#I see him more like the person who has a lot smaller ones

[irlnorthshaw]

Here's a question:

What are your Supa Strikas ships that you thought of and like, and think people wouldn't get?? (I'm curious lol-)

MIMPI... mimpi... be careful for what you're asking because you know how i am with shipping. guys i ship for life. like i dont give a damn if the ship's interaction is worth one cent... i make do with what i can and have!!! and after rewatching the show a couple billion times... i have gathered some INTERESTING ones.

liquido and riano

as you may know, i have watched "your latest trick" A LOT. yes they did interact in this one scene and never again but hear me out– they give me: liquido can't get over himself and thinks he can bag one of the finest man in the super league. but we all know riano, riano isn't having any of that. their convo would go something like this:

"hey, riano~" "goodbye, liquido."

el matador and blok

YES. yall heard me. this is also me showing some love to blok because some people seem to forget about him!!! what can i say, i love the idea of this dynamic. the thing is, sometimes i ship things in a way i wanna see more of them interacting and not necessarily picture them BEING together. if that makes sense.

these two are exactly that. i wanna see more of them interact bc lowkey i thought it was so wholesome when blok wanted to collaborate and promote fzzzl bmmm w the release of el matador's action figure.

DOOMATIC!!!!! OH YEAH BABY

if only automatic had more moments EUGH... this would've been so good. i personally pat myself on the back when i thought of this one bc i cooked HARD!!! they definitely cannot stand each other and to me, that's the best part of it all.

enemies to lovers who? more like enemies and i cannot believe we're also lovers.

skarra and north

the best way i can describe this one is. i am simply projecting myself on north and i love skarra. so... yeah #SHAMELESS

inyo and miss altivo

AKA PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE YURI!!! this one you guys HAVE to love. PLEASE!!! the potential is so insane here... inyo's big brains and chameleon-like tactics? combined with altivo's unwavering power over these dumb men for clicks and views??? COUNT ME TF IN!!!

we need more yuri in this fandom and THIS is where we should start.

brenda and lena

SPEAKING OF YURI... here's another one. except this time i am so surprised nobody has jumped on this yet??? futbol 360 yuri, i NEEEED IT!!! i need it now. they'd honestly be so cute and wholesome, moreover they definitely trade information abt the players for work

coach and the sheikh

now this one is a tad bit controversial BUT who am i without some controversial opinions!!! this is another case of i cannot see them BEING together, but i would kill to see them interact more. they are wayyy more entertaining than coach and vince. (THAT MIGHT ALSO BE CONTROVERSIAL) ohh... the way sheikh is so sassy w coach. maybe i just want more of the sultans... yeah thats it.

"losing your cool, coach? or just losing?" AND THEN PROCEED TO WALK AWAY LIKE THE BADDIE HE IS??? crazy stuff. i want more. NOW!!

belmont and von pushup

OKAY SO... storytime is i had an edit of these two a long time ago but i cant find it???? so consider it xander lost media at the moment. you guys need to hear me out on this because they would be SOOO PEAK!!! jock and goth but to another level i fear. as big and tough the iron tank guys are, i doubt they can stand grimm fc's haunted gimmicks.

plus von pushup works together w belmont to scare his own team bc he thinks its hilarious and perfect psychological training for them

AAAAAND THAT'S ALL... for now hehehe

sorry for the really long response but I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM!!!! i love crackships so much and especially in supa strikas bc we get a whole lot of freedom as a smaller fandom to do whatever. this was a very fun post to make, thank you so much mimpi for that lovely question!!! i always look forward to your input

[cuntyji]

you best believe i was so taken aback when this was thw first pos i see on my dash...notice how i can't even spell riht...that how flabbergasted i am. i think me and pookiekuna have one brain cell doing a little dance inside our bodies and that one brain cell uses our brains like air bnb's because tell me why did i take a break from writing a nerd fic AND I COME ON TUMBLR TO READ A NERD FIC !!!?? *SOUNDS OF GUNSHOTS AND FIREWORKS, THE CROWD GOES WILD, WOMEN ARE SCREAMING, MEN ARE WAILING*

but nay, this is not about me....this is about pookiekuna and her pursuit of knowledge....!!!! and the knowledge of how every single ovary in an hundred mile radius has exploded after reading this fic 💗

pookiekuna has also sincerely requested me to comment on the layout to which i will say slash srs (/srs): subscript suits smaller length drabbles [of what's been written] with multiple characters (: i personally liked the layout a lot, it makes reading a lot more visually appealing when the plot is already eating ykyk...maybe i am a bit biased because i'm reading on pc, and this may differ if you read on moba? idk but i feel like in general if i see a fic in subscript i tend to lock in to read because i physically need to focus on reading the text, but anyways !!!

nsfw under the cut

gojo purposefully overstimming himself i know that's right that horrid freak no shame no sanskar no nothing what is his number can i come over???

geto is actually the most pretentious nerd ever he is so frustrating i will rail this man into next tuesday I MEAN WHO SAID THAT I MEAN- *GUNSHOTS*

sukuna.....that loser. that's it. i won't say more because i have already told him everything that needs to be said 💐

fun fact as a commerce kid in high school i despised econ so much i would physically shake just thinking about it and then i found out my middle school crush in my old school is doing eco ba honors and when i tell you i locked the fuck in....idk why i got a bit giggly reading nanami's part remembering this HAHHA HE'S SO CUTEE THO (nanami not my crush yuck) I NEED HIM </3 WHERE WAS HE WHEN I WAS LEARNING ABOUT MULTIPLIER EFFECT

toji being a bimbo and a smartie pants at the same time....HOW DOES IT WORK??? HE MAKES IT WORK??/

i don't know what choso is saying but he can talk to me in french talk to me in spanish talk to me in his own made-up language doesn't matter if i understand it talk right in my ear 💗💗💗💗 (hello charli xcx)

NERDS DO IT BETTER ☓. ── ( 呪術廻戦 )

⌗ turns out they're the best you've ever had, and you think you're gonna' have to come back for more!

ᯓ starring ─. jjk ensemble cast : nerd! gojo, nerd! geto, nerd! sukuna, nerd! nanami, nerd! toji, nerd! choso

𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader )  ─── ❛ cw ⌓. mdni. college au. risky, public séx. handjóbs. óverstím. hate séx. fíngeríng. fiíming (consénsual). édging. vírgin!kuna. óral (m). missiónary. soft séx. brééding kínk. créampíe. backshóts. óral (f). wc ⌓. 3.5k.

﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ advanced mathematics, physics

"oh, fuck!" gojo's absolutely quivering, throwing back a head of tousled, snowy hair, "that's, ouh, that's way better than i ever coulda' even dreamed of." pale-pink lips snapping sharp around another moan as he shudders, "can ya' do it again?"

you're clicking your tongue, doing your very best to bite back a flushed smile yourself. knowing that you've got the smartest, honour roll student pliant beneath you, his thighs splayed out and bare — the skin spottled with patches of rosy pink, dusted with fine white hairs. he's still got that campus sweatshirt on, rumpled over the askew collar of the dress shirt underneath. where you're eager to run your hands, to slide your fingers up past the low trail of hair on gojo's groin.

it doesn't hurt that gojo's, like, ridiculously gorgeous. thick-rimmed glasses foggy over vibrant blue eyes, framed by ridiculously long lashes. and you can see him gnawing at the inside of his cheek as your hand keeps at a steady pace. pumping him over and over, until thick ropes of seed are coating your hand. it must be the nth climax of his by now, but it seems neither of you are that eager to call it a day.

you smile at how gojo squeezes his eyes shut, glasses skipping askew so you can fondly kiss his forehead. titling his glasses right back into place, all while he bites back a low, rumbled groan, "a-another?" it's a plea, almost hopeful for you to milk his poor, throbbing cock until there's not much else it can give.

"mhm, i don't know, satoru. it's kinda' risky, don'tcha think?" you're trying to keep your voice down, knowing that anyone could round the corner here. they could move past the stack of chairs littered behind the physics subsection of books and old papers to find gojo spread out so sluttily over this chair, his pants drifting past his ankles while you lean over behind the desk to jerk him off. workshop questions and calculations long discarded as the most intelligent man on campus chases some form of pent-up relief from you, his angel that's solely heaven sent.

gojo's the type of guy that's always moving, whether he's skimming and flipping through pages of glossy textbooks or speeding over the butterfly keys of his steel-grey mac, and right now?

he's still in motion, tapping trimmed nails in staccato beats against the plastic table. drumming his fingers over and over as he does his best to not let you see the crystalline tears of delicious overstimulation pooling at the corners of his eyes. shuddering as you pull back, letting his big cock snap back, smearing a thin line of translucent cum against his blue sweatshirt.

cursing because he knows he's gonna' have to peel that top off before his next class, before anyone can figure out exactly what that stain is, "fuck, we still got 15 minutes before that lecture, yeah? one more, please, baby, jus' one more."

﹙ 夏油 傑 : geto suguru ﹚ ─ philosophy, sociology

"what did i say? eyes on the lenses, pretty girl." geto's determined and mean when he's like this, but then again, when is he not a cunt?

that bitchy nerd's always sniping at you, doing dumb shit like taking your seat in class and sucking up to the teacher — batting pretty, dark lashes at the tutor while throwing a nasty look your way when you get the answer right.

but as of this moment, there aren't any right answers in your head. not when geto's got you propped up in his broad lap. right in front of a blinking video camera, perched on a shaky tripod as he swirls his digits as deep as he can into your pretty, swollen pussy.

"s-sugu', feels so good," you moan, sinking your teeth into the plush flesh of your lower lip as geto's face softens for a split second before hardening once more. handsome features crinkling as he shakes his head of choppy, raven hair, "didn't ask if it felt good, geez. i asked for the answer to the question, or are we jus' having trouble following instructions as well?"

"hate ya' so, so much, still, i don' even remember the fuckin' question," you're sniffling, knowing that he's so deliciously knuckle deep within you right now. your clear, glossy arousal coating his fingers as he pumps the digits in and out of your heat with a satisfying squelch!

geto smiles, as though he wanted you to say that while he was rolling a fat thumb over your clitoral hood. berry lips pulling at the corners as he tuts, using the hand that was previously holding apart your thighs to slide a pristine paper over his bed, clicking his tongue before he intones, "tch', let me quiz you, again, 'cause we got that test tomorrow. though, 'm not sure it's much good. now, how would you explain structural functionalism?"

your mind's absolutely turning to incredible, pleasurable mush as you struggle to form coherent sentences. instead, staring at the blinking red light blearing out through the dark haze of geto's form room, and swallowing as he begins pulling at the sensitive ache of your clit, "it's, like, the premise of everything havin' a purpose. like, hahh, society being a well-oiled machine n' people are jus' cogs and — fuck! suguru, can't even focus like this."

your back is writhing against geto's toned chest, and you can feel the dark strands of hair that have escaped his hairtie tickling at your cheek, "i know, beautiful," he coos, almost as though he quite likes you, rather than the loathing that he claims, "now tell me, who's ideas does structural functionalism align with? answer quick, and i'll make ya' cum this time, promise!"

brain whirring on overtime to snap out a rushed breath, "emile durkheim!" your lips pouting as you heave in a candied breath of air, "that's right, isn't it? now you promised, so please! make me cum, sugu', fuck."

you can hear geto chuckle, "you didn't make me pinky promise, though?" and he's revelling in how you huff, and curse him out, "besides, i like watching you squirm all pretty for the camera. helps me remember my notes so much more. y'know that 'm gonna' go back and revise this later."

﹙ 両面 宿儺 : ryomen sukuna ﹚ ─ anthropology, history

"you're a virgin?" your mouth parting into a sweet gasp as charlotte tilbury leaves sticky strands of product stringing between your pretty lips. because, there's just no way...

sukuna's rolling his crimson eyes, and shoving his tattooed hands into the ragged pockets of his thick hoodie, "why don't we focus on the project again? y'know that the entire thing is due next week, and this is our last meet-up before we gotta' present?"

the burly, quiet man's clearly flushed — with his tanned cheeks painted awash in some watercolour, blushy hue. muttering something about insolent cheerleaders and how he's refusing to get a bad grade because of you. but you're never one to lose. you just cross your arms over your chest, and a little more firmly on purpose, just to watch sukuna gulp as his gaze drops right down to that shadow of cleavage, "hey, you're the one who asked if i was sleeping with the quarterback."

sukuna's just too easy, because for all his churlish, jerkish attitude, he's not immune at all to your easiest charms. like a pretty red lollipop, or a spritz of your favourite body mist, or when you hike the hem of your skirt up just a little bit higher to doodle faint hearts on your flesh. and now he's grunting, drawing his eyes away from your torso to gulp, training his eyes solely on the project rubric, "yeah. was jus' a question. i don't give a fuck."

"mhm, sure." snapping strawberry gum between your teeth, "because i'm not with him." you grin as sukuna stiffens, almost snapping the poor, thin frame of a cheap lead pencil between his thick fingers.

"no?" he sounds almost, almost sheepish. battered headphones clattering around his marked neck as he jerks, and you almost coo. for it's honestly quiet sweet at how interested he sounds. ironic, considering ryomen sukuna is one of the most surly men on campus. always with his nose buried in some medieval book, always some exemplary paper of his pinned to the student noticeboard about the heian era.

"no," you repeat, scooting just a little bit closer to his broad frame, "because 'm interested in someone else, ya' see. like you, 'kuna."

the pencil snaps, the wood finally giving out to the quick motion of sukuna's fingers clamping down on it. pieces scattering and littering the table as broken lead clutters, the remnants of a man who's just had his world rocked but doesn't want to admit it, "hah, funny," he's muttering, "yer' really interested in me?" all you had murmured was a tempting, alluring little phrase that would remain with sukuna forever, something like, "want me to prove it?"

and that's exactly how you ended up like this. eyes blown wide, little hearts dancing around your pupils as you took in the sheer size and girth of what sukuna was hiding in his faded jeans. lips parting to close over the weeping tip of his thick shaft, and grinning at how there's already sheer, salty drops leaking out.

"fuck, w-wait," sukuna's groaning, with his spiky head of two-toned hair thrown back against your desk chair, "it's sensitive." clacking his sharp teeth around a wanton moan when you tongue at the veins bulging on the sides of his cock, "already feels like 'm gonna –"

"cum?" you offer helpfully, flattening your tongue against him so he throbs, hot and heavy, into your mouth. releasing yourself from his cock with a loud pop! and you're sure glad that your sorority roommates aren't home, for you're not sure how to explain that you're dripping wet yourself, just from sucking off the most infamous, ill-reputed nerd on campus.

"yeah, yeah," sukuna rasps, a heady and low tone that escapes from his chest, "and that would be e-embarrassing, fuck, that's — that's a good spot." sighing as you trail teasing fingers over folded skin, right at the underside of the base of his cock.

"not that embarrassing, 'kuna," you shake your head, loosening the slick strand of saliva that was stringing away from your lips. replacing your mouth with an entirely different type of gloss, and one that you're growing increasingly fond of, "and besides, we got a lotta' time before my roommates come back. plenty of other things we can do, hah."

﹙ 七海 建人 : nanami kento ﹚ ─ economics

"but i jus' think numbers are kind of beautiful, wouldn't you say? like they have their own satisfying figure and precision?"

you smack nanami's chest, leaving a small, cherry hue over your boyfriend's pectorals, "your girlfriend is literally under you, and you're talking about numbers being beautiful."

he gives you an apologetic smile, thick waves of golden hair dampened with the sweat of exertion that was to be expected when he was delivering the sweetest, most loving strokes to your very core. thick, bulging tip kissing your cervix as nanami huffs, "sorry, darling. nothing's more beautiful than my girl, and, heh, yer' figure is the one i love the most."

"that's better," you gasp, feeling him rummage through your swollen pussy. girthy shaft bulging past throbbing, dripping folds as he delivers hit after surefire hit against your g-spot. but then, suddenly, you're frowning, "don't you have class, like, right now, babe?"

nanami squeezes his eyes shut, amber lashes kissing peach-flushed skin. "yeah, had some tutorial," he groans, drawing his cock out of you almost entirely before he's snapping his hips back into you with such force that there's a resounding smack reverberating through his bedroom, "but heh, they don't really need me there. i already know all my shit."

"and you won't get in, i don't know, trouble?"

your boyfriend shakes his head, pushing aside the stack of stock market magazines littered near your head, so he can slam his hand down on the soft quilt. all so nanami can steady himself as he has only one purpose in mind, to make you cum. to make you see such stars of pleasure that you squirt all over his cock. and he can already picture your fucked-out form, hazy and littered with the marks of his loving. and drenched down below.

well, anatomically, it mustn't be possible but at the mere vision, nanami can feel himself harden even more. like his cock is responding to the hypnotising grip that you've got him in. hefty balls tightening further and he's rasping in your ear, "can i —, fuck, can i cum in ya', darling?" desperate and falling apart at the mere idea, at the way your eyes flutter shut in bliss, "only if yer' also wanting me to, i swear. but please –"

"yeah. in me, kento. baby, all yours."

that's all it really takes for thick, stringy wads of hot release to spurt out from nanami's weeping tip. cock releasing strands of gooey seed into your cunt in a way that makes your boyfriend press his forehead against yours, littering a thousand kisses against your fucked-out, smiling lips, "thank you, thank you, thank you, darling. i love you so much. can't even put it into words, but i love you —"

﹙ 伏黒 甚爾 : toji fushiguro ﹚ ─ physical education, kinesiology

"what the fuck did you jus' call me, ma?" toji's got a blunt nail trailing down your spine, running over the curve of your ass, "a nerd?"

you're writhing, "yeah, yeah. i mean, that's what everyone says," and it takes every cell in your body to fight back the inevitable release that toji's bestowing upon you. for you're determined to delay this just a little longer, to feel toji's thick cock slam into you from behind over and over in a way that you never really expected from the grumpy sports major.

and it seems the idea amuses him, for you don't even need to turn around to imagine how his sharp, jade-green eyes must be narrowing at the knowledge of what everyone calls toji fushiguro behind his back. how toji's sharp, shark-like grin must be widening, sharpening knives to sink into your shoulder, "why? 'cause i don't do that stupid, attention-seeking sports shit like everyone else in my degree? 'cause i don't wanna' waste my time on the field or in the locker rooms?"

"t-toji, it's 'cause you always got your damn nose in a book. and i didn't even know you could —," you shriek, feeling his burly forearm come up in front of you, past your bouncing breasts to support your weight as he presses further into you, "i honestly didn't even know you could fuckin' read."

"suchhh a nasty attitude, ma," toji chuckles, and your ass pleasurably stings at the resounding smacks echoing through the (thankfully) empty gymnasium. your lace panties pulled to the sides as you're balanced over the bleachers right in the very corner where the lonesome toji fushiguro prefers to sit, where no one else can bother him.

but damn, if he's not getting off on the idea of taking you so prettily like this. don't get him wrong, toji loves this position. loves how nasty and filthy your pretty arch is when he's swabbing his cock against your pussy. but fuck, he also wishes you were flipped around for him. just so he could press a thumb to your lower lip, and watch your eyes go all silly and crossed for him. while he tacked the thick curl of dark hair around his groin to your sticky, throbbing clit. battered your pretty cunt with his inches until that feisty lil' attitude melted away into sugar and cream.

you moan, such a wanton sound, when toji's thick fingers are climbing up your throat. past your jaw to settle at your mouth. pushing past your lip so you can drool so beautifully for him as he does his level best to at least regretfully silence the sexy sounds falling out of your lips.

