Step On It!

Heya, could you write one for Tanjirou where the reader gets hurt on a mission and he feels bad about letting it happen as they were protecting Nezuko and he has feelings for her?

Thanks. I love your writing and take your time x

Okay I LOVE THIS

Tanjiro realizing his feelings for reader after she risks her life to protect Nezuko

Pairing: Tanjiro x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Synopsis: Despite being well-composed and never deciding without thinking twice, you find yourself recklessly risking your life in order to protect Nezuko from getting hurt by Daki. Little do you know what an impact your second impulsive choice will have...

Warnings: severe injury, near death experience, fluff over fluff with Tanjiro with probably the cutest ending I've ever written, not proofread, I'll use one collage and one stand-alone AI pic so if this triggers you, I suggest not to read or look at them 🤍

You never considered yourself impulsive. No, you never acted out of a feeling, never operated without thinking twice. Always kept your composure, a cool head. Maybe this is the reason for you still being alive, the reason why you are able to call yourself a quite skilled demon slayer on the side of your friends.

“You’ll come with me. I need you to look out for my wives.”

It was clear right from the start that this wouldn’t be an easy mission. All of Tengen’s wives enjoyed education when it comes to fighting skills. As a former shinobi, he made sure they were able to defend themselves. If he lost contact to them, it was clear something bigger is behind it. Something way bigger than anything you witnessed until that day.

“I can’t allow you to take (y/n) with you like that. I will join!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouted from behind with his oh so confident voice.

You will never forget the way he smiled at you back then, how much he cared for your well-being each and everyday since you arrived in the red-light district.

“I would never allow a demon to hurt one of my friends!”

Friends. Not quite the word you’d like to use for him. Since you first met each other when he saved you during the final selection, you always kept an eye open for the boy with the special kimono.

And his sister.

Apart from many people who dislike her, you loved Nezuko since the first day you laid eyes on her. Slowly but surely, it became your mission as well to save her, to free her from the curse of being a demon.

“I guess I’ll never be able to thank you enough for your support.”

You didn’t allow yourself to look at him, fully aware of that you’d get lost in his tender orbs again if you do. No, instead your eyes roamed about the glittering city to your feet, drifting over the facial expressions of the people underneath you.

“We’re friends, right? This is what friends do”, you murmured into the night.

Oh, you didn’t believe yourself a single word. What a filthy little lie to call Tanjiro a friend when all you are able to think about is his smell, when his voice is everything that lingers through your mind. Are friends supposed to think about one another constantly, to ponder about how their lips might feel pressed against each other? You promised yourself to never find out. After all, revealing your true feelings might scare him away forever. And losing Tanjiro all at once is definitely far worse than calling yourself his friend. After all, this would be impulsive with a not foreseeable outcome.

But even after you swore you’d never act out of a feeling, you find yourself sprinting into certain death.

It all happened faster than you expected. Inosuke managed to find Tengen’s wives and therefore the demon.

The upper moon six, to be exact.

The devilish who injured not only your friends, but Tanjiro as well. And now, she’s about to injure Nezuko as well.

Apart from your usual composed self, you find yourself dashing forward while grabbing the handle of your katana tightly. This is ridiculous, you don’t stand a chance against a demon like hair. Nezuko is a demon herself, she’d probably recover from her injuries.

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes fixated on both of them. It doesn’t matter right now. All you are able to think about is helping your friend.

“Get your filthy hands away from her”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

A well-placed hit. Your knee hits the ground roughly. Then everything around you is discoloured red.

Like in slow motion, you watch your own body sink onto the ground lifelessly. Your lungs feel like collapsing any given minute while you gasp for air like a fish on land. Blood takes your sight, drips down onto the already soaked floor while all you can do is watch in sheer horror as that hell of a demon grins at you.

“You did well until now. Dumb girl, why would you even think about defending a demon? Look how weak you are.”

The urge to cough becomes unbearable. Over and over, you spit out your own blood until your ribs feel like breaking. Did she hit you? Are you severely injured? Apart from your aching lungs, your body feels completely numb, almost lifeless. Like in slow motion, you watch as she walks towards you, the upper moon six emblem sparkling dreadfully in her eyes.

Is this your end?

What a senseless way to die when Nezuko is a demon. After all, even an upper moon wouldn’t be able to kill another demon without the right blade to do so. You never considered yourself so impulsive, so reckless.

Your eyes dart towards Tanjiro’s beloved sister who puts up a desperate fight against all the debris that buried her. Not everything needs to make sense.

It doesn’t make sense you decided to spare her life in the first place. It doesn’t make sense that you fell for her brother, that you allowed yourself feelings deeper than sympathy in a world full of cruelness and death. It doesn’t make sense that you decided to follow the sound hashira only to rescue his wives, that you actually considered going with him on your own.

All of that because you are so madly in love with Tanjiro. All of that because you view Nezuko as your own sister and could never allow another person to hurt her.

“What an ugly girl you are with your face twisted like that. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

You can hear your flesh bursting underneath another merciless hit of her belt, feel the throbbing pain that starts radiating through your bones. You will die right here and now, without any doubt. And you will die without seeing his face again, without telling him a single word about your true feelings.

