#TF puffs

[dumblefork]

I can't believe Nico had a custody battle with Nyx and won.

[vanillayoteart]

Raccoon HRT

"P.L.PSORA HRT- Mo. 28" Something for @PrincessofParty from my weekly streams!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

aaaand BUMBLEBEE 😊 !!!!

[oldguardleatherdog]

This blog is being stalked by Twitter's cringe-inducing "commentary community"

Along with my other social media accounts! Here's today's Wall O'Text™️ with all the juicy details!

Did you know that Twitter trolls have a "community" all their own?

Twitter's "Commentary Community" (I prefer the far snappier "CoCo") is a study in sociology gone wrong. They combine bad-faith moral outrage with Puritan self-righteousness and condescending LGBTQ-phobia into a toxic slurry of fecal napalm designed to cause maximal misery for the targets of their daily brigadings and coordinated hatestream attacks.

When they're not targeting outsiders, they turn their fire on each other with radioactive glee. And this is all they do, all day, every day, living off their own bile, a daily diet of ultraprocessed poison. You don't want to imagine what their offline lives must be like.

The Venn diagram of CoCos, Kiwi Farmers, YouTube streamploitation hacks, and self-loathing gay and trans people is close to a perfect circle. Arrogant disdain for anything they deem unclean or that ruffles their fee-fees isn't a bug, it's a feature.

The level of sheer gall with this crowd is off the charts, and the number of CoCos who have the standing, achievement, talent, scholarship, or knowledge that would legitimize their moralistic hectoring is exactly zero.

Many CoCos make significant money on Twitter, YouTube, and other platforms from this fetid cesspool of free-range loathing, mega-stalking, and network of like-minded fans who amplify their obsessive campaigns to the millions of mouth-breathers and MAGA chuds that give Elon a reason to crawl out of the woodwork every morning - too much money to go unexamined for much longer.

There's more than a hint of sus activity and shady people in the CoCo ecosystem. A thorough examination by investigative and oversight authorities who may have an interest in the flow of money, misinformation, and funding sources for this crowd would go a long way towards reducing their daily firehose of sewage.

Of course, I'll continue to post the same way I've been posting online for the past 36 years, with increased safeguards and monitoring. We run a tight ship in this kennel, and people of good will are always welcome here.

I encourage you to send asks and messages with material I can post here that my growing CoCo fan base can put to use as they reach around my hot, wet, throbbing, pulsating blog, desperate for a fix, grasping for another strawman, trying to convince themselves that they're needed and necessary and loved.

[bolly--quinn]

idk but its really satisfying hearing you trashtalk mrs puff. would you do it again

I hate this bitch, she reminds me of my 3rd grade teacher

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

I saw your TFA Professor Sumdac + Doctor Wakeman art, what do you think of Professor Sumdac + Professor Utonium as a BROTP?... What do you think of Sari Sumdac hanging out with the Powerpuff Girls? 💚💙💖

oh Oh OH this is interesting!

Thought I would see a lot of competition between the girls looking for the #1 daughter hugs saklljsjslkdj

[just-absolutely-super]

Galvatron, they're trying to save the universe along with you

quit being a fucking DICK and sabotaging them!

[hoshigray]

𝐂𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | s. gojō + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Three powerful empires, two childhood companions, and one you. What is supposed to be a peaceful alliance is slowly turning into a rocky relationship between royal friends...Is there any way you can save it?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo + true form! Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - royal-like + fantasy AU! - porn with plot - Gojo + reader is age 28 + Sukuna is older; mid-30s - mutual pining + confessions - size differences - threesome - double penetration; anal & vaginal - virginity loss - fingering (f! receiving) - back-to-chest + cowgirl dp positions - clitoral play - cerfix-fucking - overstimulation - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, dove, human, little one, pet, sweetie) - marriage proposals - cameos: Utahime and Miwa - Gojo and Sukuna can't stand each other, obvi - humor + drama - mention of drool, blood, spit and tears - will be proofread later.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15.4k words (BRUH, i hate it here.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: aight, after 10 whole months, it's FINALLY dropped! this took foreverrrr, ughhhh. anyways, sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy this one, and thanks again for 11.2k starlings, ilysmmm!! ☆☆

“…”

“—y Lady…My Lady!”

“Huh?” You blink and face the door where the voice is coming from. “Oh, I’m sorry, Utahime. You can come in.”

“Jeez, I was knocking for a whole minute.” Your lady-in-waiting, Utahime, closes the door behind her when entering your chambers, walking up to where you were sitting by the mirror. “And I thought I told you to refer to me by my last name, my Lady.”

You smile at the reflection of the other coming behind you, kneeling and readying the iron basin filled with warm water and rose petals. Her hand and the washcloth swish the surface for the floral scents to enter your nostrils. “Well, we’ve been friends for how long? I’ve referred to you by your first name for all my life, even before you became my handmaiden.”

“Hmph, even then,” Utahime scoffs before taking your feet and dipping them in the warm water. “You don’t see me dare call the sole, precious child of this empire’s greatest warrior by their given name.”

“No, but I always tell you I don’t mind. Besides, you usually do it when we’re alone, and that’s enough for me.”

“If that’s what makes my Lady hap—“

“It does.” You look at her with a pleasant aura, and the dark-haired one snickers before straining the washcloth. 

“As you wish…Y/n.” You puff your chest with satisfaction; however, your handmaiden isn’t done talking, “But I know the matter of my name isn’t something that’s having you lost in your thoughts.” Her observation takes you slightly aback, and her brown orbs peer up to capture your attention. “Would you like to tell me what’s corrupting your mind?”

With a heavy sigh, your back touches the chair as you slouch. Your eyes glance to the open window as the blinds drift gently with the calm wind. The swaying motions of the curtains almost convince your stress to wither away along with the quietness. Almost.

“Utahime,” you begin with her name, still facing the window. “…What do you think about Lord Satoru Gojo?”

“Tch,” you didn’t have to turn to know that the woman had the most disgusted expression, the click of her teeth was telling. “What is there to think?”

“Hehe, well, we’ve known each other since we could walk—“

“Yeah, and — pardon me, my Lady — but that bastard is such a nuisance, even if he just became the crowned heir of the Gojo bloodline and the holder of the Six Eyes.” The dark-haired woman scrubs your feet with vigor, but you don’t say anything, containing your laughter. “That man–ugh! Every time he visits the palace, he will never stop teasing me for deciding to leave my family and become your lady-in-waiting. Who does he think he is!”

The laugh you try to hinder seeps out in hushed giggles. “Well—ahem—what about Lord Ryomen?”

Utagime stops her hand and washcloth between your toes, her face in your direction. Both brows trenched with a thin line of her mouth. “……As of recent…Scary–no, intimidating would be an understatement...my Lady, perhaps the visit and stay of the two lords is what have you down?”

Another heavy sigh, “I guess that would be the case…”

You reside in the founding empire of the great continent. In the ancient past, it is said that the Great Saint Tengen came from the heavens and blessed this world with miracles, living in the country that you’re standing in right now. It was said that Tengen was the benevolent child of Gods and the Parent of Beings who graced everyone – both human and non – with compassion, kindness, and love through their sorcery. When they disappeared, the world fell into a divide, their people sticking amongst themselves while following the teachings and words of Saint Tengen.

As the centuries came following this tale, the countries of this world have maintained a relatively peaceful union. However, the main continent – your continent – is home to three major empires: the North, the East, and the West. As mentioned before, you live in the founding Western nation, also known as the homeland of Tengen. 

You are a royal of this land and the sole heir to the throne right after your father, a mighty war soldier and sorcerer respected by his people and allies. As the crowned king of the Western capital, your father has done his job in using his strong leadership to maintain a functional structure for the people, using his wisdom to tread on matters with a tranquil mind, and making decisions that would not only benefit his own people but also his allies. Sometimes, you forget that such a great man could be your father. Yet his undying love for you, his sole child and princess, proves how lucky you are.

In the Northern Lands above are known as the land of Sorcery. Your father may be a powerful sorcerer, but the empire he rules does not harbor the majority of the population who practice sorcery (or lack thereof). That would go to the snowy Northern Empire, a land where many of Tengen’s scholars and practitioners have come from and implemented their teachings. The current head of this nation is bestowed to the affluent House Gojo, who recently crowned their heir after the death of its late king. Satoru Gojo, the first royal after a century gifted with two of the most intense abilities made by Saint Tengen – the Six Eyes and Limitless – sits on the Northern throne. And is also a dear family friend.

To the East lies a country mostly comprised of harsh deserts and dangerous forests, filled with creatures that aren’t of the human imagination. Once referred to as the land of “Tengen’s True Children,” the eastern empire is known worldwide as the Demon Country. Creatures reside in this part, beings that can easily overpower the average human – or worse, kill. They are ruled by the King of Demons, Sukuna Ryomen. As the scariest, cold-hearted, and violent beast of the empire, Sukuna is regarded as Tengen’s “Fallen Star,” a soul that embodies the precise opposite nature of the saint. And yet, this brutal master is also a cherished companion in the company of you and your father.

“What about their visits seems to make you upset?” Utahime lifts the bottom of your nightgown to scrub further up, the warm, damp towel scraping the skin of your left femur. 

“I don’t know…I suppose it’s because things are different than a decade and a half ago.” It was one way of speaking the truth.

“Why, of course, things would be different now. You expect I’d be looking after a tiny heir all my life?” She giggles. “Although, that would be quite nice.”

“Oh, to be young forever would be a treat, wouldn’t it?” You add on to her humor. “Yet, that’s not what I meant. It’s been so long since the three of us been in this palace together – let alone in any space together. The War of the Blood and Magic has been ongoing for years now. Whenever my father wishes to speak with them about an issue, one must be here while the other is in their respective territory.“ 

“Mmm, I have observed that…But still, even with this war going on, it shouldn’t negate the fact that you three have been friends for so long. I still remember the day young Gojo came to the garden where you and I were making flower crowns.“

You smile at the memory. “I remember how upset you were when he grabbed my hand one day and took us to his guest room to show his Limitless.”

You try your hardest to keep in your laughter when she glares up at you – not at you, but at the recollection instead. “That fool, even as a child, knows nothing of boundaries. He was a bright boy — still is, I’ll give him that. But my Gods, the way he would do everything in his power to impress you was so cocky of a young lord, especially in the presence of the next heir to the continent. The nerve of him…And then! The time he had the nerve to question me when I told you I wanted to be your handmaiden. That little blue-eyed weasel said, ‘You? The daughter of a mediocre house, as the princess’ personal maid? You should try and aim lower or marry someone who’d tolerate your un-ladylike attitude.’ I was too stunned to speak…I should’ve choked his ass out!” 

“—Pfffthahaha, stop, you’re scrubbing too hard!” You halt your lady-in-waiting with stiffened giggles, the poor woman sighing for displaying such aggression unbefitting for her title. “You could never stand him, and to think I thought you had a crush on him.” 

“Please, my Lady, never say that aloud, or else my father would try to make my worst nightmare become reality.” She shakes her head, putting your left leg into the basin and switching to the right. 

“And the day I introduced you as my maid to him, you had the smugest smirk that couldn’t be wiped off that night.”

“You’re goddamn right, my Lady!” That coarse remark had the both of you in a fit of cackles, water damn near splashing out as you wiggle your legs. “Ahhhh, but those were the days. I believe Lord Ryomen came into the picture after that. I remember the first day your father accepted the young demon king’s wish to seek an audience; he was a bit shorter than his current eight-foot-tall stature. Four arms were tiny like a teenager, and his,” she waves a hand up and down over the left side of her face. “This was distinguishable.”

You hum along with the description of the once young teenage demon king. “His human mother died during childbirth, and his father a demon who was exorcised for impregnating the poor woman. He was the first hybrid sorcerer of his time to utilize sorcery with the dark techniques of demon arts, becoming the most powerful and making a name for himself in the Eastern empire. He was alongside my father during the Great Demon War, using his powers to take down opposing cursed forces from outside nations. The two earned each other’s respect – more on my father’s part.”

“That, he was…truly a hard one to read, outside of always looking like he’d cut something out of boredom. I worried for the day he’d catch sight of me looking at him the wrong way and slice my throat,” the mere thought of the deadly being’s scowl was enough to send goosebumps up Utahime’s way. “Even the spars he had with your father and Gojo, I’m amazed to see this palace still standing in one piece.”

“Hehe, imagine how I felt when he’d catch me watching and then pull me aside to train with him — not asking, demanding that he teaches me how to wield a weapon.”

“Ohhh, my Lady, my nerves were never calm whenever he instructed you. Fearing for your life was my biggest sport. He couldn’t stand the fact that the sole heir of the greatest warrior didn’t have the drive to wield and charge.” She places your other leg down, rinsing the washcloth with more water before asking for your right arm. “It’s not like your father ever dared to entertain the thought of you entering battle anyway! That man, truly a scary thing…”

You throw your head back, resting it on the rail of the chair. “For my eighteenth year, he gifted me my own sword — handmade and light for my hands.”

“Men.” Utahime shakes her head once again. “Yet, despite how odd he and Gojo are, they seemed at ease whenever you were around. Whether it be visits from them to discuss with the King or attending events here at the palace, those two acted a lot more…calm.” 

Her observations stuck with you, closing your eyes to think more. “I only wonder if we could revert to those days when we were close. Unfortunately, with this current war between the two, this vision is impossible to imagine….”

You and the two lords have been friends for years – decades, even. And you were no fool; it was apparent that this relationship would dwell into something less familiar once the two become distant. And the war between the two empires proves this statement true…

It was your twenty-fourth year when you heard the news of the War of Blood and Magic. A year prior, an incident in the northern empire occurred where a sorcerer and his company were butchered by invading demons. Enraged, many men would go down to the demon continent to pillage and exorcise demon villages and towns as a form of justice. However, it only sparked the increasing tension between the factions into a conflict past the phase of talk and civilized words. 

Taking matters into his own hands, Sukuna found the men responsible for the rampage and had their bodies sliced within seconds, sending their bloody, severed heads back to the North as his declaration of war. In the coming years after that, there was nothing but ongoing bloodshed between the two; every battle and atrocity shared with your father made you squeamish – not just because of the brutality, but also the loss of Sukuna and Gojo’s relationship with every passing day.  

It made you feel sick — powerless in wanting the two to remember their merciful ways and talk like men. But you knew that was child's play — the time for miracles and fairy tales vanished with Tengen. And now, as the fourth year of this constant battle between humans and demons of this continent shows no signs of stopping, your worrying nature is on edge more than ever. 

“It may seem impossible to imagine, but it doesn’t mean it’s not worth the execution,” Utahime’s voice rings you back to the present, alternating to your left arm to wipe before dismissing herself from the night. “I’m sure your father believes that as well; otherwise, he wouldn’t have invited the two here for the first time in four years. I think he and all the people of this empire grow worrisome for the fate of this continent if all that’ll be left is a clash between two factions.”

“That may be true,” yet your tone was somber. “But if he can’t convince his two trusted allies to cease this fight, then I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do but see who comes out victorious. And I’d hate to see one stand and the other down in a pool of their blood…”

Utahime hums and lets the silence take over for a few seconds. And then she speaks again, “….Maybe, if not your father, then you should be the one to bring the two together.”  

Me? “Me?”

“Yes, my Lady. You may be the princess of the greatest warrior, but you are also the dear friend of his allies. Your word means law to them — they trust your input when asked and see you as a perfect successor in line.”  

“But that’s just based on titles and old conversations that don’t hold up to the now…Out of the three of us, I was the one who stayed put in this castle while the others played dirty, severing limbs and creating craters on this sacred continent. We are not children anymore, yet I feel like the one who’s still a naive babe with hands clean.” 

