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tsukimefuku · 29 days

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blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem.

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento.

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

"This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself?

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death.

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through.

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways.

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words.

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely.

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?"

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure.

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be.

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!"

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression.

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up.

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was.

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly.

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.”

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart.

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots.

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami.

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words, “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss.

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice.

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution.

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost.

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss.

You could kiss him like this forever.

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you.

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be —, Nanami spoke again.

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved.

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it.

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.”

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

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roxy-writes · 1 year

Text

the comment i'm replying to: please consider a cool college au dabi who hates his dad but still spends his old mans money. he's a good boyfriend, very low key and yet he manages to garner plenty of female attention, mostly superficially but abundant none the less. reader has to deals with glances, whispers and jabs about shade regarding being partners with dabi. a non conventionally attractive reader (I'm chubby but this could be anything you want) once he finds out some intense body worship 🥺🥺

FIRST OF ALL OMG I LOVE THIS. i haven't written anything with chubby!reader in a while so i'm very excited. i hope you like this!

warnings: chubby!reader, ppl making negative comments about reader's body, body worship, facesitting, not proofread

you were always aware of the attention that dabi attracted. you know he's good looking, and so does everyone else. this could be...disheartening for you at times. attending the same college as him made you ever more conscious of just what kind of attention followed him. the kind that made you feel sort of sick to your stomach at the thought of how much prettier the people that attempted flirting with him were than you. you try not to let the whispers and scowls thrown your way get to you.

dabi also always made his attraction towards you clear. whether it be a hand set on your waist or lower back when you're out, or, in more private settings, eagerly groping at your chest and ass. this was sometimes inconvenient. it only seemed to make people stare at you harder whenever he'd attempt the slightest bit of PDA. he notices how your behavior seems to change when people see you in public, and he immediately assumes the worst. that you didn't like him, or want to be with him.

so he tries to fix it. using his father's credit card of course, he'd take you out shopping to buy whatever you like, take you out on fancy dates, whatever. when this doesn't work, he begins seeing the problem for what it really was. he finally started noticing how people behaved towards you, acting like you weren't even there, coming up and flirting with him like you were nothing.

he confronted you about it in his room one night. asking why you didn't tell him how you felt, begging you for answers. you don't know why, you say, you didn't know if he would understand.

"fuck, why the hell would you think that?"

"'cause y'know, there are all these people that make comments about me when we're seen together. it's never you they're talking about."

he closes the distance between you to wrap his arms around you.

"i'm sorry. i'll tell all of them to fuck off. you don't deserve anyone's shit," although vulgar, dabi's words are comforting, and you wrap your arms around him as well. you bury your face in his neck and he pulls you closer in response. but after a few seconds he pulls back and presses his lips to yours the same way he always did. gentle but rough at the same time.

you almost feel bad for being kinda horny during a sweet moment like this. not like you can help it. and based on the slight bulge you feel pressing against your thigh, neither can he. "heh, sorry babe. i think i've got a big problem," he whispers sultrily in your ear.

"i can help you fix it, if you want," you say, and he couldn't have been more eager. your clothes were pulled off of you as he lowers you onto his bed.

"pretty," he mumbled softly as his eyes rake over your body. and in that moment, you felt pretty. he makes you feel pretty. his hands settle on your shoulders, slip down your chest and stomach until they're right where you need him.

his thumb presses your clit and rubs the bundle of nerves, causing you to jump slightly. he looks so turned on right then, you can see it in his face. and he can see the arousal in your face when he pulls you up towards him as he lays on the bed. all he seems to want is for you to ride his face as hard as you can, and why not give the boy what he wants?

"just, tap my thigh if you can't breathe." you tell him.

he plants both his hands on either one of your thighs and shoves his face into your pussy. you squeak at the sudden stimulation and unconsciously grind on his face. he moans and his eyes flit up and down your body, gaze landing on your chest. he watches it bounce as you squirm, his nose swiping your clit messily. you can feel his hot, wispy breath on your skin.

he's pressing you harder into him, getting his tongue deeper in you, his hips bucking into nothing. you start to get a little wobbly from the pleasure, so his hands lock onto you and his fingers dig into the fat of your hips that you hated until you realized how much he loved it.

you cum with a cry as he buries his face into your aching pussy. he lets you hump his face to drain every last bit of pleasure from your orgasm. you wait till the aftershocks wear off before lifting off him. "want me to return the favor?" you ask, but he shakes his head no. you're still sensitive and twitchy from cumming, and he gently massages your thighs to relax you.

