Suck, And I Cannot Stress This Enough, My Cock To The Fucking Base

something so sinister about edmund corcoran being nicknamed 'bunny' and the song that goes run rabbit, run rabbit, run run run

still not done with that heat stroke photoshoot, here's Toji!

Edit : Someone has found it.

Link is in the comment section if anyone wants to read it 🤸

Hello people of Tumblr I need your help on finding a Gojo fanfic it's on ao3 where the OC or the reader is trained (more like traumatized ) by Toji and she has a adopted father named Micah ?? 🤡

Oh and she has something living inside her like an entity I think the fic ended with how it started with the line

" who are you "

CARNAL

werewolf husband x reader | 18+ | 3k

your husband is a painter who makes a meager, but comfortable living for you both creating portraits for nobles. his love of painting stems from his adoration of the night sky and the moon. he disappears one night and returns three days later—changed, distant, aggressive, and ravenous. not long after, you discover the reason for his behaviors and face the consequences of curiosity.

story warnings; dead dove do not eat, dubcon, explicit sexual content, explicit details of genitalia (werewolf), breeding, knotting, kinda cockwarming??, mentions of feeling "bloated", cumshot on body, brief piss kink mention, size difference, brief handjob, mc gets head a few times lmao, classism, mc is kinda a shitty spouse in this, detail + prose heavy (extreme), roughly proofread — you are warned.

so, this all started when I was talking to @/peachdues about her fic and idk, knotting has just been in my head since. awesome. now it's out of my system, I hope 😭

this is also my first official new piece of writing on this blog! everything before this has been reposts of older work. hopefully it doesn't disappoint!!!

would love, love, love to hear your feedback! reblogs are so tremendously appreciated!!.🙏🏻❤️

note: this is not my personal canon interpretation of werewolves. this is just a werewolf fic, y'know?

He was the wretched thing you kept behind locked doors with the rising of each full moon.

Once, the pale moonlight had been a thing of beauty to you both; an exquisite, lustrous pearl which seemed so small pinched between your fingers, squeezed and blurred through narrowed eyes. He, on the other hand, admired it differently from you by staring adoringly at its craggy features and the wan, white halo it emitted.

By trade, he was a painter and made a meager living for you both from it. His portraits were most popular as nobles found his style palatable, brushwork concealing of all flaws that showed in their faded clothes, their tarnished jewelry, their ravaged flesh and inbred faces. He knew what they'd wanted in a painting and created these fabrications as they wished because it meant more than old bread and leathery meats for dinner.

For you, he endured such mundanity if it meant you could eat well and dress warmly and in an enviable way to the neighbors. He enjoyed your simple delight; how little it truly took to keep you happy, how easy your marriage had been up until that point. You loved him and you loved the things he provided for you.

When it came nighttime, far into the blackest hours where the world seemed seized in so forceful a hush, you made no objections when he pulled you from bed to go outside with him to view the sky. There, he painted by the orange embers of lantern light and tried to capture all the likeness of the night sky with its misty moonlight and glittering, starry veil.

Sometimes you held the lantern for him, sometimes you did nothing but sit on his side holding the paint palette and lean into his hip, leaching away warmth from his body. Most nights, you were a handsome fixture and most beloved companion, trying to squash the moon like a grape with your fingers while speaking every thought out loud.

But, one night he went out alone and did not return for three days. He had left with his easel and stretched canvas and precious paint board, yet had come back to stand in the doorway with none of it.

“Darling,” you hesitated, starting out firm in case he was inebriated, altered aggressively in some way. You looked at him as though he were some strange person. “Where are your things? Your paints? Your canvas? My love, where have you been?”

“I—I don't have much of an answer to that. I'm sorry.” Then, he strode past you to the bedroom, shuttered the windows to muffle light and sound, declaring he needed rest. “Please, let me be. I'll look for my things another time.”

Later, he was ravenous at the dinner table and ate more than you thought it’d ever be possible for one man to do. You sacrificed your own portion in hopes he'd be sated, but he only turned irritable and mute, as if he were aware nothing good would come of his words to you. At the time, you'd feared that you had upset him in some way, perhaps no longer thought you lovely and fashionable or dependable as his partner and wanted to do away with your marriage.

That would mean you could only return home to rural hardship, or to the slums in the neighboring kingdom. The world would know your unwanted status, how much of a disappointment you'd been to satisfy your own husband, and you would never know another moment of quiet luxury again.