“Now that is not true, my Lady!” Fierce brown eyes bore to you. “Just because you don’t have blood on your hands doesn’t make you unfit as a leader. You are the sole child of the King of the Western Empire, the land that Tengen once slept and walked on. That makes you the one next in line after your father.”

“That is my stated birthright—“

“And so!” You held your tongue; she was not done yet. “You have proven that birthright true from what you’ve done so far. I can count on my hands and toes all the times your father came to you for advice on a matter that didn’t sit right with him, knowing that your wisdom and compassion aid your judgment. And let’s not forget how you’ve kept a neutral stance on this issue thus far, knowing it’s the best and safest option for your father and his people. You are his child, after all…What I’m saying is that people change. And that goes the same for you; you’ve become a face I can trust and depend on, and I’m glad to have the right to watch over you until you see fit.” 

You knew she meant every word, so you kept silent for her to finish.

“So, I say this with all the genuineness in my heart. I believe you can smack some sense up those two’s minds. You are the princess, but you are a friend above all else. Lord Gojo had just arrived today, leaving Lord Ryomen on his way in three days' time. Express to them how you feel, that you wish for nothing but an end to this bloodshed and to restore whatever’s left to rebuild their past alliance.”

There was nothing wrong with her words; everything was well-spoken with a perspicuous style and valid points. She was your closest friend – no one knew you better than she did. So, there’s no reason to try and find whatever flawed construct that was in her argument. 

Finally, after she was done dapping your arm with the washcloth and drying your feet after taking them out of the metal basin, you smiled. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right; I’m your best friend!” Utahime stands with a puffed chest filled with pride, picking up the basin by the handles. “And as the right one, I reckon you should turn in for the night. Leave this matter for tomorrow so the solution you’re looking for will be easier to find.”

“Mmm, your advice is well-received like always.” You stand from the chair, stretching your limbs. When she approaches your door, you bid your handmaiden farewell for the night, “See you in the morning, Utahime.” 

With a wink, she parts before shutting the door, “Sleep well and tight, my Lady.”

The warm presence of your friend is missed now that you’re alone in your room. The candles around your chambers exhibit a warm glow that should make you feel safe, but that wasn’t the case today. Even after your night routine, the cold still resided in your skin. You sigh again through your nostrils; the invisible weight on your shoulders makes it impossible to lift them.

You turn back to your mirror – your reflection brings up the conversation with your best friend minutes ago. Examining your features, placing your hand on your cheek to sense your skin, alone with your thoughts. Did I really change that much? Your face tilts to the side, but the different angle doesn’t seem to help give a proper answer. Hmm…Perhaps it’s something I’m not supposed to see. 

With a yawn, you stand straight again, deciding to take up Utahime’s advice and retire for the night. You face your queen-sized bed, anticipating your figure sinking into the soft, comfortable mattress. 

What you didn’t anticipate was releasing a big gasp when turning to your bedding, your body going rigid, and your blood stopping circulation. 

“Hey.”

Something was sitting on your bed. No, someone was on your bed. And judging by the deep, guttural timbre of their voice, you are familiar with this person. 

You turned to your left once you heard a word. A figure was coming into the lighted room from the dark of the balcony – a giant, no, ginormous figure. Based on the height, he was inches from touching the entrance frame, way taller than any royal you’ve ever met — or, at least, any human royal you’ve ever seen.  

The body was broad and could engulf you even from ten steps away. Four burly arms protrude from the torso, and black nails that resemble claws match the black tattoos painted on his shoulders, biceps and triceps, wrists, back, and chest. The markings also reside on the right of his face that’s morphed with another, which holds four red eyes instead of two, along with earrings that stretch his big earlobes. Aside from his bloody orbs, one thing that contrasts his appearance is the rusty salmon color of his hair. And that was the first thing you saw — the first thing that had your mind recollect him.

“Lord Ryomen.” His name didn’t feel proper to say. It’s been almost a year since you last saw him, but he was still the same brutal man you’ve heard about all this time…yet a companion of yours nonetheless. “Father told me you would be here in two days. How did you—“

“You know I’m not one to wait.” He crossed his lower arms, the upper ones covered by a black robe that matched the black hakama pants he wore. “Especially when it comes to visiting this place.”

“And of Uraume?” The mention of the demon king’s trusted adviser quirks his brow. “Is it okay to leave them alone without you to watch over?”

“You think I’m weak on my own?”

“N–No, of course not!” You were quick to refute — you had to be when it came to him. “It’s just that I would feel bad; they’d worry about where you are.”

“And here you are worrying about them worrying about me. Hmph, humans,” he scoffs, and the mouth on his stomach grins. “Uraume knows to look after the ship when I’m gone or be my eyes when I’m not around. I’m not a child that needs protecting.”

You bow to him. “Of course you aren’t, my Lord. Forgive me for having you think as such.”

He hums, tilting his head while examining you. “Good. Lift your head.” You do as you’re told, watching him take a few steps closer to you. “It’s cold; why is your fire not set?”

You look at what he’s referring to, seeing that your fireplace harbored no flame. “I told my maids that I would be fine tonight without it, the heavy blankets will do—“

Your eyes travel back to Sukuna, only to see he isn’t where he stood. He vanished, nowhere in your room to be found. You turned behind, but he wasn’t there either. But once you heard heavy feet thunder on your floor again, you spun around to see the beast carrying four logs, one in each hand. You were marveled; you only heard talk of his speed, now it was a little scary seeing the real deal.

Sukuna bends down in front of your fireplace, setting the logs down perfectly. “Ignoring the cold’s existence is an ignorant game. A princess should be warm during this time of night.” Once the logs are set, he makes a sign with his upper right hand, bringing his thumb and forefinger together to his mouth. He blows, and a string of fire spits out to the logs. The sound of crackling bark from the flames confirms his work. “You are not me; you should fear the cold.”

You nod to his lesson. “Thank you, Lord Ryomen.” 

“There’s no one here. You have the right to refer to me by my first name.” Sukuna straightens himself up. The light from the fire has his face aglow, and the crimson in his eyes flicker while they hook onto you.

You don’t know why — maybe it was because of the instant heat touching your neck instead of the sudden allurement you’ve noted from the demon king. Regardless, you avert your gaze downward. “Yes, Lord Sukuna.”

“Hmm.” He croons, walking towards you to prompt your chin up with a hand. Your eyes widen at his action; this is the first time in forever since he’s laid a hand on you. Talks of those he touches die shortly after spark in your mind. “You still have the sword.”

It wasn’t a question – an observation. He noticed the weapon lodged above the fireplace, like a memento meant to be honored rather than used. You smile, “Yes, I make sure it’s nice and clean from dust.” 

Sukuna scoffs. “I give you a present, and you treat it like a trophy.” 

“It would be wise to treat a gift from the demon king like a treasure. It wouldn’t sit right with me knowing I used or damaged a present given to me by someone I care about.” 

He tilted his head again. “And when I give a weapon to someone I wish to protect,” The word caught you off guard. Protect? “I expect them to use it as it’s intended. I will allow it this time, but I won’t be too forgiving the second. Understood?”

You heard him, but your mind was still wrapped around the word. Protect? Lord Sukuna wants to protect me? What for?? You didn’t mean to say it aloud; it just slipped. “Protect?”

His mood shifts into neutral. A subtle softness is displayed in that inhuman structure of a face — or maybe you imagined it because of the late hour. Your breath hitches when you feel his lower hands pull and wrap around your right hand; the way your palm dwarfs in his hold is appalling. And then he kneels. Sukuna, the eight-foot-tall demon king, kneeling before you. This was a bizarre night, candidly. 

“Princess,” he starts with your name. It was the perfect method as he fully has your undivided attention. “You know why the King has wished to see me despite what’s occurring outside these chambers. He believes there is still room to talk, and I believe he's wasting his time because I'm close to setting the entire Northern front ablaze and nailing this score for good.” 

You knew he meant that, and it scared you because if he really could, he would. He actually possesses the mentality and the drive to do it. And yet, all three parts of the continent continue to stand. Why?

“But that would result in more problems for me. I’d have the entire world after my head for terrorism. All the leaders will not rest until I’m gone — your father would have to come put me down. And I would kill him, all of them.” His eyes were on you, dead serious. “…But that would make you upset, and it pisses me off that you'd hate me for my drive for survival.” 

“My Lord,” it was your turn to speak. “I wouldn’t hate you. Being upset would be justified. But when it comes to war, survival is the paramount destination. I only wish to avoid such significant losses – both for the people of our nations and the people I hold dear.” 

“Mmm.” He took your words. There’s no need to say anything, knowing Sukuna heard your piece is good enough. “I can see where you stand in this, stubborn and naive like your father. So, I come to you with a proposition. Something I need for you to listen before I consider seizing this battle.”

The way he spoke had you on edge, truthfully. Yet, if he’s coming to you in the middle of the night to hear your piece, who are you as a friend to push him aside? You give him a nod, “Yes, my Lord?” 

“Princess, I want to—“ he stops mid-sentence, his pink-slitted brow suddenly drew up before it furrowed at the next second. He lets go of your hand in a hurry, standing up in a flash. It had you squeak. “He’s here.”

The sudden change in tone had you blink up at the giant, startled. “Wh–Who?”

“….No, they will not be seeing you. The hour is late; they are heading for bed!”

“Oh, c’mon Utahime — an hour, give me one hour!”

“Don’t you DARE open that door—HEY!” 

You and Sukuna’s eyes dart to your chamber door, which opens with an abrupt vigor as if it was kicked open — it was kicked. The foot that was prominent at the front goes down and swings in a figure that brightens the area. Baggy white paints contrast with a black dress shirt mixed with white, intricate, and alluring designs. Subtle blue patterns map around the black collar and cuffs, dancing down the white material behind gold buttons. It’s covered by an ocean-blue shawl that drapes the figure’s left side. But the most significant detail that gave away who the person was – outside of their voice alone – was the snow-shite hair that decorated the top of his head. 

Your wide eyes take in the person before you, and a dainty smile comes to your lips when you say his name. Unlike Sukuna, who sucks his teeth with a deep scowl. “Lord Gojo, it’s—“

“PRINCESS~~!” Chipper as ever, Gojo greets you with a happy tune that is so familiar to the ears. His sky-blue eyes gleam and narrow whenever he’s in your presence, just like he’d do during your childhood years. “Glad to see that I’ll be able to see your beautiful face tonight, after all. And I thought I told you to call me by my first name, like when we were kids!”

His jest has you giggle, “And I thought I’d told you from the last visit to knock on my door before entering. You have my poor handmaiden chasing after you at this hour.” 

“I second that notion wholeheartedly, my Lady.” Utahime comes into view, approaching from Gojo’s shadow. If looks could kill, she’d stab Gojo’s throat with dual-wielding daggers. Not that the white-haired man was paying her glare any mind. She sighs heavily before bowing to you, “My apologies, my Lady. Lord Gojo caught me leaving the stairs towards your hall, figuring he’d come to speak a word with—Holy Tengen!” Your lady-in-waiting gasps when she lifts her head to see that you aren’t alone in the first place. “L-Lord Ryomen!? F-F-Forgive me for not noticing your grace before.” She quickly returns her head for a bow, hoping the trusty, short right-hand retainer and advisor, Uraume, wasn’t here to lecture her. 

But thankfully to her anxious stars, the demon king grunts, “You’ve been forgiven, human. I came here not too long ago to discuss matters with the heir.” His red eyes leave the bowing woman to look at Gojo, whose lighthearted cadence is stilled. “Alone.” The final word was all for the white-haired lord’s watch to switch to a silent, menacing tone, shaded by his bangs but perfectly seen by Sukuna. 

“Yes, my Lord, I shall leave you two to yourselves then,” Utahime replies to the salmon-haired creature, lifting her upper body ready for dismissal. But she then grabs for Gojo’s arm and tugs. “That includes you as well, Lord Gojo.” 

“Ehhhh, me? What about the giant freak across from me?” Gojo questions the woman who pulls him to the doorway. “I also have things to discuss with the princess I’ve expressed earlier for when I have the time, which is now. At least I made my appointment known. Unlike him, who came into their quarters unannounced.” 

“And here you are, barging into their room!” she almost popped a vein; you worry for the poor woman dragging the tall figure out of your room. “Kicking their door and making yourself known doesn’t modify the definition of being unannounced. Come back tomorrow – I’m sure my Lady will be available to listen to your quarrels then.” 

It was now that you finally decided to interject. “It’s all right, Utahime. Sleep still evades me for me to rest.” You look to Sukuna, his gaze already on your figure, and then to Gojo, who awaits your assertion. “…I will listen to both Lords and have them dismissed before I retire for the night. You may let Lord Gojo go now and get sleep yourself.” 

Utahime gives you a concerned look, yet she silently lets go of the man when you give her a tiny nod. “As you wish. Have a good night, my princess. Lord Sukuna. Gojo.” She slams the door at the last name she says, her stomping footsteps and grumbling curses fading into the night. 

And now here you were, alone in your room, with the two lords of two superpower empires – two childhood friends. Nevertheless, it’s back. The suffocating tension you’ve mentioned before returns and drapes over the three of you that the word “friend” feels teeny within it. You can’t lie to yourself; you’re weary to have either of them in your chambers, let alone be in the same space as you. You knew there would be a day when the two would come together; however, you were far from being prepared for said event. 

Then again, it’s better now than never, right? You three used to be the best of friends – close companions that you could depend on and trust. Close companions that you desperately wish to continue trusting and having an unbreakable bond with. If not for you, then for your father’s and respective empires’ sake. So, with a deep breath, you exhale and think of how to go about this predicament. Be the heir that your father raised you to be.

“So,” You turn to Gojo to start with. “Lord Gojo—“

“Oh, c’mooon, what did I say about using my last name?” Gojo flashes a quick smile at you. “We’re friends, no? It’s not fair you refer to Maiden Iori by her first name; you should know mine like the back of your hand!”

His little pester does help swade a bit of stress off your shoulders. “My apologies, Satoru. It’s just that I must be respectful to my royals, even if we are long-time friends.”

The white-haired man chuckles, taking steps to be closer to you. “Even so, I want my princess to call me by my name, for you are the one I trust and hold dear the most. And I don’t want our familiarity to be tarnished by titles.” 

“…If that’s what will make you happy, Satoru.” The address to the northern prince made you avert your gaze to the ground, and your cheeks dial in warmth. Who knew that he thought so deeply about a little gesture? And then there’s what he referred to you as—

“Your princess?” Sukuna’s voice snaps you back to the present situation: you and Gojo are not the only ones in your room.  

Gojo takes his eyes off you and places them on the giant behind your shape. He taunts, “Yes, my princess, as they are the fair heir of this great empire who will rule after their great father. I’d say they are as much my princess to me as the other Lords and Maidens. But I’d be lying since I see them as more than that.”

Sukuna’s quadruple eyes darken as they narrow at the man before him. “Every time I see your scrawny self, you prove you’re the biggest fool than all the other senile jokes of Lords I’ve ever dealt with.” Two steps is all he takes to be right behind you. You can practically feel his shadow on you. “The person before us is indeed a royal above many – above you. So, I find it amusing that you would be dumb enough to emphasize such a ludicrous claim. You fail to know your place when in their presence. And in mine.”

Oh, that ticked something inside Gojo. Because the prince was no longer smiling, his attention was wholly on Sukuna. Many wouldn’t dare to glower at the giant creature the way Gojo was — let alone look at him. “Hah, you sure know how to make unfunny jokes, Sukuna. Because I’d rather eat demon shit than have you think for a moment that you are above me.”

“Hmph, I’m surprised your childish behavior has gotten you this far,” you can see from the shadow on the floor that Sukuna folds his lower arms. “Don’t think that you’ll be lucky with me.”

“Oh, believe me, my childish manner has gotten its fair share of tongue lashings and trouble, but I’ve been able to talk my ass out of shit ever since I was a kid. But I guess talk is too cheap for an oversized brute like you, huh?”