one hand wraps around his cock to line himself up with your hole, and the other slithers up to your face to tilt your chin so you look directly at his face. "jus' focus on my face baby," he whispers, trying to distract you from the pain of the stretch when his tip breaches your entrance.

he fucks you like the world is ending tomorrow. fucks you like you're the only girl in the universe. he can't even think about himself when he's got you moaning on his dick and you look so good. his cock rubs against your g-spot and you see stars.

you cum before he does, and you swear he's pulling an even more lewd face than you are. he's so close, so fucking close, and what finally pushes him over the edge is the cry of his name you let out once the pleasure gets to be too much. he cums so hard he whimpers a little bit.

you think it's so cute the way he can't help but curl into himself at how good the couple seconds of pleasure feel. you both wish the feeling didn't end so quickly. he slowly pulls out. you bask in the afterglow for a while, dabi's body cuddled up next to you. you feel so much better. you know he'd never cheat on you, know he'd never hurt you or your feelings, know he's good for you. all it really took was realizing you were the hottest girl ever in his eyes.

#dabi x reader smut #dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi x chubby reader #bnha x reader #bnha x chubby reader #bnha smut #mha smut #mha x reader #mha x chubby reader smut #mha x chubby reader #mha x reader smut

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st4rc4t · 3 months

Text

hasan piker x weed smoking reader hcs

disclaimer! i do not condone underage marijuana usage!! this is just something silly for ppl who do/have smoked weed before. if ur under 21 in the united states don’t do it !!!

cw: marijuana usage, friends to lovers sorta idk the situation is weird, autistic coded reader ? it kinda just happens, semi pining, gn!reader

wc: 1.1k+

a/n: just me and my 3 weed smoking gfs

most of his friends in the youtube/twitch scene also smoke weed so he doesn’t really care

he smokes occasionally but only at night to help wind down a little bit

he doesnt mind the smell but he really hates when his clothes and hair smell like it

so when he’s around you make sure you’re either outside or blowing it out of a window

you never smoke inside his house

he didn’t ask you not to, you just assumed he wouldn’t like it

he doesnt and it makes him blush a little at ur consideration

whenever you get high and he doesn’t, he never says “omg ur so high” while ur trying to talk

cus like . yeah obviously that was the point ! and its not like ur completely different while high, just a little floatier and it takes you a minute to get thru ur sentences

but you talk about pretty much the same stuff and he loves talking to you

and u laugh a lot he likes that too

dont tell anyone tho

you looove getting high with him its such a special treat

ull be gathering ur paraphernalia to take out on the patio and he wanders out of his stream room looking like the sad hamster

he sees you getting ready, getting a bottle of juice and such and asks if he can join u

gasp of course he can !!!!!

asking how fucked up he wants to get so you know the best method of smoke delivery

he wants to sleep Good tonight so indica in the bong it is !

he’s nervous ab the bong so u bring out a bowl too incase he gets cold feet

he watches you get comfy in your seat outside, a comfortable warmth from the california setting sun

arranging everything ready on the table

“you look like a tweaker”

“im gonna make you a tweaker if ur not careful”

he laughs but he keeps watching you carefully pick out a healthy portion from the large bud you have, pushing it into the prongs of your grinder and twisting the two pieces against each other

he watches you pour the contents of a reusable water bottle into the large glass piece, eyeing the level of water

he watches you stop and put it to your lips, taking a pretend hit and making sure the water level is good

he watches you carefully pack the ground up flower into both bowl pieces, using your fingers to pat it level and dusting the excess back into the grinder with each one

you notice him staring but dont say anything until you’re already done

you make him an offering, bong and bowl in each respective hand. eyebrows raised as if to say, “which are we feeling?” but when he continues staring at the contents of your hands, you actually speak.

“dude are you already high, whats going on?” you laugh cautiously, genuinely a little worried but keeping it light hearted. he seems to snap out of it at your voice.

his eyes dart around for a second as he reenters his surroundings, chuckling when your word’s finally register, “no, yeah- sorry… really long day today,” his words fizzle out as he goes along. you cant help but feel bad, you dont know how he deals with streaming sometimes. you also feel weird about giving him a mind altering substance while he already seems spaced out.

setting the pieces down safely on the table, you look at him seriously before speaking, “are you sure you wanna do this? you’re kinda out of it,” you’re hard trying not to sound condescending, but you doubt he can read your tone that well right now anyway.

he smiles the most minuscule amount and looks away, but you see it. “yeah, im sure,” he sighs out gently before continuing, “i need to empty my brain,” he finishes by looking back to you with already tired eyes. you nod in understanding, relishing in knowing exactly how to fix his problem.

