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romewritingshop · 5 months

Text

Main Tera (Side Story)

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Brown Indian Female Reader

Tropes: Childhood lovers, Exes-to-lovers, Fake dating, co-workers-to-lovers, wedding

MASTERLIST

A/N: Side story is here! And this is the end for Kento and his brown skinned girl. I'm gonna miss this couple. They were a good balance of each other.

Thanks and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! Follow, comment or reblog, IDC because I enjoy writing this fic. Please pay attention before reading.

NO UNDER 18s 🔞

WARNING: Smut, Explicit Sex, Fingering, Sexual teasing, Office sex, making out, masturbation, hand on throat (no choking) and hair tugging (THAT NANAMI SCENE), oral (Female recieving), creampie, rough sex, back scratches, half clothed sex, Semi-public (They almost get caught).

Satoru Gojo frowned as his hand sped up in squeezing his stress ball tightly. His sunglass eyes zeroed in on the team leader's door, leaning back on his chair. His posture and stress ball were doing nothing to alleviate his nagging curiosity as Suguru came back from the toilet. Once again seeing his best friend stare at Nanami's door.

“I thought I told you to stop staring at that door, Satoru.”

“There's something going on between Nanami and (Y/N).”

Suguru exhaled exasperatedly, plopping down on his office chair, sliding next to Satoru.

“What's your evidence this time?”

“The two of them have been in there for an hour and a half.”

Suguru deadpanned, returning back to his computer to log on and get started with work.

“Satoru. They must be having a meeting.”

“For that long?”

“Well they are trying to secure the Malaysian Food Tycoon as a client. So yes it'll be that long.”

Satoru huffed, returning to his computer. Even since Nanami and (Y/N) returned from (Y/N)’s cousin's wedding, their co-workers have changed. They were both grumpier than usual but Satoru had an inkling that they were trying to deter everyone from the fact that they were dating or hooking up. So he was slowly gathering evidence but his best friend Suguru didn't have his back.

“Look … I know that there is something going on. And I'll prove it to you.”

The door opened as (Y/N) stepped out to look over the file in her hand. Nanami was next to her, pointing out a few things before they both returned to their places. A light bulb lit in Satoru's mind as he smirked at Suguru, the dark haired man furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously.

“What are you planning?”

“I'm gonna ask (Y/N) to be my date for the company event tomorrow.”

“Don't bother. Yaga strictly said no dates.”

Satoru slapped his thigh, leaning back and throwing his stress ball in the air to catch it before another idea snapped into his head.

��I got it. I'll ask her to wear a saree like last time.”

Suguru frowned, stopping what he was doing to stare at his friend. Unable to comprehend the stupidity in that plan as he scooted forward and flicked Satoru's forehead.

“She always says no.”

“Yeah but the catch is that I'll ask in earshot of Nanami. She'll say no to me but Nanami will persuade her into wearing one. If she does wear a saree, I'm right and she and Nanami have something going on. If she doesn't, then I'm wrong. Come on Suguru! Trust me on this. I bet you she will wear a saree.”

Suguru smirked as he raised an eyebrow. Knowing that he will easily win this bet. Like all bets they have placed in the past, Suguru won them. He was ready to bite as he gave a nod, whilst folding his arms.

“Is this a confirmed bet?”

Instead of a worried fearful look, Satoru tilted the rim of his sunglasses down his nose, his blue eyes sparkled with mischievous delight.

“Oh yeah! I, Satoru Gojo, bet to Suguru Geto that (Y/N) Aggarwal will wear a saree to tomorrow's event.”

His hand thrusted forward which made Suguru eye it carefully, his eyebrow quirked up as he remembered.

“What's the prize and forfeit this time?”

“Whatever you want, Suguru.”

The dark haired man's eyes widened, surprised by the serious weight to the words. Satoru was determined to make this bet which had the cogs in Suguru's head turn. It had to be big and something that would kill Satoru. He didn't know what to do as he leaned back to ask the brunette beside Satoru's desk.

“Hey Shoko! Need your help.”

She dragged her chair around to swivel in-between the two tall men. Her eyes darted between the two to ask.

“What do you need?”

“Need to come up with a forfeit for a bet against Satoru. Said I could do anything.”

Shoko's face twitched as she slowly turned her head to stare Satoru dead in the eyes. Finding it incredulous as she stuttered.

“Do you have some sort of death wish? You don't have a winning streak when it comes to bets with Suguru.”

Satoru rolled his eyes as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair.

“I know but I have a guarantee that I'll win this bet.”

“And that is…”

“(Y/N) will wear a saree for tomorrow's event.”

Shoko turned her head to Suguru, the two of them having a silent conversation about how crazy Satoru was. But it seemed like Shoko got her answer as she exhaled before her eyes widened in glee. As she laid out her idea.

“Are your Tiktok followers still asking for you to do a dance in a maid outfit?”

Satoru's lips almost did a glitching motion, understanding the hidden motive behind Shoko's words. He gives a firm nod as he knows that he will still win the bet.

“Yes and if that's what you're suggesting then I'm game.”

Shoko and Suguru share a stunned look, immediately understanding that Satoru was serious.

“Fine. If you lose the bet, you have to wear a maid dress and dance for your Tiktok followers. If I lose the bet, -”

“I get to take her out on a date.”

Suguru frowned in confusion, before his eyes widened in shock. His skin paler than ever as he stuttered.

“Her?”

“Yeah her. You have to give me her number and I get to go on five dates.”

“One date.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

Finally both men settled on three. The two men shook hands and now their bet was sealed with Shoko overseeing it.

After an hour, it was just getting close to lunch time and (Y/N) was sitting at her desk. Satoru could spot his co-worker getting ready to go out for lunch. Nanami had gotten out of his office with a file in hand, turning to (Y/N)’s direction. This was his break as Satoru stood up and swooped his way to sit on the corner of (Y/N)’s desk.