You couldn't accept such a fate, so you bathed him carefully that night. Purposeful with how you dragged the soapy sponge down along his back, fingernails a featherlight graze between the valleys of muscle and flesh protecting his spine. You kissed the back of his shoulders, lips a smouldering touch against his neck.

Then, you felt from stomach down to his hips, swirling your fingertips against the bony protrusions and in the fragrant water before wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him to hardness. He still said nothing as he kissed your lips, tongue relentlessly pursuing your teeth to get inside your mouth, and pulled you into the tub with him fully clothed.

He fucked you deep and hard that night bent over the edge of the tub, hips pistoning up against your ass, skin slapping raw, thrusting into your wet walls at an angle that had you writhing with a face warped in equal parts exquisite bliss and agony. It wasn't until one of his hands gripped you around the neck, levering you against him, that you noticed a wound on his forearm right below where purple and green veins pulsed under his skin, translucent.

They were tooth marks—two rows of them. Crooked and sharp, arranged in a way that reminded you of the jagged spears wetted by sea spray at the base of a cliff. They looked deep, like whatever had bit him held on, yet hadn’t the intention to tear his arm off of the rest of him. The punctures were purple-red and abyssal as you studied them, vision jarred by his cock ramming you, his panting in the crook of your neck, and the bruise surrounding it bloomed a concentration of colors resembling an inkspill.

How had you not noticed it before?

“I fear what may come on certain nights from now on. When I ask it, lock the bedroom and shutter the windows from the outside. Don't ask me questions for I have no answers to give you.” He did not offer you the reassurance you had wanted, but it was enough to help you confidently stride through the days, knowing that your marriage wasn't in crisis.

Afterwards, it became imperative for you to act as someone educated because you needed to understand what was happening to your husband some nights.

It started days before a full moon: he became impatient, easy to displease, indignant upon any perceived blunder you made. He did not gorge on wine, but whatever meats were preserved in storage and what you could afford now with his inconsistent employment. You tried hiding these poor portions in thick stews with vegetables that had been infused in simmering beef stock for hours, but he was never fully sated by it.

At the same time he started to demand distance from you, he ravaged you at strange hours in your shared bed, tearing at your clothes to suck on your nipples, lap the glisten between your legs. New was his biting to leave marks and sup the blood mixed with his own saliva. More than once, he came on your body with hot, thick ropes and squirted piss on you like an animal marking territory.

When the night of the full moon arrived, he was transformed and horrifying. You had heard furniture crashing and shattering in the bedroom where he'd barricaded himself. Even his yowls throughout the evening had changed, no longer sounding like agony in the cries of the man you'd married, but something far more beastal. It came from within the chest, in the lungs behind the ribs, and was not human.

You had made the mistake only once to check in on him during this point in his shift, as you hadn't known any better. Your voice was a panicked flutter, a whisper of fear that something else might have broken through the fortress of wooden boards nailed against the windows from either side of it.

“My love? Darling, are you alright?”

He was there. You thought he was there because of the silhouette clambering across the broken remains of your shared dresser and vanity. The difference was that this thing was enormous. A creature with a bristling back, hair or spines standing out like a porcupine threatening with its quills.

It stood and was forced to hunch from the low ceiling of your house. A canine-like countenance glowered at you, red eyes partially obscured by patchy fur. Raw skin shined in the barren spots in the lantern light you'd forced into the room, and that hair didn't fully cover his abdomen nor his groin.

He was as much still human as he was this ugly beast. You'd thought to take another step into the room when he snarled and lunged towards the door. A shrill shriek pulled from your throat as you fully withdrew from the room, bolting the door shut with an iron key. He never made a ruckus against the door, and you left for the neighbor's right after, claiming that your husband had wanted space after an argument.

The next morning, your husband had somehow managed to escape the bedroom and sat in the kitchen clothed from the waist down, disoriented by the sunlight and his placement at the table. He didn't remember his transformation into the beast, but he did remember you.

Perhaps that's what gave you the courage to try to enter the bedroom the night of yet another shift. His yells of anger and pain had cooled after several hours, quieting to beastal groans and his heavy footfalls endlessly pacing the floorboards inside.