picking up the little glass bowl and a lighter, you hand both to him. they instantly look tiny in his hand and you’re not sure how he’s gonna actually do this. after realising you gave him green hit, you remind him to take a small hit. he just rolls his eyes sarcastically and scoffs, like of course he would, but you both know he would’ve blown a lung.

you watch him fumble with the glass, trying to get a good grip that covers the carb and wont burn his hand when he lights it

he eventually gets it and takes a little corner hit

a bit bigger than he was expecting tho so he does that thing where u cough the smoke out

just awful btw

u give him some water hes fine but boy does he love to complain

u just laugh at him and take ur own hit

breathing in deep, holding it for a second, and letting it go watching it escape into the open air

when he sees other people smoke it usually feels more rushed and energetic, like they were trying to ingest as much thc in as little time as possible

but you take your time. gathering everything and getting comfortable, settling into the ritual of the action. you take your time and let yourself feel it, you take your time and make sure he’s fully prepared before offering him anything

oh no he likes you !

he does end up hitting the bong but like the smallest baby hit so it doesn’t even count

he is sooo silly when hes high loves to laugh

he will def devolve into political rants if you let him, but you’re pretty good at making him laugh and redirecting him when hes like this

bc he smoked an indica this time his eyes are even more droopy than they were before and you can tell he’s getting tired

you clean up and follow him back inside amd he goes completely baby mode at the sight of kaya sleeping on the couch

petting her and pressing his face into her fur, going on and on about how soft she is

you laugh and sit on the other end of the big sectional covered in pillows and blankets

when hes done melting into kaya he sits down next to u with his arm around the back of the couch

real smooth .

it works 1000%

watching smth stupid like family guy (genuinely my fave show while high i will not elaborate)

chilling until he decides to go to bed at like 8:30

he convinces u to sleep on the couch bc ur both too high to drive and he would freak out at the thought of u in an uber rn

okay i have to be done i basically wrote a oneshot in the middle bye bye

#hasabi posting #hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker #my writing

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gffa · 9 months

Note

saw someone say "dickbabs is bad cuz they're written as a stereotype of smart nerd/dumb jock which is a disservice to their characters" and its so weird cuz i cant think of any comics where they're written that way?? like the best comics of them are the ones where they're working on cases together combining both of their strengths and resources to solve crime and theres plenty of those.

also i've noticed so many dickbabs antis have a problem with barbara's intelligence in general which is odd to me. esp when dick himself is never intimidated nor threatoned by it and its sad. its like ppl claim to like girlboss/malewife couples but then when there's actually a couple that displays that dynamic in a way that matters and isnt just based on appearance or physical traits its too much and they back out!

I just wish certain Dickbabs antis would stop putting their "why this other pairing is so much better than DickBabs" stuff in the #dickbabs tag, like you are not helping me think better of your competing ship with that kind of behavior, it just comes off as so desperate to be mad that other people like something you wish they wouldn't like. Otherwise, I don't really wander into spaces that aren't into the things I'm into, because I'd much rather spend my time yelling about why I DO love the thing I love, so in that vein, LET ME TELL YOU WHY I LOVE DICKBABS SO MUCH. (To be clear, it's perfectly fine not to like the ship or like it in a different way, we'll still get along fine! It's not the sum total of EITHER character's role in the comics, there's plenty to talk about them without getting into this relationship! I'm just not here for those who need to go out of their way to shove it in my face that they don't like the ship, but disliking it and staying in your lane--as many, many lovely people do! the majority I would even say!--is of course fine.) (To further clarify, I don't know the context of the original post mentioned here, it's not part of anything I'm speaking of, this is purely about trying to shove it in others' faces, not about how other people interpret ships differently from me while staying in their own lanes. So I'm probably not speaking about the original post whatsoever here!) For me, I think the heart of their bigger relationship is built on their mutual support for each other, that they each have established themselves individually and have their own books and their own time in the spotlight, but they keep gravitating towards each other because they're better and stronger and more fun together. That each of them gladly takes their turn being the support for the other, because that's what relationships do! And they do it with such love, like-- I love them because they've known each other so long that they really get each other, they get that the other isn't perfect, and they've made the choice to be with that person even when their issues have thorns. Like, I loved everything about their conversation in Nightwing #96:

That is exactly what he needed to hear--she wasn't being cruel or dismissive of his issues, she wasn't even really being mean about the issues he picked up from Bruce, because she's right, Bruce does have some really shit traits that he passed on to his eldest. She's not saying that either he or Bruce are bad for it, she's just accepting that it's part of the man she loves and she'll cut through it with him because he's worth any effort it would take to be with him. I love that she laughs right in his face about breaking up, because that's not cruel or dismissive either, it's just Dick being ridiculous and sometimes it's part of his charm and they've always teased each other--the thing is, it's also always followed up with warmth and care, she asks him point blank, are you happy with me? Because you are allowed to be happy. I'm allowed to be happy and I'm happy with you, you're worth dying for, let's do this together. Or I love their earlier dynamic in the Batgirl comic as well, just after Bruce and Selina's failed marriage (this is before they got back together, like in the above):

