#( div : @cafekitsune )

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #02. XXX!

𐙚 topic。．hcs of random things that turn on hsr men

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive content, i wrote this with no brain, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and blade. I wanna write for my bootyhill but i need to study him more to get a grip of him lol

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ rebuking his argument in a fight

。i js know he would go crazy when you do this 。he’d find people who just agree with him as boring. To him it may look even insincere 。but you? countering his smartly crafted arguments with irresistible logic with your pretty brain, glaring at him as you do with those adorable eyes? 。this man would go from being mad to being horny. tbh he would have probably already been horny in the argument 。nobody can be more masochistic than he is

“ARE YOU STUPID?” You glare at your boyfriend who looks nonchalant as he idly examines the coin between his fingers. “Fucking look at me. Do you know what happens when you join forces with them? You’re just risking the IPC and it will eventually lead to your unfortunate befall.”

You continue barreling on furiously with concrete points. Every time you prove him wrong, his eyes dance and he tries his hardest to bite back the grin that plays at his lips as you rant on. You are so perfect, he thinks- he is nonetheless impressed at you, your wondrous little brain. Something snaps inside of him when he sees you focused on derailing his points, your lips moving quickly to spit out syllables. He feels a loud moan caught in his throat.

“I get it, I’m sorry, princess, I won’t do it.” he suddenly surrenders and you eye him suspiciously as he advances, hands sneaking up to your back. “Let’s talk this out in bed, ‘m gonna apologize to you there.” He says softly, giving you lovely kisses along your neck but the way his fingers dig into your skin lets you know he’s not going to wait any longer.

And you will be confused as hell, because although you did win the argument, you feel like you just lost something else, a hidden little game he never taught you the rules to.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ whipped cream on your lips

。hear me out… i have a gut feeling he likes it a little too much 。ik it’s totally random but he will go nuts when he sees you bite down a particularly creamy cake that promptly smears its remains over your mouth- he tries to think of something more dignified, but he just can’t. His poor brain keeps returning to the most vulgar visuals of you. 。he will always point out whatever you had near your mouth when you two eat, because he’s such a clean freak, but anything with cream, specifically white whipped cream, he will be unable to comment on it and fall weirdly silent to he point you are confused why you not hear his scolding to wipe your mouth. 。he’ll just watch you eat dessert with a smile on your face as you savor the taste innocently. Unfortunately his brain is not, and he will start to feel his cock struggle under the fabric. 。”you have cream over your mouth, sweetheart. should i clean it for you?” he’ll sound restrained, like he’s being choked but his expression doesn’t waver. 。and after he found out his new obsession, he will literally only buy you huge whipped cream cakes for dessert.

“THE CAKE HERE IS SO GOOD.” You savor the taste happily and dig into the whipped cream cake and eat without much care. “Where’s it from?”

Sunday is too busy staring at you to register that. The creamy ring around your pink lips. It bothers him in a bad way. It’s making him feel like he is out of breath. His wings flicker wildly like a cooling fan, trying to blow off the heat that suddenly started to build inside his stomach like a raging primal flame that’s trapped by his own conscience.

You tap his shoulder gently and he snaps back to reality and tries to stare at your eyes instead, yes, lovely eyes, he thinks- your words phase in and out as he gulps, darting his eyes back to the cake.

“…the brand? The cake brand?” You ask again, frowning at his silence.

“Ah, yes, sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking of something else for a moment.” He breathlessly apologizes, the words spilling out a little too quickly like an excuse that makes your frown deepen in confusion— he closes his eyes and opens them again so the heat will ebb away. But his plans are obliterated when you take a portion of the cake and eat it, all while looking at him in the eye with curious doe eyes.

That’s when he can’t restrain himself anymore. He suddenly seizes your chin with his gloved hand, making you squeal in surprise when he practically devours your lips, licking up the cream residue around them roughly before shoving it inside your mouth with his tongue. The sweet cream melts when it gets to your mouth, mixing with his saliva that dips down your chin to make messy thick lines.

“It was from a shop at Golden Hour. I hope you like the taste,” he’d say as if he didn’t just feast on your mouth like a starved beast. “Me personally, i think it’s a tad too sweet.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE ⇢ treating his wounds

。it’s ironic because Blade doesn’t want to be healed at all 。but how could he refuse you you’re frantically at his door with an emergency kit, worry written all over you- you are like a cute puppy that keeps following him around. 。he lets you do it reluctantly at first, grumbling about it inwardly 。but when you lift up his shirt with no hesitation to put gauze to soak in the blood, his muscles tense visibly, when your touch ghosts over his skin like tiny little lilies blooming in their wake. 。what have you done to him? He feels nothing but tension and something he didn’t want to register, something a little too pleasant to him. 。and at some point he will actually look forward to having his would treated by you. He still likes pain, but he likes your touch drifting over his bruised skin like an innocent butterfly way more.

“DOES IT HURT?” You softly pat the ointment around another fresh scar on his broad chest. It pains you to see that most of the scars are near his heart. You sigh like a worried mother. “You worry me.”

“I enjoy it,” he grunts in response, but his brain ran a quick recap. Enjoy what? The pain? Or your smooth touch?

“Stay still,” you say, and he does, as you carefully squeeze in another ointment into an ugly looking scar. His eyes never leave you the whole time, his muscles tense at the pain but otherwise he’s relaxed. His intimidating stare makes you scared a little, considering this mysterious man didn’t speak his mind often.

“I think that’s it,” you say, quickly trying to lower Blade’s shirt back- but the man grabs your wrist mid-action. You jump, confused. His eyes are unreadable but he states, “You’re not done.”

you frown in puzzlement. “I double-checked, im pretty sure I didn’t miss a spot.”

He lifts his shirt up and with his bandaged finger, cuts open the scar you just treated for him, making it ooze another layer of fresh blood around the dried wound. His lips form a rare smirk as he looks at your wide-eyed stare.

“There, you have a new wound to work on.”

He will do that until you are out of ointment, and the next day he will come visit you first this time with another set of fresh scars.

[kasiers]

BE WITH YOU — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: the summer heat had its own way of being relentlessly cruel, though nothings more cruel to satoru than realizing he's fallen for you

contains: gn!reader, just pure fluff, gojo adores reader, mutual pining, did i mention fluff

word count: 0.6k

Exactly when did Satoru know he liked you? Like isn’t even close to putting it, maybe he’d go as far as to say he loved you. 

He’s the strongest, he’s cocky at times sure. And he knows that, he doesn’t just love anybody let alone like them. 

Was it during the Tanabata festival? Or was it during the Floating Lantern festival? Oh he was wrong, he knew exactly when he started loving you.

His memory jolts back to that one summer day, under a tree together cooling down. At the time you were both just friends. Or so you kept telling yourselves.

Satoru occasionally let out pants and heaves. In an attempt to cool down, he took a fistful of his shirt and pulled it away from his body. Repeatedly fanning it back and forth to create a breeze against his skin.

You did the same, except you were fanning yourself with your hands. Your back was pressed against the tree bark, sitting down on the grass.

His eyes glance over to you, watching the way you cooled down. He couldn’t help but smile at your determination, even in the cruel heat.

"You practicing for a run or something?," he teased, his tone light but his azure eyes betrayed him.

You laughed softly, the sound like a soothing melody to his ears. "Shut up. You look worse than I do," you retorted. 

Satoru’s smile widened, but inside, he felt something he wasn’t used to. He felt a strange tightening feeling in his chest, he had always been confident, always sure of himself. But something about you made him feel... different. More human, more real.

He observed as a bead of sweat trailed down your forehead, your skin glowed under the spots of sunlight filtering through the leaves. He noted the way the sun caught in your hair as well. Your lips looked soft as you smiled slightly, he admired the expression you wore despite the heat. 

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

It was in that stillness that Satoru realized the embarrassing truth. He didn’t just like you, he was utterly and hopelessly in love with you. The realization hit him like a train, his heart beating fast, he swore that if it wasn’t for the rustling leaves, you’d be able to hear it. 

For someone who had always prided himself on being the strongest and being untouchable, this feeling was overwhelming. Satoru Gojo, the one who was always in control, found himself utterly whipped. It was like he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you, and he couldn’t believe how blind he had been until now.

You glanced over, catching his intense gaze. “Something on my face?” you asked.

He snapped out of his absent mindness, trying to play it cool. “Nah,” he replied, though his voice betrayed a slight tremor. “Just a leaf on your hair.”

