tati | 29 | she/they latina-asian | gemini ☼ cancer ☾ | enfp | lover of many fandoms
hi hi i'm tati. i like the weird + spooky, but i'm definitely a bb when it comes to horror <3 i like gothic lit, paranormal romance, & erotica. here on this blog you'll see me thirsting for 2D men in ways that i will not thirst for real men irl. i like putting my daydreams into words, & hope you like them too. <3333333333
current event: gothic romance au, gemini szn headcanons
latest work: virgin!obito headcanons, vampire!yuuta headcanons, vampire!yuuta gothic romance au
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**if my work looks familiar, it's most likely because i had 108467 writing blogs & nuked them all. rip.
had a dream that i was in the 10th division and kept pestering hitsugaya for PTO and he denied it. also the 3rd division was putting on a musical & hisagi was the lead singer?? is this the bleach fandom telling me to return to writing for it lmao
Happy Birthday!! Also safe travels! (Can’t wait to read more gothic fics :))))
thanks so much!! i’m visiting family in the philippines but we’re in the countryside rn so i have some downtime to write! ny was crazy fast-paced and not conducive to that lol. i’m glad you’re looking forward to more gothic fics!
for the gemini event may i request 🫦 🥀 for our beloved choso <333
choso—
🥀 = how they flirt
Choso doesn't flirt. He stares gloomily at you until you cave and chat with him. jk. partly
No, he doesn't even know where to start. He spends most of his time watching you. He feels the same protective instinct over you that he does his brothers, but… it’s different somehow. His heart races faster when you’re around? His cheeks feel hot when he sees you applying lip gloss and picturing you testing it out on him. Someone (probably Yuuji) explains to him that he has a crush. He inquires about it, then tries to watch old school romcoms to understand how people act on these feelings. But theory is easier than practice. His attempts to flirt with you are clumsy, at best.
You’ll be hanging out, noticing he’s even quieter today, and when you ask him why, he’ll blurt out the lines he’s been practicing in his head the entire time:
“You’re—your hair smells. …Nice, I mean.”
“Thank you…?”
Yuuji is trying so hard to hold back his laughter.
“My eyes tear up every time I look at you.”
“Oh no…?”
It’s a total fail.
Truthfully he has better luck being his intense and slightly off-putting self than actually attempting to flirt. He’s bluntly unapologetic in his devotion to you.
“I would sooner rip my arm off than let someone hurt you.”
and
“Your smile is something precious that must be protected.”
are examples of his straightforward and earnest attempts to convey his feelings.
Also because he spends so much time observing you, it’s like he knows you better than you do. For instance, if you order food and your order comes back wrong, he’ll swap with you so you won’t suffer. He also seems to remember mundane details or things you tell him even better than you do.
🫦 = how they talk dirty to you (18+)
Everything is so new to Choso. Living, assimilating to the human world. Much less feelings—and love at that. Lust is an entirely new territory as well.
His dirty talk focuses mostly on sensations, since he’s also getting used to having a body.
“Ah… you’re tight. It’s like you’re sucking me in.”
“This is where you need me? You’re soaked.”
Once he gets more experience, of course, he gets braver with his words.
“Fuck… I was made for you. Please, please… I’m so close.”
“Ha…! Fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—you were just so… felt like you were milking it out of me. …I can go again, if you want.”
Lots of whimpers and grunts. Choso isn’t afraid to get vocal.
“Ngh! I’m so close, please. Please let me come inside you.”
“This is how babies are made, right? Please… let me come inside you. Let’s start a family.”
Very intense and pathetic. Also brooding and hot. King of never pulling out (and why would he when it feels so much nicer to have his orgasm wrung out from him by your pussy). It’s hard to say no to his perpetual sad boi who’s whipped for you vibes.
He goes crazy when you’re on top, cowgirl style, controlling the pace. I’m talking head rolled back, cheeks flushed, hair disheveled and falling out of his ponytails.