I love SO MUCH that Babs isn't sure that she necessarily wants a marriage any time soon, she doesn't trust yet that it could last, but what she does want is someone who would be there if she needed them, that at this point in time she feels like moments are all any of them are allowed to have, so what she wants is someone who will always answer when she calls. At this point, she's afraid to commit because she doesn't feel like they get that kind of thing, she's afraid of her own feelings, that really gets hammered in during the Death Knight storyline where they're fighting against the end of the world, the collapsing of the multiverse, and Bruce is tired of their bickering, so he tells them to just "skip to the end", which is basically, Dick wants to symbolically marry her, but she's afraid because she doesn't want her feelings for him to get in her way, she's terrified of losing him again:

But he's there for her, he says that it's just for tonight, he can put it aside when they need to, and later he'll win her back. This is who Dick and Babs are to me--they dance around each other because their feelings are so intense and sometimes it feels like they're on different pages (Dick's a romantic who wants to get married someday and knows it, she isn't sure she wants marriage but something less defined), but then you dig into it a bit and realize they are on the same page, it's just that their costumed lives, the traumas they've both lived through, make them scared of that level of intensity. And that's why Babs being the one to say, once they're together, no, we're happy together, we're allowed to be happy together, is so important. It's why she refuses to not come along with when Dick is going to the founding of the Alfred Pennyworth Foundation and doesn't take his shit about trying to keep her safe in Nightwing #88.

Because they take turns supporting each other, they take turns being the one to say I love you so much that I would fight the world for you, that they make each other stronger and shore each other up. Even before they got back together, they supported each other and were always there to listen, to joke around to lighten the mood, to just be a friendly ear without expectations of anything else:

Plus, they are adorable when they're flirting:

DICK'S IDEA OF A HOT DATE IS A NIGHT ON THE SOFA IN SWEATPANTS, EATING POPCORN, AND WATCHING THEIR FAVORITE SHOW. HE UNDERSTANDS HER, OKAY.

Ultimately, I love them because sometimes she goes to him. Sometimes he goes to her. Sometimes she cuts through his bullshit with love. Sometimes he cuts through her bullshit with love. They're always there for each other, even when they're not together. They have a blast flirting with each other. They're both aware of the other being a hot mess sometimes, but they know that's part of the person they love and deal with it. They're partners.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #barbara gordon #dickbabs #long post #really long post

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seospicybin · 10 months

Note

Hi hello I hope you're doing great

I don't know if you take requests or not but I can't stop thinking about Reader worshiping Chan like my man thinks he's not that attractive and doesn't understand when ppl say he's one of the sexiest man. So Reader does that somewhat cliché thing of dragging him in front of a mirror for him to say what he doesn't like about himself and then the reader shows him every details they find extremely sexy all that followed by a sweet passionate love making session. My man needs to receive some love and deserve to be worshipped.

Anyway I'd write that myself but I have no talent whatsoever and you're my favourite author on this entire site I only trust you to put this idea into words if you accept it of course.

But I'll also totally understand if you say no as you probably have a lot to do already. Either way I wish you a great summer and I hope both sides of your pillow are always cold.

Much love,

🦝

Hi, hello for sending ideas to my inbox and apology for taking this long to replying to your request. And do not worry about cliche, I live for that and we need a little cliche in our lives.

The only problem is I'm not good with drabbles so I hope this fits what you have in mind and don't ever say you're not talented, say that again and I'll come to knock some sense into you! Have a great day and enjoy this fluffy, sexy drabble x

ADMIRE. (s,f)

Bangchan x reader. 2,7k words

It's not just the way he sits at the end of the bed with his shoulders sagged. The absence of smiles on his face and the sighs he constantly lets out are enough signs that Chan is having a bad day.

As a girlfriend, you take it as your duty to make sure that he's alright first, and from there, you can find a way to make him feel better.

It's always best to approach him in the way you usually do, with a bright smile and warm hug. Climbing onto the bed and sitting behind him on the bed.

"Hi, beautiful man," you greet him as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, planting your chin on his shoulder.

He looks over and flashes you a weak smile, "Hi," he greets back.

You press a kiss on his lips, then on his neck next, catching the smell of his natural scent that you like so much.