“Don’t worry (y/n), I’m sure we’ll be fine! And as soon as we’re back, I’ll invite you to a bowl of ramen!”

A bowl of ramen?

Like in trance, you press your hand onto your leg, feel your busted flesh all too clearly, your very own blood slipping through your fingers.

Just like the love of your life.

“You need to get up.”

A distant voice in the back of your brain, muted by the constant ringing that takes over your ears.

“(y/n), can you hear me? You need to get up.”

Is Tanjiro still with Tengen-sama? They will manage to defeat those demons, you just know it. With the help of Inosuke, Zenitsu and Tengen-sama, Tanjiro will be alright. Who knows, maybe he’ll be a hashira in a week from now, maybe he’ll defeat Muzan Kibutsuji. Oh, what you’d give to hear that boy’s voice one last time, to witness his beaming smile again.

“She’s basically dead, idiot. Get lost so I can finish her.”

Are those hands lifting you off the ground or is your soul evaporating from your body?

“Please stay with me, (y/n). You need to keep on fighting.”

You allow your eyes for the briefest second. When you open them again, you barely miss how Nezuko catapults the upper moon six into a nearby building with full force. No, why would she risk to get hurt, what if that woman hurts her? It seems like you’re moving away from the scene and you’re unable to do anything apart from stretching out your shaky hand.

“No…I can’t…leave….”, you breathe out.

“Why did you risk your life like that? (y/n) you…you could be dead right now.”

That voice, it isn’t inside your head. No, someone is talking to you with an oh too familiar voice in a tone you know so well.

“Tanjiro.”

“I’m here, (y/n). And I promise everything will be alright? I just...don’t do something like that ever again, not even for Nezuko.”

Even though the sheer movement feels like breaking your own neck, you lift up your head enough to make sure this isn’t just a dream.

But his eyes are already set on you, filled with nothing but worry and threat while he carries you over the battlefield.

For a moment, time stands still. Just you and Tanjiro. No battlefield, no injuries, no demons. Just peace, love and Tanjiro.

Love.

“I love you”, you mutter so muted that he almost fails to understand.

You can feel his heartbeat picking up next to your throbbing head, watch how his eyes widen. Oh, how lovely they look in that red light, how easy it is to get lost in their gleam. What a waste of time it was to keep your feelings to yourself when all you were able to do was thinking about him. How lucky you are to feel your body pressed against his one last time.

One last time…

“I…so…tired…”

Desperately, you fight against the urge to close your eyes. You need to take this sight in for a little longer, need to stay awake at least for another minute. But your vision slowly but surely starts to get darker and darker until you can’t see him anymore.

“(y/n), don’t give up on me, not when I didn’t told you that-“

Nothingness.

-a week later-

“You should really start focus on getting back on your feet yourself, you know? It won’t help her if you don’t get better too”, the Kakushi next to him speaks out.

Since the moment he opened his eyes and realized that you aren’t awake, Tanjiro didn’t allow himself to leave your side. The last time he did that was at the entertainment district. The last time he did that you almost lost your precious life over defending his sister.

“I will stay just a little longer”, he mumbles lost in thoughts.

You always loved Nezuko dearly despite being a demon. Even though your logical thinking and composed acting, you accepted her as the human she was before and supported him in finding a cure for his sister. Still…

He runs his fingers through his hair roughly, frustration almost taking over him. Tanjiro never expected you to almost sacrifice your precious life for his sister. Not when she’s fighting against a demon, not when two upper moons are your opponents. No one would have doubted you, would have judged you for staying in safety. Nezuko would have never allowed you to interfere if she could, just like him.

“I should have arrived sooner. I should have been right by her side all the time. Maybe none of this would have happened if I kept an eye on her like I promised…”

“Don’t be a fool, she would have never allowed you to stay by her side knowing that it might cost the success of the mission. Still, I didn’t expect someone like her to act so reckless. Who’s your sister doing?”, the man opposite of Tanjiro replies.

“She’s been crying the whole time.”

“Did she finally wake up?”, Inosuke suddenly blurts out while entering the room on his own.

“She’s still unconscious”, Tanjiro explains briefly.

“Did you put that horrible bandage around her head? Before you came here, it looked alright”, the Kakushi interferes dryly.

“With the power of master Inosuke, (y/n) will be back on her feet in no time!”

“H…Hello?”

When your eyes flutter open, you get greeted by 3 pairs of excited eyes in an instant, your clouded mind still unable to process that you’re awake.

“Where am I?”, you croak with your throat feeling like sandpaper.

“I will call Shinobu-sama right away”, the Kakushi announces and gets up with a swift motion.

“You’re at the butterfly estate, dumbass”, Inosuke barks at you.

“(y/n)….I was so worried about you!”

Before you’re able to react any further, you find yourself emerged by green and black fabric, surrounded by a scent you know so well by now.

“Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Over and over, you whimper his name like a prayer in order to convince yourself that this is real. You didn’t die. You are still alive. And right now, none other than Tanjiro Kamado holds you in his arms as tenderly as you always imagined. Is it a dream, maybe? A sweet hallucination to get you through the immense pain?