You raise an eyebrow, stopping to fan yourself for a quick moment to brush your hair. Irritation visible on your face as you lightly smack his leg, “Liar!” 

Satoru chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, just messin’ with ya.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile creeping up on your lips as you continue fanning yourself.

He watched your reaction, and for a moment longer the realization settled in deeper. He was in love with you and it terrified him. He didn’t know he was capable of  feeling vulnerable, admitting to feelings that he had never allowed himself to acknowledge. But with you, it felt right.

To him, it was the most real thing ever.

He didn’t need to be the strongest right now, he just needed to be with you. 

For now, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

a/n: i really liked this one, i think it might just be one of my favorites that i've ever written.. this one is a bit short but its good :3

[marlair]

this is johnny i’m not an nct member im your husband

✎ᝰ. The Struggle really is real— OR, in which your CrushTM finds out about your spam account with multiple tweets dedicated to them.

𑁤. the timestamps mean nothing , i’m just too tired to change them :| i had to change the plot of this midway cs i got to 30 photos too quick { cw multiple freaky jokes }

gn!reader (implied m!reader on vil’s part but its referencing a meme) + reader is yuu

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

KALIM AL-ASIM

VIL SCHOENHEIT

IDIA SHROUD

MALLEUS DRACONIA

[vezpr]

｡•*⁀➷₊· ➛ toxic.

SUKUNAxF!READER ☽☾ COLLEGE AU ☽☾ ONESHOT ☽☾ AO3

☽☾ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Gojo shows you a video of your boyfriend, Sukuna, making out with another girl at a party, so you decide to get revenge. Poor Nanami.

��☾ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+MINORS DNI, smut, porn with feelings (not necessarily good feelings), angst, sukuna x reader, nanami x reader, ft gojo for as long as I can stand him :b, human Sukuna, college au/ no powers, toxic/ mutually abusive relationship dynamics, cheating, spanking, hate fucking, face slapping, throat fucking, hair pulling, light choking, no aftercare, degradation, name calling, drug and alcohol use mentioned, size difference, oral sex, piv sex, I suck at tags

☽☾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

"Satoru, can you at least pretend not to enjoy this, please," you say, holding your phone away from your face as it rings. 

The man is glowing, his lanky frame sprawled across of one of the mismatched sofas in his apartment, one boot propped on a coffee table littered with the controlled chaos of his studies. He looks as if his head might actually explode with the force of unexpelled I-told-you-so's. "He's an asshole. I told you that before you ever hooked up, right? Forget him!"

"Damnit," you hiss, pausing in your frantic pacing long enough to redial your asshole boyfriend's number after being sent to his full mailbox half a dozen times. 

"Why don't you try cool down a little before you talk to him," Nanami says from the opposite side of the room where he sits hunched forward, elbows on his knees, watching you pace. Always the reasonable one. "Nothing productive can possibly come of talking to him while you're like this."

You shoot the blonde man a withering glare, but hit the end button on the call, shoulders sagging, chin to chest as you cross to his side of the room. "I know you're right, Nanami," you reply as you slump, defeated, onto the sagging cushion next to him. He clears his throat when you splay your legs and your knee brushes his. You lean your head against the back of the couch and turn your face towards him, lips pursed in a pout as you feel the stinging threat of tears in your eyes. "It's just that... right now, I don't feel like I can cool dow-"

You sit bolt upright as your phone buzzes in your hand. The screen lights up with his face, framed in soft salmon waves that contrast with the hard black lines of tattoos tracing the angle of his jaw. You've been together for a year, practically moved in together right away, and still, even the digital representation of his garnet eyes makes your heart stutter just like it did the first time you saw him. 

"Hey, I really don't think you should-" Nanami begins.

"Sukuna," you answer, rising from the couch and crossing the arm that isn't holding the phone to your ear over your ribcage, as if that will prevent your heart from beating out of your chest.

"Who are you with," he asks, apparently hearing Nanami, who continues to lecture you in the background. But, fuck, if the rasp of his voice doesn't make your insides squirm in a way they definitely shouldn't right now.  Why do you have to be so hopelessly obsessed with him?

You shoot your friend a pleading look and wave your hand at him. He sinks back into the couch, shaking his head, but he shuts up. 

"Who's throat did you have your tongue down last night," you demand, voice rising already. When your question is met with silence, you add, "Go- someone showed me a video."

"Nothing happened," he replies, his voice steady and calm, as if he were ordering a coffee, which really makes you start to lose your shit.

"Do. not. fucking gaslight me right now. It was you, I fucking saw-"

"I mean nothing happened after that. You didn't see a video of me fucking anybody. Didn't even hear about the possibility of me fucking anybody. Because I didn't fuck anybody. I mean, shit, I got home before you." He pauses and your heart starts to slow just a little. Maybe it really didn't go any farther than that.  Maybe this doesn't have to be a big deal... but then he opens his stupid mouth again.  "Couldn't stay hard because of the molly."

"Fuck you, Sukuna," you scream-sob, holding the phone under your chin. "Fuck you! If you were here I'd slap your motherfucking face so goddamn hard I swear to god!"

He laughs, of course. "Calm down, baby. I'm kidding. I knew that white-haired prick was watching my every fucking move. I just did it to piss you off after you left with that blonde guy that's always limping after you like a lost puppy."

You glance up at Nanami, wondering if he heard, but he is studiously examining his cuticles. Even Gojo looks uncomfortable as he busies himself with straightening the papers on his desk, his luminous eyes peeking at you through the platinum locks that have fallen over his forehead in the process.

"I left because you were so fucking high. Laughing at everything, grinding your teeth like a crackhead, going on and fucking on about how you feel like a god among men or somevweird shit like that. It's embarrassing as hell! I ask you to go to one little party-"

"Exactly, you bitched and moaned until I agreed to hang out with your loser friends - who just so happen to all be men that want to fuck you-" 

He is getting loud now, apparently loud enough for your companions to hear because Gojo, with a flourish of his wrist, cheerfully interjects, "I don't want to fuck you."

"Shut up Satoru," Nanami hisses.

"-It's like you get off parading yourself around them in front of me... but I digress. My point is that I don't know what the hell would make you think I would be willing to endure that shit sober."

"Oh, so now it's my fault you fucking cheated on me?"

He's quiet for a minute and you hear him sigh into the receiver. "I got a question for you. You didn't get home til late, where were you?"

"Well, I was hungry so we stopped to get something to eat..."

"For like... had to have been at least four hours?"

"I guess we lost track of time talking..."

"Talking. Okay. Well that sounds fucking fantastic, babe but-"

"Well at least I didn't tongue wrestle him in front of half the fucking campus!"

"You know what... I can't do this now, I'm at work. That whimsical motherfucker had all day to start this shit and of course he waited until I'm at work. When I get home tonight, we're gonna have a nice long chat. Maybe not four hours but..."

"I'm not going to be home when you get home tonight."

Another tense silence. "Don't fuck with me, babe. You really don't wanna do that."

"Don't fuck with me, babe!" You echo in a shrill, mocking tone. "You know what kind of people say that? 'Don't fuck with me?' Weak, scared little bitches. And you should be scared, because you're never gonna find somebody who will want your worthless, piece of shit ass like I did. Ever."

"Baby."

"Please fuck with me, babe, find out what fucking happens," you spit out before hanging up on him. 

When your phone vibrates, you're still rooted to the spot. You lift your shaking hands to read the message.

you better be there when I get home

You scoff. 

"Nanami, can I stay with you tonight?"

He had been watching you, but now his eyes slide away behind the glare reflecting off his glasses. "You really think that's a good idea?"

"Please? I don't want to be home and I don't want to be alone," you must look quite pathetic, because he nods begrudgingly.

"Great," says Satoru. "This man has been needing to get laid for decades."

"Shut up, Gojo," you and Nanami both say at once.  

You look at your phone, as you had approximately every  ten seconds since you left Satoru's apartment, but nothing from Sukuna. He wouldn't be off from his job until almost midnight, anyway. Maybe he really doesn't care what you do. You pull down the menu from the top of the screen and hover your finger over the location toggle. Nah, let him suffer, you think to yourself as you decide to leave it on. Or come get me if he actually gives a fuck.  Sliding the device into your back pocket, you walk up the driveway to Nanami's door and knock.

