wants nothing to do with you.

you fight the urge to cry, your body tensing as you swallow hard. you tear your eyes from toji's face, the vision alone scarring you as his words seep in. the green-eyed man watches you shut off your phone swiftly and tuck it carelessly into your pocket with a scoff.

he quirks his brow in befuddlement now as you push yourself off the mattress and cooly whisk yourself around the furniture and to the bedroom door. he pushes himself up, for he didn't want you to leave. he just wanted silence.

"where're you goin'?" he asks as though you have no reason to storm off. you halt in the doorway, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him with glassy eyes.

"to give you your space," you hissed. "after all, i don't want to 'work your last nerve' any more than i already have."

toji can tell by the glossiness of your gaze and the tremble of your voice that he fucked up. he sighs heavily, swiping a hand over his hair. "i ain't mean it like that-" he tries to defend himself, but you have none of it.

"sure you did, toji. or else you wouldn't have said it," you growl. "it's fine. really. you can be an asshole all by yourself while i'm gone. maybe you'll be able to sleep now that your girlfriend is out of the way."

you leave with a slam to the door, the walls shaking in your wake, and toji stares at the wall harshly. the overwhelming silence now envelopes him, the silence that he had been longing for since you started talking, and now that he has it, it doesn't feel right.

he curses to himself, scratching the back of his head. he shouldn't have snapped at you. all you had been doing was sharing something close to your heart with him, and he completely blew you off. it wasn't as though you were the source of his stress - it was his job, yet he reacted in such a way to make it feel as though you were the problem.

fuck. toji knows he has issues with regulating his anger, but he continues to swear that he will work on leaving you out of it, and yet here he is again, mulling over the after-effects of dragging you into his acidity once more.

he's not even tired anymore. he tries to doze off, but all he can think about is your face and how he hurt you.

when he steps out of his room, he finds that you are nowhere to be found in his apartment. he tries calling you, but you don't pick up. he resorts to texting you, asking where you are. you read the messages, but refuse to answer, ensuring that he knows you're pissed off.

he shakes his head and goes to check your location instead, which he is grateful to find that you haven't shut off. he knows you too well. you want him to chase after you and apologize, to put forth the effort that you at times feel he would not extend for your sake.

toji finds you at a bar around the corner, your chin propped in your hand as you stare ahead over the counter emptily with an untouched drink before you. you're slumped in your seat with your phone tucked under your hand, appearing so sad before him, and toji feels his heart ache knowing that he's the reason you look like this.

"go away," you grumble when you see his bulky figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye, not even bothering to look his way. the fushiguro leans his forearm against the counter beside you with his other hand propped on his hip. he tilts his head down to try to catch a glimpse of your face, and you simply turn away stubbornly.

"c'mon doll," he attempts to coax. "don't be mad."

"don't fucking tell me not to be mad, you dick."

toji drops his head. bad start. "listen," he begins, unsure of how to proceed. he has never been good with finding words in these situations. "i shouldn't've said what i said."

you turn to scour at him. "no shit."

he wants to chuckle at how angry you are, for you start cursing up a storm the way toji does on a daily basis, and he finds it rather endearing how quick you are to violate him with your language when he gets on your bad side.

toji doesn't realize that the skin beneath his eyes is creasing a the corner of his lip is tugging upward, for you're gaping at him and smacking his chest rather aggressively. "you think this is funny?"

"no, (y/n), i don't think it's funny," he chuckles, and you fume. you go to slam a few bills onto the table before jumping up from your stool and storming away. toji panics, reaching out and snatching up your arm in his grasp. you're tugged back to him against your wishes, fiery (e/c) hues seething into him as though you seek to kill him with your gaze. "stop, i'm tryna talk to you for a second."

"clearly you think my feelings are a joke to you, toji."

"i don't think that, doll, you know that."

"do i?" you raise your brows. "i wasn't so sure when you talked to me like i was nothing but a nuisance to you."

you go to tug away, but toji holds you to him, looking into your eye intensely. "you ain't a nuisance."

"then why talk to me like that?" you frown. "i wasn't even doing anything to hurt you, i was just trying to share something with you."

"i know baby," he softens, hand coming to cup over your neck. you turn away, leading him to smooth his hand over the back of your head instead as you look off to the side bitterly. "it wasn't you, it was my day-"

"i don't care," you huff. "you can't blame the way you treat people on shitty days - especially the way you treat me! i'm the person in this world who loves you, toji. if you need me to reel in on something, then just say that respectfully, but don't you dare go yelling at me the way you just did. it hurts my feelings."

toji sighs, looking over your face and caressing your hair. "i know, doll, m'sorry," he mumbles. "shouldn't be taking my shit out on you. you ain't ever done a single thing bad to me."

"yeah, you prick," you bite, and toji lets himself smile. "and stop smiling," you push against his chest. "nothing's fucking funny."

"you're right. nothin's funny at all," he agrees. "m'just happy i got a girl who knows how to fight back when i'm bein' an asshole."

"oh, what the fuck ever," you roll your eyes. "you're lucky i don't chop your balls off and hang them on display in the living room."

"nah, i much prefer you gettin' mean with me." he moves to cup your neck again, and this time you allow him, a pretty pout still on your face. "i deserve it."

"you sure as hell do..."

he chuckles, smirk spreading. "c'mere, doll," he pulls you into him, securing his arms around your frame and pressing you to his chest. you ease into him reluctantly, glowering off to the side as your check squishes into his pectoral. you don't hug back, for toji's biceps crush over you and trap your arms within his embrace as he rocks you slowly. "what can i do to make up for it?"

"go jump off a bridge," you mutter, body relaxing into his warmth as his chest rumbles with laughter against you.

ryomen sukuna:

sukuna belittling you with his words has never been anything new to you. while you understand that you withhold a space of softness in his heart that is reserved for you and you only, at times his comfortability with insulting you can go a bit far.

and of course, you’re used to it. he calls you “brat” and “woman” as though you are a nuisance to him when in reality, you are the only person on this planet he has bestowed those names upon with his own definition of affection. he clicks his teeth and rolls his eyes at you when you talk about something that he wants you to believe is of little interest to him, when he is taking mental note of the things you enjoy talking about so that he can suffocate you with your desires long after you have presented a specific like to his attention. and of course, he tells you you are an aggravation to his soul every damn two seconds, as though loving you brings him stress after eons of having lived so freely and ruthlessly - though he still does, your presence does more to ease him into a state of mellowness than anything has prior to his commitment to you.

he very clearly welcomes the feeling and connection to you, but masks so by calling you annoying. all the time. so of course, when he does normally, you are completely desensitized to it.

unless you’re already irritated.

occasionally, there is only so much of sukuna you can handle. you love him to death, but the two of you butt heads so often due to your stubborn natures and unwillingness to allow the other to win that it tends to wear you down after a while. sukuna calls you disrespectful for even talking back, yet allows you to continue to do so as if he gets off on the way you get snippy with him.

it’s entertaining to the lord, after all. why would he spend his time doting on someone boring?

nevertheless, if you’ve had a long day and are in no mood to deal with sukuna’s rather wide range of complex reactions to even the smallest of things that you do, his habits tick you off - especially so when he calls you annoying for something that you feel is anything but.

so as you complain to sukuna about how he needs to be mindful of how many sheets he’s running through by staining them with blood when he carelessly returns to your shared bedroom from yet another colorful expedition, you're peeved by the way he stares at you so carelessly. you’ve been begging him forever to be more mindful of how he treats his belongings, especially now that you share the same things, but he always brushes your concerns aside by saying that he can just get more. but god forbid someone else were to stain his sheets, then he’d be out for blood.

his arms are crossed as he stands before you, eyes rolling over the ceiling as he makes his agitation rather evident. you’re a little thing in comparison to him, yammering on about the tenth set of sheets he has stained this month, but he wants to hear none of it. why is it such a big deal to you anyway? he has thousands of servants and limitless access to resources, so it shouldn’t matter to you whatsoever. besides, you’ve stained numerous sheets of his over the years with your arousal and he’s never complained. why does it all of a sudden hold importance to you what state his belongings are in now?

“would you quit your moaning, woman?” he snarls, overpowering voice speaking over you. his eyes are hard and slim as they stare over you, and you’re bubbling with rage the moment he cuts into what you’re saying. “it is not of relevance to me, so why is it of any relevance to you?”

“because it is, sukuna! why do you only hold value to the things you care about? we share a bed, obviously i’m affected by this too!” you argue.

“you are not a servant. servants concern themselves over such things.”

“oh, so now i’m beneath you for talking about this?”

sukuna groans. “i did not say that, brat.”

“yeah, but you insinuated it!” you retort. “i’m tired, sukuna, i wasn’t trying to make this a big thing.”

“yet you are attempting to by persisting so irritatingly.”

you throw your hands up, at your wit’s end. why does he never listen to you when there is something on your mind? why does he always push aside what you feel matters when he decides it doesn’t matter to him? why is he always so cold with you, so steely and headstrong as though he remains above you like you haven’t been by his side all this time?

you know how sukuna is, and yet him calling your opinions irritating riles you up in this moment. everything has to turn into an argument, and it weighs you down. nothing can ever run smoothly without sukuna taking offense or scoffing at the idea of you coming to him with something you feel should be fixed. you can’t win.

"seriously?" you plead. "i mean, really, i'm irritating because i don't want to sleep in blood every night?"

"christ, you don't sleep in blood. the sheets are changed before you come to rest!" he barks. "that is why i find this so annoying. you are complaining for nothing."

"you know what? you're annoying!" you point a finger to his broad chest. the king of curses lifts a brow, looking down at where your finger prods into him.

"i beg your pardon?" an amused, low chuckle ripples through him as though the sentiment is unheard of, which only pisses you off even more.

"you heard me. you're the fucking annoying one. you're always going on about how i shouldn't talk back, or how everything i feel doesn't make sense, or how the things i want don't matter because you don't want them! you act like you're so far above me, when i'm the only one sleeping in bed with you, sitting on your throne, supporting your psycho-ass ambitions - but i'm the irritating one, right? your girlfriend is such a pain in the ass, isn't she? for caring about your wellbeing and loving you when nobody else will?"

the salmon-haired king's eyes go dull as you shout at him, fury raging in your eyes as you continue to poke at him. you're playing with fire, but you don't care. you're fed up with the pretending, with the sly comments about your intelligence as a human being and the value of your interests.

"woman-"

"shut up! i'm not done."

oh. you've really lost it now, haven't you?

normally, sukuna would have made it a point to silence you and teach you a lesson by now, but for some reason, he's feeling generous. slightly intrigued by your outburst, he lets you go on with a domineering smirk.

"i don't care of you're the king of curses, or if you could kill me with the snap of your fingers, or if you've got thousands of people who bow down to you without a second thought like mindless sheep-"

"you are not those people."

"exactly!" you agree without thinking, and sukuna's smirk brightens. "i'm not! so stop- stop treating me like i am! stop talking to me like i'm unimportant and like i get on your nerves more than i do anything good for you! stop blowing me off because you don't know how to empathize! i'm your girlfriend. i care about you, and i also care about the state of your things which you always make a point to say are mine too- and fucking sue me if i'm tired of walking into your room after a long day to see blood stains from random ass civilians while your servants work to replace them in the next hour! what if i wanna lay down before then, huh? ever thought about that?