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. All of this, only to stand up for my sister. Words can’t express how worried I was. How is it possible that this made me realize how much I-“

“You’re finally awake, how relieving. Would you mind moving to the side so that I’m able to examine (y/n), Tanjiro-san?”

That voice as sweet as honey belongs to Shinobu Kocho, without any doubt.

“S-Sure.”

“You really fought well, (y/n). Surviving that long with such severe injuries took its toll on your body, though. All of this because you wanted to protect Tanjiro’s sister?”

Her skilled hands begin roaming around your skin while you feel her gaze fixated on you. But you cannot look at Shinobu-san right now. No, your eyes are locked with those of Tanjiro next to you.

“They both mean the world to me”, you murmur.

He lets out his breath visibly while taking a step towards you. What is that glimmer in his eyes? Sorrow, dread?

Or maybe affection?

“How unusual for you to act this reckless. But maybe this is what love makes us do, right? I will leave you two alone for now. How about you’re taking a look outside? The sunset looks lovely today. But please use a wheelchair since your leg is still shattered.”

With a last bright smile, the insect pillar is gone in the wind again, leaving you alone with Tanjiro in a suddenly so tensed room.

“What do you think?  Do you want to watch the sunset with me?”, Tanjiro questions with low voice.

“I would love to.”

As careful as ever, he lifts you off the bed and places you into the wheelchair before gently guiding you outside.

Your eyes get greeted by the prettiest red you’ve ever seen covering the whole sky. Like a painting, the beautiful scenery lays itself in front of your eyes. Shinobu-san’s flowers painted in the colors of the sky, the fluffy clouds that look so comfortable from afar.

But what mesmerizes you way more than that is the striking sight next to you, the boy you loved in silence since you first saw him. With his face lit by the downgoing sun and the ever so slight blush that creeps up his face while looking at you, you can’t help but get lost.

“Maybe I needed this”, he speaks out.

You blink a few times, still tired mind trying to process the meaning of his words.

“What?”

There is it. His usual beaming smile, the optimistic glimmer inside his gorgeous orbs. Careful not to hurt you he grabs your hand and gently strokes it while kneeling down next to you. Is this really happening? Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, reminds you urgently that you are definitely still alive. Why would Tanjiro Kamado get onto his knees for you?

“You.”

An answer so simple and yet so intimate that you can’t help but blush as well. Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer and closer until his face is only inches away from yours.

“I love you, (y/n). I guess I was too dumb to realize it until I saw you injured like that because you protected my sister. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The words leave your mouth just in time before he places his soft lips onto yours, making all your dreams come true with one innocent kiss.

You always acted well-thought and composed. But oh, what a plot twist it was to follow your heart twice in a row.

-bonus-

“Did…Shinobu-san put this around my head?”, you question while staring blankly at your messy hair and the wild bandadge around your head.

“The insect girl? Of course it was me! You wouldn’t even be awake if it wasn’t for me! But don’t worry, you can worship me later”, Inosuke replies while stretching out his chest in full proud.

“You look…”

“Well…”

“I mean…”

None of the three girls dare to raise their voices at him whereas you stare yourself up and down. Of course, it was Inosuke. Shinobu-san would never stitch you up like that.

“Do you want…Kanao to fix this?”, one of them finally suggests quietly.

“Yeah….I guess that would be pretty nice.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu

satoru "you can take it, i'll make it fit" gojo turns into satoru "i can't take it, it's too much, you're gonna fuckin' break me baby" gojo when you're the one pegging him

life's too short - Viktor x gn!Reader Smut

Notes: I think this is so much softer and more emotional than any of us were expecting 😳 the anon specifically mentioned a GN!Reader for this, so I kept it to oral so as not to describe the reader physically, I hope thats okay! I read that Viktor moved to the Academy at 19, and this is set around Season 1 act 2/3, making him and the reader around 30-1 for this fic. Warnings/Rating: MDNI Smut, oral (male receiving), making out, angst, whiney/subby Viktor, swearing, reader is a prostitute | 18+ for smut Wordcount: 3.2k Synopsis/Request: Hii just a lil request for Jayce or Viktor (your choice) wanting to try something new and visiting a brothel in Zaun for the first time and meeting an old face 🫣 gn reader!!

Masterlist | Dialogue Prompt list

He usually prides himself on managing his stress levels fairly well. Or at least managing to hide his stress well enough that he didn’t have people asking him if he needed a break, or pestering him about taking it easy. 

This month in particular, however, had been too much, even by his standards. 

Between Jayce spending less time in the lab and doctors pestering him every few days about treatment plans, he was close to breaking point and nothing had been able to release it. Not even his well-practised hand had been able to work the tension from his body sufficiently. 

It was true that it had been a painfully long time since he had managed to get his dick wet. Between his illness and the demands of Hextech, there wasn’t exactly time to meet anyone, and his worsening leg meant he wasn’t as fond of stumbling home with someone from a bar as he had been when he was just a 20-something student at the academy. 

He was, to put it simply, pent up. And admitting it to himself had only led him to one conclusion. He needed to get laid. And there was only one place to do that quickly with no questions asked. 

He ducked into the establishment quietly, the thrum of nerves bubbling in his chest as he stepped awkwardly down the corridor, lavisous sounds echoing from rooms beside him as he raised his knuckles to knock on the office door and swallowing thickly when it opened. 