Although he is the same age as the rest of your friend group, the man has his shit significantly more together than anyone else. He had skipped most of the partying, failing, switching majors, and the rest of the general fuckery and graduated first. Got himself a good job, something to do with stocks. He's got a mortgage, while the rest of you are struggling to pay rent. He's too good for the rest of you, truth be told. 

Too good for you. But he doesn't seem to know it.

"Hey," you say with a tight smile when he lets you in. "I come bearing gifts," you hold up a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. There's actually another one in the trunk, just in case.

You do end up retreiving it after the first one is empty. The man is wound tight like a spring. And you swear he clears his throat everytime you accidentally brush against him grabbing food from the coffee table, or refilling you glasses. What does that mean? You wonder silently.

You're pretty sure neither of you are watching whatever movie is playing. You don't even remember what it's called.  Gradually you notice that he relaxes, softens into the couch, turns his head to look at you, smiles a little. You smile back. It's easy to just be with Nanami like this, quiet.

"You sleep with those on," you tease, poking his calf with a socked toe.

He looks down, "What my shoes? No." He smiles, warm. Tipsy maybe, both of you. 

You laugh softly. "Take em off. You live here, you know."

He shrugs and toes them off. "Happy?"

"No," you deadpan.

His smile falters and you laugh.

He lets his head fall against the back of the couch and rolls his eyes. Looks at you and smiles again. "I don't drink much," he says.

"I know," you scoot closer, knees pressing into his thigh. "You drunk?"

He looks down at the point of coat, then back into your eyes. "No. Are you?"

"Nope." You reach out and lift his glasses off of his face.  He lets you. Doesn't even clear his throat or look away. When you lean back to set them on the coffee table, you begin to lose your balance, but he catches you around the waist and pulls you back.

"You sure?" He asks, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

"I'm sure," you smile, reaching for his tie. "Don't you ever get comfortable?" You ask, loosening it. 

"Not really," he says, pulling you towards him. 

"Hm," you hum, straddling his lap as you pull the tie free from his collar. You smile at how nonchalant the two of you are, as if this isn't happening. Like he didn't pull you into his lap. Like you aren't brushing a blonde fall of hair off of his forehead as he looks up at you, honey eyes half-lidded. Like his hands haven't slid under the hem of your tank top, warming the skin of your back.

You're just friends. Yeah. Just talking.

His mouth is warm and soft, wine-tart. He smells like cedar and ocean salt. When you hear your phone ping softly, he's got a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to press his mouth into your neck, tongue gentle against the tender flesh. No teeth. Without looking you know the unique little tone means your device has been gps located. You moan when he pulls the strap of your tank top down and takes your nipple in his mouth. You hadn't worn anything under that. 

Oops.

You had been working on the buttons of his shirt, palms sliding across his pecs. He pulls away to let you slip it off. "I could take care of you," he says, breathless, as he loosens his watch and works his hands out of the sleeves. "You wouldn't have to ever have another day like you had today."

"I know," you say as you wrap around each other, mouths fastened together, moving like you have years rather than just the next handful of moments. Him the living sea, rolling over you, the shore, a dead thing made of dirt. I can take care of you, his hands whisper. Your atrophied heart clenches, and, for a moment, you wish it could be true.

A car door slams outside. 

He pulls away and looks at you, ugly realization dawning in his eyes. "Oh," he nods grimly. "I get it."

He sighs raggedly and shakes his head as pushes you off of his lap gently. His hands a soft suggestion, unlike Sukuna's demanding touch. You feet hit the floor just as the first splinters fly from the doorframe.

How many kicks, you think bizarrely of a little cartoon owl with a sucker. How many kicks does it take to break down Nanami Kento's door? Three. Three kicks.

You are frantically feeling in between the couch cushions for your discarded top when Sukuna shoulders through the broken door. 

"It was unlocked, jackass," you hear Nanami say, "That's gonna be expens-" then a couple of thumps, the soft crush of bone and cartilage, and the loud thud of a body crumpling to the floor.

Trying to pull Sukuna off of him is like trying to move a mountain. You pull at him and scream in your panic sharpened voice, "Please, Kuna, stop! Please stop! Don't hurt him!" Although, you can see that it's too late for that. 

You reel backward when he rounds on you, but you need not worry about falling. He catches you by the hair and pulls you up. He looms over you, his vastness swallowing you like his pupils swallow the blood of his irises in the blue flickering light from the television. He is every inch the monster you know he can be. "Don't fucking call me that, woman," he growls into your ear.

You crumple to the floor when he lets you go. "Been too soft on you, brat," he toes at Nanami's limp form before stalking to the coffee table. "Gonna have to re-educate you. Lucky i don't just fucking destroy you both." He picks up an empty wine bottle and hurls it at the TV. The crash has you flinching as the screen spiderwebs and the speakers sputter. His belt buckle clinks as he unfastens it and your cunt drools like pavlov's dogs at the sound. You wonder if he knows how completely he has you.

You watch wordlessly as he pulls himself out of the fly of his jeans and pisses all over the flickering set. He turns his gaze on you and tucks himself away. The leather of his belt hisses against denim as he pulls it free of the loops.

"Now what am I going to do with you," he says, stalking towards you, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily trailing the belt behind him. The grin on his face is cold and sharp as a knife edge. He must be feeling better already. 

He brushes past you and seats himself on the arm of the couch.  Elbow on the back of it, he leans his cheek against his fist as he looks down at you. "Come here," he says.

You look over at Nanami's limp form. You can just see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

"Don't look at him. He can't help you. Never could. Now, I won't say it again. Come. Here."

You begin to get to your feet.

"No," he says, eerily calm, and you freeze midway to your feet. "Crawl."

"Come on Kuna," you coo, voice sticky sweet. "I'm really sorr-"

"Shut the fuck up. Nobody wants to hear your sorry's. Now get over here."

So you drop back to your knees and start to crawl. You sway your hips and smile up at him, ever defiant. He snorts and shakes his head. "You are such a little slut."

"Stand up," he says, when you arrive at his ankles. Even seated as he is on the arm of the couch, he towers over you when you obey. 

"Strip," he says, then, "faster," when you are to slow to peel your clothes away. He leans forward and slides his fingers through your folds. 

"Wet," he says.

"For Nanami," you retort, only half a lie. You are still mad at him, after all. 

His hand flies so quick you barely see him move before the back of his hand connects with your cheek. Seeing stars, you're reeling backwards, but he catches you, draws you across his lap. The belt burns across the fat of your ass as he brings it down on you over and over in fast, hard bursts. Tears sting your eyes as you squirm and bite at your bottom lip, but he's strong and has little trouble holding you in place with his one free hand clasping your wrists together behind your back. 

"Told you not to fuck with me," he's growling, and your pussy clenches around nothing. You wish he would just fuck you already.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sob, "Please, please, please!"

Finally, he relents, the belt slithers to the floor. "Are you really sorry?" He asks, his voice softer now, some of the aggression soothed out of it by the burst of violence. "Actions speak louder than words, you know." You fail at biting back a moan as he suddenly shoves his fingers inside you, growling as he feels you clenching around him. "You want my cock?" He asks. Craning your neck you look up at him over your shoulder, nodding frantically.

"On your knees then," he says, releasing you. 

"You're a sick fuck, you know," he says as you crumple to your knees between his feet. "Might even be worse than me." He lets his jeans pool around his ankles before stepping out of them. Grasping the base of his cock, already rigid and leaking, he smacks it lightly against your cheek, smearing your feverish skin with precum. "That's why he-" he nods behind him at Nanami's unconscious body, "-could never do it for you."

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, which you drag along his tip murmuring, "can you take this off too-" you tug at the sleeve of his hoodie, "-I wanna see you."

He grunts and pulls it over his head, groaning as you pull his cockhead into your mouth, tongue tracing his slit, the ridge if his glans. You know that he is at least partly right, you are sick. But you wonder if he brings it out of you. Could you be different with Nanami? You think of his mouth on your neck, your hands on his chest.

"If you want to see me, open your eyes," Sukuna says, something jagged in his tone, like suspicion. So you look up at him, run your fingers up the fronts of his thighs to the dips of his abdominals as you take his cock deeper. Your eyes follow the lines of tattoos outlining his chest until you find his face, jaw slack, eyes heavy as he looks down at you.

You release his dick with a wet pop, sucking in air. "You're perfect."