“Very. I’m a being of action—“

“Action? Or destruction?” The light blue of Gojo’s eyes shifts to that of a deep, cold shade under his bangs, with no sign of backing down. “Because from all I’ve heard about you, everything can crumble beneath you with just a swipe of the fingers. Outside of your lands, who’s to say you’re worthy of ruling when your methods and policy are more forbidding than mine? Or better yet, who gave you the gall to think that such a monster like you has a right to even be amongst civil people like me and the princess? Hell, the fact that you snuck in their room as you please sickens me to the core.”

“I can say the same for you, Satoru Gojo. Your entire occupancy does worse than bore me. Standing here with the man governing the family who’s killed many of my kin and demons fills me with inextinguishable anger. You have no idea how much excitement I’ll have for the day I cut that head of yours clean off, but because of my business with the princess, your death will be pending.” 

“Not if my business is taken care of first.”

The demon growls. “Like hell, it will.” 

“My Lords, please!”

The tense atmosphere is relieved by the abruption of your voice, bringing the lords’ quarrel to a standstill to face you. You squeak when their eyes land on you, forcing yourself to turn to the fireplace and deal with the growing storm of anxiousness inside you. 

Gods, I should’ve had Utahime here with me! You curse yourself for being in this situation. Why tonight of all nights must you deal with this? It was as if your lady-in-waiting had this all planned — or worse, your father, having you treat the matter of your allies. You groan internally to your hands, letting your frustration be released.

You twirl back to face the two men before you, a deep inhale before saying, “Lord Satoru, what would you like to discuss with me at this hour?”

“Hah?” The disapproving mood of the demon king had your heart sink to the floor. “I was here first.”

“Yes, you came to my room first tonight. But Gojo was here first at the palace. He told me earlier that he wanted to speak, so I should hear him.” You could only hope your reasoning satisfied the tall being, who puffs his tattooed chest. And Gojo quickly flashed the other a vexatious look at Sukuna before you pivoted to him. “Now, Lord Go—“

“Aht aht!”

“…Lord Satoru,” He beams a big grin. “What do you wish to speak with me?”

“Well, although this is something meant for the two of us,” meant to be a stab to the other person in the room, who couldn’t care less about his presence being unwanted. “But this’ll suffice; it doesn’t hurt to have an audience.” You watch the silver-haired man take your left hand, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing on your knuckles. 

“My Lady,” he looks at you with delicate azure eyes, his gaze so captivating that it locks you in position. “I’ve known you for quite a long time. Before I met you, my life as a royal was barren. Nothing sparked joy in me. The mundane tasks to uphold as the next heir, being pampered and sheltered as the gifted member of the Gojo House. I felt trapped in a mold — a mold that I resented having as my birthright, so much so that I wished to claw my eyes out at the age of five.” 

You could tell he was speaking from the heart, his hands gripping yours tighter.

“But then, three years later, my father took me to meet the King of the western lands; at the time, it sounded like such a chore having to meet all these old, disgusting guys that I had to ‘maintain a good relationship’ with. And then, like the sun peeking through dark clouds, I saw you. I’ve met many royal kids before me, most snobby or kissing up to me for my good graces. Yet, none of them have been as alluring and breathtaking as you have been.” He pauses for a light chuckle. “I can still remember how your sweet voice addressed me when our fathers introduced us together. You stood tight to his leg, but your grace was ever present.”

“Mhmm, and I recall how angry your father was when you didn’t take a knee and instead greeted me with a handshake.” The two of you share a laugh, unaware of the disdained aura of Sukuna right next to you for a moment. “There are many things I hold close to my heart — you and our friendship being part of them.”

“I agree. I mean it when I regard you as one of my greatest treasures. This friendship we’ve had these years – decades, even – has been a blessing that I do not want to take for granted. Even with this war on my shoulders, I wish for it to be put to rest so I can finally have you by my side again. And that’s why…” 

Gojo lifts your hand to his face; the soft feeling of his pillowy lips on your fingers has you holding your breath. Just like Sukuna…

“Princess, merciful child of Tengen’s Blessed Ground, I ask for your hand in marriage.” 

It all took one second — one mere second. 

One second for your world to come to a complete standstill, the cracking of the firewood no longer poking your eardrums and the breeze from the outside no longer grazing your skin. Your body instinctively refuses to move so much as a toe to disrupt your processing.

One second for your thoughts to absolutely vanish. No words of your own occupying your brain, no guesses on where this conversation was going. There was nothing. Nothing except the last seven words Gojo said that replay in your head. Over and over and over again.

One second for you to be in a perfect state of perplexity. Right before Sukuna grabs your free hand and yanks you to his side the next. Three giant hands wrap around you while one grips your wrist tightly. 

He snarls, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Gojo sucks his teeth before straightening yourself. “Ehhhh, is your demon brain screwed on right? You don’t know what a marriage proposal is?” His question struck you more than it did the beast. Huh? A marriage proposal? Marriage!?

The fingers of Sukuna’s upper left-hand grips your shoulder, claw-like nails poking your skin as if to draw blood. “Hmph, the nerve of you humans never fails to disappoint me. Especially you, Satoru Gojo, who remains a thorn in my foot. Must I kill more of your men to keep you at your place as you did to my demonfolk?”

“Khh, don’t act like you ever cared about the lives sacrificed on your behalf. It’s gross.” Gojo takes one step, and Sukuna swiftly lifts his upper right hand at him, his fingers positioned at the same sign when he made flames for your fireplace. Your eyes widen, please, not in my room! Gojo takes a stance for battle. “Acting human doesn’t suit you at all, fuckface.” 

The roar of laughter that the demon bellows out was chilling to hear. The vibrations coursing from his body to yours rocked you to your core. “Hah! Me, human!? There’s a reason I let go of that part of myself a long time ago. It made me weak – held me back from my full potential. You are right, though; it’s beneath me to care for those below me. However, I don’t tolerate those that mess with what’s mine.” 

The word had Gojo’s eyes taper. “Let them go.”

“No. If anything, I should skin you here and now for even laying a finger on them in front of me.” You peered up at Sukuna, your anxiousness refusing to settle down during this high-stakes scenario. “Because any man that dares touch my wedded deserves to be torn and shredded by my hands alone.” 

You couldn’t hide your gasp. It snuck past you – the perfect reaction to what you heard. H–His wedded? Me? Lord Sukuna’s wedded-to-be!? No wonder he was acting like that…!

“Your wedded?” Gojo was just as taken aback as you were. “You’ve got some huge balls to declare that right after bearing witness to me proclaiming my request for their hand.” 

“Tch, bastard, why do you think I was here before you?” Sukuna flashes his big teeth, pride exuding from his form. “Did you honestly think I’d allow the princess to end up with the likes of you? Now, aren’t you too old for fairy tales?” You’re still in shock of this madness. Two marriage proposals within the same hour? Both from your childhood friends who unequivocally despise each other’s existence? Any regular person would feel as if they’re experiencing a whirlwind right now. 

Wait a minute…

“Oh, we’re talking fairy tales, you repugnant jackass.” It’s Gojo’s turn to get a kick out of this. “From what I can tell, the princess is meant to spend the rest of their life in comfort with a handsome human prince who swears to protect them and those they care for. Not a creature whose source of joy comes from killing and mayhem. You? Capable of love? Heh, be real. Not even your own dead mother was able to show you real love for her abomination of a—“

He stopped talking when he felt something warm roll down his cheek, a red fluid streaking to drop from his chin. You see a cut and blood, and a wave of dread hits you like a wall. It was Sukuna’s doing, no doubt. Your best friends were fighting in front of you, in your safe space. Your nerves have long forgotten what it meant to be in a state of calm. 

Please, wait, stop—

“I already told you your death has been postponed, you northern shit,” red eyes darken, Sukuna's tone and aura unveiling a sense of brutality that shadowed your very being. It had you trembling. “But I don’t mind severing your tongue to make a point.”

The skin around the cut on Gojo’s skin begins to morph to find each other, seaming itself back to mint condition with a blue glow. Healing magic fixed his cut and cleared his blood, but the anger boiling inside him was prevalent in those striking eyes. Wanting nothing more than a bleeding head between his hands. “I’d like to see you try, you ugly prune.” 

NO, STOP IT!!

This was all too much for a single night. This whole ordeal was far from your expectations. It was already stressful enough thinking about what would happen when the two lords were in this palace together. Now, in your quarters, you’ve never experienced a more life-and-death crisis having your friends — companions you used to laugh and engage with together — wanting to rip each other’s throats, especially for your hand in marriage. And, Tengen forbid, if you were to accept one’s proposal over the other…that would ignite a war above all wars. The bodies that fall on this mainland would all be in your undoing. The thought enough was too much to bear! 

“I accept both!!”

The hostile complexion of the room vanished into the air in the blink of an eye. The sound of burning logs and dancing flames filled the space like before; the crashing ocean waves could be heard from your balcony. Nature was speaking without noises to interrupt it. It was quiet, too quiet. 

You didn’t know what you just said until the last morphemes left your tongue. You silently remove your figure from Sukuna, covering your mouth in disbelief. And without having to see for yourself, you could tell that the two lords were just as flummoxed from your sudden sentence. What…What did I say just now?

“What did you just say?” As if he could read your mind, Sukuna relays your inner turmoil to be addressed. 

Your heart was beating at an unbearable rate, your ears ringing like they’d soon set off and bleed. The trembles get worse with every second, and wiping your face off this Earth at this exact moment is all you wish for. You were so nervous that you were mere seconds away from the brink of tears. Oh, Tengen, why did I say that? What was I thinking?!? What am I to do? What do I—

“…Express to them how you feel, that you wish for nothing but an end to this bloodshed and to restore whatever’s left to rebuild their past alliance…” 

And then, like a strange flash of an angelic tune, the words of your lady-in-waiting come back to you, instantly calming you down and reminding you who you are. You are the princess of the Western Front, the next heir after your father. This matter was bound to fall onto your lap one way or another — preferably less drastically and excitingly like this.

I am the princess, but their friend above all else…You remove your hands from your face, exhaling a shaky breath before standing tall. “….I accept both marriage proposals of my Lords.”

The men’s bewildered expressions were expected, just like the dismay in their voices. “Both of our—…! Surely you don’t mean that—” Gojo was the first to speak, silver brows screwed with confusion. 

“I do.” A deep breath before you answered him. “I will only accept the proposals of both you and Lord Sukuna.”

The demon took one thunderous step, the vibrations crawling up your bones. “And just why is that?”

You exhale through your nostrils, chewing on your bottom lip. “Understand that I am humbly flattered by your perspectives — it fills me with gladness to know I can be hospitable to my dear friends again…As you both mentioned, I, too, cherish the two of you profoundly, and my trust for you two will never be extinguished. To be asked for my hand by either of you is an honor I’ll forever appreciate….But I cannot choose one over the other.”

“Bullshit,” Sukuna folds his upper arms, the lower resting on his hips. “You can; you just choose not to.”

“No, I care for you both, and choosing one alone would have people hurt. Both between us three and the people of this continent…” You maintain eye contact with both lords while your hands fidget with your nightgown to ease yourself. “A rivalry is happening between the Eastern and Northern fronts; blood’s already been spilled and soaking Tengen’s soil. If I were to choose one proposal, I can’t be guaranteed that this onslaught of violence will cease. Or, would either of you guarantee that you wouldn’t take the life of the other?”

That question had the two royals look at each other briefly, followed by their scowls and groans. Gojo is the next to speak, “What happens between us shouldn’t concern you, my princess.”

“You’re wrong; it concerns me tremendously. It is a concern that’s been eating me alive, watching my allies – my friends – fight each other on the sidelines, refusing to pick a side with my father. Now, you two come here, bend your knees, hold my hands, and ask for my hand, silently requesting my involvement for more bodies to drop like flies under my reign?… No, I would not find rest from this night forward, knowing that more innocent lives plummet from my answer.”

“It wouldn’t be blood on your hands.”

“…But it would be blood that I paint with my very shadow.”

The response sounded foreign to him, yet you stood tall, making sure your heart didn’t falter with your stance. Silence welcomes the three figures again, an old friend that goes well with the tense atmosphere. Two pairs of red observe you, like cerulean orbs that stay on your appearance.

A few seconds go by, and Gojo screws his eyes shut. “So, that’s it, you accept both proposals.”

A curt nod. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Your final decision?”

“Correct.”

The snow-haired man nodded aimlessly, slouched with a large sigh, turned, and headed for your bed to flop face down — like it was his bed. “Haaaaaah, you are your father’s kid, all right,” you could make out his words even with his face in your sheets. “A pacifist heart.”

“Hmph, such a dumbass reason,” Sukuna huffs with absolute annoyance, and you’re amazed he hasn’t already skinned you and Gojo. “You are not a child anymore. You can’t possibly be serious about taking up two husbands for the sake of peace.”

“You’re right: I am no child, for I’ve never been as serious as I am now.” Look at you, sticking up for yourself in the presence of the demon king. Although, you know he can hear the quiver in your voice trying to crawl out. You swallow, “It’s either both of you or nothing at all.”

His left eyes squint as they examine your features, the mouth on his belly gritting its teeth. “Tsk, both or nothing…Meanwhile, you know I can’t be in the same room with him. Not even Tengen could command me to share you with this brat.”

Gojo swifts on the covers to lie on his back. “Finally, something I can agree with the devil himself. He’s right, though; there are many things in my life I would rather not share with anyone — you being the top of my list.”

You take their concerns with patience and a lifted chin. “I understand you both, but if you two can’t let the fog clear and talk with each other, how can I see myself—“

“Let the fog clear?” Sukuna repeats with furrowed eyebrows. “Sorcerers came into my land and ransacked my villages — sorcerers from this bastard’s empire!” 

“An action that validates your anger and course of action,” you remind yourself to take tiny breaths. “…However, Satoru didn’t order the attack himself; they went against procedure and stormed your country with poor judgment.”

The tall demon rolls all of his eyes and clicks his teeth. “Ridiculous.”

“No, what’s ‘ridiculous’ is how you fail to acknowledge why those sorcerers went to your zone.” Gojo’s turn to interpolate. “One of the noble sorcerers and his company died because of your demon folk invading my country without permitted passage. That noble had a family, students that followed his footsteps—“

“Are you saying my people didn’t have kin of their own to return to, Gojo Satoru?”

“Your people sure kill like they don’t—“ Another swipe of Sukuna’s fingers glid the air; this time, Gojo’s Infinity was on guard, ricocheting the cleave to mark a scratch on one of the curtains. “Hah, just like their leader.”

Sukuna flexes his knuckles to crack, black fingernails appearing sharper. “The demons who killed that sorcerer acted on their own accord. Just like the many men of your land who came to mine, whom I corrected for your lack of oversight.”

“Then allow me to fulfill my mistake,” the silver-haired man’s eyes glow. “And let me kill the demons responsible — just like you did to my men, fucking cretin.”

“Over my dead body, human trash.”

“My Lords!” The men concurrently exchange their gazes back to you. “This is why I will not be accepting either proposal solely. You come to my home to ask for my hand because you see me as of value, correct? Well, you both are people I care deeply for, and the thought of walking beside either of you for eternity is something I’d accept unmistakably under different circumstances…But, please acknowledge my position in all of this: I am the princess of an extraordinary continent and heir to the throne after my father, a man who has maintained peace and harmony all these years. Now, that peace is hanging on the brink of death and will soon be a matter I should issue alone, and the men who’ve grown with me and cherish me combating each other until one stands tall….or none stand at all.”

Word spilled after another as if a dam had broken down — fingers jitter even when clasped together. Your throat dries up after every sentence, yet your unwavering resilience pushes you to keep going.

