➜ 𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - Running a Saloon is no easy task. You keep gaining the attention of many interesting figures; namely, a quiet yet cocky outlaw, who has no problem being chased. He especially had no problem, fucking you while on the run.
𝜗𝜚 word count: 2k , [art cr: k4enyu on twt]
★ ⋮ 𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 ⸝⸝ : explicit content +18 MDNI , f!reader x emo!cowboy , strangers to lovers , one night stand , riding/cowgirl (duh) , unprotected p in v sex , creampie , exhibitionism , dirty talk , corny dialog , subtle back and forth
You've always had a magnet for trouble around these parts; You've never been the type to back down.
In the small dry town, You've managed to occupy a simple yet entertaining life under the beaming sun and above the dirt paths. You ran the Saloon, where you've encountered your fair share of problems. From rowdy drunkards, to persistent Casanovas, you've learned who to approach and who to stay away from.
The Sun was high in the sky, signaling to you that it was almost noon right about now, and that usually a rush of patrons would arrive in the next hour. Other than that, It was relatively quiet around this time, until you heard the old creek of the swinging wooden doors.
"Welcome." You greeted instinctively, not even sparing so much as a glance up to see who came in. You knew everyone in town; it came with the territory. And if it was a new face, you never care enough to truly start some conversation. So you keep yourself occupied with the clear glass in your hand, cleaning it to prepare for that afternoon rush.
There wasn't any response which was to be expected, as the old floors let out whines with each heavy footstep. When the customer sat on the barstool in front of you, your eyes finally moved up to be met with dark ones.
Truth be told the first thought that crossed your mind, 'woah, this fella is mighty fine.' The second being 'how is he not hot wearing all dark clothing at this time of day?' But you refrain from vocalizing those thoughts. "So, what will it be, hm?" You ask casually.
"... Somethin' strong." The man answered after a moment of thinking about it, his eyes never leaving your figure.
You raise an eyebrow at his almost exhausted tone, not only that but the way he looked at you in return. I weren't sure if you label him as another pervert or a drunk fuck just yet. Nevertheless, you turned to fix him a drink. "It ain't even noon, and you're already having a bad day?" You shot back,
"Eh, something like that."
The Saloon fell quiet once more, with the exception of the sound of alcohol hitting the glass. You took the moment to glance at him once more, assessing; his long dark wavy hair, his equally dark eyes that were shadowed by the rim of his hat. If you were better off, you'd probably send him away just with how suspicious he looked, but then again you were confident in your ability to handle yourself. You've made it this far afterall, and more importantly, money is money.
You skillfully slid the drink over to him, and hummed your usual two cents, "Well, chin up, no point in sulking all day."
You watch him raise the glass to his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing with the few large gulps he took. After, he set the drink back down and let out a sigh, almost as if that drink was exactly what he needed, before he smirks, his voice low, "Yeah? Well, ain't you a sweet thing? Worrying about me."
You ruffled at the comment. You couldn't even tell if he was being sarcastic or making a sorry attempt to flirt with you.
You were about to shoot back with a comment of your own when you heard shouting from outside. It sounded like faint arguing; something along the lines of, "I haven't seen anything!" "Don't lie!"
Your body tenses up at the commotion; something wasn't right.
As troublesome this small town was to you, you've never dealt with anything too serious, aside from dealing with romantic advances from old drunks. But looking out the window it looked like the local sheriff and other town folk were outside, and that was bad news to me.
"Shit." You hear the man grumble, kissing his teeth in annoyance rather than urgency. Paying no mind to the chaos outside, he looks at you rather calmly, "You got somewhere I can lay low for a bit?"
Your head whips back to the cowboy, confusion written all over your face. You couldn't comprehend how he could be so calm, and more importantly how he could ask something like that right now. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, and before you could even think whether or not you should even answer, he was already moving.
"Hey! Y-you hold on-" Your voice was swiftly cut short, his hand grabs a whole of your wrist, (as if you BOTH had somewhere to be) his gaze fixed on his goal: the closest right behind the Saloon's bar table. To him it was the perfect place to hide out until the authorities gave up their search. To you, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
Next thing you knew your chest was pressed against his, as you were pulled onto his lap in the dimly lit storage closet, far too small for both of you to get some space from each other. You could smell the sharp scent of alcohol clinging onto him along with a faint smell of dirt and grass.
You open your mouth, only to get cut off once again, with him squeezing your thigh, his expression focused on the closet door ahead, listening carefully. If you strained your ears enough you could hear the continuation of shouts from outside over the sound of your own combined heart beats and breathing.
The close proximity you found yourself in was unlike anything you've ever experienced. You have been able to de-escalate bar fights and subtly protect others in your own way, but this... this finally answered what you should be labeling him as,
He finally had enough of listening for the source of this predicament and glazed back down at you, with a lazy smirk, "So, I guess we're stuck here for a while."
Yeah he was definitely a pervert.
Your eyes narrowed onto him, clearly he wasn't as stressed about the situation at hand more than he probably should. Even worse was that you got roped into this, "Now who's fault is that?" You huffed quietly, trying to find anywhere else to look. "Are you always this impulsive?"
The cowboy only snorted softly, his large hand resting on the small of your back, bringing you impossibly closer, whispering in your ear, "Heh, sorry, darlin. Didn't think they'd keep chasing me." His warm breath tickled the shell of your ear, and sent a shiver down your body. You couldn't help but squirm involuntarily, grinding down on his lap.
His hands tightened their hold around you as he let out a muffled groan against the crook of your neck, "Mhm... let me make it up to ya." He mumbles in that low southern draw, before his hips buck upwards, just once, a silent offer. He claims it's for you but, the proximity reminded him just how deprived of physical touch he was.
Always on the road, wild and free, yet no one to satisfy that insatiable hunger, that natural human desire.
The small space suddenly felt unbearably hot with tension and need. You were starting to feel affected too, especially with his stiff bulge rubbing against you.
Common sense tells you to simply leave him and report him to the authorities for whatever crime has him being hunted down.
But you were in a similar position, with work at the Saloon all the time, and that stubborn refusal to take a break, you were just as pent up as he was.
Your hands grip on to his clothes tightly, your throat feeling like sandpaper from anticipation. Common sense suddenly flew out the window. The deliberate roll of your hips, desperately searching for the friction your clothed pussy needed, and you just managed to choke out a reply, "I-I... Please..."
The dark haired man lets out a satisfied moan, as he kisses your neck feverishly as his hands roam around your waist. Your hands grip onto his shoulders for support, as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to go further.
His hands trail down to the waistband of your flared jeans, slowly tugging them down like the tease he is. His slowness only edges you on, your panties probably soaked beyond belief while you undo the buckle of his belt.