“Fuck! Fuuck.” He whimpers as you continue to ride him. “I can’t… you’re driving me crazy. I need you. I need to come so bad. Please… please… use me.”
Being without you for days drives him crazy too. Once you teach him how to use a phone and send audio messages he’ll use it to record one of his sessions.
“Ah… I’m leaking everywhere. My cock aches badly. I need to be inside you. Please come back soon.”
“I’m gonna cum. I’m trying so bad to stop but… ngh.” A series of strangled moans and whimpers, breathy whines. “Ah… I came everywhere. I made a mess of our sheets. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it…. Please come back soon.”
Choso is more likely to focus on the sensations you’re giving him, rather than talking about the effect he has on you. Partly because he’s embarrassed to. Buuut if you tell him you really really want him to talk you through it? He’s willing to try. Albeit he needs patience and guidance.
“Your pussy feels so good. I can feel it squeezing around me. Are you close? I want to finish together… and then I’ll fuck my come back into you. I-if that’s okay with you.”
HAPPY GEMINI SEASON!!! I’m curious about 👽 and 🚩 for Gojo please 👁️ 👄 👁️
of course bb!
satoru gojo—
👽 = kinks they’d try in bed (18+)
Gojo is open to trying out most kinks in the bedroom. He's a curious guy, and there’s very little you can do to actually hurt him.
Some of his favorites:
Foodplay: Gojo’s got a sweet tooth for more than just pastries; you also happen to be on the menu. He’ll trail whipped cream down your body, drizzle chocolate over your chest before licking it up, etc. If you’re not fond of the mess that comes with it, relax—he’s a very thorough lover. There’s not an inch of you that he won’t clean off with his tongue.
Blindfolds/sensory deprivation: His choice to wear blindfolds in public is not a kink per se but a way for him to relax his brain and dull his senses. He’d be down for experimenting with sensory deprivation—blindfolding him before making him guess whether it’s your hand, mouth, or pussy that’s going on his cock next. Blindfolds and headphones while you ride him and every bit of his attention is fixated on the exquisite feel of your pussy squeezing him, milking him for every drop.
Exhibitionism: Does Principal Yaga let him know another sorcerer spotted him fucking you against the floor to ceiling windows of a ritzy sky-rise building? Yes. Does he care? No. There’s obviously limits (i.e. he would hate to have one of his students walk in on him, but… in public, away from the easily prying eyes of jujutsu society and his reputation? That’s a thrill he’s willing to risk.
Praise kink: Of course he's used to praise—it's all he's heard his entire life. But somehow praise from you in that breathless needy tone does something to him.
Teasing: He’s the definition of a tease. He’ll be kind of mean with it too, fucking you so good until you’re crying, stilling his thrusts when you’re right at the edge because he thinks the faces you make are just too damn cute.
“Yeah? You like that? ‘Don’t stop, ‘Toru, I’m so so close?’ Aww, but you can hold off a little bit longer, right sweetheart? I’m not done yet. And I know your cute, greedy little pussy likes it best when we finish together, no?”
Being dominated: Gojo is the definition of a switch. Boss him around, pull his hair, call him pathetic for how horny he is, humping your thigh. It’s rare for him to lose control in the battlefield, so he enjoys handing over the reins from time to time, of course with the knowledge that he can easily shift the tides. But mostly he likes seeing how cute you are on top.
Cumplay: Gojo finds out he likes seeing you smeared in his seed. It's naughty, it’s degrading, but also erotic and feeds into his lowkey possessive instincts? He especially likes to come on your face and coo at you as he smears it across your lips.
"Be a good girl and swallow it all for me? Yes, babe... fuck, that's hot."
Surprise freaky time. Gojo would go crazy if you're on a date in public at a nice restaurant, and you lean over and tell him you're not wearing panties. Or after several minutes of back and forth flirting, when he finally yanks your pants down and finds a hole in your panties big enough for his cock to just slip in. Easy access. It's like a naughty little treasure that only he can see. Or if you tell him you put a vibrator in your panties before dinner, and hand him the remote. Something to surprise him. Because he can see almost everything, he loves to be caught off guard. It gets him hard like nothing else.