The old Yordle that opened it looked him up and down quickly, a well-practised smile etched on her worn face. “What will it be, sugar?” she drawled, leaning against the door frame and eyeing up his suit. He had changed from his uniform, but all his clothes now screamed Piltie, even when he tried to dress subdued. Whatever he wore, they still all felt so alien to him. 

“Ehm, a-anyone,” he eked out nervously, more unsure of himself now than he had been in years.  

She huffed a soft laugh, taking a drag of her cigarette, “You’re down home now, sweetheart, no need to look so scared,” she drawled, setting his hairs on end as she saw right through him. She nodded down the corridor, “room six. I know what you need. Pay on your way out.” 

He nodded a polite thank you before he made down the corridor again, eyes flicking anxiously from room to room until he found six, stepping through the curtain and relieving a long breath as he sat back on the old, worn velvet couch. His gaze flicked around the room as he waited, unable to settle on any one specific thing as nerves bubbled in his chest, wondering if this is really what would fix the tension between his temples. 

His breath hitched in his throat when the curtain pulled to the side, his jaw falling slack and mouth drying when his eyes fell on your face. He could feel the blood drain from his cheeks, his heart hammering behind his ribs so roughly he was worried that it would fracture them. 

“Viktor?” Your voice was more of a confused gasp than anything else. He shuffled on the work velvet seat to sit more upright, fingers gripping his cane so tightly he was surprised it didn’t break. He simply gawped at you for a moment, his brain rendered near empty upon seeing you for the first time since he left for the Academy. Save for one thought — fuck. 

He swallowed thickly, watching you tighten your robe around you, registering the panic in your movements and struggling to find words. “Wha-what are you doing here?” Your words came out strained. 

He could almost feel the embarrassment rolling off you in waves and his heart clenched, a sudden guilt weighing heavily in his stomach at what had become of the two of you. What he had risen to and left you to bear. 

“What are you doing here?” He returned your question, his throat tight. In all his times imagining seeing you again, not once did he imagine this. 

You looked anywhere but him for a moment, eyes fixing on where his hands rested on his cane to avoid his hazel eyes. “Not all of us get fancy academy jobs,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but he saw how your fingers clenched at the fabric of your robe.

The fabric covered little more than the limits of your torso, riding high on your thighs so as to leave once a little to the imagination. The neckline cut deeply, too, or would do when you didn’t have it pulled firmly around yourself, to show off the deep v of your chest down to your sternum. 

He tore his eyes away, flicking back to your own as you finally met his gaze, skin flushing a deep red in the shame of being caught staring. 

He started to press his weight into his cane, moving to stand, “this was a mistake, I should go.” He shook his head to try and clear them of his guilty thoughts, only for you to stop him, your hand pushing against his shoulder as he moved to step past you. 

You looked at him, doe eyed, your lips slightly parted as you looked him up and down subtly. At this proximity, he could feel your breath hitch slightly as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. 

“You look good, Viktor.” 

His name dropping from your lips had always made him weak, but now it was damn near melting him. There was still a sickening churning in his stomach, however. 

“Please, don’t run your routine on me. Not you.” He rasped, although he was finding it difficult to look away. Your grasp on his shoulder was weak – he could easily push past you and continue out if he wanted to. Yet his feet stayed rooted firmly to the ground. 

“I’m not,” you faltered, hurt returning to your eyes. “I– I just didn’t expect to see you again. Let alone here. It’s been so long.” 

He huffed a sad laugh, “eleven years and eight months, to be precise.” He felt something in his sternum flutter when you chuckled – a genuine warm sound that resounded in his head. 

You both settled into silence that skirted around being comfortable as you just looked at each other, as if you were both silently mapping each other's features to compare them to what you had memorized all those years ago. 

“You can just stay and chat, you know,” you offered quietly, your voice unsure again as you gestured loosely to the couch. “We don’t all just…” you trailed off and he saw your throat bob with an awkward swallow. 

He nodded softly, “of course,” watching you sit across the couch with one arm folded on the back, head resting lightly on your fist before he slid tentatively beside you, easing back into the cushions, unable to tear his gaze away. 

“How’s life in the big city?” You asked, your eyes softening. 

His lips ticked up into a wistful smile, “almost everything we ever imagined.” 

“Almost?” You teased softly, brow raising. 

He hesitated for a moment, wetting his lips as he tried to work out the best way of saying it was nothing without you there to share it with him without scaring you off. 

He remembered the last time he saw you vividly. How you had helped him drag his only suitcase into the cable car, letting you babble on and on about him coming to visit because he knew if you stopped talking you would have cried. And he hated seeing you cry. 

His skin still tingled whenever he thought of the night before, how you had both fallen into your cramped bed together, waking up limbs tangled and wearing nothing but your sheets. 

He remembered how he had promised to come back, only to never find the courage. It hurt him too much to see what he had left you to, his guilt eating away at him for years as he slept in golden gilded apartments and wore well fitting clothes that didn’t have holes in them. Because he didn’t deserve them, and he was sure as hell you’d only grow resentful of them. And rightly so. How him not coming back was better for both of you, letting you move on.

You had both been so young, after all. 