"god, i just wish you'd care! is that so hard for you to do, sukuna? to care about me and what i care about? i didn't wanna argue with you, but you make it so damn hard for me not to lose my mind! you never hear me talk about how much you drive me crazy, and you drive me crazy every damn day of the week!"

"is that so?" he pries, slyly.

"yes!"

"i implore you, tell me more about how i drive you crazy."

"have you not been listening to anything i've-?!" you freeze, reconnecting with the moment to look in sukuna's eye and see how he is enjoying listening to your rant. you stop, stepping back and lifting your finger from his chest. you breathe in and out deeply, worked up by your own emotion, and you finally take a second to realize what you have been doing. "you're mocking me," you conclude.

"i am doing no such thing."

you scoff. "whatever, sukuna. just forget it. sorry i'm so irritating to you."

you go to walk off, but sukuna is already wrapping a set of arms around you, tugging you back to his chest. you grit your teeth, peering up over your shoulder to look back and find the demon grinning down at you teasingly.

"you need to relax," he muses.

"don't fucking tell me to relax, sukuna, i'm already pissed off."

"mm. i can see that, and in feeling so you have forgotten who you are speaking to."

"see, this is what i'm talking about! i'm not your servant-"

"yes, yes, i know. it was hard not to catch what you were saying during your little tantrum."

"fuck you," you groan, moving to push away. sukuna tightens his grip, winding his arms securely over your stomach and pressing you to his chest. "sukuna," you whine.

"stop taking everything so personally," he ducks down to speak into your ear over your left shoulder. you jerk, turning your head in the direction of his voice. "you are fully aware that you are not the same as everybody else. if you were, you would not be so mouthy."

"yeah, well it's hard to tell what you think sometimes when you call me annoying all the damn time. if you want me to leave you alone, just say that and i can stop wasting my time."

"enoughhh," he hisses. "you must stop taking things so far."

"and you must stop being so mean," you mimic his speech.

sukuna snorts. "do not worry about the sheets. i will retreat elsewhere after massacres if it while cease your whining."

"oh, how lucky i am," you click your teeth.

"quite so," he turns in to press his lips to the space under your jaw. "if you were anyone else-"

"i'd be dead," you finish, involuntarily leaning into him though your face is still tense. "no one else should be in your bed anyway, you know."

"that is why no one ever will."

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

cupid's chokehold

pairing: damnation! leon x reader

tags/cws: ddlg, free use, spit kink

summary: leon is reluctant to try ddlg... until he's not

a/n: can you tell I wrote this one for me?

div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.8k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @faysslut @leonfucker3000 @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

Leon wasn't so keen on the idea at first.

"I can't decide if I'm too old or too young for this."

He's too old to play games but too young for fatherhood. He's a grouch with an aching back but a stubbornness that makes him insist on doing everything himself. That's pretty fatherly, isn't it?

Plus, he's already fairly dominant in bed, and can get kind of kinky if he gets drunk enough, but most of that comes down to one of you putting something in the other person's ass.

It's not like he can control how you act. You can watch cartoons in your cute PJs holding your favorite stuffed animal. It's up to him to play along.

Maybe it's an innate male desire, maybe it's some fucked up part of his brain, maybe it's just you. You and your cute little outfits and your pretty smile on your adorable face that lights up whenever he enters the room.

He sits down on the couch next to you. "What are you up to, baby?" he asks softly with his face nuzzled into your neck.

"Watching a show," you say, pointing to the TV.

"Yeah? Is it good?"

"It's okay, but I've already seen this one."

"So, you wouldn't mind taking a little break?"

You understand the implication. He's already riled up, so you figure it can't hurt to say it, he'd probably be more susceptible to your charm in this state. And, if he doesn't like it, you can just play it off as a joke.

"Okay, daddy." You give him the sweetest, doe-eyed look.

He sighs — not at you but at his hardening dick for forcing him to admit that he enjoys this.

"Taking you to bed then, baby girl," he says, as he lifts you up and carries you to the bedroom, depositing you on the bed.

You have hearts in your eyes when you look at him, seeing Daddy, rather than Leon. And in that moment, Leon knows he's fucked. His head, dizzy from the surge of blood downward, leads him astray, leads him straight into the role of daddy.

Leon does the best he can, he takes it in stride. In the coming days, he finds that the playing the part of 'daddy' leaves a lot of room for ad libbing as daddy is the one who makes all the rules. Daddies just have to take care of their babies, you tell him when he asks what the fuck he's supposed to be doing. That's a pretty broad instruction, it gives Leon a lot of leeway to do as he wishes.

Leon plays gently but he does not play nice. He teases you relentlessly and makes you beg until you can't anymore, until your brain goes blank. Finally, he gives into your wishes, which are identical to his.

He holds onto your thighs while he fucks you deep and slow, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You look up at him with nothing behind your eyes, no thoughts, just arousal dripping from your cunt.

Even the word 'daddy' eventually disappears from your vocabulary and all that you have left is breathy moans.

Leon states the obvious, "I think I fucked you stupid, baby."

Of course, you nod— not that you consciously agree with his statement, you'd agree to anything, and Leon knows that.

"I bet you'd do anything for daddy, huh? I bet you'd let me spit in your mouth if I asked."

It isn't as off-handed a remark as he'd like for you to believe it is. He'd been wanting to do this for quite some time but thought you might see it as degrading (and, not in a good way).

You don't answer verbally — instead, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. An enthusiastic yes. So, Leon leans in close, gathers up all the saliva in his mouth and lets it drip into your mouth.

You swallow. Hot. You smile. Adorable. You open your mouth again and stick your tongue out asking for him to do it again. Irresistible.

"What's the magic word?" he asks, pouding into you harder. The facade of his control is slipping, he's desperate, panting from the exertion it takes to fuck you this hard while making sure he doesn't cum prematurely.

"Please, daddy," you whine as he continues railing you hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall.

He only slows down to oblige with your request.

After swallowing, you thank him. His breath hitches in response. He never thought the words "thank you" could affect him so much. It's more than that, though. Your arousal is doubled by seeing Leon being overcome with his, and your pussy tightening around him pulls an unmistakable groan from deep in his chest.

"Baby," he says, tone filled with urgency, "Where do you want daddy to cum?"

"Inside," you say, looking at him with pure desire in your eyes.

It's like an override button. He should not cum inside you. Leon usually insists on using a condom or pulling out. You're on birth control, but he doesn't take his chances. Until now. Now, he rattles off pure filth while you babble nonsense until he fills you to the brim.

From that night forward, it becomes a thing between the two of you - not all the time, but sometimes. Often enough that Leon feels gross about it.

This cannot go any further than it has. Do you expect him to buy you baby toys and spoon-feed you using plastic utensils? How would he explain that to his friends if they ever came over?

"But you like it, daddy," you say, kicking your legs, which are spread just enough that he can see you're not wearing anything underneath your oversized t-shirt.

"It stays in the bedroom. It's not up for debate."

"But what if I want to have sex on the couch or in the shower?"

"Good girls take what they're given, and don't complain."

"Daddy," you whine, egging him on, sure, but also genuinely frustrated at his insistence on keeping this in the literal bedroom.

His gaze hardens, his mouth draws a flat line and he says, "You're not getting anything tonight."

"No, no, no, please, daddy, I promise-"

"No. You're lucky I'm not punishing you."

"This is punishment! I need you so bad."

"That's too bad."

You're upset already but it's nothing compared to the feeling you get when you watch Leon pull his dick out and begin to jerk himself off. You're jealous of his own hand somehow.

"Please, please, can I help? I just wanna touch it."

He doesn't say anything, just takes your hand in his and jerks himself off, managing to use you like a toy without even giving you any pleasure. He doesn't even look at you while he does it — or at least, he doesn't look at you when he thinks you'll catch him, but how can he not look? Especially when you're the one he's getting off to. Yeah, he's thinking about you alright. Thinking about you calling him 'daddy', about how much you love it and how much he pretends to hate it.

"Leon," you whine, dropping the 'daddy' thing in the hopes that it'll convince him.

Finally, he looks at you, and if dropping the whole 'daddy' thing will get you his attention, then you'll do it. But that's not what he wants, he's in too deep, he left 'Leon' behind with the first stroke of his cock.

"Leon? Is that what you call me when we do this?"

"No." You shake your head and pout like you're disappointed in yourself. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"I know you're sorry. That's why you're gonna make it up to daddy."

He lets go of your hand, but he's finished ignoring you. Playtime is in session.

"You're gonna let daddy use that pretty pussy instead of your hand, baby."

"No bad words, daddy," you mumble.

"You're right. Wouldn't wanna set a bad example for my baby girl, would I? You're gonna let daddy use your princess parts."

You try to suppress a smile. Sex is a win-win game. But, you have to pretend it's punishment for the sake of the backwards logic that's gotten you this far, right? Maybe, maybe not. Leon winks at you, unable to hide under the 'disappointed daddy' mask when he's the type of guy who gets giddy about sex.

"How 'bout you keep watching your show?"

Oh, yeah. That thing you'd completely forgotten about the moment Leon entered the room.

"Okay," you agree, knowing that you getting your way is Leon getting his way, and vice versa.

You grab the remote and press play, resuming the stupid cartoon you'd seen a million times before. Leon sits you down on his lap and wastes no time burying himself inside you.

You whimper at the sensation, and try to shift your body so that you're facing him. You want to press your face to his chest. You want to sob into his t-shirt as he drags his cock in and out.

"Mm-mm," he says. "You don't wanna miss your show. I'm not gonna pause it, baby."

You don't give a flying fuck about the show. It's not even a good episode. But the idea of Leon taking what he wants from you like this is too hot to pass up so you have to play along. Really, you can't pay attention to anything because your mind goes blank, the TV is still on but your brain turns to static.

Leon takes your hips and moves you up and down slowly, agonizingly so, at first. It feels like forever, but you know if you whine about it, it'll take even longer for him to give in and go faster.

When he finally does increase the pace, he refuses to touch your clit. You can't cum like this despite the fact that it feels so good it makes you cry. You snake your own hand down between your legs and try to touch yourself, hoping he won't notice, but of course he does — all he's thinking about is you right now. He pulls your hand away, and he doesn't even need to scold you to get his point across. Tears roll down your cheeks, both at the overwhelming sensation and at the fact that he's denying your pleasure. (Though, secretly, you love it just as much when daddy is a little mean.)

He can't see your face but he can hear your sniffles, so he reassures you, "you're doin' so good for daddy, baby, just a few more minutes and then you'll get what you want."

After he cums — inside you, of course — he flips you onto your back and his head finds its way between your thighs. He kisses your inner thighs and says, "you did so good, baby. Now it's your turn."

He turns the TV off and drops the remote on the floor next to the couch. "I want you to focus on feeling good now."

His grip on your hips is soothing yet firm as he dives in to taste you - and, inadvertently, himself. You can barely make out his mumbled praises.

"You're so perfect", "You taste so good", "I'm so proud of you".

And then he stops talking completely because you push his head into your core to shut him up. You can feel him laugh, but you can't hear it. All you can hear is your own moans as your orgasm hits you.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

"I thought I couldn't call you that outside of the bedroom. Did you change the rules, daddy?"

He scoffs. The rules have always been this way, baby girl.