Other kinks he’s willing to indulge: Roleplay, orgasm denial, brat play (both being one and taming one), mutual masturbation, phone sex, sexting, you name it—Gojo’s down to try mostly anything.
🚩red flag! what makes them a bad partner
Gojo's heart is closed off. After the trauma of losing Geto, he never quite opens up to someone the same. He’s friendly of course, but to really win him over, body and soul? He won’t allow it. Of course, he has fans, admirers. He's good-looking and a powerful sorcerer. But they don't really know him, and he likes to keep it that way.
In a relationship, he has an awful habit of trying to defuse arguments or conflict with jokes or humor. Deep down, he's a sensitive guy, but he never allows himself to feel it—preferring to brush off conflict with a grin, a flippant comment. He’s internalized the strongest one mentality, and in a way, he doesn’t think anyone will really see the true him and accept him.
If he gets broken up with, he'll see it as a sign that thing probably would have never worked out to begin with. He won't really let himself grieve a relationship—at least publicly, always putting on the front that he’s fine, that he’s unaffected.
He will also break up with you if he thinks the risks outweigh the benefits. As the inheritor of both the Six Eyes and Limitless, he’s a target for several curse users; he definitely doesn't want them to go after you. He can be quite awful about the breakup too if you insist on being together, putting up an act, and claiming that someone as strong as him couldn't be with someone like you. If you're a non-sorcerer, the excuse is that you don't belong to his world. Whatever helps you detach from him.
He also has a bad habit of assuming you're doing nice things for him because you want something. After all, much of his existence has been out him transactional—he's the chosen one, yes, and revered, but that's for what he can do for jujutsu society. Not for any particular qualities he has. The first time you do something domestic for him—like staying up to cook his favorite meal, or ironing his clothes, or leaving cute notes in his bento—he'll lower his shades and playfully interrogate you on what your motives are. It's kind of heart-breaking, actually. He'll say it with a grin, only to freeze when you admit it's just because. Because you love him.
He doesn't think too hard about the future of a relationship. Most of his experience has been casual flings and/or ended due to the nature of his work. Or if they got too close. His Infinity is a manifestation of the distance he puts between himself and others. If you ask him about marriage or kids, he'll change the topic. And honestly? It's because he's not sure you'll stay around. Whether you break up, die, or defect from jujutsu society like Geto did. The future is unknowable. Gojo may be the strongest, yes, but the strongest are often the loneliest.
hi hi lovelies i have not forgotten about this blog. i’m currently traveling in new york for my bday + will be traveling to the philippines soon to visit family lmao so i’m a bit all over the place!!! but i am excited to get to your gemini season requests + gothic romance requests!
The glass hit the table hard enough to slosh bourbon over the rim, but you didn't care. You were three drinks past your limit and the Varia celebration was still grinding on, all the subordinates too terrified to actually enjoy themselves.
"Xanxus~"
No response. He sat in his chair like it was a throne, jaw tight, watching the room with those scarlet eyes.
"Xanxus, I want to go upstairs."
"Then go."
"With you." You leaned into his arm, pressing your cheek against the sleeve of his jacket. Your body leaned heavily against his side and you made absolutely no effort to move.
"Take me to bed... pleeeaaase?~"
"Tch." He didn't look at you but his hand came up and gripped the back of your neck. Whether it was due to loss of patience or habit, it was hard to tell.
"You're a pain when you drink." he grumbled.
"And you're mean even when you're sober, so we're even."
That got the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He stood without warning, hauling you up with him, and you stumbled into his chest with a surprised laugh. The room went dead silent seeing this, as every Varia officer suddenly found something fascinating to stare at on the far wall.
He walked and you kept up only because his hand hadn't left your neck, steering you through the corridor, up the stairs, all the way to the heavy oak door of your shared quarters before he shouldered it open.
