#TO THE WHOLE ABOUT TO TAKE A SHOWER THING

[gtgbabie0]

₊˚⊹♡ Valentines Day Headcannons ♡⊹˚₊

જ⁀➴ ♡ Starring: Vi.ᐟ Caitlyn.ᐟ Sevika.ᐟ જ⁀➴ ♡ !!-18//MDNI-!!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡ ♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

•Sevikaજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Oh she’s a sweetheart, really, but the poor woman is overworked and the day slipped her mind until Shoola makes some off-handed comment at work— then she’s absolutely cursing herself.

❤︎ She gets home late afternoon, flowers bundled up in her hands and an apology sitting on her tongue— her shoulders dropping at the sight of you bundled up on the sofa.

“Angel, I’m so fucking sorry.” Her voice is all soft and dejected as she sits down right beside you, a big hand resting over your knee. “You know work just keeps on pilling up, I didn’t even notice the—”

You immediately dismantle her, fingers curling around hers with a gentle smile and tender eyes, gleaming up at her with a sickly sweet love. “S’alright Sev, you’ll make it up to me.” And god she swears she will.

❤︎ And she really does! Cooking you up that one homemade meal you’re always bugging her to make since the first time she made it for you. A nice candle-lit dinner, popping open a bottle of your fave, showering you with sweet compliments and tender touches— her hand rubbing your thigh from beneath the table.

❤︎ In fact her hands don’t leave the soft curvature of your perfect body for a single moment, guiding you into your shared bedroom— kissing along your jaw and down your neck, a sincere apology hidden in the way she sheds your clothes from your body.

❤︎ She had you spread open for her on the bed, mechanical hand squeezing the inside of your thigh— the cold metal against your flushed skin shoots a shiver through your body, one that was only doubled as she pushes the vibrator a little harder to your clit.

“That’s it, baby, keeping making those pretty noises f’me yeah?” Her voice was all gruff and ragged, watching in almost awe as rubs the toy over your sensitive bud so painstakingly slow, you can’t help but buck your hips up in desperation, needing more.

“Mmfm, p-please Vika! please.” You whine, hands fisting at the bedsheets when she turns it up to a setting that makes your thighs shake as the vibrations intensify, your cunt soaking the toy as she rubs it through your slick folds.

“Please?— please what baby? I ain’t a mind reader.” She absolutely lives for the way you arch up from the bed, looking up at her with glossy eyes.

❤︎ Sevika likes to take her time, pushing you right to the edge before bringing the vibrator away with a small smirk, scoffing a chuckle as your whines get louder and somehow, even more, needier from the way she rubs the slick toy over your pert nipples. Immediately leaning into your tits to lick and kiss at your glistening peaks murmuring about how “fucking good” you taste, her hand caressing over your waist and ribcage.

“Soaked for me huh?” She notes, smirking against your nipple as you blabber on about how much you need her until she dips her hand between your thighs to push her ring and middle fingers inside of your cunt, slick walls clamping around her thick digits— then you’re all broken moans and breathless gasps. “There you go, fucking swallowing my fingers up, huh? Greedy girl.”

Her eyes drink in every inch of your body as she sits back, her mechanical hand bringing the vibrator back to your clit as she curls her fingers deep inside you, fucking you until you’re seeing stars and some more.

❤︎ Sevika does good in making it up to you— spoiling you with a bubble bath, making sure to fold your favourite pyjama set over the radiator so they’re nice and warm for when you get out— fresh bedsheets and your favourite candle. She’d dote on you all weekend too because, at the end of the day, she really thinks you deserve the best.

•Caitlynજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Nothing can ever be just ‘casual’ with Caitlyn, it’s a whole day thing for her. From the moment you open those pretty eyes, she’s completely at your beck and call.

❤︎ She would wake you up with sweet whispered nothings murmured against your jaw, kissing along your bare shoulders and over the nape of your neck— fingers slowly grazing down your spine in a gentle attempt to coax you out of dreamland.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my dearest.” her smooth velvety accent sends a slight shiver down your spine, humming in contentment.

You find her tender gaze as you turn to look up at her, all sleepy smiles and bleary eyes— her hand coming to rest against your warm cheek, tracing over the pillow lines that were printed into the soft skin. “Mm, happy Valentine’s Day love.” You respond, letting your eyes flutter close once more as she presses a kiss to your temple.

❤︎ She would have breakfast all ready, a platter of sweet fresh fruit and other various toppings for the heart-shaped waffles— she really does go all out and it was so worth it to see how your eyes twinkle in awe, the way your smile widens and the giggles that escape your lips.

❤︎ Caitlyn might have also splurged a little on you, okay maybe more than a little. A pretty dress that fitted your gorgeous frame oh so beautifully, adorning jewellery that made your complexion shine even more so than usual and a rather raunchy lingerie set that she couldn’t wait to take off, all folded in a gift bag just for you to wear tonight at dinner.

❤︎ A private booth in a fancy restaurant, gave her the perfect opportunity to tease you and she did— all night long, whispering filthy things into your ear. By the time the pair of you had climbed into the limousine, your panties were soaked and well Caitlyn really couldn’t help but slip her hand between your thighs, underneath your dress to rub her fingertips over the little damp spot.

“Mm, Cait—” you gasp, trying to keep as quiet as possible, not wanting the driver behind the partition to hear but it was so difficult when she hooks her middle finger over your lacy panties, the same pretty pair she gifted you with this morning, pushing them to the side slowly.

You hide your face against her shoulder, whimpering as she slides her fingertip along your slick folds, circling your clit with a feather-light touch— not giving you want you so desperately need which only makes you whine some more, hips bucking. “Sshh, you’re such a needy little thing, already so wet just from some words?” Her tone was almost condescending.

❤︎ A mess of shoes and clothes trail behind the pair of you, leading to your shared bedroom. Caitlyn didn’t have much patience, not when she was this turned on— needing to get her hands on you.

❤︎ Once she had you right where she wanted she couldn't stop. With you spread open for her in front of the mirror, her fingers teasing over your clit— wanting to make you cum again because gosh she couldn’t get enough.

“Look, baby, look how well your pretty pussy takes my fingers.” She coos, pressing a kiss to your jaw as you sit in between her legs— thighs draped over hers in front of the mirror as she slowly thrusts her two fingers into your fluttering hole. “Will you give me another, hmm?”

You let out a small whine, tipping your head backwards against her shoulder— her free hand instantly cupping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together slightly, to make you face the mirror, admiring the way the pair of you fit together so perfectly. “Ah, Cait— Yeah, yeah, I can.” You whimper, watching how her fingers disappear inside you.

“Oh, such a good girl for me.” She hums in agreement, chuckling lowly as she curls her slender fingers perfectly— hitting that spongy spot deep inside you that makes your hips buck up against her hand, grinding your clit against the heel of her palm and whimpering for more. “That’s it’s, make a mess all over my hand— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Caitlyn watches the reflection in awe, how your hips rock against her hand in tandem with her fingers in reckless abandon, chasing after that relief until you're gushing all over her digits, soaking the silk bedsheets whilst she coos praises into the bare skin of your shoulder.

❤︎ She didn’t stop there, spending the rest of the evening drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you were boneless against the pillows, hair all tussled and completely flushed and panting. A beautiful sight.

❤︎ Caitlyn would shower you with praise, whispering sweet nothings into your sticky skin— nosing at your jaw and kissing all over your pretty face, keeping you grounded whilst she cleaned you up with such gentle hands before getting you a nice, cold glass of water and whatever else you needed. The rest of the night she spent cuddling you, with your head tucked beneath her chin, playing with your hair.

•Violetજ⁀➴ ♡

❤︎ Violet tries so hard to be all nonchalant about it, trying to act like she didn't know what was coming up but can’t— she fails horribly. Waking up at the crack of dawn to decorate the living room with heart-shaped bunting and balloons, giggling to herself whilst you slept peacefully upstairs in your shared bed.

❤︎ It was the waiting that she couldn’t deal with, pacing around the living room completely restless— every tiny noise that came from upstairs had her gasping softly in anticipation.

Violet's eyes lighten up as you walk into the living room, one of her shirts hanging around your shoulders, hair all tussled and eyes oh so sleepy— you giggle softly in surprise, looking around the decorated living room, ‘awwing’ softly as you spot a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase and a small box of your favourite chocolates. “There’s my girl, c’mere.” She chuckles, holding her arms out for you.

“When did you do this?” You ask all giddily, walking over to your equally excited girlfriend who all but tugs you closer to her— toned arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“This morning, whilst you were snoozing.” She replies, words muffled against your hairline as she peppers your face with loving kisses, hands moving to cup your face, thumbs caressing your warm cheeks as you nuzzle into her palms with a content hum.

Your arms circle around her shoulders, holding her close as she watches your gaze flicker around the room once more— she lives for the way your eyes go all starry, the smile that was plastered across your pretty face. “Aw, you did really good.” You really just melt her heart completely, she hugs you tightly against her once more, showering you with affection as you both share murmured— “Happy Valentine’s Day.” and other sweet nothings.

❤︎ Vi would spend the morning doting on you, the full princess treatment because her girl really deserves only the best!— she’d treat you to whatever you wanted from the bakery just down the road for breakfast, showering together and doing your skincare routine for you.

❤︎ The pair of you would take the dog out for a nice walk around the local park before stopping at the shop, grabbing a few things for dinner and a couple of snacks along with pre-made brownie mix to bake later— which the pair of you somehow make a complete mess of but it was all apart of the fun!

❤︎ The whole day would be so relaxing— full of nothing but absolute love, your heart feeling so full as the evening rolls around. The pair of you snuggled up in bed as she kisses you ever so sweetly. The movie you had put on now long forgotten, the remote kicked off of the bed and somewhere on the floor as those kisses turned a lot more heated and greedy.