"careful, ma," toji shudders, feeling the tight heat of your cunt snatch his soul away, "wanna' keep the volume down so those rocks-for-brains football players don't hear what's going on here. unless, you want them to see how the nerd's practically plowing your brains out, hah."

the resulting clench of your cunt tells toji all that he needs to know, and he has to bite back the furious blush crawling over him, underneath his faded varsity jacket, "oh? that's how it is? well, okay then. hold on."

﹙ 脹相 : choso kamo ﹚ ─ lab medicine, psychology

you know better than to sass choso when he's like this, the night before the final semester exam. see, because the man's got your thighs splayed so prettily out for him. glistening, and dripping all over his bedspread. and to the side, he's got that damn anatomy textbook flipped open.

choso's frustrated, sighing and flicking the pads of his fingers against his tongue to thumb at the sticking pages. rolling his eyes when he isn't able to find the passage that he wants, as if that's your fault. but you don't miss the hungry gleam in the raven-haired man's eyes, the spiky knots atop his head coming loose as he delves right back into his favourite meal. his favourite study snack being your glossy cunt, for he could munch on the slick strands forever.

"bear with me, my love," choso's cooing, trailing a slender, pale finger up your sticky folds until he comes to rest at your clit. tapping the throbbing bud once, "jus' gotta' memorise this, and you're helping me so much."

he's pressing a chaste, quaint kiss to your pulsing clit. that dark mark stretched across his face twitching as he murmurs, "ah, think, choso! right, the clitoral glans has, hmm, 8000 nerve endings. and it leads up to..." choso's drawing slow, teasing circles on your clit and it makes you whine, bucking your hips, "patience, my love. i'll reward you extra special for helpin' me out like this. now, it leads up to the clitoral shaft — and did i tell ya' what the crura is?"

you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you rut against choso's handsome nose for some delicious friction, and he clearly seems eager to indulge you, though he's still lost in academic thought, "right. i guess, baby, you could say the crura are kinda' like the legs for the clitoris. and they extend allll along the pelvic bones."

choso's marvelling the glossy, sheer slick coating his fingers. licking a flat stripe right against your swollen, eager cunt, "and the glans, well, my extended answer needs to mention how they, uh, damn, baby. you're soaked." he's shaking his head again, "i keep getting distracted. the glans — they're the ones with the alpha-delta, and c-fibres, and that's what makes you feel so good. transmitting sensations y'see, i get extra marks for mentioning that."

you hazard a glance to the shining pages of the new textbook that choso's kept on his shelf all semester, "and the, uh, the pudendal reflex? you got a sticky note on that one, babe?"

choso smiles, slowly flicking your clitoral hood in up and down motions, each movement sending simmering pleasure through your groin, "a spinal reflex, m'love. helps with the involuntary muscle contractions, like when i do this —," flatting the pad of his thumb against your clit to run tighter circles against the aching nub, watching as your hips jolt up further against his face. coating the lower half of his features in translucent arousal.

"now, my favourite part," choso says, grinning as he turns his attentions elsewhere, to your dripping entrance pooling such a mess over his sheets. and your boyfriend's tugging at his grey sweatpants, "the grafenberg spot. i don't think my fingers will be enough to stimulate it properly."

[onskepa]

Hi how are you? If you want, could you tell us what your headcanons would be for what the Sully children's relationship would be like with a human/avatar mother who was mated with Jake and Neytiri? Thank you very much, have a great day!

I can see a lot of possible outcomes for this one! So here ya go! Enjoy!

P.S: Reader will not be given a name in this one, instead she will be called "small mama"

Pinnacle protection

-------------------------------

Pinnacle motherhood

Right off the bat, the whole family loves their third mother, second mate. Jake sully couldn't ask for a better family, and better mates. Especially his little human mate. Neytiri will agree with him, while yes she has her children to hug, her little mate is just what she needs. Something small yet full of love just for her. 

Now like any trio, there is a balance between the parents. Jake is the head of the family, the brains with his clever ideas. Neytiri at times can be the brains but most muscle due to her skills in fighting and hunting. And their beloved human is the heart of the family. Keeping everyone together. 

And like any child, the sully kids will have favorites. And their favorite is their amazing human mother. She is the most fun, loving parent any child could ever ask for. Are they not getting their way with Jake or neytiri? To mama it is! And mama will always fold by the simple look of her kids. 

Another thing about their favorite mama, they all believe she has the power to read their minds. How else would it explain she knows their next move? 

Lo’ak and tuk can recall so many instances where they were barely forming an idea only for their mama to say “dont even think about it” or “it is not worth the trouble”. 

For neteyam, as he is the oldest he does try to be a good example for his mischievous siblings, along with holding so many responsibilities, but he can always count on his small mama for anything. Small mama consoles him, talking about anything neteyam has his mind about. 

Unlike Jake or neytiri who neteyam has to put up a strong warrior face, with a small mama he can revert back to being a baby with her. He feels safe and be a kid again with her. And small mama always called him her “little baby boy”. Neteyam won't admit it but he likes it when she calls him that. 

For kiri, she definitely adores her small mama. She is closer to her third parent than she is with neytiri. Not to be mean or anything. But with Jake, Kiri can talk about what odd things happen around her, ask her about her mother and stuff but with her small mama. Well, she can express far more with her, be free to say anything not be judged upon. Kiri can dare say small mama understands her more than anyone in the world.

With tuk, the baby of the family. Why, she loves to be the taller one, it makes her happy. Of course she would never tease her small mama that she is taller, but small mama would call her “tiny tuk”. A name tuk loves and will glady flex it for some reason. 

If tuk can't go somewhere with her older siblings, small mama would personally take her anywhere she wants to go. As long as it is safe. With small mama, everything is fun and never boring. Tuk loves the times where her hair is braided or she braids small mama’s hair. 

Now, if small mama would use her avatar, nothing much would change. Except that now the kids will demand piggy back rides. Tuk or lo’ak would be front of the line for that.  

Hunting would be easier and much more fun with jake and neytiri, running, riding their ikrans, less risk overall. 

Even with her avatar, she is still short compared to her two mates. She is smaller than Neytiri by 9 ½ inches. Not something she is super thrilled about. No matter what body, she is still small mama through and through. 

Small mama is forever grateful to live her best life with her family, loving them and saying her thanks to Eywa for blessing her to be the best of her two worlds. Through hardships, through trials, small mama has a mighty heart and a roar of an ikran. Yes sometimes she might be stressed or frustrated but life is not perfect. Small mama knows that all too well. But there is nothing better than what she has. 

[zaczenemiji]

Hi! Just saw your request are open. I thought it would be a great to request a OS of Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader.

I got inspired by that song of "Too Sweet" from Hozier and I got the idea of how good is Reader with Emi, (since she knows he's Ultraman and also raises a baby Kaiju alone) such a Sunshine, even Emi sees her as a new maternal figure, he thinks she's too sweet, getting the idea of having kids with her but having the thought she deserves better.

But she thinks on the contrary, he's such a bad boy with a good heart. If you wanna add more things, it's up to you. I'll leave it to your imagination. Take your time and no need to rush. Take care.

Too Good, Too True

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,456

Genre/Warnings: Established Relationship, Found Family

Author’s Note: Particularly in love with this one, and Too Sweet plays rent-free in my head.

MASTERLIST

You know everything about Kenji: his past—the reason he’s distant from his dad, his secret—that he’s Ultraman, and his love child the 20-foot-tall kaiju baby in his basement.

You guys have been together for a long while now, even before everyone knew him as Ken Sato, the baseball star—the one whose name dominates the headlines.

With millions of adoring fans, you’re grateful you still have a place in his life. At first, there was a looming thought at the back of your head that tells you how easily replaceable you are.

No matter how you repress the thought, the fact remains that it is true. Who are you when compared to Kenji? You weren’t a model, an icon, a singer, or the daughter of a CEO—like all the other women waiting in line for him.

You were just… you. Simply (y/n) in her soft pastel and floral dresses. You don’t own a lot either, just a flower shop in LA. Your favorite hobby is tending to your garden where you grew the flowers that you sold.

All of your issues regarding this have long been resolved since Kenji has always been quick to reassure you of his love. That to him, everything and anyone else pails in comparison to you. He wishes you knew your impact on his life.

You have always been his breath of fresh air. It started at college during his baseball trainings, he’d wait for a certain girl to pass by. His eyes were always quick to find you among your group of friends.

On his games, you were his number one cheerleader. Your friends and his teammates were always so surprised to see the quiet dainty girl that you were yelling and cheering for his name.

Back when his mom was around, you got along with her so well. Kenji would find you and his mom in their kitchen baking cakes and making cute little pastries.

His mom loved having you around. You were always welcome at his house. When she found out that you were an international student who flew to LA alone and lived in a dorm, she almost wanted to adopt you.

But ain’t no way Kenji wanted to be just a brother in your life.

Many things have changed since then. In becoming a baseball star, half of his life was no longer private. In becoming Ultraman, his responsibilities were no longer limited to that of his career and personal life. And in becoming a daddy to a kaiju baby, he realized you deserve better.

You came over to his house every day to visit Emi. He admired your patience with her and how you were always a ray of sunshine to everyone, including a kaiju. And you’re not afraid of playing with her even if she could literally crush you out of nowhere.

You’d come over with fresh flowers picked from your parents’ garden. You’d make big flower crowns just for Emi and smaller ones for yourself and Mina.

Today was a particularly rough day as Kenji got home from a game. You wanted to accompany him today but he insisted for you to watch over Emi. He has been feeling like shit lately, not knowing what to do with Emi and his declining performance in his games.

Upon passing by the kitchen table, he sees a can of his favorite fizzy drink. Under it, a note. He lifted the can and read, “left this up here so mina won’t see (���- .•)”

For the first time that day, he smiled. You’ve always told him how lucky you thought you were for being with someone as great as him. But the truth is, it’s the other way around.

In one go, he finished his drink so he could immediately head down to see you. You and Mina were too busy playing with Emi to notice him. He stayed at the lounge where he could see you from the other side of the glass.

There you were, beautiful, with flowers adorning your hair. You looked so pure and innocent. Your gentle demeanor had always put him at ease.

Your expressive eyes looked up at Emi in an attempt to communicate beyond words. Kenji loved your eyes. They were always filled with warmth and kindness but when you look at him, all he sees is love.

On the contrary, there’s him. He and his troubled past.

He is distant from his dad, wanting little to no connection with him. If it wasn’t for his mom, he wouldn’t have returned to Japan.

You weren’t like that. You had a good relationship with your parents. You deserve someone who could give you and your future children the same kind of environment you grew up in—peaceful and without the fear of the possibility that one day, your husband might not come home.

He worries he’d be like his dad, absent. He is Ultraman now. His duties would one day require him to be away, sometimes without notice and for extended periods. You deserve someone who can be there for you consistently.

He is constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye, both as Ultraman and the baseball star that he is. And the public is not often gentle. You deserve a private and peaceful life, away from the criticisms of society.

Kenji loves you dearly, he really does. But oftentimes, he thinks he’s not the best person for you. He thinks you deserve someone who can offer you a simpler and safer life.

Too deep in his thoughts, he failed to notice you enter the room. The kiss you gave on his cheek pulled him back to reality.

“Tough day?” You asked, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But I’m okay now. You’re here now.” He turned to look at you, his rest.

“Would you like to talk about your day?” You asked, reaching out to brush strands of his hair away from his face.

He shook his head. “I’d like to hear about yours first.”

You smiled, excited to tell him what you planned on doing. Since he’s staying here in Japan for good, you thought you would too. The flower shop in LA would be left in a good friend’s care. And here, you thought of working as a kindergarten teacher. You had doubts before but after being able to take care of Emi and enjoying it, you were now sure that this is the kind of job for you.

Kenji’s expression shifted upon knowing this. A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked. “Do you not approve?”

“You deserve better,” he said, eyes falling downward before turning away to lean properly on the couch.

Confused, you leaned back as well. “Better job?” You asked. “Kenji, I think this is the bes—“

“Better than a guy who’s got a kaiju baby to take care of and a past, present, and future that’s complicated,” he continued his earlier statement, cutting you mid-sentence.

You were shocked. You never expected him to feel this way. You felt bad because for every time he assured you of his love, you failed to realize that he needed reassurance too.

“Oh no, Kenji,” you said. You turned his face to look at you, cupping it with both of your hands. “You’re a good man.”

“I’m worried, (y/n),” he said softly. “I worry that I can’t give you the life you deserve.“

He wants to marry you, he truly does. He dreamed of having children with you, teaching them, watching them grow. And when all is done, living the rest of his life with you.

When he passes by jewelry stores, he always thinks of you. He’d get in, and browse their selection of rings, but thinking of how you’re too sweet for him holds him back from buying.

"You're the best man for me, Kenji. Not despite your past and your duties, but because of them. They've shaped you into the person I love,” you told him.

“You're a wonderful father to Emi. And if you ever wanted more—if you ever wanted us to be more,” you leaned in to press your forehead on his. “I know you'll be an amazing father because of how you love me every day.”

Kenji closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the tension slowly leaving his body. "You really believe that?"

"Every word," you said softly. "You are my home, Kenji. As long as we're together, I'm not afraid of anything."

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, (y/n),” he said. “I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," you replied, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves

[lyrefromthesea]

HELLLLLAAAAW THEEERRRE, LISTEN (or read), I've been thinking. THAT I LOVE UR WRITING A LOOOOT, and I've been waiting but before that, idrk if u take req rn so feel free to discard this request! anyway, back to main topic, I've been wondering how the hashira's would react to reader/their s/o, adoring their hands a lot, like i mean— obsessed with their hands, whether its holding hands in public (or privately, if the character does not really like showing affection in public), or maybe yk hold hands in bed HWGAHGAHWHS, maybe, something like soft nsfw, like with fluff! u get me? just the character, comforting their s/o when they get too tense during their sexual intercourse, andddddd more fluff if u want! thank u for taking ur time to read!!

Male Hashira x Reader - Hold my hands

author's note: my fever has killed me a few times during this post.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: nsfw, sexual intercourse (Rengoku, Giyuu), mildly suggestive (Sanemi)

Tengen:

• who knows exactly what his hands can do to you and despite his teasing nature uses them for your comfort

• enjoys seeing you calm down because of his hands and though he doesn't want you to feel bad he certainly doesn't mind calming you down

he's been looking towards the sky for quite some time now, sitting under the tree with the person he adored most.

you were so strong, so sure of your actions-

and sometimes you felt insecure and the worry seemed to consume you. he understood it, he understood your fear of failure and the future that would follow.

that's why he had no problems consoling you when you needed it most, taking his time to sit with you in silence. words weren't needed in these times, only the comfort of his presence.

he allowed himself to glance down at you, feeling the tender touches of your fingers on his. you were strong, he didn't doubt that, but your body felt so fragile compared to his own.

the difference in the size of your hands proved it to him every single time. he knew you could protect yourself, but if you couldn't, he would be there for you.

"i think i'm feeling better." you said, your eyes finally focusing on his face instead of his hands. you had been touching and playing with his fingers for quite some time now, your hold on them decreasing.

"ya sure? you still look down." he answered, earning a hesitant nod from you. feeling your hand let go of him made him act, bringing his own hand up to the back of your head.

"i don't believe it and lying is not flashy in my eyes. let's stay a bit longer." you were quite surprised when he pressed your head against his chest, looking up at the sky again.

somehow he always knew what you needed, even when you didn't admit it. and with a gentle smile, as well as his hand running through your hair, you sunk into a deep slumber.

Obanai:

• who is surprised when he found out you were fascinated by his hands.

• someone like you adoring a feature of his? the mere thought made him blush when he was laying awake at night.

• who enjoys holding your hand just as much as you, often turning into a blushing mess.

he knew he wasn't as strong as most other hashira. he was smaller, physically weaker. of course it gave him one or two advantages, like a flexibility the tall males around him could only dream about.

yet he secretly found himself craving their strength - at least a part of it. he wouldn't complain about a bit more arm strength, but that would remain a dream of his.

the moment he found himself content with the lack of strength he possessed clearly came with you. you had been sitting next to each other, simply enjoying the time you could spend together. at least that was what he was doing, your mind had long drifted away.

he tensed up when he felt your fingers brush over his, holding his hand. your thumb brushed over his knuckles comfortingly.

he didn't dare look at you, only turning towards you when he felt you glancing, uncertainty rising inside you with his current expression. his hand reached out to you when he felt you pull away.

"i shouldn't have done that, i'm sorry." you said, trying to escape any rising feeling of shame. you just didn't expect him to hold your hand tighter.

"don't stop." he answered, his tone letting it appear much more like a quiet plead. surprise overtook you, quickly replaced by a comforting shyness.

your fingers interlocked with his once more, this time with switched positions. you felt goosebumps appear on your skin, your cheeks heating up.

"your hands are soft, [name].."

Rengoku:

• whether it's in public or at home, he enjoys holding your hand just as much as you like holding his

• however, one attractive thing he does is taking your hand after overstimulating you

"honey.." he pants, trying not to cum a second time from the way you were squeezing around him, body basically trying to milk him even in your current state.

it had started a few hours ago, when he came home from a long mission. he had missed you during his time in the snowy mountains, deciding that his arrival would be the perfect moment to show you how much he appreciates your body.

having to cum multiple times - first his fingers, then his tongue and now his cock - was just too much for your poor body.

of course Rengoku realized that, seeing you shake and tremble under him, small tears running down your flushed cheeks. you were still caught up in your orgasm, trying to even out your breathing pattern.

"it's okay, we're done. breathe, little flame." he panted, hands letting go of the sheets of your shared bed, sitting upright and looking down at you.

he didn't pull out, simply admiring your panting form laying on the bed. his hands snaked along your arms, holding your hands and pressing them into the matress.

feeling the warmth of his palm press against yours got your attention, a silent moan leaving your lips. "are you okay?" the question made you nod quietly, finally being able to register the world around you again.

"'m so sore.." you mumbled, watching the man above you laugh, squeezing your hands in response.

Sanemi:

• he absolutely loves it

• you clearly developed a liking to your hand and he's fully using that to fluster you

• taking you by surprise is his favorite

you've been standing in the kitchen, making sure all the medical herbs you've received were in their right place. you needed to make sure they're easily accessible when Sanemi came home injured.

in your concentrated state, you didn't notice the tall man approaching you slowly - lurking like a predator.

and then you shriek, feeling a slap land on your ass. out of reflex you leaned forward, your head quickly turning around to find Sanemi right behind you.

"missed me?" he teased, stepping closer until he was right behind you, hands placed on the counter on either side of you. he pressed his body against yours with a smirk, resulting in your face getting a lot warmer than before.

"Sanemi! you always do this!" you scolded him, trying to turn around from the sheer embarrassment you just faced or rather the excitement that pooled in your body.

"what can i say? can't resist you with a fine ass like that." he chuckled, letting go of the counter to squeeze your behind with his calloused fingers, earning a whine from you.