“All that time topside finally worn out your brain?” You teased, your hand coming to rest on his softly, flinching him out of his thoughts. The touch only made it harder for him to focus, his head swimming. 

He finally let out a breathy chuckle, “no, sorry.” He took another deep inhale, “it’s very…” he trailed off, trying to find the right word. He didn’t miss how your eyes flicked over his well-fitting suit. 

“Different?” You filled in for him, sounding quieter and his heart clenched. 

He shuffled awkwardly, moving his hand from under yours. “Yes, different.” He paused for a moment more, building the courage to look at you again. “How have you been?” 

Your lips pressed into a tight, practised smile. “I’m okay. Better than a lot of the others.” Despite your tight tone you sounded genuine. “I’m well looked after here, I always have a meal on the table – It’s not too bad really. Babette looks out for us all.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit,” he hated how pathetic his voice sounded, choking out awkwardly. 

Your small shrug hurt. “It’s okay, like you say, it’s busy up there.” Your smile didn’t reach your eyes. 

“That’s no excuse,” he rushed to chastise himself. “I never forgot about you, you know that, don’t you?” 

A look of genuine shock crossed your features momentarily, but you hid it well. “I know,” it was a lie. He could tell. 

He reached out gently again, his hand clasping yours and encouraging you to look at him. He prayed you couldn’t feel the way his skin clammed up as his heart raced, desperate to have your eyes on him again. “I mean it. I thought about you every day – to the point of distraction,” his voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Despite it all, I never stopped loving you.”

His panic set in as he watched you process his words, sitting silently and pulling in a breath that racked your chest. “After all this time?” 

His eyes flicked down to your lips fleetingly, forcing down the lump in his throat, “Of course. I think a part of me knew if I came back I wouldn’t be able to leave you again. It was hard enough the first time, and I don’t think I want to do it again–” 

He was cut off by your lips pressing to his, his mind immediately going blank as you pushed yourself onto his lap. His hands immediately flew to your hips to steady you against him, groaning as you squeezed your thighs around him gently, breathing in your scent as it washed over him in nostalgic waves. 

Your lips rolled over his messily, your brow lightly furrowed as you cupped his sallow cheeks in your soft hands, kissing him with all the desperation you could muster. It was rushed and unpractised as you bit his lower lip gently, dragging a gasp from his lungs, your tongue instantly taking advantage of it to roll your tongue over his tantalizingly. In an instant, he was 19 again, with you beneath him in your bed. 

You pulled away slightly for breath, dragging your lips down his neck as his head tilted back to allow you, your hand instinctively weaving itself into his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands were longer now but you didn't seem to mind as you tangled it around your fingers and tugged gently, eliciting a shockingly pathetic whine from his lips – one that had him flushing with embarrassment as he realised just how touch starved he had been. 

“Let me take care of you, please?” you muttered against his skin. He swallowed roughly, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your lips. 

“You don’t ha-”

“I want to,” you interrupted him. He searched your eyes for a moment, “It will be nice not having to pretend it's you for a change,” you admitted softly, eyes leaving his for a moment in shame. 

He brought his fingers up gingerly to your jaw, fingers softly lifting your eyes back up to meet his. “You’ll never have to pretend again,” he promised sincerely, lips ticking into an emotional smile as you bit your lip. 

You surged forward again, hot kisses more fervent now as you grinned against his lips, hands finding the sensitive spot against his scalp again and tugging a little more roughly, again pulling a whiney groan from his lips. 

“You haven’t changed, I see?” you teased as your lips made their way down his skin again as his fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, kissing each inch of skin as he freed it from the soft fabric. 

“Let me,” you purred softly as you batted his hands away from where they trembled against his belt buckle, your dexterous fingers making light work of it and flicking open the buttons beneath. You had let your kimono fall more loosely around you now, the deep V showing off more of your skin. His eyes trailed down shamelessly and he brought a hand up gingerly, trailing his fingers over the soft expanse of your abdomen, smirking when you shivered under his touch. You stopped him, your hand clasping his wrist tenderly, “Just wanna help you,” you pleaded softly, “at least this time, at least here.” 

He nodded shakily, your fingers drifting over his growing bulge as you slid down between his parted legs to your knees, fingers trailing down his thigh and over the mechanical brace that encased his leg. 

“Let me,” he offered uneasily, trembling fingers ghosting over yours as he struggled with the releases for a moment until they popped out of place, thankful you didn’t choose now to start your inevitable questions as he shoved it to one side and let you drag his trousers down, lifting his hips as best he could to help you and letting his cock spring free with a hiss. 

He watched as your tongue darted out to wet your lips, hands dragging themselves over the pale skin of his thighs towards where his leaking cock lay flush against his stomach, tip dark pink and flushing as it leaked precum. It was astounding the effect you still had on him. 

You leaned forward slowly, dragging your tongue up the thick vein that ran along the underside and he sighed, fingers digging into the pillows beside him as his head fell back at the slightest of touches. 

“Gonna take care of you,” you sighed, one hand wrapping slowly around the base of his cock and squeezing in a tight ring, trapping the blood for just a moment and leaving him gasping. “So hungry for touch, hm?” 