“Mm, need something baby?” Vi asks in between kisses, smirking against your lips as you grind your hips down against her— desperate for more of her, fingers grasping at her broad shoulders.

Oh, she’s so cocky. Chuckling against the soft curve of your jaw as she dips her hand into your pyjama bottoms, cupping your cunt through your underwear— the apparent wet spot giving you all away. “I want your— your strap, please.” You whisper shyly, pressing your face into her shoulder with a weak moan.

Your reply only inflates her ego, rubbing her fingers over your underwear— her other hand caressing over the curve of your waist and up to your hip. “Yeah? Don’t be shy baby, s’just me.” She coos, turning her head to press a kiss to your cheek, whispering a gentle, “Come on, tell me what you really want, hmm?” Lips grazing against the shell of your ear.

You whine, trying to grind down against her palm as you press your face further into the crook of her neck— groaning in both frustration and desire. “Want to ride your strap so badly, Vi— need you to fill me up, please.” You practically plead, and that was all Vi needed to hear.

❤︎ She never really had much patience, it was practically nonexistent when it came to you— especially when she craved you as bad as she does right now because god your body was a piece of damn art.

“You’re so beautiful, baby— keep moving, just like that.” Vi was practically drooling, her half-lidded eyes zeroing in on the way her strap disappears into your cunt with ease, the silicone toy glistening with your slick— hips grinding against her so clumsily, so desperately.

Her fingers dig into the fat on your hips for leverage, almost manhandling you into a slower pace so you could feel each mind-numbing drag of her cock along your gummy walls, drawing out those sweet broken cries from your parted lips— jaw all slack and eyes hooded. “F-Fuck Vi— feels so good!” You whimper, nails biting into her shoulder which all but shoots a shiver down her spine, making her arch her strap deeper up into you.

She swears to god she could feel you squeeze around her, physically impossible but right now, god, she’s certain— “Yeah? Taking it so deep angel, feel me right here, huh?” She coos, pressing her hand over your lower abdomen— her other sliding from your waist up to your tits as you continue to bounce her strap— thighs beginning to burn in such a good way.

You nod, blabbering on and on in agreement— a bunch of nonsensical moans that sound far too good slipping past your lips— so needy for her as your movements become all sloppy, your hand desperately pushing on hers until her fingers find your clit. “There you go baby, fuuuck look at you— cumming around my cock.” She watches in complete awe as you lose yourself in the feeling, bouncing on her strap until you’re gushing around the thickness— soaking her thighs.

❤︎ Vi would prepare a bath that would end in round two because she really couldn’t keep her greedy hands to herself— not that you had a single complaint when her fingers were stuffed inside you, thumb slowly rubbing against your clit, the warmth of the bubble bath enveloping you. It was all too good.

❤︎ You end the day all cuddled up in bed, matching pjs and clean bedding— her big, warm hands massaging your achy thighs as she lavishes your pretty face with tender kisses, telling you how much she loved you until the pair of you end up falling asleep halfway through a movie, limbs all tangled beneath the blankets.

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡ ♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

[theemporium]

[5.1k] the thing between you and leon was just for convenience sake. that was all it was and all it ever would be. obviously fucking the same person for a prolonged period of time wouldn't lead to feelings or anything like that. right? (smutty themes included)

.

Look, Leon never claimed he made smart decisions off the ice. 

It was different when he was on the ice. He was good on the ice, excellent even. He had shelves of trophies to prove as much. There was a reason he won those trophies, there was a reason he had earned his contract and there was a reason he was seen as one of the best players in the league, even whilst playing with Connor fucking McDavid every single night.

Leon was really fucking smart when it came to hockey. It was just everything else he seemed to have a problem with.

Case and point? The fact he was currently driving one and a half hours after a late afternoon game to meet you at some dodgy motel where there would be less of a chance of him being recognised than he would in Edmonton. 

Not the smartest decision. 

The fact this had been an ongoing arrangement for the last few months also further proved this was not a smart decision in the slightest. 

But truthfully, Leon could not bring himself to regret his far-from-smart decisions because the pros definitely outweigh the cons, quality over quantity or whatever the saying was. Because god knows the relationship between the two of you came with way more cons: the distance, the commute, the fact you were a fucking Flames fan.

It was, by all definitions of the word, the furthest thing from convenient for him and yet he was still making the drive to Red Deer against his better judgement. 

You were already there. He had just gotten out of the shower, the exhaustion from the game and the press conference already settling deep in his bones when he opened his phone to find a picture waiting for him, one of you sprawled out on a bed—a bed which he recognised easily by the same ugly sheets the motel used in every room.

Leon hated the way his stomach flipped at the sight of them, at the knowledge that you were there waiting for him. 

He had tried not to think about what he was doing too much, but it was hard to avoid when Connor gave him an odd look after he phoned his dog-sitter and asked if he wouldn’t mind popping over to make sure Bowie got his afternoon walk and some dinner. He also tried to ignore the looks of confusion he got from the rest of the team as he waved off the offer of celebratory drinks after a shut-out win against the Blue Jackets. 

If he was being honest, Leon’s way of coping with this whole thing was to avoid a lot of details. 

It seemed to be working so far. 

The drive to Red Deer felt like muscle memory by this point. It was almost therapeutic, to let his brain mostly shut off and relax after such a fast-paced, high adrenaline game. It was nice to just clutch the wheel and follow the signs down, knowing that you were waiting for him at the end of the journey. 

He could have snorted the second he walked through the motel room door, the key still in one hand as he pushed it open and found you sprawled on the bed—unfortunately clothed, unlike the photo you had sent him earlier. 

“Playing hard to get?” 

Your lips twitched as you pushed yourself to sit up on the bed, shuffling until you were perched on the end. “Not everything is about you, Draisaitl,” you mused, watching as he closed and locked the door behind him. “You were taking your time and this room is fucking freezing.” 

“It’s almost like the only thing I had planned in my diary was a game today,” Leon deadpanned. “No secret meetups penciled in.” 

“Hm, should have guessed you would want your ego stroked after a game like that,” you retorted, watching as he began to shrug off the suit jacket he wore with his game day suit. “Want me to tell you how good you did, baby?” 

Leon rolled his eyes. “You watched?” 

You shrugged. “I got curious, wanted to see what all the hype was about.” 

“Hm,” Leon hummed, tugging impatiently at his tie until he was able to pull it over his head. His fingers were already moving to the buttons of his shirt. “And what was your conclusion?” 

“You play alright,” you commented, your lips twitching like you were trying to fight back your own grin. “Slightly disappointed by tonight’s performance though.” 

Leon raised his brows. “Two goals and an assist weren’t enough for you?” 

“I was looking for a hat trick,” you said, and this time you did grin.

“Brat,” Leon huffed, not quite fond but something else positive, lustful, desired even.

“You love it,” you countered, eyes sparkling.

He didn’t even bother to deny it as he leaned down, both hands engulfing your face as he kissed you, hard and fast and desperate, like the long drive down had finally caught onto him and his patience. 

“Clothes off,” he muttered between kisses, hissing a little when your teeth playfully nipped his lip. 

“Gonna warm me up?” You taunted, leaning back enough to pull your hoodie over your head and throw it somewhere on the floor beside his abandoned tie and shirt. 

He groaned, his nose scrunching up. “That was a horrible line.” 

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna fuck me,” you retorted, looking far too smug for his liking.

The worst part was that you were right.

…

“Leaving already?”

“I need to get back to Bowie.” 

“Give him my love.” 

“I will not be doing that.” 

“Rude.” 

…

Leon wasn’t exactly going out of his way to hide the fact he was sleeping with someone on a regular basis. 

It would be a stupid thing to try and hide when he knew each of his teammates had working eyes and would very much be able to see the scratches and marks left all over his body following his latest meetup with you.

“Oi! Oi! Someone had a fun night!” 

Leon barely reacted anymore, simply letting the cheers and catcalls echo through the locker room as he focused on gearing up for practice. It was inevitable, it was something he had dealt with since the start of his relationship with you—if whatever the two of you had could even be considered a relationship. 

“I’ve been looking for a new place to take Lauren for date night.” 

Leon paused, turning to look at Connor with his brows furrowed together. He waited for the boy to continue but he never did. “Okay?” 

Connor was still looking at him expectantly. “Any recommendations?” 

“No?” Though, it came out sounding like a question. Mostly because it was a question, because Leon was kind of confused why this was a necessary topic of conversation before early morning skate. “Am I meant to know a place?” 

Connor blinked. “I assumed wherever you went after the game on Tuesday.” 

Leon frowned. “I didn’t go out to eat after Tuesday’s game.” 

“But you phoned your dog-sitter,” Connor pointed out, though he didn’t sound accusatory. He had that look on his face, the same one that Leon often saw on the ice when he was trying to work out a play before it even happened. 

“I did,” Leon nodded, because there was no point in denying it when Connor had overheard the conversation. “Pretty sure he doesn't have any date spot recommendations either.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed and Leon swore he could hear the cogs in his brain whirling and turning. But Leon was stubborn and a little petty and he didn’t give handouts, not even to Connor. So he stood there, staring back at his friend with a fairly blank expression.

“Interesting,” Connor said eventually before turning back to his stall to get ready for practice.

Leon pretended to ignore the way the tightness in his chest loosened when Connor dropped the topic.

…

“The motel could be a good date night spot, you never know.” 

“I know for a fact we saw a rat in the bathtub once.” 

“Yeah, and you screamed like a little girl.”

“I screamed the appropriate way for a rat the size of a small dog.”

“Bowie could take that rat.”

“I would never let Bowie near that monster.”