"Hmm..." you delightfully hum.

"I like how you smell when you come home at night," you shamelessly admit with your nose still planted in his neck.

That is enough to elicit a soft laugh out of him, "of my sweat?"

You take another whiff of his scent and hum again, "Of you."

"Huh?" He turns his head at you with a questioning look on his face.

"Of everything nice and comfortable and safe and..." You get shy the more you list the things his natural scent offers.

He smiles at you with a kiss pressed on your hand, "I like coming home to you," he says.

You glide your hands down his arms and then slip them under his arms, resting your hands on his stomach, feeling the toned muscles against the sleeveless top he's wearing.

"But you don't seem like it," you tell him.

He clasps his hands with yours in front of him, "Yeah?"

You nuzzle your nose in his neck again and hum, "You've been so quiet, baby. Is something bothering you?"

He shakes his head and draws a breath, "Nothing it's just... I don't feel good about myself lately."

You frown at his answer while turning your head his way, "But why?"

He shakes his head again and refuses to answer you.

The way he reluctantly tells you the details makes you sadder and that only means he's not comfortable enough to share it with you. You can't help but feel that maybe you took part in making him feel this way.

"Do I make you feel that way?" You meekly ask.

"No, no, no," he hastily replies, and knowing that it's not enough to convince you, he brings your hand close to his mouth, then kisses it.

"It's not you, baby," he says again.

The more he tries to convince you, the more you feel uneasy about yourself.

"Then please tell me who or what made you feel this way?" You plead, giving him the puppy eyes that you know he can't resist.

He smiles with eyes closed and lets out a long breath, "it's me. I don't feel confident about myself," he finally answers.

You look at him and pout, "Channie!"

"What?" He awkwardly laughs.

"How are you not confident?" Your eyes widened in disbelief.

If there's one word to describe Chan, that word would be perfect. He has everything that a girl like you could've asked for, a great personality, intelligence, a decent human being, and all of that wrapped in an attractive package.

Hearing him say that he doesn't feel confident about himself baffled you so much. It doesn't feel real at all that you get speechless and can only blink your eyes while trying to process his words.

"Are you joking me, babe?" You ask again just in case he was being playful.

His head drops and keeps looking down at his lap, "it's nothing really, I just—"

"How are you not confident about yourself?" You're aware of how rude you are for cutting him off midsentence.

"Because I'm not that good. I'm not... beautiful," he sounds so little when he said that and you hated it to hear it.

There's nothing wrong to feel so insecure about oneself but to say that he's not beautiful when he is the most beautiful in your eyes.

Your hands loosen around him and he thinks you're disappointed in him that he holds on to you not to let him go, "don't go, stay," he says.

You pat the space on the bed, gesture him to scoot there, "Come and sit here!"

Not sure what you're trying to do but he obeys without a word, scoots a little to the right.

You kneel behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, "Now, look ahead!" You order him.

Slowly, he glances up and surprises to see the reflection of himself in the mirror with you in front of him.

"You see that? That's you and me," you tell him, looking at him through the mirror.

"And all I see is a man who's smart, hardworking, passionate, thoughtful, kind, and warm," you're speaking with a soft smile on your face.

"He can be a little reckless, a little hot-headed, a whole lot indecisive but that's because you're a libra," you playfully remark.

Then you tilt his head until his eyes meet yours, "despite all of that, you are beautiful to me," you murmur and lower your lips on his, locked in a rapturous kiss with one hand wrapped around his neck.

"Thank you," he mutters his gratitude with a sweet smile.

"And I'm not done yet," you tell him with a sly grin.

You sit down on the bed, hugging him from behind with your legs on each side of him, your arms crisscrossing around him.

"Time to talk about this sexy exterior," you announce with your hand softly rubbing his chest.

"Oh, no, please, I'm not sexy," he denies and gets embarrassed when you haven't even started yet.

"Shh!" You hushed him by covering his mouth with your hand.

Seeing his dimpled smile only encourages you to keep going because he's cute and hot when he's shy, still have no idea how he makes that possible.

"Should we start with this body?"

You lower your hand to his abdomen and pull the hem of his top to reveal his abs, "My goodness!" You hiss close to his ear.

You slip your hand under his top and feel his toned muscles with your fingertips while lowly whimpering into his ear.

"I want to have a bite of this white chocolate," you tell him, knowing that it's cheesy enough to amuse him.

"Can I? Can I have a bite, Channie?" You seductively ask.

He can't answer as he keeps giggling but keeping your hand inside his clothes.

"Let's take this off, mmh?" You ask into his ear.