Like a game of tug or war, clothing was thorn off of each other's bodies; the tension that lingered in the air, sharply rose as your lower halves were increasingly growing more bare.
Just as you were about to sink onto that man's hard throbbing cock, the world had its own plans, as the voices that seemed so far away suddenly grew closer.
Your body froze. You had practically forgotten all about the sheriff who was looking for the man you've gotten yourself involved with. You were internally panicking, and yet when you looked back at him he seemed so calm it was almost annoying.
With a confident look, he leaned closer, his hands gripping your hips, "What? You scared, darlin? He whispered, his voice dripping condescendingly.
"You can take it can't you? Just gotta be quiet 's all."
The way he spoke as if it was some challenge, definitely made you more competitive.
Voices muffled in the distance, made the fact that law enforcement could find the two of you in here, in this position, more obvious. However, if only made your body heat up with need, your pussy aching; begging to be filled.
Finally, you braced yourself, as your slick hole slowly took the length of dick.
Your warm insides were already fluttering around him, trying to accommodate to the size. You had to bite your lip hard enough to stop the filthy noises that would have escaped otherwise.
"Yeahh, atta girl.." he groans softly, letting you adjust. He wasn't bothered by the risks this posed but rather, more excited by this fact.
His thumb rubs the plush of your thigh, almost conforming before whispering in your ear, "Come on, fuck me." He leaned back afterwards, giving a clear expectation; he wasn't going to give you what you wanted, you had to earn it.
"B-bastard... Mmm Fuck-" You whimper and complain, and yet you wasted no time lifting your hips before nesting right onto his cock again.
You keep up your pace, a pattern of feeling empty before being filled so deep, again and again, driving you insane. The sound of slapping skin and wetness starting to be your focus rather than the search going on outside the closet.
The cowboy, watching you riding on his cock so desperately lets out rough grunts, feeling your tight warm walls around him, squeezing on every time you manage to take it deeper, "Look at you... taking me like this..."
"Maybe I should come back again... and ngh- fuck ya over that bar table.. Bet you'd like that." He muttered.
You cunt clenches around him, starving for more stimulation. After what he managed to whisper into your ear, staying quiet was nearly impossible. The voices were still oblivious to what was occurring behind closed doors as they spoke.
Your thighs burn and tremble as you bounce up and down on his cock, the smell of sweat and sex filling the closet. You felt his tip press against that sweet spot that was enough to extract a sharp gasp from you, "Ah! Nghh..."
The gasp echoes through the closest, and you immediately halt your movements.
Your folds flutter around his dick in protest of your pause, yet you were holding your breath, hoping that no one heard that.
The dark haired man watches you tense up and listen to see if they would get caught, but the stillness made him restless.
After a beat of silence, his hands grab a firm hold on your hips and lift you up and back down, watching his cock disappear into your cunt, feeling your ass smack against his pelvis.
"Wh- Mmm...! what if they hear-"
"Don't care. Just- let me give this pretty pussy what she wants..."
Your breath is nearly stolen from you, with every time he pushes your body onto it. Your heart stutters in your chest as you feel a swirling knot in your stomach. Your brain feels like it's becoming mush as your pussy squelches with every deep thrust.
As he feels you tightening around him, he grits his teeth, desperately trying to hold back. Bouncing you off of his length, he looks up at your cock-drunk expression.
He knew you were getting close, and he wanted it all, to witness you fall apart because of him.
"C-cumming...! Don't stop... please!" You were already seeing stars, your eyes rolling back as the sound of your moans, and the plaps of skin smacking against skin fill the room. With one last thrust, you were coming apart, your walls tightening around him as you rode out your orgasm.
"That's it... cum for me sweetheart." He groaned, but the dark haired man didn't let off. Instead, he started bucking his hips into you, causing that pleasure he was seeking as you came down on him. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, you hold on to him as he finally spills his warm cum into your hole, gritting through his own orgasm, "S-shit... so so tight..."
The closet fell quiet, once filled with the sounds of intimacy now filled with heavy breathing as you try to catch your breath and come down from your high.
You found yourself clinging on to his body, refusing to let go after a vulnerable experience, as you buried your face into his shoulder, "S-so full..." you whined, more to yourself than anything.
Your voice coming out muffled, but he didn't seem to mind, as he held you close just as tight. Despite his exhaustion he still had the energy to comment, "Yeah..? Guess I did a good job then."
You huffed, but didn't say anything in return, letting the quiet moment play on. Almost too quiet now that you think about it. As if you were forgetting about something.
The closet door finally cracks open.
Your heart stops. That's what slipped your mind.
You didn't truly think anyone would find you, and in definitely not while you had an outlaw's dick still balls deep inside you. This was a harsh punishment practically waiting to happen.
You slowly turn your head to meet your awaiting doom.
Your eyes locked on to the sheriff: his eyes wide, drops of sweat falling down his forehead as he swallowed. Hard.
And as your gaze flickers down, you were met with a sight you certainly wasn't expecting either:
A huge tent in his pants, the tip drenched in precum. He was also hard.
Behind you, the outlaw simply smirks at the sight as his length swells inside you. Great, now he was hard again too.
It was clear that your day was far from over.
➜ oc , choso kamo , levi ackerman , geto suguru , shota aizawa , hitoshi shinsou , giyu tomioka , l lawliet , and your favs!
a/n : this started off as a joke(YEEHAW) but, boy did i get carried away. 😅 I hoped you enjoyed the little plot twist (?) Should I make a part 2?? 👀
Sukuna refuses to call you his.
But the moment someone else tries to—he suddenly has a problem with it.
A/N: you aint my boyfriend and i aint ur girlfriend, okay if u couldnt tell i got inspo from the song boyfriend from ari and social house. OOO yes if u want, listen to anointed by miguel at the partay scene golly gosh that had me going coo coo bonkers i was giggling and everything, and then i realised im such a flipping chud so i stopped giggling my bum off asap and locked tf in. Anywho this one is pretty short but enjoy my lil kyuties ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
Art: @/patty.i on insta go eat it up yall
Sukuna never asked you to be his.
But somehow you still ended up acting like you were.
It starts with small things.
Late night texts.
Showing up without warning.
His jacket tossed over the back of your chair like it belongs there.
Your phone buzzes softly against the counter.
You home.
You stare at the message for a moment. No greeting. No question mark. Just the assumption that you will.
Yeah.
Three dots appear instantly.
Open the door.
A knock follows seconds later.
When you open it, Ryomen Sukuna leans against the frame like he’s been there all night. His presence fills the doorway before he even speaks, the air around him heavy with his warm, spicy cologne.
His eyes flick over you once. Assessing.