“I’m sorry if what I’m saying or doing is selfish, and…you may be right that I’m going at it with the whims of a child. But, please,” Do not cry, do NOT cry. “Standing idly every passing day watching the men I’ve grown to—“ Love? Isn’t that too intimate of a word to assume? “…treasure kill themselves and others without doing anything wounds me enough. And if you think I can sit here in this palace and watch my intended go far and yonder to kill another person whom I cherish with no guarantee that they will return to me wholly, think twice.”

Your shoulders threaten to tremble; of course, you’re frightened beyond belief by what you’re saying. But you’re sure if she was here, Utahime would pull you in for a hug and acclaim how well you’re following her counsel.

“Please, I just…can’t bear it.”

Uncomfortable muteness gnaws you alive within the muteness of your room. You’re bound to draw blood on your bottom lip with how much you’re chewing it. If only your father were awake in this hour, his guidance at a moment like this would be beneficial, or merely observing from afar how you’re managing would give you some hope. Alas, you know he’s in deep sleep halls away. It’s just the three of you in this space — or just you versus the huge opposing auras thick enough to be slit by Sukuna’s cleaves. 

Speaking of whom, the demon king watches you the entire speech. Same with Gojo, whose blue eyes dwindle back to their typical hue. The two men don’t dare break the silence as you stand before them, mentally swimming in thoughts alone to yourself….Well, at least the northern prince wouldn’t dare to do so first because Sukuna initially ripped the stillness to shreds. He says, “And how would your father respond to this feckless plan of accepting two marriage proposals?”

A worthy question to ponder. “…I’m sure he’d come to an understanding once I explain my reasoning,” the belly of the eastern king grumbles. “I’m sure he’d be contended at the fact that his two trusted allies would want to join houses.”

Gojo sits up straight atop your bed. “Well, that sounds all nice and dandy on that front. But, the problem still lies in us acting like…a ‘real couple.’ Face it, princess; you may seem okay with being with us both, but that doesn’t mean we’d be on the same page.”

Sukuna nods curtly. “I’d rather eat every human alive than entertain the thought of someone other than me touching you.” 

The other shrugs. “Even if the world’s fate depends on it.”

The men’s grievances are valid arguments for why your plan can backfire, particularly when suggesting a relationship where two people can’t stand each other. What you’re posing is an action that has been practiced before yet isn’t entirely favored in the public eye. Nevertheless, your stance doesn’t change; you refuse to go back on your word, believing that it’s a better alternative to condone than the others. The only tricky part is convincing your childhood friends…

…Which is why what you’re about to do is indubitably unlike you. 

“…What are you doing?"

But despite that, it’s a course of action that highlights your determination.

“—Woah!! Princess?! Why are you undressing??!”

Even if it’ll go down as the most downright humiliating thing you’ve done to yourself.

Your nightgown meets the ground of your feet, the cool air wrapping your nude frame with the heat of the fireplace hovering on one side. Arms free of sleeves, nipples easily spotted now with the dismissal of clothing, the region between your lower thighs bare, and delicate skin exposed for only the men in the room to see. And even then, your face doesn’t decline the miserable hotness. Embarrassed? No doubt about it.

“My Lords,” you croak, balled fists muster to contain whatever left of dignity you can. “This form…isn’t meant for any regular eyes to see — an offering only a slim few I’d trust to witness. Tonight, I want you two to see me like this.” You slowly step forward, gradually getting closer to Sukuna’s giant size. “As your princess, I offer my whole to you both, as you are mine…and I am yours.”

Sukuna blinks at your small figure close to his; the intensity of his stare is enough to have your heart sink into a pool of regret. Until he bends to scoop you with his lower arms, you yelp at the sudden action with hands finding his sturdy shoulders to grab. Now, he is way closer than you anticipated, his very chin inches away from brushing your naked chest. Holy shit.

“You are mine, and I am yours?” he lifts his eyebrow. “Was that not true already?” You gulp thickly before answering, daring to cup his cheek with a hesitant hand. Again, you’re surprised to see it still attached, let alone see him lean to your palm. 

“You’d have to prove it true — here and now, make this ceaseless battle end by claiming me as yours…You too, Gojo.” You and the demon holding you turn to the man sitting on your bed. The pale skin of his face now harbors shades of pink that cascade across his cheeks and the dip of his ears, expression dumbfounded to what he witnessed. “Demonstrate how serious you are for my hand, or you and Sukuna can leave my room.”

Sky-blue eyes blink absentmindedly, words hard to pick and choose for the human prince in this bizarre minute. Sukuna then speaks with a huff.

“Well, are you going to start moving or what? Because whether you stay or not, your princess will become mine tonight.” He grins before leaning in to lick your skin, and you hold a whine when the mouth of his navel lightly chews on your tummy. “And on the many nights coming after.”

The beast’s words flip a switch, causing Gojo to chuckle and shake his head while unbuttoning his shirt. “Not if I have something to do about it, four-eyes…”

You drew in breath while watching Gojo undress, more of his milky skin stripped out of his clothing, revealing parts of the prince that you could only imagine in your fantasies. Heat flourishes to your ears, and another gasp is pulled out when Sukuna sneaks his free lower hand to cusp your buttcheek. He then brings an upper hand to your chin to face him and his sneer. 

“You’ve made this night a whole lot more interesting.”

And that was the last time the sound of the fire cracking caught your attention.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Mmmm…Ahh—Ahhh!!”

“Keh, sure are tight as hell; definitely a virgin.”

“Fuck, I can hear the sounds from here…Oh, fuuck…!”

The sea breeze climbs up to your terrace, crawling into your room to swing the curtains of your canopy. The candles around your room continue to flame and provide light for the room to glow. The scent of lavender and rose from your bath and lotion an hour earlier remains in the air and sticks to your skin. The midnight hour isn’t yet, but the sky is dark enough past the twilight hues. 

Expected as the former home of the Great Saint Tengen, the palace is as enormous. Harboring many rooms, halls, and floors for the company of the royal family and their subjects, the castle is unchallenging for a newcomer to get lost inside without a proper guide. Every room is catered to a specific event, person, meeting, or occasion in this place. On top of that, multiple guest chambers are meant for the guests invited under the King’s audience to rest.

…But it seems that Gojo and Sukuna are not retiring for the night anytime soon.

How could they sleep when you’re being a courteous host, letting your childhood friends spend the late hours in your room? Just like when you were young and playmates or learning to master a weapon. The only thing is that these two aren’t the same as two decades ago; they are men, branded with titles and responsibilities, blood already stained their knuckles, and duties hold them to a high expectation that you know all too well. 

And, like all men, they have a salacious curiosity only appropriate for the bedroom. An interest you knew would one day be prevalent in your life if you agreed to take either as a husband…Yet, you’re not as prepared on the chance you’d face both realities simultaneously. 

All three of you are stationed in your bed, clothes decorating your floor to leave you all bare for each other to see and marvel at — more so on your part. You lie on your back to a giant broad chest and stomach, Sukuna right behind you with his lower arms holding your feet by the back of your knees. Knees spread apart, your naked lower half is out, free for the monster to insert a single thick digit of his left upper hand into your wet chasm while the right fondles your left tit.

Never in your life did you think you were capable of producing such indecent noises. Low whimpers are embarrassing to recollect as the demon king plays with your most tender parts. His big fingers tweak your nipple, and the digit – way thicker than yours – inside your cunt is enough to stretch your opening, wiggling and scratching the inside. Fingering yourself never felt like this, your body experiencing a refreshing sensation you hadn’t known of. And to have the eastern king of all people to bestow this feeling on you brings just as much awe as humiliation.

Nonetheless, that indignity doesn’t cease. Gojo stands on his knees before you, propped between your sunder legs, while his hand strokes an erect limb. Yes, as a virgin maiden, tonight would be the very first time you ever see a living, breathing member, and the northern lord takes that honor with a lustful smile. His solid cock gets stiffer with every jerk, a left curve protruding the more your appearance excites him. To be observed and used as material as your slit is fingered? How lewd!

“Nnnn, ahaahn…” Sukuna’s finger rubs on your velvety surface, your legs wanting to squirm despite the monster’s hold. “Oh Gods…Ohhh!!”

“Damn, you look so good,” Gojo mutters under his breath, precum drizzling his fingertips. “Looks like it feels good, huh, princess?”

“Sure feels like it,” every word that Sukuna utters causes tremors to pass down his abdomen to your back, the very vibrations crawling on your skin like the tongue that licks your back to make you arch. “Hm? Tell us how you really feel, little one.”

The usage of that name causes your vaginal walls to twitch; he has never called you as such, and picking such an intimate time to do so makes your frame feel awkward and warm. “…I-I—fffmm!—don’t know…”

“Hmph, you dare lie to me,” he bends to your ear, and his deep chuckle ignites your stomach to knot itself. “Like your body doesn’t speak for itself, clenching on my finger like you want to snap it off.”

“Th-that’s not—“The graze of your upper wall cuts you off, and your hands struggle to find places to grab, gripping the skin of Sukuna’s thigh and grabbing tuffs of his apricot hair. 

The demon king snickers more when his middle finger teases your taint, pressing a kiss on your cheek before a quick bite. “Only one finger in, and you’re already wailing like a common whore; be lucky that I haven’t added another, then you’d really be prepared for me…” You feel something brush up against your back, the tips of Sukuna’s cocks reminding you of his eventual promise.

“Wooow, calling the future heir a whore; must’ve forgotten whose room we’re in.” The white-headed man had something to say about that, satisfyingly ruining the mood for the demonic being. 

“They don’t seem to mind, at least their cunt doesn’t,” uncouth cords that speak truth, your vulva squeezing his finger constantly. “Who would’ve thought the beautiful, refined, and compassionate princess,” each enunciated word has consequences that are a lick and bite to your helix. “Was, in fact, a dirty, nasty girl?”

“Holy shit,” Gojo’s hand goes faster, his dick ready with stiffness. The image of you melting under the Fallen Star’s hold is too hot for the young man to witness. “God, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby…”

Sukuna clicks his teeth. “Well, hurry the hell up and do it before I change my mind and fuck them myself.”

“And have them bleeding to death because of your giant dicks on their first time? Fuck that,” He ignores the four rolled eyes as he maneuvers closer to you, Sukuna pulling his finger out of your wet slit and slithering further down to your anus. He coaxes you to relax your tense muscles, pushing his digit into your puckered hole second by second. The gasp you release once it’s added sends shivers up Gojo’s shoulders. “A princess should be treated like a pearl – tended to with the utmost care.”

“Go–jooo…” You whine as the human heir cups your cheeks to squeeze.

“What did I say about using my family name?” He scolds with a cheeky tune, gauging your reaction as he disposes his cockhead to the folds of your vagina. 

“…S-Sa—Mmmph!” The push of his pink tip is a new sensation.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” He coos, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Relax, just focus on me.” Your eyes lock with his, distracted by the twinkle and swirl of his azure irises, like a whirlpool sinking into the darkness of his dilated pupil. “What’s my name, cutie?”

“Saaa…Sato—Ohhh!!” And just like that, the tip of his limb enters inside, bypassing your knowledge until the wince of pain snaps you out of your distraction. “…to’ruu…”

His teeth glisten under her grin. “That’s my good girl.”

Gojo keeps propelling himself inside you, gradually shoving every inch of his lengthy girth. You bite your quivering lip at the stretch of your opening, accommodating the foreign body part burrowing inside your inner channel. The left curve of his has his penis rubbing on parts of yourself you hadn’t thought possible; a graze of your G-spot causes your legs to quirk and toes to curl. 

But then, once his silverish pubes meet your outer labia, he reaches the depth of your cervix and gives it a chaste kiss. And your frame suddenly shuts down briefly, your senses running cold before you cry aloud without knowing. Your hands rush to cover your mouth, but the damage is too late.

Sukuna raises a brow. “What a shout.” He then uses your reaction to add another digit into your ass.

“Ahhhh, there it is,” Gojo swallows thickly, hips speaking for themselves as they sway. “That was cute as hell–the way you twitch feels so good…” Another poke to your cervix, and your legs can’t help but wrap around Gojo’s waist.

“Satoru, please…!” You plead with knitted eyebrows. “Pleasee, be gentle with me…”

Blue eyes narrow. “God, who told you to be so adorable?” Gojo angles down to your face, his nose mere centimeters to yours. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll treat you right tonight…Hmmm.”

The man leans in to place his lips on your forehead before his own, and the pace of his thrusts quickens to mediocrity. The rubs on your silky texture become frequent, lightly pounding his shaft into your to till his testes knock your chasm, the whimpers you try to repress boost to a louder volume. His left curve spikes up your nerves with every push and pull, easing the itching heat that permeates around your lower half. 

Hands writhe around to calm around Gojo’s cold back; you say his name in prayers. You can feel something coming, and if he keeps rutting to you like this, it’s bound to come earlier than expected. “—Nnaaa, Sat’ruuu, w-wait!! I can’t—Ahaann!!”

“—Mmmm! Yeah, just like that, princess, keep gripping on me like that…” He doesn’t listen, too lost in your warmth and wetness that he can’t stop. The flex of his abs increases, plunging into your pussylips desperately as if he can sense the eventual you fear. 

“T-Toruu, wait, go slooww!!” Words mean nothing, hips not declining in their needing cadence. Oh Gods, I can feel it; it’s coming! Nerves climb to a peak way too fast for your comprehension, nails digging into Gojo’s skin before your orgasm hits you, choked squeaks leaving puffy lips as your cunt contracts around the prince’s girth and your asshole clamping around Sukuna’s fingers.

And Gojo is right there experiencing your climax with you, moaning under his breath and pressing his forehead to yours before he completely melts under the fluttering motions of your genitalia. “—Mmfff, ffffshit, so tight…!” He can’t stop thrusting into you, moving his pelvis slowly to draw out the sensation before he sinks into a crescendo of his own. “Fuuck! Yeah, cutie, that’s right; ride it out,” he snaps an abrupt drill to your aching entrance. “Ride it out…”

Sukuna scoffs lightly before whispering in your ear. “Done already, human?” Patronizing attitude to make you fidget. “Better be ready for me still.”

“Ehhh, but I’m not done here.” The snow-haired man retorts, massaging your waist out of the quakes. 

A thread snaps in the wake of the other’s words, and Sukuna’s lack of patience drives him to push you and Gojo off of him. The two of you roughly position to where you are essentially straddling Gojo, his erection still inside your slick-coated cavern. The devilish man swiftly ends up on his knees before contorting his massive figure to dwarf both humans beneath him.

“Gahhh!! Sukuna, what the fuck w—Mmmph?!?” With the spawn of a mouth, the eastern king shuts the northern man up by slamming his upper left hand onto his mouth for an unexpected kiss. Gojo muffles under the other’s palm, the tongue shoving itself inside.

“Shut up,” Sukuna orders with annoyance. “So damn chatty…And you,” he uses his lower hands to steady your ass, and you stifle a yelp at the contact of something pressing up against the opening of your butt. “Stay still, or I can make it hurt real bad.”

His warning is enough to keep you immobile, following his instructions and stationing your breathing to a steady rhythm. Your hands-on Gojo’s chest ball to fists once Sukuna pushes his tip to your asshole, your mouth forming a permanent ‘o’ shape once he eventually gets the cockhead inside. Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any more extreme, you had forgotten about the taller individual’s well-endowed self: two hefty, girthy limbs that you NEVER, in your wildest dreams, imagine would put inside your body — not even one!

However, tonight was the night that would be put to the test, and at the very least, Sukuna compromised, using one of his members to ravage your interior while the other skims the crevice of your asscheecks. He goes excruciatingly slow; rather than just ramming the entire thing in one go, it’s better. Gods, no, you’d be shedding more tears than you already are. Every inch that’s plunged inside you pushes out shaky breaths, sobbing from the intrusion and bits of drool slowly escaping you.