His co-worker exhaled, glancing up at the blue-eyed crazy.

“Satoru. Can I help you?”

Satoru smirked as he rolled his eyes.

“Can't I just sit here and catch up with you? You were gone for a while and I wanted to hear about India.”

(Y/N) leaned back on her chair with her arms folded, giving Satoru a deadpan expression which made Satoru scratch at the back of his head.

“What do you want?”

“Right. Erm tomorrow …”

“I am not going to wear a saree, Satoru Gojo.”

“Oh come on!” Satoru jumped and had the whiny voice of a five year old. “You'd look so good in them and you'd get everyone's attention.”

“Yeah and they would focus on my boobs rather than the work I'm talking about.”

“Ha you said boobs!”

(Y/N)’s hand was about to reach her stapler so that she could throw it at Satoru. The tall silver-haired man nervously laughed as he stood up and held wary hands out to calm her co-worker.

“Hey hey! Chill. But seriously, like you'd look good in a saree.”

“Bye Satoru!”

(Y/N) jumped up and stomped away from Satoru, passing Nanami. The blonde haired man's eyes followed (Y/N) before focusing on the insubordinate in front of him.

“What were you talking about?”

Gojo smirked as a plan formulated in his head. He exhaled dramatically, slowly building up to his part.

“Ah it's nothing. I just wanted to ask her to join Suguru, Shoko and I for lunch but she ran away, said she had plans for lunch.”

Gojo shrugged as he strolled away from Nanami, his hands in his pocket and a smirk on his face knowing that his plan was soon going to work.

~~~~

“Mhmmm.”

Kento hummed delightfully as he shared a long passionate kiss with (Y/N). The two of them were in his apartment living room, finally able to kiss each other after restraining themselves at work. Since the two of them returned from (Y/N)’s cousin's wedding. They rekindled their love and became a couple once again.

This has been going on for a month and it was tricky to hide this relationship from their co-workers. All apart from Haibara, who walked in on the two of them kissing at the wedding. Daadi knew as well, ‘how’ was never a question that needed to be asked.

(Y/N) was staying the night over and the two were getting a little hot and heavy during their movie watch. Kento had fully reclined back on the sofa with his girlfriend sitting on his lap and running her fingers through his shaggy hair. Tasting like raspberries and chocolate which had Kento constantly chasing after her lips.

Finally she let go to take a moment to breathe, a soft lazy smile made its way to her cheeks as she asked.

“Nanami…”

“We're not at work now Darling, call me by my name.”

“Kento…”

He gave a short kiss before looking down at her body, wearing matching pink silk pyjamas that were so loose that it left him imagining her body underneath. His vision shifted as he wondered how she would look in a saree. Gojo's words were playing up in his mind and before he knew it, his mouth began to speak.

“What are you wearing tomorrow?”

“Hmm?”

“Tomorrow's party. What are you wearing?”

It took (Y/N) a few seconds to bring her focus back to reality, her arms looped around Kento's neck and his hands rested on her hips, stroking slowly in an up-down motion. She shrugged, not thinking much about his words.

“Just a blue dress, why?”

Kento shook his head, gently lifting her off his lap and grasping her hand to lead her to his bedroom closet. It was big and spacious but what he wanted was a small box that was nestled underneath his hanging shirts. It was a blue cardboard box as he handed it to (Y/N), smiling at her.

“I … had Daadi go to the shops for me to pick this outfit for you. Would you please wear it for tomorrow?”

Her cheeks flushed red as she took the box from his hand. Peeling the lid off and lifting the outfit up, only for her eyebrows to crease suspiciously as she ran the long fabric through her fingers. It was a black chiffon/tulle saree with lace embroidered on it, accompanied by an embroidered black t-shirt bra blouse which would be eye-catching.

Her eyes darted from the outfit in hand to her boyfriend Kento. Surely he was joking as she huffed nervously as she asked.

“A saree? Why a saree?”

“Because you'd look beautiful in it.”

“Kento.”

He smiled so sincerely which made her heart soften as she hugged him, thanking him for the gift. There was no way that Nanami came up with this idea himself and she knew that tomorrow, she was going to kill Satoru Gojo.

~~~~

“So ready to lose the bet Satoru?”

Suguru raises an eyebrow as his hands nestled in his haori pocket. Suguru had gone for a mixture of modern and traditional outfit, wearing a suit pant and white shirt as well as a purple and golden haori on top. Meanwhile Satoru and Shoko stuck to more traditional black tie outfits. Shoko was in a simple brown full sleeve dress and Satoru was in a black and white suit with a black tie, blue circle rimmed sunglasses and slick back hair.

Satoru rolled his eyes as he turned his head around to see Haibara talking to a party guest. He waved to get the younger co-worker's attention which made him politely excuse himself before approaching his older co-workers.

“Any word from (Y/N)? The party's started.”

It was held in a large spacious conference hall with a small buffet table of dishes. Waiters were going around serving pinot grior in champagne flutes. The lighting had a slight golden glow. It was the company event to celebrate the company's success as well as to introduce themselves to new potential clients.

Haibara pulled at the collar of his shirt, rather nervously as he whispered.

“She's running late. She should be here any minute.”

Haibara grinned before his eyes landed on Shoko, a smile on his face as he held a hand out to separate Shoko away from Suguru and Satoru. The two men glanced around before Suguru spotted (Y/N) at the entrance. His eyes widened and he caught himself about to drop his flute.

In front of him, (Y/N) had her eyes narrowed, looking around whilst adjusting her outfit. It was what Satoru bet, (Y/N) Aggarwal had worn a saree. A black tulle saree, the skirt was long and had pleats. The extra scarf was draped across her chest. Her jet black hair had a shaggy damp look to it which just looked attractive.