…

Despite every piece of advice he had ever been given from the veterans before him, roadies didn’t really get easier.

After a while, the non-descriptive hotel rooms with scratchy sheets and stiff pillows became a part of the routine. It was a part of his job, the same way early morning practices and bag skates were. He didn’t like it, he could do without it but he had learnt to accept it very early on in his career. 

Still, there were some nights on the road where the room was too uncomfortable for Leon to settle down. 

They had flown in early for their east coast roadie, having a full day and night in Florida before their game the following night. The others had headed out for dinner, wanting to enjoy the heat whilst they could but Leon had waved them off when they extended the offer to him. He was tired and still a little grumpy from the small nap he managed on the turbulent flight down. He wanted his bed more than anything, but the hotel one would have to do. 

Except, Florido was humid. 

It was humid and hot and his clothes were sticking to his body. But the air conditioning in the hotel room was stuck at a temperature that made the room frigid. And the fucking feeling of the sheets against his skin made him feel like he was seconds away from biting his own arm off if the starchiness didn’t stop feeling so starchy against him. 

He hadn’t even realised what he was doing until the rings were going through. 

“I hope you’re wearing something sexy for me.” 

Despite his pissy mood, Leon did find himself snorting a little. 

“Put on my tightest pair of boxers just for you,” he mused, swallowing back the biting complaints as he tried to settle back onto the bed. 

“Yeah? Gonna mess them up for me, big boy?” 

“God,” Leon groaned but he was smiling. “I don’t even know why I bother sometimes.” 

But you laughed and the sound settled something inside him. “I bet they have little Oilers logos on them too.” 

Leon grinned a little. “Is that something you’re into? Want me to dress up for you?” 

“I would burn them if you wore them in front of me.” 

“If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask,” Leon retorted, his eyes falling shut as you scoffed on the other side of the phone.

“Are you naked now?” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Do I want to listen to you jerk off to my fantasies of burning your Oilers boxers? Can’t imagine anything hotter, Draisaitl.” 

Leon hated the way his dick twitched at your words anyways, the way something stirred in his stomach at the idea of you being so desperate to get his clothes off and to have him sprawled out naked and waiting for you. He didn’t tend to like handing over control, but he thinks his curiosity would win out when it came to you. 

“Talk dirty to me, baby. Tell me your sexy, arsonistic dreams.”

…

“Be honest. Do your boxers have little Oilers logos on them?” 

“I am not even dignifying that question with an answer.” 

“I’ll wear a Flames thong, we can match.” 

“I promise you I will not fuck you if you wear any sort of Flames merchandise around me. Instant turn off.”

“Liar.” 

…

Even though Red Deer was a beloved meet up spot for the both of you, Leon wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the obvious opportunity to meet up after a Battle of Alberta game.

Your apartment was one Leon had become familiar with, even though this was technically the first time he had ever stepped foot into it. It felt a little surreal as he walked through the doorway, sliding off his boots and looking around at the apartment that had been the backdrop for more Facetimes than he could even remember. 

His eyes lingered on the couch as a vague memory came to mind, of seeing you sprawled over it with your hand between your legs and your head thrown back as you came for him over the phone after a particularly rough game against LA.

“You just gonna stand there all day?” 

“Maybe,” Leon answered, not seeming to be in any rush as he continued to glance around your apartment before turning to face you. “I wanted to see what my options were for the night.” 

You raised your brows. 

“What? Backing out of our bet now?” Leon mused, feeling his stomach twist in delight at the way your eyes instantly narrowed in defiance. You were going to be difficult tonight, bratty even. 

Good. He liked that. He wanted that.

“You were so confident your Flames would win,” Leon continued, the name tasting like acid on his tongue as he hissed it out. His eyes were glued to you, taking slow steps towards you and feeling a thrill of excitement at the way you refused to back down. “A shame they couldn’t win.” 

“They would have,” you said, just to push his buttons, just to piss him off. “Bad calls can really determine a game.” 

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Bad calls don’t mean shit when they can’t get the puck in the back of the net.”

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he stood in front of you. “And you did?” 

“Twice,” Leon grinned, sharklike and dangerous and yet, it still didn’t stop you from darting forward to press your lips against his.

Leon was shameless with the groan he let out as he pressed you against the wall, as he tucked his leg between yours and wound his arms around you so he could press you against his body. He was shameless in the way he kissed you, fast and passionate and needy and desperate. He was shameless in the way he muttered what he wanted to do with you, in the way he wanted you, in the stupid deal you had goaded him into a few hours before the game.

It was a herculean task to pull yourselves away from the wall and let you pull him towards your bedroom, but it was worth it once the two of you had managed to tear your clothes off and get on the bed. Leon allowed himself one, two, three seconds to stare at the sight of you spread out on the bed before he crawled over you and completely engulfed your body with his own.

“And that—” You let out a small whine as his teeth nipped the spot behind your ear. “—power play in the second was a bullshit call and we both fucking know it.”

“Fuck,” Leon groaned, his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the length of your neck. “Do you ever shut up?” 

“Thought you liked my mouth open,” you retorted, breathless and smug and, fuck, if it wasn’t infuriatingly hot to him. As if it wasn’t that damn mouth that was the reason he kept this going when it was far from easy or convenient. 

“I like it full,” he corrected, lifting his head to watch the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I like it when you’re too fucked out to talk.” 

Your eyes gleamed with interest. “Then guess you better hurry up. I’ve been hearing a lot of promises since you walked through that door.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Keep your hands above your head. Don’t move.” 

“Is this you cashing in your reward from the bet?” You asked, playful and teasing but still obedient as you reached up to grip the wooden bars of your headboard. “That's all you want from me? To not touch you?” 

Winner gets to do whatever they want for the night.

Leon grinned and it made your stomach twist in delight. “Be good and you’ll find out just what I want and what I will get from you.”

…

“Is that a teddy?” 

“Don’t judge Quacks, he’s been with me through a lot.”

“He is staring into my soul.”

“He is a good judge of character and he says you’re pissy.” 

“Sounds like a very judgemental duck.”

“You two can bond over it.”

…

Somewhere along the line, the visits to that dodgy motel in Red Deer started to lessen.

Leon wasn’t sure when or why but…it just started to happen. It almost felt natural though, something he tried not to think about too deeply. He had just come off one of their longest roadies of the season yet—one that unfortunately resulted in more losses than wins—and he was keyed up, pissed off and in desperate need of some sort of distraction. 

But despite the two days off following the roadie, the idea of sitting in his car to drive down to Red Deer and back just for the sake of a few hours (at most) felt tiring and annoying and just…so much work. 

You had laughed over the phone when Leon had said as much, not sounding all that bothered or surprised by his pissy attitude. If the messages and late night calls shared during the roadie were anything to go by, you had watched the games and knew just how bad the team was playing lately. 

“Want me to come up and kiss the shitty games better?” 

“That’s a three hour drive,” he found himself saying in response. “Both ways.”

You snorted. “Wow, you wouldn’t even let me stay the night? Maybe chivalry is dead.” 

And that…fuck, Leon didn’t realise how badly he wanted that until you said. 

“You should come,” he blurted out. “Come and stay over.” And after a few moments of silence, he added, “I don’t have anything for a few days either.”

Leon wasn’t sure what he expected to come of the offer, but it was a little too late once you had accepted the offer. You messaged him once you were on the road. You sent another when you briefly stopped at Red Deer, taking a picture of your usual motel and sending it with a ‘missing the musty smell already’. You ended up sending your location for the rest of the journey, claiming you couldn’t be bothered to message when you were nearby and that he could just watch your location if he was that desperate to know. 

He didn’t admit that he watched your pin move closer and closer to his house for the last fifteen minutes of your drive. 

Leon kind of expected it to be awkward when you arrived, for the regret to hit and for the heavy realisation to settle that he had let someone else into his space for a prolonged amount of time. 

That never happened. If anything, it was more unsettling to realise just how easily you slipped into his life at home, to see how quickly Bowie accepted you. 

If anything, it made him realise how much he wished the two of you had done this sooner.

…

“Never took you to be the kinda guy to wine and dine a girl.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do you kiss Bowie with that mouth?” 

“No, but I did make you come three—”

“Nuh uh! Not when Bowie can hear, he has innocent ears.” 

…

The trips to Red Deer became nonexistent and instead were replaced with a back and forth of trips between Edmonton and Calgary.

Now, as stupid as his decisions off the ice may be, Leon wasn’t oblivious. He knew that this went beyond the original convenience excuse the two of you had thrown around at the start of this relationship. He knew that no normal person in a ‘sex only’ relationship was driving three hours just to spend a few days with their ‘sex only’ partner. He knew that this was far beyond the original agreement the two of you had agreed to in that dingy Calgary bar after the Oilers lost abysmally. 

But Leon was more than happy to avoid voicing those realisations out loud for as long as he got to keep everything going the way it was. 

Because he liked how things were, despite the initial confusion, and he was unashamedly selfish like that to know that he wasn’t letting it go until he had to. 

And if lying to his teammates to get out of team bonding after a ten day roadie so he could be home when you came over was a part of that? Then so be it.

He missed you. 

“You’re acting like it’s been a million years,” Leon commented, closing the door behind you and placing your bag to the side (rather than the spot in the middle of the entryway you had chosen). 

“It has been a million years,” you said from your spot on the floor, your legs crossed and Bowie happily licking your face. “I’ve been deprived of seeing my favourite boy.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, though it seemed fond. “He misses you too. Pretty sure he recognises your voice through the phone now. He looks extremely disappointed when he goes to the door and you’re not there.”

“Because he’s the smartest boy!” You cooed at the fluffy dog on your lap, grinning widely as he continued to whine and yip happily at you.  

Leon chose to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sight. 