“Daahhnn, ohmyG—Nnnm!!” It’s finally all in, all swallowed up by the ridge of your bottom. You call to him, “S-Sukunaa…fuull, so fuulll…”

“I bet you are.” He adds more weight, scrunching down, making it worse by caging you under his bow. Sukuna grinds his hips, which evoke sharp cries, “Hmmm, fuck, so tight…”

The salmon-haired behemoth rocks his enormous hips, the propulsion strong enough to rock you and Gojo concurrently. This time, unlike the northern man under you, Sukuna’s movements exude dominance; from his firm grip on your waist to the confident pull of his hips, everything he does is marked with a purpose. You can tell by how his big, weighty balls smack on your sexed union with Gojo.

Speaking of whom, the polar royal subsists in the kiss with Sukuna’s hand. Yet as the seconds turn to a minute, his expression morphs into a less perturbed display. Instead of fighting it, he kisses back with the palm and bucks his hips into you. The action of his cock rubbing on the sweet spots of your vagina while the one carves and churns your butthole and the other glides on your crack grinds your brain to turn into mush. Your nerves have yet to calm down from the prior orgasm, senses overloaded with constant commotion going on in your private parts.

Sukuna’s pushes become quicker and mightier, and the more he ruts, the more your clit grinds onto Gojo’s pelvis, sending shocks straight to your head. There’s no room for rest…! “—Ohhh, hooooh’Kunaaa, Kunaa, pleaseee…!”

“‘Please, please,’ please what?” He mocks you, knowing you’re powerless to reprimand him in this predicament. “Just whining and whining like a bitch in heat; have you no shame, princess?”

“Ohhh, I’m gonna—shtoooop!!” He licks your ear as you moan aloud, steamy tears striking down your hot cheeks. The pace increases, and so does the swipe of your clit and the bump of your womb. “Ohhhfuck, fuck, fuckfuuuuck…!!”

“Kehaha, look at you; the poor princess finally breaks their poised picture,” dark, pleased chuckles seep out of the demon king’s lips, biting onto your shoulder harshly to make you scream. And judging by him licking your added wound, you’re sure he drew blood. 

“Ahhsshh—ohmyGod, ohmyGod!! S’kuna, don’t!!” Desperate pleads slur out. “I’m gonna break; y’re gonna break meee…!!!”

“Good, I want you to be broken,” he sneers as his upper right arm pushes you to face him. “Break for me; think of nothing else other than being mine. Right now, your mind, body, and soul are mine to torment and tear apart. You are my little dove, small and easy to break from now till your dying breath. Am I clear, pet?”

Scared? Of course. The way his scarlet orbs bore holes into your very being had you petrified; he doesn’t need his hellish aura and brawny hands that can snap a tree in half to assimilate fear into your heart. Witnessing the true power of the King of Demons with just his stare, nothing scarier than that…And yet, your anus and chasm can’t stop squeezing like crazy.

“…Yess, my Lord,” you croak, his finger wiping the saliva on his fingertip. “I am your pet from this—nnmm!!—this moment until the…very last.”

Anxiety doesn’t diminish when he broadens a devilish smile, but it transforms into perplexity once he slams his lips onto yours—your first kiss, taken by the eastern King, along with the chastity of your rear hole. And there’s Gojo, who is the very man who has taken claim of your virginity. Two men, your childhood companions, taking your firsts! Tonight, indeed, is marked down as an eventful occasion for you. 

You sink into the passionate kiss, your tiny tongue swirling around with Sukuna’s, his fangs grazing the muscle teasingly before he nibbles on it to hear you shrill for him. All the while, his hips go erratic, motivating Gojo to increase his tempo. The feverish rhythm leaves you breathless, crying in the company of lust and rapture to the point that you’ve become numb. Your vision becomes blurry, your head foggy, and the air between you three misty. Noises of skin smacking onto each is all you hear, drowning you further into another spazz you couldn’t adequately foretell.

Gojo and Sukuna chase their climaxes together after your walls quirk and spasm uncontrollably, letting their fluids burst inside to fill your holes to the very brim. You howl in Sukuna’s mouth, who chews on your bottom lip roughly, same with Gojo’s with the palm before snatching his hand away. The snowy-headed man huffs and pants, nearly choking on spit as his midsection flexes with every jerk of his ejaculation. And the giant above you groans while rutting into your ass, not stopping until his high passes through, the free girth ejecting semen to paint across your sweaty back.

For a few seconds, it’s utterly hot and cold at the same time, your figure trembling with the acute shocks coursing through your bones. Eyes roll to the roof of your canopy, and limbs wobble and give way for you to slump after Sukuna releases you from his breathtaking kiss. Luckily, Gojo is there to catch you, the comely noble attending to you with kisses to your temple.

“Look what you did,” he spits to his left, wanting to rid his mouth of whatever remnants Sukuna left with that disgusting kiss. “You weren’t kiddin’ when you said you wanted to break them.”

“Hmph, don’t ever take me for a liar,” the demonic man stretches after withdrawing his length out of your butt, chortling at the sight of his essence sticking to you. “Oi, dove, you hear me?”

“Princess, you all right…?”

Whatever words the two were saying to you had begun to fade away despite their proximity. Your eyelids refuse to fight the urge to close, and your skin allows the cold breeze to blanket you. Everything goes black, your breathing returns to balance, and the sound of the fire cracking comes back to sing you to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“My Lady, are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“Huh?” You snap out of being zoned out for the sixth time today. Your vision is now present with the gazebo view, the ocean glistening from the morning sun in the distance, contrasting with the beautiful greenery of your garden. Many flowers of different shapes and sizes, various colors painted on top of the veins and roots separated from the yellow brick road coursing around it.  

You sit at the gazebo for your morning tea; it’s part of your morning routine after a nice bath and Utahime helping you pick what to wear for the day. Usually, when you sit here, you admire the tranquil sounds of the outside space and the sweet taste of your hot beverage.

“—Mmmm! Yeah, just like that, princess, keep gripping on me like that…”

“Stay still, or I can make it hurt real bad…Hmmm, fuck, so tight…”

Memories from last night flash one after the other, ringing your ears with nothing but the erotic noises and voices from the night before. Your cheeks dial in warmth, recollecting the senses of having both men — your childhood friends — so intimately close to you. The hotness of their breath touching your skin, the wet, teasing licks of the tongue from Sukuna’s stomach, Gojo’s slender fingers swiping and pinching your clitoris as he sucks on your nipple, and Sukuna using one of his arms to restrain your hands behind your back as he uses two others to keep your hips still to hammer your holes with his girth. 

“Princess…” the way Gojo says your name, your stomach flips to the smooth tone of his voice. His striking blue eyes survey your expression like you’re his lost treasure. His hard body meshing together with your sweaty, soft figure is a sensation you’ll probably never forget…

“Princess…” Sukuna, with his red eyes and demonic face structure, put you in a paralysis spell, and his intimidating aura suffocates you to submit to his gaze and hold. Under his bow, you felt as though you were nothing but his and his alone. And you can’t tell if that is scary or intriguing…

“…—dy Lady….MY LADY!!”

“Y–Yes!?” Your attention swerves to reality, Utahime’s face mere inches from yours. Her brown eyes filled with worrisome confusion, scanning your expression. 

“What on Tengen’s Earth is going on with you?” She says with a sigh, “Are you sick? Did you not get enough rest last night? Tsk, it must’ve been Lord Sukuna and that blue-eyed jerk. My apologies, my Lady. I hope their intrusion didn’t keep you awake for too long.” 

You shake your head to your best friend. “No need to apologize, Utahime. And it’s all right; the Lords didn’t give me too much trouble.”

She gives a nod to your response, observing you picking up your teacup and taking a sip before setting it back down gently. “Still, I find it odd that both lords wished to see you so late at night. At the same time, too…If you don’t mind me asking, my Lady, what did they wish to speak with you?”

Again, she is your best friend, so you can trust her with the information you’re about to give. “…Apparently, both Lord Sukuna and Lord Gojo wish to have my hand in marriage—“

“MARRIAGE!!??”

“Shhhh!!” With haste, you stand from the table to cover your lady-in-waiting’s mouth from uttering another word. You swiftly survey the entire garden to see if anyone from the castle heard the shout. Luckily, it was just the two of you. “Please, Utahime, not so loud.”

The woman with her mouth covered blinks once, twice, before giving an assured mod for you to release her lips. She now speaks in whispers with you, “My apologies. But…marriage??”

“I know, it surprised me, too. It seems my father gave them his blessings to ask for my hand. It could be for the sake of our families and  relations or to strengthen the bond of our empires to maintain the powerhouse that is our continent.” 

“Mmm, those are valid reasons to consider, especially after the Great War, and that the bond of the three empires would give a good message…Or perhaps, did the Lords wish to wed you for more personal reasons?”

They did. That’s what you wanted to say. But instead, all you could do was think about their proposals from last night. The way they both stood on one knee and took two hands. Gojo’s eyes never looked so sincere and soft when looking at you, placing his soft lips on your left ring finger to gently kiss it. He looked like his princely self. But that night, he showed the caring and soothing cadence you had fallen in love with all these years. And Sukuna, oh Lord. Never did you think you’d live to witness the day this giant being before you took a knee for anyone – especially for you. Your right hand easily dwarfed in his grasp, brought to his lips that you’d only ever dream to have touch you. And those piercing eyes of his, red like blood, examining every single feature of yours as if you were the thing that made him strong yet weak. It was subtle, something only meant for your eyes to see. But most of all, it was genuine. 

“…That might be it, as well.” You mutter under your breath, your cheeks becoming warm while reminiscing the scenes to yourself. 

However, your chambermaiden was no fool at all. She could tell from your wandering gaze that something, in fact, did happen between the three royals that night. She lifted a brow at your response, “I think that is the case, seeing as though you’re trying to hide the smile from me.”

You squeak, immediately facing in her direction, seeing the foxy grin on her beautiful, scarred face. “I’m smiling?”

“Aha!” Oh no, I fell for it. “Gotcha! Oh my, it seems my Lady is having troubles with the heart. Could it be you are considering the marriage proposals?”

“W–Well…I don’t know myself,” it was an honest answer; you didn’t know the answer yourself. “The matter caught me off guard; I wasn’t expecting either of them to come to my quarters, let alone propose to me on the night of their arrival—“

“That’s not my question, my princess.” You gulp when she cuts you off, Utahime narrowing her feline eyes as she speaks. “It made you incredibly nervous that the three of you would be here at the same place, thinking those two would go at each other’s throats. Now, two Lords still stand, asking for you to be by their side, and you can barely keep a straight face. If you ask for my piece, I’m relieved they came here with the thoughts of marriage rather than spark up talk of another war in this continent.” 

You hum along to your maiden's words, taking in her reasoning. Yet she continues, “And judging by how fidgety you appear to be on this fine morning, something tells me you’re on the fence of accepting. Who will take my Lady’s hand? Lord Ryomen? Gojo? Ugh. If it’s the latter, I’ll only deal with him for your happiness. And Lord Ryomen, oh my. Being the spouse to the most powerful beast of Holy Tengen's continent , it’s something out of a fairy—“

“Utahime, calm down!” You stop the lady from her excitement bubbling into something substantial. You can tell she’s itching to plan your wedding – whenever that be – once your tea time is finished. “I…I didn’t accept their proposals, not yet.”

The dark-haired woman drops her jaw; how unfortunate it is for you to lie to your best friend. “What do you mean!? You didn’t? Then how come you three were discussing for such a long time? I saw Lord Gojo return to his quarters in the middle of the night, and I figured it was because you all had an in-depth discussion.” You open your mouth, but your words are caught on the back of your tongue. You couldn’t formulate a proper excuse or lie in time. Because of that hesitation, Utahime’s brows draw upward with wide eyes, her mouth changing into a small “o” shape. It was at that moment that you realized you dug yourself a grave.

“Princess,” her voice was still hushed, speaking slowly as if not to jump so hard to her assumptions. “…What exactly were you doing with Lord Satoru and Ryomen?”

“PRINCESS! PRINCESS!!”

Saved by another voice entering the fray, you and your lady-in-waiting turn around to see another person coming to the garden, running down the brick road to your destination. As they came closer, you could tell from the bright blue hair and uneven bangs that it was Utahime’s apprentice, the lower-status handmaiden Kasumi Miwa. Your lady-in-waiting was the first to correct her before getting closer, “Maiden Miwa! I’ve told you about running so freely around the castle. What if you were to bump into someone?” When Miwa is in the presence of the two of you, she’s huffing and puffing. “And stand up straight!”

“Eek! Sorry, Lady Iori, but I come bearing news for the princess!” Miwa fixes her posture and messy blue hair while trying to situate her breaths steadily. “Princess, I’m here to tell you that Lords Sukuna Ryomen and Satoru Gojo wish to speak with you!”

Huh??!! “Pardon??”

“Yes, they wish to discuss their proposals with you from last night. At least, that’s what they told me…Oh, there they are!” 

“Miwa, shhhh, don’t point!” 

You pay no mind to your chambermaid lecturing her young student because your eyes follow the brick pathway up to the castle steps where two figures stand. Sukuna and Gojo stand at the entranceway to the garden, both wearing their respective clothing. Not that it matters, though, because the memories from last night with your nude bodies being connected still haunt your senses. And now they’re here, big grins on their faces that share the same reason. They know, and they know that you know. Who knew that such a night full of unexpected passion and heat would happen to you and with your closest friends since your little years, who have grown to become such strong, handsome, and powerful men. 

Perhaps this was the union you’ve wished for — the union that could finally bring you three back together…Perhaps.

“…Tell them that I’m available to speak.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[moremaybank]

what time is it for u rn it’s 4am here i’m full of flu and have to get up in 2 hours in the RAINNN😭😭😭

11:13pm babe! and omg i’m so sorry you’re sick 😭 my mom AND sis are sick rn n i feel so baddd

[7s3ven]

Sex pollen w/ Simon Riley

Notes: MDNI, fem! reader, mature content, this is lowkey freaky (had this idea for a while), consensual, ghost x reader, tf 141 x reader, the rest of tf 141 are listening, y’all are in a warehouse but nobody’s there, sex pollen, reader isn’t part of tf 141 but working with them, reader has hair, make out, ghost and reader kinda switch who’s in charge, cussing

- You were starting to hate the unpredictable nature of the world. New plants were popping up everywhere, including a natural aphrodisiac that was apparently 10x stronger than those chocolates everybody raved about

- Jonny laughed at the thought of such a strong plant. “Ay, does that mean we gon’ a have ta fuck each other if we come in contact with it?” He laughs at his joke, not at all meaning it. You see Gaz’s face scrunch up in disgust

- You weren’t officially part of Task Force 141. You were merely asset, an extra pair of hands given to the unit to help with this specific mission

- “You think that sex pollen stuff is actually real?” You ask as you walk alongside Ghost, gun strapped to your back. The mission was a success. The harder part was regrouping with the rest of TF 141

- You and Ghost had been split from them and currently, the hints they were giving to you about their location were not helping in the slightest

- “Nah, load of bullshit.” Ghost replies. He wishes he could take his words back when he accidentally steps on an unknown plant, sending a puff of yellow pollen into the air

- Even through the masks, you both unintentionally inhale it. You cough, your nose stinging. Your body suddenly feels unusually heavy and… hot. There’s a pit in your stomach as you realise what Ghost stepped on. He seems to realize it too

- “Load of bullshit, you said?” You mock him. He sends you a glare, not appreciating your sarcasm.

- “L/N, Ghost, do you read?” You can hear Price’s voice as clear as day through your comm.

- “Yes, sir.” You reply since Ghost seems to be having a hard time maintaining his cool. “But we were exposed to the pollen. What are your orders, sir?”