(Y/N) had killed it and Suguru was in trouble as his eyes widened. He needed to prevent Satoru from spotting (Y/N), downing his drink and dropping it onto a nearby tall table. Suguru looped his arm around Satoru's shoulders, leading him to have his back facing their co-worker. Making some kind of excuse as he pointed at a few girls in front of him.

Satoru frowned as he once again came in front of Suguru to question this strange behaviour but his eyes darted over his shoulder before locking on the target of their bed. His jaw dropped, hooking a finger around his sunglasses leg and yanking them off to get a better look.

He tucked his glasses into his shirt collar, chuckling as he brought his hand to the side of Suguru's face, pushing to the right so that Suguru wasn't blocking his vision.

“Well well well, Suguru! Looks like I was right. Hey Shoko!”

Hearing her name being called, she and Haibara rejoined Suguru and Satoru. Her eyebrows quirked up and Haibara had a confused smile on his face as Satoru announced.

“I have won the bet Shoko, and now as requested Suguru must allow me three dates.”

Suguru had a foul expression as he fished for his phone, taking it out and forwarding the number to Satoru, shivering at what he had done. Giving his best friend the cruelest stink-eye and regretting the fact that he didn't embellish more on the bet.

“I hope you're happy.”

“Oh yeah! I can't wait for the date.”

Haibara didn't know who they were talking about as he raised his hand slightly as if asking to join the conversation.

“Hey … who are you talking about?”

Satoru shook his head, leaning his arm on Suguru's shoulder.

“Suguru's hot cousin who just became a nurse. By the way, thank you Suguru.”

The dark haired man rolled his eyes which made Satoru laugh out loud, his eyes going around before noticing that (Y/N) wasn't in the room. His head turned left and right but she wasn't there.

“Hey, have you seen where (Y/N) went?”

“She was - Huh? She was just there a minute ago.”

