#you hit the nail on the head exactly
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INCREDIBLE tags from @margridarnauds!! so well said
i love theâŠ. almost horror aspects of this album. all the references to ghosts and deathâŠ. and sonically, the unexpected shrieking in WAOLOM and the banging and screaming during âold habits die screamingâ and even the way the tension subtly builds across the sixteen tracks and by the end youâre so stressed and shaken itâs like! losing your sense of self and feeling like youâve become a monster is horror. and iâm sooooo glad she leaned into it
#obsessed with how you said this#you hit the nail on the head exactly#ttpd#random thoughts with grace#*hits
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assumptions lol -
You're touch-starved but also, shy of people IRL.
You're more social online than IRL.
You have executive dysfunction, generalized anxiety, and occasional to semi-regular depression.
You're a giver, which has probably led to people taking advantage of your kindness on several occasions. It's not necessarily bad to have generosity - but, it's unhealthy if you don't set boundaries for yourself.
You tend to prioritize others over yourself, which can incidentally lead to self-neglect.
You probably tend to worry too much about what others think of you/worry others secretly dislike you, and are only "tolerating," you.
You may struggle with perfectionism, and, give up on a project if it's not "perfect," to your standards. Which can be self-defeating.
You may struggle to view yourself in a positive light - and struggle to accept genuine compliments, though, think highly of your friends, and have no issues with telling them such.
You probably feel more comfortable with animals, than people.
OwO
i hope none of these are offensive? đ€Ł ily fren
i've also studied things like psychology/forensic psychology lmao. did i get any right? đđđ
or am i way off? đ€đ€Ł
V.
V WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HOW'D YOU PSYCHOANALYZE ME TO A PERFECT T?????!!!!!! THIS IS ALL EXTREMELY ACCURATE OH MY FUCKIN GOD. THIS IS LITERALLY EXACTLY ME OH MY GOD.
V I am
Shocked and amazed you so perfectly described me, what the actual hell.
I love you too but holy shit I am in awe of this oh my goodness
#Asks#Ty for the ask!!!#Yakamashi <3#LITERALLY THIS IS EXACTLY ME#LIKE YOU HIT EVERY NAIL ON THE FUCKIN HEAD
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HI First off, thank you and I am SO sorry, I wanted to reply to this ages ago but between my life being turned upside down, being tired as hell and wanting to articulate my thoughts on this, I kept spacing it BUT I'M FINALLY DOING IT NOW
It's important to me that you know that I've been thinking about this ever since I read it, you have such a galaxy brain I love it SO MUCH (and if you ever do find that one fanfic, PLEASE link me!!!)
And if you ever do write this into a fanfic, I would love you forever, I'd owe you my life because this is everything I'd imagine it would go <33
Yeesss, the Amazons are all already immediately planning his death LOL However, I do think they would be a bit conflicted because they see his superspeed and automatically assume he has been gifted by Hermes himself (Barry doesn't correct them, he just says "...Yeah, that's close enough")
Oh yes! They see Diana carry him around and are like "Doesn't your masculinity suffer when you let a woman handle you?" And Barry's just like "No?? Why" The Amazons look at Barry like he just grew green spots and horns lol
OMIGAWD yes, Barry would so be all over their technology, he's like a kid in a candy store, his words all blurring together in a high speed gibberish as he zips around like a blurr aha
Tho he would ask first, of course, if they were comfortable with sharing their tech with someone of the outside world. Barry would very, VERY much want to study it but he would absolutely be respectful of their boundaries and privacy~
YES, like here you have these women who are ready to deal with the worst mankind has to offer and then in comes Barry who just yeets all their expectations and what they thought they knew about men right out the window~ Heck, even the animals on the island all seen to be at ease and around and like Barry, much to everyone's surprise. Barry's bright and cheerful demeanor is very infectious lol
Absolutely!! The Amazons are just SO confused, they're just gesturing to Barry like "what IS this man, how could this MAN ever get close to our princess" lol
Oh yeah, they definitely do the Lasso check on him, 100%. Instead of uncovering any deep-seated misogyny or hidden betrayals, they find out that everything they've seen about Barry really is true, that he really is exactly as he appears to be, everything that Diana says he is. I think this would be the thing that would finally help convince Hippolyta as well as a lot of others at this point (there still be some that would harbor some minor doubts tho, I feel like)
I'm fully aware that this is very biased but I would seriously love it if Barry was one of the main reasons for easing Amazons' hatred of men. In recent comics, he and Hippolyta seem to be on very good terms with each other so, I can definitely see this as a really plausible scenario~
This was the fanart that started it all, lol It was inspired by The New Frontier, the part where Diana just picks up Barry and carries him around and it was so cute, I couldnât pass up the chance to draw it~ I was trying some different coloring styles here, not entirely happy with it but oh well. Practice makes perfect aha
#Me thinking: Don't worry I'll wait until I get more energy and then I'll reply#(Two months pass)#Me: ....dammit#I'm so sorry I hope you didn't think I was ignoring you! Life has been kicking me around OTL#I'm still gushing over all fabulous hcs they are SO GOOD#It's like you saw into my mind#you hit the nail on the head exactly#Thank you SO much for sharing this is my personal canon now <33#dc#dc comics#barry allen#the flash#wonder woman#diana prince#wonderflash#Anyway that's how Barry gains a bunch of big sisters LMAO#I also def he he woukd go on these long tangents about how cool and smart his wife is completely unprompted#Iris be like âYou went to an island full of beautiful and powerful Amazonian women and you DIDN'T TAKE ME WITH YOU?!â#Barry def takes her next time don't worry lol#There isn't enough Barry/Diana stuff in the world I need to make it myself aaaa
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Anon's message was the stupidest thing I've ever read, so here's a better one:
Storytellers are my favorite part of simblr. I love seeing people create art in a non-traditional way. Not to mention that some of the stories on here are mind-blowingly amazing, and I can't believe we just get to read them! For free!!! On simblr!!!! And we get to send them asks and leave them comments and tell them to their faces how much we love their stories. That's a gift, and I love that part of simblr storytelling.