"and truthfully, i think you can't resist me either." hearing him whisper into your ear, hand traveling up your side, made you stare at the watch.

he was right, you couldn't resist him, nor could he resist you. besides, the herbs could wait for a while.

Giyuu:

• initially he was the one that liked holding your hands, it was the most simple form of physical touch he could come up with

• still a touch-starved man, WILL have his hands on you the whole time when you're making love.

• knows it gets you more exited, wouldn't judge you for it either, since he gets just as exited when he sees you

"Oh~ baby.." he gasped, head resting against the headboard of your bed. he watched you lazily bounce up and down his cock, trying to work yourself into ecstacy.

whenever you were sharing such passionate moments with each other, he could feel his fingers twitch with the need to hold onto your body - onto you.

they first slid up your thighs, holding onto your hips, guiding you to grind back against him. he loved the feeling of your warmth and he loved the reactions his hands could coax out of you.

he didn't miss out on the way your lips opened in a silent cry, begging to feel his hands run over your body, around your neck or anything else that allowed you to feel them.

and of course he'll answer.

"hold.. hold my hands.. i want to feel you.." he moans, letting go of your hips only to intertwine his fingers with yours, feeling your hips stutter.

he certainly knew how to exploit your weakness for his hands - especially since he was just as weak for you.

Gyomei:

• likes using his hands to calm you down

• they're like a security rope connecting the two of you when the situation makes uncertainty rise within you

"my dearest child, are you ready to serve as a hashira?" the soothing voice of master Kagaya usually managed to calm you down, but not today.

you sat in front of him, a private meeting being held between the two of you and a pillar of choice. naturally, you went with the one you trusted most - the stone pillar.

it would've been an honor to serve as a hashira, every demon slayer knew that, but being confronted with the choice of being one, you found yourself unsure.

the pillars were the strongest humans you had ever set your eyes on, you weren't sure if you could stand by their side.

lowering your head in shame, you were ready to decline the master's offer. however, you were stopped by the blind man next to you.

he placed a large hand on your back, the warmth seeping into your skin slowly calming you down, letting you think properly.

you weren't chosen without a reason, if the master wanted you to become a hashira, he trusted in your talent.

swallowing down your uncertainty, you nodded with little to no hesitance. "i'm ready."

next to you, still his hand on your back, Gyomei found himself smiling. if it was his presence you needed to make a decision, he'd gladly do this for you everytime.

[starmapz]

what you know - ch5: hero || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. reader has a vagina. slow burn. anxiety. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.2k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Tuesday, 10:44 PM Have lunch with us tomorrow!

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Tuesday, 10:59 PM am i allowed to say no

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Tuesday, 11:03 PM Nope! :)

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Tuesday, 11:05 PM lucky me

If there’s one thing you can say about your friendship with Sukuna, it’s that he’s a lot funnier than all the rumors surrounding him give him credit for.

That, and that you’ve gotten a lot better at checking your email.

Pulling into the parking lot nearest to the campus library, you put the car in park and turn to the passenger’s seat to grab your bag. When you turn back, a startlingly tall figure is trudging through the snow towards you, salmon hair poking out from his hood standing as a dead giveaway as to who it is.

Rolling down your window, you call out to him. “Sukuna?”

He jogs towards you at the sound of your voice, resting his forearms on the edge of your car where the window is lowered. A paper cup adorned in a local coffee shop logo in each of his hands grabs your attention as he dips his head into your car and, more importantly, right into your personal space. Your heart races at the close proximity, keeping your attention on the cups in his hands in an effort to keep your thoughts in order.

“Shit, it’s cold,” he grumbles. “I swear it was just fall.”

Don’t say it, don't say it, don't say it- “You could always light yourself on fire again.”

Sukuna’s face deadpans. “Play your games, brat. I’m more than happy to have your drink,” he sneers, ducking his head back out of his window and into the cold as he attempts to turn away.

“Wait wait wait!” You giggle, reaching out to tug him back into the window as you pull on his coat sleeve. He scowls at you, letting you pull him back into the heat of your car despite his grumpy demeanor.

“D’you want your drink or not?” He grumbles, holding one of the cups out a bit further.

Curiously, you take it from him, smiling as it warms your hands. Bringing the cup up to your lips, you cautiously take a sip, your tongue swiping your lips when you pull it back to look at it with a crease between your brow.

“How’d you know my exact order?” You ask, wracking your brain for if you had told him at some point.

“I’m just that good,” he smirks, taking a sip of his own drink that smells like the most caffeinated black coffee you’ve ever bore witness to.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and Sukuna clearly isn’t about to let you in on his secret. With a soft sigh, you resign yourself to not knowing.

“Thanks, Kuna.”

He grunts in reply, taking another sip of his overpoweringly aromatic coffee.

“Are you gonna come study?” You query as you set your drink down in a cup holder to zip up your coat and pull your backpack up over your shoulder. Sukuna backs away from the door as you get out of your car and grab your drink.

“Nah, gotta turn in a paper.”

“See you at lunch, then?” You tilt your head to get a better view of Sukuna towering over you.

He grimaces, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “Suppose so.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” you tease.

“Can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to getting torn apart by your friends.” He takes a sip of his coffee, tucking his other hand into his pocket to fiddle with his lighter, though he’s careful not to start a fire this time.

“I’ll talk to them. It won’t be that bad,” you promise, giving him your best reassuring smile.

Sukuna pauses to examine your expression, his gaze flickering between your eyes and down to your smile. He knows you well enough to spot the crack in your facade, the barely-there flash of doubt in your eyes that tells him that your friends won’t forgive him so easily, but he owes you regardless, so he doesn’t have much of a choice at the end of the day but to trust you.

And trust you, he does. He’s not sure what it is about your calming presence and sunny demeanor, but you seem to pull the best from him and even in the turmoil that his life has become, he finds himself seeking that familiar warmth.

It’s for that reason that he’ll bear whatever it is that your friends deem a necessary punishment for him, even if it irks him.

He hums in reply, glancing down at his watch as he sets the thought aside. “Gotta go. Later,” he says abruptly as he turns to leave in usual Sukuna fashion.

“See you later, thanks for the drink!”

He casts a glance over his shoulder at you with a smirk before throwing his hood up over his head and trudging off into the snow. You follow suit, pulling your hood up with a shiver as the wind whips around you, reminding you just what season it is. Tucking your hands into your pockets, you jog towards the library and barge through the doors with as much poise as you can muster given the cold you’ve just run from.

Shoko’s head lifts from her book as you approach the table where she and Kento are hunched over their textbooks while Haibara is typing away on his laptop. With a huff, you take a seat across from Shoko and beside Kento.

“I can’t believe it got this cold and snowy so quickly,” you whisper, shivering as you toss your coat over the back of the chair.

“Welcome to winter,” Shoko sighs, fiddling with a coffee cup that matches your own.

“Oh!” Haibara looks up from his laptop with a pleased expression. “Good, you did get your drink!”

With a tilt of your head, you hold the paper cup out in front of you, glancing around the table as you realize all three of them have matching cups to yours.

“Yeah, um, Sukuna brought it for me,” you smile, bringing the cup towards your chest as if the thought makes you starstruck. Maybe it does, just a bit. 

“I ran into him at the cafe. He actually came up and said hi, would you believe that? I mean, he just wanted your order, but I thought it was pretty nice for him.” Haibara beams, leaning back in his chair with a bright smile that you share. Kento and Shoko exchange a less enthusiastic glance, privy to information Haibara doesn’t have on your former project partner.

“That explains how he got my order right,” you giggle to yourself, pleased when Haibara laughs along with you. Maybe it’ll be good to have him at your side for lunch today to break the tension between Sukuna and your friends. “Oh yeah, he’s gonna join us for lunch.”

With Haibara sitting at the table, Kento and Shoko keep their mouths shut, but their displeasure doesn’t need to be voiced based on the frowns you receive.

“Can we talk, actually?” Shoko speaks up, pushing herself up from the table.

Your heart drops, but you nod, gingerly following as she leads you into the hall outside the library. It’s dead quiet, even more so than the library itself which was filled with the sounds of paper turning and pens scratching. Now, the silence seems to close in on you as your closest friend turns to you with an exasperated sigh.

“Listen girl, you know I love you.”

“That’s just about the worst start to this I could have hoped for,” you joke with a nervous laugh in hopes of lightening the mood.

Shoko smiles. “I promise it’s not that bad. I’m just worried and I won’t sit by with Kento and watch while Sukuna breaks your heart. Once is a mistake, but twice?”

The guilty look on your face causes her to sigh again, but before you can give her a better explanation, she continues.

“You’re too forgiving for your own good sometimes and I know you didn’t want to mention the kids to Kento, but can you at least tell me what his excuse was? I just want to make sure he isn’t taking advantage of you.”

You chew on your lip, knowing your explanation won’t help Sukuna’s case. “Well, he hasn’t exactly told me, but-”

“He hasn’t told you?” She parrots with a raised brow, rubbing her temple.

“Wait, wait, just listen!” You plead, grabbing her shoulders. “He told me there was an emergency with the kids and he doesn’t want me involved in it. I told him this is his last chance and he’s trying, Sho.”

She grimaces, the gears turning in her mind as she weighs her opinions on him based only on what you’ve told her. “You better have meant it when you told him this is his last chance,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “I know he’s got a lot on his plate but that doesn’t give him any excuse to treat you like you’re disposable.”

“I won’t let him,” you promise. “And he won’t,” you assure her. He hasn’t gained the entirety of your trust back, but you can see that he’s putting in a notable effort to earn it and you want so badly to believe that the Sukuna you’re getting to know will stick around.

In all honesty, you think the begrudgingly kind and thoughtful version of him you’re getting to know is the real Sukuna, beneath the layers of grumpiness and stress and anger that go hand-in-hand with that warmth that he seldom shows around others. Hardened by a life that’s been nothing but tough on him, you’re privy to another side of him. One that has a good time teasing and making jokes, who enjoys music, movies, and video games and has a love for art. Sure, he’s still got an attitude and a penchant for being easily annoyed (and annoying), but behind all those walls is a person that anyone would be happy to spend time with.

He just needs a little bit of help and some rest to show that side of himself, help that he has a hard time accepting over his pride.

With a deep sigh, Shoko resigns to your beseeching. “You really like him, huh?”

Your cheeks warm, unable to hide the smile that finds its way to your lips, although you don’t respond. She has her answer in the form of your giddy smile as you shuffle from one foot to the other.

“I’ve never seen you like this before. The heart wants what it wants, I guess.”

“So you’ll give him a chance at lunch today?” You plead, squeezing her shoulders lightly.

She takes a moment to consider your words before dramatically rolling her eyes as she pulls you in for a hug. “One wrong move and I’m whooping his ass.”

“I won’t stop you, promise.”

She pulls back and begins heading back to the library. “He’s been helping you with History, right? Can we go over that? I’m so behind,” she whispers as she crosses into the library. The sound of pages turning and pencils scribbling is a relief in comparison to the silence of the empty reading week halls.

“Sounds good!”

–

With a shiver, you brush the snow from your jacket as you make your way into the lunch hall, unzipping it as you’re met with warm air. There’s a few more students around than there has been the last few days, likely the result of the power going out in some of the dorms from the whispers you’d been hearing.

Making your way to your usual table, you pull out some leftovers from a couple of nights ago and make your way to the microwave.

When you return to your seat, the table has gained an air of awkwardness that you suppose you were expecting, and Sukuna is seated to the right of your chair. Haibara seems to be doing what he can to mediate the table and Shoko’s half-hearted replies are better than nothing, at the very least. Kento seems less than pleased, but he’s entertaining Haibara if nothing else.

“Hey!” You beam at Sukuna. His gaze flickers up to you and he nods in reply. The rest of the table seems to relax at your arrival, but the tension remains palpable. Tough crowd.

Taking a seat beside Sukuna, you turn to him as Shoko and Haibara talk about something they watched the night before, entertaining Kento with the drama of it all. “How did turning in your paper go?” You ask the tattooed man who’s leaning against his knuckles, propped up by his elbow on the table.

He yawns before he replies. “Fine. Should get a good grade,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’m glad,” you smile, taking a bite of your lunch. “Did you bring anything to eat?”

“Yeah, leftovers from last night.” With a grunt, he leans down to his bag as though it took a nominal amount of effort, pulling a container from his bag. Setting the container down, he sighs heavily.

With a sympathetic smile, you lower your voice. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face as he glances around the table to make sure no one’s listening. “Cho’s been having nightmares and it’s catchin’ up with me.”

“Aww,” you pout. “Poor kid.”

“He’ll be alright,” Sukuna assures you, or at least you think he’s assuring you. “They both will.”

You purse your lips, examining the distance in his sunken eyes. You may be sitting beside him, but there’s a strange feeling that you’re watching him from outside, as though there’s a barrier of glass between you. Before you can question him any further, he changes the subject.

“How’s studying for History goin’?” He casts a glance at Shoko, just long enough to catch her eye and invite her into the conversation. It’s small, but it is a noticeable effort from Sukuna to include her.

“We were just going through it, actually. I feel way better about that final already,” you smile, eyes bright as you exchange a glance with Shoko.

Her cautious gaze softens and she nods in agreement. “Yeah. Thanks for the help.”

“Mm.” Sukuna hums, turning towards you with a smirk. “So if I ask about the Berlin Blockade-”

“Oh no,” you groan.

“- you can tell me how many air corridors the Soviets granted for cargo and trades and where they were granted to?”

Sukuna’s pretty sure he sees your eyes glaze over in dread and confusion from just one question, as though your confidence has fizzled out. He chuckles, amused.

“One question at a time. D’ya remember how many air corridors there were?”

You sigh. “This isn’t what I was hoping for when I invited you for lunch,” you grumble as you pull your history textbook out. “Three. There were three.”

“Good. Where were they granted to?”

“Um…” you take a deep breath, wracking your brain for information. “Frankfurt.”

“Mhm.”

“Hamburg.”

“Good.”

You chew on your lip, peering over at him with a blank stare that tells him you haven’t the faintest clue.

“Open your textbook,” he instructs.

You flip to the chapter about the Cold War, searching for information about the Berlin Blockade. Your eyes scan the pages and eventually come across all three locations. “Bückeberg.”

“Good. Who was the foreign minister at the time?”

The look you shoot Sukuna is too cute. You look completely and utterly lost, immediately searching your textbook. “Vyacheslav Molotov,” you reply after a moment, pointing at a black and gray photo of a man.

“Yes,” Sukuna agrees, reaching for your hand. His fingers are rough and calloused when he wraps them around yours, moving your hand an inch to the left to a different photo. “But you pointed at Stalin.”

“O- oh.” You tear your gaze from his much larger hand wrapped around yours to the two photos, using every shred of willpower you can muster to commit the photos to memory. Whether it’s because you’re burnt out on studying, or because the size of Sukuna’s hand is sending your mind reeling to places you’re not willing to admit aloud, your heart is pounding and you can only pray Sukuna’s fingers aren’t low enough on your wrist to feel your pulse. “My bad,” you barely manage to whisper.

Sukuna pulls his hand back, laying it next to yours on the table. “You were close,” he shrugs, not thinking much of it.

With a sharp intake of breath to clear your head, you pull your notebook aside and write down the answers you missed. “I should know this by now,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else. Barely audibly, you tack on, “we’ve studied so much.”

Sukuna arches a brow, thoughtfully looking down at you. “It’s not a big deal. You actually know the history itself well, you’re just bad with names, dates, and faces.”

With pursed lips, you give him your attention, considering his words for a moment.

“What’s the reason for the Berlin Blockade?” He quizzes.

“To weaken Germany,” you reply without a moment’s thought.

He smirks, nudging your shoulder and keeping in close proximity with you. “See, you’re fine. That’s why I’ve been quizzin’ you on the more important shit.”

“I guess you’re right. Won’t there be a lot of names on the test though?”

“Nah. It’s like a seventy-thirty split,” he shrugs.

“Thirty’s a lot,” you mumble, your face falling at the thought of getting a seventy, and that’s only if you get a perfect score across every other question.

“Seventy is a lot,” he corrects, a playful smirk slathered across his lips. “Or are you a princess about your grades?” He teases as his lips turn up into a grin.

You force a smile, entertaining his teasing. “I know you’re right, but-” you pause, looking up into those striking crimson irises. He’s so close to you and regards you with so much mirth that your breath unintentionally hitches in your throat. “- um,” you continue shakily, “I could lose my scholarship if my grades aren’t good enough.”

Sukuna’s eyes briefly widen. “You’re on a scholarship?”

“Yeah, I need higher than a seventy on this final.”

He lets out a long breath through his nose. “Alright then, princess. We’ll aim higher.”

Did your mouth just go dry from one word? God are you really in that deep?

“Thanks, Kuna.” You nudge him back, earning you another entirely too handsome grin.

“Mm.” His grin falters at the nickname, but he forces down his disdain for it.

You’re so caught up in your conversation with Sukuna, that you don’t see Haibara kick Kento and Shoko from under the table and direct their attention to your interactions with Sukuna. Even stoic Kento who was beyond pissed with Sukuna can’t deny that the sight could weaken even the hardest resolve against the man.

–

“I don’t WANNA!”

You lower your fist from Sukuna’s door the following night, pausing at the chaos from within his apartment. The anger and frustration just beyond the door is practically bursting out into the hall and you’re sure the moment it opens, it’ll metaphorically slap you in the face. Taking in a sharp breath, you raise your hand again.

“I won’t ask again,” comes Sukuna’s raised voice, straining to keep his anger down.

… And now you can hear sobbing.

You softly tap your knuckles against the door, half expecting to need to wait for someone to let you in but Sukuna swings the door open immediately. It slams shut behind you once you’ve cleared the entryway and the scene inside is equally as ugly as it sounds.

Choso is nowhere to be seen, Yuji is in tears and Sukuna is about to blow a gasket.

Oh boy.

“What’s- um-” You pause, debating whether you should even ask. “- Going on?” You question mousily.

“Go on brat, what’s going on?” Sukuna hisses, his chest rising and falling as fury courses through his veins.

Yuji’s too busy sobbing to reply, shaking his head adamantly as he wipes at his face, snot running down his chin.

“Fucking christ,” Sukuna mutters, exasperated. He runs a hand through his pink hair, turning on his heel away from the scene in an effort to keep calm. Whatever patience he’d had for this had run dry during their walk home from school and with the mess his life had become, he was already worn extremely thin.

As Yuji continues to bawl and Sukuna leans over the kitchen counter gathering himself, you decide to step in.

You make your way across the living room to Yuji, kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, sweetheart.” Your voice is gentle and you offer a sympathetic smile. “Everything’s alright, don’t cry,” you soothe as you reach out and gently rub the sides of his arms. “Do you want a hug?”

Yuji nods adamantly, hiccuping through the tears as he reaches out for you. You pull him in for a tight hug, rubbing his back reassuringly. Sure to keep your voice soft and gentle, you give him a moment before speaking up.

“What happened, Yu?”

“K-Kuna’s-” sniffle. “- he’s m-making me get a-” Yuji’s voice breaks as the tears set in again. “A-” hiccup. “- needleeeeee.” He sobs into your shoulder, burying his face into your neck. You let out a breath at the realization that it’s just an argument that’s been blown completely out of proportion. Life was so much easier when the hardest thing you had to endure was vaccinations.