“Did you only miss him?” Leon found himself asking, because apparently he had reached the point of being jealous of his own damn dog.

The amusement was clear on your face when you lifted your head, that grin now directed completely at him. “I never took the Leon Draisaitl to be one to go fishing for compliments.”

Leon all but huffed. “I am not fishing, I am asking.” 

“Because you missed me?” You asked, sounding even more amused. 

“I regret opening the door.” 

“Liar,” you beamed at him, moving Bowie off your lap (who was not happy with the sudden shift in attention) and pushed yourself back onto your feet until you were in front of Leon, arms wound around his neck as you placed an obnoxiously loud, smacking kiss onto his cheek. “Better?” 

“You’re getting there,” he said, trying to sound dismissive and unbothered but the smile growing on his face didn’t help. 

You shook your head, almost looking as fond as he felt. “Hurry up and kiss me then, Draisaitl, it’s been a million years.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, but he happily complied. 

…

“That goal in the third against the Kings was hot.” 

“You watched?” 

“You sound surprised whenever I tell you I watch your games.” 

“The game was on at the same time as the Flames game.”

“Yeah but the Flames game didn’t have your grumpy face on the screen.” 

…

Leon realised that things had to change when Connor, of all people, was the one pointing out just how long this stupid thing between the both of you had been going on.

Not on purpose, which somehow made the whole thing ten times worse. 

The thrill of hate sex hadn’t been a solid excuse for the relationship between you two after the third or fourth hookup. No hate sex was that good to commute for it, no matter what anybody says. And the convenience argument quickly followed, even if the two of you clung onto it with both hands in the early months of the relationship.

And as the relationship grew and bloomed, you both seemed happy enough to ignore labelling it all together. 

Which was pretty fucking stupid, when Leon really thought about it. Even more so when Connor was the one connecting the dots for him.

“So.” 

Leon didn’t even bother looking up, his gaze focused on his skates as muscle memory took over, looping and tightening the laces on his skates before practice. “So?” 

“It’s almost been a year,” Connor said, standing in front of Leon’s stall with half of his gear on and his hands on his hips. “And I respect that you want to keep your privacy but…”

Leon paused, looking up at Connor with his brows furrowed. “What?” 

“I thought we were friends,” Connor frowned. “Good friends.” 

Leon blinked. “We are? What’s that got to do with anything?”

Connor stared at him like he was the one going crazy. “So you’re going to finally bring her over for dinner on Sunday? Lauren wants to meet her too.”

Leon blinked again. “Who?” 

Connor sighed, heavy and exasperated. “Your girlfriend, Leon. The one you have been hiding away for the last year.”

And, in that moment, Leon had come to a handful of realisations that were not ideal to deal with a few minutes before a hard practice on the run up to playoffs. Especially not when it had been triggered by words from the ‘more robot than human’ Connor McDavid.

He hadn’t realised the whole thing between you both had been going on for almost a year. He hadn’t realised the people around him were that observant, that they figured out he had been seeing the same person rather than random flings during the season like he had done in previous years. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to call you his girlfriend until he realised he couldn’t look Connor in the eyes and say with conviction that yes, you were in fact his girlfriend. 

Leon realised a lot. 

“Raincheck?” Leon blurted out before he could stop himself, filing away the epiphany and Connor’s disappointed captain face to the back of his mind for the remainder of the practice so he didn’t deck it on the ice. 

He was the first one out of the locker room after practice before Connor could catch him again.

…

“Hey, you’re still coming over this weekend, right?” 

“Uh, yeah, just like we planned. Why? Did something come up?” 

“Yes. No! No, it didn’t. I just…I just need to talk to you about something.”

“How ominous.”

…

Leon had probably paced the distance to Germany and back around his living room by the time you arrived, much to Bowie’s displeasure as he watched from his spot on the couch with only slightly judgemental eyes.

In the days since his conversation with Connor, most of his thoughts had been surrounding what he wanted to say to you. He wasn’t stupid enough to think you didn’t feel something for him, he knew you had to or you wouldn’t be driving up to Edmonton every other week to see him. But he didn’t know if you would want more, he didn’t know if you would want a label.

He didn’t know if pointing out the very thing the two of you had been ignoring for the last year was going to completely fuck it up and, selfishly, he really did not want to lose you. 

It was almost ironic that you didn’t even knock on the door when you arrived, using the damn spare key he gave you to walk straight into the house like it was normal. Because it was normal for the two of you, it had been normal for months.

And yet, the only thing Leon could say as you walked through the door was, “where is your bag?” 

“In the car,” you said as you closed the door behind you but made no move to take your jacket off or even pull your boots off.

Suddenly, Leon felt on edge. “Why didn’t you bring it in?” 

You stayed where you were, too far away from him, too far away for him to reach out for you. “Is there a reason for me to bring it in?” 

“I—” Leon frowned, his chest twisting uncomfortably. “What? Of course there is. You’re staying the weekend, no?” 

“Am I?” You asked, your hands clenched into tight fists by your side. Your voice was shaky, unsure. He had never heard it like that before, and he never wanted to hear it like that ever again. Especially when it came to him. “Because from the way you’ve been acting the last few days, it feels like you are just trying to let me down nicely and it’s—”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Leon blurted out.

You stared at him, lips parted in surprise.

“I—fuck, I had a whole thing I was meant to say before that,” Leon grumbled to himself, shaking his head as he closed the distance between you both. And for the first time in days, his head felt clear as he stood in front of you, his hands cupping your face because he needed to be touching you before he felt like his whole body would explode. “We are so far past this whole convenience bullshit.” 

You snorted despite yourself, your lips twitching upwards as your hands reached for him. “Yeah, I think we got past that after the reception lady at the Red Deer motel asked us if we knew we had collected enough membership points to get a room free for a whole weekend.”

Leon didn’t even bother holding his smile back. “I want this. I want you. I want to tell people that you’re my girlfriend.” He paused, his nose scrunching up a little. “Well, not everyone. They can mind their own business, but the people that matter. I want to tell them that you’re my girl, even if you’re a fucking Flames fan, and I’m yours.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a Flames fan. Not really. Not anymore.”

Leon raised his brows. “Finally joined the better side?” 

“My boyfriend put up a really convincing argument,” you said, your hands twisting the fabric of his hoodie between your fingers before you pulled him closer.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a smart man,” Leon murmured, surprised he could even hear himself talk over the sound of his thumping chest.

“Eh, I’m only really with him for his dog,” you teased, laughing as Leon groaned and tugged you closer.

“Brat,” he grumbled against your lips, trying (and failing) to hide the fondness in his voice as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You love it,” you retorted.

Leon’s face softened as he pulled back enough to look at you. “Yeah. I do.”

…

“Let me get this straight, you only realised you wanted me to be your girlfriend because of Connor?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Wow, baby, you got love advice for McJesus.” 

“Please stop talking about Connor whilst you are naked in my bed.”

.

[httpknjoon]

say goodnight and go | myg

plot | that time when everyone seemed to be doing something on valentine's day and the popstar and her bassist have all the time with their single asses.

w.c | 3.3k

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist, fluff, angst

note | wrote this last-minute today, just something short n sweet for valentines. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 93: SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

Your fans from South Korea are one of your most active fanbases, always showering you with praises and support through social media. You even heard one of your songs becoming a trend on their online platforms, with celebrities and big local personalities doing it. So to show appreciation for them, you and your management decided to stay in the country for a longer amount of days.

So far, you have done your back-to-back concerts, variety show appearances, and media interviews, making sure that your fans will get a lot of content. You also got to do some shopping in Myeongdong with Cal and Paul in your first two days in the country since you know how great everyone's skincare products are.

"Are you going out?"

It's your last day before you leave for another country tomorrow. You sat on the nook near the big window of your hotel room, overviewing the busy streets of Seoul, when Cal came in and checked on you.

"I would love to, but I don't like to see couples eating each others' faces on the street." you shuddered in exaggerated disgust, Cal laughed in response.

Tearing your eyes off the scene, you see your assistant all dressed up. From her usual jeans and dark-colored hoodie, she wore and pastel green coat dress and white boots. She also wore white fuzzy gloves, tights, and a scarf for the winter weather outside. Her hair is also styled in soft waves.

"You are so, so pretty." you smiled as she gave you a twirl. "Where are you and your fiance heading?"

She looks up, recalling her agenda for the day, "We're going to Nami Island, I think. I don't really know. Art planned the whole thing."

"Sounds nice."

You tried to smile before looking back to the window. A sense of heaviness sits on your chest as you hug your knees closer to your body, resting your chin on it. The feeling you have been trying to avoid today, Valentine's Day, cannot help but revive itself in your system. But it has been looming over you for a while now, especially in Seoul, where there are a lot of lovely, cute couples everywhere.

"You okay?" Cal asked, sensing your aura shifting.

"I am, I am!" You turned to look at her again, smiling to reassure her. "Now, go on and enjoy that date. We know Art has a low tolerance for waiting."

She chuckled before giving you a quick hug that you know means well. As soon as the door closed, you were back staring outside the glass. You watched the cars move in different directions, and people walked around places. You watched almost twenty-two stories over them, but your mood cannot keep up and remained low ever since you woke up today.

For the first time in years, you are alone in this day of romance. You tried to stay optimistic about it, thinking that you should be grateful you got out of that toxic on-and-off relationship. But man, wouldn't it be nice to be with someone in this cold, cuddly weather outside?

You sighed, combing your fingers through your unstyled hair, before getting up to your bed. You thought of just taking advantage of your free time to rest in the midst of your ongoing world tour.

"I don't think I can bring this with me, Juwon."

Yoongi let out a sheepish chuckle while holding a brown bag of Tupperware filled with kimchi, braised potatoes, lettuce, rice, and marinated uncooked bulgogi. His cousin laughed.