He nodded pathetically, hips bucking against your hand as you breath fanned over him. You chuckled lovingly, placing a barely-there kiss to the weeping slit. “Missed you, Viktor.” 

He didn’t have time to process a response before you sunk down on him, splitting your lips around his cock and sucking him in, bottoming out with a small gag. 

He whined at the warmth of your cheeks as they surrounded him, hollowing as you pulled off of him with a pop, working him with your hand, your saliva drooling down him and acting as lube as you pumped him, circling your wrist as you did so. 

His back arched away from the cushions as you pulled him between your lips again, twirling your tongue around the tip and flicking attentively at the slit, lapping up his salty precum loyally before sinking back down around him again, bobbing your head halfway down his cock teasingly. 

He pulled his head back up shakily, cracking his eyes open to watch you as you swallowed around him, hand and head moving in perfect unison around him, bringing him to the brink before easing off with practised ease. He was surprised he didn’t cum just from a brush of your fingers it had been so long. 

He brought his hand to your head experientially, pressing down on your scalp gently and you took the hint, sinking back down him fully until his tip nudged the back of your throat, forcing a gag that had your eyes watering. 

He whimpered as his balls clenched, “Y-you’re so good at this – take me s-so well.” Every syllable was effort as you doubled down on your movements, slurping loudly on his cock as your drool dropped down his shaft to his balls. He was well aware that his hair was plastered to his forehead at this point, sweat beading along his skin as he sunk down on the couch, struggling to support his own weight as his mind turned to jelly, every inch of his skin on fire under your touch. Even his loose, undone shirt was sticking to his torso as his bare chest heaved. 

“Ahh- nghh,” He practically cried when your spare hand came up to cup his balls, rolling them curiously between your fingers. His fingers tightened their grip on your head as he bucked up into you uncontrollably, his eyes squeezed shut again as his heels dug into the floor for leverage. His movements were pathetic against you, rutting into you like a teenager again as he grasped for you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, mixed with words in a language he knew you wouldn’t understand as the tension in his stomach built, his balls and cock twitching in your grasp. 

“Gonna–” he could barely croak out the word as the band snapped. He came in hot spurts, whining and thrashing as he released into your throat, coating your tongue with his spend as you lapped it up, pressing him deeper into your mouth as you continued to work him through his orgasm, fingers still squeezing his balls for every drop even when he was whimpering and pulling his hips away from you, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. As you slowed, letting his slowly softening cock go with a few final attentive licks, cleaning his slit of his sticky spend. 

He laid there for a moment, eyes still closed as he gasped for breath, only half aware of you moving until he felt a soft cloth on him, eyes fluttering open to see you cleaning him up diligently. He rushed to stop you, flushing with awkwardness only for you to bat him away with a soft smile, tossing the cloth to the side before helping him with his clothes again, tucking yourself back by his side as he buttoned up his shirt. 

“I want you to come with me,” he muttered softly, fingers brushing across your cheek after tightening his brace again. 

“Vik-” 

“No, no protests,” he shook his head, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I am not leaving you behind again. Life’s too short.” he ignored your worried look as he kissed you again, stopping any questions before they could form on your lips. “Get your things together. I’m doing what I should have done years ago.” 

loser!ellie who is desperately enamored with you

loser!ellie who isn't even failing any of her classes (far from it) but still books you to tutor her

loser!ellie who spends around 2 hours getting done, convincing dina to help her iron out her usually wrinkled flannel while she fights with her hair

loser!ellie who spends the entire study session making a very poor attempt at dropping hints, laughing nervously at almost everything you say and immediately zeroing in on your body the second you look away

loser!ellie who finds your instagram one day, looking through every post and story, a hand subconsciously moving south at a particularly good picture of you at the beach

loser!ellie who eventually gets close to you and finds out you're gay, the thought that she might have a chance making her all giddy and giggly when she tells dina about it later that night

loser!ellie who deep cleans her room the night before you come over, trying to find a place to hide the comics she deems most embarrassing

loser!ellie who rifles through her vinyl collection, setting the ones that are most similar to your music taste in the front where they're visible

loser!ellie who lets you pick what games you two play when you come over, making sure to go easy on you

loser!ellie who doesn't expect you to kiss her halfway through the movie you picked out earlier, gaping at you dumbfoundedly when you pull away

loser!ellie whose body is surprisingly malleable as she allows you to push her back onto the mattress, her hands hesitantly reaching for your thighs with a innocent doe-eyed look

loser!ellie who tastes like blood when you push your tongue past her lips because she's been nervously chewing at her lips and inner cheek the entire night

loser!ellie who's so unbelievably wet when you first touch her, already soaking through her minecraft boxers purely from kissing you

loser!ellie who keeps her hands glued to the oak of her headboard when you have your face between her plush thighs, not wanting to disappoint you so early on

loser!ellie who lets you coax 3 consecutive orgasms out of her before begging for just a taste of your cunt

loser!ellie who finds herself thinking back to that night during class a few days later, staring at the back of your head in front of her like it'll help her remember the pure saccharine that was the taste of you on her tongue

loser!ellie who shows up at your place not even two weeks later, pleading for round two

sorry if this is booty cheeks y'all

i was playing block blast while writing this 😭🙏

hello !! so like, i suddenly got a fever due to flu season (just when finals was over 😭) and i have this scenario in mind where mizu takes care of sick!reader/the other way around.

mizu w/ sick!reader

i imagine her to not be so good at it, only handling stitches and gash wounds whenever she gets hurt. so, when it's about fevers/other internal illnesses (+ the fact that no one probably showed her how to treat and deal with it), i think mizu goes on auto pilot and does whatever she thinks might work 😭

of course, being the kind soul that he is, ringo may offer his assistance. but mizu wants to be the one to take care of you.