"I didn't say stop," he grasps, fisting a hand in your hair, using his other to pry your mouth open unnaturally wide until you are drooling down his tattooed wrist, eyes shiny with tears as you look up at him. He slides his cock between your lips, controlling the angle of your head with his hands, sinking in until your nose is pressed against his stomach. "Told you to fucking be home when I got home," he growls, smashing ypur face against his groin so that you can't breathe.

You sputter and gag around his cock as he stays fully seated inside you. "Ssh, ssh it's okay," he soothes as his fingers wrap around the soft column of your throat, feeling the bulge of his length there. "Oh, fuck, baby, you are really lucky you feel so fucking good, 'cause you really fucking pissed me off," he moans as uses your hair to bob your head up and down on his cock until your jaw burns and tears spill out of your eyes. "You really are sorry, huh?"

You do your best to signal in the affirmative as he continues to fuck your throat, but you find you have little control at the moment, so you just hope he gets the message. When he finally pulls out, and stuffs the strings of drool that stretch between your lips and his cock back into your mouth with his thumb, you nod, gasping. "I am. I am sorry," you manage to sob out in broken syllables around his prodding fingers.  Although your brain is a little too wine blurry and cock drunk to accurately recall exactly what you're sorry for. And weren't you mad at him for something? 

Your muddled thoughts are interrupted as he yanks you up and bends you over the arm of the couch as if you weigh nothing. "Tell me who you belong to, baby," he growls as you feel the fat head of his cock bully it's way between your folds from behind. "Because it seems like you forgot."

"You, I belong to you," you answer dutifully, drawing out the final vowel into a long moan as he sheaths himself inside of you with one hard snap of his hips. 

"Fuck," he growls, twitching inside of you, "say it again."

"I'm yours, Sukuna," you whine, peering over your shoulder to look at him. 

"Yeah," he moans, rolling his hips into you, his cock dragging along every tender aching inch inside you. "You're mine," he pounds into you faster, harder, pulling you back into him by your hair. "I'm gonna stuff you so full of cum, baby." He always talks so much when he's fucking you. Now he's babbling something about making you pregnant. You're too stupid with lust to even begin to reflect on what an almost comically bad idea that is, although you suppose you understand it. Another way for him to stake his claim.  Then his teeth are bruising your shoulder, marking you, and you're arching into him, your walls beginning to flutter around the sweet, familiar shape of him.

He pulls out as soon as he feels you starting to squeeze down on him. "Want you to look at me when you cum," he rasps. You guess you know why.  You make it a point not to look over his shoulder as he threads his arms under your hips, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist before he impales you again. 

"Oh fuck, Sukuna," you whine as he stretches you, a perfect pain.

"Say it again," he murmurs, pistoning up into you with more speed now, but less control as he nears his end. 

"Yours," you manage to choke out before he slips a hand around your throat, stealing your breath, making your vision darken as you seize up around him, milking him as he spills inside of you. He is clawing and biting at you everywhere he can reach as he devours your lips, pouring a muffled string of curses into your mouth. You wonder vaguely, if any small part of him cares about you, or if he only cares to own you.

You are intertwined, leaning against the wall, twitching and gasping. You're too busy murmuring nonsense into each other's ears to notice when Nanami sits up and slides the remaining wine bottle off of the coffee table. The one the two of you didn't quite finish off. 

You've got your chin hooked over Sukuna's shoulder, your fingertips tracing the circles tattooed there and he's panting, "I want to tell you something," when you see Nanami walk around the couch, holding the bottle by the neck. 

"I don't know why I could never say it before," Sukuna whispers as Nanami raises the bottle. You lock eyes with him, but you don't say anything. 

"I-" There's a soft thud as the bottle connects with the back of Sukuna's head. His eyes roll back as he falls away from you and hits the floor hard. 

Nanami barely looks at you as he shoulders Sukuna's limp body and carries him outside. You are pulling on your sweats when he comes back, gathers the man's clothes and tosses them outside. You cross your arms over your bare chest as he walks past you into the kitchen. "Get dressed and get out, please. I'll get you an uber," he says, pressing a bag of frozen peas to his face. He sinks into the couch, wine bottle between his knees and uncorks it with his thumb. His back is to you.

"Nanami?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't find my top. Maybe you're sitting on it?"

He sighs and leans forward to set the bottle and the makeshift icepack on the coffee table. Then he's wrapping his shirt around your shoulders, it smells like the cedar and the ocean. You look up at him through damp lashes, bruises already starting to bloom in the hollows of his eye.

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks," he says before he returns to the couch.

Sukuna is standing, although weaving, in his boxers, looking dazedly at his pants when you shoulder through the broken door.

"Hey," he mumbles, stumbling forward. "Where the hells my belt?"

Nanami sinks back into the couch, frozen peas pressed to his face. Takes a long pull off the bottle before deciding that's probably not going to help much. He stares at the broken TV screen, the flickering bars of light reflecting in his eyes.

Maybe after he works this job a few more years, he could just start over somewhere else. 

Like Malaysia.

Yeah.

That'd be nice.

[kurishiri]

10 things you should know before you read alfons route (no major spoilers)

its probably one of the, if not the most smutty route we have so far.

theres dub con. a lot of it. basically all of it initiated by al against kate.

a lot of questions you may have had abt al in elbies route may be answered in this route. they also hint quite a bit at roger and als relationship, but they only go a lot more into detail abt this in rogers route release event. but its no exaggeration to say elbie and als routes go hand in hand together! so if you enjoyed elbies route, and youre ok with the aforementioned themes ↑ then i would definitely try alfons route.

most premium stories contain the dc. if youre uncomfy with such themes, i would say chptr 19, 24 for both ends have the least.

that said, the biggest main theme i would say deals with isolation (mental, emotional, social) and depression, things of that nature.

i feel the dc you may see here is more like a narrative device to elevate said themes ↑

not every single plot line that is introduced in his route has a definite closure. in fact one of them is blatantly left pretty “open” even in the end.

there is romance, but the route itself may not feel as romantic as maybe some others bc he doesnt express love as openly in general as some of the other suitors.

choose mad love if: you like drama, more sexy cgs, the shōjo anime style comedy. choose blind love if: you enjoy “quiet” stories, you prefer your heart to twinge rather than race. more on this here!

i would personally recommend his route if you enjoy angst and star-crossed lovers sort of trope. there are funny moments (al has a lot of that dramatic or theatric humor), but at his core he is a very broken soul.

sincerely,

a silly fan tler

[faylvrs]

Hey I SOOOOO love ur works, and I think you're a great author/writer....

Anyway can I request Yukimiya headcanons that'll make me tear up but also happy...(FLUFF AND ANGST) 🤤🤤...FAYLVRS PLSLslekLSLSBSKS I WILL NOT SEND U THREATS ANYMORE

୨୧ think i like you best when you’re dressed in.. ☆ postscript: yukimiya loves picking your outfit of the day.. used to. cw angst ending, spoilers, au , fem reader, 0.3k wc ✧˖ note: did a drabble instead hope u don’t mind lo >_<

it was no surprise that your boyfriend, yukimiya had a great sense of style.

he was a model, after all. you don’t even know how you managed to steal his heart—someone as pretty and alluring as him. so who was your first choice to go to whenever you needed to pick out an outfit? obviously your boyfriend.

maybe you’re lucky for being able to steal his heart, but luck isn’t on everyone’s side. and it was definitely proved with your boyfriend.

“soooo, miya. which one?” you hold out two outfits infront of him, excited to see which outfit he’d choose this time. you enjoyed playing this little game with him, watching his hand move to grip the fabric of the cloth.

“this one feels nice.” his thumb traces the silk-like pattern of the cloth. “i think it’ll look pretty on you.” his hand makes its way to yours, pulling you forward to fall onto the bed with him. even if he couldn’t see, he still remembers your body like the back of his hand.

you both let out fits of laughter when you fall onto the bed, letting out an ow! when your face hits his chest. “what makes you say that?”

“cause i know my pretty girl will look good in anything, right? she learns from the best.” he sends you a teasing wink. “yeahh right, okay pretty boy.”

but its the truth, no matter what you wear, he knows you’ll look absoultely divine.

even if he can’t see it with his own eyes, the image of you that is slowly fading from his mind will always make his heart throb. even if he’s slowly starting to forget what you look like as he lay in the hospital bed, he’ll love you, no matter what.

even if he has to forget his dream about soccer, even if he has to remember your pretty face as a distant memory, nobody could ever make him stop expressing his love to you.

even if he feels the need to break up with you, that you need someone who could appreciate your beauty properly, still, he’ll love you.

even if he’d have to bare the thought of never feeling your touch ever again.

he’ll still love you.

ummm i hate this blind bitch soooooo much …….. @lowkloe ☺️☺️

[focalove]

Aventurine is a busy person, that is for sure. But has anyone wondered what he does in his free time?