People put in so much effort and learn so many new skills just to tell their stories, and I respect that and am in awe of that. Storytellers are some of the most talented people in this community, and they all blow my breath away. It's my dream to be known for my story, not just my edits and sims, and I hope all storytellers get to feel that too, because they all deserve it.
yes exactly this!! my fingers are starting to hurt form typing so much haha but i agree with this, n i also think everyone should feel inspired to share their art to simblr, whether that's storytelling, edits, gameplay, renders, etc. i love seeing everything u guys create n think it all deserves recognition:)
#jade answers#morrigan sims#hi morri ily#you always hit the nail on the head#ty for typing this for me bc my fingers cannot type any longer OWWWWW but u got exactly my thoughts down#i just love seeing everyone being creative in whichever way is best for them. creativity is good
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2/3 A song that makes you think about love?
youtube
#okay okay okay I KNOW I KNOW HEAR ME OUT FOR A SECOND HERE#it may be twice but this is how it feels!!! this is EXACTLY it they hit the fucking nail on the head i think about it every day#naneun alcohol free geunde chwihae đ masin ge hanado eomneunde#i felt my soul passing away when this hit my spotify wrapped and it was at number one with 43 listens. i cant have been that much of a simp#crying and shaking#otoh this is so embarrassing but i do actually have another entire playlist for songs like this#i.e that i found reminded me of (romantic) love or of my experience with it#half out of down badness and half out of morbid arospec desire to categorise and judge media for accuracy now that ive seen attraction fr#like a mad scientist sorting jarred specimens via clinical trial#the only real caveat is that although it's supposed to be the counterpart ish of the take care playlist it's a lot less themed#so the tracks can be wildly different and got roughly arranged moreso by mood than anything else#but hey i mean if you liked this and are interested in checking it đ€· 's out there
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mdni! 18+
JUST ONE MORE
simonâs hands held your hips steadily as his cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. even with your own height his body almost completely envelopes yours, casting a huge shadow over you. âthaâs it, lovie. right there.â your hands are braced across his chest, pink nails digging into the skin leaving crescent marks across his already scarred flesh.
âs-si. mmmf. canât..canât take anymore.â heâd made you cum a record of four times already, and your body was beginning to falter on top of him. this only seemed to spur him on, as his hips thrusted up once more, cock hitting impossibly deep. every thrust kissed your cervix and massaged your sweet spot, and all you could do was drool and whine as you let him use you.
âjusâ one more. one more fâme, love. then iâll fill you up, yeah?â you moan again, that tight coil in your stomach threatening to snap with each sharp thrust of his hips. he always knew exactly how to make you come undone, leaving you a whimpering, sopping mess on his cock.
he shifted slightly, his fat length hitting a new angle that made you squeal. the room was quiet apart from your desperate whines and the squelch of your cunt. his hand came down to slide between your two bodies, fingers finding your puffy clit and rolling the bud between his fingers. âthas it, feels good, hm? make a mess of that cock and iâll fill you up.â all you could do was stutter out his name as you came down his length, your slick gathering on both your thighs.
âs-si! no more, please. jusââŠjusâ want youâŠâ you could barely string a sentence together, no coherent thoughts being formed in your mind as he seemed to piston even faster into you. soft groans had started to leave his lips now, and you knew he was close. his fingers were digging bruises into your hips, as he held you firmly down on his own.
with one last groan, he came. filling you up with his cum and holding you there. his hips were stuttering and you were whining as your head fell to his shoulder, completely fucked out. âletâs get you cleaned up, lovie.â
#x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#ghost cod#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#call of duty#task force 141#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut
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scary jerma ive done a while ago
#tw eyestrain#tw fast gif#tw flashing#YES!!!!!! YOU HIT THE NAIL RIGHT IN THE HEAD! this is EXACTLY what i wanted to do.#My goal was to do a âhorrorâ gif while trying to minimize the scariness as much as possible#this may seem counterintuitive but the first part of this was tuning the visual part of the âscarinessâ of the image#not too much that it's not actually scary#but not too little that it's unrecognizable from horror and could just be labeled as weirdcore or something.#but now the secret sauce: it's possible to cancel out the âfearâ factor completely without messing with the âhorrorâ vibe#by subverting the âscaryâ into a source of humor#that's where the âgoofy ahh weirdcore captionâ and the jerma gif comes in. it's kinda like a parody#extra context: i'm the type of person that gets scared too easily by horror movies#sorry for such a late response lol im on hiatus and i just wanted to read some comments#but i loved your observation#tumblr tag system IS SO BUGGY#nuked_for_ai_protest
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â„ being kento nanami's wife
warnings: nanami being the best husband ever, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of breeding, nanami lowkey being a sugardaddy
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 591
Kento Nanami fucking loves his wife.
Everything about her was perfect, right down to the letter. The way your hair framed your pretty face just right made it look like a framed painting in the Met. The way your eyes shined like the most expensive gems in the whole world whenever you saw him after such a long day in the office. The way you would bound towards him the second Nanami entered his house, tackling him against the wall with hugs and kisses and his favorite dinner on the table that only you could properly make.Â
The way you dressed up for him, no matter how silly his requests were. He brings home a new designer dress? Youâre throwing a nice belt over it so it shows off the waist that Nanami so loves to caress and hold. He got you some new pumps? Youâre walking around in them for at least a couple of weeks; the way your ass looked even better due to the arch support in the heels. Has he bought you new and expensive lingerie from Paris? Youâre all dressed up for him, displayed on the silk sheets of your Alaskan king mattress, looking like a present for him to unwrap. Nanami loved that he didnât even have to ask you for these things; you just did them to make him happy. You, the most perfect wife, knew precisely what he wanted the minute he wanted it.Â
And you were so good in the bedroom, so well-behaved, always doing exactly what he wants with no questions asked. Nanami wants you from behind? Ass up, face down in seconds with your dripping cunt on display for him to play with at his whim. Angry at a coworker that was being an asshole to him? Heâs taking his anger out by fucking you stupid, your pretty wrists bound above your head with his spotted tie as he ranted and complained about his coworkers while pistoning in and out of your pussy without a thought for how many orgasms youâve already had. Did you complete all your chores today and got caught up on tomorrow as well? He has you sitting on his face, riding his tongue as he desperately laps at your delicious arousal, his strong hands wrapping themselves around your plush thighs so you couldnât squirm away.Â
His cock was so painfully huge as well, long and girthy and oh so veiny with the prettiest pink tip that was constantly kissing your cervix. Nanami thinks itâs adorable how you swore up and down that you could handle his dick every time, babbling nonsense into his ear as he fucked you so expertly with his appendage. Your nails scratching and clawing at his back as your legs wrapped around his thin waist, shaking and twitching as another orgasm hit you like a runaway train. You could never say no to your handsome husband, but he always knew when you wanted to stop cumming and just cuddle, usually after heâs cum inside of you a couple of times.
His muscular frame cuddles you every night, no matter the temperature of the room. His arms pull you against his chest, scared you would disappear once morning came. Nanami often fell asleep to the sound of your cute little kitten snores, mesmerized by how his hickeys danced a ballet on your pretty neck. Every morning, he would wake up, and you would be in the kitchen, happily making his breakfast and humming a little tune.