“What's strange is that I haven't seen Nanami since I got here? Where are they?”

~~~~

A soft moan and humming sound can be heard from an office, Kento and (Y/N) were in his office, kissing and connecting. Her lips caressing and licking his lips while her hands were around Kento's neck, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. His hands were on her waist, feeling a mixture of soft supple skin and rough tulle fabric.

His office was a fairly nice size with ceiling to floor windows and a sturdy mahogany desk. On the right hand side of the desk was a filing shelf with all sorts of files and books. Some files were dropped on the floor as Kento had his girl pressed up on that wall before he lifted her onto his desk.

This was something they would never do, they could easily get caught and so far they had been so good at keeping a low profile. It was Kento's fault, he took one look at (Y/N) and immediately he just had to savour her. Before she could greet anyone else, he swooped in and led her into his office.

Which led them to their current actions, Kento brought his fingers to where the remaining saree was over her shoulder. He unveiled it off her like he was opening a present, reluctantly he let go of her lips and trailed down her jaw, to lick and nibble into the base of her neck. He could taste a slight bitterness of perfume which enthralled his nose with notes of bergamot and jasmine.

This felt so wrong as she brought her nimble fingers to his shirt buttons, having already shrugged off his blazer when they made out against the shelf. Finally she saw his bare chest that she had been craving to see since they started dating. Kento pulled away from her neck for the moment, after giving her a wet hickey that made her yelp and whine.

His voice was hoarse as one hand cupped her cheek while the other was pressed on the bare expanse of her shoulder blades. Kento's nose was brushing against hers as he had to ask.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Darling?”

“What do you mean? Of course.”

(Y/N) was about to lean in again but he held her arms down before she could move. Looking directly in her eyes so that he could get his words across to her.

“Look … it's only been a month. I don't want to rush you into anything. We just got together after 13 years.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow before she let out a sound of realisation, giving a firm nod.

“Hm, maybe you're right.”

Kento gave a nod as he stepped back holding a hand out to help his girl off the table as she continued.

“We should wait.”

Her boyfriend gave a nod as he was just about to button his shirt when her next words made him pause so he could catch it clearly.

"I mean it's not like I spent everyday thinking of you for the last 13 years. We should push aside the thousands of nights where I laid in bed alone. No one but … me in the house, me and my thoughts. And honestly, they get wild.”

Kento paused before his eyes widened to his girlfriend, as she had her back facing him. She pressed her body against the table, grabbing the hem of the saree, dragging it up the back of her legs and revealing her butt.

He took a sharp inhale when he could see her underwear nestled in the folds of her vagina, soaked from their kissing and his eyes followed her fingers. One hand held the saree up to be bunched up around her waist while the other began to rub over her underwear.

“I've thought about this kind of scenario. You take me into your office, bend me over your desk like this. Slowly. Slowly. Using your fingers to tease me more.”

As (Y/N) speaks, she gets more and more wet. Glancing over her shoulder to see Kento completely entranced by her actions. His hands flexed with tension as he was hypnotised by his girlfriend's filthy lewd acts. Completely surprised by the way she is acting, as he resisted falling into her trap.

“Oh! You'd treat me so well. Even when we were young, you used to treat me to ice cream. So good f’me.”

She gasps and her leg jerks at the building pressure on her clit. (Y/N) is trying so hard to charm Kento and she can tell she's close to breaking him. Her next words might push him to the brink.

“Everytime I put my fingers in, I'd imagine it was your fingers. Even when I was with my ex, I'd always imagine it was you. Reminding me that I'm yours.”

Kento Nanami snapped as he stepped forward to loom over her, one hand wrapping around her as a makeshift ponytail while his over hand squeezed her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him. His soft gentle gaze was replaced by a steely callous expression, the corner of his lip twitched as he hummed.

“I was going to step back so we continue to build our relationship. But you just love to test me. Remember that you asked for this.”

He gave a short sweet kiss as he began to rut against her, her butt and the back of her thighs would push against the front of his thighs. The hand that was in her hair, stroked a line down her body, underneath her saree and underwear. Sinking in three fingers which had her hiss at the sudden intrusion, her vagina grew more wet at the rough treatment.

He thrusted the fingers at a quick speed which had her gasp, Kento's other hand slid down to the base of (Y/N)’s throat, his lips came over to push his tongue in and lick inside her mouth. Whilst he was kissing her, his eyes watched her right hand, pressing down on the table. His gaze narrowed particularly on the fingers, his mind spiralled and for a moment he thought he saw a diamond ring on it.

(Y/N) choked at the sudden speed increase of his fingers, feeling her orgasm come much quicker than she was used to. She panted, moving her lips away and pleading.

“K - K - Kento! I - I n-need more-”

Just before she could say, Kento pulled his fingers out and spun his girl around to once again seat her on top of his desk. His mouth was going dry, desperate to do everything but having so little time. He glanced down at the way his dick was straining in his pants, clenching his fists tight as he warned.

“We shouldn't.”

(Y/N) whined as she spoke with an airy tone.

“Please! Need you in me.”

“Fuck! I don't have a condom.”

“Sh, it's ‘kay. ‘M clean and have an implant.”

His heart pumped rather aggressively as he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped pants, pushing them down enough for his dick to come out.

Before (Y/N) could get a chance to complain, Kento finally pushed himself inside of her. His head rolled back with a groan as her vaginal walls had clamped itself around his dick. What he had dreamt for 11 years of his life (Because he didn't start thinking about sex and masturbation until he was about 16.) Was nothing close to the present.

She was in heaven. Years of dreaming of Kento and now she finally could feel him inside her. Leaning her head onto his shoulder before looking up into his eyes with watered eyes.

“K-K-Kento.”

Her legs tensed at the sudden rough intrusion as she hissed, her fingernails clawing at his back while her legs wrapped around his waist. Heels digging into his calves as Kento pressed rushed sloppy kisses onto her forehead.

“Shush! ‘M sorry.”

He slowly reared his hips back before pushing forward again, his pace which was hard and rough, the two of them could barely hold on to each other as their skin started to grow hot. He could feel the sweat on his back as he watched (Y/N) gasp and whimper. A complete opposite to the usual loud mouth aggression she would bring out on the daily.

Kento's lips curled up in a smirk as he raised her left calf onto his shoulder, going deeper and actually hitting her g-spot. Her back arched, letting out a silent cry while her eyes streamed down her face at the intensity of his thrusts. Unable to hold herself up she dropped her back against the desk, one hand holding the edge beside her head and the other resting on top of his hand which was holding her leg against his body.