You grabbed his tie before he could deposit you and turn around and yanked him forward, although he barely moved as his eyes dropped to your face.
"Stay~" you giggled.
"I wasn't leaving." he lied.
"You were going to go back down there and brood in your chair for another three hours." You pulled the tie again, walking backward, drawing him in. "I know you."
He kicked the door shut behind him and the lock clicked.
"Yeah." His voice was low, stripped of its usual bite. He looked at you standing there flushed and stubborn in the low light. "You do."
His mouth found yours before you could say another word.
TYL!Superbia Squalo
"VOOOIII! How many of those have you had?!"
You held up four fingers. Then reconsidered, and held up five.
"Oh, for fucks--sit down before you fall down!" Squalo grabbed your elbow as you swayed on the barstool, silver hair swinging as he whipped around to glare at the bartender. "Who kept serving her?!"
The bartender, a civilian contractor who clearly had not signed up for Varia-adjacent terror, went pale and backed into the liquor shelf.
"Squalo." You tugged on his sleeve. Then tugged harder. "Squalooooo."
"WHAT."
"You look really pretty tonight~♥" you curled a lock of his hair around your finger.
That shut him up for approximately one and a half seconds before he looked away from you to hide any evidence of a blush. "You're drunk."
"Drunk and correct." You leaned your full weight against him, arms looping around his waist, face buried in his chest. He stiffened, not because he minded, you'd been married long enough to know that, but because half the Varia was watching with open glee.
"Get off me. We're in public."
"No."
"That wasn't a request!"
"Carry me upstairs and maybe I'll let go." you grinned.
"I'm not--you can't just... dammit, FINE." He ducked down, got an arm under your knees, and swept you up like your weight wasn't a factor. You shrieked with delight as he stormed toward the staircase, face burning red, bellowing at anyone who so much as glanced their direction.
"EYES FORWARD OR I'LL CUT THEM OUT OF YOUR SKULLS."
He kicked open the bedroom door and set you on the bed with more care than his expression suggested. You kept your arms locked around his neck.
"Let go."
"Come here."
"I just carried you here, woman, what more do you--"
You kissed him. Messily and off-center, tasting like cheap prosecco. He made a strangled noise against your mouth and braced one knee on the mattress, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside your hip.
When you pulled back, he was breathing hard. That pretty face his flushed all the way to his ears.
"Door's still open," you whispered.
He walked back a few steps and slammed it so hard the frame cracked.
"Happy?"
"Getting there." You pulled him down again and he went down willingly this time.
TYL!Belphegor
"Ushishishi."
That laugh had been following you for the last twenty minutes. You sat at the end of the banquet table with your chin in your hand, cheeks hot, fourth cocktail mostly gone, and made a point of not looking at him.
"The princess is sulking."
"The princess wants to leave." You pushed the glass away and finally turned. Belphegor leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, crown tilted, grin already in place.
"Bel, I'm tired. Take me upstairs." you offered your hand towards his.
"Hmm. Ask properly."
You narrowed your eyes. "I'm your wife, dipshit."
"And I'm a prince." He tilted his head, blond hair shifting. "Rank supersedes marriage. Those are the rules." he shrugged.
"Those are your rules."
"Ushishi. Exactly."
You stood up, wobbled, and caught yourself on the table. His grin didn't waver, but he was beside you in two strides. A knife appeared between his fingers out of nowhere, flipping idly as he offered you his other arm.
"The prince will escort you. Since you're clearly incapable of walking in a straight line."
"How romantic."
"Royalty doesn't do romance. Royalty does obligation." But his hand settled on the curve of your waist as you walked, thumb tracing a slow circle against your hip through the fabric. The corridor stretched long and dim and his boots clicked an easy rhythm beside yours.
He opened the bedroom door and you turned, grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him across the threshold.
His grin stretched wider. "Oh?"
"Get in here."
"The princess is bold tonight." He let himself be pulled, one step, two, until the door clicked shut and his back was against it. You pressed all of your weight against his lean frame and his chin dipped. Even behind that curtain of hair, you could feel his gaze on you.