"Not my problem, man. Mom saw one of your videos online and said you looked thinner. She wanted to make sure you're eating a lot, especially now you're in the country."

It has been more than a decade since Yoongi visited his birth country. Unlike his parents who come and go to South Korea yearly, he never got to visit since he moved to LA. When his mother learned that you would be taking your tour to Seoul, she called up every family member to let them know Yoongi was coming. Everyone was delighted to see him after a long time. His grandma even handed him an envelope money, just like when he was a little kid. Yoongi tried to decline it shyly, but his heart warmed when she told him to keep it as it was for all the Lunar New Year he missed.

"She really wanted to see you, but she and Dad are celebrating their anniversary in the UK right now," Juwon told him while they sat in one of the cafes just on the outskirts of Seoul. "She always told everyone how her nephew is a celebrity in the US."

Yoongi laughed, cheeks warming up, "I'm not a celebrity. I'm a bassist for one."

"Eh, it's the same." his cousin shrugged, making both of them laugh. "You know, a lot of YN's fans here think you two are dating."

Yoongi's jaw tenses at the mention of you. Considering that you two are barely talking right now, being tangled in such gossip with you is a little startling for him.

Juwon continued, "Like, I would scroll on social media and I would see edits of you on stage made by your fans here. There are talks about her performances and gimmicks with you on online forums."

Yoongi knows. His father even asked him once about his relationship status with you during the holidays. When he was on his way to the cafe, a young student recognized and asked him if you two are together after asking for a selfie. And he answered the same thing.

"We're not dating. I'm just her bassist."

Juwon seemed to not really care about Yoongi's relationship status with you, just wanting to share the growing popularity of the topic. They went on talking about life and everything big happening to them. Yoongi appreciated his cousin not mentioning his failed engagement or asking him personal questions about you (since that is something other people do). A couple of hours later, Juwon had to go.

"I'm taking the missus out. So, I really should go," he explained, smiling sheepishly.

Yoongi smiled before they shared a quick hug, "Of course. I'll try to visit again after the tour so I can meet everyone."

It was only afternoon and Yoongi was already on his way back to the hotel. Love is everywhere, he can feel, hear, see, and even taste it with how sweet the heart-shaped candies he sees from the street vendors. On the bus, he cannot help but feel outcasted by how everyone comes and goes in two while he sits alone in the farthest seat. He tried not to be a bitter hater about today's event. But how can he be single right now and there are middle-schoolers holding hands in front of him?

He rolled his eyes as he walked past the young couple who was walking too slow for his liking. Just a few distance from the hotel, he stopped when he got a call from someone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Yoongi. Are you in the hotel right now?" Art, who's on the other line, asked.

Yoongi continued walking, "Yeah, just arrived. Why?"

Today is meant to be their free day before flying to Thailand tomorrow. He recalls any possible reason why the tour manager would call him today.

"Yeah, uhm, can you check on YN? Callie has been trying to contact her, but she's not answering any texts or calls. She just wants to know how she's doing."

His heart dropped, making him pause near the elevators. He has not really talked with you alone these past few days. You two barely had conversations after that little argument the week after the holiday break.

Yoongi scratched his brow, "Uhm, how about Noah or Akio?"

"They are still on their way to visit Busan. Fred is out of town too," he replied.

Knowing there were no other choices, his shoulder slumped like the whole world fell on it, "Okay, I'll check on her."

"Okay, thank you, Yoongi!" Art sighed in relief. Yoongi heard Cal's relief in the background, thanking him too, "Thanks, Yoongi! Please tell her to text me back."

After saying where your room is, the call ended. Why can't you answer the calls? Yoongi tried contacting you himself when he got in the elevator. Although he knows that you might ignore him, he still tries just to avoid knocking on your door again. But you did not answer. So he got to the floor higher than his and immediately looked for your room.

He felt his heart beating faster when he stopped in front of Room 2202. Chewing on his lip, he raised his finger before the doorbell. He wished he had the same determination when he knocked on your door months ago. He held his breath when he clicked it.

But he got no response. It took him three more tries before hearing footsteps inside and by that time, he was more worried than nervous.

"What— Yoongi?"

Instantly recognizing the person who interrupted your movie marathon, your creased forehead softened up as your shoulders slowly tensed down. Yoongi didn't speak immediately, causing you to just stand there while his eyes scanned your face with lines forming between his brows. You felt like shrinking again under his gaze, wondering if other people feel the same way when your bassist looks at them.

"Were you crying?" he asked since he quickly took notice of your tear-stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and lips.

When you look away, Yoongi can read the embarrassment on your face. He thought you looked cute even though you just cried, but still he was worried by what was the reason behind it. But he didn't want to ask, to cross the line like you said that night. So he didn't.

Instead, he cleared his throat, "Art called me. He said you—"

To see you open the door wider as if you are inviting him to come in is a surprise to him. Your eyes meet, communicating with no verbal words in between. But when your sight starts moving from his eyes to his nose then to his lips. Something in your stomach twists. Before anything happened, you spoke, moving your eyes back up.

"Please, just come in. Someone might see us in the hallway."

Always careful. Yoongi stepped in with the same brown bag in his hand. He waited for you to close the door before speaking up again.

"Art called me and he wanted me to check on you. Cal is worried you were not answering her calls."

Your lips gaped as you forgot where your phone was. Since you were left alone hours ago, you spent your time watching rom-com movies, including the one you were just crying about before Yoongi knocked.

"Wait, I'll look for it."

Yoongi watched you rush to your messy bed. He still has not moved from the same spot near the door, like his feet were nailed to the ground. Not less than a minute later, you came back with your phone in hand.

"Just texted her back. I was on DND since last night, I didn't notice," you explained and why were you explaining to him? You don't know.

He didn't say anything and just looked at you blankly. What was to say anyway? You noticed him not really speaking much when you're around. You mean, Yoongi does not really speak a lot, but you observed how quieter he got when the holiday break ended. The eye contact lessened and so did the small bickering you two do in every rehearsal. It feels wrong to annoy you like before again. There are so many times you want to, but you just can't.

You were chewing on your lower lip unconsciously while looking down at the paper bag in his hand, and could not bring yourself to look up. Yoongi silently wondered what was going on inside your creative head.

"What's that?" you broke the silence, referring to the bag.

"Oh... uhm... it's food from my aunt," he replied, lifting the bag. He pulled out one of the Tupperware. "She wanted me to eat more, said I'm getting thinner."

You don't know why, but that made you chuckle. Yoongi smiled upon hearing your little laugh.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, even though it can be a risk over the line you spoke about before.

But instead of reminding him about that stupid line, you replied, "Ice cream is food, right?"

Yoongi clicked his tongue, shaking his head like you were a great disappointment. He pulled out each Tupperware one by one and placed it on the nearby marble counter.

"Have you had these foods before?" he asked and you simply shook your head. "Then, you're going to have them now."

Yoongi didn't care if he crossed that imaginary line because his mom would kill him if he didn't make you eat lunch. Heading to your kitchenette, he looked for a pan and turned on the stove.

"I will just cook the meat. Then, we'll eat this with rice and the side dishes." he explained while putting the meat on the hot surface.

"What... What should I do? Should I help? Do I have to do anything?" you asked, heavily confused.

Yoongi chuckled at your innocent questions, "You can just watch, YN."

And you did while being intrigued and amused at the same time by the unexpected scenario. Just twenty minutes ago, you were crying over Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler. But now, you have your bassist cooking before you.

Yoongi cooked all of the meat since he could not really bring it with him tomorrow. He will make sure to eat them all if you do not enjoy it anyway. There are no plates in the hotel room, so you two had to improvise and use the lids of the Tupperware as plates. It was also a relief that his aunt included chopsticks in the bag.

He noticed how your eyes lit up as he explained the side dishes, particularly the potatoes. He picked one and placed it on your 'plate'. You hummed as you tasted the sweetness on your tongue.

"I love this. So much better than room service!"

He smiled before getting you some kimchi on your plate too. That's when your expression dropped, he noticed.

"It's kimchi. Don't worry, it's good."

"What does it taste like? And how should I eat it?" you asked, staring at the very red dish.

"It's spicy and sour. It can be sweet too. Depends on who made it. But my aunt always preferred it spicier." he explained before eating some. Yeah, it's spicy. "Do you eat spicy food?"

"I like spicy foods, but this one looks really spicy. It's very red."

He laughed, "It's good. Taste it! You can eat it alone, with rice, or meat. Like this."

Yoongi pulled his chair next to yours, simply to make you a lettuce wrap like in a local Korean barbecue place. He didn't sit too close, but sensing his familiar scent once again made your heart jump as you watched him make you a lettuce wrap.

"Here. Say 'ah'." Yoongi opened his mouth demonstrating.

You tried not to smile, your head messing with you again, as you followed his order. He helped you with the lettuce wrap. Immediately after chewing it, there's a burst of flavor in your mouth. The kimchi is spicy, sour, and maybe a little salty. But you liked it.

Yoongi smiled when he saw you nodding your head, "See? It's great, right? You should really listen to me more."

You glared at him before picking up your chopsticks to eat. Eating in comfortable silence, Yoongi quietly observed how you enjoyed the meal he brought, specifically the kimchi. He was pleased to see you munching on the dishes.

"Slow down on the kimchi." he teased you at one point, but you just scrunched your nose at him.

"I should have added matching couple-shirts in my merch during the concert. I would have earned millions here."

After having your late lunch, you and Yoongi found yourselves in the same nook you were sitting at earlier today. You two sat on each corner, looking down on the noisy and busy city moving below. It felt like the events after the afterparty were forgotten for the meantime as you two chatted about 50 First Dates, the movie you were crying about, and how he preferred The Wedding Singer more. There was a debate for a whole twenty minutes about it and you were sure Yoongi just let you win, so you can move to another topic.