“I’m sorry honey,” you coo, continuing to rub his back. You let him sob into your shoulder before pulling back to look at him. At the sight of your face, so gentle and calm, he starts to sniffle more and less tears flow down his cheeks. “There you go,” you smile, noticing now that there’s a very crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

Yuji wipes his face on his arm, his breath coming in short gasps as he slowly calms down.

“Can I see that?” You ask, holding your hand out.

“No,” he whines, holding it behind his back.

“Alright,” you smile again, deciding it’s best to reason with him.

You cast a glance back to Sukuna. His palms are splayed on the counter as he leans his weight over the surface, staring down at it. All of his muscles are tense as his back rises and falls steadily with each breath he uses to calm his own anger. They really are two sides of the same coin.

“Is your school doing vaccinations?”

Yuji nods.

“Is that your permission form?”

He shakes his head.

“Are you lying?”

He hesitates before nodding. You have to stifle a laugh at his completely shameless lie, your smile lopsided.

“Can we talk it through?” You ask, sitting cross-legged before Yuji.

He blinks a few times as he considers your question before plopping himself down on the floor in front of you. He glances down at the way you’re seated, following suit and setting his permission form juuust out of reach. Sneaky kid.

“Are you scared of needles?”

Yuji’s silent, thinking for a moment before he decidedly nods.

“Okay, that’s normal. Are you afraid it’ll hurt?” You query, tilting your head at him.

“It will,” he replies with an edge of certainty, sniffling.

“Maybe for a moment, but do you know what the needle’s for?”

“Um-” he wipes under his eyes, his face scrunching up in deep thought. “- no.”

“It’s so that you don’t get sick. Do you remember being sick the other week, sweetheart?”

“... yeah.” He continues to sniffle and wipe at his face, looking up at you between each movement as he waits for you to continue.

“Well, there’s sicknesses that are a lot worse than that, and your brother doesn’t want you to get them,” you explain, glancing back at the sound of Sukuna shuffling. He pushes himself up from the counter, listening as intently as Yuji is as he makes his way a short distance behind you. His disgruntled expression trains on the sight of you sitting alongside his little brother, but he’s silent. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to get poked for a moment and not get one of those sicknesses?”

Yuji’s gaze flickers between you and his older brother towering over both of you as he thinks about it. You give him all the time he needs, even as Sukuna’s foot begins tapping impatiently. He’s an adult, he can wait. “I guess,” Yuji finally agrees, averting his gaze.

“Do you think you can be brave for me and get a needle, then?” You ask, your gentle smile remaining in place the whole time.

It takes a moment, but Yuji nods.

“Can I have that paper, Yu?”

He gingerly reaches behind him and passes you the crumpled paper. Tilting your head up to Sukuna, you pass it up to him. He walks over to the table, signs it, and returns it to Yuji.

“You better give this to your teacher,” he growls as he hands it back to Yuji. The little boy frowns, staring down at the ground in shame as he sniffles. Tears threaten his eyes again and you sigh.

���Sukuna, please,” your tone is soft with him as well, pleading for understanding between the two.

A muscle in his jaw tightens as his frustrated gaze zeros in on you, but he second-guesses whatever snappy words are about to spill from his lips, choosing instead to keep his mouth shut. His lips press into a thin line, furiously glaring at you and Yuji.

“Can you promise your brother, sweetheart?”

He’s still quietly sniffling as he nods, unable to look either of you in the eye. You let out a soft sigh, rubbing at the crease between your brows. At least they’d come to some kind of peace, even if Sukuna is audibly huffing behind you while Yuji sniffles.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you offer a hand to Yuji, who takes it and lets you drag (yes, drag) him back up to his feet, quietly fiddling with the hem of his Sonic the Hedgehog shirt.

With a glance at Sukuna, clad in a plain white V-neck and sweatpants, you catch a glimpse of his tattoos and an idea pops into your mind. “You know, Yuji, your brother is super brave.”

The little boy’s head tilts in a silent question, just as Sukuna is looking at you with arms crossed over his chest. You take a step towards the older of the two brothers, avoiding his gaze to conceal your racing heart. Gingerly, you reach for his wrist and tug lightly on it. His lip twitches in a frown as he stays soundly in place, relenting finally when you tilt your head.

Fuck, it’s cute when you do that.

He lets you pull his wrist down towards Yuji, his expression unchanging as you point out his tattoos. “Your brother got thousands of needles for his tattoos, did you know that?” Your thumb rubs circles into Sukuna’s skin and he wonders if you know you’re doing it at all, his full attention trained on the action. Whether consciously or not, you seem to be trying to soothe him, and the fact that it’s working only further complicates the feelings bubbling in Sukuna’s chest.

Yuji peers up nervously with reddened eyes and puffy cheeks at his older brother. “Really?” He rasps quietly, his voice strained from crying.

“That’s right,” you grin. “Can you be brave like your brother?”

Yuji reaches out and presses a finger to Sukuna’s wrist, as if feeling for raised skin, only to find it’s smooth. “Like Kuna,” he nods in agreement, showing you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen through his tear-stained face.

“Like Kuna,” you agree, rustling the little boy’s salmon hair. He smiles more happily now, running off with his permission slip to slide it into his backpack.

Sukuna lets out a long breath as you drop his wrist. “Fuck,” he mutters.

“Need to cry it out in my arms, too?” You tease with a grin.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Even as he rolls his eyes at you, you catch the short exhale of breath from his nose reminiscent of a laugh.

“The offer stands,” you shrug cheekily, heading over to the table to set your bag down. You pull your history textbook out, alongside your notebook and some cue cards you prepared after submitting your paper last night. You skimmed through your textbook to put together cue cards with names, dates, and locations and their relations to historic events after Sukuna had pointed out that you seem to have the rest of the subject down.

Setting everything across the table, you peer over your shoulder at Sukuna’s distant gaze. You’ve seen this expression on him before, a forlorn glaze over his eyes as though he’s not present, completely lost in thought.

“Are you okay?”

Sukuna blinks twice, coming back to the present. A knot forms between his brows, as though he’s offended you might suggest he isn’t. “‘M fine.”

He’s lying, but you have no right to the truth, so you accept it with a nod.

No longer distracted, he runs a hand through his spiked hair, pushing a few loose strands back off of his forehead. His attention returns fully to you, though with a glance down at your white blouse, he wrinkles his nose.

“What?” You ask, looking down only to find yourself mirroring his expression. “Oh.”

Your blouse is a downright mess of snot and tears and while the tears will dry… well the same can’t be said for the snot. You frown, heading to the sink to wet a washcloth.

“Don’t bother,” Sukuna grumbles, striding into a room down the hall that you assume is his. He re-emerges a moment later with the first shirt he could find that doesn’t have the sleeves cut off. You reach out for the material as he tosses it to you.

“Thanks,” you smile, a faint heat rising to your cheeks at the prospect of wearing his shirt. Ducking away quickly to the washroom, you pull your blouse over your head and replace it with the black T-shirt, looking down at the material flowing over your body and thighs. You can’t help but giggle at the sight while Sukuna’s scent invades your senses, a comforting smokey and woodsy smell that makes you dizzy.

Straightening the shirt over your body, you nod to yourself in the mirror before re-emerging into the main living space. You can make out Sukuna’s form leaning over the balcony railing with no jacket on, even in the freezing weather. He catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, taking a long final drag from his cigarette before he stubs it out in an ashtray and steps back inside.

“I think it’s a little big on me,” you giggle in reference to the shirt, cheeks remaining warm as you gingerly link your hands behind your back, rocking forward and back on your heel.

The tattooed man’s eyes trail the length of your body, the red of his irises disappearing as he does so. You cross your arms over yourself, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his sharp gaze.

He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, well. I’m six foot eleven, and you’re fuckin’ short.” He averts his gaze, willing his dick not to react right now. He’s already well aware of his attraction to you, and he’s sure that if he just found the time to get laid he could bury that feeling. What’s more important is that he considers you to be someone genuinely important in his life, regardless of the fact that he can’t give you a label. He’s not about to jeopardize whatever he has with you because of how hot you are and how much his dick is well aware of it.

He’s seen the looks you give him, too. Every hitch of your breath, every nervous glance away from him. He knows there’s a mutual attraction between you, but it’s one that no matter how much his sex drive seems to disagree, he knows he can’t pursue. There’s more to your connection than sex, and one night isn’t worth the effort he’s put into fixing things with you.

He can’t put a name to that connection, but he values it regardless.

“Type… O Negative?” You interrupt Sukuna’s thoughts, reading the bold green logo on the shirt as your eyes trace the heart monitor logo in matching green beneath the text. Most of the band shirts he wears have logos with the most bizarre font they’re nearly unreadable, so you can’t help but wonder if this is even a band at all. Meeting his gaze again, you tilt your head.

Sukuna’s cock twitches in his sweats. Shit, he should have worn jeans. He coughs into his elbow, leaning back against the table in an effort to hide his growing need. “They’re a band.”

“Oh, cool!” You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

Getting up suddenly, Sukuna mutters something about needing to get ready for work and saunters off, leaving you standing by the table alone. You shrug it off, attempting to roll up the sleeves of the shirt and tuck it into the waistband of your leggings as best as you can in the hopes of making yourself look less like you’re in pajamas. Once you’re satisfied with the best look you think you can pull off, you take a seat at the table and begin putting together your cue cards.

Throwing yourself into your studies, you begin going through your cue cards in silence until Sukuna returns a short while later. The locks over his forehead are damp and he’s in a clean set of navy coveralls when he sits at the table beside you.

“What leaders made an effort to end the Cold War?” He quizzes, leaning over the table without so much as a glance at your cue cards.

“Reagan!”

“And?”

“Um- Gorbachev…?”

“Atta girl,” Sukuna smirks, giving your shoulder a light shove as your eyes light up, cheeks noticeably warm.

“Thank god I’m getting somewhere with all this studying,” you chuckle to yourself, straightening your cue cards. “I’m so burnt out on schoolwork,” you sigh, dropping the cards to the table.

“Why not take a break then?” Sukuna asks through a yawn.

“I can’t,” you frown, offering no further explanation. His brow arches questioningly. “I still need your help.”

His eyes flicker between yours, before dropping to your cue cards. “No ya don’t. You know the material and you’ve got cue cards for the shit you don’t remember. You’re set.”

You follow his gaze to the colorful cards with your handwriting scrawled over them in black ink. “You think so?”

“‘Course. You’re smarter than I am.”

The burly man leans forward over the table on his palm, yawning as silence sets in while you glance over your study materials. It doesn’t take long before you realize he’s in a trance, staring blankly straight ahead with a familiar distant expression.

Frowning, you have to resist the urge to reach out and pull him towards you. Maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with his brothers, but something about the idea of pulling him into a comforting hug feels right.

As though your body is actively working against you, your hand instinctively reaches for him. Sukuna’s gaze reflexively locks onto your hand that rests on his bicep, rubbing his tensed arm. A muscle works in his jaw as his irises flit up to you, something unreadable gleaming in his intense stare.

At the realization that you did reach out after all, you hesitantly pull back, somewhat surprised he didn’t smack your hand away in irritation. “Sorry, I…” But you have no excuse, so you trail off, awaiting his reaction.

Sukuna makes a show out of rolling his eyes, using his free hand to pull your hand back down to his bicep before leaning forward over the table and resting his chin over his elbow. He yawns again, his muscles slowly relaxing beneath your hand. You smile softly as Sukuna accepts your comfort, accepts you, and simply enjoy the comfortable silence while you use your spare hand to go through your cue cards.

His eyes are heavy as he stares blankly out the window opposite the table, the lull of sleep threatening to pull him under. As much as Sukuna hates to admit it, there’s little more tempting as of late than simply sleeping through his problems, and his mind goes blank as he eventually gives in to the temptation.

Sukuna’s breathing steadies beneath your hand, and you count your blessings that you’ve watched the kids during this shift before and you know that he has twenty minutes before he needs to leave. It might be the first time you’ve seen Sukuna completely relaxed, his jaw slack and shoulders loose. Pink strands of hair fall over his forehead, his lips only slightly parted as he breathes softly.

You gently rub circles into his arm, smiling softly at just how comfortable he’s grown with you. It touches you to see him able to simply be around you in such a way. Although you’d be lying to say you don’t want more than what you have with him, you’re grateful you have anything at all given his icy disposition. You’ve come a long way from the one-word answers and constant frustration.

Even if it’s always under the guise of an equivalent exchange, you’re glad he allows you to help him. Ever since you’ve been watching his little brothers more, he doesn’t seem as tired all the time (not that this particular moment proves that point), and you’re seeing more and more glimpses of the side of him most don’t get to see.

Your heart does a flip as his muscles twitch in his sleep beneath your fingers. He’s always trusted you on a relatively surface-level given that he lets you watch his brothers, but falling asleep under your touch is a surprising level of intimacy and reliance.

It’s a shame that twenty minutes passes so fast as you squeeze his arm in an effort to wake him.

“Stop,” he grumbles, swatting your hand away. Well, the peace can’t last forever you suppose. You give him another shake, which he certainly doesn’t appreciate. “What’d I just fuckin’ say?”

“You have work soon, Sukuna,” you giggle, giving him another shove. He cracks an eye open, his brow pulled down in a grumpy frown. He lifts his head slowly, squinting groggily at you with the imprint of the fabric of his coveralls on his cheek. You have to suppress another giggle at the disheveled glower being thrown at you.

“Fuck me,” he grumbles, rolling his shoulders before he pushes himself up from the table. He pushes his hair from his forehead and saunters around the apartment as he gathers what he needs before throwing on his coat.

“Oh, hey, where’s Choso?” You query as Sukuna fiddles with his keys.

He shrugs. “In his room, probably. He doesn’t like when Yuji cries.”

That makes sense from what you know of the middle sibling.

“Oh. He has homework due, can you make sure he does it?” Sukuna asks as he opens the front door. You nod. “I owe you one.”

Never a thank you with Sukuna, always him owing you.

“See you later, Kuna!”

The door shuts behind him and you let out a sigh, going to check on the two young boys. You knock on the door that’s slightly ajar, poking your head into their room when Yuji tells you to come in. There’s a mess of colored threads, strings, and beads strewn over a desk that they’re both crowded around, while Choso’s homework is buried beneath the mess of craft supplies.

Yuji hops off the chair and opens the door wider for you. Grinning, you let him tug you over to their table. Standing behind them both, you peer at what looks like a pile of (attempted) bead lizards with feet that don’t quite make sense.

“How are you both doing?” You figure after the tension when you walked into the apartment, they could probably use the opportunity to do a mental check-in with you. It’s not like Sukuna would be up for it, so you may as well try with his brothers.

“I’m sorry,” Yuji says as he fiddles with thread, not looking up from the very important lopsided lizard in his tiny hands. His tongue pokes out from the side of his mouth as he focuses on his craft.

“I know Yu, Kuna just has a lot going on right now. It’s okay,” you rub his back gently before turning your attention to his brother, “Choso?”

The dark-haired brother chews on his lip as he slides beads onto a thread. “I’m okay. I don’t like when they fight.” Deep in thought, his movements pause before he pulls two threads tight to keep the beads from falling off and sets a purple lizard head on the desk. “Um- I found this.”

He shoves some stray threads aside and hands you a familiar corner of paper addressed to his older brother adorned with a law firm logo. “I saw this,” you tell Choso, rounding the table to his side in an attempt to keep his brother from being involved. It’s not like he’s old enough to understand either way. “Do you know anything about it?”

He shakes his head.

“Me either,” you tell him. “If your brother wants to tell me, then he will. I’m sure everything’s okay,” you reassure despite not being so sure yourself. Sukuna is strong-willed, smart, and beyond capable. Most could never manage what he’s pulling off, but a lawsuit is another issue entirely. Sukuna’s got a mouth on him and a penchant for fighting if the rumors are true, so you can only imagine what trouble he’s gotten himself into.

Choso picks his lizard back up, sliding three purple beads onto one side of the string. “Okay.” He threads the other side back through the beads and pulls the string tight to keep them in place. “I trust you.”

You smile, ruffling his hair. “Do you need help with the feet?” You ask with a glance at the lizards with lopsided and mismatched feet.

“Please!”

“Yes!”

You can worry about Choso’s homework in a bit. For now, you think both kids could use some time relaxing and doing some crafts as you pull up a chair.

–

Sukuna drags a hand down his face as he enters his apartment to the sound of two kids who are still very awake. Excited screams fill the apartment, alongside your saccharine voice that he can only assume is attempting to corral the kids based on your stern tone.

Dropping his keys on the table at the door, he kicks his boots to the side and shrugs his coat off, ready for a shower and dead silence alone in his room more than anything. He trudges tiredly towards the washroom, his lips twitching into a frown as Yuji goes bolting past him, followed closely by Choso.

“Go to bed, brats!” He hisses, his voice gruff with irritation as he makes his way to the washroom.

You barely manage to see the door closing behind your friend as you trail after the two boys, who’ve been balls of energy all night since Choso finished his homework. It’s sweet, of course, but your burnt out mind wasn’t prepared for them to have this much energy when you agreed to watch them.

As both boys turn and come barreling past you, you barely manage to catch Yuji and hoist him up into your arms, effectively stopping their game of tag.

“Nooooooooo!!” Yuji cries out between excited giggles. Choso skids to a halt in front of you with a disappointed frown.

“Come on, kiddos. You have school tomorrow, it’s bedtime.”

You’re met with a chorus of whines and sighs as you carry Yuji to their room. Choso trails close behind, pouting as you instruct them to get ready for bed. You help Yuji with pulling his hoodie over his head and choosing a pair of pajamas before giving them time to finish getting ready.

Yuji bursts from the door in a fit of giggles, running towards the cracked door of Sukuna’s room. “Yuji, come on it’s bedti-” you call after him as you follow him through the cracked door, eyes widening at the sight of Sukuna shirtless, his hair damp and hanging over his forehead. He must have finished his shower while you were trying to get his brothers to calm down. He shoots both of you an irritated snarl, his lip curled in frustration. “Sorry!” You squeak out, corralling Yuji out the door before Sukuna can bark out an order to get out of his room.

Your heart pounds, mind distant as you manage to get both kids into bed and read them Green Eggs and Ham. Once they’ve settled and you’re certain they’ll get some rest, you’re able to leave their room with a sigh, heading back to the main living space of the apartment, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to have made his way out of his room yet.

He doesn’t seem to be in the greatest mood and you consider taking your leave without a word, but figure that’s probably more rude than simply knocking on his door. Deciding to do exactly that, you make your way over to his bedroom and lightly tap his door with your knuckles.

“Come in.”

You push the door open, standing stiffly just within the frame. His room is decorated fairly dark with blacks, grays, and reds, only the dim light of a single lamp illuminating the room enough to be seen. There’s a desk pushed to one end of the room covered in workout gear, books, and various art supplies and a pile of clothes tossed over the desk chair, while his wardrobe off to the right is covered in hygiene supplies with only a single photo that you can’t make out in the relative dark. The light from his bedside lamp hardly illuminates the posters and art on his walls, which seem to be a variety of band posters, horror film posters, and his own art. There’s a drafting table opposite his wardrobe absolutely plastered in art supplies as well, with charcoal smeared over the wood.