"Tell me what you want." His voice dropped, the laugh finally absent from it. "Be specific."
"You. Now. Consider it another one your obligations."
He reached behind him and locked the door.
"Ushishi. Granted."
TYL!Dino Cavallone
You were leaning sideways on the couch when Dino found you, and his reaction was as predictable as the sunrise.
"Oh. Oh no, honey, how much did you--here, don't lean like that, you'll fall off the--ack!" He tripped over the coffee table reaching for you.
The head of the Cavallone family, beloved by many, undone by furniture yet again. Romario, standing by the doorway, pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away.
"Dino~" You reached for him as he caught himself on the armrest. "Dino, I want to go to bed."
"Yeah, okay, that's probably a good idea." He straightened up and pushed his hair back, that apologetic smile already forming. "Can you stand? Here, take my arm."
You took his arm. You also took the opportunity to lean your entire body into him, cheek against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his.
"Sorry," you mumbled into his jacket.
"For what? You're allowed to have fun." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he guided you toward the hallway. His stride slowed to match yours, patient with every uneven step as he looked back. "Romario, we're done for the night."
"Of course, Boss."
The walk upstairs took twice as long as it should have. You kept stopping to nuzzle into his neck, and he kept laughing though flustered, gently steering you forward.
He got the door open with one hand and walked you to the edge of the bed. "Okay, let me get you some water and--"
You grabbed his jacket and pulled causing him to stumble forward with a surprised yelp as he catched himself over you, one hand on the mattress, the other on your hip.
"Stay."
"I was just going to get you--
"Dino." You looked up at him, flushed, stubborn, still holding his collar. "I don't want water, I want you."
His ears went red and his smile became less composed. He exhaled, long and slow, and let his forehead rest against yours.
"You should really have some water..."
"I will, after we're done."
He sighed. "I suppose that's as close to a compromise as I can hope for."
TYL!Byakuran
He had been watching you all night as you finished your sixth marshmallow cocktail, which was his fault as he had them made specially, and the room was doing a gentle spin.
"Bya... kuran." you slurred.
"Hm?" He appeared beside you with half-eaten bag of marshmallows in his hand.
It was midnight at a Millefiore gala and the man was snacking on sugar.
"I'm calling it."
"Already? But the party is so fun." He popped another marshmallow into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "You haven't even tried the cake yet."
"If I try the cake, I will fall over."
"I'd catch you."
"Yeah, after my face falls into it... And after laughing on top of that." you murmured, smacking his shoulder lightly.
His smile widened a fraction. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know unless you do it." He offered you a marshmallow and pouted when you pushed his hand away.
"Take me to our room. Please."
"Since you asked so nicely." He set down the bag, licked sugar off his thumb, and offered you his arm.
The hallways of the estate were empty. Your heels clicked unevenly and he matched your pace without comment, humming something tuneless as you leaned into him.
He opened the bedroom door and you stepped through, turned, grabbed the front of his shirt with both fists, and hauled him inside.
His eyebrows lifted. The smile stayed, but something behind it sharpened. "Oh my~"
"Shut the door."
"It's already shut. Didn't you notice?" He looked down at your hands on his shirt, then at your face. "You're flushed."
"I'm tipsy."
"You're also pretty."
That stalled you for a second. He used it and stepped forward, closing the gap until your back met the edge of the dresser.
"What do you want?" he asked, and for once the playfulness thinned out, leaving just the question and his eyes on you.
"You. Without the audience."
"Done." He kissed the corner of your mouth first, almost delicate, then caught your lips fully, and the taste of marshmallow dissolved into something much better.
TYL!Gamma
You glared at your empty glass for past ten minutes but Gamma had only noticed four minutes ago from across the room. You knew because he lit a fresh cigarette, which was what he did when he was deciding whether to intervene.
Intervention arrived in the form of a hand on your shoulder and a flat voice above your head.
"Okay, time to go."
"I'm fine." you insisted, swatting his hand off.