The door squealed, a call out to the darkness and creature within, and that creature responded with a growl—low, reverberating in darkness, a warning that you wouldn't be tolerated. You invaded the space carefully, meat and fish and other morsels for offering in a basket you'd woven yourself, that he had told you he thought was particularly artful at completion.

“Darling, I've brought you something. It's food. I've put fresh milk inside, too.” You caught sight of him near the boarded window, massive back rounded as he crouched low into a posture which looked as unnatural as when he tried to stand on his bent legs. “I know it—I know it won't ease your suffering, but you must still eat.”

He approached you, but it was unlike times before where he'd jump at the door to scare you away. This time he crawled towards you instead of intimidating you with his height—he wanted you to stay, and tried to appear small by dragging his long tail across the floor. The fur sounded like coarse bristles on a broomstick.

“Oh, my love. My love. My love. What has happened to you?” You moved away from the coverage of the door into the dark space, using your body to close it behind you so that he couldn't get out. You couldn't be sure how he'd behave if he could leave the house. “I'm here. Oh, you're so sweet. Look at you.”

You'd placed the basket aside neatly, making your movements obvious so as not to inspire ire, and didn't react when his long snout pressed into your abdomen. Stubble and whiskers pulled back to reveal long, stalagmite teeth which chewed mindlessly at your clothes. His damp nose nudged under your layers, pressing flush to your skin, startling you with a nasally gasp.

It was the instance where his nose left your stomach and went lower, pushing between your legs to lick you through your pants that you tried to cower, sidle out of his reach. He must've retained some semblance of himself because his arms rose to flank you at the waist, claws digging to the grain of the door, his strong snout pinning you, tongue knowing your shape even through cloth.

The fabric between your legs was wet, sticking flush to you, giving him as much nearness he could achieve without stripping off the layers separating him from your taste. The luscious imprint of you was unfulfilling, not even a teasing drop of what he instinctively knew he could have.

Your pants were removed unkindly; ripped at the waist, torn through impeccable artistry and threads and delicate fabric he had once paid for. Neither complete fear nor anger kept you silent, motionless for him to do as he pleased by yanking the pants off of your legs, but swelling curiosity. You wondered how much of your husband still remained inside this beast when the full moon was high.

The same unkindness followed him shredding through your underwear with his strange teeth, gnawing the fabric to a thin, sopping string before he could finally have you. Inhale you. Taste you with the paddle flatness of his tongue and make you squirm when his teeth skimmed that part.

“O-oh—” this wasn't like when he did it with his human tongue, as masterful as it was. He licked you with fervor you'd never felt, like he was reaching for something deep inside your viscera and blood and gore. Every subtle change of his immense nose and tongue was white heat behind your eyes, jostling pulses of electric, immodest moans, your hips driving forward on their own accord to help him find the treasure he sought within you.

Then, he stopped and hauled you to the floor with a single arm twice the thickness of that of his human counterpart. He knew no gentleness even now, dropping you onto your knees and palms against splintery floorboards which vented cool air up through the gaps, into your skin from the draft rising from underneath the house.

That cold reached deeper, seemed to lift off the ground to meet you as your husband—the beast—thrust your chest against the stiff boards and spread your legs apart with his mass. His claws sank around your hips without piercing your flesh, though their sharpness was undiminished to you regardless.

You knew agitation would not serve you here, neither would bursts of courage to escape. He would catch you with those talons, eat your insides with them and fuck you all the same.

He mounted you clumsily, then.

Enormous, coarse-haired hips grinding against your bare ass, prickling you, making you wince from where your face was nearly pressed into the wood below. You shivered at the first pass of his cock between your legs. Stiff and girthy, arched so well that you felt the moist tip drag across you, catching on spots he'd licked to flinching sensitivity, eagerly prodding at you.

The beast made a sound; a suffering groan with the tremble of his hips before he was thrusting inside of you. The sheer viciousness of his hips hammering against the globes of your ass and his heaviness forced you flat to the floor, where you reached out from the sides of your body for something to hold and grip for comfort. It was barren everywhere you touched.

Your walls were still tight around his cock even as the moments passed, growing no closer to accommodating his size than before, strokes animalistic and messy. While his fur muffled the friction of your skin, the airless dark of your bedroom was compacted with lewd squelching and moans you'd never known you were capable of making. Your noises were high-pitched and vile, paced with his hips, the curve of his cock stroking your velvety insides, and the wet suction releasing when he'd partially withdraw.