Fuck, Kento Nanami fucking loves you.Â
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento#jjk kento#nanami smut#nanami x reader#kento nanami smut
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How Sylus fucks you when he overstimulates you
A/N: I couldn't resist turning a cold mean man into a slight softie for us :'). If you prefer colder/meaner Sylus then please ignore this post and block me! <3
Tags: Stylus x Reader, reader is not Mc, Fem!Reader, creampie, clit rubbing, praise, use of "sweetie", slight dumbification, sloppy kisses, overstim, slight belly bulge
It was rare for Sylus to be very gentle in bed. Not saying he was aggressive and manhandled you every time, but he wasn't exactly mother Theresa. He usually had a bruising grip on your hips while pounding into you, one hand making it's way to your face, forcing you to watch his face or watch as his cock slid into you.
But then there were the nights where you begged for more, your eyes teary and hips bucking up to antagonize him. He'd give you what you want, slamming his hips back into yours until you fell apart on his cock and your mind practically snapped. He'd be gentle if you asked any night, but it was when you couldn't ask that he did it unprompted.
"There we go, sweetie." He pulled your body against his chest, hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed down and he fucked his cum deeper in. He came three times already, his cum dripping down the base of his cock after it leaked from your cunt.
His right hand slid up your back and he rubbed your hair, kissing your head. "A-ah...Sylus..." You buried your face in his chest, legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned slightly when your nails weakly dug into his back, hitting the scratch marks you left the night prior.
"So needy.." he rolled his hips up into you, smirking at your gasp. His cock hit all the right spots like it was made for you. He sped up slightly, watching as your hips bounced up slightly.
You lean back slightly, putting a little space between your chests. "So hot..." Your voice came out as a small whine, your body slick with sweat. Sylus held onto your waist with one hand as the other slid down from your neck, cupping a breast.
Sylus leaned in and blew cold air onto your neck, making you shiver. He smirked and kissed your neck softly, licking the slick skin. His hips moved slightly faster, his skin slapping against yours.
"Fuck...oh God.." you cry out slightly as he pressed your back against the bed, his hand on your waist holding onto the headboard. "Damn it.." he huffed slightly when you squeezed around him, his eyebrows knitting down.
He bottomed out and went all the way to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix. You cry out and turn your head to the side, clawing at a pillow. His balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the sound mixed in with the already lewd noises of your moans and wet slapping.
You desperately slid your hand down to rub your neglected clit, which earned Sylus slapping your hand away. He pressed his thumb to your clit and rubbed it weakly, his gentle touch making you yearn for more.
"Sylus-"
"You can handle it."
He rubbed harder and your toes curled. Your head fell back and a silent scream left you as you came. Sylus groaned when you squirt on his cock, hips squirming like crazy. He grabbed your hips and forced you as close as possible when he came. His balls tightened and you felt his seed pump into you for the third time that night, making your stomach bulge ever so slightly.
A minute later he pulled out with a wet 'shulp', his cock limp and covered with cum and slick. Your eyes were barely open and your whole body trembled. Sylus picked you up and cradled you to his chest, walking over to the large couch in his room.
"You got the bed dirty. Not like I mind. But I need to fix it first." He sat you down on the couch and covered you up with his coat, smiling when you curled up under it. He kissed your head and put on a robe.
You fell asleep before he could even start.
--
Requests are open! :3
#fem reader#x reader#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus smut#sylus l&ds#rafayel x reader#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#sylus is so YUMMY
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it's transmisogynist of you to assume you can say something is or isn't "TERF rhetoric" when neither of you are transfem.
come at the problem from a different angle
Since the beginning of this project, I have made a point not to discuss my own life in depth. You have no way of knowing my gender, whether I am cisgender, transgender, genderfluid, or nonbinary. You also know almost nothing about the gender of Dean, the editor of this project. This assumption that both of us are cisgender is not harmless.
Remember Becky Abertalli? She is the author of Simon VS. The Homo sapiens Agenda, well I want to quote something she wrote:
"Having your book adapted to a film brings a lot of notoriety and attention, especially online, and itâs not always the fun kind. Unsurprisingly, there was quite a bit of discourse about my identity â how could there not be? Love, Simon was the first gay teen rom com to be released widely by a major film studio, and it was based on a book written by an allocishet woman. Yes, the filmâs director was openly gay. No, not everyone cared (frankly, a lot of people still donât know Love, Simon was based on a book). But in many online spaces, my straightness was a springboard for some â legitimately important â conversations about representation, authenticity, and ownership of stories. And for some people, my straightness was enough to boycott the film entirely.
Then Leah on the Offbeat came out about a month later, and the discourse exploded all over again. There were thinkpieces based on the premise that I, a straight woman, clearly knew nothing about being a bi girl. There were tweets and threads and blog posts, and just about every single one I came across mentioned my straightness. And when Leah debuted on the NYT list, authors I admired and respected tweeted their disappointment that this âfirstâ had been taken by a straight woman. Of course, Leah wasnât the first f/f YA book to hit the New York Times list. And maybe people were wrong about the other stuff too. But the attention and scrutiny were so overwhelming, and it all hurt so badly, I slammed the lid down on that box and forgot Iâd ever cracked it open.
At least I didnât remember I remembered.
I deleted the sexuality labels from my website. I declined to answer certain questions in interviews. Iâd get quietly, passionately indignant when people made assumptions about other authorsâ gender identities and sexualities. And Iâd feel uncomfortable, anxious, almost sick with nerves every time they discussed mine.
And holy shit, did people discuss. To me, it felt like there was never a break in the discourse, and it was often searingly personal. I was frequently mentioned by name, held up again and again as the quintessential example of allocishet inauthenticity. I was a straight woman writing shitty queer books for the straights, profiting off of communities I had no connection to.
Because the thing is, I called myself straight in a bunch of early interviews.
But labels change sometimes. Thatâs what everyone always says, right? Itâs okay if youâre not out. Itâs okay if youâre not ready. Itâs okay if you donât fully understand your identity yet. Thereâs no time limit, no age limit, no one right way to be queer.
And yet a whole lot of these very same people seemed to know with absolute certainty that I was allocishet. And the less certain I was, the more emphatically strangers felt the need to declare it. Apparently it was obvious from my writing. Simonâs fine, but it was clearly written by a het. You can just tell. Her books arenât really for queer people.
You know whatâs a mindfuck? Questioning your sexual identity in your thirties when every self-appointed literary expert on Twitter has to share their hot take on the matter. Imagine hundreds of people claiming to know every nuance of your sexuality just from reading your novels. Imagine trying to make space for your own uncertainty. Imagine if you had a Greek chorus of internet strangers propping up your imposter syndrome at every stage of the process.
The thing is, I really do believe in the value of critically discussing books, particularly when it comes to issues of representation. And I believe in the vital importance of Ownvoices stories. Most of the identities represented in my books are Ownvoices. But I donât think we, as a community, have ever given these discussions the care and nuance they deserve.
