Mmm

i just cried really bad

Yuuji's hand hovered over the receiver, paralysed. His universe zeroed in on the little plastic bubble around him, and the payphone, with the chatter, ringing, beeping and bustling of the Police Station behind him. The cuffs chafed on his wrist. He thought and thought, reaching for the receiver again, before freezing.

The police officer behind Yuuji tapped his foot. "Get on with it, kid." Yuuji shrunk in on himself, smaller than ever.

"Uhh...I'm really sorry. I don't think I'm ready for my first call yet. Can I have a bit longer?"

A huff from the officer. Yuuji's wrists clanked as he was grabbed by the upper arm, a heavy clang as he was pressed back into the cell, locked in. There was a drunk on the perpendicular bench. Some big guy with a kill you stare, the other side.

Yuuji tried not to cry as he hunched down towards his knees.

He had never felt so orphaned, as he did in this moment.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento hummed to himself, outwardly upbeat, and happy to be so in the absence of observers. He grabbed his travel mug from the desk; his paperwork was completed. He was advised he wouldn't be needed for the rest of the day, so why don't you just head off early? We'll just call you if we need you.

Words like syrup. Kento's metaphorical sweet shop. He lapped it up. He dropped you a text; home soon. I'll make dinner.

Making himself a fresh coffee, Kento felt his pocket buzzing. His humming stopped at the Unknown Number on screen, eyebrows pinching together. He answered, stirring his coffee.

"Nanami Kento speaking."

Initial silence. An awkward rustle. Kento waited.

"...Nanamin. I'm sorry, I...I didn't know who else to call. I'm in trouble." Kento turned his back on his coffee, pacing in front of his desk, a prickle of fear up his spine.

"Itadori-kun. Where are you?"

"I'm...I'm downtown. I was arrested. I was only trying to help--"

"I'll be right there. Don't say anything. You're safe. I'll be straight there."

Kento put the phone down, concern clipping his movements. He looked down at his phone, thinking. He tapped out two more text messages, grabbed his travel mug, and headed out to his car in long, purposeful strides.

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By the time Kento arrived, guided into the station by a receptionist, he scowled to see Yuuji being interrogated at a desk by an officer.

"I swear, I was just checkin' the place out, just--just bein' stupid, I didn't mean--"

"--didn't think the "No Entry" signs were for you, huh? What was the plan, go in and wreck the place? Damn kids--"

"Excuse me for interrupting. I don't believe you're supposed to be interviewing minors without a chaperone."

The police officer stopped, bristling as he looked up at Kento, looming down over him. Kento silenced Yuuji with a heavy hand on the shoulder. A travel mug of hot coffee was gently pressed into Yuuji's hands.

"Don't answer him, Yuuji. We're waiting for your lawyer."

Yuuji looked so small and tired, folded over on himself, that Kento felt a prickle of cold rage frost through him at Yuuji's treatment.

Kento's eyes flicked across the desk. He noted paperwork, with Yuuji's name. He noticed the 'Next of Kin' section...empty. Kento's stomach clenched, and his grip on Yuuji's shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly. The police officer shivered under a chilly gaze.

"Nanamin...I'm sorry--"

"I'm sure you have nothing to be sorry for. This man, however--" the officer's blood ran cold when Kento's eyes swung to him again, "--should know better than to bully a child."

A rustle and a clatter sounded behind Kento and Yuuji. Yuuji heard a deep voice, apologising for knocking something off a desk, before another hand landed on his other shoulder. Yuuji gaped up.

"...Higuruma?" Hiromi glanced down, coal-soft eyes belying a little smile. The police officer sputtered into his coffee, looking frantically between the two men, now.

"Higuruma? Shit. I don't get paid enough for this."

"I assume you're charging my client with something." Hiromi sat, crossing his legs, hands clasped on his lap.

"He broke into an abandoned hospital--"

"Was it locked?"

"...ahhh..."

"Did he cause any damage?" Total silence. Hiromi cleared his throat.

"Did my client come with you willingly?" The police officer's face twisted, bitter and snide.

Hiromi blinked once, slowly. "I see. So, simple trespass really? With a minor, first offence? A caution at most, really, isn't it."