Above you, he panted with his long tongue lolling, dripping strings of saliva onto your back where they cooled upon contact and made you feel filthy. Your body ached from his weight pinning you to the inflexible floorboards, cold numbing your skin, hardening your nipples, grinding them down with each of his thrusts.

The enclosed space held an unusual smell, one apart from what you knew was sex. How sweat and salt and cum clung to the mustiness of old places. This was more pungent; earthier and heavier as it filled the room and leaked out of your hole, oozing down your thighs like nectar from a weeping peach.

You continued to let the beast—your husband—fuck you into the wood, the grain, to become an impression in the floor as nothing else could be done. But you were sore now and sure to be swollen, as you were an uncomfortable fit for him again; virgin tightness which gripped every vein and ridge in his cock.

The grinning beast bared even more of his teeth, clicking them together as he released a shuddering sound, too distant to be human but not entirely monstrous. He rutted you carnally, pushing your legs as far apart as they could go from where you were on your stomach, and went deeper inside of you still.

Something about the depth was so wrong—not meant to be, not meant to be experienced by a creature so simple as yourself. It was divine pleasure and pain, it was a threshold that shouldn't have been crossed, yet he had persevered and fucked you into screams.

His hips stuttered violently and he growled; he snarled; he whimpered like an actual beast mortally wounded. You gasped in awe at an enormity of sensations: his cum gushing inside of you, spurting out in thick ribbons to join the rest that had dried on your thighs, and his knot stretching your walls, locking his hips against your ass.

You fidgeted from the bulbous growth, clenching around it, whining wanly while he insistently humped you to burrow the knot as far as it could go. He was trying to breed you; plug his spend inside of you just as he would have had another creature of his sort. Because you were his spouse, perhaps he was only able to perceive you as his mate.

His movements soon slowed, calmed in a way of someone who'd been taken by blows of exhaustion and draped his large body across your back, prodding you with his spinose furs. There was some tenderness in how he kept his arms outside of you, bracing his weight onto them so as to not smother you. He did it to adjust his knot and half-hard cock inside you as well, unforgiving to the idea that you might have forgotten his fullness, that you were brimmed with his cum and felt bloated from it.

Nothing would come from this, only the shame of knowing you'd moaned and screamed for this beast, but not the human you'd married.

Never disappoints.

Top tier DC fanfics right here people 🤌✨

The Cop and the Bat - Bruce Wayne/Battinson x Fem!Reader (includes smut)

Synopsis : Two years ago, you were “saved” by the vigilante they know called “The Batman” from joining up with a gang. At the time, you saw this as the only escape from the tough life you lived down in Gotham’s slums. But he beat up those who wanted to recruit you and a bunch of other lost kids, and changed your perception of life. You started to train to become a cop, wanting to help better the city. Wanting to tackle the corruption right at its core. Ah, to be a youngster full of dreams

TW : mention of cheating, and there’s a NSFW scene. 18+, minors do not interact. Some The Batman spoilers. Strong language. Violence. 

For real, if you are underaged, or uncomfortable with this kind of content this story isn’t for you . I have many SFW work available for you to read over on my masterlists blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives. Please. This is smut with feelings and an actual story, but still it iz wat it iz. Be aware of that (I will also mark it once it’s coming in the story, to be fully safe). 

__________________________________________________

“Crimes are always the highest in poor neighborhoods”, said an article you once read, when you were in high school, in your “current event” class. It made you chuckle, as you looked around you and saw a decrepit “school” full of teachers afraid of their students, and students terrified of their teachers. 

You know what was even scarier ? The fact that so many of you just decided that : “that’s just how it is”, and settled to have a life of misery, fighting every day for survival down in Gotham’s slums.

No change had happened in such a long time, every single person living under the line of poverty just decided to live with the fact it was never going to change. And that’s an awful thing to think about. At the same time, if you expect nothing from life, you can only be pleasantly surprised, right ? 

Yeah. No. Because even when you expect nothing, a place like Gotham City always had “surprises” that you definitely could do without. Like the local mafia taking hold of the neighborhood’s electricity, and you had to pay them to keep the heater on. And in Gotham in winters ? Saying it was cold was an euphemism. It was either finding the money, or freezing to death in your room. 

Finding money. 