[ + bonus points if mizu and reader has some sort of distance instead of having a close bond. imagine mizu grumbling how weak reader is and reader just goes, "you don't know what you're doing, do you?" ]

reader w/ sick!mizu

mizu rarely gets sick, she doesn't even remember the last time she had it. or the feeling of someone treating her while she laid down, vulnerable, somewhere hidden from view─or in bed, if she were lucky.

i think she's the type to neglect herself. saying "it'll pass" while wobbly holding her sword. this also explains why she doesn't know how to treat others, (ahem, you), as she had only sucked it up and dealt with it like another obstacle on the road.

im so sorry this is kind of long 😭 i love your works so much!!

a/n: THIS IS SO SWEEEET. and yes, mizu is 100% a girlfailure when it comes to this sort of thing

warning(s): swearing

word count:  710 words / 3,782 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: mizu x fem!sick!reader 

————————————————————————————————————————————

“could you lie down, please? for gods sake,” mizu narrowed her eyes at you, ushering you back toward the bed. she heads for a table on the other side of the room, littered with poultices. 

did she have any clue what to do with them?

hell no.

but she would try whatever she thought could work, you being sick would only hinder your progress on the quest. and no way could she have that.

and she didn’t want you to be hurting, either.

you gaze at her across the room, your face was red and puffy—hot and under the weather. you can barley see her, due to your disoriented feeling, but she knew for a fact she had no fucking clue what she was doing.

“.. mizu,” you rasp. “you don’t know what you’re doing… do you?”

mizu freezes, if only for a second. she sighs, grumbling something under her breath.

“no,” she answers blankly. “I do not.”

“then why didn’t you take ringo’s help? I’m sure he knows something,” you murmur, your eyes trained on her as she walks over to you. she settles down on the edge of the bed.

her hand gently brushed the side of your face, “I want to be the one to care for you,” she whispers. “you’re my responsibility. I brought you out here, it’s my job to care for you.”

you’re not sure your face could get anymore flushed, but it somehow does, your heart pounding in your chest as your stomach drops.

“oh,” your mouth forms a cute little “o” shape, casting your gaze downward.

she chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a quick kiss to it.

“you’re going to get yourself sick,” you protest, watching as she gathers herself back to her feet—and heads for the table again.

“I don’t get sick, (y/n).” she shoots back.

“everyone gets sick at some point, mizu. even you. doesn’t matter if you think you’re built of—“ you cough in between words, “—steel, even.”

she scoffs, “I don’t think I’m made of steel. steel is a pure, strong metal. something I am not. nowhere close to it.”

you sigh. you never liked the way she talked about herself.

“whatever you think you are, mizu.. everyone gets sick. even you.” you reply.

she decides not to respond, this time, not wanting to argue you when you don’t feel well. she listens as the door opens, revealing ringo with a bowl of soup. he smiled, and placed it down on your bedside table.

“thank you, ringo,” you rasp, returning his infectious smile.

“of course, (y/n),” he replies, glancing at mizu. “are you sure you do not need help, master? I heard—“

she cuts him off with her hand, “I’ve got it, ringo. thank you.”

he seems surprised she even thanked him; but he nods his head and slides out of the room.

she grabs a poultice from the table, and walks over to you. she sets in down in your hands, gesturing for you to drink. 

you look at her, skeptical that this is one that will even work.

“it isn’t poison,” she grumbled. “I know what poison looks like.”

you chuckle weakly, “I’m sure you do,” you gulp down the poultice, gaging a little at its bitter taste. “my fucking god.”

she laughs at your reaction, reaching over you in the bed and grabbing the bowl of soup.

“.. are you going to feed me?” you giggle, watching as she slides the noddles onto the chopsticks. for a minute, you thought she was joking. “oh. you’re serious?”

your heart flutters at the thought.

“does it look like I’m joking?” she raises an eyebrow.

you advert yourself gaze, “no.”

“than why are you asking?” she offers you the food again, waiting for you to take it. 

you lean forward, and slurp the noddles into your mouth. “not sure,” you mumble between your food.

“then eat and be quiet,” she murmured. 

you do as your told; smiling as she gently fed you. mizu was never so.. gentle. but you could see her hands shaking, she was scared she would fuck something up.

but here you were… sitting in front of her, having her feed you in your time of need.

you couldn’t help but love her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: sick!mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing 

————————————————————————————————————————————

mizu’s breathing was a bit raspy, a bit heavy as she held her sword wobbly in her hand. being sick was not something she dealt with often.

“mizu,” you narrow your eyes, “you need to sit down.”

“no.” she said firmly, her voice a bit raspy— “it’ll pass, (y/n).”