One thrust. Two thrust. Three thrust.

Kento's right hand moved around to where the clitoris hood was, pressing down and rubbing circles which made her hiss harder at the insane play on her body.

“You look incredibly beautiful like this. Quiet and desperate for me.”

A small laugh left her lips as he slowed his movements down, curious as to why she was laughing.

“Desperate? Says the one who brought me in here.”

Kento let out a deep chuckle, leaning down to hover over her. She smacked her teeth at the burning stretch in the back of her thigh as her boyfriend pecked her lips.

“Well I wasn't the one touching myself now, was I?”

(Y/N) smirked and was about to open her mouth to give a rebuttal but Kento straightened his posture and thrusted into his girl, humming with a moan instead. Slowly he continued to gyrate his hips into her, taking control and fluidly fucking himself into her, while she soundlessly gasped and bit her lip.

It wasn't long before her back arched at the tickle of her spot and without any word of warning she shuddered from her intense orgasm. Her eyes fluttered closed and Kento raised an eyebrow at her quietness.

“Did you just-?”

(Y/N) gave a nod and shivered from the overstimulation. The sex she was having with Kento now was completely different than her drunken one night stand that she had with a Kento lookalike. Clearly she missed out at the intense emotions and feelings that came with sex as Kento began to increase his pace.

He was close to coming as he began to kiss and nibble on (Y/N)’s calf before groaning and asking.

“Fuck! ‘M gonna cum soon.”

“D-d-do it i-i-in me. Less mess.”

Kento huffed with a smile, nodding against her leg before his back rolled from intense pleasure and he came inside her. There was a wide grin on his face as he carefully slid (Y/N)’s leg off his shoulder after he pressed soft kisses against the bite marks. Finally able to have sex with her as his eyes went down to admire his dick inside her debauched pussy.

There was a lot of fluid on the both of them as he slowly pulled his dick out. She flinched and his eyes were wide with wonder at the way her vagina pulsated at the loss of his dick. Almost craving for Kento again as he watched his semen leaking out of her entrance.

Kento's eyes darted around to look for something to clean up before he went down on his knees for a closer look. He brought his fingers to swipe the fluid into his mouth which made her hum and moan. He brought his tongue to lick at her labia and around her clitoris, making sure to thoroughly clean her up before then hooking his finger into the gusset of her underwear and bringing it back to cover her.

(Y/N) had her eyes closed as she twitched with tiredness at the incredible sex. Slowly she opened her eyes to see her loving boyfriend licking his lips, tucking his dick into his pants to then zip up and buckle. He buttoned up his shirt, tucking it into his trousers before bending down to loop his undone bowtie around his neck.

He had a soft lazy smile on his face as he brought gentle hands to her shoulders, helping his girlfriend slowly sit up, giving her a kiss before draping the remaining fabric of her saree across her chest again. Their bliss came to a sudden halt as the door to their office opened and their tall silver-haired co-worker was standing at the door.

His blue eyes widened, bringing a hand to point at the couple before screeching.

“I fucking knew it! Suguru!”

Satoru spun around and left the office to get Suguru. This gave Kento and (Y/N) only a few minutes before they were to be discovered in a compromising position. Kento was completely red in the face and (Y/N) could feel heat flaring in her ears. They basked in embarrassment for a good minute before they sprung into action.

Kento went around his desk to put his blazer on and to redo his bowtie while (Y/N) got off his table and straightened her saree. A light bulb went off in her head as she sat down on Kento's desk, opening the computer as she asked.

“Hey, what's the password?”

“10thingsiloveaboutU.”

(Y/N) wiggled her eyebrows at her boyfriend's cheesy password, which was a play on their first movie date. Typing it in and opening up YouTube so she could find a fake zoom call video. She gestured for Kento to come over and stand next to her before she pressed play. At the same time, the office door opened and Satoru burst in followed by Suguru, Shoko and Haibara.

“I told you these two are-”

Satoru cut off as his jaw dropped at the completely mundane scene in front of him. This wasn't how he saw it. He only had been away for two minutes and the room looked neater than ever. (Y/N) was talking rather animatedly in Hindi while Nanami glared at Satoru.

Giving (Y/N) a tap on the shoulder before going forward to shoo them out of the office, Nanami closed the door behind him and glared at his four co-workers.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Satoru glowered as he pointed an accusatory finger at his Team Leader.

“You tell me. You two were just fucking in there.”

Nanami scoffed rather disgustingly.

“How dare you? We were in the middle of a call with a potential client from India and you burst in with inappropriate claims. I could fire you for that.”

Suguru and Shoko had nervous glints as Suguru tugged his best friend's arm.

“I'm sorry, Nanami Sir! Satoru has had one too many drinks! We'll keep an eye on him.”

Suguru and Shoko dragged Satoru away, the tall man was still giving a childish stink eye. Haibara still stood there with his arms folded as Nanami mimicked his stance.

“What's the matter Haibara?”

“Were you seriously having sex in there?”

Nanami scrunched up his face but Haibara gave him a deadpan expression. He could not hide it as the blush on his face gave it away which made Haibara's face scrunched up with shame as he gritted his teeth.

“Gross! You guys know better than that.”

“I know.”

Haibara shook his head and gave a friendly pat on the shoulder to his friend. Informing him to come join them for toasts before leaving Nanami alone in front of his office. A soft relieved exhale left his lips, the door of his office opened and (Y/N) peeked her head through, looking around before stepping out.

“That was close.”

“Haibara knows what we did.”

This made Kento's girlfriend pinch her nose before she huffed, straightening the pleats of her saree and making herself presentable. She glanced up at Kento, awkwardly smiling at him.

“Right … well I'll see you there.”

She was about to walk off when Kento grabbed her wrist and spun her around into his chest, pecking her lips once more before he asked.

“You okay after what we did?”

She gave a bashful smile, nodding and kissing his cheek as a way to show her appreciation. (Y/N) slowly pulled herself away from her boyfriend, giving one final look over her shoulder before rejoining everyone in the party hall. Kento wistfully sighed as he reached into his pocket to fumble with a small velvet box.

He could always ask her another day.

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walkawaytall · 7 months

Note

Fic anon here! No worries about publishing (or not, ofc). I was in another fandom that involved a lot of very meta+crack minifics shared on anon purely for silly purposes and while we don't do that so much in this corner of the SW fandom, the inspiration just like hit re: your name

While I'm jabbering in your inbox, for your fanfic write asks: 5! 7!

Oh, good, I'm glad I didn't commit a faux pas :). Thank you!

Onward to answers:

5. Is there a tiny detail in one of your fics that you feel goes tragically unnoticed?