Was this life ? A perpetual fight to keep your head above the water, to be able to eat at least a meal a day ? What a nightmare. 

Naturally, as you grew up, you slowly drifted more and more towards a world you never thought would be yours. A world in which there was “easy money”. 

Crime. 

Keep reading

Teddy Bear

Kento Nanami x F!Reader

Where your relationship with Nanami took a sharp turn due to one incident.

WARNINGS: arguing, injuries, a bit of spoiler in gojo's past arc, at the end nanami said 'gaslight, gatekeep' but he didnt allow u to girlboss

i like this request lmao. i have no clue if this is good cause i really just typed whatever was in my mind at the moment but here ya go!

MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee?

Want to join my taglist?

It goes without saying that every human lives with many regrets weighing down their hearts, some are light and simple things such as regretting not to wear a certain color of clothing today, while some are as heavy as regretting certain actions that changed their lives for the worst. You weren't an exception to this; many past decisions you have are still weighing you down even though you still stand tall when facing challenges in life. But of course, many doesn't mean all, and you have just as many decisions that you are proud of just as much as those you've come to regret.

One of the things that fall into the former is your decision to have a relationship with Nanami Kento.

Kento was the best thing that ever came into your life, and you knew you would have regretted it had you given up the first time he rejected you—he didn't reject you because he doesn't feel the same, he does, but he still rejected you because of your occupations as Jujutsu Sorcerers. Much to Kento's annoyance, however, you were one persistent little pest that wouldn't stop bothering him, but it all worked out in the end as he finally caved in and the past few years had been the best years of both of your lives.

A perfect relationship is something that does not exist, and as much of a husband and boyfriend material your Kento is, he still has his faults and so do you. Every relationship goes through bumps, and yours and Kento were no exception. You had your fair share of arguments—playful and serious ones—but you both always managed to go through them with your love for each other unscathed and still stronger than ever.

Tonight is an example of that.

As Jujutsu Sorcerers, it was no surprise that the two of you live very busy lives, contacting each other during missions is not a good thing either as one wrong move could cause either of you your lives but still, amidst your busy lives, you both still made time for each other every now and again. You both made it a point that if possible, the last thing you'll both see before you go to bed and the first thing you both see every morning would be each other.

It seems that may have slipped Kento's mind.

You were okay with it for the first week, going a week without seeing each other wasn't unusual for you. The second week, you started to feel sad at the empty space next to you before you go to bed, hoping to feel his warmth in the morning only to be greeted by the cold room when you open your eyes. By the time the third week rolled around, you started raising your brow at the short responses Kento sends you whenever you ask him what's up, as well as the scarcity of affection you have been receiving from him. Before you knew it, a whole month went by with you barely even getting a glance at your boyfriend.

You knew you should just go to bed, that you were too emotional to think right now and Kento would probably be too tired to hold a proper serious and possibly emotional conversation about him being too distant lately, but you were too annoyed to even listen to reason right now.

And that's what brought the two of you here right now, in the living room, arguing in the middle of the night.

"You knew what we were getting ourselves into," Your boyfriend reminded you, "I can't just drop everything to run into your arms."

"You're talking as if I want to hog every minute of your every day!" you bit back, "Five minutes of your day, Hell- not even five minutes! Even just a peck before you leave me, that is all I ask!"

"I've been trying, everything has just been so busy that I don't have time for anything else besides the mission."

"I'm your girlfriend, Kento!"

"Maybe this is why I didn't want you to be!"

In all your years of being together, even though this wasn't the first time you had an argument, Kento had never yelled at you, which made you question yourself now as you didn't know which hurts more; his words or the loud voice and the tone he used when he said it?

Your silence snapped him out of whatever rage-filled stupor he has been in. He had just been so tired and stressed lately that he's not acting like his normal, calm self as of the moment—but that's irrelevant, there's no excusing the words he already said. He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose in hopes of stopping his already raging headache from getting any worse before opening them again. His exhaustion was evident in his mahogany eyes as he approaches you, his hands reaching out to hold yours in his.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash my stress out on you." His voice was low as he genuinely apologized,

"I know. It's okay, I didn't take it to heart." You lied, which your boyfriend immediately saw through from the way he scrunches his brow in worry and his lips turn down into a frown.

He lets out an exasperated sigh as one of his hands left yours in favor of placing them on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the apples of your cheeks as he looks down at you with as much affection as he could muster.