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, non - con, pet play, victim - blaming

Eric laid it out since day one - you can be his lover or his pet, and it all depends on you and your behaviour. But you don’t believe him - you push at his chest and you turn your head when he tries to brush his lips against yours. You squirm when he wraps his big, muscled arms around you, and your lips pucker in denial when he tries to feed you. But what’s even worse, what really makes him tick, is when you try to run - when you wait for him to cross the threshold, all soft and doe - eyed as you finally, finally let him kiss you goodbye. When you act like a good fucking girl for once, just so he can let his guard down and forget to lock the door. 

You don’t make it far. You spend approximately thirty seconds in blissful unawareness, having the sun caress your naked skin for the first time in months, the birds chirp and tweet, spring is in the air… And then the alarm goes off, triggered by the tracker installed in your shoulder.

It’s all your fault, really, Eric says. You could have everything. You could have a hot breakfast in bed and hundreds of kisses adoring your warm body. He could take a shower with you every day before work, carefully washing your hair, thoroughly rubbing the sweet flowery shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp just like a husband would for his wife. He could adore you with his whole being. He could make love to you, softly, gently - slowly working you to wet ecstasy with his fingers and tongue before he finally takes you on your back just so he can look at your face lovingly the whole time. 

You could be his equal, he reminds you. You could have all these teeth rooting - sweet, painfully domestic moments - when he hugs you from behind as you bake a pie, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhales your lovely cinnamon aroma. When you fall asleep in the middle of a movie and he sighs with unhidden tenderness, carrying you to the bedroom - careful not to wake you up from your adorable, peaceful sleep. When you grow old together, thirty years from now, and he still remembers to buy you your favourite newsletter along with your coffee, the one with the double sudoku pages.

But you won’t, and he won’t, because you fucked up. You decided you needed less than him - less than his love. And that’s fine by him, he still loves you. He could never stop loving you, and if you want him to play the villain, if you want him to be your cruel master - for him to shorten your leash, who’s he to deny you? 

So he buys a thick pink collar with his initials on it and the most adorable heart - shaped pillow which he lays by his office chair. You stare at it, dumbfounded, unsure what he means by all that - yet Eric is anything if not clear in his intentions. He drags you in by the hair, kicking, screaming and all, shoving you towards what he calls your new home. You feel your eyes prick with hot, humiliating tears, growing even more puzzled. But your captor just coos at you understandingly, patting your head as if you’re a wild animal, as he explains that, if you really want to act like a bitch, he has no problem treating you like one.

He has no problem fucking you instead of making love to you, knees spread far and wide apart in the air, almost reaching your chest as he plows into you with little consideration for your pain aside from a chuckle here and a pinch there. He can live without kissing your soft, beautiful lips if it means he still gets to bite and squeeze and abuse any warm flesh available. He can bear not hearing your breathless voice sing him praises if you can still scream and cry for him just as prettily - when you bruise and mark just as darkly, when you let him grip and grope you just as possessively. 

And when you whine and sob, asking him if he still loves you - and if he does, how he lives with hurting you so, he reminds you that this is the path you chose yourself. After all, he doesn’t need to be a lover, not when you refuse to hold your end of the deal. He just needs to love you, even if that love ends up crushing you. 

[misspygmypie]

What's That Brush For?

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Lando is fascinated by your morning makeup routine :) Words: 765

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with fascination as you meticulously applied your makeup. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow that made the whole process feel even more intimate. The Brit had been standing there for a good five minutes, observing you while you were pulling your hair into a high ponytail, without saying a single word. 

As you had moved on to doing your makeup for the day he just kept watching, mesmerized, as you skillfully blended foundation and brushed on eyeshadow with precise movements.

“Wow,” he said, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with awe. “I never realized how much goes into this. What’s that brush for?”

You watched as he picked up the little tool and looked at it wide-eyed, bopping its soft bristles with his index finger before bringing it up to his eyes and inspecting it closely.

You glanced up to your boyfriend. “This is a blending brush. It helps smooth out the eyeshadow so there are no harsh lines in between the colors.”

Lando nodded, clearly enthralled by the whole situation. “Can I try? I mean, I probably won’t get it right, but it looks like fun.”

You smiled at him, amused by his enthusiasm. “Sure, give it a go. Just be gentle and please don’t poke my eye out, I kind of still need it.”

“Shut up, you muppet, as if I was that clumsy…” he gave you a sour look and you chuckled, remembering some moments he definitely had been that clumsy.

As he carefully tried his hand at blending the different powders on your eyelid he asked, “Does it always take this long? I feel like I’m messing it up.”

“Practice makes perfect,” you reassured him, watching as his concentration intensified, his tongue now poking out of his mouth making him way more adorable than should be allowed. “It takes time to get the hang of it. And don’t worry, you’re doing fine,” you ensured him after a quick glance into the mirror.

He looked at the result and grinned, a mixture of pride and humor in his expression. “This is really cool. I had no idea it was such an art form. How did you learn all this?”

You laughed softly, appreciating his genuine interest which is something you never would have expected. But then again, this was Lando and he always was full of surprises. “A lot of trial and error, plus some tutorials online. It’s like anything else, practice and patience.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with enthusiasm. “Maybe I should start learning more. Who knows, I might end up being a makeup artist on the side.”

You chuckled at the boy next to you. “You never know. It could be a fun skill to have. But don’t quit your day job just yet.”

He grinned, returning to his spot by the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the frame. “Fair enough. But if you ever need an assistant, I’m your guy,” Lando announced proudly, pointing at himself with his two thumbs.

“Thanks, Lan. I might just take you up on that offer someday. You know,” you said, applying a bit of highlighter with a deft hand, “makeup can be a lot like racing in a way. It’s all about precision, timing, and a bit of creativity.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? I never thought of it that way.”

“Yeah,” you explained, smiling as you looked at him. “Just like in racing, you need to have good technique and an eye for detail. And there’s always room to experiment and improve.”

He nodded thoughtfully, clearly processing the comparison. “I guess it makes sense. And I suppose the same principles apply, practice makes perfect.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “And it’s all about having fun with it, too.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Well, I definitely had fun. Thanks for letting me try it out. Maybe next time we can swap skills, I'll give you a few racing tips if you show me more about makeup.”

“Deal,” you said, laughing. “Looking forward to it. But how about a cup of coffee first?”

“That can be arranged,” Lando smiled and gave you a quick kiss before he headed out into the direction of the kitchen. 

As the door clicked shut behind him, you tidied up the bathroom counter, feeling a small bit of excitement about what had just happened. It was one of those small moments that made you appreciate Lando just that much more and perhaps you soon would learn something new about his world too!

[tyunniez]

lollipop... bttm male reader.

!!.. amab reader, reader has oral fixation, top is kinda mean, reader gives head, cockwarming at start...

his eyes lingered on your lips as he watched you lick your popsicle a little too.. good.

the way your tongue licked the popsicle skillfully, not a single drop dripping down your chin.

you however noticed the staring and quirked an eyebrow at your friend's weird look. " you sure are good at licking that popsicle "

you choked and pulled the frozen treat out of your mouth. you glared at him as your face heated up. " i'm going to shove this popsicle up your ass, pervert! "

he only smirked " don't threaten me with a good time.. " he lazily replied while continuing to eat his ice cream.

" weirdo... " you whispered under your breath.

after that little incident, you couldn't help but keep eating anything that required some form of licking or sucking around him. making it look more sexual every time as a way to say something.

a week had passed since that incident that caused you to drop more and more sexual hints towards him.

you sat down next to him as you adored a lollipop in your mouth. you started to suck that lollipop a little too enthusiastically which earned you a look from him.

" i hope your teeth fall off from all those sweets you've been eating. " he snarkily said to you before returning his attention to his phone.

you side-eyed him and rolled your eyes, obviously frustrated at him not getting a clue at all.

this fucking dumbass.. you got up with a grunt only to be pulled back on the couch by him.

" finish that lollipop and i'll give you something else to suck on. "

never in your life have you ever finished a lollipop in mere seconds.

a grunt left your lips as you looked up at him, your glossy doe eyes filled with nothing but lust.

" shit baby, if i knew this mouth was that good i would've let you suck me off a long time ago. " his voice's a few octaves lower than usual, making your dick tremble in your shorts.

your nipples are hard, the feeling of the cold wind making you shiver a bit.

he strokes your hair, his hand traveling from your soft locks to your cheeks, his finger wiping the tears from your eyes. " y'know, i always knew what you wanted all this time. seeing how desperate you were for me was just so cute.. "

you glare up at him, a bit pissed at how he's been toying with you all this time. " but seeing you so frustrated was just.. " he didn't finish his sentence as it was interrupted by his laugh.

you gag a bit as he forces himself deeper into you, a sick look of pleasure in his eyes as he watches you suffer. oh but he knows, he knows how much you are enjoying this by the tent in your shorts.

your shirt was discarded somewhere a long time ago, your body already filled with bite marks and hickeys from no other than him.

you whined at him, the vibration sending itself straight towards his cock. the stimulation only makes him near.

" alright, alright. since you're so desperate i'll give you what you want. "

he grabs a hold of your hair and began thrusting into you, his cock hitting the back of your throat. the feeling of your mouth being full and the taste of his salty pre cum just making you see stars.

you occasionally lick his bottom side and hollow your cheeks out, in an attempt to make him cum faster and oh, it was working.

" shit baby.. if you keep doing that i might just cum right now. "

and that's exactly what you want as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes as if asking for it.

he smirks and thrusts into you harder, his hips slowly stuttering, nearing his release. " f- fuck.. you better take what i'm giving you, slut. "

his semen shot itself into your throat, painting it white. your eyes roll into the back of your head as you swallow every drop. without even realizing it, your own release comes as you soil your pants.

" bet you fucking love swallowing your own best friend whole huh? " he laughs in your face.

he looks down at you, doting at the sight of you drinking down every drop of him, your own pants wet without him even needing to touch you.

" attaboy. "

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. The reader's father-in-law gets in the way of her making a cake for her cheating husband (wc: 2.4k)

𝐜𝐰 — daughter-in-law!afab! x father-in-law!Leon S. Kennedy. 18+ smut mdni, dead dove do not eat, pseudoincest (in laws), modern/no outbreak au, cheating (both the reader and her husband so toxic relationship), food play (eating frosting off tits), finger sucking, vaginal rubbing, nipple play, p in v, orgasms, and cum -> you've been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You cracked an egg into the mixing bowl, the bright orange sunset yolk breaking and swirling into the beige batter of sugar and butter. Your hands moved mechanically as you swirled around the wooden spoon you adored making, but your heart wasn’t in it this time. If anything, it added more stress than the usual therapeutic feeling that was usually provided. 

The kitchen smelt sweet, with the opened powdered sugar adding a gourmand scent to the atmosphere. Only this time, it wasn’t as delicious as usual; it was more suffocating as you glanced at your recipe card and made the same cake for the same ungrateful man every single year. 

It was your husband's birthday coming around the corner, and you were making his favourite cake that he would always ask for with bright puppy dog eyes that had a twinge of selfishness in the gleam. However, as the years passed, your love for making his favourites soon faded like snow on a hot day. As you watched the intricate swirling pattern of ingredients mix into the bowl, you wondered if she does things like this for him, if he makes her do different or even in the same favourites. She was the largest reason you lost love for your husband, the secretary he became obsessed with and naively thought he was doing a good job at hiding, even when he never deleted those texts and made that awful day of seeing his exchange of nudes with her happen. You remembered how your heart lurched and your stomach twisted when you saw her. The typical stereotype: pretty, bombshell even, and younger. You were aware cheating happens, but you thought—like every naive woman before you—that your husband would never tread those paths of infidelity. 