“Thought you were asleep.”
“Bruh, you literally texted me.”
He hums, brushing past you without waiting for an invitation. His hand lingers briefly on the small of your back as he passes, pressing just enough to claim the space.
You shut the door behind him.
“You’re going to start paying rent at this point" you mutter.
Sukuna stretches on the couch, arms draped across the back, leaning just enough toward you to fill the space. The faint scrape of his fingers against the leather sounds like he’s everywhere at once.
“You’d miss me.”
You roll your eyes, but neither of you argues with it.
─────────────────────
Weeks pass like that.
Late nights. Shared silences.
His hand rests on your waist as you move around the kitchen, fingers brushing the curve of your hip, teasingly lingering when you reach for the coffee.
When you walk together, he closes the space between you, shoulder brushing yours, standing slightly behind or beside you in a way that silently says: I’m here. I’m yours.
Sometimes he waits for you after lectures, leaning against the gate with that lazy, half smirk of his, arms crossed, watching everyone pass. You see him, and your stomach twists because he’s been there long before you arrived. His gaze locks on you, dark and calculating, a quiet warning to anyone who dares get too close.
You share the couch and steal blankets, half tangled around him while the other half barely covers you.
Sometimes he drapes himself across you, hand brushing lightly down your arm or against your thigh—not intrusive, but claiming the space you occupy.
When he’s relaxed, lying back on the couch, you let your fingers wander over his tattoos, tracing the lines along his face and chest. Each line and mark feels almost magnetic under your touch, and he hums low, letting you do it, thumb occasionally brushing your hand like he’s claiming both you and the movement. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your fingers, and you swear you can feel the slight smirk in the way he adjusts his position, making sure your hand lingers exactly where he wants it.
Sometimes you fall asleep in his bed after an argument you didn’t finish—bodies pressed together, the quiet between you louder than any words.
Other times, you wake up tangled in his arms, hair brushing his chest, fingers clutching his shirt without realizing it. His hand curls around your wrist, thumb tracing small, slow circles that leave you distracted before your first thought of the day.
You notice his habits without thinking:
How he leans a fraction closer when someone else gets too near.
The way he smirks when you try to tease him back.
The “tch” or scoff of annoyance that makes your pulse quicken.
Pressing his forehead to yours in the morning, claiming the first moment of your day.
Teasing gestures like “Oops, that’s my spot now” paired with a tilt of his head, daring you to argue.
Almost like a couple.
But no labels.
No promises.
And the tension of it… it’s almost unbearable.
─────────────────────
Tonight, the frat house is crowded. Music pulses, bass vibrating faintly through the floor. People move around you, drinks in hand, laughter spilling over conversations.
You pause near the entrance, scanning the room.
Across the living room, Ryomen Sukuna leans lazily against the back of a couch, looking entirely too comfortable. A couple girls crowd around him, laughing a little too loudly at whatever he just said.
One of them rests a hand on his arm.
Another leans in closer, fingers brushing his shoulder.
He lets them.
Your jaw tightens.
Then his eyes find you.
Instantly.
Like he’d known exactly where you were the entire time.
For a moment neither of you moves. Across the room, through flashing lights and shifting bodies, he just watches you.
And then he smirks.
Slow. Knowing.
Like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.
The girl beside him is still talking, fingers resting lightly on his arm.
Sukuna doesn’t move them away.
His gaze stays on you.
Unbothered.
Almost… amused.
You roll your eyes.
Typical.
You turn away before he can read anything else on your face and make your way to the kitchen counter, adjusting the hem of your mini black off shoulder dress, the fabric hugging your waist and tight at your hips. Gold open toe heels click softly against the floor, gold hoops swaying with the tilt of your head. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflective surface of the fridge—makeup done, tense shoulders, slightly flushed from the alcohol.
You reach the fridge and pull it open, the cool light spilling across the counter as you grab a drink.
“Careful with that one” a voice says.
You glance up.
A guy leans against the counter, smiling. “Trust me. It’s stronger than it looks.”
You huff a small laugh. “I’ll take my chances.”
The guy laughs, leaning closer so you can hear over the music.
“So… what brings you here alone?”
You shrug. “Just needed a drink and a break from… life.”
He smirks. “I get that. Same here.”
You start chatting more freely, laughing at something he says. For a moment, it feels easy. Light. Normal.
He leans in, lowering his voice.
“You know, you’ve got that… energy. Makes people want to talk to you.”
You can’t help but smile, feeling a flutter you haven’t felt in a while.
Then a familiar scent hits you before you see him—warm, spicy, impossible to ignore.
Sukuna
A pair of arms slide around your waist from behind.
Warm. Firm. Familiar.
Your breath hitches.
His broad chest presses against your back, the sheer size of him almost swallowing you as he pulls you closer. One hand settles lightly on your stomach while the other grazes your hip, fingers brushing the edge of your dress as he anchors you against him. The fabric shifts under his grip, lifting fractionally as you instinctively steady yourself on your heels, the soft click against the floor betraying the movement.
He isn’t looking at you.
His eyes lock on the guy across from you.
Calm. Unblinking. Measuring.
Slowly, he dips his head, nose brushing the side of your neck before settling into the crook. His breath ghosts warm against your skin, fingers tightening just enough to anchor you. The gentle sway of your gold hoops brushes against him with every shallow inhale you take.
The guy stiffens.
“Oh—uh. Sorry, man, I didn’t know—”
“No” you say, shifting. “We’re not—”
“Yeah” Sukuna interrupts smoothly, voice low. “You should go.”
The guy hesitates, mutters “Right… my bad,” and disappears into the crowd.
You turn inside Sukuna’s arms, looking up at him.
“You’re impossible” you mutter.
He looks down at you like nothing happened.
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
His eyes flick over your face slowly, and he lets out a light scoff.
You push lightly at his chest.
“Stop acting like you own me.”
For a moment he just watches you.
Then he pulls you in closer by the waist. The hem of your dress rides up slightly before he reaches behind you to pull it back down in place.
“You want a boyfriend?”
His thumb drags slowly along your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.
“That what this is about?”
You don’t answer.
His eyes darken.
“Tch.”
“Greedy.”
For a second, neither of you moves. The music and chatter fade behind you, but the space between you feels heavy.
Sukuna hums softly, hand sliding back down to the small of your back. Fingers settle there like they never left, pressing against the curve of your back and making the hem of your dress lift a fraction higher, brushing the top of your thigh. You shift slightly on your heels, heels clicking softly against the floor as he adjusts his hold, keeping you close.
“And yet,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “you still let me do this.”
Your breath catches when he pulls you a fraction closer.
“Doesn’t really sound like you want a boyfriend” he says lazily.