Consider the origin of the Ownvoices hashtag. It was created in 2015 by author Corinne Duyvis, with the purpose of highlighting stories written by authors who share the same marginalized identities as their characters. But Corinne has always emphasized caution when it comes to using Ownvoices to determine which authors can tell which stories. And sheâs been incredibly clear and emphatic about not weaponizing the term to pressure authors to disclose private aspects of their identities.
So why do we keep doing this? Why do we, again and again, cross the line between critiquing books and making assumptions about author identities? How are we so aware of invisible marginalization as a hypothetical concept, but so utterly incapable of making space for it in our community?
Let me be perfectly clear: this isnât how I wanted to come out. This doesnât feel good or empowering, or even particularly safe. Honestly, Iâm doing this because Iâve been scrutinized, subtweeted, mocked, lectured, and invalidated just about every single day for years, and Iâm exhausted. And if you think Iâm the only closeted or semi-closeted queer author feeling this pressure, you havenât been paying attention.
And Iâm one of the lucky ones! Iâm a financially independent adult. I canât be disowned. I come from a liberal family, I have an enormous network of queer friends and acquaintances, and my livelihood isnât even remotely at risk. Iâm hugely privileged in more ways than I can count. And this was still brutally hard for me. I canât even imagine what itâs like for other closeted writers, and how unwelcome they must feel in this community.
Even as I write this, Iâm bracing for the inevitable discourse â I could draft the twitter threads myself if I wanted to. But Iâd rather just make a few things really clear. First, this isnât an attempt to neutralize criticism of my books, and youâre certainly entitled to any reactions you might have had to their content. Second, Iâm not asking you to validate my decision to write Simon (or What If Itâs Us, or mlm books in general).
But if I can ask for something, itâs this: will you sit for a minute with the discomfort of knowing you may have been wrong about me? And if your immediate impulse is to scrutinize my personal life, my marriage, or my romantic history, can you try to check yourself?
Or how about this: can we all be a bit more careful when we engage in queer Ownvoices discourse? Can we remember that our carelessness in these discussions has caused real harm? And that the people weâre hurting rarely have my degree of privilege or industry power? Can we make space for those of us who are still discovering ourselves? Can we be a little more compassionate? Can we make this a little less awful for the next person?"
Hello, I am the next person. I am the author who isn't lucky enough to disclose every single one of their marginalizations on social media, and I deserve better than this.
If you have a problem with any of the points I made, feel free to share that, but you do not get to assign me an identity just so you can attack me for it.
#yeah. allies are part of the community for a reason#if you keep excluding cis allies from the conversation who does that help exactly?#we need allies to help identify and raise awareness of queerphobic attitudes and behaviours#they might not always hit the nail on the head but we wouldn't even be heard by a wider audience without the allies ' support#long post
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I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY ; SUGURU GETO
synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.
word count; 6.2k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really thatâs literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33
a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) đđ i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me
youâre cold.
little shivers run through your body, trail down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt â a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and all you manage is a weak jolt.
dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents â wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path. little petals, glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.
itâd be comforting, were it not for one simple fact;Â
you donât have an umbrella.
at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, youâre absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it â you were stupid to think youâd get out of it unscathed. your shoes are ruined, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead.
you let out a shuddering breath.Â
gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguruâs warnings over breakfast, despite all those dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didnât think itâd be this bad. you just felt so helpless.
you just couldnât stay there.
some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.
so, yeah, maybe you werenât thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you werenât thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green.Â
(he put it there just for you.)
maybe you werenât thinking much at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between; that fact only adds to the sting of his cold voice, still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.
you were just worried. is that so awful?Â
(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)
a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated, undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, feeling this bitter, hate feeling like youâve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him â hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary.Â
it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are, when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, and your eyes were already turning glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone is enough to make you feel like youâve done nothing right all your life.
so you left. because that was all you could do.Â
sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and youâre awfully cold â but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know heâd try to soothe you, know heâd feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing.Â
(all the more pathetic.)
so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasnât been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still havenât fully calmed down. you still donât know how to face him. but â
but fuck, itâs cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does.Â
another sigh â more resigned this time â slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, youâre almost certain youâre going to catch a cold, and itâs getting late. youâre all alone, and itâs raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless.Â
you want to go home.
itâll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow â without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe youâll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.
youâre just too tired to argue anymore.
he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguruâs been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.
but he just brushed you off.
and, well, maybe you shouldâve backed off after that. maybe you shouldâve taken that as a sign that suguru didnât feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.
suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you donât need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk â and itâs frustrating, but youâve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.
but then he grew frustrated.
âsuguru⊠youâve been working so much, iâm ââ you bite down on your bottom lip. âiâm just worried that youâre overdoing it.â â⊠god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].â âbut â you just look so tired ââ âwell, iâm sorry for that.â a cold smile. âam i not living up to your expectations?â
(thatâs not what you meant. he knows thatâs not what you meant.)
and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden.Â
pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection youâre so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.
pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.
god, youâre exhausted. you just want to sleep â canât you have that, at least? just that one thing? you donât mind sleeping on the couch, donât mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while.Â
your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel âÂ
while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples.Â
and youâre there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.
for a second, you hesitate.
maybe heâs still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe youâre just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just â
but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.
and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.
you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie â heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.
in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away.Â
almost, because itâd be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.
and before you can think the thought to do anything else, youâve locked eyes with him â arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.
(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)
not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you canât really read his expression â youâre a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.
you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.
and then heâs walking away again.Â
crestfallen. thatâs probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.
it hurts. you want to cry. you canât help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happenâŠÂ
another part was still hoping heâd be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again mightâve fixed everything.
but he didnât even give you that.
thatâs that, then. thereâs nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. youâll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. youâll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrowâs you to handle.Â
for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you donât have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything.Â
you donât have to think about him at all.Â
(donât think. donât think. donât â)
â the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.
a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.
once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify â
worry.
(ah.)
before you can say anything, heâs draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you canât help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.
âare you cold?â he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. âyouâre soakedâŠâ
suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way heâs caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.
and, more than anything, the feeling of suguruâs big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you canât help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you donât stay perfectly still, just like this.
itâs soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.
you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ânah, âm fineâŠâ
the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguruâs brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.
(he hates how small you look. like youâre curling in on yourself.)
as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because thatâs what always happens after the two of you argue â which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper.Â
he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed outâŠ
he could only feel guilty.
and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back.Â
and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.
(you didnât bring an umbrella.)
suguru waited. that was all he could do.Â
he didnât think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you â scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you werenât answering his calls, and he didnât want to overwhelm you, didnât want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.
so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly â and that was all he needed.Â
and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.
like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.
it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with â
and now heâs here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother.Â
suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that youâll take the bait.