You remembered when you confided with your best friend, to which she rightfully asked why you wouldn’t leave. You felt stupid but also smart to stay with him; life was comfortable with him, and there wasn’t much option to have a life after him; you married him right out of high school, bright-eyed and clueless and thinking that love would be enough, but now you know better—even if it’s too late to accumulate that knowledge. 

Life with him was comfortable, and while he was neglectful emotionally, materially, there was nothing to complain about; however, a proper marriage can’t continue just with gifts, and it wasn’t like a proper marriage was going to continue when your heart irredeemably broke when you found those text messages and lipstick stains on his collar, with cheap perfume lingering on the cotton. He managed to get you everything you wanted—except real love—from handbags, perfumes, and any trinket of a hyper fixation. Without him, you’d have nothing: no house, no security; you were just a high school graduate with no real experience and no one else to support you, so you played the role of the good wife, perfect hostess, like it was a survival tool. 

You heard the kitchen door open as you reached for the vanilla extract. You froze for a moment as you wiped your hands on a teatowel and realised it was not your husband; it was too early for him; he’s usually out for hours after work with the secretary; no, who came to visit was a man that always made you smile, Leon Kennedy—your father in law. 

“Smells good in here,” he says with a smooth voice, like velvet with a smoked sharp edge of whiskey aftertaste in it. You watched as his eyes flicked over your form, almost lingering a bit too long, but you didn’t mind; in fact, whenever he looked at you, something always stirred inside of you. 

Leon would often visit; it started with him checking up on his son, but now it was more often to check on you, to which you didn’t mind. You loved your father-in-law. He always made you feel welcome and accepted. When he found out about the secretary's story, he managed to make sure to check up on you often, and you could tell there was something else lingering in these checkups whenever his wandering eyes would stray just a little longer when taking in the vision, that was you, into his peripheral. You weren’t going to act as you disliked it; it wasn’t exactly like Leon was unattractive; it was quite the opposite, actually, especially when you looked at those toned arms, sharp jawline and the way his straight hair framed the harsh chiselled features you couldn’t help but find the beauty in. 

There was also something else between you two. Ever since the secretary's story was known, tension soon built between you two; you always found him attractive. It would be stupid not to see his beauty objectively, but mutual attraction soon makes the tension seem unyielding. The nights he would visit—when you were all alone—there would often be touch with little to no distance between you two. There were especially nights were touching soon swirled into lingering kisses that turned into pants and moans exchanged in each other’s mouths, and soon after these exchanges, you were as innocent as your cheating husband was, only it felt like you were doing so much worse; he was with a pretty secretary, and you were fucking his dad, but you had little sympathy for the man that started the petty streak within you.

“It’s just cake frosting and batter,” you replied while turning back to the bowl and trying to ignore the warmth that crept up on your neck from where he walked up behind and let you feel his hot breath dance along the back of your neck; his presence suffocating, but equally electrifying and arousing. 

“Just cake?” he teases in a lower octave. “Did you bake it with love?” he continues, a breath of amusement lingering at the end of his words.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, your pulse quickening when you felt his muscular arms start to snake around your waist, making your back hit his chest, and you felt how his heartbeat thumped in its chamber for you.

“No, can’t say I’m baking this one with love,” you muttered. 

“Well, he doesn’t deserve it anyway,” his hands smooth over your hips, giving them a slight squeeze that makes your breath hitch as he holds you in place while your heart jitters in rhythm. 

“You shouldn’t be touching me like this, you know,” you tease with a flirty smile.

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he matched your teasing as he coaxed out suggestive giggles as his lips grazed on the curve of your neck, leaving a soft and wet trail of kisses that made you feel weak; something your husband never could make you feel once the connection and love was lost. “Come on, he doesn’t come home for another three hours… and he doesn’t deserve all this hard work.” 

“Yeah, and who does?” 

“Me, obviously. Haven’t I taken care of you, or does my girl need some more attention,” he made your heart and body jump when he squeezed the fat of your ass, griping it and slowly massaging it, using your soft and sensual moans as an invitation to keep going and more. 

With his free hand, he dipped his finger in the pink shimmery frosting and let a wet licking out as he tasted your hard work: “Oh, he definitely doesn’t deserve this; way too good for him… Here, try some.” He says in a suggestive tone as the leftover frosting drips down the length of his finger, making his pupils dilate and swallow the blue of his gaze as he watches you take his finger in and suck on the length of it slowly; just the sight of you looking up and making eye contact with him was enough to make his cock hard, making it press against the rough fabric of his jeans to make a tented peak that was begging to be released and nestle itself inside of you

You giggled slightly: “Hm yeah… way too good for him.”

Leon smirked at your reply as his hands went back to squeezing your waist: “Yeah… like you… you’re way too good for him, but I’m good enough for you,” he punctuated his words, which had a deep grovelled tone, with a few neck kisses; he left a soft wet trail with his lips grazing down the slop and curve of your neck, making pretty little whimpers escape your mouth. “Oh, you make the prettiest sounds,” he mumbled before his neck kisses started to deepen with the tips of his teeth starting to indent on your soft and fragile skin; you didn’t care about being subtle anymore; your husband would come back with the lipstick marks and reak of perfume, so why should you keep the courtesy of secrecy when he never even thought of giving you the manner?

“Mm,” you let out a mumble of arousal as you felt his hands start to snake and slither down between your thighs, hearing his amusement and ego start to heighten when he felt how wet you were already for him, how warm and ready you were between those doughy and plushy thighs that he adored to grab, squeeze, and kiss. 

You let out a sharp gasp, inhaling the cool air that surrounded the kitchen into your expanding lungs as you felt him lift your dress up and plunge his large hand into your lacy barrier, forming circle motions around your sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling how hard he was against your ass as he kept teasing that developed wet spot that darkened your underwear. 

“Such a pretty girl, the most beautiful girl,” he kept whispering his praises as he rubbed your clit, making your chest rise and fall at a quick pace as you wrapped your hand around and interlocked your fingers with his long strands of dusty blonde hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, who needs him when I’m around… Isn’t that right, darling?” 

“Y-yeah, who needs him? Aah,” your words were interrupted with an interlude of sensual moans that erupted from the base of your throat and past your glossy lips as his fingers moved quicker and rougher. 

He left a trail of kisses as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, letting it collect in a wrinkled pool by your feet as he used his free hand to grab at the swell of your breast. 

“Oh, no bra, aren’t I a lucky man?” he pinched slightly as your pebbled nipple. 

You gasped in a moan as you two looked at one another, both of you smirking at one another as he worked on your sensitive buds and admired all those gorgeous and sexy moans you were making for him until he pushed you and bent you over the counter. 

In the blur of motions, you gasped as the cold surface pressed against your already-hardened nipples, but now mixed with a room-temperature sensation; when Leon bent you down, you accidentally smacked your hand at the edge of the bowl, the pink frosting oozing everywhere on the counter and now pooling over to your tits, making a sticky brim collect on your plush skin. At the same time, Leon had pulled his jeans and boxers down—along with your underwear—as he pushed his sensitive, reddened tip along your wet folds, making you sing like an angel with every moan that protruded and danced along your lips. 

“Ah, Leon, s-stop teasing me,” you whimper out. 

“Mm, okay, guess my good girl deserves it now, doesn’t she,” he teased in that tantalising tone. Still, he turned you around, making you yelp as he lifted you up quickly and put you on the counter, watching his brows rise in intrigue with the image of the pink frosting oozing down the mounds on your chest. 

He grinds the tip of his dick along your puffy folds before slipping his hard and wet length inside of you, filling you up and making you gasp. 

“Oh, fuck, Leon.” 

“That’s it; use that pretty mouth for good, hunny.”

The room started to fill up with orgasmic exchanges as he pushed further inside your gummy walls, biting his lip as he felt your cunt suck him in further for his tip to bash against that spongy sweet spot he had found so easily, like his body was made to be connected to yours in an intimate exchange; far more compatible than you and your husband, or him and his ex-wife. 

Leon couldn’t hold it in anymore when he watched the pink frosting start to set on your soft skin, letting his face bend forward and lick the sweet mess off your tits.

“Fuck, you taste even more sweet now,” he whispered before his tongue proceeded to lap up every sweet bit of mess that had accumulated down to your sensitive buds, making you whimper and writhe underneath his touch as the stiff tip of his tongue circulated on your nipples and leaving the occasional nibble to make your heart jitter and your walls tighten and spasm around his thick length. 

“Oh, my god,” you moaned out. 

You felt like your body was on fire, with arousal pooling in your stomach, the sensation almost being too much for you to handle as your eyes rolled up until only the whites were visible and accompanied by your dazed and dream-like expression as you bit your lip in ecstasy. 

The push and pull of his cock was quick but steady, his tongue lapping around your sensitive buds, making you get so much closer to your high—which was never hard to find with Leon’s skill. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you moan out in an orgasmic and pornographic tone. 

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock like the good girl you are,” he punctuated his words with a harsh bite from the tips of his teeth around your nipple, making a catalyst for the clear gush that trickled and spurted down his length and onto the kitchen counter. “Oh, you’re so sexy, you messy girl,” he whispered as his gaze went down to watch his dick push in and out of that pretty little pussy of yours.

You heard him curse under his breath before groaning, followed by heat that pooled inside of you as he cummed and unloaded his white release inside your tight cunt; he had completely ravaged your body with bruises on your hips where he had held you, bite marks on his chest, now his cloudy release spurting out of your spent hole.

🏷️ taglist: @elfven-blog @porcelainseashore @angelstargel @localkiss -> check my pinned post if you wanted to be added to the taglist; if you want to be deleted from it just message me privately.

a/n: father in law returns! I haven't written this type but they did get kinda popular on here and they were my favourite things to write hehe. I kinda fell off Leon content and I was planning on making a in law series with him but I kinda fell off the love for him for a bit; I still adore him but I think it's been obvious that I've been more involved with my anime fandoms at the moment. This is a multifandom blog, it's no longer the solely Leon blog it was at the start, so I am sorry if people get disappointed with the lack of resident evil stuff. However, pookie is not forgotten, I do have TWO planned one shots for him to come out during later November and December so the RE girlies will be fed haha

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hi hi!! I was just wondering if you could write general hcs (or longer blurbs) of the Harbingers (Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Arlecchino and La Signora) with a dumb and naive fem! Reader? (Gn is fine) Perversions such as stalking, manipulation, and non con elements + etc. are a-ok! 👌(^◡^ ) I want the entirety of the Yandere-ness!!!

Much love 😈

hi this request was so cool!! i don't usually do more than 3-4 characters per post so i did a few this time, if you wanna swing back around and request the rest of the characters i'd be more than happy to write it for you :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against ones will, subject to unwilling experiments, delusional behaviors, obsessive tendencies, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Childe:

Oh Celestia you couldn’t be any more perfect could you? That wide-eyed, dumb little look you gave him whenever he was talking about his missions, eager to listen but to stupid to understand. He just adores you, his big hands cupping your face, squishing your cheeks to make you look even sillier. Childe just can’t get enough of you. 