Slowly, he dips his head, bending easily to reach your neck, his nose brushing the side of it before settling into the crook.
He trails light kisses along your neck—the same way he’s done a thousand times before. Practiced. Claiming. So familiar it makes your stomach twist.
You inhale sharply, his spicy cologne mixing with the soft sweetness of your vanilla perfume, making your head spin.
“Sounds like you just want me.”
His lips brush the shell of your ear, voice low and teasing.
Varka was far away in another country because of his job, working with the ministry of affairs for Mondstadt. They needed to achieve an alliance with Nod-Krai, an independent state of Snezhnaya with a large time difference. He hated it. He. Hated. It. Hated on being so far away from his one and only lover, which was you. It’s only been two weeks, both of you haven’t found the time to call, only through texts that were replied between different hours.
This particular day, he was so stressed that he ended up spam calling you on his phone. The third call that buzzed in.. you finally picked up. Varka chuckles hearing your small yawn, “Varka..? Mmm.. you woke me up, honey..” He heard the sound you let out, probably stretching out on the bed. His heartbeat paced up, his blood pumping down. . He coughed at that. “Hi baby, sorry for waking you up.” Immediately, you quickly shut his apologies down.
“No.. no it's okay.. you can always call me, hehe..” He sighs, already sitting near the hotel desk. He’d been staying in this small abode for all of these two weeks, giving only a sliver of privacy for him. “I just got out of another diplomatic meeting.” You looked at the alarm clock in the large shared bed you both always sleep in. It’s 4 a.m, the red coloured numbers reflect just how early it is for you and yet it's only 8 p.m. for Varka. “Awe, nice.. Do you want to talk—” “No, please.. babe..”
You shut your mouth quickly then chuckled, “Of course, no work talk?” He hummed at that, huddling up inside the blankets of the bed, you got even more comfortable. “Baby.” He called you out over the phone, “Yes?” He tilted his head as he looked out at the view in his room. “Tell me about your week.” And that's how you ended up chatting for a while, you spoke about what you’ve been doing, then talking about the people in Mondstadt and how they’re doing. Though, he stopped responding a long halfway.. now that makes you suspicious.
Thoughts raced through your mind, then you called out. “Honey?” No answer on the other line, then you called out again, “Varka.” He replied back with a grunt, “Yes, urghh.. babyy..” This was a dead giveaway to you, it didn’t take long to put the pieces together. “Are you seriously jerking off?” A moment of silence, as he let out a small groan. “Couldn’t help myself, just m..missed you so much.” Finally, you could hear the squelching sound in the other line, it really sounded like he was enjoying himself. “You horndog..” Another grunt, “Yeah but I’m your horndog.”
This is how he had tempted you now, you were rubbing your hand against your slit, “Aaah.. Varka..” Feeling the slick all familiar texture between your legs. “You’re just rubbing yourself aren’t you?” He knew you too well, even by the way you touch yourself, so you slipped your index finger inside. Your folds were already slippery from the slick wetness, you let out a small gasp. “Awe, cmon, you know you can take larger than one finger..” How the FUCK did he know..
“Well you aren’t here—” “Doesn’t matter, put two fingers inside, baby.” You could hear him spit on his hand on the other line, you whined again slipping your middle finger. He could hear your fingers easily pushing in and out of your walls, as he groaned. Varka’s dick was throbbing, all that pent up stress and horniness kicking off. He used his imagination to think what you even look like, sprawled up in their bed. “Baby, why don't you pick up the pace?” Your fingers started doing a pistoning motion. “I ngh.. am!” “Yeah, but you’re not screaming my name yet, so pick up the pace.”
You clutched your phone by the shoulder really close to your ear, as one hand was prodigy inside your gummy walls and the other one held a small mini toy that vibrated on your small bud with such vigor. “Varka.. I'm so close soclose…!” “Nuh uh, not yet.. Just a bit more, yeah?” His breathy voice caught you off guard as you cried out, “nono fair..”
“I know you can hold off once more baby, urgh— cmon, I’m right there..”
Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins such a bizarre and long name for someone to have. That someone is your lover, but how did this happen? Travelling from nation to nation, you stumbled upon Nod-Krai. Their hospitality completely swooned you over to say an extra few days— to which you had met a Ratnik, which meant you stayed for another few months with him. Flins was unique, he was such a gentleman to you and his way of speaking was very polished. You had gotten a phone call from one of your family members back from where you came from.
One day, you sat down on your shared bed. “Flins” You called out to him as he adjusted his uniform.. Finally finishing his shifts of the night he had, he raised an eyebrow. “Yes, my love?” Breaking the news to him was a shocker, one of your family members, to be more specific was your father had fallen ill. You need to catch a plane back as quick as you can, Flins being the most caring lover urged you to just book a flight as quickly as possible.
He stayed up that night, considering he doesn’t usually sleep, he secretly bought you a ticket for tomorrow night. He looked down on your sleeping figure beside him, snoring softly. He raises his palm to hold your cheek, then softly strokes your back, “Sleep well, love.” He whispered in your ear, even in your sleep you reacted scooting closer to his body.
The next day, Flins showed you the flight ticket as soon as you woke up. “You did all of this while I was asleep?” He nodded, easily offering you your favorite meal for breakfast. You huffed, “Man I lucked out for such an amazing boyfriend.” Already scooping up a bite and chewing the meal, He let out a small laugh. “It’s just breakfast, that's standard..” You grinned at his obliviousness. “Okay stop trying to woo me now..” He let out a small chuckle, “I am not.” “You so are..!”
Flins just smiled, “I’ll miss you.” He held onto you, his palm already resting on your back, rubbing the soft sliver of skin. “I’ll miss you too..!” You whined beside him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’ll be back before you know it..” You placed the spoon, eagerly toying with his chin. “Don’t miss me too much, mkay..!”
He couldn’t help himself, it was lewd, too dirty but you were so far away.. All the way at Liyue or was it Inazuma, he forgot how you smelled, how you felt. So here he was, phone in one hand, the other hand pulling down at his sweats. It wasn’t fair, the time difference, it was 12 pm at Nodkrai and it was probably early morning at your place. Flins always had a folder with just your pictures, what you didn’t know was— he kept another one, locked inside a passcode which was your birthday.
What was inside, well.. suggestive photos and videos you’ve either sent or taken in his phone. He looked down, it was a picture of you cladded in just a zipped up hoodie, his hoodie. That little sliver of cleavage made him throb in under a few seconds which was definitely record time. “My love.. forgive me—” He let the spit roll in his mouth before the sound was made in the dim room. His feverous tip was so swollen as he let out a small breath.