(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)
so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; heâd make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skinâŠ
he failed at maintaining his composure.
he needs to make it up to you. despite everything â even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame â he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.
âhang on,â he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. âiâll go draw you a bathâŠâ
âah â no need,â you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you donât really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. âiâll just take a quick shower.â
suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely â
but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad.Â
â⊠okay. got it.â
perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way youâll allow, like always, but he thinks itâs worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.
âi can make you tea?â he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.
but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.
âtea would be great, thank you.â
you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. âiâll just take a shower in the meantime,â you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go.Â
he swallows thickly.
(thatâs that, then.)
tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? heâll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.
suguruâs mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldnât help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.
caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom â stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.
only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.
youâre clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie â his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards â the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric.Â
seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguruâs chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he canât bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly heâs almost sure you notice it.
âi made peppermint,â he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. âthat okay?â
âyeah,â you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. youâd have been fine with anything, really.
the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, thatâs all you need.Â
with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.
(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually youâd sit right next to him. but now youâre in front of him, so very far â as if youâre strangers.
it breaks his heart, a little bit.)
a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea â all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. itâs relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.
suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.
finally, he opts to clear his throat â and your attention falls on him instantly.
âhey,â he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. âabout beforeâŠâ
your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. thereâs a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguruâs tone of voice â and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesnât make it any less harrowing.
here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.
with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort.Â
(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)
âitâs fine, suguru,â you cut him off. softly, but thereâs a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. âwe can just drop it.â
the decision in his eyes doesnât waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when youâre undoubtedly tired â but suguruâs mind is set. heâs been evasive enough, today.
âno. i want to talk about it properly.â
at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he wonât allow you to wriggle away, now that youâre both finally calm. heâs not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of âwinningâ the argument â heâs doing it because he knows itâs the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.
communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.
and you do, too.
so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.
(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)
suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you canât help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.
âi had a lot of time to think while you were gone,â he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.
you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.
âand i realized that you were right.â
âŠ
you blink. once, then twice.
hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguruâs gaze. he isnât looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.
he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.
it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. heâs had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited.Â
so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.
âiâm always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thingâŠâ another sigh. âyou were just worried. i shouldnât have lashed out â you didnât deserve that.â
suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but theyâre warm, remorseful. a setting sun.
âiâm sorry.â
a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology.Â
and suddenly, you feel silly â silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldnât spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.
suguru can be stubborn, if heâs convinced that heâs in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective.Â
and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didnât do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.
suguru isnât perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get â for you, for the both of you. heâs considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. thatâs how much he loves you.Â
and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground â how could you ever bear not to do the same?
â⊠itâs fine,â you start, softly. âmaybe i overreacted a bit. âs just ââ a gulp. youâre trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.
and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.
âi donât like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, butâŠâ your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping heâll understand what you mean. âyou know.â
and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.
âi know,â he murmurs, softly. âit wasnât an overreaction. i just didnât realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,â a sharp exhale leaves his lips. âitâs been⊠a long week. iâm not using that as an excuse, though.â
you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.
to let you take care of him.
suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks â a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this â but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what heâs trying to say.Â
so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.
âiâm grateful that i have you,â he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. âand that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.â
and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when itâs subtle. this was no exception. youâre always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.
but heâll make up for all of that, starting now.
âi mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea â iâm so sorry if i made you think otherwise.â for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. âi really, really am.â
(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently â
how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)
you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart.Â
â⊠i was just worried,â you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks.Â
âi know,â suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. âi was being immature. you were right â iâve been burning myself out.â
you donât say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.
âi was thinking of taking tomorrow off,â he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. âwhat do you say?â
you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguruâs patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.
âthatâd be niceâŠâ you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that itâs exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.
a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms.Â
âthen i will.â
for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs â that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink.Â
oh.Â
you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguruâs eyes â and then you finally get up from your seat.
it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still canât help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but itâs suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.
and you want that more than anything.Â
so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.
it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss â happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everythingâs finally alright.
and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didnât know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and youâre so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that heâs more than happy to provide.
how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back â but in the midst of all the paperwork and stressâŠ
suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.
âand iâm sorry for neglecting you, too,â he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.
that certainly gets your attention.
âneglecting me?â you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. âwha â what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didnât neglect me.â
suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.
âwell, iâm sorry for not being around much, then. iâll make it up to you. okay?â
hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguruâs heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.
and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. itâs soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguruâs embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen â itâd be impossible not to relax.
before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.
âyou sleeping, baby?â
you jolt a little in his arms â murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.
âcâmon. letâs get you to bed, hm?âÂ
suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. âthere we go,â he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. âyou can sleep, angel. iâve got you.â
your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. youâll coddle him all day.
but for now, you need to get some rest.
allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when youâre in his steady grasp.
a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.
you donât miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.
#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#geto fluff#geto hurt/comfort#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk hurt/comfort
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NSFW - MDNI
He's obsessed with your voice. He loves the way you whimper and just struggle your words out. He loves to to tease, he LIVES to tease you. He's so mean whe he asks what you want, just so he can deny it and command you to beg for it.
He's buried deep inside of you, barely able to hold himself up, panting heavily. He looks down at the pretty face you're making and he can't help but think that the only thing that would make it better is the sound of your beautiful voice.
"Tell me what you want, baby" he breathes in your ear, dropping his head down to your neck. He stopped moving. His hot breath hitting your heated skin. "I asked you somethin'~" he hums leaning back down to press kiss over your shoulder. You can practically feel his smirk in his voice.
"Please-" is all you're able to stutter out at first and it makes him grin onto your skin as he lifts his head to shake it at you. "Naw, I couldn't quite hear you princess,.. you should use bigger words for your needs?" there's this pout on his face, he's mocking you. Out of desperation you kiss him, in hopes that he could possibly forget about your loss of words.
He indulges you for a few seconds before pulling away and raising his eyebrow at you. That's when you realise he's serious; he really won't move an inch until you tell him exactly what you want. "Please-, just.. fuck me" you whine, you know it won't be enough for him but you hope it is because if he doesn't move in the next thirty seconds you feel you might combust. You honestly don't know what will combust, but something is definitely blowing up and its also gonna be you.
"Good start, baby, but it's not enough" he chuckles at your responding whine and buries his head into you neck chuckling. Although this is more than entertaining, he also has to hide the fact this is just as agonizing for him like it is for you. "How do you want it, hm? Tell me how you want me to fuck you." "Please, just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me dumb. Fuck me so hard you break me, the bed or the wall. I don't care just please fuck me" you desperately shout out in embarrassment.