"Yeah, on my way here earlier, every couple who will get on the bus wears the same thing. I looked like a sore thumb." he quipped, earning another laugh from you while you took another bite of kimchi.

The side dish was almost completely consumed by you alone, much to Yoongi's surprise.

"I told you to slow down on the kimchi." he teased you again.

"But it's good. Tell your aunt it's good, send her flowers for me," you suggested.

He scoffed, "Oh, my aunt would love hearing that and will probably send you five more Tupperware of this."

"Well, sign me up. I wouldn't mind having stock." you grinned before taking the last piece of radish.

He shook his head, laughing, "And you finished it all."

You carefully placed the empty Tupperware in front of you, raising both of your hands like you were a suspect caught, "Not guilty at all."

"She would really love you." he chuckled, leaning back on the wall of the nook.

"Well, that just means she has a very great taste." you quipped, looking outside.

Mirroring Yoongi, you rested your back on the wall while still looking outside. In contrast to your full and contented stomach, your heart feels light at someone's unexpected appearance in your hotel room. You were so ready to watch movies all day and maybe call for room service for food. A small smile forms on your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi feels the same thing. Mainly, he was happy the food his aunt made did not go to waste and he got to eat it with someone, who obviously enjoyed it. He tried not to chuckle when he saw a spot of the red sauce near your lips. Before he could even stop himself, his thumb gently wiped it off your face.

You held your breath at the sudden touch with your eyes flickering to meet his. He was frozen on the spot, still in the leaned-in position. For a second, the city noise is drawn out. Until he pulled back and you noticed his cheeks have a very slight tint of red.

"Uhm... there was sauce." he mumbled.

"Hmm..." you awkwardly responded looking away.

Silence joined the room again and Yoongi felt like he had gone past the line already. He slapped his head mentally with what he did. The silence reminded him of a scenario that happened at the end of last year. As he feels it getting into him, he gets up.

"I-I should go. We have an early flight tomorrow."

You looked back at him and were always easy to read for him. But, he didn't want to assume that you wanted him to stay based on your eyes alone. But you did, you really did. Maybe for a companion for tonight? You cannot tell, but you enjoyed this casual conversation with him. You can just hope he did too.

"Okay," you replied, almost a whisper.

You watched him gather the Tupperware back into the paper bag, not moving an inch in the nook. You waited for him to look back at you before he leaves, but he was too focused on the fucking Tupperware. So, you just turned your head outside, letting out a sigh.

And just when Yoongi is about to turn the doorknob, he takes one last look at you. His shoulders depleted, seeing you alone while watching the city outside.

"YN?" he called your name and he was unsure if he saw a glimmer of something in your eyes when you turned around. "Good night."

You forced a smile on your lips, "Thank you, Yoongi. Good night."

note | a little preview for the tour's second leg too...

SERIES TAGLIST

kindly check out my taglist rules on my pinned post :)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit @goodnight-n-go-home @ronyiboniyy @jimeg629 @lveegsoi @madussthoughts

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[peachsayshi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁ THE KING  ₊ ⊹ .

(boxer!sukuna x reader)

⊹ tags: ryomen sukuna x female reader; childhood friends; character mentions: uraume - satoru gojo; unresolved tension; sukuna is oh so in love; fluffy but a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; p in v sex; unprotected sex; dry humping; making out; oral sex;

:about: you've known sukuna before he was a world boxing champion, when he was just a scrawny kid who used to hide behind your legs when you were both in kindergarten. sukuna is growing tired of the fame and fortune, and all he really wants is to fall into the arms of the one person who he's always considered his home.

this fic is one shot. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding boxer!sukuna x reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 19K+

Sukuna steps out of the shower, his body wound up in a tight coil after the night's fight. He presses the bridge of his nose together to relieve his throbbing head, but his brow is searing with pain. When he opens his eyes he catches a reflection of his self in the bathroom mirror- a split on his bottom lip, a cut on the arch of his right eyebrow and a slight bruise on his left cheek. 

It's rare for him to look this battered after a match. 

He's been untouchable for years, he's almost forgotten what it's like to take a few good hits in the ring. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" 

His eyes flicker up toward Uraume, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere.  

He shakes his head at his manager. "Nothing happened, I won. Isn't that a good thing?"

Uraume narrows their gaze, sharp like a sly little fox. They can read Sukuna like a book, but Sukuna chooses to play ignorant and brushes off their knowing stare. 

He knows that the inquisition isn't about the sponsors, the money, or the win. 

He also knows that Uraume never asks questions that they don’t know the possible answer to. 

Thankfully, his manager just sighs. 

"The limo is outside waiting to take you to the party," they state, their heavy exhale indicating that they know Sukuna won't own up to what they are trying to prod out of him. 

"Fuck," Sukuna grumbles. The towel hangs low on his hips, and he throws the one that is around his neck onto the ground. He steps outside to the locker room and proceeds to change. He dries off, puts on his boxers and picks up his black t-shirt before pulling it over his bare chest marked with ink. He then tugs on his jeans, and secures his belt around the waist. "Do I have to go to that?" 

Uraume shrugs, "Don't you want to parade your big victory over Satoru Gojo to the rest of the world?" his manager adds, slipping both hands into their pocket as they stride casually toward Sukuna who is merely trying to gather the rest of  his things. 

The last touch is his signature silver chain necklace. He hooks the accessory around his neck, while mentally preparing himself for the crowd waiting for him outside. For the voices that would be screaming out his name, and the obnoxious paparazzi who can't seem to grasp the concept of personal space. 

They all gawk at him like he's a endangered animal at the zoo.  

His chest seizes at the thought. 

He used to gloat over being in the spotlight. He took to stardom with an extreme sense of pride, but the thought of it right now just makes his skin crawl uncomfortably. 

The only thing that Ryomen Sukuna wanted at this very moment, is to go home in fucking peace. 

He’s given the fans and the world what they wanted. 

"Little shit got what was coming to him," he blurts out in response to Uraume. "It'll take him a while to lick his wounds and get over his broken pride..." 

Uraume chuckles, "and I was worried that he might have actually had an advantage over you..." 

Sukuna swallows the sudden lump in his throat. 

God he was fucking tired. His whole body is aching, begging him to get some much needed rest. He hadn’t trained this hard in a long time. The strict diet, the isolation, the strenuous days in the gym and in the training ring slowly started filtering into him in doses. 

"Almost," he admits quietly, a little bitter over the reality of the situation that he was close to losing. "He's good for his age. Really good actually." 

Uraume's face falls at that. "You don't sound like yourself, my king," they tease half-heartedly, addressing Sukuna by yet another title which he earned in the ring. 

"The King", "The Beast", “The Champ”, “Monster of The Ring”…

There was a time when he was younger, when the fire for the fight burned inside him with such intense conviction, that he found dignity in the titles that he's earned from every match. The thrilling sensation of him standing in the middle of the ring, his hands raised with victorious joy as he looked down at his opponent while the crowd would cheer for him like he was a figure of the divine, used to mean a great deal to him. 

But those titles feel…hollow. An old skin which Sukuna unknowingly shrugged off without even realizing it. 

"I'm just exhausted," he breathes with a hint of frustration, giving Uraume a reply after allowing his mind to drift for a few seconds. "I've got a raging headache and my shoulder is killing me." 

He slings his bag over his good arm, before turning to face his manager. 

The pair walk down towards the end of the hallway, and Sukuna can already hear the muffled voices from the press that have slowly gathered inside. He elongates his spine naturally as he holds a domineering pose. He quietly huffs out a breath and tries to steady the uneasiness coursing through his veins. The second the press lay their eyes on him, they stampede towards Sukuna like dogs off their leash. A flash of white and blue flickers around him, disorienting him for a single moment. 

"Hey, champ! How does it feel to knock out Satoru Gojo after everything he said this season?" 

"Way to prove that you're still The Beast of the Ring! What's next for our King?" 

"You've held your championship title for ten consecutive years! How do you go up from here?"

"Sukuna! Sukuna! Is it true that you've just locked in a multi-million dollar deal with Nike?"  

Uraume steadies the crowd, protectively standing in front of Sukuna as they gesture everyone to calm down. 

Despite the sheer difference in their size, Uraume has a natural way of commanding a room. 

That's one thing Sukuna has always been grateful for regarding his manager; Uraume always looked out for his best interest first.  

"Hello, everyone," they politely speak, their voice calm and pleasant. "While we appreciate the enthusiasm; our champion, Ryomen Sukuna, will only be making a single statement. He's had a long night and needs his rest," they announce, before looking over their shoulder and giving Sukuna a nod of approval to say what he needs to say. 

The man is thankful for Uraume every single day. He already informed them earlier that he wasn't interested in any post-match interview or conversations with the press, and Uraume happily obliged by accepting the privacy that he desperately needed. 

Sukuna tightens his grip around the gym bag over his shoulder. He stares at the small audience before him before clearing his throat to speak. "Young fighters like to run their mouth. I know because I used to be one of them. It's easy to be all bark and no bite. But in my case, I came out teeth first-" he states with a patronizing tone, noticing the press eagerly hang onto his every word and even laughing at his snide remark. 

They are waiting for a brutal comment from the badass himself, for him to add the cherry on top of all the shit-talk he’s already dished out. 

But Sukuna acknowledges that there is no place for it now. 

He doesn't need to add more to the hurt he's already caused to Satoru Gojo. 

Everything was settled in the ring, and now it was over. 

"However, I have to admit that this was one of the best fights of my career. I had fun. He's been a thorn by my side but I respect Satoru, and I know he has a brilliant career on the horizon. That's all I have to say about that for now. Have a good night." 