You’re like a little puppy dog to him, so cute and silly yet so unknowing. He can’t help but want to smother you in hugs and kisses when you’re around, doting on you and making sure no one ever lays a finger on you aside from him.

It’s when you’re not around that things are different with Childe, it’s like he’s gone haywire, feral without your company. He wears a little locket on a chain attached to his belt, it has a picture of you and a lock of your hair inside. He makes sure to keep it well protected, occasionally spraying it with your perfume or beauty products so it smells like you. As soon as he’s back home with you though he’s the same sweet, overbearing Childe he was previously. 

Dottore:

He takes full advantage of the situation, subjecting you to minor experiments, most of which are harmless. Dottore always has his eyes on you, whether his actual ones or the ones of his segments. Even in your sleep there’s some variation of him watching you, settled at your bedside with a notepad in hand, camera just beside him. It’s like every second of your life is being recorded for Dottore, because it is.

He’s also obsessed with your body, giving you regular weekly check ups. He tells you that it’s normal, that all proper adults get checkups this often, even when the check ups push beyond the normal means. It’s not just the normal things like checking your heart rate and ensuring you’ve got no lumps, bumps, or growths. It extends into things like how fast your hair and nails grow, any changes caused by the experiments he does, changes in your natural body scent, and other random things.

Dottore also takes care of any and all medical needs you have, he’s become your personal doctor. Anything and everything you do is under his control, he picks when and how often you sleep, what you eat, how much daylight you get, and what you do on a day to day basis. The best part is you’re too stupid and naive to muster up the courage to say anything.

Pantalone:

This man, in all his wisdom and cash, adores how you let him do anything he wishes with you. You’ve become his little doll to dress up, style, and control. He makes you the perfect little partner, picking out all your outfits, regularly rotating the clothing in your wardrobe with new outfits, he’d be criminal if he let you wear the same thing twice. 

Pantalone takes you everywhere with him, flaunting his perfect little darling to others. He makes sure to use big, extravagant words when talking about you to others so that you don’t understand, it’s usually all good though so no worries. If there is any reason he can’t take you with him, you can expect him to leave a comprehensive list and schedule for you, keeping his control over what you wear even whilst he’s gone.

He uses your stupidity against you, betting things on which of you will be right or if you can answer correctly. You’re wrong every time and he loves it, and yet despite being wrong every time, because you stood no chance at knowing the right answer, you fall right into the same trap over and over again. He just adores you so much, and he’d do anything to keep you by his side, forever.

[tiredfox64]

First time?

Prior notes: I was bored and I wanted to make something nice. It’s funny tho that I pick this version of his since it’s supposed to be 77 DEGREES FOR ME! Anyways I love this old man.

Pairing: Kuai Liang (MK11) x Afab Reader

Warnings ‼️: You no like babies, you no read. But we stay safe for now.

Kuai Liang was a cold and stern man. A grandmaster to the Lin Kuei. So don’t be all that surprised that he doesn’t know how to handle babies.

Your child was planned, kind of. Kuai Liang did need an heir he just didn’t know when it would happen. Well, it happened. It’s your fault for getting frisky in the middle of the night.

But now you two have a baby! Congratulations! Now…does he know what he’s doing? Uhm, no.

There was no one to teach him how to be a father. But he couldn’t leave you to raise the baby without any help. He’s a better man than that. He does his best to take care of both you and the baby by making time.

It’s not easy right now since the baby is teething. Not only is it hell to breastfeed him which resulted in you pumping instead but he can get so fussy. You tried everything. You almost took the advice of a family member about rubbing whiskey on the gums. Luckily, Kuai Liang is here to help in any way he can.

“Here, give him to me.” He held out his arms.

You gave him a questioning look before speaking, “Are you sure? He’s really fussy today because of the teething.”

“My dearest, I have fought Netherrealm demons. Our son will not scare me away.” Kuai Liang took the baby from your arms and held him.

You couldn’t deny that the sight of Kuai Liang holding your son was adorable. Especially since your baby is in the grabbing stage of his life where everything needs to be examined and even put into his mouth. His tiny hands reached up to Kuai Liang’s face and ran over his facial hair. You almost wanted to make another baby with him so you could always have moments like this. Relax, get through the first one.

“I’ll warm up a bottle for him.” You said before walking away.

The moment you walk out of the room the baby starts acting up. His head kept going back a lot. Kuai Liang tried to push it back so his son could rest his head on his chest. Nope, your son kept craning his head back. It looked like Kuai Liang was holding a broken doll. Why does he keep doing that?!

Kuai Liang was at a loss. He didn’t understand that the baby was still getting used to having the strength to move his head. So what did he do? He puts your son on the floor, right on his back. Alright…

You came walking back in the room, realizing you left the milk in another room. But then you see your son on the ground with Kuai Liang kneeling and looking down.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked with concern.

“His head was going back too much. I was unsure on what to do.” He replied bluntly.

“Yeah, well, they do that. He’s trying to figure out how to hold his head up for long. Turn your son on his stomach.”

Kuai Liang did, in the stupidest way you could have imagined. He placed his hand on the baby’s back and flipped him like a burger. You’ve seen more care when flipping a tortilla on a stove. At least he did it gently.

You stared at him wide eyed with your hand over your forehead. This can’t be real.

Kuai Liang did notice that the baby was staring to bite their fist. Another way to relieve their teething pain. See that Kuai Liang understood. And he had a solution.

He formed an ice ball in his hand that solidified quickly. There was still water vapor coming off the ice ball as Kuai Liang tried to pass it to the baby.

“Kuai, no!” You yelled which made both Kuai Liang and the baby flinch.

“It will help soothe his gums.”

“Yes, but it’s too cold and it will melt in his mouth. He’s not allowed to have water yet and I’m not gonna risk anything,” You calmly explained before passing him a towel, “Here, just lightly freeze this. I still need to get him a bottle.”

Kuai Liang listened as you walked away again. That was a much better solution. Your son was being soothed by the cold towel on his gums. Kuai Liang watched with such love in his eyes, but with the same cold face he gives to everyone. The only people who could see him this way is his son and his wife.

After a while you came back into the room with a bottle in your hand. You smiled at the sight in front of you. Your husband and your son. Then the unexpected happened. Before any of you could say a word your son started to crawl! It was still pretty early for him to crawl and you saw his efforts before. But he was actually crawling! Towards Kuai Liang!

It was slow but your baby was putting in the work. This was a rare moment as Kuai Liang was shocked and even smiled. He held his hands out as his son came crawling into his arms.

“My dearest, did you see th-“ Kuai Liang cut himself off when he saw your face.

You’re happy to learn that your son is a quick learner. But after carrying him for nine months and pushing his out for god knows how many hours he decides to crawl to his dad. He’s not even the one holding the bottle! Your eye twitched just thinking about the whole thing. You see Kuai Liang hold out his hand.

“I’ll feed him if you want…” He said with unsureness.

He better pray to the elder gods that his son doesn’t call him dada before calling you mama or else he will be a dead man.

After notes: If you think this isn’t realistic unfortunately it is. I’ve seen it and heard it. It be my own damn family. I am trying to pop out some nicer fanfics before hitting some NSFW again. Trying to make the guilt go away.

[jolalibrary]

iv. before the gold and glimmer

javier peña x f!reader | chapter four of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. an: i adore each of you who are coming along this weird and wonderful journey, we're getting closer, i promise. wordcount: 2.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

I’ll be home in an hour.

I’ll be ready 

Are we going to do the crossword tonight or are you going to spend an hour flirting?

too early to comment

I’m bringing my A game. 

to flirt with me? baby you flatter me 

No. Crosswords, you fucking flirt.

hermosa did you just swear at me 

I did. Now I have to concentrate, stop distracting me. 

Javi is aware that his pop is thinking things. 

Has been since the phone conversations began. The ones initially having slotted in when the house was empty. Quiet. Just him and his thoughts banging around, occasionally punctured by him pressing the keys on his phone until the phone rang.

Now, the phone calls have bled out into quick chats on other nights (Javi’s hand over his mouth, trying to muffle a laugh). He’s caught sight of his pop’s smirk more than once.

He’s very aware that he hasn’t helped things by dropping your name into conversations.

Accidentally, at first.

Then just accepting his fate and embracing it. Talking about you as if you’re this fully fleshed thing in front of him—mentioning the news thing you’d heard, something funny you’d said. 

He even mentioned you to Murphy. Again, not on purpose. 

Steve was quick. Picking up on it immediately in their latest monthly catch-up where usually Javi listens to how amazing, disruptive and yet tiring kids are—how Miami would be good for him, and that Connie misses him. This time it segwayed suddenly into, and who might she be then, Jav? 

It had crossed his mind to play it down. To conceal you—because a part of him suspects he should hate all of it.

Before, he had always preferred secrecy. Kept the women he had been seeing behind lock and key. Partially due to the nature, the risk—now, though, he thinks he just doesn’t want to share. 

Doesn’t want to taint it. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to himself, his slice of happiness that no one can dull.

It also aids in holding himself back from falling over the cliff, tumbling into ruin because he let himself get ahead of himself. 

Feel too much, too quick, because Javi didn’t even know what you looked like. Hadn’t eyed you up across a bar, hadn’t spotted you in the aisle of the store.

You’d stumbled into his life.

No reason, no real cause or explanation, and now he’s not entirely sure as to why he feels the amount he does. That he cares, that he likes you. How that when he talks to you, he feels only happy, content and joy—like he could do and be anything.

You provide the key to the semblance of normalcy he’s been longing for. Liking what others would think is mundane, like about your day. Now he longs for it all face to face, where he can read your face instead of dissecting your voice. 

She’s just someone I’ve been talking to. Don’t—don’t even know her, really.  You knew all the others well before? Fuck off, Murphy.  Just sayin’, sometimes, shit just don’t make sense, Jav. 

Steve says it as though it answers all his problems. 

Like he thinks the words will make all the pieces click into place, suddenly cemented and real—all understood and no longer complex. 

But it’s all still very much messy—a tangling of feelings that ready exist and more which threaten to come.

In truth, he doesn’t mind the complications of it all. He just thinks it’s best to protest it a little. Pretend he hasn’t abandoned all logic just because someone made him smile and feel a little less broken.

Because he knew, just like those around him, that he was done for. 

It all perfectly evidenced by the fact he doesn’t mind when his pop begins giving him one of those smirks more often than not—the ones surrounded by wiry white hair, partnered with a knowing look on his face. The same conversation circling, the one that’s been going on for days now—

“When the two of you meeting?”  “I don’t know, pop.”  “You made plans to see her yet?” “No, pop.”  “You should go see her. You need a break.” “Pop.” 

At some stage, his pop stops beginning it—challenging him. Now he just signals the words with a look. One he assumes parents are given when their child enters the world—the one that is part knowing and part ‘you know you’re going to do what I’m saying, anyway’.

Javi hates that more than he hates the rest of the situation. 

Because his pop isn’t wrong. He wants to see you, watch your expressions instead of imagining them. 

Not just to see what you look like, but so that he can see how you react when he says certain things. Whether you scrunch your nose or your lips curl before you smile; whether you hide your face when he embarrasses you, or whether you fold your arms and pout. 

Each time the two of you text or call, he thinks it—wants to bring it up and ask.