He lets out an elated laugh, this is exactly what he wants to hear. He leans in to kiss you and ends up muffling the happy whine you let out when he finally starts moving. But quickly you feel dizzy, you're beyond coherent words at this point. You can't even think straight. He feels so good inside you that you almost go crazy. You instinctively grab at his skin, raking your nails over his shoulder blades. He loves being able to get you like this, he loves listen to you break like this. You and the pretty noises you make are all his to enjoy....
Kageyama, Tsukishima, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Suna, Tendou, Terushima (haikyuu)
Kaeya, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Itto, Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Dottore, Pantalone (genshin)
Geto, Nanami, Gojo, Toji (JJK)
Hisoka, Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks (HxH)
Rafayel (love and deepspace)
Leona, Lilia, Jade, Floyd, Ace, Trey (twst wonderland)
#x female reader#x fem!reader#genshin x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#haikyuu x reader#jjk x reader#love and deepspace x reader#hxh x reader#kaeya x reader#ayato x reader#itto x reader#scaramouche x reader#dottore x reader#pantalone x reader#ace trapolla x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#nanami x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#toji x reader#rafayel x reader#kageyama x reader#matsukawa x reader#tsukishima x reader#kuroo x reader#wriothesley x reader
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wow I love them
Resting in the snipers nest.
#not a scout nor sniper fan#but this is exactly how they would be congrats you hit the nail on the head#i love them so much#also I saw that tag about redrawing I will. that is not a joke#if you seriously want someone to redraw this I love it and will
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can't take it? (enha's hyung line)Â
enha's hyung line when reader has high stamina and can go multiple rounds.
pairing: hyung line x afab!reader
my's note: unironically just thought about it and wrote it lol
warnings: established relationship, pet names (baby, darling, babe, angel, pretty) SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, implied unprotected sex (please, don't!!!), implied multiple orgasms, cowgirl, dirty talk, overstimulation (both), oral (f. receiving), fingering, lowkey nipple play, choking, belly bulge kink(?), they cum inside. lmk if i missed something!!!
wc (total): 1.8k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist đ: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers
Heeseung would see it as a challenge and force himself through it even though he's teetering on the edge of giving up.
âFâFuck, HeeâŠâ You cried out, your body jolting, exposed breasts moving up and down to your boyfriendâs hard and deep thrusts inside your dripping cunt.
You didnât know exactly what to do with your hands as the overwhelming feeling grew in your lower stomach, indicating your second climax coming. Torn in between kneading your boobs and rubbing your own clit, you tried to give the best view to Heeseung.
But he wore an expression of intense focus, as if his sole purpose in life was to make you cum uncountable times. And to some extent, it was. His fingers were deep in your hips, holding you still as he just kept going, eyes focused on where you both encountered.
In and out. In and out. In and out.
Heeseung didnât care about overstimulating you â or himself. No, definitely not. So when you announced you had your orgasm, he continued on thrusting hard, fast, deep, tirelessly hitting your g-spot with his sensitive tip, since he had already cummed two times as well.
âSâtoo muchââ You mumbled, shaking your head, squirming under the pressure he held to keep you stay as possible. âTooâ MuchâAh, fuck, Heeââ
âTake it.â He managed to say, voice hoarse, low, determined, though his body was starting to betray his primal will.
The slapping sounds flooded the room as a lascivious, beautiful symphony. Heeseung looked up to catch a glimpse of hooded eyes and fucked out expression. He smirked, feeling proud of himself for leading you to the edge of insanity.Â
Your nails scraped down his back when he leaned closer, slotting perfectly in between your legs that wrapped around his waist, leaving red trails as you clawed at him for any sort of grounding.
âHee, I c-canâtâ!â Your protest dissolved into a broken moan when his thumb found your overstimulated clit, circling it in unwavering motions.
Heeseungâs warm mouth found place on your hardened nipples, playing with them by swirling his tongue around it and sucking just slightly, his pace never lacking, giving you an overwhelming experience of stimulus; you felt Heeseung everywhere.Â
You winced, skin tingling in despair as you cried beneath him, a complete whining mess. You were loving each second, head spinning and your chest pounding strongly; your tongue quickly swept on the corner your lips to clean your light drooling and consequently tasted the salty taste of your tears.
Heeseung trailed his hot muscle up to kiss you, a hint of a victorious grin gracing his lips as he watched you lose yourself before him. His only objective was to tire you and win that fucking stupid inner challenge.Â
âYou wanted it,â he groaned, close to your ear. You whimpered, feeling another wave of pleasure crossing you. âFucking take it.â
Jay would politely ask for a break ever once and a while, falling on the bed, panting, struggling to find words in between heavy breaths.
âOh, fuck,â Jay grunted, his body trembling slightly, thighs burning after rolling his hips in an admirable constancy.
He had cummed one time already with you positioned in all fours, but he could feel his second orgasm just as close.
âFuck, fuck, fuckââ he chanted, jaw clenching, his digits pressing your sides with a strength that got you clenching harder, knowing it would leave marks. You loved to be marked by Jay.
Under Jayâs sight, you looked extra gorgeous with your face down and ass up, rocking back and forth within each pound, moans getting lost in between the lewd slapping sounds. You could feel his balls smacking against your pussy, sending vibrations straight to your clit and a rush of delight towards your core.
âJay!â You nearly screamed, but your voice got lost in the pillow you had buried your face.Â
Still, your mouth fell open, the tears in the corner of your closed eyes smearing your makeup and staining the pillowcase, your hands fisting the bed as you whined Jayâs name.
Soon after, you felt his warm liquid filling you up again, your own release mixing with it and making a mess.Â
Jay pumped a few more times to ride you in your high before dropping himself by your side, panting hard, body still weak due to the effort of pleasing you. He had his eyes fluttered close as he tried to regain his composure, air difficulty making its way down his burning lungs. He felt his throat dry and groaned when you turned his body upwards.Â
âJust⊠A sec⊠Please⊠DarlingâŠâ He said in between ragged breaths and you giggled, grabbing the bottle of water on the nightstand and handing it to him, watching his neck moving as he drank on it.
After he finished and you drank a bit yourself, you shot him a glance. He quivered, eyes widening a little.Â
âWant more,â you mumbled, straddling on the bed just to position yourself on top of him. âBut donât worry, Iâve got you,â and with a wink and a smirk mischievously dancing on your lips, you aligned Jayâs softened dick on your folds, starting to grind back and forth.
All he could do was to rest his hands on your hips and pray not to pass out.
Jake would be so tired after the first round but he mastered the art of making you cum with his tongue and fingers a few times before fucking you.
The slurping sounds echoed through the room as lascivious as the wet noises of Jakeâs fingers. He was switching in between fucking you with his tongue and with his slender digits, the same ones that would curl on the exact shape to hit your sensitive spot.