This is really just an inside joke with myself (I mean, I did make a Tumblr post about it, but I haven't drawn attention to it on the sites where I post, and no one has mentioned that they noticed), but there's this half-heard argument about something Luke dubs "The Snakebite Incident" in Speak Louder and...okay the thing is, at the time that I wrote Speak Louder, I had written The Short Stick, posted it, and then taken it down a couple of hours later because I was self-conscious about it for some reason, and I had plans to totally overhaul The Short Stick or whatever. I needed something mind-numbingly stupid for Han and Leia to argue about, and The Snakebite Incident argument was in The Short Stick. So, I stole the short bit of dialogue from my own story, dumped it in Speak Louder as this argument that Luke is tired of hearing because they're both unreliable narrators, so he never gets the full story, and every time the situation gets brought up, they fight about it, and everyone is over hearing the same argument.

And then, months later, I reread The Short Stick after letting it chill for awhile and I don't hate it. I'm not self-conscious about it any more. But, crap, I gutted that one argument for a different story, now I have to come up with something equally stupid for them to argue about, right?

Or. Instead...they can have the same argument, almost word-for-word with a few variations. Because the entire point of this argument is that everyone around them only gets some of the details, no one has 100% of the story except Han and Leia themselves, and they keep having it to the annoyance of anyone within hearing distance. (Though, Han does learn a grammatical lesson between Speak Louder and The Short Stick and corrects himself before Leia can get to it the second time around.) So, yeah, I'm probably going to keep including it in things if it fits and doesn't become excessive because I find it funny.

7. Share a line or paragraph you’ve written that you don’t think will ever actually be posted in anything! (Or, if you don’t hoard cut sentences and passages like I do, share anything you want that has yet to see the light of day!)

Here, I'll share the start of a story that I'm pretty sure started with, "Let's do a bottle-episode-style story!" (I think I've started three different stories with this concept and a proper bottle episode has never emerged from these attempts) and not much in way of plot or purpose. I'm not going to resurrect this. It's never going anywhere because it had nowhere to go in the first place, but it's a moment, I guess:

Leia was going to lose her mind or murder Han Solo — though she supposed the two actions weren’t mutually exclusive. They were supposed to meet with the leaders of a small cell of rebels who’d been fighting their own battles against the Empire unaided on Mimban. Leia’s goal was to offer aid in exchange for the group officially joining the Alliance. The entire trip was supposed to be short — land, meet, negotiate whatever terms needed negotiating, leave — but when they arrived in the small, dingy, building where they were supposed to meet their contacts, they were told they needed to wait.

It had been half an hour. Half an hour spent sitting in a small, poorly lit room where the temperature seemed to vary wildly by the minute with only Han for company, and Han was beginning to get antsy. Leia fully understood the struggles of sitting still, of waiting. She’d never been particularly good at it, and had developed several subtle ways over the years to move and fidget without others catching on. She knew the feeling of a spring in her torso coiling ever tighter until she finally had to move. She also knew that Han’s restlessness was excessive in a way that almost seemed calculated.

First had been the leg switching. He’d initially sat with the ankle of one leg crossed over the knee of the other. A few minutes in, he’d switched legs. Leia herself had shifted her weight at least once in that time and, had she not been looking directly at Han at the time, she likely wouldn’t have noticed. Except he kept doing it every minute or so, with the frequency eventually increasing to every twenty seconds.

Every twenty seconds. On the dot. Leia counted.

She sighed, all but shivering as the temperature in the corridor they waited in dropped for the third time. “Shouldn’t have to wait much longer,” she said, a hint of apology in her tone.

Han shrugged. “I got nowhere to be.” He shifted his legs again.

Leia studied him for a moment. “You can go outside for a bit if you want. See the sights.”

He looked at her incredulously. “I’ve seen these sights, Princess. Trust me, I’m good.”

She pursed her lips. “Okay, well, I’m going to need you to stop moving your legs every five seconds because I’m about to lose my mind.”

Thanks!

fanfic writer asks

#my asks #fic writer asks #fanfic writer ask game #fanfic writer asks #fanfic writer ask #ask away

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wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj · 1 year

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Opinion on Watt's relationships with Milo Strange and Jack Walker?

who are you and why are you after my blood

theres a read more. look what youve made me do. this is a long detailed rant on why i dont like the watts plot in s15, including some good old fashioned resentment for jackwatts. proceed at your own risk

jack was really nice at first, i shipped them, i wrote a short fic or two even. of course he was bland but like the entire fandom held on to the idea that he'd eventually be developed slowly as the episodes go by right. right. idk i think it's the love of a soft and reserved and "normal" love interest for our guy whose life has been so much turmoil, so far from "normal" for so long. but we never really got good jack development did we, the most of his character being mostly made up in the fandom's heads. (ive skimmed aios, really good fic, murdoch fandom staple, like im at least somewhat cultured).

and then well it happened, ministry of virtue, everything goes to shit, their relationship has hardly been anything onscreen and now its over and i lose my mind because i'd been so hopeful. like i didn't sleep well that night because Murdoch Mysteries Is A Show. in a vacuum the whole marriage thing was an interesting way for the plot to go, jack bringing up how watts's profession clashed with so many other parts of his life was really good and i fucking love it, but hardly of it was built up to or worth it and before during and afterwards it never got the attention, screentime, etc, it deserved. dear god. and then they got back together but then next season jack's kind of a jerk now? much of it is warranted because of the awful things hes been through but "some things are worth the risk" had been such a staple line for him and their relationship and it was just. not romantic anymore. and importantly watts wasn't happy anymore. and it was just such a weird direction for the writers to take the ship.

also there was the funnies with the well lit kisses lmao and then milo strange happened?????? god i love milo i think theyre very funky and lovely and the weirdest character the show's made technical-wise because he kinda doesn't need to exist and the fact that he does ends up as just an insult to watts's story, milo the character, and his actor. like. ok. we have an issue: wonderbread barbie prince ass white boy jack walker being boring and now being too afraid to be out with watts. how does the show seem to try to fix it? flamboyant polyamorous black poet named milo strange who's as out and proud as you can be in edwardian toronto without getting arrested or killed. he's devastatingly lovable because of his whimsy and opinions and how easily they make watts smile and even laugh. not the most characterization but somehow more remarkable than jack ever was, at least before ministry of virtue. he and watts were very nice together and though i don't ship it much anymore because the show hates me i still have an ongoing fic with them but thats mostly just because i'm slow and forgetful.