Yuuji looked over to Kento, who was busy scribbling something on Yuuji's paperwork, while Hiromi ground the police officer into the dirt on the other side of him.

"I assume you felt something inside the hospital. You weren't investigating just for fun?" A stern gaze through tinted lens.

"No, I...I think there's a Curse in there. Didn't get to it before I ran into the cops."

A hum. "Ah. I'll get Ijichi onto it." Yuuji nodded, his eyes prickling with tears. Kento's hand tightened on his shoulder, grounding him, a flood of warmth down through his body.

"How long were you here for? Before you decided to call me."

"Uh...four or five hours." A pregnant pause from Kento. A sigh, Kento's voice softening.

"You can always call me, Yuuji." Kento stood, straightening his cuffs. "You'll come home with me for dinner. You're hungry." Yuuji's belly rumbled in response. Kento's lips almost quirked at Yuuji's sunny grin, reminded of another boy he once knew.

In due time, Yuuji was released with a caution. Hiromi clapped him on the shoulder with a lopsided smile, giving Yuuji's jaw a pat, before leaving for home. Yuuji stood, glancing at his paperwork on the desk.

In the previously empty "Next of Kin" section, in neat block capitals, with a phone number and address, was listed: NANAMI KENTO.

oh no please dont pin my wrists above my head and prevent me from moving while you kiss my neck and whisper all the fucked up things you want to do to me

Kitty is PURRING 🐈‍⬛

• NSFW version on my Patreon Tier 1, link in bio! ♡

Is this thing on……..

waxing time with your boyfriend. ryomen sukuna (sfw)

cw: fluff, crack, sukuna is too confident.

After yet another groan of pain, you rip off the strip of hard wax from your inner thigh. “Fuck…” you curse.

The wax has gripped all your hairs well, and you raise an amused eyebrow, holding the strip up to the light to observe the satisfying bulb pulled out from the root. Waxing has always been a monthly routine for you, a way to maintain your body to feel good with smooth, soft skin — and not to please your boyfriend who clearly doesn't care about your body hair.

And you thank him for that.

Sukuna is not the kind of boyfriend who complains or cares about your appearance. While many partners refuse to have sex with their girlfriends over body hair, knowing that Sukuna is not one of them soothes your nerves when his angry/irritated side shows. You even accept closing your eyes when he yells from the other end of the apartment that he's hungry and wants his “woman” to make him some food.

With a smirk, you stir a wooden stick to mix and then take some more wax from your wax warmer. The next strip is inevitably painful, located along the bikini line. The particularly sensitive and thin skin around this area never fails to elicit a squeal of pain when you rip the hairs from this spot.

And that’s exactly what happens.

Your sharp cry of pain catches the attention of your boyfriend, who stomps into the room, growling. He leans against the doorway and crosses his tattooed arms over his chest. “What is it now, woman?”

“I rustle up a magic potion,” you reply tartly.

Without leaving the room once, you finish waxing your bikini line, one hand armed with a cold compress pressed against the irritated, slightly reddened areas.

Sukuna steps over the distance between you and lowers his nose towards your wax warmer to sniffle it. “This is really a stupid thing humans have invented.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well, this ‘thing’ hurts a lot,” you clarify, hopping in place because the irritation annoys you, and the best way you’ve found to cope is to hop around to distract yourself.

“Pfff. You’re just an overdramatic crybaby. It can’t hurt that much.”

Your eye twitches and a vein bulges on your temple. “Oh yeah?”

A few minutes later...

“THIS IS SORCERY! GET IT OFF ME!” Sukuna yells, one foot propped on the edge of the bed with a long pink wax strip along his hairy calf.

On your side, you’ve been laughing uncontrollably for a good five minutes, tears in your eyes and your stomach almost painfully contracted from laughing.

“STOP LAUGHING, WOMAN! I’LL KILL YOU!”

And as you’re about to pull the wax strip, you grip the lip with your fingertips to yank it off sharply.