"You've been staring at that glass like it insulted you. You're done." He took it from your hand and set it on the bar without looking. "Up."
"You're so bossy."
"You married bossy. Let's move."
You stood, and the floor tilted. His arm came around your waist instantly, pulling you against his side. He didn't make a production of it, he just adjusted his grip and started walking.
The cigarette stayed between his lips as he navigated you through the thinning crowd. Stairs. Hallway. Door. He fished the key out with one hand, the other still anchored on you, and shouldered it open.
"Bed. Water on the nightstand. I'll be back after I finish--"
You grabbed his sleeve and he stopped. The cigarette bobbed.
"Come inside." you asked.
"I need to check the perimeter for--"
"Gamma." You pulled harder, stepping backward into the room. "The perimeter can wait."
He looked at you. Looked at the steel grip you had on him, took the cigarette from his mouth, crushed it in the hallway ashtray without breaking eye contact, and stepped inside.
The door closed and locked as he stood there, back straight, watching you closely.
"You planned this." he realized.
"I had four drinks and an impulse. That's not a plan."
The ghost of a smile appeared and vanished as he crossed the room and caught your jaw in one hand, tilting your face up.
"Impulse, huh." His voice was low and close. "Lucky me."
Reborn (Adult Form)
You switched from wine to whiskey an hour ago and that had been a tactical error on your part. The jazz club was winding down, smoke curling under low amber lights, and you were propped against the bar with your lower lip pushed out.
"That face isn't going to work on me."
You pushed it out further.
Reborn stood beside you in a black suit, espresso in hand even though it was midnight and regarded you with the calm appraisal of a man who had never once been outmaneuvered by anyone, least of all his own wife.
"I want to leave." you requested.
"Then leave."
"With you, Reborn."
"Ah." He took a sip. "You could have led with that."
"I could have--But I'm four whiskeys in which have compromised my communication skills"
He set the cup down and adjusted his fedora as his eyes traveled from your flushed face to the way your dress curved over your hips.
"Compromised," he repeated. "That's one word for it."
"Are you going to help me or just stand there being handsome and unhelpful?"
"I can do both." But he offered his arm, and when you took it, he pulled you close, hand resting on the full curve of your waist. He walked you out without a word to anyone.
The hotel corridor was quiet. He unlocked the door, held it open, and you grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket and yanked him through.
One eyebrow rose. The fedora tilted.
"Bold."
"You like bold."
"I like competent. Bold is a bonus." He pushed you against the now-closed door and leaned down with his mouth hovering just above yours, close enough that you could smell espresso and gunpowder.
"Hm, you're still pouting," he murmured.
"Fix that then."
The corner of his mouth curved. "Yes, ma'am."
Fon (Adult Form)
The tea house had been converted for the reception with paper lanterns strung between wooden beams and low tables crowded with guests.
You miscounted your cups of sake, which easy to do when they were so small and kept getting refilled, and now you sat with both hands around an empty cup, cheeks burning, quietly refusing to admit you overdid it.
Fon knelt beside you with a soft smile.
"You're rather flushed."
"It's the lanterns. They're very... warm-colored."
"The lanterns." He smiled fondly, not wanting to tease you intentionally. "Of course."
You turned the cup over in your hands. "I think... I'd like to go to bed, if that's okay."
"Of course, let us go then." He rose and offered both hands to help you stand.
You took them and he drew you upward, absorbing your unsteadiness like a current as you wobbled.
"Lean on me if you'd like."
"I... don't want to be an inconvenience." you hesitated.
"You are my wife." He said it as though that answered every possible objection. His arm came around your back and you pressed into him, your head finding the curve of his shoulder.
He guided you through the corridor with unhurried steps. The night air came through the open screens, cool against your skin as his thumb traced a slow line along your shoulder as you walked, rhythmic as breathing.
The bedroom door slid open under his hand and stepped aside to let you through. You took his hand and softly pulled him in with you.