anyways. then we get into the really bad shit. like. um. jack's wife dies. and this shit sent me off the edge like. this show is so bad? fridging the wife is like one of the first things people tell you not to do when they teach you how to Not Write Like A Misogynist/An Idiot In General? dude??? watts and jack fight about it and its devastating but you kinda knew the relationship was going there after all this. and then jack kidnaps the baby and escapes to greenwich and i was happy because the writers committed a misogyny but at the very very very least jack walker is gone and i am free from this stupid hatecrimes plotline.

right????

right???????

BUT NOOOOOOO like now we get into how watts himself was at his worst in season 15. like daniel maslany's acting is always so good but his writing. was bad. at the beginning he was not the best at communicating, letting his problems (the love triangle) be solved for him instead without any effort from him--like. this point has been hammered into the ground recently but love triangles if done well could symbolize for different values different choices that one can make right? like the famous one is the hunger games agressive gale vs softer peeta but like even the george-nina-louise triangle was a better example, like george made an active choice to go back to nina because despite louise being a more proper partner with similar values in wanting to settle down some day george chose nina's loyalty and kindness. but with watts? idk hes just really confused and i know watts has the personal emotional skills of a potato but narratively it sucks. because he doesnt make a decision. the decision is made for him when jack's wife is killed by her ex. what was the point? why couldn't they have made him at least a bit more active in all of it?

ohoho but it gets worse. because the plotline's not even done yet we still have half a season. watts spends time with milo and they're very sweet but watts comes to the realization that milo is polyamorous. like. milo has talked about this before. they make it pretty clear. and maybe it's my own brainworms, believing watts would have been more open or at least more understanding to it because of his open nature, but watts gets frustrated, he tries to convince him to change, he calls milo greedy. like hey man that may not be your thing but thats so uncalled for. and is that not out of character? watts, who has always been so sympathetic and understanding, especially for those who are different? even under all the duress. i dont know. it might be more reasonable in other interpretations. the worst part is that he never properly apologizes. but we'll get to that.

and they continue to stay together in some sort of limbo until the end of the season and watts gets shot. and watts goes through this shit every tuesday but that mustve been a lot for milo to go through in a minute. and watts gets back up like nothing happens and milo later expresses that he's willing to change his lifestyle, willing to become monogamous for watts. thats. thats not a light statement. but fucking guess what watts receives a letter from jack???? and i guess theres a lot of apologizing and sappy stuff in the letter but we never see or hear the contents so all we have to process for now is that watts once again is letting his problems being solved for him? like as a character it sucks that it takes all these conveniences to switch him around to choose and narratively all these conveniences are bad in the first place. ugh. he tells milo to not change who he is and embarks for new york. and we. we never see milo again. and i am going to set something on fire.

and the thing is after the season premiere's homophobia of the season watts's conclusion is really good, like ive talked about it before him quitting the force and leaving to find himself was such a satisfying decision after all his moral and emotional turmoil! and i'm hopeful that jack is not coming back. but.

milo was done. so dirty. because we're back at the point about watts's arc. because regardless of the way you see it it's shitty. if jack was always his first choice and milo was only a rebound he didn't care as much for, not only is that just. bad taste. but its also shitty to milo, watts seeming to be so keen on being together but only on his terms then ditching at the first chance of being back with his old boytoy; not only is it a shitty thing for watts to do but in writing a character it's stupid. and if watts actually did care for milo and genuinely want to be with him, only to go back is even more confusing and again begs the question of the point of it all. why was milo introduced? why did you get us invested in a relationship that went nowhere and can be cut? watts and jack couldve still split, all homophobia and misogyny and kidnapping intact, and watts could have still come to his conclusion that he needed to be on his own, but instead of the polyam hate we couldve just had him wandering off on his own for half a season instead, and when he received the letter and went back to jack he couldve realized that hey. i was actually feeling good by myself, like i was going somewhere by myself. or something. i don't know. i love where watts's character is at currently but i hate how he got there.

and it's utterly devastating because milo was a lovable character! they were so fun! but he was doomed from the start and it's fucking awful. it never amounted to anything. his own little arc wasnt even allowed to finish properly, while jack's technically was? we never get a conclusion to milo strange but we know that jack's still doing ok with the baby in greenwich after brackenreid ended homophobia there ig /j

anyways. in conclusion i dont ship either anymore but at least i still like millewellyn because i resent jackwatts for what it represents

#cryign #anon. why did you do this to me #murdoch mysteries #sigh. guess im choosing violence by putting it in the tag #but its more for being able to find it later #season 15 had some really good episodes but the overarching shit man......#anyways send more asks about my fandom opinions. now that ive typed this out i'll never have to do it again

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years

Text

Set Yourself On Fire

Word Count: ~1550

Warnings: Depression and suicidal thoughts. No, seriously, this is not a happy fic. It centers on Sam and his mental state between seasons three and four, so. Yeah. Demon blood, sad Sam, self-loathing, etc. Some mentions of Sam x Ruby, but the pairing is not the point.

A/N: For @idreamofplaid‘s “Thanks For The Memories” Challenge. My episode was “I Know What You Did Last Summer.”

I snagged bits from a drabble I wrote called “Might As Well,” which was about this same time in Sam’s life, and worked them into this.

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 and @fookinghelljensensthighs for read-throughs, and to @stunudo, @thoughtslikeaminefield, and @lastactiontricia, who helped me work through the fine points of the psychology that was going on here.

Title from the Stars song Your Ex-Lover Is Dead: “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.”

The whiskey stings when Sam splashes it over the cut on his arm. It’s a good kind of pain, blindingly sharp and clean, and for a moment it takes his mind off the slimy ache in his chest and the filthy squirming guilt in his gut.

Dean’s looking at him again, searching and suspicious.

“Why do you trust her so much?” he asks, and Sam doesn’t want to meet his eyes.

“I told you.”

“You got to do better than that. Hey, I’m not trying to pick a fight here. I mean, I really want to understand. But I need to know more. I mean, I deserve to know more.”

He does. Dean deserves that and so much better.

Sam tilts the bottle again, watching the booze wash away the blood as it burns him clean, and he takes a sip, as if that’ll do the same thing to the ugly wound in his chest. There isn’t enough whiskey in the world to sanitize his insides.