Sukuna lets out a scream as high-pitched as a little girl’s or a bat’s while your even louder laughter echoes in the room.

i was onto something

Random texts w Tokyo debunker dudes

Okay I enjoy shitposting a lot 🙇‍♂️ and happy new year to all the women 😇 men u think abt what u have done.

teatime

⋆ ࣪. zhongli x reader

contents Ⳋ fluff fluff fluff, mutual pining, zhongli is so smitten ohhhh

a/n : felt nice to write sum fluff for a change :3 i hope you guys like it !!! i had fun writing this lolol

word count: 869

a faint tune played in the background of a teahouse tucked away in qingce village; tea and an aroma of incense clouded your senses.

“it seems as if my invitations to you have become a habit of mine. i hope it isn’t grueling for you,” zhongli speaks, his golden orbs cast upon you. he delicately lifts his teacup to his lips. you shake your head. “nonsense,” you smile, “i’d not rather be anywhere else.” you follow suit, lifting the teacup to your lips and taking a sip. the taste of sugar and tea leaves swarm your mouth; a wonderful taste.

his eyes never ceased to fixate upon you. he was enamored — though his eyes were calm — as if he was gazing upon the moon and the vast night sky, or basking beneath the sun. “would you like another cup?” zhongli’s voice was soft, almost as if he weren’t human. his eyes were filled with a gentle gaze that made you feel warm. his lips curved into a thin upturned smile.

you nod, your eyes shining upon is. “i’d much appreciate that. thank you, zhongli.” his name flows off your tongue like butter. as if it was always meant for you to say. “of course.”

zhongli sets his empty cup, then quietly poured another cup from the kettle, steam rising to the ceiling. zhongli was incredibly focused on the task at hand, but also extremely conscious of your presence. he would glance at you from time to time. you watch his movements with precision, and you wonder how his actions always seemed to be so graceful and flawless.

he hands you your cup, his fingers gently grazing against yours amidst the action. “thank you,” you say, your voice quieter. you didn’t want to distract him, he seemed focused. he notices the shift in your voice, his gaze back to remaining on your face. the way his fingers brushed against yours wasn’t accidental; he didn’t mind the contact, in fact, he was comforted by it. “you are welcome.”

the moment went on quietly, until he cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. he sipped on his tea, his gaze lingering as you set the teacup down on the silver plate that matched. you take a cube of sugar and drops it into the seething liquid, stirring it with the tip of your finger before bringing it to your lips with a hum. you pick it up carefully and take a sip, a sigh. “your tea is always amazing, zhongli.”

he smiles. he doesn’t mind being complimented so regularly, as long as it is from you. “the art of making tea is something i’ve perfected over the eons,” his voice was deep and soft — warm — and a light chuckle leaves him. “tea brings life to the table. i hope it isn’t too strong for you.”

your lips curl into a gentle smile. you love the sound of his voice; baritone and rumbling. comforting. you shake your head. “i’d never refuse tea, especially brewed from the hands of you,” you chuckle. he couldn’t help the way his heart tendered at your words. he chuckles in return, a gesture he had heard from you multiple times before.

your heart beat is ringing in your ears, unbeknownst to him. the way he never fails to extend an invitation toward you for a cup of tea always had you giddy, no less with his voice, his gentleness and his entire being. the way he looked at you had you melting every time. you couldn’t help but wonder — was there something more to this? or were you being delusional?

“how does it taste?” he inquires, his voice gentle as his eyes remained glued to yours, not daring to gaze anywhere else, just in case he would not be met with yours again. you snap from your little daze and clear your throat a bit. “it’s delightful,” you smile, your voice a bit softer as you look at him.

a beat of silence goes by.

“you are beautiful.”

oh. oh. was this happening? were you hearing things correctly?

he watched your cheeks heat up a little, and he smiles. he gazes at you as if it was the first time he’s seen you, as if he wanted to commit these moments to memory. “t—thank you,” you mutter, unknowing of how to go about this.

he smiles and begins. “since we’ve been drinking tea together in the evenings for quite a while, i’ve come to notice something about myself.” he speaks, and you hum. “what may that be?” you ask with a tilt of your head. you feel your heart in your throat. there’s no way.

he hesitates for a moment. it was as if he was trying to find the right words to say; but he decides to express his words with conviction, just as he spoke before. “i feel a deep sense of attachment to you,” he begins, his hand extending to yours and gently placing it atop your skin, “as if you’ve become… a part of me.”

you smile, your eyes sparkling with a glimmer of joy. “im glad im not the only one who feels that way, then.”

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