You had no idea of how much you have cummed, your cries entering Jakeâs ears deliciously and traveling all the way down to his leaking cock.Â
He was so fucking turned on by your pretty sounds and your body searching for his own, searching for pleasure on his mouth and fingers. He could spend hours with his head buried between your legs; the pressure of your thighs against it was too good to dismiss, the sweet taste of your pussy melting on his palatar was addictive.Â
Jake loved how high your libido was, nearly matching his own. However, he would be extra tired after having his orgasm, so he just learned how to get yourself done until he finished fucking you deep and hard.
âGod, Jakeâ Your fingersâ So goodââ You threw your head on the pillow as your back arched, your hips grinding on his face and hands shamelessly.Â
âLike my fingers, babe?â He asked within a grin, trying to ignore his aching dick screaming for some friction.Â
Jake didnât want to rut on the mattress, because he had a job to do and it was to fill you up with his seed after eating you out for who knows how long. His hands were messy with your juice, just like the sheets beneath you two. He couldnât care less.
To have you, screaming his name just with his fingers and tongue was satisfying at most for him to worry about bed clothing.Â
You nodded, lost into the blissful desire Jake provided so perfectly. You jolted forward when you felt his lips sucking on your clit, his fingers now far gone from your pulsing hole as he licked your folds, lapping his tongue with precision, nearly making out with your cunt.
âCummingââ You whispered with a broken voice, just to scream after; the grip on Jakeâs locks tightening, eliciting a moan from him.Â
He chuckled, drinking from your arousal just like it was his favorite drink.
âGive me one more and then I fuck you with my cock, yeah?â
Sunghoon would match your energy. If you can go for a whole fucking night, so does he.Â
âYeah, ride my fucking dick, baby,â Sunghoon moaned, brows furrowing with how warm and wet you were around him, swallowing every centimeter of his shaft.
You were on top of him, bouncing, riding, doing anything that gave you the euphoria of being fulfilled. Both emotionally and physically.Â
Sunghoon definitely loved you, and the biggest proof was when he started doing gym just to match your stamina in bed, now able to follow you throughout the whole night without tiring too much. He could do it just fine before, but he wanted to be sure he was giving you the best. Always.
âFucking shit, so good,â he bit his lip, smirking, admiring the view of your boobs jumping as you tried new ways to pleasure yourself, his eyes wandering each curve of your body. You felt his dick throbbing inside you. âMy baby is so good, feels so good,â he said in between moans as his hands gripped your hips to help you.
You decided to grind back and forth, the last two orgasms helping to ease the movements; your lips were parted chanting Sunghoonâs name like a beautiful, addictive mantra.Â
He could feel how you started to squeeze his dick in no time, his finger sliding towards your clit to give just enough of friction.Â
âI love your cockââ You slurred, drunk in Sunghoonâs scent getting all over you. The feeling of his hard length nearly destroying you inside was too good not to vocalize. âLove it so fucking muchâ So big, so deepâ MhmâŠâ You sounded⊠delighted, as if you were experiencing the best sensation of your life â and you were.Â
Your exposed neck as you threw your head back invited Sunghoon's long fingers to wrap around it gently, just to give a light press that interrupted your airways to work properly for a few seconds. Your mind entered a haze of ecstasy, one that got you accelerating your riding almost instantly and seeking for your release as soon as possible.
The coil in your stomach tightened, and at some point you started to notice you could feel Sunghoonâs dick in there as well. One of your hands gave away the support you found on his chest just to press your belly, provoking Sunghoonâs hips to buck forward as he felt the slight pressure.Â
âFâFuck,â he stammered, letting go from your neck and clit to hold you still on top of him, starting to thrust frantically. âCum for me, angelâ Cum with me.â
As if a command, your moans increased the volume, so did Sunghoonâs thrusts, until you came all over his body, your juices mixed with his seed coating his dick and part of his stomach.
He gave you nearly seconds to recompose, maneuvering your body to lay back on the bed. You both smirked, because you knew what was coming.Â
âWeâre in for a long night, pretty.â
#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen drabbles#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#jake x reader#jake smut#jay x reader#jay smut#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#heegyukeluv works
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I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)
Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.
But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your wombâ making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.
You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.
"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccatoâ short, quick jabsâ and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.
The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spitâ can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.
Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.
Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you downâ his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.
If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hipsâ can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.
You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffensâ swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.
He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.
Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.
"Johnny?"
"Aye, bonnie?"
"Since when do you drink bourbon?"
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley x reader#cod#simon riley x reader#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish smut#simon ghost riley smut#cod smut#johnny soap mctavish x reader#simon riley x you#drabble
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thinking about kuna's gf trying to convince him to let her paint his long nails đ
⩠⧠Ë. â tags âź fem! reader, pure fluff, heian! era sukuna, panting his nails, meanie kuna but heâs a softie, petnames: little one, woman, girl.
âno.â
a downcasted frown drags against your glossed lips once you sigh. sitting on no one other than sukunaâs lap, you huff out a single vexed breath. âhuhh. what do you mean no, i didnât even ask my question yet.â
âexactly,â he replies in a low voice, leaning back against the ancient, comfortable throne. for a fleeting moment, dark, sinister eyes stare into yours before he cocks his head. âyouâre gonna ask me another one of your imprudent questions.â
âkuna, just let me ask you the question,â you protest, straddling the king of cursesâ it was never a dull moment with him, regardless of how grumpy he turns out to be. knowing sukuna, heâs almost always grumpy. his eyes gaze into you a bit longer and he then brings his thickset upper arms to cross near his chest, a cute pout on his lips as he waits for you to finish speaking. âpretty please?â
ââŠâŠ.fine,â he gives in, aware that you were probably gonna persist on asking him for who knows how many more times. with a sigh, he tilts his head at you. âwhat is it you wish to ask me, little one?â
smug grin and all, you pick up his broad hand that was so much larger than yours, brushing a thumb against his wrist before cooing, âcan i paint your nails, sukuna?â
âno.â
âsukuna!â
heâs leaning back against his throne, the well raised chair sitting up all high and mightyâone of his arms repose near the lower part of his torso and wraps around your hip, pulling you closer.
âyou already know what my answer was gonna be, no?â and this time, you give him a pout.
dewey red-shot eyes peer into you for a lengthy amount of time before he groans. that cute little pout of yours, you never fail to make everything so hard for him. âhmph. why do you want to paint my nails? theyâre clearly already painted, woman.â
heâs trying..
you hold back a giggle before bringing one of his hands up to your face.
glimmering eyes focus on his nails, how naturally long they wereâ he had a point though, they were pretty much already painted. full on richly black, the tips of them were oh-so sharp heâd be able to cut about just anything. still, you wanted to paint his nails yourself. you couldnât really come up with a good enough answer, so you just shrug.