He followed your lead without any resistance and slid the door shut behind him with his free hand while his other hand held yours tighter.
"You've been patient all evening," you said.
"I'm always patient."
"I know. But I'm not." You squeezed your hand lightly in his hold. "Please stay with me."
He studied your face for a long, quiet moment. Then he raised one hand and brushed the hair from your temple, fingertips trailing down to your jaw, tilting your chin up.
"I believe you may have missed it when I implied..." he trailed for a moment. "That I was coming with you, not simply dropping you off."
Colonnello (Adult Form)
The military fundraiser had free beer. That was their mistake. Your mistake was trying to keep pace with a man who spent years drinking with soldiers, which meant by your sixth bottle you were gone and he was merely cheerful.
"Kora! You look like you're about to slide off that chair."
"I am fine."
"Says the one who put the wrong name on the raffle ticket twenty minutes ago."
"...That was a stylistic choice, in case anyone else had the same name."
Colonnello laughed as he leaned back in his chair. His dress shirt was rolled to the elbows, with his blond hair pushed off his face, looking like the kind of man recruitment posters wished they could manufacture.
You set your bottle down with both hands and looked at him dead on. "Take me home Nello."
"We're staying upstairs. Hotel, remember?"
"Then take me upstairs." you corrected.
"Can you walk?"
"Colonnello."
"It's a real question, kora! Last time you said you could walk after drinking and you zigzagged into a coat rack and almost took out a waiter."
"That coat rack was in a stupid location."
He grinned, stood, and crouched with his back to you. "Hop on."
"You're not serious."
"Yep.--Hop on."
You climbed onto his back because you knew there was no point arguing at this point.
His hands hooked under your thighs and stood with ease as you locked your arms around his neck, and he carried you through the lobby at a stride that suggested he could do this up a mountain in full gear.
Which he had done to prove a point, hence your lack of arguing this time around.
"You good up there?"
"You smell like beer."
"So do you, kora. We match!"
He took the stairs even though the elevator was right there definitely to show off to you and shouldered open the hotel room door once the two of you reached it.
He bent to let you slide off onto the bed but you didn't release your arms.
"Kora, you gotta let go so I can--"
"Nope." You pulled, hard, and he toppled back onto the mattress with you. He let out a surprised bark of laughter, catching himself and rolling over to be above you and your legs hooked around his waist.
"Oh," he said, grin shifting into something more focused. "That's how it is."
"That's how it is." you repeated.
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that, kora."
He kissed you as though this was another point he intended to prove, and honestly, you were happy to let him.
Skull (Adult Form)
"Nobody at this table has said a single nice thing to me all night. Not one!" This complaint had been broadcasted approximately nine times in two hours.
The other guests, a scattered collection of underground figures who stopped registering his existence around complaint three, carried on without blinking.
You rubbed your temples. Six cocktails. You had six cocktails because listening to your husband campaign for acknowledgment required chemical reinforcement.
"Skull."
"I pulled off a triple backflip on a motorcycle last week. Triple! Do you know how many people can do that!? Me, I can! And did anyone here even--"
"Skull."
He turned, eyeliner smudged from an earlier dramatic episode you mercifully missed during a bathroom break, and his face toggled from grievance to full undivided attention in half a second.
"What's wrong? Are you okay? You look flushed. Are you sick? Do you need air? Should I get--"
"I want to go to our room. Now, before I dissolve into this chair."
Everything about him changed in that moment. His shoulders set back with his chin lifted. It was the posture he pulled out whenever he was handed a mission he could actually complete without getting drop-kicked across the venue by a former colleague.
"Done! I've got this, come on." He rounded the table and offered his hand with a flourish that was absurd yet completely sincere. You grabbed it, pulled yourself up, and leaned against him.
He stumbled a half-step but caught you properly on the second try.
"I've got you. Okay? Right here. Not going anywhere."
He steered you through the crowd with his arm locked around your waist, shooting looks at anyone who glanced your direction, expressions he clearly believed were threatening. They were not.