He nods and raises his hands to let you take it off him, tosses it aside after. His pale skin glows even under the dim light and you like seeing your hands touching it while you're looking through the mirror.

"How do you not feel good about this body, baby?" You lowly ask.

"Because—"

You turn his head and hastily capture him in a kiss, not giving him a chance to answer or deny your words. You keep kissing him, parting your mouth open to let his tongue invade your mouth.

Your hands are freely roaming around his body, touching, feeling, and teasing the sensitive parts of his body with fluttering touches.

When you let go of his kiss, you continue by making a long trail of kisses from his neck. He lowly moans feeling your soft lips on his warm skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his shoulder.

He turns his head and your eyes meet, you smile at him as you lean in for another kiss, and a hand slips in his soft curls. You playfully nibble on his lips and gently tug at them, "mmh... these lips..." you hum.

You brush your lips over him back and forth and give him a long peck after.

"So full, so plump, so... kissable," you say with a dreamy sigh.

You place kisses all over his face while muttering little compliments at him with every few kisses.

"You're so gorgeous."

"So stunning!"

"Hella sexy!"

"One delicious man," you playfully remark and sloppily kiss him, "with a pair of juicy lips!"

Chan giggles again with his dimples sunken deep in his cheeks and you hold him close to absorb his happiness, doubling it back to him as you giggle along with him.

He puts his hand on your hand slung across his shoulder and squeezes it, "Thank you, baby."

"I'm not finished yet," you grumble at him.

Now his turn to be baffled, "You have something else to say to me?"

You nod with a sly grin plastered on your face, "I haven't haven't talked about this beautiful, big nose yet."

He holds in his laughter and leers at you, "Oh?"

"It's so perfect," you compliment right into his ear in a sultry voice.

Chan seems to disagree with it and silently scoffed at it, "Perfect, huh?"

As a punishment for not trusting your words, you gently bite his nose, then hurriedly kiss it to soothe the pain.

"So perfect," you assure once more.

"Got me thinking what it would be like sitting on this pretty nose," you purr into his ear.

That sends him giggling again and plants his face in his hands, flustered by what you said, his ears reddening as the proof of it.

"Don't be shy, Channie baby," you tease.

You hold his body close as it's shaking with laughter and you feel good that he's slowly forgetting about the things that bothered his mind earlier.

"It's your fault for being so hot, can't help but think of lewd things with you," you shamelessly admit and playfully bite on his ear shell.

He puts his hands on your legs, rubbing them up and down your thighs as he kisses you again in a passionate kiss that escalates things further.

"If words aren't enough to convince you, baby," you say against his lips.

You keep his head turned your way with your hand holding his chin, with a deep gaze into his eyes, you say, "I can show you."

The long moan you let out as you lower yourself on him is echoing in the room. With your eyes closed, enhancing the other senses to be more receptive to the pleasure you're feeling as his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

"Oh... my... goodness," you lowly moan.

After a moment of adjusting yourself, you look down and open your eyes to see him looking at you, eyes wide and heavy with lust.

"Can't get enough of this big cock, baby," you tell him while rubbing his chest with both hands.

"You're so perfect inside me," you sigh again and feel his cock twitches inside you.

"Mmh, yeah, you are perfect," you tell him, leaning down to kiss his open mouth.

You take his hands and put them up, resting them on each side of his head, clasping your hands together as you kiss him again, taking your time with him.

"Keep them here," you tell him.

"Just lay back and let me take care of you, okay?" You trail his lower lip with your thumb before kissing it.

He nods when he finally registered your request and keeps his hands thrown around him.

You start by rolling your hips in circular motions, slowly as to feel his whole length inside you. You're doing it with your eyes fixated on his face, his jaws clenched and unclenched depending on the pleasure you brought on him.

"Feel that, baby? How your cock fill me whole?"

"Yeah..." he breathlessly answers then swallows air.

For this one night, you put your need aside and focus on how to make him feel good, you want to show him how much you like him, adore him, and admire him because he deserves to know.

You start pulsating your hips against him at a steady pace and moaning at how good it makes you feel, kissing him once in a while.

To give him more pleasure, you plant your feet against the mattress and drop your hands on his thighs as support, bouncing yourself up and down on his engorging cock, providing him more depth into you.

That seems to work to bring him close to his high, you change your pace and back to straddling him, "You're going to cum for me, right?"

He seems to be intoxicated in pleasure to be able to respond to you.

You grab his chin and ask him again, "You're going to cum for me, right, baby?"

He nods with his eyes clouded in lust and you keep going, keep moving to bring him closer to his high. With how good he feels inside you, it's not hard to get yourself close to your climax as well.

"That's right, baby," you coo.