âi just want to,â you hum in a soft voice, intertwining your fingers with his.
he scoffs, showing little to no reaction. with a puny eyebrow raise, you feel his right thigh start to gradually bounce. âplease, ryooo,â you mutter, tugging your eyebrows into a pleading, needy furrow. âthis way, we can match.â
âgoodness, youâre so annoying,â he grumbles, watching your grin stretch as you dangle your own hand up in front of his face.
dark cruel eyes stare at your nails, observing how well manicured and painted they were. he sighs again, uttering out a raspy, âvery well,â and he sits manspread, reaching for a nearby tiny table that resides against his infamous throne. âyou may paint my nails. just this once.â
with a precious giggle, you grab about two bottles nail polish from your pocket, gently placing his hand down against the porcelain glass table. heâs keeping a sharp eye on you, rolling his eyes at how ecstatic you were on this. the way you treated his hands with such careâthat cute little smile never once departing from your sheeny lips,
the moment you twist off the black tight cap that sticks onto the bottle like glue, the strongly loud aroma of the polish hits against his flared nostrils.
itâs heavily strong, the familiar scent of acetone wafts against his domain entirely.
âstay still, âkuna.â you whisper, gathering a good amount of polish. for a moment, you swear you could have heard a low growl escape from him.
oh, you were testing his patience.
you were testing sukuna ryĆmenâs patience and he was letting you.
âgood, good.â you give him a closed-eye smile.
âdo not praise me,â he snarls, and heâs already embarrassed. his tone made an attempt to come across as more stern and assertive, but it was just so cute.
with daunting, glaring eyes, he watches silently at the way you softly brush the tip against his nail.
each individual nail took a few seconds eachâ oddly enough, it was wholly soothing for a while.
âhmph,â he bleats, feeling the softness of your hand skin against his hand every so often. you were so thorough, so precise.
delicately, you lay the brush flat against the bed of his nail. the bristles coat against the layer of his nail and you feel a brief coldness of air fan against your skin. it was rather amusing to watch you pay so close attention to him, to his hands. âhm,â he raises a brow for probably the nth time today. still scowling, his face softens a bitâ you had him all relaxed. âyouâre quite good at that, i must admit.â
âaw. thank you,â you cheese. with a grin, you give him a cute exuberant glance, pulling up his ring finger to paint the entire part of his nail with a freshly new coat. âhowâs it feel?â
sukuna groans, not liking how sentimental this moment was. the entire mood was so ⊠soft.
you made him feel softâ he always thought things like that just wasnât possible. especially with someone as such as him.
who would have thought that painting the almighty sukuna ryomenâs nailâs would have him falling for you ten times harder . . ?
âitâs ⊠good,â he utters in a gruff tone, and youâre just about done.
his eyes linger toward your hands for a long time, youâre still placed on his lap before you feel the curseâs lower arms grip against your waist tightly. you felt a feeling of abrupt security and it was quite nice. within his touch, you always felt secure. moments with him like this, youâd never be anywhere else. âhurry up though, my thighâs cramping.â
âoh shut up.â you roll your eyes with a snicker, bringing the brush towards his pinky now. he sticks it out for you, staying still as possible before you pauseâ dipping it back into the glass teensy bottle, swirling it, delving it around the inner crevices of the glass before finishing up his final finger.
the audacity,
the audacity of telling him to shut up, you must have been out of your mind.
but truth be told, sukuna has somewhat of a sweet spot for you. it made him kiss his teeth in sheer exasperation. he wasnât used to such tender forms of affection. part of him wonders just why youâre always so warm to him. treating him with such care, heâs the king of curses after all, and yet here he isâ acting like his long lost self, the king of love..
âalllll done,â you harmonize, he looks down to see the final results. with low hooded eyes, sukuna stares at his sharp nailsâ once black, now a light pinkish color. his mouth dangles opens and his face scrunches up, eyebrows curling together and itâs hilarious. for once, sukuna ryomen was speechless. âi know right? youâre gonna get so many compliments, âkuna.â
âyou did not just paint my nails pink, woman,â he huffs out a grunt, you lean up close to him with a coy, impish look. âthe nerve is beyond me..â
you giggle, flashing off your nails in his face, the two of you now having the same exact color. âoh, donât be a baby. see, now weâre matching,â and his face is still all scrunched up. god, you had him feeling a feeling he didnât even know he could feel. his stomachâs tight, churning ridiculously, his heartâs racing, and even his palms start to sweat. âwith your long nails, you pull it off so well, heh.â
sukuna kept asking himself the same question the more he avoids eye contact.
why must you be so so cute..?
not a single reply comes from his mouth, instead he just crosses his arms into a mere fold. âmhm,â is all he replies with, tilting his head before resuming his words with an obstinate grouse. âwhatever. but iâll have you know that pink is not my color.â
you titter. âoh? what is your color then, my lord?â
you were being a brat, he sends you daggers before regretting he even said thatâ you always had the higher up on him, every single time.
âtch. nevermind that,â sukuna scorns, and his pout was so adorable.
pink stretched lips compressing together, stubborn as usual.
he brings his hand towards his face before exhaling lowly. âwhat in theâ the nerve of you to put little sparkles on it too,â and he watches your smile beam at his live reaction. âi ⊠donât know what iâm gonna do with you.â
âyou can start by thanking me,â you tease, planting your lips against his cheek.
he tenses up, the softness of your lips giving him whiplash for a moment. every time you present him either something as simple as a kiss, he was never prepared for it. âfine. thank you,â and as his bulky lower arms snake around your waist, he meets your brightly dilated irises. âare ya finished? i need a nap.â
âso old,â you stroke his cheek, and that earns a glare from him. âitâs not even the afternoon yet,â and you gift him with another mwah, the contact that your sweet lips provides has him growing more and more flustered. âbut yes, iâm done âkuna. thank you.â
ââŠ..good,â he responds after a long seven second pause. sukunaâs scowling before he finally returns your eye contact. his face was slowly getting more flustered from each kiss you give him before he tsks. âah ah,â he creates a swift hand motion, âoff my lap now, youâve had your fun.â
you frown. âaw,â a sweet disappointed tone hiding underneath your voice. heâs then taken aback once he feels your humanly hands sneak their way into his hair. pink slightly curled up strands of his was a bit messy and tangled. the curse was still publicly pouting, studying your every move before you get an idea. âhm. one more thing though?â
he exhales. âwhat.â
âcan i do your hair? i found some bows andââ
âcount your days, girl.â
âstop flirting with me, âkuna.â
ââŠ.foolish woman,â and after a long dreadful pause, sukuna pouts yet again. so cute, his arms remain crossed before he speaks through annoyingly gritted teeth, an almost smile pokes through his lips that conceals his fangs. âfine. you may do my hairâŠ. or whatever.â
#â
vegasbaby.#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk drabbles#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagines
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