Even cupping his balls, gripping the base, it wasn’t enough for him, never enough when he just needed you. Flins must’ve reached a new low, cause he had to pull up a video of you just yapping his ear off at one of the dates they’ve gone. “Mmm..ngh.. Feels too good” It was so pathetic, his hand moved quickly trying to chase the thrill, even tightening his grip. He imagined it was your sloppy pussy around him, didn’t feel the same— not as warm and snug but it’s the next best thing.
“Ugh.. I miss you.. m-miss that pussy s’much..”
Nefer, she wasn’t the type to be hung up over such trivial matters, and yet here she is texting you even if she had work. Such a busy woman, the CEO for Curatorium of Secrets and also the only operator for the Northern Intelligence Network, was head over heels for you. You guys weren’t long distance.. It was surprising how you guys started dating online, haven’t met at all.
You were a well versed hacker and she needed information— of course she needed your expertise. The sound of the notification dinged in her work laptop. ‘Nefer..!! What’s my next course of action, honey (˶˃⤙˂˶)..!’ Your text is as enthusiastic as your personality, blatantly shown in the text.
Nefer was already swamped with her other work, her poor lover didn’t have work to do, no orders. Truth be told, Nefer was never a texter kind of person. Another notification popped again. ‘Are you ignoring me..?!! ( •̀ ᴖ •́ )’ Then a dozen notifs later, she finally groaned. Already dialing the number, “Quit it, you brat.”
You sank onto your lavish gaming chair, Nefer had bought out for you. “You weren’t replying, Nefer.” Your sweet voice finally replied to her back. She could hear you mindlessly typing away at that keyboard of yours, she also bought for you. “Can’t you see I’m busy, work has swamped me.” A sound of a chuckle could be heard at the other line. “Then take a break, who’s stopping you—” “I have another meeting set up in five minutes.” Then another notification dinged in her work laptop.
“Open my messages, honey..~” You cooed at the other line, and she could only sigh. “I swear if it’s another absurd tiktok of—” She could only swallow as the photo loaded up. It was clearly a picture of you, clad in that babydoll lingerie she had bought for you. Man, she spoiled you with gifts everyday. “Goodluck for your meeting, honey!” You teased once more, before ending the call. Such a tease you were, she couldn’t help but scoff as she gingerly got up to join the meeting.
Nefer couldn’t focus during the head-board meeting, so she hid her phone under the table. Eagerly replying to each text message you gave.
Nefer had a remote controlled vibrator, that only she could control just for you. She bumped it to just a level 3 as the ringtone came in. There you were, in all your glory, pushing the small thing right against your clit. “F-fuck.. Ne..fer!!” Your whines could be heard to the monitor, Thank god for the soundproof walls installed for her office. “You really had to tease me, during a corporal meeting, darling?” Her voice poised with such authority you couldn’t help but moan again.
“I missed you..” You hummed, eagerly shoving it inside as your fingers got to work, swirling your puffy clit. “P..plus you love the view no?” You eagerly looked at the camera of your phone. She could see you just lounge on that gaming chair as your desktop highlighted your figure. Nefer placed a hand under her chin as she watched. “Can’t even get off on your own huh? Such a slut.” “Your slut though—!”
“Cmon, aren’t you at least a bit wet watching me..?” Your voice cooed as your eyes met through the screen. She cranked up the level to a five as you choked on your voice, visibly jittering. “Shitshitshit.. So close..!!” Then she stopped the buzzing, you whined. “Ah.. you’re such a freak.. Edging me already..?” “Think of it as a lesson to be taught for sending nudes in broad daylight.” You could only giggle, “Hey.. atleast accompany me finger myself..” You brought out your fingers to your mouth, eagerly licking giving her a show.
“Oh I will, until I get you drenched over that poor monitor of yours.”
Varka was far away in another country because of his job, working with the ministry of affairs for Mondstadt. They needed to achieve an alliance with Nod-Krai, an independent state of Snezhnaya with a large time difference. He hated it. He. Hated. It. Hated on being so far away from his one and only lover, which was you. It’s only been two weeks, both of you haven’t found the time to call, only through texts that were replied between different hours.
This particular day, he was so stressed that he ended up spam calling you on his phone. The third call that buzzed in.. you finally picked up. Varka chuckles hearing your small yawn, “Varka..? Mmm.. you woke me up, honey..” He heard the sound you let out, probably stretching out on the bed. His heartbeat paced up, his blood pumping down. . He coughed at that. “Hi baby, sorry for waking you up.” Immediately, you quickly shut his apologies down.
“No.. no it's okay.. you can always call me, hehe..” He sighs, already sitting near the hotel desk. He’d been staying in this small abode for all of these two weeks, giving only a sliver of privacy for him. “I just got out of another diplomatic meeting.” You looked at the alarm clock in the large shared bed you both always sleep in. It’s 4 a.m, the red coloured numbers reflect just how early it is for you and yet it's only 8 p.m. for Varka. “Awe, nice.. Do you want to talk—” “No, please.. babe..”
You shut your mouth quickly then chuckled, “Of course, no work talk?” He hummed at that, huddling up inside the blankets of the bed, you got even more comfortable. “Baby.” He called you out over the phone, “Yes?” He tilted his head as he looked out at the view in his room. “Tell me about your week.” And that's how you ended up chatting for a while, you spoke about what you’ve been doing, then talking about the people in Mondstadt and how they’re doing. Though, he stopped responding a long halfway.. now that makes you suspicious.
Thoughts raced through your mind, then you called out. “Honey?” No answer on the other line, then you called out again, “Varka.” He replied back with a grunt, “Yes, urghh.. babyy..” This was a dead giveaway to you, it didn’t take long to put the pieces together. “Are you seriously jerking off?” A moment of silence, as he let out a small groan. “Couldn’t help myself, just m..missed you so much.” Finally, you could hear the squelching sound in the other line, it really sounded like he was enjoying himself. “You horndog..” Another grunt, “Yeah but I’m your horndog.”
This is how he had tempted you now, you were rubbing your hand against your slit, “Aaah.. Varka..” Feeling the slick all familiar texture between your legs. “You’re just rubbing yourself aren’t you?” He knew you too well, even by the way you touch yourself, so you slipped your index finger inside. Your folds were already slippery from the slick wetness, you let out a small gasp. “Awe, cmon, you know you can take larger than one finger..” How the FUCK did he know..
“Well you aren’t here—” “Doesn’t matter, put two fingers inside, baby.” You could hear him spit on his hand on the other line, you whined again slipping your middle finger. He could hear your fingers easily pushing in and out of your walls, as he groaned. Varka’s dick was throbbing, all that pent up stress and horniness kicking off. He used his imagination to think what you even look like, sprawled up in their bed. “Baby, why don't you pick up the pace?” Your fingers started doing a pistoning motion. “I ngh.. am!” “Yeah, but you’re not screaming my name yet, so pick up the pace.”