After a side quest of going to the wrong floor, and going down the wrong hallway, he finally got the two of you to your hotel room. He fumbled with the keycard twice before the green light clicked, and by then you were already fisting the collar of his jacket.
"Wait at least let me get the--"
"Inside. Now." You hauled him through the doorway and he yelped, tripping over the threshold, catching himself against you as the door swung shut behind him.
"You--right now? You actually want--"
"We are literally married Skull."
His face went red from the piercings down. All that restless bravado condensed into something more controlled.
"Y-Yeah." His voice cracked once. He steadied it. "Yeah. We are."
Then he kissed you like he still couldn't believe his luck, and you kissed him back until he believed it.
hiii! i just want to say i really love your works and i reread gnaw far too often for my own good. it lives in my head no matter how many times i try to kick it out and that is the GRIP your writing has on me!!!! it is so fucking amazing!!!! thank you so much for putting your works out there for people to enjoy because i know damn well ive been enjoying it!!!
anyway, thank you for what you do and i hope you have an amazing day/night <3 from gnaw-nnie... haha... ha... i need to reread it right now actually
hi gnaw-nnie hope ur still out there because this maaaade my year when i read it. this was such a sweet message to open tumblr to <33
i'm glad you liked gnaw so much! it's probably one of my favorite things i've written. getting into izuru's sad miserable puppy mindset <3 lamenting <3 the angst that he puts himself through for no reason <33 also the freaky deaky of him needing to be restrained to be close to reader
WAITTT WE LOWKEYYY HIGH KEYYYY NEEF A PART TWO TO THE COOKING PROJEVT THING WHERE U SHOW US WHAT WE FIF AT AKIRA’S PLACE… And perchance how that changes their behaviour in class like do they tone it down orrrr
girlllll wait if there's a demand for it, i meaaan 👁️👁️👁️ i actually wrote this fic so long ago! i never thought about a part 2 hmmm...... food for thought. it could be very cute—or horny. probably horny. i'll add this to the WIP pile!!!
in honor of my fellow gemini's, i'm doing a mini event based on our sign.
gemini (may 21-jun 20) is the 3rd sign in the zodiac. they're known for being witty, curious, flirtatious, childlike, inconsistent, and two-faced. their sign is that of the twins, to represent their dual nature.
send me any (or all) of the following emotes + a character from any of the fandoms i write to get headcanons for your favs!
🥀 huge flirts = how they flirt
🗣️ chatterbox = things they can yap about 24/7
🫦 most likely to talk you through it = how they talk dirty to you (18+)
🎭 two-faced = how they act in public vs with you
🔍 endless curiosity = what do they want to know most about you/in general?
👽 lowkey freaks = kinks they’d try in bed (18+)
🚩commitment-phobe = red flag!! what makes them a bad partner?
oh to be a vampire’s lover… wandering around a crumbling estate, clad in only a nightgown and exploring the grounds with a candelabra… only to stumble upon your lover, not yet awake to the evening, but roused by the scent of your blood. clawed hands yanking the hem of your dress down so they can sink their fangs back into your throat
vampires who see blood drinking as an intimate act. you're giving yourself fully to them, putting your fragile, fleeting human life in a monster's hands. and it is erotic--their tongue trailing down the slope of your neck, your pulse thrumming beneath skin, practically calling to them... the bliss when their fangs sink in, puncturing your flesh, blood dribbling down their chin. you inhale sharply and they groan, eyes closing, savoring the warm metallic taste rushing down their throat. the sound of them gulping down your life essence, drinking greedily, unable to stop... an arm clasping your waist, the other holding your back steady to them as they feed. and they don't want to let go--you taste so, so delicious; you taste alive. to deprive themselves of such bliss is torture. but your pulse grows weaker beneath their fangs, and your hands are starting to tremble, so they must detach from your neck, not before making sure to clean their mess with their tongue. and when they see the perfect bite marks left on your neck, your body practically begging to be fed from again? it's no wonder a vampire can get drunk on their human's blood.