“I don’t care if “it’ll pass”. you need to sit down. now.” you commanded, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down.

her eyes widen, staring up at you. she was never so forcefully handled, everyone was always so scared of her cold demeanor. 

“.. okay,” she whispered.

“lie back in the bed—and I’ll get you some soup and some medicine. i think ringo’s almost done,” you gently gesture for her to lie down.

she does as she’s told, for once in her life. listening to other people was never her strong suit. but she didn’t feel well, and you wanted to care for her. 

being cared for wasn’t… normal, to her. she never had a caring mother. her ex-husband tried to turn her in for a bounty.. care from someone else was new.

when you returned, you came back with a bowl of soup, and some medicine. a sticky, disgusting poultice. 

“you need to take this,” you hand her the poultice. she gazed at it, disgusting in her hand. but she quickly took it, repulsed by the taste. “it’ll help, I promise.”

“.. right,” she rasped. her eyes travel to the bowl of soup, her eyes alone asking you to hand it to her.

“in a sec,” you place it on the table beside the bed, pulling at her overcoat. she almost jumped out of her skin. “relax.”

you pulled off her overcoat, taking off the layer beneath it, as well. all she was left in was her wrapped, binded chest.

“It’ll make you more comfortable,” you whisper. “eat.”

now, she was happy to do that.

she grabbed the bowl and slowly began to eat, making sure to be slow and steady—she didn’t want to be throwing up her guts later. not in front of you, at the least.

you slide into bed next to her, gently rubbing her sides with your fingers.

she leans into your touch almost instantly. god, why was she so weak to you?

“you’re going to make yourself sick,” she whispers.

“I don’t care,” you grumble back. “my only job right now, is to care for you. sound good?”

she scoffs, adverting her gaze. “.. sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: HEYYYY holiday is over, back to your regularly scheduled programming!! (I did get p!nk tickets tho guys so that’s cool <3)

I wanted to hope on board the #CursedCatAlastor wagon over on Twitter, even if I was a bit late. It's just so perfectly stupid. 😂

Do you think he’s extra childish with Megumi to make him feel as safe to be a child as Geto did for him.

choso kamo // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

xo

it's not a simple symptom

sketches

go for it, mr. ghostface!

high enough

opera house

operation: battlepass (aka the totally awesome plan to play wingman by yuuji itadori)

slow dance

guts

still learning

ugly crying

in a doll's house

blue salvia

me and my husband

what is this feeling

sweet serenity

boynextdoor!choso

ink at first sight

basking in you

red

shrike to your soft and glorious thorn

picture perfect

cafuné

a bad dream

my camboy

one for the road

cold fingers and warm lips

latte art

a scream au: ghostface! choso

My princess with a disorder🥹

Also heres the full list of maladies by popular request

★ thinking about suguru being your academic rival, the unspoken competition between you beginning on the very first day of college when the advanced calculus professor handed out a brain teaser to help everyone settle in, only for you and suguru to be the only students able to solve it. the problem?

he finished it a second before you did.

and from then on, the two of you would compare everything: average GPA score, exam grades, pop quiz results, who could make the other cum quicker — oh yeah… how could you forget to mention the part where somewhere along the way, the tension between you managed to leak from the classroom into the bedroom. oops.

so that’s how you find yourself in your current position of trying to take suguru down your throat while he simultaneously attempts to ruin your focus by flicking the tip of his annoyingly talented tongue over your swollen clit.

“aww, is someone struggling?” he purrs, violet eyes boring into the back of your head while he continues his languid licks through your embarrassingly wet folds. “y’know… this could all be over right now if you just admit that you can’t keep up with me.”

“s-shut up,” you grumble weakly, briefly pulling off of his cock to speak with a lewd string of saliva connecting your heaving lips to the thick head. “i can keep up just fine.”

“oh, really?” he drawls, tone dripping with condescension while he trails a slender finger down the curve of your spine, causing your body to arch instinctively and sink down even further onto his mouth in response. “is that why you’re giving me a blowjob so bad that i’d think it was your first time if i didn’t know any better, hm?”

instead of using your mouth to shoot back another sharp retort; you decide to put it to better use by inhaling a deep, steadying breath and lowering it down on suguru’s length once again, taking him right to the base and fighting the urge to gag as his fat tip rubs against the back of your throat.

“s-shit,” he hisses through clenched teeth, his own ministrations forgotten entirely as his hips involuntarily buck upwards into your mouth. “if you don’t stop that i’m g-gonna fuckin’ cum.”

determined to make him lose control before you do, you start to bob your head up and down on his girth as fast as you can. but just when you begin to let yourself believe that you’re guaranteed to win this round, he pulls out one last trick from up his sleeve.

he bites your clit, sharp canines grazing the sensitive bud in a way that causes your throat to clamp down on his cock and your vision to flash white for a few long moments as your climax suddenly washes over you — but he’s faring no better either, a low groan spilling from his lips as thick ropes of his cum spurt straight down your throat.

“huh. guess we can call this round a tie then,” suguru hums in a frustratingly casual manner, pushing some stray raven hairs back from his forehead and flashing you a cat-like smile as you peer at him dazedly over your shoulder. “what do you say we make it the best of out of three tonight, hm?”