You clutched your phone by the shoulder really close to your ear, as one hand was prodigy inside your gummy walls and the other one held a small mini toy that vibrated on your small bud with such vigor. “Varka.. I'm so close soclose…!” “Nuh uh, not yet.. Just a bit more, yeah?” His breathy voice caught you off guard as you cried out, “nono fair..”
“I know you can hold off once more baby, urgh— cmon, I’m right there..”
Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins such a bizarre and long name for someone to have. That someone is your lover, but how did this happen? Travelling from nation to nation, you stumbled upon Nod-Krai. Their hospitality completely swooned you over to say an extra few days— to which you had met a Ratnik, which meant you stayed for another few months with him. Flins was unique, he was such a gentleman to you and his way of speaking was very polished. You had gotten a phone call from one of your family members back from where you came from.
One day, you sat down on your shared bed. “Flins” You called out to him as he adjusted his uniform.. Finally finishing his shifts of the night he had, he raised an eyebrow. “Yes, my love?” Breaking the news to him was a shocker, one of your family members, to be more specific was your father had fallen ill. You need to catch a plane back as quick as you can, Flins being the most caring lover urged you to just book a flight as quickly as possible.
He stayed up that night, considering he doesn’t usually sleep, he secretly bought you a ticket for tomorrow night. He looked down on your sleeping figure beside him, snoring softly. He raises his palm to hold your cheek, then softly strokes your back, “Sleep well, love.” He whispered in your ear, even in your sleep you reacted scooting closer to his body.
The next day, Flins showed you the flight ticket as soon as you woke up. “You did all of this while I was asleep?” He nodded, easily offering you your favorite meal for breakfast. You huffed, “Man I lucked out for such an amazing boyfriend.” Already scooping up a bite and chewing the meal, He let out a small laugh. “It’s just breakfast, that's standard..” You grinned at his obliviousness. “Okay stop trying to woo me now..” He let out a small chuckle, “I am not.” “You so are..!”
Flins just smiled, “I’ll miss you.” He held onto you, his palm already resting on your back, rubbing the soft sliver of skin. “I’ll miss you too..!” You whined beside him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’ll be back before you know it..” You placed the spoon, eagerly toying with his chin. “Don’t miss me too much, mkay..!”
He couldn’t help himself, it was lewd, too dirty but you were so far away.. All the way at Liyue or was it Inazuma, he forgot how you smelled, how you felt. So here he was, phone in one hand, the other hand pulling down at his sweats. It wasn’t fair, the time difference, it was 12 pm at Nodkrai and it was probably early morning at your place. Flins always had a folder with just your pictures, what you didn’t know was— he kept another one, locked inside a passcode which was your birthday.
What was inside, well.. suggestive photos and videos you’ve either sent or taken in his phone. He looked down, it was a picture of you cladded in just a zipped up hoodie, his hoodie. That little sliver of cleavage made him throb in under a few seconds which was definitely record time. “My love.. forgive me—” He let the spit roll in his mouth before the sound was made in the dim room. His feverous tip was so swollen as he let out a small breath.
Even cupping his balls, gripping the base, it wasn’t enough for him, never enough when he just needed you. Flins must’ve reached a new low, cause he had to pull up a video of you just yapping his ear off at one of the dates they’ve gone. “Mmm..ngh.. Feels too good” It was so pathetic, his hand moved quickly trying to chase the thrill, even tightening his grip. He imagined it was your sloppy pussy around him, didn’t feel the same— not as warm and snug but it’s the next best thing.
“Ugh.. I miss you.. m-miss that pussy s’much..”
Nefer, she wasn’t the type to be hung up over such trivial matters, and yet here she is texting you even if she had work. Such a busy woman, the CEO for Curatorium of Secrets and also the only operator for the Northern Intelligence Network, was head over heels for you. You guys weren’t long distance.. It was surprising how you guys started dating online, haven’t met at all.
You were a well versed hacker and she needed information— of course she needed your expertise. The sound of the notification dinged in her work laptop. ‘Nefer..!! What’s my next course of action, honey (˶˃⤙˂˶)..!’ Your text is as enthusiastic as your personality, blatantly shown in the text.
Nefer was already swamped with her other work, her poor lover didn’t have work to do, no orders. Truth be told, Nefer was never a texter kind of person. Another notification popped again. ‘Are you ignoring me..?!! ( •̀ ᴖ •́ )’ Then a dozen notifs later, she finally groaned. Already dialing the number, “Quit it, you brat.”
You sank onto your lavish gaming chair, Nefer had bought out for you. “You weren’t replying, Nefer.” Your sweet voice finally replied to her back. She could hear you mindlessly typing away at that keyboard of yours, she also bought for you. “Can’t you see I’m busy, work has swamped me.” A sound of a chuckle could be heard at the other line. “Then take a break, who’s stopping you—” “I have another meeting set up in five minutes.” Then another notification dinged in her work laptop.
“Open my messages, honey..~” You cooed at the other line, and she could only sigh. “I swear if it’s another absurd tiktok of—” She could only swallow as the photo loaded up. It was clearly a picture of you, clad in that babydoll lingerie she had bought for you. Man, she spoiled you with gifts everyday. “Goodluck for your meeting, honey!” You teased once more, before ending the call. Such a tease you were, she couldn’t help but scoff as she gingerly got up to join the meeting.
Nefer couldn’t focus during the head-board meeting, so she hid her phone under the table. Eagerly replying to each text message you gave.
Nefer had a remote controlled vibrator, that only she could control just for you. She bumped it to just a level 3 as the ringtone came in. There you were, in all your glory, pushing the small thing right against your clit. “F-fuck.. Ne..fer!!” Your whines could be heard to the monitor, Thank god for the soundproof walls installed for her office. “You really had to tease me, during a corporal meeting, darling?” Her voice poised with such authority you couldn’t help but moan again.
“I missed you..” You hummed, eagerly shoving it inside as your fingers got to work, swirling your puffy clit. “P..plus you love the view no?” You eagerly looked at the camera of your phone. She could see you just lounge on that gaming chair as your desktop highlighted your figure. Nefer placed a hand under her chin as she watched. “Can’t even get off on your own huh? Such a slut.” “Your slut though—!”
“Cmon, aren’t you at least a bit wet watching me..?” Your voice cooed as your eyes met through the screen. She cranked up the level to a five as you choked on your voice, visibly jittering. “Shitshitshit.. So close..!!” Then she stopped the buzzing, you whined. “Ah.. you’re such a freak.. Edging me already..?” “Think of it as a lesson to be taught for sending nudes in broad daylight.” You could only giggle, “Hey.. atleast accompany me finger myself..” You brought out your fingers to your mouth, eagerly licking giving her a show.