"We're both too emotional right now, and it's already late. You should go to bed." For the first time that month, you finally feel the familiar warmth of his lips as he presses a kiss against your forehead, "We'll pick this conversation up tomorrow. I'll take the couch."

A part of you wanted to tell him to still sleep in the same bed as you, but you knew you both needed some time to yourselves to think first and so, you didn't fight him on it. You nod at him in acknowledgment before separating yourself from him, making your way back to your room but not before stopping to tell him one last thing.

"I made dinner, it's in the fridge. Should I reheat it for you?"

"No, I can manage. Thank you."

You nod again and stay in place for a few seconds, the two of you just staring at each other. You were waiting for him to say something, but you weren't quite sure what. When you saw that he was starting to get concerned by you just standing there, you speak up once again,

"Good night."

"Good night," he responds, but you still feel like there's something missing from his response.

You eventually decided to just shrug it off before dragging yourself back to your room, allowing yourself to wallow in your own emotions and prepare yourself for the confrontation the next morning—if he's even around when the morning comes.

-

When Nanami opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that his head was throbbing in pain, and the uncomfortable, numb pain located at his lower back and around his shoulders from sleeping on the couch. The next thing he noticed is the pain medication and the glass of water situated on the coffee table where the bottle of liquor that he drank last night should be. He squints his eyes and takes the medication along with the glass of water that you so kindly provided to him before picking up the note you left behind.

He can't help the frown making its way on his face at the content of the note written in your handwriting; You apparently received a call very early in the morning that you were urgently needed somewhere, and that the talk you both needed to have will need to wait until you get home. He sighs worriedly, you were up until late last night, did you even get any sleep before they decided to call you?

As he places the note back where he picked it up from, he made a mental note to try and talk to someone about calling you when it's not within work hours and when you were trying to get some rest. Feeling the headache dissipate slowly but surely, the blonde reaches out for his phone to check the time. He still has time before work starts, as he didn't need to come in early today—maybe today he can wait for you to wake up and-

Oh. Right.

The frown he already had deepened as he realized, he usually gets to bed so late (much to his annoyance) that you were already asleep and wakes up so early that you were still asleep so he still had the luxury of having you by his side before he sleeps and when he awakes. If this is how you felt the past month, then he needs to do some serious apology and truly make it up to you.

Finding no reason to stay since you weren't around anyway, he eventually got up from the couch to get ready for the day.

Nanami's day was fairly boring but productive since he already finished his month-long mission yesterday, he's only left with paperwork now—paperwork that he could finish easily but he ended up typing slower than usual because he has yet to receive a message from you saying you already finished your mission and you're already on your way back.

-

Your boyfriend quietly chuckles at your impeccable timing, seeing your name flashing from his phone along with the selfie of you flashing a peace sign next to his sleeping form—a photo you have taken when you both went on a mission before you got together, Nanami was so tired that he had fallen asleep on the drive back and you stole his phone, took pictures and set this one as his phone's wallpaper. It was the same picture that made him realize just how attracted he was to you so he set it as your contact photo, something to remind him constantly of just how much he adores you.

With a poorly hidden smile on his face, he picks up the phone, about to ask why you called instead of texting when a male voice came through instead of yours.

"Nanami-san?" It was Ijichi, and he sounded nervous, even borderline scared which confused the blonde, "I'm at the school right now, Shoko-san is on her way and-"

"Ijichi.. Why do you have my girlfriend's phone?" Nanami's voice was stern and commanding, but he can feel himself faltering and his heart wanting to beat right out of his chest.

Nanami's hearing had started to fail then, and he could only catch glimpse of Ijichi's words, his brain running too fast that he wasn't able to comprehend the words being said to him.

Something happened. His beloved is injured. Ijichi applied first aid. Shoko is on her way. His girlfriend is not responsive.

His girlfriend is not responsive.

Never in Kento Nanami's life had he ever hung up so fast, leaving his spot and running out to drive to Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School as fast as he possibly could. His knuckles are turning white from how tightly he's gripping the wheel and he couldn't hear himself think, the sound of traffic sounded muffled and distant from him and the only thing he could hear is the rapid sound of his heartbeat and a persistent ringing sounding in his ears.

And when he finally got to where you currently were, fighting for your life and waiting for a reverse cursed user to show up, he immediately felt his knees buckle at the sight of you.

