Can we appreciate just how valuable the month of October is for fandom? We’ve got whumptober, flufftober, inktober, kinktober and no one knows how many more and I LOVE IT
How do you feel about pretty woman au with Nanami hehehe
Idk if this is the same person but since I've gotten TWO asks about it, I might as well write a Pretty Woman AU for Nanami 💕
CW: sex worker reader, fem reader, implied smut, kind of a slow burn
So, I imagine it going like this: Nanami has this big event to go to for work and his coworker, Gojo, has been bugging him to get a date, and his parents have been on his ass for months about dating and finding a wife, and quite frankly Nanami is sick of it all.
What's his solution? Hire a sexworker for the week so he can go this dumb party to get Gojo off his back and go to dinner with his parents to get them off his back. Hopefully if they see you two together and he claims you're his girlfriend, they'll stop pestering him and meddling with his personal life. Killing two birds with one stone.
So, he hires you from an escort website. You're high end, "classy", pretty and negotiable, the perfect person to play the part of his girlfriend.
You two have lunch to settle the details a week beforehand. You agree to his terms—pretend to be his girlfriend for a few events, convince his family and coworkers that you've been dating for months—but you have some terms of your own.
"Sex has to be with a condom only," you say as you chew, already browsing the dessert menu. "No kissing, no sentimentality. Sex is sex, nothing more. I don't want you falling in love with me."
"I didn't plan on having sex with you," he replies, wiping his mouth with his cloth napkin. "I also don't plan on falling in love with you."
You scoff. "They all say that."
You're a bit crude at times, but otherwise you're a perfect fit. You agree to each other's terms. He sends you a large pdf file with important details about himself, details about "you", and details about your "relationship".
"Memorize this by next Friday. We'll be going to a party for my company, and then we'll have lunch on Saturday with my parents. They'll be in town for a week, so we'll be spending a day or two with them."
You hum, swallowing the chocolate mousse off your spoon. "You know, I expect to be paid by the hour..."
"I'll give you $50,000 for the whole week."
You almost choked on your dessert. You recovered quickly, covering your mouth, clearing your throat.
"Y-Yes... that..." You cleared your throat again, sitting up straight. "That seems agreeable."
He huffs, taking out his wallet, handing you a credit card.
"You'll need some proper clothes for these events. Don't worry about the cost; I won't take it out of your paycheck."
You take the card, eyeing the metallic rectangle.
"How do you not have a girlfriend?" He shrugs, picking up his wine glass.
"I don't have time for relationships."
"You clean up nice," he remarks as he meets you in the lobby of his apartment building. You smile, giving a twirl.
"Don't ask me how much it was."
"Wasn't planning on it." He holds out his arm for you and you grab it, walking out of the building together. You reach his car, and you're off into the night.
"You left your bags at the front desk, correct?"
"Yep," you reply, popping the 'P' at the end of the word. "I had to buy another suitcase to bring everything."
"That's fine," he replies. "The guest room is ready for you. We'll have to share a bathroom, but the guest room is all yours for the week."
You hum slyly, tiptoeing your fingers along his thigh.
"You sure you don't want to share a bed with me?"
He sighs, taking your hand, linking your fingers together.
"I told you. I'm not looking for sex."
"Mmm, alrighty then," you say, leaning back in your seat. "I'm just trying to make this realistic."
"It'll be fine if you memorized everything I sent you—"
"I did, I did." You squeeze his hand, causing him to glance at you. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. I won't mess up."
He nods, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. The small action makes you shiver slightly, but he doesn't seem to notice.
"Huh?! A girlfriend? When did this happen?" Gojo exclaims, almost dropping his champagne. You laugh girlishly, wrapping yourself around Nanami's arm.
"We've been together for almost six months now. Isn't that right, honey?"
"Yes, dear," Nanami replies calmly, sipping his wine. "Six months on the 21st."
"Oh, you're so much better at dates than I am! This is why I like you." His lips twitch into a smile as Gojo scoffs.