"You're going to cum and fill me full with your love, yes?"

He grunts as you intensely clenched around him, "yes, yes," he hastily replies.

You pick up the pace and use all of your strength to keep moving, from his ragged breath and how his body is flushing red, you can tell he's on so close, on the brink of...

His hands gripping each side of your waist with his nails dug into the flesh, trying to slow you down when you know he wants you to keep going.

You slowly ride past his high while taking his hands and using them to touch you all over. He's grunting while you feel his hands all over you, using his hands to cup your breasts and kneading on them together with you.

His cock is twitching inside you and you stay still, taking all of him inside you.

A moment passed and you see him slowly gathering his senses. You decide to hover above him by propping a hand against the mattress and look at him, his half-shut eyes looking back at you.

You place a brief kiss on his lips then caress his cheek, "look at you..."

You land another quick kiss the continue speaking, "Letting me take care of you."

He pulls you into a hug with a long kiss on your temple, "oh, you made me feel so good," he murmurs.

You smile at him and land another soft caress on his face, "That's how much I adore you, baby."

He puts his arms around you and pulls you even closer.

"You're so beautiful to me," you whisper into his ear.

"Mmh..." he hums in response.

Not taking that as an answer, you look at him and stare into his eyes, "Want me to show you once again how much I meant my words?"

He laughs at your question and kisses you deeply, "I need time for that."

Chan puts all of your hair to the side and kisses you again, slowly, turning over on the bed to have you underneath him. You can see the glints in his eyes have returned as he gazes into you like your eyes hold the whole galaxy in them.

"I'm beautiful, I know," you confidently say.

He lets out a laugh and softly kisses you, "You are beautiful."

"And you are beautiful," you say back to him with your hands around his neck.

"And I love you," he says with a warm smile on his face that melts your insides in a second.

Not only that he's beautiful inside out, Chan always makes you feel beautiful even with the simplest gesture of tenderly caressing your cheek with his knuckle.

"And I love you too."

Because how can you not say those words back at him?

#spicy mail #stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #seospicy drabbles

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liquidstar · 6 months

Text

i think that on here we've kinda talked a lot about how the traditional "coming out" narrative presented in popculture is flawed in reality. because it always presents this idea that you have to tell everyone who you Really are, that youre Hiding parts of yourself, that you can never be You until you bare your Secrets to the world. and that actually this isnt because people feel entitled to your personal business but that its hurting YOU when they dont know your personal business so you should really just tell them. (but also dont be "too" proud because thats annoying :( act mostly cishet please but dont lie about it! hehe!) it will work out every time for sure :)

but ofc thats not how real life works. i mean, naturally i understand that there are OF COURSE people out there who want to be loud and proud about who they are, and that this is incredibly important to their identity which theyve suppressed for so long. but that "coming out" narrative is harmful because it ignores many of the reasons it had to be suppressed to begin with. its fucking dangerous! its dangerous to a lot of people for a lot of reasons. they can lose their support system, family, job, house, and their entire life. both in the sense that they'll be completely uprooted from it, and in the sense that they could be killed. so constantly presenting the notion of "coming out is good for you no matter what because its the Only way to be your Real Authentic Self and also you HAVE to do it eventually because thats how this narrative is just Meant to go. be a good little queer and please dont stray from this path."

and the problem is that plenty of young LGBT+ people completely internalize it too! ive had so many convos with young people worried about coming out to their conservative family because, well, theyre supposed to! and their minds are completely blown when i tell them that actually they dont have to do that. that theyre under no obligation to tell everyone their business and its okay to just keep being them w/o making an announcement about it. ESPECIALLY IF IT PUTS THEM IN DANGER!!!! and to be clear this issue doesnt stop at age 18 or at moving out or anything like that either, there continue to be many obstacles for many people that make coming out unsafe, or just a bad life decision to uproot everything Right Now. it's okay to just be in the closet and it isn't a moral failing like cishet media wants to convince us. we all agree, right?

good! but here's what my actual real point is:

when we talk about this, for some reason, we seem to only reaaaallly be talking about the gay side of it, right? like im sure lots of people imagined, like, teenage gay boy movies. maybe a couple lesbian and bi characters too perhaps. and that makes sense because thats like the most common narrative for this sort of trope, so ofc those are the first examples we imagine. and ofc theres the more complex addition of "passing" when it comes to trans versions of this story, the idea that you gotta look a certain way to be "valid" adds another layer.