- It takes Price half a beat to answer but that’s enough time for Ghost to grab your wrist and tug you into a nearby abandoned warehouse

- You squeak as he pushes you down. He’s trying his best to control his himself as he removes his vest from his sweating body. His actions have your mouth dry

- “Stay put, the both of ya. We’ll call a medic and find you.” Price says, oblivious to how you’re currently eyeing up his soldier.

- “Yes, sir.” You turn your comm off. “Ghost, you good?” He’s flushed but you aren’t in any better condition

- “Fucking hurts.” He mutters. He’s an inch away from you, his strong cologne washing over you. You press your thighs together, shuddering

- There’s a minute of silence as you curl yourself into a ball, almost trying to distance yourself from Ghost. He’s panting heavily, biting down on his gloved fingers to push away his thoughts

- And when you can’t handle it anymore, you pounce. You still have some dignity left as you hold his shoulders. “You sure?” You carefully ask. Ghost silently nods

- His hands rest heavily on your hips as he drags you back and forth, finally creating some friction that has you tilting your head back in relief

- But it’s not enough. You’re now lying face down, ass up, as Ghost ruts into you from behind, fingers sure to leave bruises on your soft skin. He’s hitting all the right spots and all you can do is quietly mewl

- Ghost grabs you by the hair, pulling you up until you’re pressed against him. Your knees ache from digging into the rough dirt below but you pay it no mind

- The pathetic noises the both of you, yours substantially louder, echo around the empty warehouse. You tilt your head back, unintentionally giving Ghost full access to your neck

- He leans his head down, nuzzling his masked face in the crook of your neck. His hands run down your body until they rest on your thighs, prying them open

- You’re grinding against the palm of his hand, small yet high-pitched huffs slipping past your lips

- And then your comm makes a noise. Ghost hears it too but he doesn’t slow down. “Do ya two know we can hear ya?” It’s Jonny speaking, his thick Scottish accent making it hard to understand his words

- As much as you want to actually turn off your comm this time, something prevents you from doing so. You tighten around Ghost at the mere thought of his teammates hearing what you’re doing

- “Think she likes it.” Ghost shamelessly tells his team

- “What position have yer got her in, Ghost?” You’re surprised Price isn’t yelling at the two of you. Instead, he plays along. Ghost shoves you back down and you narrowly avoid getting a mouthful of dirt

- “Put her back in doggy, Captain.” Ghost is speaking casually as if he’s not blowing your back out right now

- You whine, back arching at his hard thrusts. Beads of sweat run down your neck, a side effect of the pollen

- Ghost’s quiet grunts escalate in volume and the sound of such noises spurs you on

- You don’t have time to react until Ghost is turning you over, throwing your legs over his shoulders with ease. His large hands grip your shoulders as he lowers his head. You quickly slip his mask half up, eagerly pressing your lips against his

- It’s an intense kiss. There’s still a string of saliva that connects you when he pulls back. His hands trail down, stopping at your chest

- You almost forget the rest of Task Force 141 can hear you. Almost. “She come yet?” Jonny asks. Gaz is unusually silent but you can hear his heavy breathing as he listens

- “Not yet.” Ghost answers, “Probably almost there, though. Can feel it.”

- “Should make her ride you.” Gaz finally speaks up. He laughs, fully meaning it as a teasing comment but Ghost halts

- “Captain, your orders?” Ghost asks. You pout, bucking your hips up. Ghost stills you

- “What Gaz said.” Price answers, “Make her do the work.”

- You can only squeal as Ghost switches the position for the third or fourth time. You’re on top of him again but Ghost isn’t doing anything

- You crease your eyebrows in annoyance before rocking back and forth without his assistance. It’s an agonising slow pace but once you find your rhythm, you speed up

- You throw your head back, caught up in the moment. Ghost’s grunts are growing louder by the minute, which only fuels you. This time, you’re the one leaning down, tongue running over Ghost’s exposed neck

- It desperate and somewhat pathetic and… hot? The two of you are going at it like there’s no tomorrow. Like rabbits or animals in heat

- You pant, back arching even more. Your eyes are rolling back as Ghost finally helps you. You can’t help yourself from sinking your teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard. You think Ghost likes it when he loudly grunts, hips harshly bucking up

- You’re nearing your release, you can feel it. It’s so close. Your movements are sloppy as you grow more tired and Ghost decides to take over again

- You’re drooling, saliva leaking out of your mouth and landing on Ghost’s chest. He doesn’t complain, only picking up his pace. Your tongue is lolling around and you no longer have control over your limbs

- “Practically going cross-eyed.” He says, though you don’t know if he’s talking to you or his teammates

- You know it’s over when Ghost’s lips wrap around one of your nipples. You’re practically sobbing as the coil inside your stomach snaps, your fluids staining the dirt below

- Ghost keeps going and you gladly take it. Your hands rest on his chest for support as he closes his eyes in bliss. He finishes not too long after you but there’s a mutual understanding that you both need more

- “Fucking like rabbits in heat, ay?” Jonny speaks, chuckling

- It’s filthy as you and Ghost try to rid your senses of the pollen. You’re humping him as he tries to catch his breath. His lungs are telling him to rest but the rest of his body disagrees

- It takes three rounds until the both of you are back to normal. You’re lying on Ghost, panting. His arms are wrapped around your waist, keeping you grounded

- “You two done?” Price asks, but there’s a strain in his voice

- You and Ghost scramble to pick up your discarded clothes, quickly getting dressed

- You regroup with Price, Jonny, and Gaz with hot cheeks. And as you climb back into the car that Ghost is unfortunately driving, you don’t miss the way they all eye you

[platinumaspiration]

Lovestruck + Sims Delivery Express Updates

Howdy! Hair comes fresh out the proverbial oven to your table. Please enjoy, let me know if any issues.

Afro Puff and Long Braided Pulled Ombre are part of my hair default collection so throw out the mesh files if you have that.

Barrel Twist has an ombre option as well and Fringe has a femme version. I forgot pictures 😣

Download EP16 - SFS | MF Download SDX033 - SFS | MF Download SDX035 - SFS | MF

updated 8 Sept 2024

details below the cut:

EP16 Angular Fringe CU-EU | base colors | animated | 2.502 poly

EP16 Brush Up UM | base colors | 2.756 poly

EP16 Burst Fade UM | base colors + 5 ombre | 3.580 poly

EP16 Curl Pony TF-EF | base colors + 5 non-tinted | animated | 3.186 poly

EP16 Fringe UU | base colors | 3.599 poly

EP16 Long CF-EF | base colors | animated | 3.266 poly

EP16 Long Wavy TF-EF | base colors | animated | 3.704 poly

EP16 Short Hair Pin CF-EF | base colors | animated | 3.900 poly

EP16 Top Bun TU-EU | base colors | 2.110 poly

EP16 Twist Clip TF-EF | base colors | animated | 3.007 poly

SDX033 Long Braided Pulled Back Ombre TF-EF | 5 ombre colors | animated | 6.185 poly

SDX033 Afro Puffs Ombre CF-EF | 6 ombre colors | 3.350 poly

SDX035 Barrel Twist TM-EM | base colors + 6 ombre colors | 5.462 poly

SDX035 Bombshell UF | base colors | animated | 3.636 poly

SDX035 Ponytail UU | base colors | 3.112 poly

[foggyfrogss]

「 OXIDIZE 」 ˎˊ

tf! Sukuna x f! Reader | Warnings: MDNI, sexual content

Discord 21+

Summary: You and Sukuna indulge in each other for the night.

He was not a gentleman, but you could say he was a gentle man.

With the way his large hands softly move over your body, it resonates throughout you intensely. As if he’d left bruises. His touch lights your skin ablaze, leaving you hot. Yet, he touches you like a freshly bloomed wildflower, gently picking it to avoid bruising.

Perhaps he understands just how big the difference is in your sizes; a fear of hurting you. No matter how many times you explain to him he can’t hurt you, the same tenderness remains.

Pink hair tickles at your exposed skin, dancing softly as he kisses the valley between your breasts. His nose drags into your skin while his silkened lips demonstrate his hunger. You can feel the way his heavy breaths puff into your skin, it’s warm and feeds the eager butterflies inside of you.

They swarm excitedly around your core.

Four arms seem a bit excessive, but the thought slips when you feel them hold you as they do. The top pair hold your wrists in place beside your head while the bottom find places on your body that crave attention. In the curve or your waist one hand rests as the other holds himself up. Again, he doesn’t want to put too much pressure into your wrists; scared of hurting you.

From above, you see the concentrated look of his face, twisted into his famous resting scowl. His eyes are closed, but they open to gaze up at you. He probably sensed your attention.

Red; it’s deep and rousing. They’re discernibly hungry.

Hungry for you.

All four gaze up, his left side hooded by the blanket of pink, full eyelashes. Eyelashes you grew to be jealous of. A faint, but evident crimson blush decorates his cheeks. Not because he is embarrassed, but because he is on fire. Inflamed, he is pressing into your core. His hardened cock is making itself known. You return his amorous gestures as you buck up into him.

Yet, as he presses into you, he’s moved his head up further. Hot kisses trail from your chest to your collar bone, spreading slowly to the curve of your neck. You’re tilting your head to the side, giving him more access; more control.

His sharp teeth lightly graze across your skin. Though it’s already littered with love marks, he plants more, claiming his territory.

Tongue following, it runs a stripe up to the start of your jawline below your ear. His breathing is still heavy next to your ear. It’s hot. A heavy grunt, from deep within his chest, could be heard as you continue to press up into him. Any distance between the two of you needed to be closed.

He’s kissing down your jawline, worshipping your skin like it was the finest meal brought to him. Ironically enough, his favorite meal was women.

He just would rather devour you in this way. It allowed him to have you as many times as he pleased.

“You are the most intoxicating and dangerous woman I have ever met,” he tells you. His lips press a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, causing your lips to burn with anticipation.

Ryomen Sukuna had called you dangerous. You wondered how to take that… Though stunned, you realize just how shocking it was for this man to even admit that… It was a compliment, a kind you were sure he’d never admit. He was a proud man, sure of himself and his abilities.

“I think of ripping your flesh from your body constantly, just to see how you taste…” He’s looking down at you with his heavy eyes. Your chest raises as you take in a deep breath, breathless from his words. “I bet you’re sweet, like a forbidden fruit.”

“Yet, the very fact that I couldn’t have you again after that irks me,” he’s muttering out huskily. “I would go mad.”

For someone who touches you so gently, he speaks with strong vehement. His brutish, aggressive vocabulary and behavior completely unparalleled to the actions in which he presents to you.

The man is a killer, eating humans for pure enjoyment and pleasure. A selfish man who is exceptionally sadistic. Cold-hearted but not for you. His heart warms you in ways no other being could. Nothing could compare.

You allow him to devour you in the way he does now, even knowing he’d never let you go.

A prisoner to Ryomen Sukuna.

From below, you admire the darkness of his tattoos that embellish his striking face. His fair skin glows from the lanterns in the room, but the pink of his cheeks remains prominent. Your eyes flicker around, following the lines on his jaw to his chin then back to his eyes.

Pink eyebrows furrow together while he studies you from above. It was as if he casted a curtain of pure lust by the way he gazed down.

His jaw clenches.

“I am yours,” you finally say in your hushed voice. The words pass easily through your lips, only because you were certain you meant it.

Eager to say it.

He seems to enjoy your words. Lips raise into a proud smirk as a deep, but quiet chuckle erupts from him. His blush seems to have grown darker, which causes your lips to turn up a bit. It thrills you to see such a beast crested in a rosy hue that you’d caused.

It makes you proud.

“I am yours,” you repeat again, reaching a hand towards his face. His skin is on fire, lighting your fingertips ablaze as you’re caressing his cheek. It’s soft, forming into the palm of your hand as you cup his face. Your fingertips just barely reach the edge of his hairline past his ear.

“So have me.”

Your words push him over the edge, causing a low growl to erupt from his throat. He’s moving his hips up a bit, positioning himself to fit you.

With an airy gasp, you’re feeling the bottom side of his shaft slide up against your clit, gathering your wetness. His size could be felt even from the minuscule movements. Though you’ve had him many times before, it always felt new. The pure excitement and intimidation never left.

You watch as he leans his hips back, only to bring them forward, placing his tip against your needy entrance. You’re taking in a shaking breath, eager to feel him… He’s sliding in without issue, thanks to your wetness.

Instantly you are taking hold of his arms, releasing his face. Your fingers latching into his tattoos biceps that cage you in.

His cock stretches you, pushing deep into you and kissing your cervix with his large tip. “God,” you whimper out, clenching your teeth as he slides his hips further into you, bottoming out completely. Even now, you’re amazed you’re able to take all of him.

Sukuna’s body is fully pressed into you, stomach against yours. His elbows dig into the fabric of the futon as he supports himself. His other pair of arms do the same, unable to do anything else as he presses into you. It’s just enough, you realize. He would not crush you.

When he begins to slowly drag out a bit, you feel a puff of warm air spread over your face. You realize how close his face is to yours, feeling the softness of his lips just barely touching your cheek.

“You are so tight,” he’s murmuring into your cheek as he presses a kiss. He’s bucking into you once more, grunting into your skin.

Your clit is suddenly stimulated, feeling a warmness as if he’d placed a hand down there… You’re moaning, biting your lip.

It’s his second cock, probably the one closer to his stomach. The top one. It’s sliding against your swollen cunt as he drags himself in and out of you.

His top right hand moves to cup your face, angling your head to your left so he can access your neck. Lips finding your sensitive skin, you’re panting as he quickens his pace, pressing his body into you a bit harder. You realize he’s attempting to stimulate his other cock this way.

It lights you on fire, feeling him use you this way.

You’re moving your left hand between the gap between his two arms, placing a hand on his back. He nips at the skin of your neck, grunting in rhythm with his thrusts. You take your other hand and find the hair on the back of his head, holding onto it.

With a light tug, he’s growling again, directly into your ear now.

His thrusts are a good pace, not slow but not fast, they’re just right. It’s hitting the sweet spot within you each time. His top cock helping you reach your climax with each slide.

You can feel every inch of him pump in and out of you.

Yet, you feel a devious idea come to mind, which makes you remove your hand from his back.

Between your bodies your hand moves, traveling low enough to find what you are looking for. His tip thrusts up, peeking between your stomachs and you wrap your eager hand around it, finding his shaft further down. It makes him halt his movements. Curiously, he’s looking at you now. “Keep going,” you plead, sighing. “I am close.”

He continues with no issue, thrusting into the cage of your fingers. The added tightness is good, you note. Only due to the fact that you could feel the way his hands tighten in the fabric of the futon below you. You were scared he may rip it.

In one thrust, you’re crying out, feeling the sudden harshness of it. It wasn’t painful, but you weren’t prepared for it. “Ryo…” you’re mumbling out in a whimper, dragging your nails through his hair as he fucks into you. His cock inside of you throbs, just like the one in your hand. You could only imagine how good it felt for him in this moment.

Your hand is placed just above your clit, so his dick is still sliding against your folds. Each thrust brings you closer. Vision growing hazy and bright as it builds up in your core.

At this point you’re closing your eyes, whimpering uncontrollably. “I-I’m…” you’re stuttering, clenching your hand tighter around his cock as you feel the orgasm begin to blossom. “You’re so good,” you hear him praise you.

A silent gasp comes from your lips as you throw your head back. Body exploding from the intensity of your orgasm. It has your clenching your cunt around his cock, which makes him hiss in return.

As the waves of pleasure cascade around you, he’s still relentlessly thrusting into you. In your ears you can feel and hear your heartbeat; it’s erratic. You keep hold of him in your hand, wanting to help as much as you can.

Soon enough, you feel him press his lips to yours, taking in your parted lips. His tongue finds yours instantly. Thrusts become uneven, bucking into you in a broken pattern. You know he’s close, which makes you moan.