A need in him growing, in the same way his feelings do. Multiplying, quivering in his bones when you laugh, and it travels straight to his heart—making it swell and bloom. Filling the expanse of his chest until he isn’t sure he can feel any more happiness. 

Picking up the phone on the first ring, he hears your usual chirpy hey, which he follows with his now usual: “Hey baby.” 

“¿Cómo estás, Javi?”

“Ay, you’ve been practising.” 

Hearing you laugh makes him smile. Unknots the stresses of the day from him as he pulls the chair over—sitting on it as his head rests against the wall. 

“I purchased a Spanish for kids book, so that’s my skill level.” 

Smirking, he rolls his lips. “You trying for me?” 

“Sí.”

Snorting, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Eres tan linda, querida.” 

“I know the last word means darling.” 

“I said you are very cute.” 

You pause, a shuffling sound coming from your side of the phone before the softest of sighs. “You’re making me blush, again.” 

“You make it too easy.” 

“Stop,” you say, all fake warning and all likely accompanied by a cute smile, “How’s your day been—tell me you got a splinter in your ass?” 

Smirking, he slumps further into the chair, legs spread, spare hand resting on his thigh. “Starting to think you only talk to me for my body.”

The laugh you let out is closer to a howl, and his cheeks hurt from hearing it—his grin so large, it doesn’t fade for hours. 

apprehensive feeling, 5 

Come on, Javi. 

I think it may be angst 

If I were there I’d kiss your cheek. 

I know you mean that in a nice way but it feels demeaning 

Oh no I meant it as the latter. 

is that how we’re being

You tell me. 

paris divider, 5 

Seine. You ever been to Paris?

no have you 

Not yet. 

not yet? 

Well there’s always time. Heard it’s a romantic place to go.

maybe if you were nicer someone would take you 

You make a good point. 

things go ok this morning

Not like I wanted but not the worst. I can apply but they’re playing the experience card again. 

bullshit, you ok

I will be. Thank you for checking in on me. 

you can tell me if youre not yknow

I just need to destress is all. It’s like talking to a fucking wall sometimes.

fuck I love it when you swear 

Javi, stop. 

do you really want me to 

No. But you’re making my face burn. 

bet you look real pretty getting embarrassed 

I actually do not, so you should stop so you don’t inflict the face on others. 

I don’t believe you

Maybe one day you’ll see it for yourself so you can believe me 

wish one day was today 

Why would you destress me? 

baby I’d make sure you couldn’t even think the word stress never mind feel it 

You confident in that? 

youll have to find out

Something was different in the air the moment he woke up. 

Things went far easier than they normally would. No one tried to bowl him over during feeding. The fence he went to check on didn’t look all that bad—and there wasn’t even a queue when he visited the homeware store for pop. 

There also wasn’t a rain cloud in the sky.

And it put him on edge. 

His gut—the one he had relied on to take down the narcos—flared back to life. It could be a good day, a once-in-a-blue moon, a blessing in a sea of disguise. 

But rationality didn’t stop him from checking over his shoulder, do a final sweep of the land. 

It had been like that when he’d first gotten back. All on edge, finding it difficult to settle. He had smoked back then, worse than he had done when he’d been over in Colombia. It’s why he’d chosen to quit.

Now, he rotated the phone between his finger and thumb, feeling it vibrate against his palm, checking if it was you before he allows the smile—the one you pull from him by just texting him—blossom. 

So I have good news and I have bad news lead with the bad first I can’t call you on Thursday night

His heart drops, plummets. 

A part of him knew something bad was around the corner. Taking in your text, over and over. Checking he understood it as he climbed the stairs up the porch. 

Javi rolls his head on his neck, staring up—the flies around the porch light buzzing away as he tries to compose himself. 

Somehow always knowing that deep down, this day would come. His mind is too quick to act, abruptly busy with conjuring thoughts. That old analytical part of him whirs back to life as it tries to make heads or tails of the situation in front of him, as though it was a case.

Because he suspects that your good news is that you have a date—someone you’ve seen face to face and has swept you off your feet. A person who will take you away from him because he can’t offer you that.

Plus, you don’t even know him.

Not really. 

He’s just this person you text. 

This person he feels…

well fuck. The good news best be the best news ever I think it is. Don’t tease me, querida Says you, baby.

Baby?

It takes him a second. 

The four letters blowing all the conjured theories well and truly out of the water. 

His eyes trace over the letters, even after he’s sent the reply. Javi’s heart suddenly in his throat, pulse in his ear—the blood banging around. 

Shut up. Anyway I can’t call you because I’ll be on an early flight in the morning to Houston. Work needs me to check out some odd sales. You’ll be in Texas? Yeah. So the good news is, if you meant what you said, we could meet in person.

He swallows, spine straightening—posture suddenly pristine, making the muscles in his back ache from the day as they flex and tighten under his shirt. 

You want to meet him. 

Or he thinks. 

Not wanting to read between the lines—needing the confirmation, to hear you say it. His shirt begins to cling to his back, hair falling over his forehead as sweat grows, strands of hair being grasped against his skin.

You want to meet me? Of course, I’m the one suggesting it. But if you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, I’ll begin judging how lonely you actually are if you don’t. But it’s fine.

His thumbs aren’t quick enough. 

Each text firing in—and he wishes, more than he usually does, that he could be there with you. Clutch your cheek, assure you, make you breathe—

baby breathe. I want to meet you, I do But? but nothing

Even if there is. 

There seems like there’s a but

Javi doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. 

Somehow, miles away—you can already read him. Know him. His thumb massaging his nose, wrist hiding his smile from the world. 

I’m nervous about the fact you could see me and never want to speak to me again You think I’m that shallow? No. It’s just you’ve been the best thing about my day in a long, long time, querida Call me. it’s late isn’t it Javi. 

He moves, the chair he had been on almost toppling over as he opens the storm door and then the next. Moving into the kitchen, not even needing to pull your number up. He knows it. 

It’s burned into him. 

The receiver meets his ear as you answer in record time as your voice greets his ears. Followed by a sigh when he greets you in a low-whisper.

“Javi, I feel the same.” 

He swallows. “Yeah?” 

Silence greets him before you do a soft laugh. That little one he’s begun noticing you do when you later tell him you’ve just nodded or shrugged—forgetting he can’t see down the phone. 

“I wanted you to call so you could hear it. That I want to meet you because I can’t stop thinking about you. And that might be insane, and odd. But… I like you. I feel things.” 

“I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against the wall—eyes closing, hand tightening around the phone. “I like you, too.” 

Javi hears it. The discernible way you relax. 

It comes across in the way you take a breath, in the way he suddenly feels his own shoulders slide from his ears. 

“But if it’s too soon, I can use some time off—“

“No, cariño. No. I… I want to. I’ll be there.” 

You swallow—loud in the silence. Almost clunky. “I’m scared too.” 

Opening his eyes, he stares at the peeling paint. Something running over him, from his head to his feet. It whispers to relax, to breathe—allowing him fully to do both. 

“You could… I don’t know, see me and find I don’t match the image of me you’ve created. Or, find me horribly boring. Or that I’m actually the strangest person. It’s scary. I’m scared too.” 

He nods, smiling to himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Baby.” It silences you, and the thought makes him smile. “I’ll pick you up from the airport, okay?”

It takes a beat. 

A full ten seconds. 

“We’re going to meet,” you say softly, almost wistfully. 

And it cracks then, a smile. A real one. His usual one. Turning on the spot, pressing his back against the wall, head meeting it as he lets the grin spread into his cheeks, almost to his eyes if his thumb and finger didn’t begin rubbing them. 

“We’re gonna meet,” he replies.

Opening his eyes, seeing the noticeable flicker of the television—its shimmering light flittering through the doorway, illuminating his pop, who is standing smiling at him. 

AN: remember, if you wish to see the deleted 18+ scene for the birthday bash, be sure to check back on 8th of July, otherwise see you next Tuesday 

next ->

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: when did you know you liked me?

Wasn't planning on one for this idiot, but for 'raccoon anon' because you seem to be having a rough time rn. Jake Kim | Samuel Seo

Honestly.

How did Seong Taehoon get a partner that is so cringe and cheesy? When did he realise he liked you? Why would you even ask him that without expecting a teasing remark.

And then you push him more and get rewarded with a (light) kick on the ass. (He should have known that it would have led to you sulking and ignoring him. Oops. That's his bad.)

Seriously though.

Does he really need to recall every single moment he has felt something for you? Isn't it enough that he loves you? Isn't it enough that you make him feel so mushy that even Snapper and Hobin think they can get away with talking back to him when you're around?

That should be proof enough of his feelings for you.

What you digging up the past for?

Taehoon wonders if you'd be disappointed that he didn't see you differently for a long time. That he saw you as his friend first and foremost.

Someone that became a constant in his life.

Who treated him with kindness from the start. A curious sort of kindness, lined with blunt words and a bold attitude, packaged up in a way that Taehoon would be able to accept.

Who he couldn't help but give you a little kindness back too.

Taehoon is still sharp and prickly and oh so quick to anger, but some of his edges are smoothed. Sanded down and refined over time with you and for you.

And then-

A passing offhand comment from Rumi on how cute you are, which he instantly dismissed at first. Sure, Taehoon has eyes. He knows you're cute. Cute like puppies and kittens are cute.

But like a veil lifted from his head, he realised you're not just cute. Especially when Yeonwoo, in Taehoon's mind, all too eagerly agreed.

It was a day spent just hanging around in the company house during summer break. Where it was too hot and hazy to do anything other than sitting around. Messing around and letting the sound of chatter drift around him as he fiddles on his phone.

At Yeonwoo's agreement, Taehoon's leg immediately started twitching and his mood soured.

Quick tempered at the best time, now suddenly explosive for no real reason.

Maybe it was that exact moment when he realised that there is something to this. That he liked you as more than a friend.

Taehoon considers this as he watches you pouting next to him, arms folded tight and determined not to look at him.

"Hey idiot," he calls but you don't respond.

So he tells you.

Tells you Rumi's comment, and he tells you the date. Nothing more, nothing less. Though he does also tells you that four eyed bastard's comment too.

Your mood lifts. Until finally, you turn towards him, body now relaxed and easy, smile bright, and say he's adorable.

Taehoon is Taehoon. Romance never lasts long.

He also tells you to "stop being cringe", "weren't you just mad a second ago", "why you throwing yourself at me now".

Yet his cheeks tinges with pink.

(If you ever ask him, he will forever deny the way he blushed as he told you the moment everything changed.)

[queerweewoo]

SNIPPET SUNDAY

tagged by @kitteneddiediaz—thank you baz, my love! you can check out their latest wip HERE btw :)

mine is from one of my gazillions of wips, this one a (sort of) fake dating scenario that maybe isn't so fake for every party involved.

.

“Eddie!”

Buck somehow manages to sound like he's hissing the name as he reaches out through the crowd, reminding Eddie a little of the pregnant Rattlesnake from that one house call in Inglewood earlier in the week.

He's probably going to grip Eddie's left elbow and lean in to say something about the song currently booming through the super base-y speakers, or tell Eddie that it's his round and that Buck wants one of those purple cocktails Karen was drinking earlier on in the evening (Eddie knew Buck had been secretly eying them up).