“You just gonna stand there lookin’ like a fish outta water?” Sukuna asks from where he’s leaning against the headboard of his bed in the center of the room. His nose is buried in his laptop, the dull glow lighting up his features. Crimson irises gleam like deep drops of blood as you round the room, taking a look around as you realize he is genuinely inviting you in. As you step towards his wardrobe, your eyes train on the photo that you can now make out in the dim light.

There’s an older man with hair that matches Yuji and Sukuna’s standing to one side of the photo. Toddler Yuji is sound asleep with his head on the man’s shoulder, with Choso in the center in a graduation cap. You assume it must be an elementary school graduation or something of the sort. Sukuna stands much taller than everyone else in the photo at the back with a mild expression. He’s noticeably taller, with no facial tattoos although you can faintly make out his neck tattoos.

In the corner of the image, there’s a piece missing, and you can see that at one point there was a woman in the side of the photo, her dress visible behind Choso. Her face has been cut out of the photo and you can’t make out a single feature aside from the end of her hair. It looks fairly similar to Choso’s, long and dark. You figure this must be their parents, and Sukuna isn’t fond of his mother.

“He was a lot better with them.” You glance back at Sukuna as he shuts his laptop, setting it on his bedside table. It’s then that you realize he’s still shirtless, your gaze falling way too obviously down to his sculpted abdomen. He looks like a goddamn sculpture by Michaelangelo himself, made by a god in his craft. The peaks and valleys of his abs could make even the strongest person’s mouth water and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t a great effort to tear your gaze from his abs. Now’s not the time. Swallowing hard, you find his eyes.

Sukuna would usually smirk, finding amusement in your inability to keep your eyes on his face, but the can of worms he’s just opened isn’t one he approaches lightly. He’s willingly offering up a piece of his vulnerability to you, leaving the ball in your court.

“That’s your dad?” You ask, turning to look at the photo again.

“Mhm. He put in a lotta when their mom left to work in another country.”

“Their mom? You’re half-brothers, then?” You carefully approach the bed, taking a seat gingerly at the side.

“Yeah. Our dad sure knew how to pick ‘em.” There’s a story there for sure, but he’s already moving on before you can pry. “He knew how to handle the brats. They were happy.”

You slide further onto the bed, leaning against the headboard beside him. “They’re happy with you too, Sukuna.”

His eyes slowly slide down from the ceiling to meet your gaze. He contemplates your words for a moment, a forlorn sigh parting his lips. “It ain’t the same.”

You shuffle to face him, sitting cross-legged as you will your eyes to stay on his face. “Sukuna, you’re good with them. You care and you’re trying, that’s what matters.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Good with them, my ass.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You saw what happened earlier. Choso was afraid of me n’ Yuji was cryin’.” He drags his hand down his face. “Shit’s a disaster here. I’m never even home to look after ‘em.”

You blink as he airs his grievances with the world, with himself. “You’re joking, right?”

Sukuna’s head lolls dramatically towards you, face tense with frustration. “Do I look like I am, princess?”

A shiver runs up your spine but you keep your eyes (and mind) straight on his face. “Seriously, you are good with them. You’re allowed to be frustrated, just like Yuji’s allowed to be afraid. He’s a kid, he’s gonna make a big deal out of little things.” You offer a sympathetic smile. “And Choso’s not afraid of you. He’s worried about you.”

“Worried about what?” Sukuna’s face scrunches in confusion. “The fuck is a twelve-year-old doin’ worrying about me?”

You giggle at his brutish expression, diffusing his frustration. He blows a breath out through his lips, running a hand through his hair that’s gradually drying as you speak. The silence that envelops the both of you is calm, the lamp providing an air of warmth as you work through Sukuna’s worries. The soft orange glow of the bulb illuminates his features in such a handsome manner that it’s hard to sit next to him without stray thoughts.

“Choso may only be twelve, but he’s smart. He knows something’s off. We both do.”

His eyes shoot up, his stare intensifying. “Nothing’s off,” he growls sternly, as if trying to convince himself.

“So Yuji gets his lying habits from you, huh?” You tease, keeping your voice soft as you prod at his thigh.

“I’m not lying, fuck off with that,” he grouses, swatting your hand away. You quietly giggle to yourself again, paying no mind to his pointed stare.

“Was your dad this stubborn too?”

You’re not shocked that Sukuna’s response to your teasing is to roll his eyes, but he still entertains a response. “No. He was a teacher, he had the patience of a god.”

“That’s right, he was a history teacher, wasn’t he?”

“Mm.”

“Was he an artist too?”

“No. That’s all me.”

You slide up the bed, inching somewhat closer to him again as you lean back against the headrest, looking around the room at the art above his drafting table. “You’re a great artist, Kuna.”

He hums, following your gaze to the wall where he’s plastered anatomy practice and art of faceless figures. He doesn’t get much time to work on any art these days, but given the opportunity, he would certainly do it more.

His gaze drifts to your face, so calm and inquisitive in spite of his frosty and rough edges. You hardly seem bothered by anything he throws your way, accepting his relative rudeness in stride and he’s not sure he deserves that kindness. No, he knows he doesn’t. Still, sitting here with you, bathed in the soft light of his lamp, he finds himself seeking the comfort of your voice, so soft and understanding as you offer him genuine advice and listen to his gripes without belittling him.

You come from a world so obviously different from his, yet you never seem to see him as anything less than what he is. Hell, you see him as something more than he sees in himself, as much as he hates to admit it. Maybe that’s why he finds himself drawn to you. Maybe that’s why your absence caused him so much trouble.

In truth, he’s not so sure anymore.

There’s a lot he’s not so sure about anymore.

He basks in the silence, sighing deeply as he slumps further back against the headboard. “I think they might be better off in the hands of someone else.”

Your eyes widen, your head whipping over to stare at him. “What? You don’t seriously think that.”

“Do I sound like I’m making a fuckin’ joke?” He huffs, his jaw tense.

“Sukuna, you’re literally their hero. They look up to you more than you could ever imagine.”

He blanches, all signs of irritation dropped as his brow twitches and lips part. The expression on his face is unreadable, a mix of emotions that aren’t familiar on his chiselled features. With a sharp intake of breath, he shuts his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Kuna?”

“Gimme a moment, fuck.” His voice is muffled through his hands, remaining frozen as he lets out a long sigh. When he drops his hands from his face, he stares down at his lap with that same distant and solemn expression from earlier. You let the silence be at his request, giving him a chance to work through his jumbled thoughts.

Breathing in through his nose, he lets out a breath through pursed lips, his hand reaching for your leg as he squeezes the plush of your thigh. His jaw clenches as he clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing able to ground him and keep him from the thoughts that have been causing him to go through three times his usual dose of nicotine.

And fuck, he cannot afford to keep going through cigarettes at that rate.

Your mind is doing circles at the feeling of his touch on your leg of all places, the heat of his skin warming your leggings.

Blinking, you tilt your head to get a better view of him. “Where’s this all coming from anyway? What happened to the cocky asshole I met a couple of months ago?”

That seems to bring him back as he scowls at you, deflecting your question. “Really runnin’ your mouth for someone whose dinner came from my fridge.”

“Hey! I consider that payment for watching your brothers. Besides, my cooking is great. You should be happy I made you leftovers,” you pout.

He smirks, playfully squeezing your thigh and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You swallow to keep yourself from having a noticeable reaction, keeping your attention on a non-descript area of the wall. “Who’s the cocky one now, princess?”

Even with his hand heavy on your thigh, his teasing is so normal that it almost makes you forget that the heat between your legs is begging for friction that you can’t chase because he would feel your thighs clench.

“What can I say? My cooking’s that good.”

“Your cooking ends up on my fucking floor most of the time.”

“The bread crumbs were one time, Sukuna,” you whine, playfully shaking your head.

“From you, maybe. Choso tried to copy your mac and cheese and even convinced my dumb ass he knew how to do it.” Sukuna scoffs, tilting his head towards you. The warmth of his breath fans your neck as he leans in. “D’you know what happened?” He asks, his voice lowered enough to make your heart flutter.

You wince. “Bread crumbs on the floor.”

“Bread crumbs on the fuckin’ floor.”

You bring a hand up to your face, giggling. To your surprise, Sukuna’s chest jolts in a single sputtered laugh, until he’s actually chuckling along with you. Not a smug laugh, not making fun of something, your laughter is contagious and his is genuine.

Comfortable silence finds you, simply enjoying one another’s company. The dull light in his lamp flickers, pulling both of your attention to the bulb on its last legs. Your eyes trail the length of his silhouette, admiring the way his tattoos frame his face. The dark contrast of the solid ink makes the crimson of his irises pop, giving his already sharp features a more deadly appearance.

Everything about him seems to signify a lethal edge; between the way he carries himself, shutting the world out and fending only for himself and his brothers, and his inclination towards frustration. Yet, every so often, you see another side to him, a side where the edges are softer and he seems more himself.

That’s not to say those rougher edges aren’t still there, but the calmer side of him rounds him out and makes his snark more endearing.

Sukuna’s the first to turn back from the lamp, gaze flickering between your eyes. His chest rises and falls, the quiet sounds of his breath punctuating the otherwise silent room.

Sukuna can hear your breath hitch when you realize he’s staring, using the opportunity to squeeze your thigh. It pulls a strangled gasp from deep in your chest and your eyes widen. He can’t help himself, the way your body reacts to him is like a narcotic, and he can’t help but want more.

There’s never been a moment since you met that Sukuna hasn’t known you find him attractive. It’s why he enjoys pushing your buttons so much, but when you slipped so easily alongside him in his personal life, you became something more than a quick fuck. Someone to keep around. Someone who betters him.

In the dim glow of his lamp, laid out on his bed with his palm splayed over your thigh like it belongs there, something deeper stirs within him. Lust, surely. Only lust. You’re in his goddamn shirt, and he’s hungry. He’s starved for the feeling of bare skin slapping against his own, and you’re so damn gorgeous, like a cloud to any amount of judgment he can manage.

And you’re no better. You’ve been biting your lip until it’s raw as you resist the urge to clench your thighs since he invited you in. Sukuna’s not a traditional man, in all of your daydreams and fantasies, you had never imagined him treating you to dinner and romantically confessing. You never had broad expectations for anything extravagant from him.

That’s not what you want from him. You just want him as he is. You want him to let you in, to let you help him find himself and find happiness.

The air around you is charged, crackling with anticipation as his barriers begin to degrade and you let out a shaky breath. The world seems to hold its breath around you, the bustling city so quiet you could hear a pin drop as its noise fades into the background.

Sukuna’s tongue swipes over his lower lip, all reason thrown to the wolves as he leans over you and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are commanding, guiding you towards one thing and one thing only: pleasure. He moves his body over top of yours, caging you beneath his muscular build. You’re so small under him and the control he exerts over you is exhilarating.

The kiss is sloppy, filled with desperation as he settles himself over you, letting his hands roam your body. You’re pliant beneath him, thrilling in the way his hands slide down your waist to your hips. His grip tightens, fingers holding you in-place almost bruisingly. Your pussy throbs, clenching around nothing as slick pools between your thighs.

Consequences be damned, you’re both addicted to the taste and feel of one another.

Sukuna softly bites your lower lip, pulling a whimper from deep in your throat. He smirks against your lips, pressing his hardened bulge against your core. He swallows your gasp, running his tongue along your lower lip as he seeks entrance. You grant him what he’s looking for, drunk on his taste, minty with a hint of smoke.

Sliding your hands up his tense arms, you find purchase in gripping his shoulders as your head spins. He rolls his hips again, revelling in the feel of your nails digging into his bare skin. Getting your bearings, you allow your hands to explore the expanse of his chest, roaming down the high peaks and deep valleys of his extremely pronounced abs. You pause at his waistband, unable to help your smirk as he groans, his abdomen tensing under your touch.

He’s desperate for more, pressing you further into the bed as his lips explore your jaw, dipping his head into your neck to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to grant him easier access, jaw slack and eyes glazed. His breath noticeably quickens when your fingers dip beneath his waistband, but you pause there.

You pull back suddenly, pushing hard against his chest as you practically have to peel him off of you.

“What’re-”

You slap a palm over his mouth, muffling the rest of his question until he can hear why you’ve paused. The sound of sock-clad footsteps on hardwood catches his attention and he quickly pulls away, putting enough distance between you to imply innocence. Sukuna pulls a pillow out from behind him, grunting as he sets it on his lap and leans his head back against the headboard. 

Shortly after, the doorknob clicks and cracks open, a pair of golden-brown eyes peering into the room. Reddened and filled with tears, your mind sobers quickly as you hop off the bed and jog over to Choso to kneel before him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask, taking in a breath to keep from panting.

“I had a nightmare.”

Ah. Sukuna had mentioned Choso had been having a lot of nightmares lately and it seemed to be keeping him up. You wonder if it’s related to his concerns regarding his older brother and the lawsuit. He may be young, but he seems to have a general understanding of the gravity of getting lawyers involved in situations.

Knowing what you know now about Sukuna’s family, you wonder if he’s been around lawyers before, given their father’s passing. Then there’s the question of Choso and Yuji’s mother, who’s clearly not in the picture anymore.

Quite literally.

You cast another glance back at Sukuna, whose chest is rising and falling heavily as he stares at the ceiling.

“That’s okay sweetheart, do you want me to come talk to you for a bit?”

Choso glances briefly at his brother before nodding. Smiling softly at him, you usher him out of the room and shut the door behind you, trailing after Sukuna’s little brother. He leads the way to his room, sitting on his bed.

Kneeling at the side of his bed, you keep your voice to a whisper to avoid waking his brother. “Did you want to talk about it, Cho?”

He considers this option for a moment, staring at his hands in his lap before shaking his head.

“That’s alright.” You smile reassuringly. “Your brother mentioned this has been happening a lot lately. I just want you to know you can talk to me if you need.”

Choso hesitates, staring down at his hands in his lap again, before shaking his head.

“That’s fine too. Do you want me to-”

“Chocho?” Yuji’s groggy voice sounds as he flips in his bed against the opposite wall, calling out your name as well.

“Go back to sleep, Yu. Your brother just had a nightmare,” you smile softly in the darkness of the room, your face illuminated only by a nightlight on the wall. You turn back to Choso. “Do you want me to read something until you fall back to sleep? I won’t let any monsters get you,” you reassure him with a grin.

Choso nods slowly.

“Great, what book?”

Choso peers over at the bookshelf, kicking his feet as he skims the titles on each spine. “I’ve already read all of these.”

Frowning, you tap your fingers on your thigh in thought. That had never stopped him from requesting Bridge to Terabithia before, but you suppose that’s neither here nor there at the moment.

What is with his taste in movies and books, why does he like the most heart wrenching titles?

“I could tell you a story,” you decide. Choso’s demeanor picks up as he nods eagerly, getting back in bed. You glance back at Yuji, who’s still quietly watching you. You suppose telling them a story won’t hurt. Pulling up a chair, you take a seat between the beds. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort. Which would only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible fire breathing dragon.”

You do your best to focus on your story-telling, although sitting in the dark waiting for the kids to fall asleep as you try to recall the story, something stirs in the back of your mind.

Something dread-inducing and sobering.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined your first kiss with Sukuna, dreamt of it in the back of your mind and forcibly pushed it down. It only made sense that Sukuna’s flirting was mainly out of jest and teasing, so you had swallowed your feelings and been what Sukuna needed the most. A friend.

Now with the time to think clearly, it occurs to you that there was no spark, no fireworks, and no romance behind the way you kissed. Neither of you had been chasing anything beyond surface-level lust, and you’re just as guilty as he is.

It’s painful to think that the image you’d had in the back of your mind for so long isn’t the reality, but that’s life, isn’t it? You may get another side of Sukuna that most don’t, but at the end of the day, you suppose that doesn’t mean he shares the feelings you caught for him. You had every opportunity to clarify what you wanted from him, but instead you slipped your fingers under his waistband. 

Fuck.

Fuck.

Your heart clenches, your chest tightening at the realization that your friendship with Sukuna could very easily hang by a thread because you both got caught up in one another.

“The ogre and the donkey travel to…” you trail off at the realization that both kids are sound asleep, slipping out of the room with a pit of dread in your stomach.

With a sharp intake of air, you let out a breath and quietly open Sukuna’s room door.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” Sukuna hasn’t moved since you left the room.

Silence punctuates the air, the tension palpable and just as uncomfortable as you could have predicted. The friendship with Sukuna that you had worked so hard to nurture seems to hang precariously in the balance of discomfort and regret.

“Was that story fuckin’ Shrek?” Sukuna asks with narrowed eyes. It does little to quell the unease hanging low over your heads.

You laugh nervously. “Yeah. I didn’t know what story to tell.”

“Do you have the fuckin’ opening memorized?”

“I guess so,” you chuckle again, unable to meet his gaze. The silence spreads once again. “Um- I should go.”

Sukuna doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have kissed you. He shouldn’t have grinded on you.

He doesn’t want to complicate something he doesn’t quite understand himself.

So why the hell does his stomach drop when those words leave your lips? Lips that were on his barely a half hour ago.

The uncertainty of where you sit with one another lies in the distance between you both. It settles like dust over a table left untouched for many years, yet it accumulated in only a few minutes. You want to reach out and find the answers you’re looking for, but you don’t have words.

What the hell are you supposed to say? You’ve hopelessly fallen for him and you don’t want whatever it is you have to end, even at the cost of unrequited feelings? No, Sukuna would push you away.

Sukuna doesn’t even attempt to clear the dust, he can only stare, wondering what’s going through your mind, because what’s going through his makes no sense to him.

Whatever it is that he’s feeling now, it’s a jumbled mess. It’s not the same distress he felt at the thought of you presenting alone and it’s not the lust he’d chased that left him with a painful erection.

Whatever he feels, it’s some sort of warning. Like an omen that he’s somehow fucked things up again with you, tearing a rift through the friendship that even he has worked hard to mend. He wonders if one heated kiss is enough to dissolve the effort he’d put into everything, if this changes what you had for good.

So why the hell are the next words to part his lips “yeah. See ya.”?

Watching you slip away, listening to you pack your belongings in a hurry and slip out the door without even a goodbye, Sukuna grits his teeth and slams his head back against the headboard. If the ground split open and swallowed him whole right now, he thinks he would prefer that to the sound of the front door shutting.

Fuck. Fuck, he did it again.

How many times would you let him fuck up your friendship before you deemed him not worth the time of day?

Shit, he hopes you’ll let him make it up to you once more, even if he’s not sure he deserves it.

What the hell was he thinking, anyway? Or, more likely, not thinking? Was he so driven by a need to wet his dick that he seeked out the one person he couldn’t bear to watch walk away from him?

Why is it that he can’t keep his mind clear when it comes to you?

Sukuna rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.” Should he chase after you? No, no. He can’t have you thinking there’s any meaning behind his actions beyond whatever it was you already had.

And even he knows how fucked up of a thought that is, one that sits in the pit of his stomach like sour bile. He grimaces, blinking at the foreign feeling of guilt wrapping its ugly fingers tightly around him.