He steps away from the press, who trail at his feet like a pack of rats rattling off question after question as Uraume tries to console their demands. His manager delays their footing, all the while Sukuna finds the rest of his entourage at the arena exit. 

A string of bodyguards help him get through the second crowd of loyal fans who have gathered. They are waving phones in the air, begging for photos and videos. Sukuna obliges with a few, trying his best to fight off the shakes that's starting to make his hand tremble slightly. People lift up their shirts, flash their cleavage and pull out posters, bras and clothes for him to sign. He does so, his signature faltering from a clean string of letters to a fast doodle of his name. His fans offer him flowers, art, and mementos which he takes, and whatever extra he can't carry he hands off to one of his guards. When he's finally had enough of giving himself to the fans, he bids everyone a wave as his bodyguards escort him to the private parking lot in the back of the arena. 

Sukuna doesn't even realize how hard his heart had started hammering until he's embraced back into the quiet again. He feels incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, and he isn't sure if it's the apprehension or the adrenaline wearing off from the fight. The phone in his pocket buzzes, probably Uraume wanting to make sure he's made it safely to his vehicle, but he can’t bring himself to answer the call. 

"Sir," one of his bodyguards states, "There's a VIP who is expecting to see you..." 

"So?" Sukuna scoffs, the black Mercedes in the distance a sanctuary. "I don't want to fucking see them." 

"Well, you see, they insisted. They weren't taking no for an answer." 

"And you would be shit at your job if you just let them roll over you like that," Sukuna begrudgingly replies. 

Sukuna wasn't particularly fond of the VIP guest lists. A majority of them were people who wanted to fawn over him, or simply weasel their way into his pants. The other half were people with deeper pockets trying trying to bargain him into fixing fights so that they can win big bucks on their bets.

Sukuna did not have the time or patience for the latter, and even the former as well. 

Especially tonight. 

"Actually, Sir, she's waiting for you as we speak-" the bodyguard stammers, having to look up when he addresses Sukuna. 

The champion stops abruptly to give him a puzzled stare and a piece of his mind over his bodyguard’s stupidity, but his attention is sharply drawn back to the car when he notices a figure step out of the Mercedes. 

You're wearing a denim skirt, a fitted white top and a pair of black boots. Sukuna’s heart skips a beat, noticing that your hair looks a little different from when he last saw you. A sparkle of silver glitters on your neck that matches his own chain, and you beam at him with a bright smile that steadies his soul.

  The click of your heels echo a little louder from the distance as you approach him, waving your fingers delicately in his direction to say your first hello. Sukuna's feet moves faster than the rest of him. He drops his bag off his shoulder, the gifts in his hands splay across the concrete ground and he scoops you up in his arms before spinning you in the air the second he wraps his arms around you. 

You giggle at his greeting, your body trapped in a blanket of muscle and cologne. Your fingers thread between the strands of his red hair, tears pricking your eyes at the sight of your best and oldest friend. 

Sukuna squeezes you tightly, "they should have just told me it was you by name," he exhales with a hint of annoyance, then carefully places you back down to rest your feet on the ground. 

You laugh under your breath, "Don't worry, I gave them hell for it. I told them that I'm the only VIP who mattered considering I have been on that list the longest...." 

You try to loosen your grip but Sukuna tenses up, so you ease back into his hug. 

He didn’t want to let go just yet. 

And truthfully, neither do you. 

"Hi, princess," he whispers in your ear, his voice deep and thick with fatigue. 

"Hey, 'kuna" you reply softly, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, as your heart beats heavily against his now relaxed chest. 

₊ ⊹ .

The light from the car's backseat illuminates Sukuna's ruggedly handsome face. You cup his jaw between your fingers, and lightly trace your thumb over the cut on his swollen lip. Your eyes track upward and you wince at the gash across his brow. 

"He got a few good hits on you didn't he?" you point out, not as a question necessarily but more as a statement of the obvious. 

"A few good hits doesn't mean shit..." 

"When was the last time you got hit this bad in the ring?" you press. 

"I fight for a living, someone was bound to land a punch someday. Besides, it's not a concern. I had my good luck charm tonight without even knowing it..." he responds with a wolfish grin. 

You jab him playfully in the chest. "You're not made of steel you know? You had me concerned for a second..." 

"I roughed him up too," Sukuna states with a pout, "you're all acting like he walked away completely unscathed..." 

He slings an arm over your shoulder, his strength pushing your body weight to lean closer against his side. You shake your head with disapproval as you press the button to switch off the light above you both. 

The city moves past you in a haze, but you can't stop taking in the man before you. 

Ryomen Sukuna. 

The first time you met him was on the playground of your old kindergarten. You were all outdoors, and you noticed that these two bigger kids were knocking him around. The kindergarten teachers weren't anywhere to be seen. At the clear imbalance of power and with your sheer sense of goodwill, you decided to go over there and help. 

Sukuna had just joined your class only three weeks before that. He was the smallest kid, and had a hard time keeping up with everyone else. Everyone made fun of him and called him "chili crisp"  because of his hair. They teased him constantly for how he looked, how he dressed, and how he spoke and simply refused to play with him. 

Being young and impressionable, you never engaged. But you didn't do anything to help Sukuna either. It made you ache seeing him treated this way, and this time you weren't just going to let it slide anymore. 

Sukuna did nothing to deserve this treatment in the first place. 

However, despite his small stature, Sukuna was a fighter even then. 

He kept getting up even if it meant that he would just be shoved down once again. 

You remember walking up to both those kids and grabbing them by the collar. You yanked them off, placing yourself in between them and Sukuna before scolding them both for their terrible behavior. 

"I'm gonna tell!" you squealed with a furious point of your finger, threatening them with snitching words. "And if I ever see you hurt him, I'm going to make sure everyone knows how bad you are! And you’ll get into so much trouble with the teachers!”

You sharply kicked them both in their heels, and watched the kids scamper off, a little more intimidated now that someone they deemed as an equal threat entered the playing filed. Once they were gone, you turned toward Sukuna who was planted on the concrete ground. He was wiping away his snotty nose and trying to hide his tears. 

You scratched the back of your head nervously, your throat all itchy and tight from the sight of him. 

"You're-you're not a chili crisp," was all you could think of telling him in that moment. You gave him a small but kind smile, before offering him both your hands and helping him on his feet. 

He was a whole head and shoulder shorter than you were back then. His clothes barely hung onto his body. He had to fix up his t-shirt and readjust his shorts. 

"I know that," he answered with irritation, and a scowl that never seemed to have left him. 

You assisted in brushing the dust off him. 

"Your name is Ryo-men Su-ku-na?" you asked, breaking down the pronunciation of his name to make sure you said it correctly. 

He nodded his head quietly. 

You gave him another tender grin, and reached out for his hand before introducing yourself. 

"I know who you are, I'm not stupid." 

You frowned at his sharp response. "I never said you were." 

The two of you stood there facing one another in awkward silence, unsure of how to proceed from the moment. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the next, kicking a random little rock on the ground. "Those kids are stupid." 

"Yeah, they are." He grumbled through gritted teeth. 

"So, if I'm not stupid and you're not stupid, why don't we be friends?" 

Sukuna's eyes widened slightly at your words, like he couldn't believe what you said. 

"Friends?" 

"Yeah!" you squeaked with a little more excitement. "You'll have someone to sit next to and play with every day!" 

He nervously gripped the hem of his tee. 

He never gave you a real response, but the next day he showed up and took a seat right next to you in class.

You were both six years old, and have been insuperable ever since. 

₊ ⊹ .

You press your cheek against his broad shoulder, and Sukuna sighs as his body melts into the leather seat underneath him. His hand gently rubs your own shoulder, with the two of you sitting in silence together as you have done many times before. He instructs the driver to take you both back to his penthouse, disregarding some after party that he's expected to attend. 

At the call, your heart flutters with anticipation because it was a clear sign indicating that he wanted to be alone with you. 

You shivered thinking of the last time that happened. 

It's hard to believe that this version of Sukuna co-exists with the person you've known for a majority of your life. 

The day after he sat next to you in kindergarten, everything changed for the better. 

Sukuna still grimaced at everyone else, but kids no longer picked fights with him and he had a warming smile that was reserved for you alone. 

Whether in class or outside of school, you both spent every spare moment that you could together. You were glued to the hip like two peas in a pod. Your parents adored him, doted on Sukuna despite him resisting their affection. It was only one night, when he was having yet another sleepover at your place, where you finally asked him how is he able to hang out with you all the time. 

Sukuna revealed a truth that broke your heart entirely. 

“Here is better than being home. Usually it's just me..." 

"Just you?" you whispered innocently, "but your mom and dad?" 

You watched him shrink into his blanket with uncertainty. "Don't know. I live with my Grandpa. He works a lot..." 

It's only later in your life where you learnt the full story. 

Sukuna’s parents abandoned him, leaving him with his grandfather to pursue reckless adventures together. At the time Sukuna was only three years old. His grandfather worked hard to provide for the boy, but he was an aging old man and didn’t expect to be responsible for such a young child. Sukuna's grandfather always showed deep gratitude to your parents for helping out and providing Sukuna with another safe space that gave him some much needed stress relief on his end. 

His daughter eventually returned, in tow this time with Sukuna’s half brother Yuji. His dead beat dad was gone for good. But by then Sukuna was already fourteen. 

He’s always had a complex relationship with his family, but things seem to be better with his brother. The two of them could pass off as identical twins, it was almost scary how alike they looked. 

You loved Yuji; he was a living antithesis of his older brother. Always perky, smiling so bright it’s like the sun follows his footsteps. 