"Damn, Nanami. Who knew you were keeping such a cutie all to yourself this whole time? You should've brought her to the New Year's party! You would've had a blast."
"I don't—"
"Oh, shit, hold that thought: the president's coming over." Gojo takes your free hand, kisses it swiftly. "Nice to meet you, lovely. Call me when you dump this sack of wet laundry."
"Hey—"
"Okay, bye!" he replies quickly, rushing off to another part of the room so he could avoid the president. Nanami sighed, watching his colleague run away, shaking his head.
"For the record," you start, putting your empty glass on a waiter's nearby tray, "I don't think you're a sack of wet laundry."
"That's kind of you, but it's alright. Most of my coworkers think I'm boring."
"You're not boring," you reply, facing him. "Serious, definitely serious, but not boring."
"How sweet of you to say." He finds himself smiling when you laugh genuinely. He looks you over once again, one of many times that night. "That dress suits you."
"Why thank you! I got some help from the girl who was working. She said it would 'accentuate my curves'."
Nanami hums softly. "It does."
You feel your cheeks warm and you clear your throat, adjusting his tie.
"I've got an even cuter dress for tomorrow. It's pink with flowers and a pretty ribbon around the waist." Nanami lets you fiddle with his tie for a bit, smiling softly at your nervous behavior.
"I'm sure you'll look stunning."
"Oh, she's a doll, Kento, just a doll!" his mother exclaimed, patting your hand and smiling at you. "I can't believe you kept her from us to long!"
"I wanted to make sure she was worth meeting," Nanami replied, lacing his fingers with yours, smiling at you when you smiled at him.
"But still, she's such an angel. Oh, I wish we could've met you sooner, sweetie. Don't you think so too, dear?" Her husband nodded, focused on cutting into his steak.
"It's wonderful to finally meet you," you said to Nanami's mother. "Ken has told me so much about you. I heard you were the inspiration for his love of cooking!"
"Aw, Kenny, you flatter me, dear," she cooed towards her son. "Oh, but I can't take all the credit. Kento has loved food ever since he was small. I remember him staring in awe at the TV whenever Gordon Ramsey was on—"
"Mother—"
"Oh, don't be shy about it, pumpkin! He was so cute when he was little, eyes glued to the TV when Kitchen Nightmares came on. Oh, don't get me started on all the different cooking shows he would watch—"
"Mom!"
You laughed at their exchange, covering your face when you snorted, making the rest of the table laugh as well. Nanami didn't think you'd have such a cute laugh—there was quite a bit about you that he found himself enjoying within the last two days.
"Oh, jeez... Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies' room," you spoke after a moment, getting up and gingerly leaving the table. Nanami watched you leave, staring at your hips sway back and forth.
"She's a real catch," his mother spoke up, eyeing him. He cleared his throat, nodding and grabbing his drink.
"Yeah. She's great."
"Are you going to propose?"
He chokes on his drink, struggling to clear his throat. "W-We've only been together for half a year."
"Your father proposed to me after half a year." Nanami rolled his eyes, glancing at the restrooms, hoping you'd return quickly.
"That was a different time, Mom. People don't get together that quickly anymore."
She clicked her tongue. "You shouldn't judge a relationship based on how long it is, Kento. Some of the best relationships are the shortest."
He pondered over her words, watching you stop at a table, vaguely hearing you compliment a woman's dress. He stared at you, feeling his mouth go dry.
"So we're having dinner on Wednesday, golf on Thursday, and they leave on Friday?"
"Yes," Nanami replied, glancing through some reports before looking up at you. You were in his fluffy bathrobe, hair wet, rubbing lotion over your hands as you stared out at the city. You looked ethereal after a shower, your face glowing under the low light of the room.
"I'm not a fan of golfing," you speak up, making a face.
"You don't have to be," he replies, putting down his papers and standing up, walking towards you. "You can just sit in the golf cart and drink a mimosa and look pretty."