“Oh I will, until I get you drenched over that poor monitor of yours.”
Synopsis: in which popular girl!reader is done with shitty players and wants to try the newest delicacy: virgin nerds. It’s game on to seduce the physics student, who seems more than ready to abandon his life of celibacy.
But their arrangement only works if they’re both on the same page. What happens when one expects a little more than sex?
Is it game over?
Warnings: eventual smut, plot with porn, fake dating trope, college au, no curses au, mean girl!reader, fem dom!reader, nerd!jo, subby!gojo, virgin!gojo, masochist!gojo, some angst but with a happy ending, very early 2000s romcoms, reader grows a lot (hate towards her will not be tolerated), reader gets humbled quite often here lol, chapter specific warnings will be listed on the chapter, some allusions to toxic/unhealthy relationships and coping, not proofread
Word Count: 41k
Gojo art by @/Leimiruu on X
Chapter ONE - Game start
Chapter TWO - Different levels
Chapter THREE - Boss fight
Chapter FOUR - Perfect victory
Disclaimers:
♤ COMPLETED
♤ Available on AO3.
♤ This is a mix of fluff, smut and angst, so minors/ageless blogs do not interact.
♤ Any comments hating on the reader in this story will be deleted and the user will be blocked. The story plays on the mean girl trope so you will see mean girl behaviour. Just know this is all intentional. If you are sensitive to a flawed female character, do not read. I know what some of you are like. I have played these games before.
♤ This is a college au separate from my EdenU au. Different Gojo and university setting altogether. Any semblance is coincidental.
♤ Every part of this is of my own work. No AI or external inspiration was used. Please do not repost this on Tumblr or on any other platform without credits. I do not give permission for this to be translated. And please do not feed my work into AI.
Synopsis: in which you're upset with your husband and won't respond to his messages, so he has to resort to contacting you during work hours... using your work emails
Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, playful arguing — no one's actually upset, features guests stars (one gets bullied).
Good morning, dear,
Or rather, it would be, if my wife so much as looked in my direction this morning. Instead, I find myself writing to you like some forgotten soul behind enemy lines, using this means of communication as if I am but a mere stranger begging for a moment of your time. It is humiliating. Your refusal to hear your husband out is noted and begrudgingly endured but I forgive you (see? It is not so hard at all).
Please just answer your messages. We have a data plan for a reason.
Love, always,
Your Kento
Hello Kento,
I hope you are well.
Please refrain from contacting me via my work email. It is inappropriate and annoyingly endearing. Let me be mad in peace. Thank you.
Best wishes,
Your Wife
Hello to you too, sweetheart,
I must admit your response is both upsetting and encouraging. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting you to respond at all. Of course, I wish your email was more welcoming but beggars and whatnot.
What must I do, my love?
I have apologised. Not once or twice, but countless times. So many times now it feels like ‘I’m so sorry’ were my first words. I rose early to prepare your favourite breakfast — drove clear across the city to find the precise ingredients (you and I both know there is only one acceptable brand of jam in this household). I plated it neatly, included a smiley face, just as you like it, though, I observed, it was met with a frown, thus defeating the spirit of these things.
Your work clothes were laid out, ironed with care and to perfection, if I may say so myself. I made sure the heating was on well before you awoke, so the chill wouldn’t bother you so — I’ve seen how cold mornings test your…patience, should we say. Your lunch was packed and ready, with a handwritten note tucked inside, although I’m sure you carelessly tossed it aside in your bid to destroy my will to live on a spiritual level. It was a new recipe, by the way. I hope it suits your taste. Do let me know. Perhaps by softening your glare when you arrive home since apparently smiles are beneath you.
Even last night, I relinquished the duvet entirely — though I must admit, it was less an offering and more a tactical surrender after you ripped it from my body without mercy. I woke up frozen, on the brink of pneumonia. Need I remind you, I am at a tender age?
And after all of that…
You walked past me.
Not a word.
Not even a glance.
You washed the dishes (which is, and I cannot stress this enough, my responsibility), and shoved my work clothes off the bed because — what was it? The sleeve was ‘encroaching’ upon your own and the cotton needed space because ‘husband air is toxic?’
That was particularly hurtful. Entirely uncalled for. My blazer may never recover.
Still, I could take it. I could take all of it. Because I admit my fault and I recognise my need to be punished.
But to leave without kissing me goodbye?
That, my love, was unconscionable.
A line crossed. A declaration of war. An admittance of lesser character. I am disappointed in you. Thus, I now join your unrelenting form on the S.S. Marital Displeasure. Let’s see how we fare at sea, together.
Yours, unwaveringly,
Kento— the husband you once swore never to abandon
P.S. Dinner is on me tonight. Please let me know what time you’ll be home.
P.P.S. You looked radiant this morning. Even in silence. Even in a mood. You’re still the most beautiful thing in the room.
Kento,
You infuriatingly adorable man.
All those things you listed about this morning are things you do everyday. I know that was supposed to guilt trip me, but that just annoyed me more cause I get it — you’re totally perfect and handsome and tall and you smell nice. Ugh, you’re the worst.
Lunch was yummy, by the way. Ten out of ten. The note, which I didn’t carelessly throw away mind you (that was very rude to assume, how dare you) telling me ‘you are loved even when you’re grumpy’ was not. I am not grumpy, Kento. I am aggrieved.
You have aggrieved me.
Also, don’t try to guilt trip me about the cover hogging. You run hot and you know we have a spare duvet in the closet. Many times now, I've begged you to take it because I know I have bad sleeping habits BUT you refused. You said, need I remind you, that you insist on sharing one to be as close to me as possible. Your words.
The work clothes thing was an accident. I didn’t mean to push it off, and I was trying to stay mad so I made up some lie. Tell your blazer I’m sorry. Tell its owner I will never forgive nor forget. You know what you did.
And I don’t want you to join my ship. We can’t both be on it. We’ll sink…damn that’s metaphorical. For your own good, get off now whilst you still can.
Lukewarm wishes,
Your Wife
P.S. I’ll be home later than you, I have some things to finish
P.P.S. There was only one other person in the room and that was you, and even then you were clearly the more beautiful one Mr. Wakes Up With A Five O’Clock Shadow And Silky Golden Locks. That pissed me off so much more. Try to be less perfect, thank you.
My dearest,
I’ve read your message precisely three times and still, I’m not entirely sure whether I’ve been forgiven or sentenced. However, I feel a sense of optimism, foolish or not.