But then Buck's getting even closer than that, all wide-eyed and wild like that spooked animal again, and rasping into Eddie's ear, “I'm sorry but please just don't say anything, alright? And just—

“What?” Eddie's hollering back, even though he heard Buck just fine.

“—just go with it and follow my lead, okay? Please, Eds, just—you gotta just play along, alright?” he's insisting, and he seems pretty harried, his forehead wrinkling in that adorable way it does when something's bothering him.

Eddie has no clue as to what the hell Buck is talking about. Buck's hands are now circling both Eddie's biceps as he waits impatiently for a signal from Eddie, and something signifying Eddie's confusion likely flashes across Eddie's face when he shoots a quizzical look at Crazy-Eyes Buck, the pair of them just standing there on the edge of the dance floor painted in alternating blues and pinks yellows by the club's swirling, neon lights.

That's when he remembers Buck asking him to play along, so Eddie gives his signal of compliance by schooling his expression into something neutral and pointedly says sweet eff ay more than nada de nada.

If Buck asked him to keep schtum, then Eddie's keeping schtum.

See, Eddie will always give Buck whatever Buck needs because Eddie is a relatively decent guy—which means that when it comes to this sort of shit, he is fairly secure in knowing he would still be serving up the whole world on a silver platter for Evan Buckley whatever the weather, even if Eddie weren't so stupidly gone on him.

He tries his best to put that thought out of his mind as he looks at Buck and makes his eyes say I get it—only it's a little more under the cover of the fan of his lashes than usual, because Buck is standing way closer to Eddie than he normally would be in a social setting (he isn't counting work).

Then everything goes stock-still and impossibly silent as Buck's fingers begin to trace both sides of Eddie's neck, each big hand now moving to span Eddie's jaw—and Eddie very much does not get it when Buck leans in, as if he's going to fucking kiss Eddie.

And then Buck is fucking kissing Eddie.

.

my tags are beneath the cut, play or nay :)

@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @eddiegettingshot @mazzystar24 @daffi-990 @treasurehuntbuck @veronae-buddie

[mermaid-trash]

Genshin Men with a stoner!reader

summary: Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Tighnari, Kazuha, and Itto (separate) x stoner!gn!reader headcanons (

a/n: so I read these headcanons from @rabuchu and honestly I agreed that there should be more stoner!reader content for genshin soooo....here ya go 🫴

Kaeya would be eager to smoke with you after noticing how relaxed you seem to be while stoned, he'll happily try it at least once just to see how different it feels to being drunk. He gets even more physically affectionate than usual when he's high, constantly stroking and tickling and nipping and groping at wherever on your body he can reach. He thinks you look so pretty when you're stoned, so soft and sweet with heavy eyelids and a dazed smile playing on your lips that he desperately wants to kiss.

Diluc probably prefers to see you stoned than drunk, he's seen too many people get a messy kind of drunk in the tavern and so he prefers to see you cuddled up in a blanket on the couch of the winery when he returns home. You just look so comfortable and safe and that's all he's ever wanted for you. Diluc won't smoke with you, but he will either buy or grow weed for you, and also makes sure the kitchens are always stocked with your favourite snacks and meals, and he'll carry you up to bed whenever you fall asleep on the couch.

Venti doesn't love the smell or taste of weed so he won't smoke with you, but he's more than happy to drink while you smoke! You sit together on Starsnatch cliff late in the afternoon, him chugging stolen bottles of wine and you puffing on joints, lying side by side in the grass below the setting sun, talking and telling stories and giggling for hours on end. He loves seeing you all blushy and hazy-eyed, and the sound of your breathless giggles make his heart feel like it's soaring.

Tighnari has almost definitely dabbled in smoking plants before, so he is happy to join you for a smoke whenever he has free time (which is very rare). Usually it happens late at night when he's finished with his work; you lie in bed together, legs tangled together, and share a joint as you share stories about your days with the smoke-hazed ceiling. If he isn't smoking with you, he does his best to look after you instead, preparing your favourite food and making sure your high doesn't take a bad turn.

Kazuha already smokes, and loves how much more relaxing it is to smoke with you by his side. Sitting side by side in the grass, leaning heavily against each other and watching the sunset as you pass the joint back and forth so easily, effortlessly keeping pace with each other and talking about everything and nothing at once; he would spend every day like this if he could. While he's stoned, Kazuha just wants to listen to you speak. He all but pleads for you to tell him stories or just talk about whatever's on your mind, he just wants to hear your voice because it soothes him.

Itto doesn't smoke, but he's one of the best people to be around when you smoke simply because he's so much fun. He'll steal candy or whatever snacks you get a craving for, and when your body starts to feel too heavy to walk places he'll simply throw you over his shoulder and carry you there. The first time he did that, you laughed so hard at the sensation of swaying against his back that he found himself laughing too, harder and harder until you both ended up in a pile on the floor, laughing at nothing- that was when Itto realised he adored the sound of your laughter and would do anything to hear it for the rest of his life.

[ayyyez]

I GOT YOU BESTIE!!

Hcs of Kuroo and other haikyuu boys trying their Very Best to confess to their crush. Who has a whole speech planned out and fumbles it as soon as he's standing in front of his affections? Who is a stuttering mess? Who can't make eye contact and needs the crush to piece out what's going on?? (Other than Kuroo ofc, the sweetie)

Good luck on your writing spree <3

a/n: ain't nobody got meeeee like youuuu got meeeeee <3 HELLOOO sirr yes my hotmess fumbles the bag Kuroo is coming up! Along with a couple other favs for your viewing pleasure <3

Tags: confessing to crush, fluff, blushing mess characters

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, Iwaizumi Hajime, Bokuto Koutarou w/honourable mentions at the bottom

Kuroo Tetsurou

Wants to be the cool, calm and collected man who can smooth talk his way into your heart and have you laughing at his well thought out jokes right up until the moment he has the perfect opportunity to ask you out. All so smooth and suave.

Reality though is a harsh mistress to Kuroo. He's a mess. A hot mess. He's all blushes and outbursts when he tries talking to you. Those topics he planned on talking to you about? They come up as garbled words and strung together sentences that reach every octive in his range.

When he can manage to talk to you normally it's only to embarass himself or say something that makes you laugh at him, not with him AT HIM. Definitely the one getting hit in the face with a volleyball the second you walk up to him type embarrassment.

'You okay Kuroo?' 'Mhmm definitely.' 'It's just your face is bright red and your nose is bleeding from where the volleyball hit you.' 'Oh yeah happens all the time.' 'You get hit in the face all the time?'

Definitely not his finest play it cool moments. But it's very endearing. Along with his blurt out words just to start conversations with out because he can't bear the thought of you walking by without talking to you first.

The sweet thing is though he doesn't let the embarassment he feels stop him. He just grins, blushing cheeks and all and keeps running head first through it all because you are worth it.

Oh and when he does get to that confession after all the failed attempts before with that BIG SPEECH he has planned? It's gone now. Head empty no ones home. Only you there in front of him watching as he stands there wide eyed and panicking trying again to string a sentence together.

You have to be the one to work it out. Something along the lines of 'Alright I'll go out with you.' to make it easy on him or if you're uncertain and want to really push him through it. 'Are you asking me out?' to which HE FINALLY manages to get a 'Yes. Please um, me?' which doesn't make sense but you get it. 'Yeah, okay.'

How could you not? He's an adorable mess. A dork in love. This also kind of breaks the spell of not being able to communicate with you and you can finally have more of a normal conversation with him again.

Iwaizumi Hajime

When he's contemplating it he can't look at you. He's staring everywhere but your eyes. A little blushy too. He's a little awkward but can hold a conversation just not eye contact. There was one awkward conversation he dead ass went oh I'm just going to look up yep totally not suspicious.

Once he's decided he's going to do it though, he's going to confess to you, the fierce determination in him returns. He's no longer afraid to look you in the eye. You make a joke about him returning to normal and he's makes some deep line about 'realising what's important' to him. lol.

He won't rush it but rather wait for the right moment. That or his patience will run out and he'll be afraid someone else will swoop in and take you (he's seen one to many confrontations with Oikawa to let that happen) and pulls you aside one day.

The thing about Iwa is he likes to be prepared for anything. So he did have a mini speech prepared. Nothing concrete just more to do with his feelings--how he feels about you and what you mean to him. It's all loose but something he may or may not have practiced in his bedroom mirror a few times. Along with making sure his hair looked okay. Nice and spikey.

You know the smooth guy Kuroo wished he was? That's the guy Iwaizumi actually is and he doesn't even try, it just comes naturally. He doesn't say the speech. Its simple and sweet, he just tells you straight. 'I have feelings for you and I hope I'm right in thinking you do to. If so please go out with me.'

The only thing that gives away his nerves are those pink cheeks. He's wearing the most serious expression. He even does a little bow to show you he's serious. Just don't take to long to reply or he might panic a little (or do if you wanna be that person YOU MONSTER) but yeah. hehe.

Agreeing to date him? He's smug affff. Like he pulled you and pulled off a confession without fumbling. Nothing can bring him down. Mans is walking on air.

Bokuto Koutarou

The way he feels about you makes him feel so warm and full that he just can't wait to tell you. He's practically bursting at the seems holding in his feelings. The whole world knows about his crush without him having to even say it out loud. Aside from maybe some self doubt you probably sense it too.

The thing is that doesn't mean Bokuto is going to tell you the second he realises. He kind of wants to sit on the warmth that comes with having a crush for a hot minute. It's nice? Just hanging out without the pressure. He's a bit affraid of the pressure.

Also he's not enitrely sure you like him back, ya'know?

That doesn't last long though because before he knows it the two of you are hanging out together laughing about something when he just blurts out that he likes you. It's not planned, there's not speech, no fumbling but he's entirely serious.

There's the sofest smile on his face when you ask him to repeat what he said because honestly it's like you dreamed it. Surely he didn't just say he liked you? Not with that sweet smile and certain look in his eyes.

But he did! and he says it again. This time a little quiter but with more emphasis like he NEEDS you to understand. With an added question about dating. He holds your gaze and waits for your response. It's like the bubble around you two will break if it's not quick and if it's not yes.

Of course it is though and Bokuto's smile widens again like that brief moment of vulnerability never existed between the two of you. He's as happy as when he's been pulled from one of his emo mode moments. Maybe happier. He'd landed something better than a killer cross shot.

Honourable mentions:

Fumbles the confession: Atsumu Miya, Hoshiumi Korai, Yachi Hitoka

Blurts out the confession: Osamu Miya, Kunimi Akira, Kageyama Tobio, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tanaka Ryunosuke

Short and Sweet no eye contact: Kenma Kozame, Kindaichi Yutarou, Kiyoko Shimizu

Short and Sweet with eye contact: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Daichi Sawamura, Kita Shinsuke, Yaku Morisuke

Casual smooth confession: Suna Rintarou, Sugawara Koshi

[apneicodette]

To be dead is to be alive. (Or is it the other way around?)

Scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader oneshot

Modern AU

Warning: Mentions of death and abuse, Attempt at humor, hint of suicidal thoughts. (But happy end, this is fluff brah)

When bonding over dead family members who were complete assholes leads to a coffee date.

┏ ʟᴏᴜɪꜱᴇ - 【ᴛᴠ】 ɢɪʀʟ. ┐

1:01 ────●──────────── 3:15

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

└ ┛

Louise, Louise

You can't be anybody's friend

Louise, Louise

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

The cold air of winter brings you a sense of comfort. The feeling of almost freezing to death was something you grew fond of. That and also no bugs to disturb your peace.