He pulls out his laptop, opening the email chain you’ve been using since the two of you met, but his fingers pause over the keyboard. What the hell is he supposed to say? ‘Sorry for kissing you’? ‘Sorry for thinking with my dick instead of my head’?

“Fuck,” he hisses, louder this time. Tossing his laptop on his bed, he trudges out into the living room, grabbing the broken cap of his lighter and its base from his coat pocket, and what’s left of his pack of cigarettes before standing out in the cold night air in only his sweatpants.

The nicotine hardly seems to make a dent in the toiling emotions tightening his chest and hollowing his stomach. He’s smoked his way through so many packs lately that the dent on his wallet and his reliance on the drug only seems to be growing, yet another pile of problems to add onto his list.

You’re the only thing that seems to quell his narcotic addiction, but you’ve got to be some sort of drug yourself with the way Sukuna behaves like a braindead dumbass around you.

Staring at the ember at the end of the cigarette in his hand, he sighs, leaning forward on the railing of the balcony. The cold doesn’t seem to touch him, like he’s numb to the world beyond his own issues.

Sukuna is a truly fucked man.

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❦ a/n ; poor sukuna and reader do nawwwt know how to make things easy on themselves 🙂‍↔️ thank you all so much for reading and for all the love and kind comments and asks, they seriously make my day and i'm so happy to chat with yall and hear your thoughts. shoutout as well to my reader who suggested a type o negative shirt cameo, this one's for you <33 reader is stronger than i am for not leaping on sukuna when he invited her into his room shirtless tbh. i am weak for him ANYWHO thaaank you as always and i hope you're all doing well <33

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[unriding]

PROTECTING YOU FROM A CREEP. ft. endo & togame (separate)

in which a persistent pursuer doesn’t quite get the hint … that is, until they come face to face with your boyfriend. potential warning for implied stalking ( not by the characters ). f!reader.

sfw. similar to headcanons from my previous blog, but is not a repost!

As if any unwarranted looks your direction could ever go unnoticed by Endo.

He’s pegged you as the type of person to be much too trusting of everyone you come across since day one, now even more so from the way you didn’t even bother to question the reason behind why Endo would suddenly want to pick you up from work (though.. had he known that your shifts were adjusted to wrap up at 11 PM, he certainly would have started doing so much, much earlier).

He decides to wait just outside the back entrance of your building, clock on his phone reading 10:58 PM. It doesn’t take him long to note that the street lights in this specific lot are dim, and the area itself is practically empty. Nothing out of the ordinary considering the time, but it’s definitely not the ideal place he would like for you to be walking alone in the middle of the night.

It’s not like Endo himself is immune to your cute face or your endearing personality either, but — everything about this just rubs him the wrong way.

That stranger that only visits your work when he knows you’re working. According to your coworkers, he’s got his hands on your full schedule for the month. How that would even be possible is beyond him, your coworkers, and your own comprehension. Apparently nobody had told him your hours, but in the end, he got the information from somewhere.

He thinks this has been going on for much longer than you’ve let on.

A sudden set of footsteps catches his attention, though they’re not as heavy as he imagined they would be. The new moon tonight makes it difficult for Endo to see clearly, but from what he’s able to make out — he’s smaller than him, at least.

Not that he would have a hard time with someone who happened to outsize him.

He almost says something. He certainly would have, without a doubt, but you’ve always had a thing or two to say about him ‘starting unnecessary fights.’

So he waits. He waits and watches as the man in the hood looks as if he’s about to open his mouth to say something, but changes his mind upon noticing Endo beside the door.

Specifically, the infamous infinity on his neck. The tattoo that anyone in Makochi could recognize in a single glance — one that spells death for whoever is foolish enough to bother him, let alone his girl.

The man freezes in place. The new boyfriend you’ve been talking about was him?

Perhaps Endo’s reputation as one of the strongest still stands even years after high school has passed — especially now, with the way the stranger stares at him, completely dumbstruck.

Something bordering sadistic in Endo bubbles inside his chest. He can’t help it — not when he knows that had he not decided to come to pick you up, you would have been alone with him by now.

And now that he’s seen him up close, he doesn’t like him one bit.

“Ah, here to pick her up?” Endo cocks his head to the side. “That’d be my job, don’t you think?”

“W-Who?” He stammers, eyes narrowing into his best attempt at a glare despite the tremble of his lip. “I don’t know anyone here, man.”

He almost laughs. “Well, don’t leave so soon,” he makes his way towards him, circles him like a wolf stalks his next prey.

“What’re you doing lurking at her work place like this?” Endo stops when he’s just beside him, ‘Frank’ only a couple inches from him now, “ya little punk?”

“I’m here for the trash. I can come back tomorrow—”

“Really now..” Endo leans in, almost laughing when he retreats backwards. “Because I thought you looked awfully familiar. You’re not that guy who got a hold of my girl’s work schedule, did ya?”

His eyes go wide. “N..n—”

“Cuz a nice girl like that’s already got a boyfriend,” he checks his watch, bored. 11:01. You’d probably be double checking your things by now. “Ah.”

“Unless you’d like for her to see you passed out on the floor, of course. We could arrange that.”

“Wouldn’t you like that, you mutt?”

You really, really should have taken up Togame’s offer to pick you up.

He’s always laughed at your glare, much to your annoyance. Presses a fingertip to the skin between your brows with an amused grin, reminding that you that “such a harsh look only looks cute when it’s you, y’know.”

Only, he’s nowhere in sight and this time, you truly hope your glare doesn’t come across as cute. Your back roughly bumps into the wall with your last step away from your pursuer, hand flying up to flash your phone’s messages his way — “my favorite turtle” clear across the top of the screen.

“My boyfriend’s really big and scary, just so you know,” your voice falters, panic flashing across your eyes for a moment. “And he’s on his way. I told him all about you.”

He smiles, and a chill runs down your spine.

“Did you now? Well, he doesn’t know you like I do,” he sneers, slowly moving to close the distance between the two of you. “I could treat you better. You know I could. Just give me another chance, and I’ll prove it.”

You shake your head as hard as you can. “I said you aren’t my type,” your voice comes out quieter this time, hoping the volume masks at least some of the fear, “a lot of times. And I have a boyfriend.”

It doesn’t faze him. If anything, you think he looks amused by your efforts to turn him down.

“Did you think I didn’t know that, silly girl?” He’s closer now, enough to stretch his hand out and nearly reach you, “I really, really like girls like you. I don’t care… about your little boyfriend….”

Your eyes slam shut, back pressed against the wall and your hands hugging your purse to your chest — tightly, as if something so small could still potentially shield you from him. “Well he’s gonna b-be here, so—”

Togame. Where is Togame? Your heart pounds a thousand beats a second, eyes clenched shut harder than ever before, and you wait—

But his hand never reaches you.

There’s only a brief noise of surprise from your pursuer before it turns into something resembling pain, and your eyes flutter open.

“Jo..!”

You quickly note the faint trace of sweat along his temples, as if he had frantically searched every corner of the town before finding you. It doesn’t take you much longer to note the furrow of his brows next — the way he always does when he’s angry.

“Got yourself in a real interesting situation while I was on my way, did you now?” Togame’s grip tightens on his wrist, and he winces. His eyes flicker towards you, taking a second to make sure you’re not hurt.

He sighs in relief when you appear unharmed — aside from the slight tremble of your hands, of course, but no visible injuries. Lucky for him, he thinks, or he would have had to ask you to leave the scene.

Which leaves one thing.

“Hey… you,” the look in his eyes darkens, “what do you think you’re doing bothering her like that?”

“Cornering her against the wall …. and what was that? Tell me….” Togame lets go of his wrist, only to grab a fistful of his shirt. “Exactly what you were planning to do while I was away.”

[clambuoyance]

[Lovesquare Au]

Part 0 || Next >>

I watched the mlb movie and caught up w the show so I got au brainrot again 💀 My first post was more silly and had smaller snippets but somehow I got carried away and ended up drawing a lot more than the first time around. I’ll post it in parts tho so I don’t overload one post 🙏

In short, Tim -> likes Conner…but is fond of Superboy? Kon -> likes Robin, but has gotten to know Tim a lot better.

And the timeline/world for this au is a big mishmash of 90s comics/ROTS movie/TT03/2000s comics and headcanons, so in summary for backstory for this post especially:

Superboy - during Superman’s death, he was created at Cadmus (w funding from Lex) and told he was Superman’s clone, even if he is a lot younger and different. Like the comics/my headcanon, he is fascinated by the celebrity life and Lex who promised him he’d be as great as Superman, assigned him Rex Leech who would be his personal agent/pr manager/etc. Lex was kind of like…his funder and sponsor that promoted him as the guy that would give new hope in Supermans absence.

Flash forward to Superman’s return, he decides to go on a world tour/become disillusioned with celebrity life until Clark comes and takes him to the farm and suggests he lives as Conner Kent to get away from the likes of people like Lex and Rex lol. So he’s not connected to them by contract anymore but he will do things out of obligation (like being a bodyguard at a party)

In this au, Lex doesn’t know Conner is Superboy either, and he hasn’t told Kon to what extent he was involved in Kon’s creation (yet…) but he’s hinted at it before

Tim - in this au, he’s also been operating as Robin for a longer time but is recently dealing with also becoming Tim Drake-Wayne and preparing to become the possible successor to Bruce Wayne’s company so that’s why he’s at this fancy party 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ I haven’t quite decided how much of his backstory to adapt to this au specifically but he becomes Robin in a similar way as his debut with becoming Robin bc he sees that Batman is lost without one and Batman needs a Robin. By the time this au starts he’s gone to different schools and I guess is going to a new one where Conner is also attending? Also his parents are now dead in this 😔 and he’s very secretive compared to Superboy and is the one that attaches more weight to a secret identity

they somehow go to the same school idk don’t worry about it i throw logic out the window in this regard for my silly lovesquare shenanigans 🫡 the World building isn’t the main focus it’s just a backdrop to their dynamic anyways . Here. Take my cringe.

[luveline]

I need more Hotch x teacher PLEASE, I’ll take anything 😭🙏🏻

Mr. Hotchner —call me Aaron, he always says, because he’s a bully— walks across the school grounds with his son stuck to him. 

According to your colleagues, Jack used to be more outgoing. Not extroverted, but friendly, with many friends and lots to say. But after the passing of his mother a few years ago he’s become a quieter child. It’s not uncommon to see him glued to his father or his Aunt Jess before school. 

You tuck your hands in your cardigan against the early summer morning chill. “Hello,” you greet as the Hotchners approach. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” Aaron says. His smile is a rare and lucrative sight; whenever he smiles at you like this, as though you’re some wonder he’s happened upon accidentally, it betters your whole day. 

“Good morning, Jack,” you say, a gentle prompt to see what mood he’s in. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi, buddy. You got your reading diary filled out?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Me and dad read Marlo again, I hope that’s okay.” 

You bend just a bit to be smaller, “You can read anything you want to.” 

“Dad says so too.” 

You and Aaron share a look. “Dad’s always right, huh?”

Jack nods emphatically. Aaron edges a half step closer to you, looking as though his hand is itching where he’s tucked it in his coat pocket. There’s something in it, you realise. He pulls it out and offers it to you covertly. 

“You left this behind,” he says. 

It’s one of your bracelets. You open your palm and let him tip the bracelet into your hand, curling your fingers closed, but not before the brush of his thumb has made you miss it against your cheek. 

“Oh, wow, I assumed I lost it.”

“No… it must have fallen down between my bed and the nightstand.”

You glance around, not as covert as you wish you were. It’s not that you and Aaron can’t date, but you perhaps shouldn’t, and besides that things are so new between you that it isn’t anyone else’s business either way. Plus, you have Jack to think about. He doesn’t know you’re seeing his father yet. 

You smile gratefully and tuck the bracelet into your pocket. “Thank you.” 

“Jack!” a blonde little girl called Sadie races up to you all and smiles wide. “Do you want to come and play with me? I want to try cartwheels before we go in.” 

Jack looks up at Aaron, who nods and leans down. He kisses his unwrinkled forehead. “I should be going soon. Be good today, okay?” 

Jack says his love yous as he jogs away with Sadie, his lunchbox forgotten in Aaron’s hands. “Want me to take it?” you ask. 

“Oh, yes. Please, honey, if you don’t mind.” 

Again, his hand brushes yours as he hands it over, his skin a reminder that he’s touched you now, and kindly, gentle fingertips trailing down your back as you dozed with your face against his chest. He’s so… perfect, in a way, such a caring person, you’ve never felt like this about someone. His proximity makes you wish you could go home with him now or follow him to work. It’s an achy feeling without being sore. 

“I never mind.” You watch him carefully as you talk, “It’s nice to get to see you every morning.” 

“It would be even nicer if we could’ve had the whole morning together,” he says agreeably, fondly. “Did you check your calendar for me? How are things looking next weekend?” 

“Very open for nice men who bring me jewellery.” 

“Don’t start,” he says quietly, his hand twitching toward yours, “or I’ll blow our cover.” 

“I wish you could.” 

“Me too, honey. I’m going to talk with Jack about it again this weekend.” He beams. “I wonder if he’ll change his tune this time.” 

When Aaron brought up the idea of you and him together to Jack, it had been as a simple hypothetical: How would you feel if me and Miss L/N wanted to be friends, Jack? 

He was ecstatic. Then we can see her all the time! he’d said. Aaron’s next port of call is to introduce the g-word. 

You and Aaron meet eyes, looking at one another, his hand creeping closer and closer to your side. He takes the end of your cardigan into his hand and feels it between his fingers, the slight touch, slightest movement of the fabric against your shoulder sending a shudder down your arms and chest. 

“Can I see you tonight?” he asks. 

“You aren’t busy?” you ask, surprised.

“Of course I am, I always am. But I think I have to see you.” 

Oh, you have to, you could tease. But you really need to see him too. “Just text me when you want me and I’ll be there,” you say, looking away from him toward the children and their racing. 

You’re glad you aren’t looking at him when he next speaks. “I always want you, but I have to go. Have a good day, honey, alright?”  

Jack’s lunchbox creaks in your hand. A funny soft kiss would be nice here, his smile pressed to yours. Maybe one day you’ll get one out in the open. “Thank you. Have a good day, too, Aaron,” you say, only looking up at him when you’re sure he’s crossed the school grounds to the parking lot. 

He looks back over his shoulder to you twice. 

[brucewaynehater101]

I need you to stop me from making another Tim Drake centric fic

I got this random idea that won’t leave me alone

like what if the emotional scars and trauma people have show up physically too most commonly as little cracks on the skin and all of the bats have them

they hide them tho with make up and stuff so people don’t question it except Tim hides them from everyone maybe bc that’s what his parents taught him to do maybe bc he just doesn’t want to burden any of the bats

the bats think that Tim is fine so to them he’s invincible which leads them to treat him as such subconsciously or otherwise especially Bruce

it takes a lot for something to be bad enough that they physically manifest and Tim has A LOT bc everyone thinks he’s invincible

:) it won’t leave me alone help me I beg of you

Hmm.... Let's add on, shall we? This is a very rad idea. You should definitely write a fic about it, but no pressure.

Mind if I explore it? Also, feel free to disregard any part below you don't want/disagree with. This is just brainstorming ^^

Alright. Emotional scars are a physical mark on someone's skin.

Similar to regular scars, they can fade as a person heals.

Some may never disappear, and some only appear for a short time.

What would their color be?

Would they look like actual cracks in a person (so black-ish in color)? Would they be gold or multi-colored (different colors represent different kinds of emotional traumas)?

The level of hurt inflicted is directly proportional to the size (length and width) of the scar.

Perhaps more could be deduced from the general shape (is it jagged? A single line? Branching?)

Not all people have these marks

Most of the population manifests them. There's some prejudice against folk who don't [something something they are heartless, incapable of feelings, not able to be emotionally hurt, cold, detached, etc.], but hiding scars is also common. Therefore, it's harder to discern whether someone is hiding their marks or markless. It's a very fine line, so most people allow a smaller mark to show every once in a while. There's even a few trends to proudly display all marks.

Marks appear at the time of the emotional harm

It may not be apparent at the time due to the location, but the individual being hurt will manifest the mark at the very moment of emotional harm.

Anyways, that's the background stuff. Fun, but let's get into Tim specifically ^^

Tim's parents are part of the few who believe that showing off your scars to anyone, even your loved ones, is both a weakness and a way to guilt-trip people. Therefore, through their archeology studies, they managed to obtain magical objects to prevent the showing of emotional marks. It's similar to glamor.

Tim's object can change forms to suit his needs (so a ring at one moment and an earring the next). This ability prevents the Bats from discovering it.

Janet fakes a very small mark on her hand when she wants to discourage any rumors that's she's incapable of manifesting marks. For Tim, though, his parents wanted him to have rumors of being incapable of forming marks. It served their purpose better for him being the cunning Drake heir.

The deception started from birth, so no one but the Drakes know of Tim's ability to form marks [and the Drake parents never see the marks they leave behind on their child].

The Waynes, long before Tim entered their life, were aware of these rumors. Thus, when Tim demands to become Robin, he doesn't correct their assumptions.

Bruce is a callous fucker to Tim at the start. If Tim can't be hurt emotionally, then Bruce's ill-treatment of him is fine (which is flawed logic. The markless can be emotionally hurt, and they still deserve kindness, dignity, and respect even if they couldn't. Bruce was mentally fucked up, but it doesn't excuse his treatment).

Eventually, Bruce comes to the second realization that Tim should still be treated well even if it doesn't hurt him regardless. The man's behavior is better, but he still has the notion in mind that Tim can't be emotionally hurt. He uses this for missions and to downplay the way his other kids treat Tim (specifically Jason and Damian when they first meet Tim).

Tim gets used to a rotation of insult-names: Robot Robin, heartless, markless (said insultingly), cold-blooded, unfeeling bastard, etc.

He's also subject to a TON of misunderstandings. People are more reluctant to love him due to the belief that he can't love them back. He gets yelled at and told off for "masking/faking his emotions" when he's actually being genuine.

Which adds to his hurt :)

He also has to pretend not to grieve his parents when they die :(

Due to how rare markless are, the Bats don't meet "another" one until after the BruceQuest. When they chat with this person, they realize how many misconceptions they have about them (such as the markless being incapable of feelings. In fact, they accidentally offend that person when they tell the other they don't need to fake their emotions in front of the Bats. Safe to say, the markless individual becomes incensed when they realize how they've been treating their own markless family member).

This would be at least four (probably closer to five) years after Tim first became Robin. The entire family has a meltdown.

Tim, on the other hand, is used to the treatment the Bats have been giving him and becomes incredibly uncomfortable with them trying to care for his feelings and whatnot. It's rocky for a long while as everyone tries to seek forgiveness for something Tim bitterly doesn't hold against them (he is lying to them after all).

Tim rarely, if ever, views his own marks. The last time he checked was when he was having his identity crisis after Robin was taken from him. His entire body, from head to toe, had cracks in it. There was a giant, gaping crack on his back for the metaphorical stab in the back it was.

And we haven't even gotten to when the Bats figure out Tim was never markless :)

[crusty-chronicles]

HxH Men Throwing Down with their S/O's Plushies

Synopsis: How hxh men react to your plushie collection, and if they'd fight them when you're not there.