You have, to say the least.

For you, Aventurine gambles in his scarce free time. Finding every good opportunity possible. And take them in if he finds it is beneficial for him.

You swore that you will never understand his thrill about gambling, just what is so good about it? What if he loses and loses everything? You can never understand it but only watch the situation unfold for itself.

Maybe it's the thrill? No, the rewards? Perhaps. But isn't there a better way to earn cash rather than spend time in the casino? He might go strip broke one day because of it.

Now your thoughts wandered off again, what does he use his pile of money for?

At first, the answer was like clear water. He uses it to pay off his bodyguards pay check, his clothes, taxes maybe, body essentials and etc. But what else?

You were in deep thought by now. You think and think and start fidgeting with your necklace subconsciously. It's not long afterwards that you realized you were fidgeting with the necklace.

Then a sudden thought occurred — the necklace. It was a gift from Aventurine.

"So? Do you like it? Bought it just for you y'know.." you remembered the conversation vividly. It was a gold necklace with a citrine gemstone carved to a shape of a flower

"Mhm, I do like it. Just how much was this?" You asked as you looked at the gemstone. It was pretty, and high quality. It's not the type of necklace that gets wrecked in less than a week.

"50.000 credits."

"What."

You remembered his smirk and laughed at your reaction when your face dropped from happy go lucky to serious and frowning mode. And you even remembered how lightly he took it.

That wasn't the first time he ever did that. He buys many high-priced items for you oftenly, especially when both of you are just starting out.

Promptly you've noticed how he always puts his attention towards you through his gifts. To think about you even when you're not there.

Maybe, his free time really is gambling.

So that the rewards that he won from gambling, he can give it to you.

Because, his favorite free time, is thinking about you.

✧ XTRA : ffs this is so cheesy n full of crack for no fkin reason :sob::sob: rya died making this + this my debut post ayyy

[fairylibe]

phantom of a hand.

856 words. angst. very tiny spoilers for alfons’ rt. features: “alfons sylvatica” × gn! reader.

꒰ summary ꒱ you go to the festival and feel a phantom of a voice; you go to the room and feel a phantom of a hand.

that pie throwing festival was fun.

“your face’s wide open!” the splat of pie cream could be heard as something collided with your face before you could dodge.

“one point for the red team!”

there was little time to wipe your face clean; plates of pies were being thrown everywhere in the open park, and you hardly wanted to miss out.

you could always take a bath afterward. that’s what you had always done, after all.

…wasn’t it?

“take that!” you shouted, bursting into laughter as the pie you threw flew in the air in an arched trajectory before falling flat on someone’s chest.

hearty laughter and shouting could be heard across the entire park. you could dodge some shots — though maybe at the expense of another person — but right now, in this very moment, you just wanted to relish in the lively noise.

a sense of urgent desire drove your actions. it was as though a phantom was beside you, whispering the very words, “there is nothing more important than living in the moment, (y/n).”

because you knew that when everything ended, you would walk into the quiet of the city.

it was a strangely familiar sensation, as though you had walked these very streets, after the very same festival, sometime before. you had placed your arm on the rail somewhere near the lamppost that was about to light up the streets in lieu of the sun, looking out into the city from a distance.

it was all too familiar, yet foreign at the same time. or perhaps, something was missing, as though you were missing a single piece of a puzzle.

the picture was mostly complete, except for one thing.

but what was that thing?

every time you passed around this bridge, even during the day, you would feel a tiny twinge in your heart. it was like someone was wringing it.

someone you didn’t know.

you had a feeling you were forgetting something that truly mattered to you.

the ache was always there, but for some odd reason you couldn’t quite pin down. the ache morphed into pain, opening a hole in your heart, until your vision blurred.

was it because of how quiet and somber your surroundings had become after engaging in something so boisterous and lively?

only the gentle breeze could answer, drying your cheeks of the tears that fell.

—

the room when you came in was empty enough to leave behind no sign of life. it was not dusty enough, however, to suggest any abandonment.

after all, you had always kept it clean.

you didn’t know why, but you felt a deep attachment to this room. when you asked around, though, everyone had claimed no one has ever occupied this room before.

was this also a feeling induced by another life?

you walked around the room, tracing your fingers around the spotless furniture. finally, your hands stopped on a black cloth that covered something rather tall and narrow, if the cloth could hug its edges. before, you had a strange feeling, much like what you had felt before in the city around the bridge, that you shouldn’t touch that cloth.

but today, you found the courage in you to defy that voice that told you otherwise.

gripping the black cloth, you pulled it toward you, removing it and revealing what was beneath it all along.

the sight took your breath away.

before you was a mirror, tall enough to reflect your whole person. yet, due to how shattered it was on the surface, your own reflection became distorted with the fractures in the glass.

it looked as though someone had punched through it.

but who?

against your better judgment, your fingers made their way to the mirror’s surface, feeling something like a magnetic attraction. but you ended up cutting one of your fingertips, causing you to wince and immediately draw back, the pain breaking you from the mysterious spell this “magic mirror” had placed on you.

when you looked at your index finger, red blossomed from where you had cut it.

“i do find it oddly curious how you seem to have a penchant for getting hurt like this.”

who was that? this voice…

“well? let me see the cut.”

that’s right… this voice… his name was——

your thought abruptly cut off there, and once again, tears started to flow, though it didn’t occur to you that you were crying until you heard yourself hiccup.

you raised your arm to your face, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. but alas, it was a futile effort.

“hehe, first you cut yourself and now you shed tears like this. you truly are a handful sometimes. and yet, i do find your tears ever so endearing.”

you no longer knew if you were crying because of the cut on your finger, or because of the phantom warmth you felt on your cheek from someone you no longer remembered.

but if you knew one thing…

it was that the tears couldn’t stop falling to the ground now — as there was no longer any hand to catch them.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @letter-from-afar @candiedcoffeedrops @.comment to be added or removed!

[sleepyhoon]

sleepyhoon's perm taglist ⋆ hiii tysm for your interest in wanting to join my perm taglist! please ensure to follow all the rules below and i will add you!! tysm for supporting my work!

rules ⋆ must be 18+, have an age indicator (adult, 20s, etc.)/your age somewhere visible on your blog, must be following me (if ur unable to bc of tumblr's weird sideblog restrictions please lmk!). please be willing to reblog + interact with my work if you'd like to be tagged in it! ^.^

to be added ⋆ just comment below and i'll add you! that's it! :3

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．． ❛ #HER NEW BOYFRIEND’S NEXT!

𐙚 synopsis。．short hcs/scenarios of jealous yandere aventurine & sunday ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive themes . general yandere themes, brainwashing, gaslighting in Sunday’s part, mentions of violence, mentions of scide, imprisonment, except for aventurine relationships are not established, WARNING: extremely obsessed and smitten with you, read at risk!

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。honestly why do i think sunday will be literally the most dangerous yandere you could ask for。man has all the resources to brainwash you and lock you up pls

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY．。

。… a classic yandere obsessed over control. 。literally, he will be such a control freak. he has eyes all over penacony. he would have already kept track of what kind of soulglad you drink, when you get home, what your sleep habit is, all under the span of a week, and that’s before meeting you. obviously, as your future spouse, he is just obtaining information he needs for the future! 。will treat you surprisingly equally to his other guests when you meet, he doesn’t want gossip to get around, and he wants to make this “process” as natural as possible. 。after you are successfully within his area of control, he will start to monitor you even more meticulously- who you meet, what you do in your dreams.. he is a bit disappointed you don’t visit him on your own accord, but that will all be arranged soon! 。will casually go up to your room to ask you about “room service satisfaction” when he’s actually just busy breathing in your lovely scent and assessing your room for any “threat.” 。he doesn’t like that you’re affecting his ability to work. he’s impatient, of course, but he knows that he will have to wait for the perfect opportunity to whisk you away like a knight in shining armor. And all he needs is a little pawn to play the act of a villain- oh, your little male acquaintance will do! 。he’s like that- using people around you as puppets to his grand stage. Sunday is well-informed about morals, of course. But he won’t feel much guilt, not when he knows this is all for the ‘greater good.’ “They” will approve of it. 。and so, he starts to crack his charming facade- he will start asking you for private meetings, and he will put you in a vip room so you are isolated. He does this under the mask of ‘danger,’ saying that you have faced too many threats and he needs to ensure his guest’s safety. 。If you call your friends for help? The next day, they are mysteriously gone from penacony. You call them but your phone is out of service. 。but if you are still not charmed over his chivalry.. he’ll have to settle for easier methods.