Which is why you take the opportunity to visit your father's grave. But, really, it was mostly in the hopes of running into the boy who'd too visit a grave in the winter. A grave that just so happened to be right next to your father's.

"Was that your mother?" you asked even though it was quite obvious.

The boy usually ignored you, but you didn't really care. You watched as the snow clinged onto his violet hair and his long winter coat.

You lightly sighed as you eyed your fathers grave.

"I fucking hated him" you said.

Your expectation of silence was surprised by the boy's soft chuckle.

"That makes the two of us."

He left his mother's grave heading towards the exit of the cemetery leaving his footprints behind.

This was the first time he had conversed with you over the past week. And though it ended pretty quickly, you found some joy of gaining his attention. It's not like it'll be the last time you see him, as you both arrive at the cemetery same time everyday. Expect Sunday's, you prefer to stay home that day.

"Paying your respects to my father?" You laughed as you walked towards your father's grave to which you were greeted by the boy eyeing the tombstone.

"A lawyer who helped criminals" He turned to meet your eyes, a purple hue analyzing your features for the first time, at least with you looking right at him as he does so.

"Ah, so you did your research. He was-uh, an interesting individual. I never did truly understand him."

"And what about now. With all the news." He was awfully chatty all of a sudden? You nodded your head, though you didn't say anything.

"What's your name?" You dismissed his question.

"I asked you something" he sternly said.

"Yeah, well, I don't feel like answering it. Is that fair?" You balanced back and forth with your hands in your coat pocket.

"Whatever." He scoffed.

"So....?" He looked as if he was contemplating whether or not he should humor your question since you did not answer his.

"Kunikuzushi."

You repeated his name constantly in your head. To say your intrigued by him is a understatement. He certainly made your life a tad bit more interesting. The fact he never asked your name told you he already knew it.

"Let's go on a date." You randomly proposed catching the boy off guard.

"Excuse me?" He coughed out.

"You heard me," you brightly said as you watched him regain his composure. You found his shielded defense personality adorable when he slips up.

"Yeah hard pass."

"Really? So you're telling me you rather be here and watch the same stiff ass tombstone of someone you don't even like than go on a date with a beautiful person such as myself?"

"Hmm, let me think about it.... yeah!"

"Oh be honest Kuni, you come here everyday, same time, in hopes of seeing me."

"In your dreams."

"More like reality asshat"

"Don't project your delusional romantic fantasies onto me."

You rolled your eyes at his rejection to your request. So you resorted to your over-exaggerated groans and heavy sighs of disappointment. And it worked considering the boy's short temper.

"What do you even gain from this date" he massaged the bridged of his nose, you were probably giving him an headache.

"Your attention."

"You have it now, dont you?"

"Yes, but I would rather not be in the same setting with you all the time. It feels like others are intruding on our conversations, dont you think?" You reference to the two tombstones in front of you both.

You don't remember how, but somehow managed to convince the stubborn introverted mysterious boy to go to a cafe near the area with you.

"Dont you find it strange?" You lightly blew on your latte to cool it down.

The boy across the table from you arched a brow. You opened your mouth to clarify your statment.

"I feel like I've known you for the longest time. Its like we're soulmates!"

"Not this again" he groaned in annoyance.

"Haha, okay, I'll stop. But don't you feel it too -" you sighed at the death stare he gave you. "You don't really add much to a conversation."

You both sat in silent till it was his turn to finally contribute to the conversation you so wanted.

"I've seen you in school before."

"Oo tell me more tell me more, like did I have a car!" You sang as a means of encouragement and childness.

"Are you mentally okay?" To your suprise, he lightly chuckled at your randomness.

"Was that a laugh!?!? Little old me made you laugh!?" You put your hand on your chest for an exaggerated expression.

"I will kill you." He smiled disappeared, though you could tell he was biting his cheeks.

"Okay, okay, but as you were saying."

"You get bullied a lot."

"Jee, thanks."

"It clearly bothers you, though you dont show it."

"I mean, I could say the same about you. Same but not the same. I mean, I'm not an asshole but because my dad practically was, I get shitted on. You ARE an asshole and people shit on you for it because your mom was practically an angel"

"Hardly."

"Basically."

You wonder where he was going with the sudden topic, but he took it no further as he drank the rest of his coffee. "Truly are the devil. Black Coffee? No sugar?"

"You can say, I'm just as bitter as it taste."

"I bet you thought you looked really cool as you said that."

"Im leaving."

Not this again. Many lights flashed in your eyes at such a rapid speed. You were sure you'd go blind. The sounds of cameras taking pictures of you in many angels were becoming so overwhelming that you couldn't understand the many questions these reporters were bombarding you with.

Only mumbled voices invaded your head as you desperately tried to find a way out. A mic was shoved in your face as you stared into the camera zooming in your face.

"Huh," you were out of breath, and that was the only word that managed to come out. The reporter pointed the mic towards themselves to repeat their question before returning it to you.

"Do you plan to follow in your Father's footsteps? It was believed one of his clients killed him. Is it true? Did you support your father's action? Are the rumors of his abusive behavior towards you true as well?"

You swore everything was spining, "No?" You said still looking for a way out. Your unsure response caused a uproar of questions. You started to lose your composer.

"Get the fuck of me!" You shoved the mic away from your face as you forcibly pushed your self through the crowd.

This always happened. Why? Because a stupid lawyer decided to help criminals escape from death threatening sentences. And, it was the fact he was good at his job and so willingly used his intelligence to help these horrid human beings is what cursed his name, and in return, you. All for the sake of money.

Seeing the reporters shortly following after you, you started to run in the hopes of losing them. But of course, these drama, thirsty reporters know how to chase down a story.

A sound of a motorcycle raising its engine caught your attention. "Get in" Kunikuzushi's voice called out to you. Never have been more happy to see his face.

You didn't waste any time to climb on the back, grabbing his waist as he sped off, not even caring for the red light that shined. You turned your head watching as the reporters disappeared from your line of sight.

Finally, you can breathe.

You relaxed your body leaning into the warmth of Scaramouche's body. "Thank you."

He didn't say anything, but he never really needs to when it comes to you. His actions always speak louder.

You both had stopped at a convenient store at a quiet neighborhood sitting at the edge of the sidewalk after buying snacks to eat.

"I've should've known you owned a motorcycle." You commented already missing the feeling of being on it.

"I bet you thought I was hot." He smugly said.

"Alright let's not get too cocky now." You mocked.

"But you're not denying it."

You laughed at you stared at the distant forest the blue sky peeking through the leaves.

"They often bother you?" He asked.

You hummed, "Occasionally, but never as much as they did today. Their so fucking annyoing."

"They're just assholes who are trying to make a profit out of other people's misery."

"You can say that again."

"Here," He handed you a side of his wired headphones and you plugged it to your ears. You both zoned out off into to the distance. You both had grown comfortable with each other after your little coffee date, and the ones that shortly came after it.

You perferred to be alone, but you never imagine how good it'd feel to be alone with someone else. The soft music in your ear was slowly lulling you to sleep as you rested your head on Kunikuzushi's shoulder.

Your hands slowly brushed. You almost retracted it back until Kunikuzushi hand firmly sat on top of yours. He let out a shaky breath.

"Fuck." He said softly. How could one cursed so nicely you thought.

"What?"

"I hate you."

"That's cute."

You both laughed. Not the first time he said such a thing but you both knew it was utter bullshit.

"Don't do it." His voice got quiter, more serious. You brought your head back up in confusion towards his vague comment.

"Hmm? Do what?"

"Your stupid email sent early, you clearly didnt mean for it to."

You froze as your heart sank. "I- I." For once you had a lost for words.

"Not yet..... just wait it out. And if it really gets bad then, I'll go with you. Deal?"

"Kuni-" he cut you off.

"Just say yes." He looked at your eyes searching for an answer.

You gently placed your hand on his face, placing a light feathery kiss on his lips, he leaned into your touch holding tightly to the hand on his cheek.

"Yes."

The sun was setting.

[daz4i]

okokok. making a list of. hsr characters with Weird pupil shape (so, not including colored ones - bc pretty much everyone has those - or like, round but elongated bc those are p common too and look more like a stylistic choice. also, only counting pupils, so boothill's target eyes for example do not count). for reasons you can probably guess. organizing them in groups and gonna give some thoughts later

sampo (diamond)

guinaifen (diamond)

topaz (diamond)

lingsha (diamond)

ratio (slit)

yukong (slit)

jiaoqiu (slit)

jade (slit)

acheron (slit)

blade (bro idk how to describe this shape. somewhere between a thin diamond and slit ig)

aventurine (kinda like blade. thin diamond-ish)

kafka (none??)

black swan (also none?)

huohuo (paws) (that's adorable btw)

pela (hexagon)

misha (keyhole)

might've missed some in which case, sorry 😳 i tried my best 🥺

anyway now for my thoughts abt meanings and such:

diamond eyed characters seeeeem to have smth to do with money or gaining etc? except for lingsha. tho she might have that too idk i haven't read her character stories. but if that's really like a purposeful group then that shape makes sense!

misha is not. real. so idk if i need to count him. and he's the only one of his "kind" so it doesn't matter much either hehe

huohuo also seems to be a stylistic choice rather than have meaning

kafka and black swan are. interesting. they have some things in common - both being nihility characters, and knowing wayyyy more than other characters lol - but it's not like they're the only 2 characters who fit that bill 😭 i mean silver wolf knows as much as kafka if not more, and she's also nihility, so. ig they're both extremely chill if that means anything (kafka can't feel fear, but we know black swan can, so it's nothing like that either 😭). idk i'm lost. cool design choice i'll give them that

i'm lost abt pela too ngl. i think other than ratio she's the first character i noticed to have weirdly shaped pupils so that's smth

speaking of. slit gang. they were my original purpose with this post.

jade is obvious. snake goes brrr. or sssss i guess

jiaoqiu and yukong are both foxians, but. these eyes are not foxian exclusive, and other foxians have normal eyes (and huohuo is there also bless her soul). other than that idk if they have much in common either? i'd say smth like being extremely dedicated to their duty/to one person but again it's not exclusive to them so eh.

now acheron and ratio are both interesting in that case.

don't @ me bc i never played another hoyo game so i'm using info i heard through others. but. ik acheron is like this universe's version of a character that exists in other games. so that's cool.

and, there's now a theory running around that ratio knows he's in a game/that star rail's reality in a simulation, in part connected to prometheus from. i wanna say hi3?? who is also bronya and silver wolf or smth (and silver wolf also knows she's in a game as one can probably guess from her lines). i could not tell you more than that

^but what i'm getting at by laying both of these out is that maybe being aware of reality being... not real...? is relevant here? idk how aware acheron is, at least on a conscious level, but i assume there's Something. but then why does silver wolf have normal eyes. help me

aventurine and blade are. interesting. ig trauma and seeing so much death simply fucked up their eyes /j (no seriously i got nothing. being suicidal in hsr's verse just does that)

these are all the thoughts i have for you now 🫡 sorry there are no real conclusions here. honestly i am more laying out info to see if it connects to anything in the future, or for YOU 🫵 dear reader to possibly make connections that i couldn't reach 👍