He knows he can’t tell the whole truth, but Dean deserves to know more. The question is, where does he start?

He could start with the moment the dirt closed over the grave. Sam, Bobby had said, so quietly. Sam, don’t. And it was funny, how much Sam had always wanted that; he always wanted a father figure who would ask him to stay. I can’t, he told Bobby, and he lurched away, staggered to the car, started driving.

He can’t tell Dean about the days that followed, because he doesn’t remember much of them. Two, three, maybe four days slipped away while he hid in a shitty motel, drinking, and the memories that remain are disjointed flashes in his mind: the ugly floral duvet under his cheek as he collapsed face-first into the bed, the cold white bathroom tiles and the bruises they left on his knees, a ceiling fan distorted through salt-swollen eyes as he watched it spinning lazily overhead, the taste of bile, the blood on his knuckles, the broken shard of mirror that he picked up and turned over in his hands for longer than he’ll ever admit.

No. He can’t start there.

“She saved my life,” he says hoarsely, and Dean waits while Sam tries to find the words.

He still hears John, sometimes: Why are you crying? Be strong. Be brave. Get over yourself. Other people got it a lot worse, y’know. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

He’s gotten better at ignoring John’s voice, over the years, but it’s harder to ignore his memories of Dean. Dean blinking back tears, forcing a smile. It’s going to be okay, Sammy. I’m fine, Sammy, don’t worry about me. He’s always wanted to be like his big brother, and his big brother wouldn’t let himself wallow the way Sam had. His big brother would’ve found a way to fight back.

The crossroads demon had been his only real hope.

Just take me. It’s a fair trade.

The worst part was, that no didn’t really surprise him. Of course his life wasn’t worth the same as Dean’s. Of course it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough, to save his brother the way Dean had saved him.

Sam wasn’t sure who he was without Dean, without a mission, without anything to hold onto.

He’d gotten in the car and started driving. He thought about heading West, out to the cliffs and curves of Highway One; the guardrail was so flimsy, and the Pacific would be steely-grey and welcoming. He thought about heading East, all the way to Maine; the shoreline was rocky and rough, and the crabs would find his body. He could go to Florida, drive into a swamp, let the muck swallow him slowly. He could go to the Dakotas, drive out into the desert, park there and wait, and the vultures would descend eventually. He wondered if anyone would notice that he was gone.

He can’t tell Dean that.

So he doesn’t tell Dean about the directionless days. He starts with the day Ruby found him.

He doesn’t tell Dean about the relief he felt, when he thought Ruby was going to kill him. He doesn’t tell Dean about the cold crush of disappointment in his chest when she stabbed the demon instead.

He tells Dean about her new body, “100% socially conscious.” He tells Dean about the plan to find Lilith: “I wanted to go right away.”

Sam had asked, What do you want from me?

A little patience. And sobriety.

Sobriety made it harder to sleep, and insomnia made it even harder to remember what was real. He didn’t feel real. He felt like a faded, dull husk of a person, a sunbleached copy of a photograph instead of a breathing human with a heartbeat. Ruby told him to use his strength, but he didn’t have anything left.

Sam didn’t much care if he died, and some days he wasn’t even sure he was still alive.

He can’t tell Dean that.

He sees the way Dean looks at him sometimes. He sees the exhaustion in Dean’s eyes, the worry flickering behind that, and Sam doesn’t want to add to the weight on his big brother’s shoulders.

Ruby said, Just give it time, Sam. It'll get better. I'm not talking about pulling demons. I know losing Dean was…

I don't want to talk about it.

The anger tasted ashy in his mouth. It burned, but in a purifying way, like a forest fire clearing the land for new growth. The anger helped him focus. He balled his hands into fists, imagined punching her, imagined that pretty face swollen and bleeding.

He doesn’t tell Dean about that.

You know what? Where do you get off slapping me with that greeting-card, time-heals crap? What the hell do you know? I used to be human. And I still remember what it feels like to lose someone. I'm sorry.

He almost did punch her, at that.

When she kissed him, it was Dean’s voice in the back of his head saying, this is wrong. He shoved her away.

“I knew it was wrong,” Sam confesses, and he can’t meet Dean’s eyes. “But…”

He didn’t care, in the moment. It was his brother’s opinion that had always mattered; he always wanted to make Dean proud. But Dean was dead, and Sam had been drifting for so long, and Ruby’s skin was warm and soft and real under his hands.

It was more like a battle than a kiss. It was teeth and claws, ripping each other apart, but every bite and every scratch felt like a reminder that Sam was still alive.

“Sam?” Dean snaps. “Too much information.” And there it is, there’s the disgust Sam knew was coming. Dean’s lip curls and Sam feels like a child again, clumsy and stupid next to his strong, steady anchor of a big brother.

The half-truth sits uncomfortably in his throat, and Sam has to work to get it past his lips: “I’m coming clean.”

There’s something monstrous inside him, something warped and wrong. There’s always been something wrong with him.

He thinks of the vial in his pocket, the burst of copper on his tongue like a mushroom cloud, the silent dare in Ruby’s big dark eyes and the way she sighs when he slices her open. It burns a little hotter every time he drinks, and he must be charred and black inside by now.

He hasn’t felt clean for a long time.

That’s the thing about fire, though; it cleanses, purifies, and maybe he’ll burn up hot enough to take Lilith with him someday. Self-immolation seems inevitable, at this point. His life doesn’t mean much, but maybe his death will.

“Pretty soon after that,” Sam says, “I put together some signs. Omens. Lilith was in town, and I wanted to strike her first.” Ruby had looked so goddamn concerned, when she realized, and Sam had hated her for it. You don’t want to survive this. This isn't what Dean would've wanted. This isn't what he died for.

“She came after me,” Sam says. “She saved me.”

He hesitates.

He doesn’t tell Dean about the blood.

Sam remembers the night after that failed attack. He remembers watching Ruby cut herself for the first time: his stomach roiling and his skin crawling, the blood welling up and beading into shiny pearls of red. He imagined it sliding down his throat and staining his guts that same dark crimson.

He doesn’t tell Dean about the way it sizzled on his lips, crackled and sparked inside him, lit him up in a whole new way. He doesn’t tell Dean about the next demon, the way the black oily smoke poured out all at once, faster than he’d ever seen it leave a human before, and the way his veins sang with the power.

He doesn’t tell Dean about the too-hot shower afterward, when the fizz was long gone and he scrubbed himself raw trying to get rid of the itch that it left behind.

He didn’t like the way he felt with Ruby, but at least he felt something again.

“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here,” he tells Dean quietly.

He doesn’t ask, Do you regret dying for me? Was I worth it?

He’s not sure he could live with the answer.

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#plaid and the memories #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural fic

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