❝ WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”

Your demand was choked with such pleasant sobs that SUNDAY couldn’t help but slip out a small victorious smirk that quickly masks itself to a concerned facade when you fix your angry watery eyes at him.

“I know it was you,” you continue, pacing around his office while he remains nonchalantly seated, trailing his eyes to your every step. “You made all my friends vanish from penacony, you had my parents escorted away to aeons know where, you stowed me here like I’m some kind of precious little jewelry for your eyes only. What do you want from me?” The evident snarl in your words merely makes Sunday tip his head a little, staring at you with the same serene look that frustrated you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you got it all wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment and rose up from his seat, taking silent strides to you at an alarming speed that made you stumble backwards to the door. “‘They’ have done nothing for you during your stay in the Reverie. You are always disappointed with them, but you choose not to speak up. It is such a painful sight, you are just like a bird who lost its voice.” His voice is surprisingly gentle, dangerously neutral, which scares you, and makes you doubt yourself.

Maybe you were just being stupid, Sunday was acting like it wasn’t a big deal. And your friends indeed did not do much for you here, unlike Sunday, who provided you with all this luxury without accepting anything in return. You feel safe here, almost. You blink a little- the heat that had pounded through your ears was gone, and now you feel like a harmless puppy that just barked his best at a wolf.

“It‘s natural to be mad, dear.” His hand delicately entangles itself into your locks, and you stare at him, unable to say anything as he soothingly whispers. “It is hard to understand actions for the greater good. relax, sweetheart. Everything will be better now,” he purrs, staring right into your eyes. They are endless depths of azure. They are very, very mesmerizing, you think.

“Everything will be better now,” you realize, and you sigh into his arms that seemed to suddenly be present around you. But the worry disperses, you are fine with being close with him. His embrace is welcoming and soft. You don’t want to leave it ever again.

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE．。

。this man takes the cake for being the most jealous man in honkai 。he’s a charmer. he wins you over easily, because who could resist his charisma and his wealth, honestly. He flirts his way easily with you— unlike Sunday, he likes an impromptu plan, and rather enjoys surprises- any attempt of you trying to break up with him will not irritate him at all, contrary to the former. 。“Your attempts fascinate me. Too bad you lost all your bargaining chips. You gonna play another round with me, love? I’m more than willing to, you know.” 。he will be pleased, intrigued at how he can break you down again. he likes a little chase and gamble, he doesn’t want his prey served on his plate, he likes the thrill of hunt. 。he’d even be impressed if you escape him. But not for long, because he will bring you back to where you belong. 。this man will barely be angry over you. He won’t force any affection onto you, he satisfies himself by buying you expensive clothes instead, as if you are his little doll. He is content with you being a quiet and submissive trophy. 。what this man does not tolerate, however, is you being with anyone else. He cannot bear the thought that someone is around you more than he is, and that you rely on someone more than you rely on him. Aventurine has pride over his abilities, anyone taking you is like taking his most precious trump card. 。despite the jealousy he feels, he will still regard this as a particularly entertaining game. But he knows he will win this gamble, too.

❝ AH, IT’S SUCH A THRILLING GAME, ISN’T IT, SWEETHEART?”

You watch AVENTURINE toss the coin into the air and roll it around his fingers, his mesmerizing eyes examine the bitter look of defeat on your features.

“This isn’t funny,” you sobbed, despair dawning on you upon realizing that you truly lost everything to him. You had no more moves left in this game he put you in. He was merciful enough to spare your blood relatives, but your friends were gone- including the nice and sweet, innocent guy you shared friendly banter with for barely an hour.

“A gamble is fair and share, love.” He puts his hand on your waist, giving you a short kiss that tasted of wine. You felt nothing but defeat as he tossed the coin on the table where it flopped. “You just picked the wrong set of cards to play with.”

He is close to you all of a sudden, his hot breath tickling your skin, smelling of victory and wealth. His eyes stare right into you as he chuckles, the sadistic glint in his eyes glitter a little more when you feel a tear escape your eye. He leans to your ear, lightly biting your earlobe as he adds,

“Nobody wins with a deck with only clovers, my love. A shame that your cards were so… discardable.”

He laughs at that, watching your stunned face. He loves the look of surprise on you. It is endearing, it shows so well that you do not know how to play his game at all.

[kasiers]

SWEET GLANCES — RIN ITOSHI

pairing: rin itoshi x reader

synopsis: amidst stolen glances and quiet smiles, you and your boyfriend spend a sweet moment together at a café

contains: gn!reader, established relationship, rin absolutely ADORES reader and is whipped, just pure fluff and even moreee fluff !!

word count: 0.8k

a/n: based on this req ! i honestly had trouble writing this because i didn't know where to start or how to start it at ALL. shout out to one of my bffs for helping me out with this <3

Café dates with your boyfriend Rin is like a kindergartner giving a love letter to his crush.

Rin who’s usually stoic and can keep calm suddenly can’t find himself focusing at all if you’re in front of him looking pretty, just as you’d always been.

Rin, who's supposed to be thinking about Blue Lock and how he can be better than Isagi and beat his brother Sae, currently finds himself aweing at every single move you make.

You catch him staring, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he quickly looks away, pretending to be engrossed in his ochazuke.

You lean forward, propping your arms on the table with your hands on each side of your face as you admire him.

His eyes lock with yours for a moment after you admire him and stare with no shame. Rin was pretty, you couldn’t help but smile and let out a soft giggle, the sound made his heart flutter.

He fidgets slightly, still not used to the way you make him feel despite being lovers for 8 months now. He feels like a kid with you, maybe that’s why he loves your presence so much.

He doesn’t look away from you, he takes his turn admiring every one of your features and hopes you don’t notice.

But you do, you notice the way his eyes move as he observes you. You notice the way he looks at you with loving, affectionate, gentle eyes.

He doesn’t look at anybody this way, just you. It makes you feel special, you’re his whole world just as he is to you.

“Rin,” you say softly, drawing his attention to you as he hums. He meets your gaze, trying to maintain his composure but he fails miserably. “You’re staring.”

“I wasn’t,” he mutters a bit too quickly. His attempt at trying to seem cool and collected in front of you makes you giggle again, sounding like music to his ears.

You roll your eyes playfully, Rin loves the way you just see through him. He loves the way you’re the only person that could understand him.

As you take another sip of your drink, he watches you, captivated by the simple act. The way your eyes light up when you talk, the way you smile– hell everything about you amazes him. He tries to act nonchalant, but he can’t hide the way you make him feel.

Rin’s mind drifts, trying to think about how he can be the best striker in the world and all that. But right now, all he can think about is how lucky he is to have you here with him.

You notice his intense gaze and feel your cheeks warm. “Rin,” you say softly, your voice drawing him out of his thoughts.

He blinks out of his trance, realizing he’s been staring again. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking away for a moment before his eyes are drawn back to you, as if they can’t help themselves.

You prop your chin on your hand and smile at him, “I don’t mind,” you say, your voice soft. “I actually… like it..” You muttered, your voice cracks slightly as you try to speak it out coolly.

His blush deepens, and for a moment, he forgets to breathe. The way you’re looking at him now, with such affection makes him feel like he’s the only person in the world.

Rin’s eyes widen slightly, his hand inching closer to yours on the table as he points out. “You’re blushing,” he says, a teasing note in his voice.

You try to regain your composure as you huff out, “so what if I am?” You retort, your voice betrays your attempt at nonchalance.

He chuckles softly, the sound making your heart race. “It’s cute,” he says simply, his hand finally reaching yours, brushing your fingers lightly.

You could swear you died and came right back, did he even realize what he said? Your heart beats even faster, if it wasn’t for the chatters inside the café he might be able to hear your heartbeats.

You don’t think he does as he looks down for a moment, “I can’t focus with you around..” he says gently, his voice was low and sincere.

You giggle, a mix of embarrassment and joy as you squeeze his hand gently. “Sorry, you deserve to rest once in a while.”