He groan into your mouth and you feel an added wet heat between your bodies. Inside, you feel him release, filling you completely. Sukuna always came a lot… So you’d have to bathe again you were sure.

“Shit,” you hear him curse after he pulls his lips from yours. You’re looking up at him in a dazed trance, completely exhausted. Though the two of you had done much more in a session, this time wore you out anyways.

He’s slowly pulling out of you, leaning back and sitting on his knees. You’re sighing as you take in the sight before you, watching him do the same to you.

“What a lovely sight,” you hear Sukuna chuckle out.

You’re covered in his cum. It’s pooled up on your stomach and running down the sides of your body. You were sure it was running out of your cunt as well.

“I can bathe again,” you tell him, knowing he won’t sleep soiled. Yet, he’s reaching a hand between your legs, sticking two digits into your pussy. “Ah!” You jolt, feeling the overstimulation from it. His two large fingers pump in and out of you a couple times before pulling back out.

“I had to make sure it all stayed in there,” he says, leaning back down to hover over you. Sukuna presses a soft kiss to your lips before bringing his fingers to them. “Clean them,” he orders. Your stomach does a flip, but you follow his orders, feeling his fingers slide between your swollen lips.

You taste yourself and him, mixed together into one salty and sweet taste. It just about riles you back up.

One of your hands holds his wrist as you lick his fingers clean, pulling them out once you’re done.

“I’ll wash you,” Sukuna is finally saying, crawling off of you to stand. As he stands you take in all that he is, four arms and everything. A beast.

You ignore the fact that he’s about to walk around his shrine fully nude, but you realize he doesn’t care. It’s his shrine. It’s also yours, you note, as he picking you up from the futon. His bottom pair of arms holds you bridal style against him, top pair hiding your nude body the best they can.

“Toys last longer if you take care of them,” is all Sukuna mumbles to you while he exits the room towards the bathing area.

[occamstfs]

Work-Study

Coach Decker molds job-searching Jeremy into the athlete he never wanted to be, before now that is. Soon enough he'll never want to leave.

As football season nears its end I figured I'd get one last story out of it! Hope you enjoy this Academic -> QB -> Coach TF! Best! -Occam

“Jeremiah eh? Can I call ya Jere?”

“I’d um, rather you didn’t sir.” 

Jeremiah was less than thrilled about visiting the university’s head football coach to ask for a job, but when the tutoring program he was basically running for the university was shut down he was left with little other choice. The overworked clerk in charge of the school’s work-study program barely allowed him sit down before ushering him over to the stadium. Something about the coach Jeremiah didn’t even know the name of needing an assistant.

Staring at the burly man he now knows as Coach Decker, Jeremiah can scarcely believe he let the mousy bookkeeper strongarm him into meeting with the coach. Had he paid more attention at the work-study office perhaps he would have noticed just how frantic the clerk was, as if his neck were on the line had Jeremiah not gone. At any rate, Jeremiah clearly needs to work on his willpower, and what better chance than running calmly walking away from the beyond intimidating coach right now. 

Speaking of the man, Coach Decker scratches his beard as he looks at the neat resume in his hands. Looking up to sneer at the applicant he sees Jeremiah smile docilely as the will to puff out his chest and flee immediately vacates. The coach, seeing this as supplication, switches to a hungry grin and drops the resume to the table, “Have a seat Jerry, would ya?”

Jeremiah hesitates though acquiesces, instead choosing to focus on the assigned nickname once more, “Would you mind just calling me by my full name Coach Decker? I’d like to keep our relationship strictly business and I feel like treat-” Decker raises his hand to cut Jeremiah off. “Oh worry not lad. Trust. I won’t be having you do anything you don’t want to do.”

There’s some bizarre glimmer in the older man’s eyes that Jeremiah neglects to make a deal of as Decker directs his attention to a small bowl filled with snacks in front of him, “Why don’t you have a treat lad.” 

“Oh I don’t know Sir-” The coach clicks his tongue and Jeremiah almost flinches, “I insist, Jeremiah. And while we’re on the subject of names let’s cut this Sir shit out. Call me Coach.”  Jeremiah nods in agreement and shakily reaches to grab some protein bar he doesn’t recognize from the bowl, averting his eyes as to not meet the stare of the man. Yet, he still feels the burning gaze as he unwraps the bar and takes the first bite.

Jeremiah isn’t quite sure what happens after that. He blinks and suddenly Coach is laughing. The student smiles to pretend he understands whatever Decker is laughing at as the coach reclines and throws legs on the desk, scuffing up his neat resume underfoot. The younger man feels he should be bothered by this blatant disrespect, but he simply sits in a daze.

“Glad you enjoyed it Jez hah! The boys all love those things. But anyway, back to the interview eh? What made you wanna sign up to be an assistant coach?” Jeremiah’s eye twitches as he hears Coach refer to him as Jez. But then, it’s what he’s always gone by, right?

The overtures of a headache begin as he tries to recall if that is indeed, but he shakes it off. Stupid to get hung up on that, not like Coach’ll call him by something he doesn’t want to be called. Better to just go with the flow, trust the man. In fact, he now vaguely recalls his mom whining when he first started going by Jez. Which obviously only made him want to go by it more. He exhales a quiet laugh as he remembers.

It’s at this moment he takes heed of the second half of Coach’s statement, assistant coach? Finding his mouth dry from devouring the protein bar he clears his throat and speaks up, “Sorry, Coach I thought I was just going to be your personal assistant?”

Decker doesn’t try to hide the smile on his face as he pretends to think, “hmmm no no son. You came in to be a real part of the team didn’t ya? Not some pen-pushing pansy.” Jez’s eyes glaze and Coach watches as his words begin to sink in. “You were just sayin’ how much you love the sport, boy.”

Love the sport? Does he? For the life of him Jez can’t remember having watched one game all the way through. He’d never, uh. And then like a wave, Coach’s words wash over him- through him.

Of course he has. He’s always been a fan of their team though for sure, he bleeds orange and white. What’s possibly more important than watching his team curbstomp. Memories of helping out his mother in the kitchen on Thanksgiving burn like old film as he recalls broing out with his dad and brothers in the living room. 

 Like he’d be any help in the kitchen anyway, hah! His hands are good for nothin’ besides catching- uh. No, no he’s never played. He’s just a fan. Jez furrows his brow as he adjusts to his new memories. Clear recollections of scowling at his dad for shouting when his team scores are wiped and replaced by his own screaming alongside the man, screaming even louder.

Under his breath he whispers, “just a fan.” Some fight in him yet as some subconscious self-preservation sees the changes occurring and understands what Coach Decker is going to do next. This only excites the coach more, he knows Jez doesn’t stand a chance, but even this petty struggle will help heighten the severity of his upcoming transformation. Let’s see what a stud he’ll be able to mold.

“Well now Jez I wouldn’t say you’re just a fan. Hardly any of your classmates near the dedication you got to our team!” Jez’s eyes half return from vacancy, the sound of his sucking up drool fills the office as he speaks up, “my uh, dedication?”

Knowing he has Jez on tenterhooks he pauses to truly perfect his next attack on the man’s reality, “Well yeah Jez! Not anyone’s just up and switch their majors to be a better athlete.”

True alertness arrives to the younger man’s expression, eyes quiver with what can only be fear. Coach wonders if he’s stepped too far, too quickly. “I- I don’t believe I did do that S- Coach?” Even as he disputes the man, Decker watches as his will is enacted.

He certainly paid no mind to what Jez, Jeremiah, was wearing when he walked in, but he could be sure it wasn’t athletic wear. Coach looks down from the man’s pained expression too late to see his pale legs revealed as his dress pants shift to cheap shorts. He almost laughs as his button up sews shut and shades to their school colors.

“Well if ya so Jez,” Coach does little to disguise his intentions, “now what did you say your major was again?” His face drops as a pit develops in his stomach, “it’s engi-erk” he gags as he tries to speak it allowed. Gulping he tries again and is totally unable to say engineering. 

He gasps and reaches for a drink on the coach’s desk to avert choking on his words. Throat wet with some electrolyte-ridden concoction, an idea worms its way to the foreground of his mind: as if he’d waste time learning the best way to stack blocks. Fuck that noise- he followed the same path Decker did way back when, a B.A. in Sports Management.

Mind over matter, Coach smirks as he sees the man truly begin to be molded by sheer suggestion. Eyes narrow under thickening brows. Jez speaks up with a thicker baritone now rife with vocal fry, “uhhh, ‘s that a joke coach? You gave me the rec letter for the program?” Glasses no longer sit right on his face as it slowly begins to square out. 

Coach guffaws and pats his meaty though, “Hah! Just pullin’ your leg champ! How could I not know your schedule, basically made it for ya every semester after all,” he pauses to let the words sink in. Jez tilts his head and adjusts how he sits, unfamiliar with how to rest in a body on the precipice of change, “given you’re my star player.”

What happens next is too impossible for Jez to even begin to remain cognizant of, Coach Decker however watches with delight. The man still reclining rubs his thigh and adjusts his pants as he sees Jez shaped to be the perfect stud QB.

Images of drills throughout almost a decade of play invade his mind as the sound of his, once dressy, now tennis shoes shredding to tatters resounds. His feet become unto paddles that allow him to tear down the field, toes stretch and soles widen to propel a man much larger than himself into brutal action. A trove of curls grow across its top as it grows indeed large enough to hold the brute he is to become.

Jez has always been partial to a man’s legs and would surely lust for the trunks that he seems to be growing. His mind is thankfully absent as calves seize, flexing and bulging into what can only be described as ham hocks. Scars from a few minor surgeries hide under the new furry forest of hair as in his mind he recalls training with a furor to recover and ensure he never had to spend time off the field again.

This is all well and good, but now his mind and body move into the real meat of the matter. Eyes twitch though remain glazed over as the trail of hair racing up his new bulky thighs reaches his hips. Even lost in the delirium of his changing mind, he bites his lip and still unchanged hands cannot help but reach towards his cock as he feels the most oppressive changes yet begin.

Jeremiah was never much of a size queen, nor was he ever emasculated by his average cock. And now, Jez is more concerned with the asses of other men, men he was more than happy to dominate on and off the field. Though one look at his own cock was more than enough to get him harder than anything. Rapidly it fills the jockstrap his briefs had become, and just as quickly as his pants tear through his cheap athletic shorts does his cock burst from its containment.

Pubes blanket it from every angle as they race across his inner thigh and cover his needy balls pulsing heavier. His hands struggle to grasp the dick as it surges harder and twitches girthier as thick veins travel up the length and pump it larger with every racing beat of his heart. 

Opposite his immaculate cock grows an ass he would have killed to have in his past life. Likewise his increasingly impressive cheeks refuse to be hidden by his shredded shorts. Bursting free from the frayed pants his new ass forces him to sit higher in the seat as it packs on the exorbitant weight needed to stick out from thighs so impressive, and buoy a core excessively powerful. Curls decorate his rounded ass like a peach as it fills out to a degree that even straight men will find it hard to not appreciate.

Speaking of filling out, his stomach rumbles as it too begins to grow to become his most powerful asset on the field. Joining force with his tree-trunk thighs and racing ahead of bulging biceps to-be, abs burst onto his torso as a treasure trail traces up towards his chest. Already altered memories of his watching the football team shift to insert himself into the massive shoes of the QB. 

Body hair races across his form as a harbinger of the growth that is yet to come. Every pore begs to display his masculinity and his rapidly increasing testosterone is more than happy to let this be the case. His pits and face race to fill with hair dense enough that sunlight could never break through as he gropes at the heavy balls aiding and abetting his changing mind. As hair continues to spread his growing strength is soon to follow.

His hands depart from his quivering cock to instead feel his new cobblestoned core before they are to be evermore covered up as his waist bulks up to give him the strength needed to be a powerhouse. Memories of striving to do his best in various academic contests and electives evaporate as all his free time instead pours into days at the gym and hours upon hours of studying tapes and techniques to excel at the game. He distinctly remembers staring at his impressive form in the mirror, getting off to his six-pack and feeling up the heavy pecs that lie above them, he was, is, irresistible.

His stomach begins to bloat as pecs pile onto his chest. “Gonna need to put on some pounds if you wanna play in the big leagues boy.” Jez creates new memories all by himself of his years training under Coach Decker. Sitting there he grunts as his hands are pushed by a torso trading definition for pure power as his chest grows to hold arms as strong as pistons. In his mind’s eye Jez sees himself throwing a ball down a field under the watchful eye of Coach. With his current arms he sees them max out a throw of not even fifty yards. Seeing the grimace on Coach’s face he grits his teeth. He must be better. The empty stadium is filled with the sound of his biceps bursting the sleeves of his shirt, muscle summoned from nothing as he hurls the ball well past the end of the field. He needs to do more. Better.

New footballs appear in his rough hands as soon as the last is sent rocketing down the field. Each one further and faster than the one that came before. His eyes are filled with determination as his mind loses the care to focus on anything but hurling with efficiency towards men who aren’t there. With each hurling sphere his biceps progressively pack on more power, more strength. Thick veins travel down the radius of them before they are joined by a litany of pulsing others trailing from every angle as hair thickens up from his forearm to hopefully meet with the sweaty garden teeming in his pits.

Coach’s laughter echoes through the empty stadium as it blares in every corner of Jez’s mind. The new athlete goes to wipe his sweaty brow and is caught off-guard as he feels the scratchy hairs on his wrist rub against his wider forehead and thicker eyebrows. He grunts in confusion and then grabs at his own throat as it produces a sound, “whuh?” duller and dumber than he’d ever produce. At least in an uhh, interview?

Looking around he almost goes into shock as he seems to be standing on a football field. Hyperventilating he goes to steady his breathing, pushing at his chest only to find his hand bump up against pecs too large to be possible. Dreading what he is to see if he looks down, he does so anyway and falls backwards in shock as he sees what has become of his bookish body. And then, just as soon as the subconscious paltry remains of Jeremey awakens, he finds himself sitting opposite Coach again in the office.

Struck with a powerful headache he groans and rubs at his forehead as his hair pulls into a choppy look. He mumbles in his fried voice, “ughh what’d I drink last night Coach?” Decker laughs again as he prepares the final assault on his new player’s mind, “Well Jez, after winning the big game I’m sure you drank half of what the bar had Hah!” Jez’s eye twitches as his jaw squares out and his stomach bloats just a tad more.

“Now that you’ve graduated though I’m sure you’re off to the big leagues huh?” The rusty gears in Jez’s hungover mind struggle to understand what he means, when did he graduate? Half-drooling he wipes his mouth and scratches his forearm on facial hair that has evolved from messy stubble to something intentional. He’d never abandon his team, his Coach. Seeing his brows furrow in as deep a thought as he can muster, Decker speaks up, “Well if you wanna stay Jez, you’ll need a few more years under your belt. That’s for sure.”

Jez’s pulse quickens with excitement as he looks back at the coach, he can be Coach’s right hand man. The chair he sits in groans as he puts on weight from a few years of playing the sport from the sidelines. Behind Coach the trophy recently summoned from Jez’s victory is joined by a couple others from his years coaching QB’s at Decker’s side.

A few premature greys dot his beard and hairline as his figure continues to fill out. He loses a bit of speed but his strength stays steady as the years working out alongside his team keep him ever-honing his own form, muscle tediously maintained and defined by his slowly increasing years. Seeing him near the end of his transformation Coach scratches his own beard, “How old’re you now kid?” 

The once university senior again struggles through his foggy mind, “OH! Uhhh twenty-” No that can’t be right, looking down at his tanned hands on thick thighs. He’s gotta be at least thirty something right? Seeing his confusion Decker moves on, he’s been scrambled enough, “Ah don’t worry kid, we’ll work out the details later. Gotta finish this interview and all. So, Jez, you still interested in bein’ my Offensive Coordinator?”