You snorted, laughing that sweet laugh he had come to adore. He stopped at your side, meeting your smile with his own. You clapped your hands, turning to him. You ran a hand over his vest, fumbling with the edge.
"You always look so official. Don't you have sweatpants?"
"I do, but I don't usually wear them when I have company."
"Mm, you should. You should be nice and comfy when you're at home. You should relax."
"I can't relax. I have some work to do."
"Boooooo." You undo his vest, tugging it off his shoulders. "Work can wait. Cmon, go get in your comfy clothes and let's watch a movie."
He snickers, letting you pull off his vest and start unbuttoning his shirt. You were lighthearted until you were halfway down: that's when you stopped. You paused, opening his shirt ever so slightly, revealing his muscular chest. You stared for a moment, feeling your body warm up before you suddenly pulled away, clearing your throat. You handed him his vest, giving a flat smile.
"I'm gonna... go pick a movie."
"...Y/N—"
You rushed past him, moving towards the living room.
"Hurry up! If you're not quick I'm gonna choose something you'll hate."
Nanami stood there for a moment, moving a hand towards his exposed chest, briefly wishing that your soft hands had lingered a bit longer.
The rest of the week went on without a hitch. Everywhere you went, everyone adored you. Everyone was convinced that you and Nanami were an item; you had them all fooled.
But the entire time... you found yourself growing fond of the man who hired you. You found yourself falling for him the better you got to know him. You knew it was wrong, it went against your own rules, but he was too good to be true.
"Can I say something?" you asked Thursday night, the day before your last day with him.
"Go for it," he said from the other side of the couch, reaching for the popcorn between you. You paused, weighing your words.
"I wish... I wish we had met under different circumstances." He frowned, glancing at you.
"What do you mean?"
"I..." You fiddled with your hands. "I mean that... I wish you hadn't hired me. I wish we had just met in a coffee shop or something."
He scoffed. "Why's that?"
You couldn't respond. You just looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. Nanami watched you for a minute before clearing his throat.
"Can I say something as well?"
"Shoot," you whispered, still not looking at him. He cleared his throat, inhaling deep.
"I feel the same." You glanced up quickly, watching him stare ahead. "I wish I had met you under different circumstances as well."
Your breath caught in your throat. "Do you mean... you wish I wasn't a prostitute—"
"No," he cut you off quickly, looking at you. "I wish I had met you at a dinner party so I could enjoy your company without having to pay you, so I could ask you out properly."
The two of you sat in silence for a bit, staring at each other. Nanami sighed, moving the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table, scooting closer to you.
"Can I ask you a favor?"
You swallowed. "What?" He stared at you hard, thinking.
"May I break one of the terms of our agreement?"
"Which... which one?"
Another pause.
"May I kiss you?"
You woke up late in the morning, in his bed, wearing his t-shirt. You could smell something divine, hear sizzling from the other room. You eventually slid out of bed, padding your way into the kitchen.
"You're up early." Nanami scoffed, flipping a pancake.
"Ten a.m. is not early."
"It is for me." He laughed quietly, humming when you wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning into his back. "You didn't have to make me breakfast."
"I wanted to," he replied. "You should eat something before we meet my parents at the airport."
"Could've just had cereal."
"True, but still..." You hummed, trailing your fingers over the waistband of his sweatpants.
"You just wanted me to eat your cooking, huh?"
He sighed, grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "Maybe."
You giggled, burying yourself into his back, kissing over his shoulder blades.
"You're cute, ya know?"
"I don't think so, but thank you."
You sat down at the dining table, sharing pancakes, fruit compote, and coffee.
"So..." Nanami began, "we broke the your terms of our contract."
"Yeah..."
"...Is it bad that I don't regret it one bit?" You smiled softly.
"No. I feel the same."
"You do?" he asks hopefully, grabbing your hand tenderly.
"Yeah..." You took a deep breath. "Is it bad that I don't want this week to end?"
"No, no, I... I don't want it to end either."