He nods, his thumb stroking the back of your hand in a soothing gesture. “I know, thanks,” he admits, his eyes locking with yours again.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, stealing quick glances at each other. Everytime he looks at you with the same tender warmth, it makes your heart flutter all over again.

In that cozy café and the lingering scent of coffee, you both savor the moments of simply being with each other. The world outside can wait for now, all that matters is this moment.

[hwamphwamp]

cause I want you ✧♬•*¨*•.｡

｡.•*¨*•♬✧ iiiiii want yooooou

[vezpr]

｡•*⁀➷₊· ➛ 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

HuMAN SUKUNAxF!READER ☽☾ NO POWERS AU ☽☾ONESHOT ☽☾ AO3

☽☾ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Sukuna hates it when you smile... it makes him feel funny.

☽☾ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, oral sex, piv sex, nothing crazy, no angst (!)

☽☾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

Sukuna hates it when you smile at him like that.  Don't you know he eats girls like you for breakfast? Aren't you even a little bit scared? Intimidated? Doesn't seem like it, when you look up at him, glossy eyed, and grin that way.

In line for coffee, walking to work, at the gym. Seems like everywhere he looks, there you are, smiling, dropping your eyes when he looks your way. Following him around like a curse. He certainly isn't following you. So, don't get any ideas. 

He hates the odd, swollen feeling he gets in his chest, when he sees you. Hates how he started to look for you, even. How he notices when you aren't at your usual place at your usual time. 

It's annoying.

"What the fuck are you smiling at? Something funny?"

The first thing he ever says to you.

And you giggle. Giggle. 

Seriously?

He couldn't have known that's something you do when you're nervous. What kind of nonsensical reaction is that? Makes about as much sense as anything else about you, though.  That's true enough.   

Soon, he realizes it would probably be harder for you to smile and laugh at him with his mouth pressed hard against yours. His tongue between your lips, perhaps some other parts of his, too.

He has to buy you a coffee first, he knows how these things work. Something sweet and creamy with ice in it. Typical. 

You don't smile when your lips are wrapped around the straw, he notices. Which gives him a few ideas. Things he thinks about when he's alone in his bed with his dick in his fist.

He notices your deadlift form is a little off, so he helps you. He knows how these things work. He crowds in behind you, rasping commands into your ear.

"Hinge, it's not a fucking squat. No! Are you doing it wrong on purpose? I saw you do it perfectly last week."

"Oh, you saw that?" You smile. 

Such a brat. So annoying. He really can't stand you. 

So, he walks you home. After all, you don't seem to be very smart.  You require supervision, obviously. You prove the point when you invite him inside. He grins. He's about to finally wipe that smile off your face.

But you don't stop when he towers over you. When he leans in, he kisses your stupid, grinning teeth. When he scoops you up and presses you against the wall, you giggle and squirm.

God, it is getting him worked up.

You know, pissed off. Frustrated.

Even when he bullies your lips open with his tongue you are giggling into his mouth. That's alright. He can be persistent. He has a few more techniques.

"Bedroom," he says.

"Yeah," you smile.

"I mean where is it, dumbass? I've never been here before."

More laughing. Everything is hilarious. Well, not for long. 

Finally. Finally. When he slips his hand into your panties, your smile falters. You bite your lip and sigh out his name as he draws slow circles around your engorged clit. When his tongue replaces his fingers your jaw slackens, your lips an 'O' as you sing a chorus of instructions and affirmations. Faster, not so hard, right there, yes. 

Even now, you're infuriating, thinking you can order him around. He grinds his rigid, weeping cock against the mattress.

Fuck.

At least you aren't smiling. Neither do you smile when he drags your feet over his shoulders and sheaths himself inside you in a single thrust.

"Wait, ohmygod, it's too much," you groan and arch your back. You do your best to squirm away but he holds you fast, lets you adjust. Then you're lifting your hips, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. More commands. Move. Fuck me. Please, please, please.

Fickle creature. So demanding.

When he finally relents, he does it with agonizing slowness. Just to torture you. Not because you feel so fucking good that he thinks he might come the moment that your warm, wet walls clamp down on his aching length. God, he hadn't realized how bad he needed this. 

It is impossible for you to smile as he fucks you stupid with his thumb hooked into your mouth.  You drool and moan vibrations into his skin as your eyes roll back. That's much better. He almost likes you like this.  Almost. 

Afterwards, he can feel you smiling into his chest. 

"What are you smiling about?"

"Are you kidding?" You actually laugh.

He grunts. So exasperating.

Over time, he tries different ways to vex or terrify you, to make you feel something besides vacuous bliss. Sitting in your darkened living room, waiting to startle you when you get home. Sneaking up on you in the shower. Tore the shower curtain down the first time, flailing at him. It is satisfying to coax a genuine scream of terror out of you. But, then you ruin it by laughing, saying something absurd like, "Oh, it's just you." Just. Irks him to no end.

Only once, so far, has he managed to banish that smile from your face for more than a couple of minutes. Only once has he managed to evoke pure, unadulterated rage in your sweet little soul.

He creeps up behind you in the kitchen while you are prepping your lunch for the week. You don't hear him over the music. He slips his hands around your waist and pulls you tight against the hard slab of his body.

"Jesus, you scared me!"

"You should be scared," his teeth graze your neck.

"Hm," you lean into him.

His hands slip under the waistband of your sweats, kneading your ass and thighs.

"Not now, I'm busy," you whine, squirming under his touch, but you sigh as he sucks and nips at your neck. His hand slides into your panties.

"'Kuna," you groan, as his finger curls inside of you, dragging out your slick. "Mmm... god." He grinds his stiffening cock against your ass. "Stop! I'm cooking! It is really time sensiti-"

He pulls your head back by your ponytail and eats the rest of that sentence, soon making you forget it altogether. Your sweats are pooled around your ankles, hands gripping the counter for leverage. His swollen cockhead nudges your clit as he ruts against you from behind, coating his length with your arousal. 

His hand finds your breasts under your t-shirt, rolling your nipples one after the other as he eases into you. You're looking over your shoulder into his wide-blown pupils, encouragement in the form of broken moans falling from your parted lips. 

"Gonna fuck you nice and slow," he growls as he sinks all the way into you and stills, smacking the fat of your ass with his free hand. Time sensitive. We'll see about that. 

You grind your ass against him, stretched and impossibly full, but seeking friction. So impatient. He sets a slow pace that has you begging.

Finally, he relents. Picks you up and turns you around to lay you on the floor, manhandling you just the way you like. He slots himself between your thighs and sinks deep into you with a snarl. Fucks you through a couple of orgasms. Folds you in half to push up your shirt to lick and suck all over your tits as he does so.

The smoke alarm is going off, but you barely notice as you come around his cock for the third time or so. 

"Messy," he smirks as he gathers your cum on his fingers and licks them clean. The taste seems to do something to him. He growls deep in his throat, eyes rolling, pulls out and pumps his dick with his fist, coating your stomach and heaving chest with thick ropes of cum. 

Heedless of the mess, he collapses, panting, on top of you, pressing his mouth to yours. You taste yourself on his tongue.  Your hips grind against his, prolonging the aftershocks as your tongues slide against each other. 

Gradually, the shrill alarm bleeds through the haze of lust that blankets your brain and you wiggle wetly from beneath him. "Goddamnit, motherfucker!" You're exclaiming as you open the oven and cough at the smoke that pours out. "They're all burnt!" You round on him, scowling.

He smiles. Laughs a little, even. His turn, at last. 

You look up at him, pouting. You say he has to take you to lunch every day this week.

Yeah.

We'll see about that. 

[kurishiri]

01 . . . william v.s. darius

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: none.

Today was what one would call a comfortable, ideal day.

Kate: Thank you for inviting me here, Will.

K: It really has been a while since we last visited the city. I’m really looking forward to it.

William: As am I. Besides——

W: The possibility of encountering something unexpected is another thing I do look forward to, perhaps.

The glance he gave me made my heart flutter...

Kate: I would assume there’s some reason why we’re going out to the street fair going on today, right?

...and I returned his look with a searching one of my own, seeing those lips forming a perfect arc.

William: It is a reward for a very clever and discerning little robin——

W: Ahh, before that, though, let us extend our greetings to our guest here.

When I followed his gaze, there I saw Darius, who was walking toward us with a bright, innocent smile playing on his lips.

Darius: Hello there, Sir Rex. I’ve been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to be able to chat with you.