An: I'm tired of all the fine men being ignored in the HxH fandom. Here's a Valentine's Day special of some of my favorites who are always overlooked for the most white bread, cardboard personality, toxic men.*cough cough* adult trio* cough cough*

-------------------------------

Leorio 🩺

100% fights your plushies

Without a doubt he throws down with them when you're not there. Even when you're in the room he's throwing hands.

And it is personal 😤

You've caught him on several occasions saying- "Think you can sleep next to my girl/man and get away with it?!? You homewrecker!!!!”

It's honestly really funny to see him put one of your giant bears in a headlock.

But you have to stop him before he tears it because those things are expensive goddamit.

“Leave him alone. I've had him for about ten years and I doubt you could find me another one. So drop him,” you lecture.

And he begrudgingly drops your big teddy bear. But not before complaining that you love it more than him.

All pouty and upset until you kiss his cheek and reassure him.

“Babe, they're not alive. You have absolutely no competition for my heart.”

He knows that, but they're everywhere. Watching him with their beady little eyes from their place on your bed.

Which reminds me-

He piledrives your little plushies when you're not in the room.

If he had it his way, they'd all be locked away somewhere.

But because he loves you with his whole heart, he moves them away from your side of the bed to his.

What? Those little bastards thought they'd get to sleep next to you when he's home? Not a chance!

He hates them for the attention you give them, but he also contributes to your collection.

Whenever he's got funds to spare, he'll bring you home a new addition.

With the condition that you give him twice as many cuddles ☝️

---------------

Ging 🎣

He's a little less aggressive than Leorio, but he still fights your plushies.

And he fights with the intent to win.

Which more often than not leads them to getting ruined.

Tackles the absolute hell out of your big plushies. Then he'll jab it's stomach a few times.

“Getting a little too comfortable on my side, Jeremiah?”

If they're on the bed, they're on the floor when you get back.

Doesn't really do it for jealousy, but because he thinks your reaction is funny.

He'll throw one of the smaller ones off and you let out the most offended gasp.

“You stop that right now! You're gonna get him dirty! And I can't put him in the washer!”

He comes up with excuses too, just to see how much you'll let him get away with.

“That one was looking at me funny.” “You've got a place on your bed for each and every one of those little shittlings, but absolutely no room for me. It's not fair.” “I didn't get you that one, so it's under the bed where it belongs.”

The answer: you let him get away with a lot. You secretly think it's cute, but it's annoying how filthy he gets them.

He also steals them from time to time.

Totally not because he likes having something of you when he's away. What? You're crazy 🙄🙄🙄

He'll complain, but he'll always get you replacements for the ones he damages. He'll even get you the jumbo versions of the little ones.

Just because he loves you, despite his lackluster way of showing it.

-------------------------

Morel 🚬

He's pretty respectful about it

Does not fight them.

But, every man has his weakness.

So there are times when he'll pick one of the smaller ones up and inspect it. Right before he squeezes it completely in his hand.

Why does he do it? Just because.

They're like little stress balls

And it's during one of these moments of weakness that you catch him.

“You're choking out my poor frog! Let him go before his eye pops out!”

And he laughs. He thinks it's sweet how much you love these things.

Even if you've got them on shelves and they stare into his soul at night.

He makes it a habit not to smoke or use his ability in front of them.

They hold too much sentimental value to you. And the last thing he wants is for you to get upset.

But the squishing? It doesn't stop.

It's like they're begging to be smooshed.

And you never fail to get after him every time.

“Quit abusing my babies!” You scold before taking back your stuffed rabbit.

He lets you have another bed to put all your plushies on.

He's a big man 😤😤😤 He can't afford space to share with them. He also likes to sleep next to his partner undisturbed, thank you 😤.

Also contributes to your collection.

And we're not talking every once and a while.

He's got that hunter money, so if you see something you want, it's yours

------------------------

Knov 👔

Arguably the most mature of the bunch

Your precious little babies are safe from him

It doesn't even cross his mind to fight them

That being said, your plushies aren't allowed on the bed at all ☹️

“I refuse to have my sleeping space occupied by that thing.” He said, gesturing to a very well loved seal plush. One of its eyes missing.

“What’s wrong with Samuel?”

“Look at it. The poor thing's traumatized. And you're gonna end up choking on its stuffing.”

They aren't even allowed in the bedroom on shelves.

However☝️, he does end up doing something special for you because of how much you adore your plushies.

He lets you dedicate one entire room to your collection. Buy a little bed for you to put them on. Even gets special shelves installed for you.

That's their room and theirs alone.

Also encourages you to get more now that you have ample space for them.

Every trip/mission he leaves for, he always makes sure to bring you something back.

Whether it be one of the huge bears or a little keychain plush, he gets it for you.

Definitely not a man afraid to spend on his S/O and their interest.

He also doesn't bat an eye at the attention you give them.

They mean a lot to you, but so does he judging by the way you're always ready to compromise

That and the way you cuddle closer to him at night and say-

“You're a whole lot better than even my softest of plushies.”

------------------------

Knuckle 🐕

On a bad day, it's on sight.

Always the bigger ones too

“What're you looking at?” And then he'll wrestle whatever poor plush caught his eye first.

But he feels incredibly bad about it afterwards

Picking up your little dinosaur nugget plush with tears in his eyes.

“I'm so sorry. You're mother's/father's gonna kill me for this.”

Even goes as far as to stitch up any little holes if he damaged them.

What can I say? He's a total softie

Like many of the men on here, he does contribute to your collection.

But you also inadvertently make him start his own 💀

You'll buy one for yourself and because it needs a friend, you buy another.

Only to gift it to him because ‘They’re dating like us.’ 🥺

That's how it starts.

You start buying plushies in pairs.

One for you and one for him.

It never fails to make Knuckle cry.

“Babe really? You didn't have to.”

And he's cradling the little dog plush you got him with such care. Like it's the most delicate thing in the world.

He, of course, makes sure to get another set to pay you back.

Plushies in the bed?

100%

No complaints here.

Even memorizes the names of all of them.

----------------------

Kurapika ⛓️

He simply does not have the energy to fight your plushies

He comes home tired and drained, understandably. And the first thing he does is collapse on the bed, right on top of them.

Doesn't think twice about it. In fact, he likes the extra cushion they provide.

And you don't mind all that much either. Kurapika does a lot. He's been through a lot.

If he wants to rest right on top of your plushies, he's more than welcome.

However, when he's not completely exhausted, he's mean to them ☹️

He'll push off the ones on his side of the bed to make space for himself. And he will not pick them up

Or he'll hide the one you usually snuggle with at night so he can cuddle you himself.

He just wants your warmth after a long day. Is that so much to ask for?

“Kurapika, have you seen my octopus plush anywhere?”

And he'll look away guiltily before mumbling a ‘No. Can't say that I have.’

But he always puts it back when he knows he'll be gone for a while.

He knows it brings you comfort, and who is he to take that away from you.

He does get pouty when you give them extra attention.

“I've been gone for a month and you're too busy cleaning that thing to greet me.” He complains.

Only for you to get up and wrap your arms around him. Giving his cheek a smooch before saying-

“You know you're precious to me. But I wouldn't be so busy cleaning my baby if you'd stop leaving him on the floor.”

He makes it up to you everytime by getting you another one.

He always makes sure to pick you something up when he comes back from searching for his clan's eyes.

A little thank you for always waiting for him and giving endless patience.

-------------------------------

Kite 🪁

Another man whom your plushies are safe from

He's supportive of your collection, but all he asks is that they don't take up the entire bed.

If they do, he's a little mean about it and organizes them all on your side.

That's about as far as he goes with messing with them.

He definitely builds you shelves to keep them in

Again, the less of them in the bed, the more space you two have.

He thinks it's cute how much you care about them, and likes to indulge you by asking how you got them.

He listens to each and every story you have and why each plush is special to you.

Safe to say, this man does not get jealous

A piece of fluff with stuffing is the last thing he's worried about

That being said, he contributes less frequently to your collection than the other men on this list

He limits them to special occasions like your birthday or an anniversary.

Why?

He wants to make sure each one is attached to a special moment so you hold them just as dear as your other ones.

An import memory that you're able to hold onto

He's also careful around your plushies.

He doesn't wanna get them dirty or accidentally tear them because of how much they mean to you.

----------------------

Wing 👓

This man right here is a 10/10

The absolute sweetest man

The thought doesn't even cross his mind to throw down with your plushies

In fact, he prides himself on taking care of them while you're out

Dusting them off, reorganizing them, stitching up any little holes he sees

Also someone who goes out of his way to memorize all their names.

Knows each one by heart because he always listens intently when you talk about them

Your big dinosaur?

That's Chungus.

The little raccoon?

Sylvester.

You want the plushies in bed?

Of course! Each one has their own special place. And he makes sure there's enough space for the both of you.

If he's got money to spare, he's definitely gonna get you something.

You don't even have to ask, he's already bringing you home a little duck plush that Zushi thought you'd like. What can he say? The kid adores you

This man doesn't get jealous whatsoever

In fact, you're the one who ends up getting pouty because he's taking fantastic care of your plushies.

“Honey, I want cuddles.” You whine.

And he's cleaning off one of your bears with a damp rag.

“In a minute, dearest. You got him dirty last night.”

But as soon as he's done, you've got his full attention

He just knows how much you love those things and wants you to be able to cherish them for as long as possible.

-----------------

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕💕💕💕

[soobnny]

no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)

happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person

Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.

He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.

The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.

There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).

From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.

“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.

“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.

Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.

He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.

“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”

“Seungminnie!”

He shifts his attention to the sound.

There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.

There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.

“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.

Whatever he means.

Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.

There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.

“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”

“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.

He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.

“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”

This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.

“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.

“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.

It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”

Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.

“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.

“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”

“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”

By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.

Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.

He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.

He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.

Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?

And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.

“Seungmin?”

His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.

You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.

Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.

“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.

“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.

“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.

You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.

“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”

It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.

Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.

He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.

Not like you do.

So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.

A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.

[generalsmemories]

To raise a child

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader ft. yanqing (platonic)

✧ based on the asks: 3 requests asking for a family fic with jing yuan and yanqing

✧ synopsis: raising a child is always hard, even when you're a long life species with a lot of experiences.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, found family trope (a.k.a my one weakness with every media), yanqing & reader have a slight rocky start, mentions of other characters, sentences in italics are readers thoughts.

✧ a/n: i'm not gonna chuck angst into a found family trope unless i feel particulary miserable, they just gonna have a good ole time being parents to a yanqing from when he was a wee babie to the lieutenant he is today - also a lot of this is my own interpretation SINCE I DON'T GET A CRUMB ON HOW THE HELL THIS MAN FOUND MY BABY. not beta-ed like usual i'm sorry.

The first time you were told about Yanqing's existence was when you were not onboard Luofu, which honestly made the first meeting between the two of you a lot worse.

"... Pardon, he found what now while I'm away?" you stare bewildreded at the messenger before you while clutching the letter Jing Yuan had written to you - you can practically hear his easy-going voice resound in your head through the words before you.

"What do you mean he suddenly picked up a whole child?!"

Safe to say that the Luofu were turned upside down by the time you came back to the ship. Rumours spread amongst the citizens, gossip between the storytellers and the newsboard retelling the latest news and constantly updating on any new "information" they had gotten.

To say you got stopped at every corner before you even stepped foot back in land was an understatement. You practically had a crowd waiting for you - it was only by the assistance of Yukong that you had managed to worm yourself out of the crowd and hightail home.

Maybe it's because Jing Yuan knew you would come home first, or maybe it's because he was aware that you had a lot of questions for him. Which was why you had gotten a text prior to landing with the single message of:

"Decided to take the day off today <3"

Safe to say he was left on read.

"Jing Yuan, what has gotten into you-" are the first words that leaves your mouth when you slam your entrance doors open, only for your eyes to widen when Jing Yuan is already waiting for you at the foyer. Hands behind his back and sporting his signature smile, but your gaze isn't at your lover before you.

Rather it was on the smaller child that was hiding behind his legs, he was by no means scared of your sudden appearance you noticed. Rather, he was sizing you up and down with a fierce gaze, almost like a lion cub who had just found its first prey.

The glare made your previous anger and confusion fade into a more surprised shock, rendering you speechless on how to proceed further. Jing Yuan steps in after seeing your anger dissipate upon seeing the fierce boy, raising a hand to ruffle Yanqing's hair before he directs his gaze back to you who is still staring at Yanqing in mild surprise.

"He's a feisty one isn't he?" is what he utters softly, and it's the slight exhaustion in his voice that causes you to let your guard down and put aside your confusion and need for answers aside.

Right now there's a young child before you, a child that you don't know the lineage of - but a child that Jing Yuan himself had picked up and stood his ground against public opinion for.

And Jing Yuan didn't do things without reason.

But you're well aware that he's also the kind to not tell you much as to why he had done a few decisions. As futile as you know it is, you would still try to get something out of him later. But for now, you would have to try to give a better impression of yourself to this kid who you're pretty sure sees you as anything, but a person with good intentions.

... What do you say to a child that is currently holding animosity towards you?

Seeing your distraught face makes Jing Yuan let out a chuckle, glancing down at Yanqing who is still staring fiercly at you, "They're not someone you should be on guard with. That's my spouse, they're just surprised by your sudden arrival is all, Yanqing."

So his name is Yanqing.

The reassurance from Jing Yuan makes the young boy relax a bit, but you can still tell he's very much on guard against you, "... I'm Yanqing," he mutters quietly.

The two of you seem to have a long way to go from the first encounter.

"... What were you thinking?" you question the moment Jing Yuan slides the door to your bedroom shut, you had spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning up a spare room for Yanqing to sleep in after the meeting while the two had headed out to prepare the paperwork for Yanqing to be offcially be recgonized as a Cloud Knight.

"... I saw potential?" he tries, but with one glance at your direction and being faced with your quirked eyebrow makes him let out a sigh instead, reaching a hand behind his head to pull the red ribbon tying his hair back.

He doesn't say anything as he makes his way over to you. Neither does he utter a word when he lets his entire weight fall on top of your own, the noise of surprise you let out making him chuckle, rubbing his face onto neck, "W-Wait, hold on. There's a literal child in this house now, what are you-"

"Dear, what are you thinking?" Jing Yuan snorts before you finish your sentence, wrapping his arms around your waist before flipping himself over so that you're laying on top of him, "Our schedule clashed together too much that it's been 2 years since I last saw you? And when I meet you again you looked like you were going to pull my head off of my own body, this is quite frankly the first instance where I get you all to myself," he explains, raising an eyebrow at your gradually reddening face, "Whatever you were imagining is beyond me, darling."

"... Shut up and tell me the truth already," you murmur before burying your face in his chest, lifting a closed fist to lightly hit his arm when you feel his chest rumble with his constrained laughter.

"I didn't lie when I said I saw potential. Despite his young age, Yanqing is quite gifted with the sword," he starts after a brief silence, fingers drumming along the spine of your back, "But it would be more accurate to say I'm preparing the future generation?" he muses out loud, sounding unsure himself which makes let out a chuckle, "Wow, I'm sure lady Fu Xuan would be delighted by the news of your possible retirement."

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint our Master Diviner for another few decades unfortunately. She's still far too young to take up the mantle of the general."

You hum, raising your head up from his chest to make eye contact, Jing Yuan directing his gaze from staring up at the ceiling to instead stare at you as well, "Next time you're thinking of picking up a kid, give me a heads up? Or else you're going to end up on the news again like today with the headlines of you committing infidelity."

He laughs, hoisting you further up his body to peck your lips, "Please, I won't be picking up another child anytime soon. But maybe I need to show the citizens that I only have eyes for one person if they were swayed this easily by the apperance of one child."

"... Please don't say something that embarassing in front of Yanqing."

"See, you're already being a great parental figure."

Great parental figure my ass.

Is what's currently running through your mind as you're once again, left alone with Jing Yuan's prodigal apprentince. it's been a few months after Yanqing's first arrival, and the relationship between the two of you seem to still be threading on thin ice.

Your relationship with the young prodigy hasn't gotten worse, but it has in no way improved either. Whenever Jing Yuan is not present amongst the three of you, Yanqing becomes extra reserved and takes extra caution to not bother you - which makes any attempt to even talk to him 10 times harder than it has to be.

Yanqing is out in the garden, brushing the fallen leaves into a neat pile while you're sitting by the living room table doing paperwork. And yet, ever since Jing Yuan had stepped out for some urgent business, the two of you haven't even spoken a single word to each other.

Yanqing was at an age where you didn't need to give him constant attention, but with the way you two had started on the wrong foot it felt a lot harder trying to get closer to him - mostly because the boy himself tries to not be a burden on you, which in a way has become a burden.

Not to mention, Jing Yuan spends the most time with him training him personally - so the time you spend with Yanqing is close to nothing compared to your lover.

The odds are truly against you at the moment.

At this point, the new paper scroll that you had rolled out were becoming useless with how long you had pressed the ink filled brush on it's surface, the gradual circle of ink stained paper growing with each passing minute.

Topics you can talk about.. Jing Yuan mentioned he was great with a sword, but it's been ages since I've held a sword myself till the point he's probably better than me...

Were you always this awkward with children?

Glancing at the clock, you notice it's almost time for your meetup with master Gongshu over at the Artisanship Commission. So with a reluctant sigh, you glance down at the paper scroll before you - that has long been ruined before you put the brush away and roll the scroll back up.

"... Yanqing I'm about to head to out to the Artisanship Commission, can you..." your voice dies down when you see the boy whip his head around the moment you mention the Commission. And although he tries to hide it, you would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of where you are going.

"... Do you want to join?" you end up asking instead.

You've never seen his facial expression change so much in just a few seconds. First you could tell he wanted to agree, but then you're pretty sure he managed to figure out why you were going and didn't want to be a burden, but still wanted to go. You soon saw hope come back to his eyes, presumably remembering that you personally asked, but you saw the same hope dwindle down when he probably thought that you asked just to include him.

The sight made you laugh, "... A child is a child after all, no matter where they are," you whisper quietly to yourself, "You won't be a bother, Yanqing. And wouldn't it be better for you to look around the Luofu a bit? I'm pretty sure Jing Yuan has only brought you to the Cloud Knights training area after all, we can even stop by Cloudbreath Sleeves to take your measurements so that you can get some tailor-made clothes and not Jing Yuan's old clothes."

That seemed to be the only reassurance he needed.

You're pretty sure Yanqing hasn't noticed that your meeting with master Gongshu ended 15 minutes ago. Neither has he seemed to realize that the two of you have spent the next 15 minutes just observing his every reaction to the swords on display.

His eyes seemed particulary glued to an iridescent blue sword with a black handle, master Gongzhu giving a low whistle beside you, "He's got a good eye."

You roll your eyes, "Send me the invoice later," you reply back before stepping towards the awestruck boy, "Why not bring it home with us?" you ask, Yanqing jumping slightly in surprise, his head turning around with widened eyes, "I can't possibly ask that of you, I can just save up-"

"You're staring at it like it's your first love, Yanqing," you chuckle, reaching out to grab the handle, twirling it around before reaching for the scabbard right underneath where it was displayed - sliding the sword inside.