The unmistakable smell of iron hit Nanami in full force, the familiar crimson caking the side of your face and overpowering the color of your clothing. One look at you was all it takes and all of a sudden he was blown back to a decade ago, he's stronger now, he's Grade 1 sorcerer for Pete's sake! But he still feels as helpless now as he had before, reduced to nothing as he looks at his best friend laying, unresponsive from not so far from him.

Before he would approach your body, wanting to check for himself if you still had a pulse, he felt someone pull him aside and out of the room. He was so out of it and his gaze is so blurry that he couldn't recognize who it was, nor can he understand what they were trying to say, but the unmistakable smell of cigarettes makes him guess that Shoko has already arrived to help you.

He sat down on the floor next to the door, his head leaned back against the wall and his eyes squeezed shut. Ijichi looks at him with a frown, Nanami hadn't even realized that he spoke his questions out loud, and the next thing he knew, Ijichi was already answering his question.

"A first-grade sorcerer was urgently needed, she was the only one to take the call..."

This is why he left this job in the first place.

"...There was a civilian that was left there, and she wanted to protect them but didn't have time for any other choice..."

This is why he didn't want to fall in love.

"...She took the hit to save them."

This is why Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit.

"Gojo-san took the mission..." Ijichi speaks unsurely, standing quite a few feet away from Nanami.

The blonde couldn't help but chuckle at this, eyes still squeezed shut, arms placed on top of his knees as he clenches his fist tightly, letting the words he said all those years ago slip out from his mouth once again.

"Why not just let him take care of everything by himself from now on?"

The sight of Haibara's corpse flashes through his mind.

This will just keep on happening again and again, even if you come out of this fine, it will just happen all over again. He needed to put a stop to it, he needed to find a way to make sure that he will never lose anyone important to him ever again—that he'll never lose you, the only girl he will ever love.

Something snapped inside Nanami then.

-

The moment you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was your boyfriend by your side, and since then he rarely left. He insisted on having you rest for now and even did your paperwork for you, his beady brown eyes watching closely as you move your hands to sign the documents he typed out for you to be given to the higher-ups.

He was being his usual sweet self, albeit a bit protective and a bit more worried about you than usual. You both did eventually have that talk you've been meaning to have and he apologized for neglecting you, promising he'll do better next time and you knew he meant it. The first step he took upon the long list of things he planned to show you that he really was sorry was the month-long leave he got the both of you—maybe you really should have looked over the papers Nanami gave you first before signing them.

During the said break, you've been receiving messages of surprise from your co-workers, some even bidding your farewell which you quite found weird. It was only a month's leave, what got their panties up in a twist?

Gojo suddenly appeared in your shared home in hysterics, which, in all honesty, isn't all that weird for your friend and co-worker.

"Do you not love me anymore?!" Was the first thing he asked of you, throwing his arms around your neck as if he was your lover trying to stop you from walking out the door, "Why are you pulling a Nanamin? Why are you leaving me?!"

Of course, was the first thing you thought. Of course, Gojo Satoru would throw a tantrum over a month's leave.

You didn't have to turn around to know that Nanami is already rolling his eyes at his senior's antics and you can only sigh, rubbing your temple to stop the headache that's already starting to creep through the back of your head. The said blonde suddenly approaches you, removing the other's arms around you, and you didn't see it, but he was glaring at the sorcerer way harsher than usual.

Almost as if he was trying to kill Gojo with just a stare.

"That's enough, Gojo. She needs rest." Nanami told him with a hard tone, almost as if he was commanding the white-haired sorcerer while guiding him out the door.

"But Na-"

Nanami slammed the door right to the other man's face.

You only shrugged it off right then, not thinking much of it and just happy that you get to spend a whole month with just your boyfriend after missing him for so long. You didn't have the time for anything else that whole month too as every time you tried to leave, Kento would wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him, stating that "I just really missed you" and "I wanted to make it up to you for neglecting you.", every time someone showed up in your shared home, he kept telling you to drive them away and every time someone calls your phone, he was quick to snatch it up and distract you with cuddles and kisses.

Your ignorance only came back to bite you when you tried to go to work after that month and after Nanami left for a quick mission. You were hoping to get another mission as you felt like you were getting rusty after a month of not killing curses, but were surprised at the sight of your other co-workers looking at you weirdly.