You sat in silence, holding each other's hands.
"Y/N," Nanami spoke, sitting up a bit straighter. "Would you go out with me?"
You felt your heart swell, your throat closing up as you nodded quickly.
"Yes, yes!" You practically leaped into his arms, hugging him tight. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling away. "But I wanna take things slow."
"Yes."
"And I want to stay in my own apartment. I love your place, but I don't think we should move in together yet."
"Understood."
"And I don't want you to spoil me like you have all week."
He sucked in a breath, scrunching his face.
"I don't know if I can do that."
"Kento."
"It's not my fault you deserve to be spoiled."
"Okay, okay... just dial it back a bit. Don't send me on shopping sprees."
"Alright. I'll just surprise you with gifts."
"Ken!"
TALK ABOUT SUDAN
Sudan-a country located in northeastern Africa at the southern edge of Sahara- has been facing an ongoing civil war since April 15th of 2023. About 13,000 citizens have been killed, including children, elderly, woman, and men. More than 8 million citizens have been displaced. About 70,000+ children are facing life-threatening malnutrition, the numbers are steadily increasing. The war in Sudan is triggering the ‘world’s largest hunger crisis.’
It’s a civil war between two rival factions of the military government of Sudan, the Sudanese armed forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). Even before the war started, the Sudanese governed was in complete shambles. In almost daily protests for peace and justice, at least over 50 citizens would be killed ‘accidentally’ (they would have bullet wounds in their heads, chests, and other vital areas), women would be kidnapped and harassed by the ‘RSF’, children and citizens would randomly go missing only to be found in underground freezers meant to be used for fruits and other resources.
Right now, more than 25 million people are facing starvation and dangerous disease. We’re almost 11 months into Sudan war, yet not many people are speaking about this. Please take your time to open the link down below, you don’t even need to donate, just share the link to other people who might be able to.
Here
mirror sex with nanami, kitchen sex with nanami, bathroom sex with nanami, car sex with nanami, hotel sex with nanami, hot tub sex with nanami, sex in the office with nanami, sex on a boat with nanami
missionary on the bed with nanami, bent over the kitchen counter in doggy with nanami, on top of the couch riding nanami, under the table blowing nanami, 69-ing sideways with nanami
sitting on nanami's face, getting fucked by nanami's fingers, vibrator against your clit in nanami's grip, getting your clit licked by nanami's tongue, wrapping your legs around nanami's waist, getting impaled by nanami's cock
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — the story of las vegas’s biggest bootlegger & his favorite burlesque dancer.
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — she/her pronouns, i guess sugar daddy nanami but like reader and him around the same age sooooo, reader is black, nanami lowkey a simp in this tbh, set in the 20’s, racism mentioned, slight voyeurism, creampie, usage of alcohol, usage of drugs (cigarettes), slight history inaccuracy, slight timeskip where reader + nanami are in their 30’s, but in flashback they’re in their 20’s, yes i know i’d rather go blind didn’t get released until the 60’s but i kept listening to it during one scene i wrote in this lol, flashback is in italics, the story told in third pov, wc: 5.3k minors dni pls !!
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — @earlesskitten ’555 collab event’, congrats once again on your milestone.
Keep reading
reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something
every "fights with ___ x reader" fic starts so srs and vague and i get a little scared to find out what they're fighting ab and it's always something like this 😭
thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
no one ever talks about the sheer number of sea slugs. there’s so fucking many. so many i could never fit them all in one post. this image contains literally like 1% of them if even. you could give a four year old a ten pack of markers and a piece of paper and tell them to scribble any design with any colors they want and it would probably resemble a sea slug somewhere out there. they’re so fucking awesome. Love it
i mean this from the bottom of my heart: no one is impressed by your loud ass car. actually we talked about it and we all want you dead.
i saw somewhere that gege wanted to write jjk more like csm, w a govt agency employing sorcerers instead of the school and i #needthat someone pls write that bc if i do i won't finish it