"Consider it a gift, for future endeavours."

He blinks, taking the scabbard from your hands, staring at the intricate design weaved into the metal - and you notice the faint tears forming at the corners of his eyes before the boy leaps into your arms to give you a hug, "I swear I'll treasure it, thank you!"

Perhaps too shocked by the sudden hug, you fail to realize that master Gongshu had quickly snapped a picture of the scene and sending it to a certain general.

Qingzu had to stop the very same general from storming away from the Divine of Foresight to head to the Artisanship Commission the very next minute.

"... Well the two of you seem to have gotten a lot closer these past few months," Jing Yuan comments the moment he noticed the position you were currently in. You merely glared halfheartedly at him, but Jing Yuan made no effort to help you - instead walking over to bend down to peck your forehead, careful to not wake the child asleep on top of you.

"I told him to head home before me since I still had affairs to tend to, didn't think he would immediately collapse on top of you and doze off," Jing Yuan remarks with a laugh.

You had one hand supporting Yanqing weight on top of you so that he doesn't topple over, so you decide to use your other hand to reach over and flick Jing Yuan on the forhead - a flick he moved away from with a smirk, "He just dozed off mid-talk too. He was talking about your recent spar match before he just fell asleep," you say, "And to think he vehemently denied not needing a nap after a training session because he's not a child."

Jing Yuan lets out another laugh at that, effortlessly wrangling Yanqing away from your hold and hoisting him up in his arms without manaing to wake him up, "Well if you treat him like an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child as well."

"You should try to get some rest as well, dear. We can just order something from Aurum Alley later," Jing Yuan suggests, to which you merely nod to, standing up to stretch your limbs, "Join me then, I'm sure our dozing general is quite tired too."

"My, what an alluring offer. Can I assume that there's something more-"

"Don't push your luck."

here's the 3 requests that wanted a family fic - i actually struggled a bit with how to do this, but alas - i just know future me will conjure something up again so have this as a teaser HAHA

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out  a syringe  and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe  in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe  now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe  inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe  on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

[insomniac4000]

Bite Me

Chris Dixon SMUT ChrisMD/female reader.

Chris has a habit of biting his friends when drunk, one night it goes even further

Chris Dixon, known to millions as ChrisMD, had built his reputation opening FIFA packs before moving to football challenges and written and sometimes cheesy jokes. However, among his close circle of friends, he was known for something a little more bizarre: his habit of biting people when he’d had a few too many drinks, his fans were starting to see it more too as his videos started to feature alcohol more and more.

No one was entirely sure how it started. Some blamed a raucous night out in Ibiza. Others swore it was during one of the Sidemen charity matches when Chris, newly single for a few months and overtaken by adrenaline and too much post-match beer, had sunk his teeth into Harry Lewis’ broad shoulder. Whatever the origin, the biting had become a staple of Chris’s intoxicated antics, it was like it was now a meme of sorts but it real life. Every night out it happened and everyone would wait to see who the unlucky victim would be. It wasn’t an aggressive or malicious action from Chris, more like a spontaneous, drunken act of camaraderie. His friends had come to accept it as one of his peculiarities, though that didn’t mean they were entirely okay with it.

In particular George and Arthur Frederick were the ones who protested the most, George remembers the first time it happened to him. The group was gathered at George, Chris and Arthur’s flat for a casual evening. Pizza boxes were stacked on the counter, and the remnants of some games lay scattered across the living room. As the clock ticked toward midnight, Chris’s cheeks were flushed from laughter and a few cans of lager.

George had just finished recounting an embarrassing story about the time he fell into a fountain during a Tiktok he was recording roughly two years ago when Chris pounced.

“Mate, you’re such an idiot,” Chris said, staggering toward George with a grin.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” George replied, shaking his head.

Before George could react, Chris leaned in and chomped on his shoulder.

“OW! What the—Chris!” George yelped, pulling away.

"It’s affection!" Chris declared, grinning. "It’s like a hug but more memorable."

George rolled his eyes. "You’re a menace."

The room erupted in laughter.

“There it is!” ArthurTV declared, pointing at Chris. “The Dixon Bite™. Knew it was coming.”

“It’s like clockwork,” Arthur Hill added, shaking his head.

George rubbed his shoulder, half laughing, half glaring. “You’re like a drunk toddler, mate. What is wrong with you?”

Chris, unfazed, raised his can of beer in mock salute. “I told you it’s affection, George. Pure, unfiltered affection.”

Most of the time though it was usually Arthur Frederick, also known as ArthurTV who was on the receiving end of the Dixon chomp.

The first time it happened on camera was during Chris’s first pub golf video, they were a long time into the video and a lot of alcohol had been consumed. They were sat outside on a wooden bench, others were ready to get up and leave with only Chris, Arthur and a cameraman remaining.

“These arms have so little fat on them” Chris slurred as he attempted to pinch the bicep and got his face right up to the muscle in order to admire it. Arthur paid absolutely no attention to his old school friend as he was playing chess on his phone. Suddenly though the brunettes attention was grabbed by the mistakable feelings of two small rows on teeth on his bicep, he looked and there was Chris hanging from his arm.

“Get off me,” Arthur cried and shrugged the smaller man off who could only give a very drunken giggle in response.

“I am the envy of every girl in my Youtube comments right now.”

There was one person who was very bemused by the whole thing, and that was Y/N. Y/N was a relative newcomer to the Youtube scene, she had started out on TikTok but had branched out to Youtube over the past eighteen months, it was a very similar story to George so because of that the two became quite good friends. She could be incredibly sassy, which was good considering she spent a lot of time keeping in check a lot of rowdy boys.

The group were out for karaoke, it had become quite a staple for all of them, joining the aforementioned group of George, Chris, the Arthur’s and Y/N was another relative newcomer to the content creating scene; Italian Bach. Dutch courage was always needed for people to get up in front of a crowd and sing, and that also meant that everyone was waiting for Chris to pounce, today it was Arthur Hill’s turn.

“You haven’t eaten dinner and with your stature that can only spell disaster, here have this,” Arthur suggested as he pushed a bottle of water in Chris’s direction.

“You’re a good mate, Arthur,” he said, accepting the water. Then, without warning, he lunged and bit Arthur’s upper arm, his mouth still wet from the beverage.

Arthur froze, staring at Chris in disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Consider it a thank you,” Chris said, grinning.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “You know, one day someone’s going to bite you back, and you’re not going to like it.”

Y/N shook her head from her seat. “You’re like an overexcited puppy, Chris. Maybe someone needs to get you a chew toy.” Y/N and Chris had a budding friendship, it was really awkward at first as the pair didn’t know how much they had in common until they both really got to know each other more. Chris really liked the when Y/N took charge too, he needed a girl just like that to keep him on the straight and narrow. Not that he needed parenting or anything but he knew he sometimes took things too far and needed someone to tell him when it was enough and when he needed to wind his neck in. Chris stared at Y/N intensely, she gave back a slightly bemused expression as she watched him bite his lower lip slightly.

“Or my cock… wait what?” ArthurTV added trying to cut the tension.

Nights out with the group were very often, especially for the group who lived together and Arthur and Y/N tagged along often as they were all single. As Bach had a girlfriend he wasn’t always present. The group this time was missing Bach as well as Arthur Hill who was busy rehearing for his upcoming tour. Chris was particularly buoyant that night, fueled by tequila shots and the high of securing a girls number. Y/N was standing at the bar, chatting with George, when Chris appeared out of nowhere.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "You’re a legend. An absolute legend."

"Thanks, Chris," Y/N said, laughing. "You’re not so bad yourself."

Before she could say more, she felt his teeth on her upper arm as it was exposed by her sleeveless top

"Chris!" she shouted, jerking away. "Did you just bite me?"

"It’s a compliment!" Chris insisted, grinning. "Means I like you." This was the first time Chris had done it too her and when he let go and looked at Y/N he had such a cheeky look on his face, she tried to be angry but couldn’t help but laugh at the dopey expression, it was quite cute plus she liked the idea she had sort of now been through the initiation ceremony to join the group. She felt like it was a rite of passage she had just gone through.

She stared at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. "You’re lucky I don’t bite back."

The idea must have planted itself in Y/N’s mind, because the next time they were out, she decided to test his theory, They were at another bar. Chris was his usual tipsy self, moving through the group like a whirlwind of energy. Y/N watched as he playfully bit ArthurTV on the shoulder before bursting into laughter.

“You’re going to pick on the wrong person one day,” Y/N mused finished her drink and placing it on the table behind her.

“Hey, I have never had any complaints about my mouth skills before now,”

“You are so full of it aren’t you?”

“You want to be filled…” While Chris was distracted by talking Y/N leaned in and bit him on the arm—not too hard, but enough to make him yelp.

"Ow!" Chris exclaimed, clutching his arm. "What was that for?"

"Just returning the favour," Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Chris stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Alright, fair play.”

The rest of the night, there was a palpable shift in the dynamic between Chris and Y/N. They found themselves gravitating toward each other, the biting incident breaking down some unspoken barrier. Their banter was sharper, their laughter louder, and there was a spark in their interactions that hadn’t been there before.

At one point, they were sitting at a table, sharing a plate of chips. Y/N reached for the last one, and Chris playfully swatted her hand away.

"Hey!" she protested. "I’m hungry."

"So am I," Chris said, popping the chip into his mouth with a cheeky grin.

"You’re impossible," Y/N said, shaking her head. But she was smiling.

Chris leaned in slightly, his voice softer. "And yet, you’re still here."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t look away. "Maybe I like impossible."

They stayed like that for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Then, without thinking, Chris closed the distance between them and kissed her.

Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she kissed him back, her hand resting lightly on his arm. When they finally broke apart, Chris looked at her, a mix of surprise and delight on his face.

"I didn’t see that coming," he admitted.

"Me neither," Y/N said, laughing softly. "But I’m not complaining."

Chris smiled and leaned in again, the kiss wasn’t as soft this time, less tentative and more passionate. Y/N kissed back with full gusto, letting out a small moan when she felt a slight nibble on her bottom lip.

It felt like moments until the pair were in an Uber, Chris’s hand moving up Y/N’s leg the further they got to his flat. The lift ride was quiet and as soon as they reached the black front door to the flat Y/N was pinned against it Chris kissing her again. They fumbled their way to the bedroom Y/N knocking into a plant as they went discarding clothes along the way.

Y/N moaned as Chris’s kisses and light nibbles moved down her jawline and neck.

“You like that?” Chris smirked peppering his kisses lower, removing Y/N’s shirt and bra before carefully placing one her breasts in his mouth.

“Fuck Chris,” Y/N gasped as he liked and again gently bit her where she was most sensitive.

“God you moaning my name is sexy,” he whispered removing Y/N’s underwear. He planted kisses up her thigh, too slowly for Y/N’s liking “Chris please I need you,” she managed to breathe out, that was all Chris needed before his tongue made contact with Y/N’s clit causing her to moan incredibly loudly. It was an ongoing joke that Chris had recently had a lot of practice with women but Y/N was now reaping those rewards massively as Chris was showing her he knew exactly what he was doing, eating her out, his tongue working wonders as a hand massaged her clit simultaneously. Y/N’s breath quickened and her moans loudened as she felt the familiar feeling bubbling in the pit of her stomach, but she also wanted Chris to get his.

“Come here,” she demanded pushing Chris’s face from her pussy and forcing him to look at her. He removed his boxers and was surprised as Y/N pushed him back slightly and Y/N crawled onto Chris’s lap kissing him as she lowered herself onto him, lotus was one of her favourite positions. She bounced on him with as much gusto as she had, only stopping to moan slightly when Chris kissed her, adding the odd bite. Soon enough the pair entered a climax shortly after another before collapsing exhausted in the bed.

Chris was awake first the next morning, he went to grab a coffee hearing that George and Arthur were already awake.

“And where did you get off to last night?” George asked with a smirk as he leaned against the breakfast bar.

“What do you mean?” Chris tried to shrug it off as he poured his cup of morning.

“Well there’s the fact you left without saying goodbye last night, then when we came home we find the plant half hanging off the table, tripped over women’s shoes and some very obvious sounds,” Arthur replied also smirking as he grabbed his cup.

“Well it sounds like you’ve already made your minds up,” Chris shrugged, he looked up at the creaking door to his room and Y/N walked in wearing her outfit from the night before. Her big eyes went even bigger as she saw three men staring back at her she quickly tried to scramble for an excuse.

“I erm.. got too drunk and Chris bought me back here, being a gentleman though he slept on the floor…”

“Y/N that would be so much more convincing if it wasn’t for the fact your neck and shoulder looks like you’ve had cupping treatment,” George replied. Y/N walked towards a mirror and sure enough Chris has definitely made his mark.

“Chris we really need to talk about this biting thing,” she sighed.

[buck-star]

Te iubesc

Bucky, your best friend, has to confess something. But instead of just saying it out loud, he uses a little trick to help him say it.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1.337 Words

Warnings/Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pinning, love confession

Authors Note: Beta’d by my favorite person @thevillainswhore. Te iubesc, thank you so much. Also for the editing of the photos! You’re the best!❤️❤️

Events: Bucky Barnes Bingo [BO23 | K5 | Avengers | @buckybarnesbingo], Marvel-OC-Hub-Bingo [Row Two-Three | It was always you | @marvel-oc-hub]

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The sun is shining beautifully down onto the white snow that covers the ground like a fluffy blanket. It reflects the warm yellow of the sun brightening up the living room. You watch Steve and Tony talking to Thor outside of the big building, probably planning the next mission - or waiting for one of them paying less attention to land with the force of two other men in the snow.

A soft smile plays at your lips, causing the corners of your lips to twitch with amusement. Who might be the first to get a bunch of snow in their face or fly into the soft fluffy coldness you wonder?

“They will throw Tony into the snow first, dragă mea,” Bucky’s soft voice comes from behind you. You turn slowly around, watching the broad super-soldier standing in the door-frame of the living room. His ocean blue orbs are focused on you, softness and love visible in them while he has the most beautiful smile plastered on his handsome face.

You laugh softly, leaning back on the couch while you let your eyes roam shamelessly over the muscular body of your favorite super-soldier. Bucky pushes himself off the frame and walks closer to you, his steps surprisingly quiet for the wall of muscles he literally is. Your best friend lets himself fall down next to you on the couch, leaning back while he automatically spreads his thick thighs.

“Poor, tiny Tony,” you giggle, turning to the windows again to see if they already started to throw one another into the snow and the moment you turn, you see the smaller man flying into the snow. Thor and Steve give one another a high five, before Steve is the next who lands with his face first in the snow. “Steve got face palmed by the snow.”

Bucky bursts out laughing next to you, something so bare and innocent. Two years ago, you never would have thought that this man, who was only known for his PTSD and staring problem, would actually be such a soft man, who has the most beautiful and heartwarming laugh possible. But there he is, laughing like his past doesn’t exist; his nose scrunches slightly and the freckles around his eyes are more visible, making him so much cuter.

“Face palmed by the snow,” he chuckles, shaking his head. His blue eyes settle on your face again when you turn toward him, nodding softly. The brunette's metal arm slides behind your head over the backrest of the couch and he shifts in his seat. “I thought about something, dragă mea.”

“About being face palmed by the snow too?” You ask, giggling. Bucky shakes his head, letting his cold digits run over your shoulder to your neck and back down your shoulder. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and Bucky’s smile widens when he notices, letting his fingers trail south along your collarbone. His touch is light and tender, feeling like a feather tickling you slightly.

“Not really, but if it would make you happy,” he chuckles. His eyes glisten softly as he leans closer to you. Of course, he always wants to please everyone, he would agree to a lot just to make others happy — to make you happy. “You always look so excited when I speak Romanian, so I thought since it's just you and me, I could teach you some things.”

The grin on his face and the mischievous glint in his eyes has your attention for a moment. It's not just because you're excited when he does it, it's something that lights the fire of desire deep inside of him. But you nod, agreeing to his offer. Not just because you want to get to know more about the sparkle in his eyes but also because of the opportunity to listen to him speaking in Romanian for you.

He crosses his legs, keeping the soft motion of his fingers along your collarbone and up and down your shoulder. “First one, it's an easy one. Te iubesc.”

His voice sounds even softer when he speaks in another language and you enjoy the syllables echoing through your mind for a moment longer. You clear your throat. “Te iubesc.”

Bucky's heart flutters, knowing you have no idea what you just said but hearing those word makes the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, before he leans his head back and closes his eyes. It sounds perfect when you say it, maybe he should make you say it more often — of course, he should. He needs to hear you say it, over and over again. Bucky knows he could never get tired of it.

“Şi eu te iubesc, lubirea mea” he replies, waiting for your reaction. You narrow your eyes, titling your head slightly in confusion. Bucky chuckles, leaning closer, his warm breath against your neck and you shiver slightly. The brunette blows softly against the soft, warm skin of your neck, noticing the hitch of your breath. “I love you too, my love.”

You pull back slightly, looking at him with widened eyes. Bucky studies your expression for a moment, a flash of concern and uncertainty visible on his face. He keeps his hand on your shoulder, wanting — needing — to feel your warmth underneath his fingers. You keep staring at him, slowly bringing your hands to capture his face. Your tips brush the soft stubble on his face and a soft smile forms on your lips again.

“Do you mean it? I mean, do you—” you interrupt yourself, searching for anything in his eyes that it was just a joke. But there is nothing but honesty and love, not a hint that it was a joke or just some lesson in Romanian. “You really mean it?”

Bucky nods. He chuckles softly, wondering if it wasn’t obvious before. “Didn't you notice? Everyone called me out that I was so obvious,” he chuckles, leaning closer again. “I was afraid to tell you, didn't know how. You know me from the very start after being the winter soldier, I was afraid you see nothing but a victim in me.”

He takes a shaky breath, moving a strand of your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. For a moment his eyes move around, settling on the scene of Steve, Thor and Tony throwing snow at one another. He then brings his ocean blue eyes back to yours, a soft sigh escapes his plump lips.

“Steve and Nat assured me that you don't see me as just that. And I—” Bucky mumbles softly, his fingers stroking your cheekbone, while he leans further into the soft touch of your hands still capturing his cheeks. “I still didn't know how to tell you. But I thought when I make you say I love you to me then I could say I love you too.”

“Şi eu te iubesc, Bucky,” you whisper, leaning closer until your lips are only inches away from his. Bucky’s smile grows and he breaks the distance between the two of you, pressing his plump, soft lips against yours. Your heartbeat increases and a low chuckles rumbles through Bucky’s chest.

He traces his thumb along your jaw, pulling slightly back after a moment. “Înseamnă că te iubesc mai mult decăt orice pe lumea asta,” he whispers against your lips with a soft smile. Bucky then leans closer once again, pecking your lips. “Before you wonder, it means, I love you more than anyone or anything in the whole universe.”

“Şi eu te iubesc mai mult dec—” you stumble over your words, huffing with frustration. Bucky chuckles softly, pulling you closer again.

“I know,” he mumbles, his lips touching yours. “Let me enjoy the sweet taste for a moment longer and then we can face palm the snow,” Bucky laughs before he kisses you once more. And the soft feeling of his lips and his smell surrounding you lets you feel like you’re home — definiția ta a casei.

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