D: Ahh, and to the little miss fairytale keeper as well. Hello there.

Kate: Hi, Darius. Were you taking a stroll?

Darius: It’s such a good day out, it would be a shame if I stayed holed up in the castle, you see.

William: So, it would appear the castle is slightly too cramped for your tastes.

Darius: Whoops, you got me.

D: The higher-ups here in the castle are so stiff and formal, I could hardly take it. In fact, it was getting a bit hard to breathe, so I came here to escape, you see.

Kate: I see, then——

I was about to invite Darius as well, when I suddenly realized something.

(That’s right, Will was about to say something a couple minutes ago too. If this outing has anything to do with a mission...)

I probably shouldn’t be the one to decide that, so I turned toward Will, only to find him staring at me with an amused expression.

William: It is as you wish, Kate.

Kate: Thank you.

(As always, he seems to know exactly what I’m thinking.)

Darius: What’s this now? Will you let me join your merry group?

Kate: Darius, how about you join us in going to a street fair?

K: Since you have come a long way to England, it would make me happy if you ended up enjoying London.

Darius: Well that sounds very interesting. Perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer.

A smile blossomed on Darius’ face in an instant, and the sight made Will narrow his eyes in response.

William: Alright then, let us share a carriage then to the fair, the three of us. [1]

—— In a carriage ——

William: So the other day, we took down a crime syndicate that committed a great many thefts,

W: and that organization would have impoverished children steal in exchange for a generous reward.

W: We have taken the children who have been used by them under custody and are supporting them now, but that is not to say we were able to completely wipe all the traces out.

Darius: ——I imagine many of those children would stain their hands with crime once again in order to survive.

D: And what better place to do so than a street fair, which is teeming with people?

D: That’s why you are going to patrol around, and should you find any child who may have relations to that organization, you will take them into custody...

D: I wonder, did my guess hit the mark, Sir Rex?

William: Straight in the mark. I would expect no less from you, director.

Darius: I’m deeply honored by your kind words.

D: Even so, though, going out to find the children who had been targeted...

D: It’s a little reminiscent to Versteckspiel.

William: Indeed, it’s fine to see this as a game of hide and seek.

W: After all, since you are staying in England for a period of time, I would like for the director of Vogel to have fun in this fair.

Kate: The fairs here in England are really fun, so I myself enjoy them too. Ah, look, we’re almost there.

When we got off the carriage in front of the fair venue, Darius’ eyes lit up at the scene before him.

Darius: Wow, it’s so lively here. Ah, what are those wavy things?

Kate: Those are garlands the people have decorated the city with. They’re all handmade, so they come in many different shapes.

Darius: Ohh, then are those flags also garlands? They have such an interesting shape. And there are so many shops I don’t know where to even start.

D: They’re a tad different from the festivals over in Germany, but the excitement never changes for any festival.

Darius’ eyes wandered around everywhere with interest, and his frolicking had a very innocent air.

(I’m glad he’s having fun. Just seeing him makes me happy as well.)

William: It seems like he is having a good time.

Kate: Right? I’m glad I invited him. Ah, look, there’s a pie wagon coming!

William: Would you care for some berry pie, director?

Will and I went to buy enough pies for three people, offering one to Darius.

However, once he took the pie, he only stared down at it, not bothering to eat any of it.

William: Oh? It is considered bad manners to eat while you stand. Or perhaps…

Without putting on any airs, Will grabbed his own portion and took a bite.

At the sight of him chewing and swallowing, seeming to enjoy the taste, Darius widened his eyes.

William: If you were worried that poison had been mixed in, let this be proof that it is a groundless worry.

Will wiped the berry sauce on the corner of his lips with his thumb, smiling as he met Darius’ gaze.

Darius: Ahaha, to think you would fulfill the role of a poison taster of your own volition… it’s almost wasted on you.

D: But, that is also groundless on your part.

D: I am actually quite good, you see, at eating with bad manners.

The next moment, he took a large bite out of the pie, stuffing his cheeks.

Kate: Oh, you’ve got cream all over your mouth.

Darius: Hmm? It’s fiiine. Here, why don’t you have some, too, miss fairytale keeper? It’s scrumptious.

Darius paid zero mind to the fact that cream was on his face,

and seeing him munching so happily——

I remembered how he had mentioned that the castle felt a bit cramped.

(So right now, I would like it if he can spread his wings out as far as he can.)

Seeing the two before me so casually eat away, naturally my cheeks started to relax.

With a liberating feeling, I also took a large bite out of my pie.

Kate: Mm! It’s really good!

(Ah, come to think of it…)

Kate: Darius, you mentioned that you like foods that are either hard to make or hard to obtain, right?

Darius: Huh?

Kate: Those types of things don’t seem to be around here, so I will try to find some again next time!

Darius: Oh wow, so you remember the things that others have said very well.

William: Our little robin here is one to take actions for others; it is one of her virtues.

W: This pie as well, I see you have chosen my favorite flavor.

Kate: Yes, as I don’t make a mistake when it comes to whatever you say tastes good.

Darius: Ah, you like strawberries, don’t you, Sir Rex?

William: Oh? How did you know?

Darius: Is it not natural to do some research on the people you want to get along with?

William: Ahaha, your ardent words are loving music to my ears, director.

W: Actually, I am in the midst of unraveling the mystery that is you.

Darius: Oh? You are?

William: Indeed, I have come to learn a variety of things about you in this short time we’ve spent together.

W: Such as how you so heartily eat pie, among other things.

Darius: Ahaha, you aren’t wrong about that.

William: If the little robin hadn’t invited the director on this outing, such would remain a mystery. So thank you, Kate.

Kate: If you would like to give thanks, it is better suited for the ‘coincidence’ of meeting Darius right before we left.

K: Besides, I feel the same. I would like to get to know you more, Darius.

When I turned toward Darius, his entire face was smiling.

Darius: So you would like to get along more with me, miss fairytale keeper. I’m delighted to hear.

D: Let’s play together and get along much, much more, okay? And Sir Rex as well.

William: You can call me William.

Darius: Then you can just call me Darius. And miss fairytale keeper, that goes for you too?

Kate: Huh, is it really alright for me to call you Darius as well?

Darius: Why, of course. There’s no need to get so caught up in formalities if we’re going to get along with each other, right? So call me Darius, okay?

Kate: Okay then, Darius. I’ll do that from now on!

Then, William extended a hand to Darius.

William: We welcome you to England.

Smiling, Darius exchanged a handshake with Will.

Darius: Thank you. I hope next time you’ll find a time to come visit us in Germany.

D: Of course, that goes for both Crown… and the little miss fairytale keeper.

—— Scene change ——

While enjoying the lively festivities in contrast to the everyday, we could hear a notably loud shout of joy.

Darius: Hm? What are they all doing over there?

With our interests piqued, we headed toward the area where people were gathered, and——

Kate: Oh, they’re throwing horse shoes.

Darius: Ohh, it looks so fun. Now I want to try it.

William: Well then, I may participate as well.

Darius: Ah, then how about we have a match?

William: I don’t mind. I do imagine having a reward for the winner would make this match even more interesting as well, but…

Darius: Then how does miss fairytale keeper here sound for a reward?

to be continued…

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

first next →

NOTES:

[1] Will says [ひとつ共有しておこう] (hitotsu kyouyū shite okō), which means “sharing one”... thing... in order to like stay as a three man group at the fair. I just assumed he meant a carriage, as the next scene takes place in a carriage, but I may be wrong here.

full masterlist 🌹🪽

[faylvrs]

MASTERLIST! last update ( 22.12.24 ) ★ main page

౨ৎ JUJUTSU KAISEN

drabbles.

you just can’t call a spade a spade : megumi fushiguro

f1 racer : gojo satoru

a man undercover : geto suguru

we’re only getting older, baby : gojo satoru

december 7th : gojo satoru

baby do you want me? : megumi fushiguro

multi characters.

secret santa from who?

smaus.

said you’re not in my timezone but you wanna be

period, girl..

she’s busy!

domain- im drunk af!

౨ৎ BLUE LOCK

drabbles.

when memories snow : itoshi sae

the land is inhospitable and so are we : itoshi rin

under my mistletoe : michael kaiser

think i like you best when you’re dressed in.. : yukimiya kenyu

multi characters.

his eyes are like angels

but im not hurt, im tense

holding you, holding me

smaus.

say you’ll stay

[meiimeis]