"Hey, are you here to visit? Or do you miss being a sorcerer already?" One of your close acquaintances teases you, which only made you even more confused.

"What?"

"What? You already resigned, didn't you?" They ask, confused by your confusion. "You even sent Nanami to give your resignation letter along with the last of your paperwork for your last mission. The higher-ups weren't pleased, but it's not like they can force you to stay."

Needless to say, another fight broke out that night the moment your beloved boyfriend got home.

"I'm protecting you," He told you,

"You're not protecting me, Kento, you're trying to control my life!" You bit back, "Who gave you the right to write out my resignation letter for me and make me believe it was paperwork so I would sign it!"

"See? You didn't even notice something as simple as that," He pointed out, "You're too dumb, too soft to even survive out there."

"What the.. What are you talking about?"

"I'm trying to- no, I am protecting you." Kento approaches you, his hands reaching out to hold yours. His gentle grip immediately tightened enough to the point that it was starting to hurt. "If I need to lock you in here, isolate you from everyone else to make sure you're safe, I will."

Goosebumps rise on your skin, the usual tenderness, and warmth of his gaze replaced with cold determination as he glares back at you. The man who stood before you now is not your Kento, it's like he's a whole different person entirely making you instinctively pull your hands from his grip.

"You're hurting me, Kento. Let me go." You said, trying your best to make your voice sound leveled. Your mind already running in laps as you assess the situation.

You can't use brute force to get away from him as Kento is stronger than you, you need to find a different approach- a different tactic. Maybe you can manipulate him into letting go of you before grabbing your phone on the coffee table and calling someone—perhaps, Satoru?

"No." His voice was firm, his decision final. "I'm not letting you run away from me."

Those were the last words you heard, his fist being the last thing you see as darkness enveloped you.

Teddy Bear - Melanie Martinez

[PULSE] Chapter Index

↠ Summary: You fell in love with Kim Taehyung during Medical School. Now living totally different lives in completely different hospitals, you’re pulled together again as if by fate during a code black when someone plants a bomb in your hospital. 

↳ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | Epilogue

Drabbles: His Pulse (Med School)

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✏️ How to write a medical AU

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ sylus x fem!reader

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage, contract marriage, fluff, crack, eventual s/mut, angst, close proximity, cuffed together trope, illegal stuff (it's sylus we're talking about), suggestive, luke and kieran try to play cupid, language, tension, enemies to friends to lovers, heavy illusions to the myth of hades and persephone, pregnancy mention, more tba...

ᥫ᭡ updates every week with shorter chapters!

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒…

lesson 1: becoming mrs. qin

lesson 2: bathtime

lesson 3: my side of the bed

lesson 4: dancing with our hands tied

lesson 5: baby shower

lesson 6: cock(crow)blocked

lesson 7: dangerous liasons

lesson 8: how to love

lesson 9: haunting me

lesson 10: a N109 welcome

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 — f. megumi, i. yuuji

─── Caught between a man with a hidden curse inside his body and another man carrying the heavy burden of his father's sins, your fate was sealed the second you crossed paths with both of them.

genre — bd!megumi, soulmate!AU, love triangles

overall warnings — language, explicit smut, aged up!characters, pregnancy, violence, degrading language, possessiveness, angst, mentions of suicide, non-canon compliant, dark content, reader discretion is advised

author's note — this is a repost of one of my very first jjk series here on tumblr. i will be rewriting some scenes as my style has changed and evolved over the years and i wanted to reflect that growth

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ rbs to boost is very much appreciated !!

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𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗

chapter 1 ⋆ ★ chapter 2 ⋆ ★ chapter 3 ⋆ ★ chapter 4 ⋆ ★ chapter 5 ⋆ ★ chapter 6 ⋆ ★ chapter 7 ⋆ ★ chapter 8 ⋆ ★ chapter 9 ⋆ ★ chapter 10 ⋆ ★ chapter 11 ⋆ ★ chapter 12 ⋆ ★ chapter 13 ⋆ ★ chapter 14 ⋆ ★ chapter 15 ⋆ ★ chapter 16 ⋆ ★ chapter 17 ⋆ ★ chapter 18 ⋆ ★ chapter 19 ⋆ ★ chapter 20 ⋆ ★ finale ✧. ┊   alternative ending

all rights to the storyline is reserved by ©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or claim as your own.