The heart of the younger coach skips a beat, facing burning with blush under a beard rising higher on his face. “M-ME?” His chest pumps larger yet with pride as his whole form almost vibrates with excitement. Fuck it feels like he’s 22 again! Suddenly he’s standing, his meaty hands pounded on Decker’s desk as the head coach reaches out for a shake.

Jez feels more fulfillment than he ever thought possible as he shakes Coach’s hand. Brings him back to holding that first trophy in his hands. Even further back to committing to play QB for Decker, his parents proudly standing to his side. He can’t wait to see where the team’s going next under his tutelage. 

The new offensive coordinator feels Decker’s heavy arm around his massive shoulders. Looking down at the man he would’ve sworn was taller he smiles and deepens his newly earned smile lines. Decker pats the sweaty man on his back, “and to think! You just wanted to be my assistant!” The pair share a hearty laugh as Jez doesn’t quite understand what he’s implying, “Psh- Sure Coach, as if I’d do that chicken-shit work!” The pair head off laughing to greet the team and announce Jez’s new position.  

P.S. If you're interested in some more football TF's check out HairyJockTf's Artist to Athlete, which uses the penultimate image of this story quite superbly!

[junicult]

!! waking up w the bachelors for the first time.

contains ; suggestive content. minor mentions of sex. the morning after fluff. fem implied!farmer. unestablished relationships / new relationship tropes.

harvey.

- for starters, he’s already awake before you even wake up.

- it probably look him forever to fall asleep, too. he didn’t want to move you from lying on his chest, but he was much too aware of his breathing,

- needless to say, he was nervous.

- he had a great night, but he was still frightened to wake you up.

- when you finally did though, a little later then the crack of dawn like you’re used to: you find yourself in bed alone.

- it didn’t take long before the fresh smell of sizzling bacon, and eggs filled your senses.

- shirtless harvey making breakfast in the kitchen. yup.

- when he notices you behind him, he’s quick to kiss you.

- “how are you feeling?” he asks, his hands immediately holding onto your arms.

- “a little sore,” you tease, and he’s instantly flushed and red.

- of course he’s apologizing, and asking if there’s anything he can do to help.

- but mostly, he’s feeling his ego puff up a little. it’s good for him, he needs it.

- what’s even better for his ego is when he feels your fingers gently tracing the lines on his back, and then you’re shooting apologies for being the reason those were there.

- not that he could complain. he feels a serious boost of confidence walking around knowing there’s scratches all up and down his back from your doing.

- absolutely looked at them in the mirror when he got home.

- i’m sry but he’s a doctor. yes he’s shy but he definitely knows what he’s doing w a woman.

sam.

- definitely woke up with nearly his entire body weight on top of yours.

- his arms wrapped around you, keeping you pressed against him whilst completely unconscious.

- you’re moving so gently, trying your absolute best not to wake him up before you see him quietly stir.

- “where are you going?” with the largest frown on his cheeks.

- yes, he understands you have work to do on the farm…but he’s too tired to really care.

- just for today!

- “lay with me for a little. it’s a sunday!” he’s mumbling, sleepy voice and eyes closed while he continues to tug you into him.

- once he’s mildly awake, no longer able to fall asleep, he’s instantly the sweetest.

- “how’d you sleep?” “are you feeling okay?” “is there anything you need?”

- he can’t get over the sight of you from the night before, his face flushed and red just from thinking about it even after hours later.

- loves just running his fingertips up and down your arm, feeling your goosebumps.

- all he wants to do is just kiss you all over, hold you close and express his excitement over being with you.

shane.

- he’s knocked tf out.

- he’s significantly exhausted, not only because you did a number on him but also because it’s been so long since he’s spent the night with anyone.

- he truly feels undeserving, especially when he gets woken up to you planting a soft kiss to his forehead.

- “you made breakfast?” he asks, in utter shock at the display before him.

- you sit in the opposite end of the bed, legs crossed while the both of you pick at the various fruits, eggs, and bacon on the tray.

- he feels a little awkward, but only because he’s never been treated like this before.

- and also because he didn’t expect affection like this afterwards.

- honestly, he probably thought you’d both stop talking to each other.

- he’s relieved to find that’s the opposite.

- “are you…feeling okay? or anything?” he asks, rubbing his hand behind his head.

- you can’t help but laugh, maybe tease him a little for being so awkward: which only eases his nerves.

- insists on cleaning up the dishes.

- he tries not to pay so much attention to the purple blotches on your neck every time you speak to him for the next few days.

sebastian.

- he was nervous.

- it took him a bit to fall asleep, mostly because it usually takes him a while to fall asleep at night: but this took especially long.

- he found himself kind of antsy for the morning.

- although you did converse for a while after finishing: he was still terrified.

- like an entire nights sleep would change your mind about the whole thing and you’d regret it, or something.

- nope, completely wrong.

- he woke up on his own when the floorboards creaked.

- the sun was already up, peeking through the curtains. the large bed beside him was empty, but it didn’t take long to find you.

- “oh! shit, did i wake you?” you ask, hair disheveled and clothes aimlessly thrown on.

- he has to blink back a layer of sleep to take in the sight of you.

- “no, it’s fine.” he yawns, trying to ignore your bare, plush thighs that peek from underneath your t-shirt.

- “i have to get started with work. you can sleep in, don’t worry about it.” your smile makes his heart buzz, and he genuinely wants to decline (mostly because he doesn’t wanna feel like a burden) but your bed was just so comfortable.

- he wakes up literal hours later.

- you’ve already done a handful of chores for the day, and he finds you feeding your cows across the farm.

- he does in fact watch you for a bit. (in the least creepy way.)

- but when you come back inside to check up on him, he’s making you sashimi for lunch.

- “did you sleep well?” you tease, smiling when his cheeks go pink and his eyebrows raise.

alex.

- now, i wanna say he totally planned on waking up before you, make some scrambled eggs and water your plants.

- but he didn’t. in fact, he woke up to complete emptiness in the bed beside him.

- he was silently upset at himself.

- he underestimated how early you wake up every morning.

- luckily, he was able to find you in the kitchen, blissfully humming while making a shared breakfast.

- “g’morning, pretty.” he’s grinning, slightly startling you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you into his chest.

- he’s incredibly infatuated with how you look in the morning.

- the sight of your lips all plump, the couple of hickeys on your collar and your loose t-shirt hanging just above your ass.

- sry but he’s already obsessed with how domestic it is.

- he’s definitely thinking things that he’ll keep to himself until your third or fourth morning together.

- “let me help you, please.” he puffs out his lower lip, batting his eyelashes dramatically to watch you scoff.

- grins when you step aside and let him pamper you.

- probably finds himself lingering around longer then intended.

- not that you mind, but he didn’t even realize he hasn’t seen his grandparents all day until the sun was starting to set.

- kisses you goodbye and promises to see you tomorrow.

elliot.

- bros aftercare is INSANE.

- EVEN hours later.

- like ik he’s getting you water, something to eat, rubbing your sore muscles, and just overall worshipping the ground you step on afterwards,

- but even when you wake up in the morning he’s still the same.

- “are you hungry? you should eat.” “no, let me get that for you.” “how are you feeling?”

- he made such a gormet breakfast you were almost too full to do work.

- which of course he’s telling you he’s got it, but you’re not immobile by any means.

- he isn’t anything but romantic.

- he’s all about you, and your pleasure that if anything, you’re just lacking energy in the morning.

- his lips haven’t not touched a single part of ur body, i’m gonna be honest.

- he just wants to praise every inch of you.

- he also loves watching you work. it’s extremely attractive to him.

[y2sims]

10+1 Hairs in The New Hair System.

colors by pooklet.

binned, familied, tooltipped and compressed.

all four colors are in one .package file.

all the meshes are included! 💜

Agustin Blake Ponytail

texture: nouk's waves (from charismatictrait) mixed with poppet's wavy

mesh fix by charismatictrait

ages tf - ef

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Anto Noelia

original texture

mesh conversion by entropy

ages cf - ef

24k~ polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Aurum Volume - unisex

original texture

mesh conversion by powerpcinside

ages tu - eu

11k~ polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Gramsims Merida

io's texture recolored

mesh conversion by grecadea, fixed by io

ages cf - ef

3120 polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Gramsims Merida Pulled Back

io's texture recolored

mesh conversion by grecadea

ages cf - ef

2040 polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

ModishKitten Cloud Puff - unisex - two versions

v1: texture by nouk; v2: nouk+ea dreads (from drew-cricket)

mesh conversion by angelluvjoy, m conversion by deedee-sims

ages pf - ef; cm - em

8862 polys

DOWNLOAD BOTH: sfs // mf

Simpliciaty Martch - unisex

original texture

mesh conversion by entropy, m conversion by vidcunds

ages cu - eu

10.9k~ polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Simpliciaty Skai - unisex

original texture

mesh conversion by digitalangels

ages pu - eu

3260 polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Sims2Lux 7

nymphy (from mrs-mquve) + trapping blend that i put together

ages cf - ef

2784 polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Wicked_Sims Bellatrix

if i remember correctly, i think i snatched the texture i used for this from the skai hair above 🤔😄. not my best work, probably looks better with the darker colors, but it's an old hair, and, well, very low poly

ages tf - ef

1960 polys

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

💜 like my content and want to support me? please consider leaving a tip or requesting some hairs through my ko-fi! 💜

[cxvii666]

"WHY'S THIS DEALER? TAKING THE PISS!?"

college au! hanta sero x reader

cw: extremely slowburn, 21st century love story, college au, genz romcom type beat, this iss part two, here's part one, smut in the next part if im feeling festive we'll see

wc: 1.2k

"i kinda wanna bell him, but i've already belled him, he gets annoyed with how much i bell him"

it’s a few days later, and hanta’s still trying to wrap his head around how the hell denki pulled this off.

they're at the bus shelter down the road from mina's flat. it's almost identical to the one from a few days ago — same crack in the pavement, same slightly busted bench that feels just a little too hard, like it was made for someone much taller than either of them, same cigarette butts scattered around like confetti.

hanta sero 's squatting on floor, back resting against the plastic screen, rolling a cig. he's half paying attention to the weather (which, of course, is cold and wet and annoying), and half paying attention to denki. the guy is bouncing around, looking as annoyingly chipper as usual. as if everything isn’t one giant cluster of "what the fuck?"

“so,” denki grins his stupid little smile, and he says in a puff of kiwi guava passion-fruit, “i was thinking, why don’t we invite her to mina's party? she'd totally be down, right?”

hanta squints at him as he fishes through his hoodie for a lighter. “who?”

denki looks at him like he’s the idiot. “her, man. you know, her.” and he points vaguely toward the horizon, as if the answer is self-evident.

hanta raises an eyebrow, finally putting two and two together. “wait, you mean—oh, fuck off, you’re seriously gonna call her? right now?”

“oh, totally. she said she was free.” denki's already pulling out his phone, face glowing with that stupid confident smugness that he always seems to have, and an “i'm about to make this happen~" expression that hanta can’t stand. “trust me, she’ll come.”

hanta squints up at his friend. “you are not calling her right now, you know that, right?”

but it’s already too late, denki is cheesing, phone to ear shushing hanta as the ringing stops and the line clicks, he swaggers off behind the bus stop with a "hey baby, watchu up tonight?"

hanta knocks his head back and sighs, sparking up his cigarette and plotting how tf hes gonna killl his bestfriend and come up with a believable cover story.

within seconds, hanta’s phone buzzes. the screen lights up with a text from denki to the group chat. "yo, I just invited my friend to da partyyy. Hope dats cool :3"

mina replies instantly with a "of courseeeeee !!!!!" as hanta scrambles off the ground after his friend. “you didn’t.”

“oh, I did.” denki winks, walking backwards and narrowly dodging a telephone pole in the middle of the sidewalk, practically vibrating with excitement.

hanta groans maybe he can get bakugou to help him hide the body. denki's or his own, he's not sure yet.

by the time the party rolls around, hanta’s not sure what’s worse: that he’s actually looking forward to it, or that denki’s probably masterminded half of it. he rolls up to the venue, mina's cramped, barely-lit apartment on the edge of campus, and immediately regrets every decision that led him here.

the front door is cracked open, the sounds of music and voices spilling out into the street like it’s some kind of wild circus. the familiar smell of weed hits him even before he steps inside, thick and pungent, mixing with cheap beer, cologne and the faintest hint of sweat. he steps through the door, practically getting knocked over by the surge of people.

and there you are.

hanta spots you immediately, even though there’s a sea of bodies moving around. you’re laughing at something kirishima just said (or maybe it’s bakugou, hanta’s not sure — both of them are too loud and too obnoxious, for some reason the angry blonde turns into the biggest joker when there are pretty girls around), your eyes sparkling in the dim, red-tinted light of the apartment. you’ve got your hood up over your head, and your smile is infectious in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

he tries to shake it off, but damn it, you’re pretty, and it’s only getting worse the longer he stands there, trying to be cool about it.

as if on cue, denki spots him across the room, waving him over like the over-enthusiastic piece of shit he is. “ayo- hanta, over here man."

hanta makes his way over to where denki and the others are, but his eyes keep flicking toward you. you notice him, and a little smile quirks up on your lips. his heart skips a beat.

“yo,” you say with a nod when he gets closer, that same lazy, sleepy tone from the other night, but this time, it’s mixed with an easy confidence that hanta can’t quite place. “so, you actually showed up.”

“uh, yeah,” hanta scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, already regretting how much he’s suddenly aware of your presence. “thought i’d make the trip out since... well, y'know, denks 'n mina insisted.”

you laugh, that same sound that makes his stomach flip. “yeah, he’s kind of like that.”

denki leans over your shoulder up at hanta, grinning like a maniac. “told you I was good for it, right? knew she'd be down to hang out.”

“yeah, you don't shut up either,” hanta mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips because, damn it, denki makes a noise of offence and your eyes just twinkle at him.

hours later, hanta’s pretty sure he's had way too much to drink — not that he’s complaining. it’s the usual party chaos. kirishima’s in the middle of a heated game of flip cup with bakugou, mina’s in the corner making everyone laugh with a story about some dumb thing that happened at work, and denki’s doing whatever denki does when he’s had too much to drink: embarrassing himself by feeling up on evryone art the function.

but through it all, hanta keeps finding himself glancing at you.

you’re sitting on the couch now, chatting with mina, your legs tucked under you, looking so... effortlessly cool and at ease with the world. it’s honestly getting kind of ridiculous how much his brain is fixated on you.

denki, of course, notices this, the little shit. he sidles up next to hanta, clinking his bottle against his, and waggles his eyebrows. “yo, bro. what’s up w'th you and my girl?”

hanta nearly chokes on his drink. “what? your girl?”

“yeah, come on,” denki teases, clearly enjoying this way too much, entwining his free hand around hanta shoulders and slowly moving their bodies close to where you're sat . “i’m not blind. you’re totally into her.”

“no, i—” hanta stumbles over his words, trying to act nonchalant about it. “no, i’m not. i just—she’s cool, that’s all. and you set this up.”

denki’s grin widens into a full-on smirk bringing his face so close to hanta that their noses are practically touching before mock-whispering. “i told you she was your type, didn’t i?”

“you’re unbelievable,” hanta mutters, pushing his friends face away from his own with the palm of his hand, but he’s not even mad. he knows denki well enough to know he’s not wrong.

across the room, you catch hanta’s eye again, and this time, you wave him over with that easy, relaxed smile of yours. his heart stutters in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s making his way over, ignoring denki’s victorious little cackle from behind him.

the night goes on, the music getting louder, the drinks flowing a little too freely, and the crowd growing more chaotic by the minute. but hanta doesn’t care. because when you look at him again, when you laugh and pull him into a conversation about some random thing — about denki, the stupid party, everything — was definitely worth it.