Let me begin with your opening line: ‘infuriatingly adorable’— it is not quite a compliment but I accept it with caution regardless. I am adorable and I understand that you wish I wasn’t. As soon as possible, I will find a cure.
Moreover, in reference to my morning route, you’re right, of course. The tasks I listed are things I do every day. Not as some grand gesture, but because loving you — actively, attentively, without pause — is part of my daily routine. Like ironing my shirts or making my coffee. It’s muscle memory now. If I were to stop, I fear I might just malfunction and catch fire. That said, if you are aggrieved — not grumpy, as I so mistakenly suggested, please forgive me for that too — then I humbly bow to your deliverance, Lady Justice. Though I maintain that the distinction is rather blurry when you’re stomping past me with furrowed brows and lips pressed into a line sharp enough to cut marble, lips I dare say I wish I could kiss into their usual form.
Regarding the duvet — yes, I recall saying that. I stand by it. Even if I must freeze to death one night beneath your siege of unconscious theft, I would still rather reach out and find you beside me than not. You will indubitably note that that was unnecessarily dark, I’m sure, and you’ll then make a comment about the phase we shall not talk about that I went through in my youth.
Further, the blazer has accepted your apology. It insists you take it off me tonight. (Is that too forward? You usually love when I’m forward but I worry this will only enrage you more, likely in a way that will leave me dangerously sore. Perhaps that is what I intend. I cannot tell anymore. I just miss your touch).
As for the note, I didn’t assume you threw it away. I merely feared it. I know you well enough to know that even when you’re furious, you’re still gentle with the things I give you. It’s one of those things you do that melt my heart.
Lastly, your ship — this solitary vessel of marital vengeance — sounds lonely. It is precisely that reason however that I must stay aboard, respectfully.
With all my love,
Kento – your infuriatingly tall, overly warm, occasionally smug but entirely yours husband
P.S. I’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re home.
P.P.S. I will attempt to be less perfect, though I make no promises. I’ve spent years mastering my five o’clock shadow, it practically comes in on its own when it senses you’re at your most vulnerable. As for my silky, golden locks, I owe that to you and your hair mask. Thank you.
Kento.
I’ve read your message. Twice. Once dramatically, on break. Once again, aloud, with emphasis, so the plants in my office could also judge you. And I must say...
The audacity. The calm. The poetry. The charm.
Ugh. Disgusting. I hate how you win arguments by being emotionally intelligent and devastatingly eloquent. Stop.
Also, your blazer is so dramatic. I was always going to take it off you, that was never in question. And yes, I love when you're forward. I loved it just now. Reminds me of that time we snuck off into the janitor's closet and...
Moving on.
I will admit (reluctantly) that your words were very lovely, they usually are, and the image of you freezing like a noble idiot because you'd rather suffer than part from me for even a life-saving second was both tragic and romantic and exactly the kind of behaviour that makes staying mad at you basically impossible. I hate that for me.
But fine. F I N E.
You may stay aboard my metaphorical ship, provided you bring snacks and acknowledge that I am the captain and you’re just here for deck-swabbing privileges and forehead kisses. You’ll be handsomely rewarded ;)
Love, Your Wife
(Still aggrieved. But slightly less so. Like… 69% less.)
P.S. If you’re trying to seduce me via dinner, it’s working. You might get that kiss. Or two. Depends how good it is.
P.P.S. Don’t think I’d miss the opportunity to mention MCR Kento. Your past will haunt you forever.
Dear YN and Nanami Kento,
I hope you are both well.
Do forgive me for intruding but, as Head of HR and as your friend, I feel a need to remind you both that you are liaising using your work emails which are monitored by HR. Resolving marital disputes on company hours and company mail is not recommended nor permitted. Please set this aside for when you get home. I also wish to remind you that your offices are a short distance from each other. There doesn’t seem to be a need to be communicating via emails at all. From my desk, I have been watching you two write your emails with smiles on your faces.
I suspect neither of you are mad at each other at all. So, YN, please just forgive him already. He hasn’t done much work all day, whereas your productivity has somehow increased. We should probably hold a meeting to discuss both changes. I am concerned.
Lastly, your fight is distracting everyone. One colleague described it as ‘funny,’ another ‘sweet,’ and someone else called it ‘foreplay’ — I’m sure you understand why exactly I intervened. You are both already on two strikes. Please don't make me remind you of what exactly what happened the last two times. The company is still paying for therapy sessions for the affected employees.
Do better.
Best wishes,
Ijichi Kiyotaka
P.S. Why were you even mad? Did he forget an anniversary? Comment on your weight?
Dear Kento,
Did not realise the whole office was invested in this. No wonder the intern was giving me a look and Sharon from IT told me that she and her husband also fight like this to ’spice up’ their love life, and that its best when the husband gets mad too. TMI but appreciated. Are you even capable of getting mad at me?
Well, anyway, you heard the man. Let’s continue this conversation at home.
And Ijichi, I know you’re reading this, you Peeping Tom. I hope you know we’re going to make sweet, dirty love tonight. All night. Bring this up to the Big Boss, I dare you. I know you haven’t forgotten the huge favour you owe me for beating Gojo up when he needlessly sent you on errands around the city. Please stand up for yourself. Do better, as you say.
Kento, let’s go home together tonight. I need to apologise to your blazer as soon as possible and catch up on kisses expeditiously. In fact, expect a knock on your office door.
Love,
Your wife
Dear Nanami, and Ijichi because you're reading these,
He sat on my bunny plushie yesterday. He flattened her.
I'm mad again.
Hate,
YN
P.S. Hair mask rights have been revoked. Buy your own.
Dear wife and Peeping Tom colleague,
You have no appreciation for the work I put in to get back into my wife's good graces. All your disclaimers about simply doing your job were clearly written in deceit since your gossiping self could not resist prying. Do not think I haven't overheard you collecting bets on why she was mad at me in the break room.
Please expect Gojo's presence in your office with some new, overbearing task soon.
You're welcome.
Worst wishes (to Ijichi),
Nanami Kento
And nothing but love (to my wife),
Ken
Ken,
You're so hot when you're all assertive. Wanna get strike three? Preferably in your office, on your desk?
Gojo can distract everyone for an hour...or two.
Lust,
Your Wife
Dear Nanami, YN, and my favourite Peeping Tom,
This is what happens in the office?
Wow, maybe I should get a desk job (lol that's probably what Nanami's getting right now, lucky guy).
Can't believe I was slaving away, keeping the world safe, and you two were slacking off and getting it on. I'm expecting a baby Nanami soon. Make me the godfather pls pls pls
Stay sexy,
The Strongest
P.S. Can I watch?
P.P.S. I’m kidding
P.P.P.S. …Unless?