so i think its time more people started to acknowledge this about trans people too, right? i think we can all agree with this on paper already; no trans person is obligated to come out or present a certain way if theyre not in a place where they currently are able to do so. physically, mentally, financially... or just because they dont wanna! whatever the circumstances are, there is no criteria they have to meet to be vindicated in this. it doesnt only apply to 14 year olds living with shitty parents who plan to move out soon and become "Really Trans" (as if they didnt count before conforming to The Narrative), the person could be 40 and never planning to be completely out, and its the same. they dont owe you this "showing the world who you Really are in order to [earn the right to] Be Yourself" crap. thats their choice only.

however, i also think that even if most ppl on here in lgbt circles on here agree with the general sentiment... sometimes it doesnt always get applied it practice. though the whole "truscum" thing kinda died down (thank god) i still think that rampant transmedicalism has left its scars on lots of people and the things they internalize, combined with similar cisheteronormative messages in popular media about how your narrative Should go and how you Should act and look to be respected, and its Morally Wrong not to fit that mold.

so when encountered with people who dont pass, who dont TRY to pass and instead actively choose to look like their agab due to the fact that they are literally in the closet irl (lest we forget people have whole entire complex lives outside of the net) this sort of short circuit happens in ppls heads, where that internalized idea of "but you're supposed to be THIS WAY! youre not doing it RIGHT!" pops back up and they end up labeling that person as fake or Not Trans Enough for this reason.

and i do also think part of this stems from people not having enough sympathy for those whose paths are different, because they were told not to. theres a Right way, and they did it the right way. and likely they struggled for it a lot, so isnt it unfair that people are doing it the Easy Way (as if its easy to be closeted to begin with) and claiming theyre like you? thats Wrong. they have to Earn it. you lgbts should all get mad at EACH OTHER actually! this will help your community be better [in the eyes of cishetero society that doesnt really want you to exist to begin with]

additionally the reason im emphasizing the internet side of this so much is because... well, in this day and age, thats the space lots of people go to to NOT be in the closet. to at least microdose on being "out" while in real life they very much arent. like i said before, being in the closet is rough and taxing, suppressing yourself hurts which is why so many people wanna be loud and out and proud! not everyone can though, so turning to a place with relative anonymity to get that is great, and i think its probably saved a lot of people. but also because of this, its pretty much the only way to get the scenario this is positing to begin with- where you know a stranger can know that youre trans even if youre otherwise closeted completely, just so they can tell you that youre Not. but how many people in the past do you think lived lives where they never let these feelings out at all? how many alive today do you think dont even express them online?

you know that sort trope (often stereotypes in media) of a trans person "crossdressing" only when alone, in order to get a short bit of relief or euphoria that they cant in their closed life? i think that today we have the internet to do that. i think its kind of the same thing. but its also very different, because its not as private. its still secret, because its anonymous, but its also something shared with plenty of strangers at the same time. they dont know you irl, so its safe, distant, and gives you that rush of being yourself, and being referred to correctly by others too. theres community, theres support, and theres friendship too, once you get to know those strangers. its not a "second life" or a "persona" is just a side of yourself you dont show elsewhere, an identity that needs to be let out one way or another.

who the fuck are we to deny others the right to this life-saving connection just because they arent out? because they dont pass or dress the Right way irl? because we decided they arent trying hard enough to "fit in"? because they dont plan to change their lives to fit the right narrative anytime soon?

should they not be allowed into the community then? that would be perfect wouldnt it? leave many who need support out to die, because they did it Wrong. fight within our community over who is doing it Right until we've broken it in half. the righteous ones [according to cishet standards] are surely going to be treated with respect once they get rid of the Bad ones, right?

yeah, i dont think so. thats horseshit. we're stronger together than we are apart, thats why infighting is so useful to those who dont want us to be strong to begin with. its important to help each other, boost each other up, even if some of us arent playing the "right" part irl. are we really just going to sit around and accept the cishet norms as rules to live by? fuck that. not everyones story will reflect it, and you have to accept them anyway if you want a strong community. it doesnt matter how much they might look/act like their agab irl, if theyre telling you otherwise take it at face value, respect them the way you would any other. again, many of us agree with this on paper, but i think we still have to put work into acting on that too.

the end <3

#under the cut its just a way longer version of what i just said but in regards to how closeted trans ppl are often treated online #i cut it bc it was long but im telling you what it is now if you wanna read it basically #but a lot of this is personal musings too. its not connected to any kinda disk horse or anything #just stuff ive been thinking abt mostly. how i wish there was more support for such things #bc even online i feel like most ppl overlook closeted ppl who are not kids. yknow?#as if thats the only acceptable time to be closeted bc you have an excuse. tho part of it might be remembering personal experiences too ofc #but well. like i say here everyones experiences are different and we gotta respect that basically #and i think. its ok if you dont look or act a certain way. i guess

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