Sukuna, on the other hand, carried the shadow and gloom of a waning moon. 

Your childhood and early adolescent years were precious, cherished moments and memories that solidified the strength of your relationship. But despite everything, you were the only person who saw how bright Sukuna's own light could shine. 

The driver finally parks the car in front of one of the most expensive buildings in Tokyo. Sukuna gets out first, and extends a hand into the vehicle to help grab yours. The touch sends tingles up your arm, but you do your best not to read into the reaction just yet. 

The two of you enter the building, passing the security who simply tilts their head in acknowledgment, but from your peripheral vision you notice Sukuna’s eyes shifting around his environment.

“No cameras,” you reassure him with a squeeze to his bicep. “No paparazzi…” 

Sukuna was aware of what he signed up for with fame, but that did not mean that you had to be subjected to the aggressive violation of privacy. 

And after everything that happened, after the horrific clashing of both your worlds, he felt himself breathe a huge sigh of relief. 

“They probably think I am showing up to the victory party,” he answered with gratitude.

The elevator rings, the doors opening as you both step inside. 

Sukuna hits the button to the penthouse suite, and from the way his shoulders slump you can tell there is something off about his demeanor. 

This isn’t the Ryomen you knew who walked away from a fight with the buzz of the winner. 

He’s dimmed. 

A bulb that’s flickering. 

Something’s wrong, you thought, looping your arm around his and keeping your eyes on the numbers increasing as you swallow your concern. 

₊ ⊹ .

Puberty didn’t hit Sukuna; it struck him like a brick over his head. 

At sixteen years old, Sukuna was no longer the loser kid that everyone picked on. He was a tower, a watchful pillar that looked down on those around him with an intimidating stare. All of a sudden this scrawny boy shot up like a tree, his body springing into a new version of himself. His voice broke, dropping octaves lower than the soft tone of what it used to be. His shoulders broadened, lean muscle forming since he spent most of his time wrestling and boxing.  

He became the bad boy that everyone blushed and fawned over. 

The athlete that people admired.

His coaches loved him - called him a prodigy, and a star of the future.

Sukuna carried himself with plenty of self respect, and was extremely well spoken. Outside of his athletics he enjoyed reading and learning history, and his venture into sports only happened because it kept him busy and gave him some much needed space away from his home. He was readjust to a new life with his mom back in the picture, and a brother who was five years younger than him. At first it was simply an escape, but once he settled into the atmosphere of it all, it gave him a sense of structure. Sukuna was diligent about his training and academics, outsmarting and outplaying almost everyone around him. His motivation was fueled with every game and competition, and you quickly saw that Sukuna only had the expectation of being a winner and nothing else. 

Navigating your teenage years was a bit tough for both of you. 

It began with one sleep over just a year prior, the moment where you both recognized that things couldn’t progress as casually as they used to. You woke up tangled in each other’s arms, hyper aware of your bodies and the parts that were blooming. 

Sukuna slept on the sofa every sleep over after that. 

Thanks to your eruptive hormones, the both you bickered often and frequently. As you and Sukuna started understanding your own senses of selves, a hint of distance started to grow. For a long time the two of you only ever had each other, but with Sukuna now a part of the athletic group and you falling in line with your own little clique, the both of you were finding some time away from each other and identifying who you were without the other person around. 

However, you always came back to one another, like two little magnets seeking each other out. 

It’s all you’ve ever known since you were six. 

One afternoon, while hanging out in the school’s basketball court, Sukuna turned to face you as you paced behind him while he was throwing some shots for fun.

“They think you’re my girlfriend,” he casually stated, referencing his new set of friends who always studied you with intense curiosity. 

Your face burned multiple degrees hotter than it should. 

“W-what?” You stammered. 

“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly, and you watched him dribble the basketball as the awkwardness settled.  

“That’s…that’s weird…” was all you could think of adding on. “You told them I am not, right?” 

Sukuna furrowed his brows and hummed. But he nodded his head. 

“Just because we are friends that doesn’t automatically mean that we are “boyfriend and girlfriend”,” you insisted, using air quotes to emphasize your statement. 

Sukuna turned so his back was to you, and tossed the ball directly into the ring. 

“That’s what I told them…” he reassured, but something about his tone didn’t sit right with you. 

The summer that followed - Sukuna’s grandfather, mom and brother took a trip away. Sukuna declined to join since he was participating in a tournament. After his wrestling team came out victorious, he decided to throw a secret bash at his place to celebrate. 

You were there helping him hide away all the fragile items, before staring at him in shock when he placed a few beer cans on his kitchen counter. 

“How did you get that?” You asked in a low whisper, afraid that you both might somehow get caught for doing something that you aren’t supposed to. 

He just gave you a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, Princess…” 

That nickname stuck on you like glue. It’s something Sukuna called you with annoyance when you were both kids, and you used to call him an angry dragon in return. Even though you stopped using that silly term, for some reason Sukuna’s pet name morphed into one of endearment and affection which he kept using. 

“It’s just the team and a couple of girls that the guys have been trying to get with…” he ensured, “The guys wanted the beers, so I managed to sneak some from my grandfather’s stash…” 

“And what if he finds out?” 

Sukuna laughs, “that old man can’t even remember what day it is. I’m sure he won’t notice a few beer cans missing…” 

That night you had your first secret party, your first sip of beer and your first kiss; it was one of those core memories that lingered that was reminiscent of the adrenaline rush from living out the freedom of being young with no responsibilities. You don’t remember who it was who called out the idea of playing seven minutes in heaven, but suddenly all of you were sitting in a circle spinning an empty bottle on Sukuna’s grandfather’s worn rug. Your heart sat at your throat, your eyes fixated on the piece of twirling glass, half wondering who it would land on. You watched as couples disappeared into Sukuna’s room, everyone snickering in a circle thinking about what the potential couples could possibly be doing. 

The boys were crude with their commentary, and the girls giggled with feign disgust. 

Some people came out looking displeased, clearly unamused by what they experienced, while others had a look of euphoria on their faces. 

When the bottle landed on you, the first person you found yourself seeking out was Sukuna. 

However, the other end of the bottle wasn’t pointing to him, but to one of his teammates. 

His friend’s eyes widen with intrigue, a cute smile forming on his pouty lips. 

Your own cheeks warmed with curiosity. 

He helped you onto your feet, but the two of you were struck with an abrupt question that had you pausing your movements. 

“Do you want to do this?” Sukuna pointedly asked, his focus on you alone and no one else. 

There was a grave but serious look resting firmly on his face. 

Something about his stare made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t place why. With the eyes of everyone else on you and his teammate, you instantly wanted to divert the intense attention elsewhere. 

“Of course!” You said with a casual shrug, then grabbed his teammate’s hand and led him into Sukuna’s bedroom. 

You’ve been in here countless of times, never once feeling uncomfortable in this space. But this time, you were quite aware of the state of his bed, of the slightly rumpled sheets that were tugged from edge to edge. Your mouth went dry, your body suddenly trying to recollect every movie, book and comic that explained or depicted the intimacies between two people. 

Two hands touched your waist, spinning you on your feet. 

“Time’s ticking,” his friend said. “We shouldn’t waste it…” 

“I’ve never done this before…” you blurted out. 

“I haven’t either…” he answered kindly, and that made you feel better. 

“Okay…” you said, before placing your hands awkwardly on his shoulder. 

“Let’s just start with a kiss…” he suggested and then leaned forward. 

You were frozen then, unsure of what to do. You stood there with wide eyes as you felt his lips on yours, the sensation making your belly tingle. 

He pulled away. 

“That wasn’t too bed…” you admitted and he laughed. 

“Do you want to try?” He asked. 

Your first initiated kiss wasn’t magical, nor was it horrendous as some of your other friends experienced. Even now when you think about it - the only memory that hits you is one of innocent exploration. It took a minute for you to get comfortable with his prodding tongue, to figure out the clash between lips and teeth, and to allow his wet muscle to access our mouth and glide over your own. The sensation reminded you of sticky, tacky popsicles that clung to your lips in summers past. 

It was fun…until a loud bang startled you both, making you split from each other’s arms like opposing forces. 

“Time’s up,” Sukuna growled, before barging in without even so much as asking if you were decent like he did with the other pairs. 

The look he gave his teammate was terrifying, even you couldn’t help but gulp. 

His friend let out a nervous giggle, scratching the back of his head as he scurried his way out. “Damn, that was fast!” He tittered nervously, his voice cracking slightly towards the end. 

Sukuna narrowed his gaze as he watched him leave the room. Meanwhile, you both stood there facing each other, noticing his nostrils flaring as your breath rose and fell. 

“What?” You questioned, returning his hard stare with an even stronger glare. 

He huffed out a breath through his nose, “are you okay?” he asked, in an attempt to compose his clearly frazzled state. 

“Yes!” You blurted back, a little shaken. “Was that even seven minutes?” 

Sukuna grimaced, holding onto your eyes before he stormed out of his room, scoffing with annoyance at your response. 

Neither of you really spoke about the awkwardness of that moment, and instead carried into the heat of that summer like nothing even happened. 

But, what did hurt you after that, was that Sukuna never invited you to any of his “parties” again. 

He fibbed and said it was just “a team thing”, but you eventually heard about the other attendees at the party, and only through the grapevine found out about Sukuna’s first kiss.

It felt like a betrayal in its own way, this sudden shakiness in your friendship as uncertain as tectonic plates waiting to crash into a shattering earthquake. 

You called him one night to confront him, asking him why he wouldn’t tell you about his first kiss when you both should be able to talk about everything. But that conversation just resulted in an argument, a blow out that felt like a collapse in your world. 

You both didn’t speak to each other until the end of that summer, when Sukuna finally waved the white flag by crawling to your front door late one evening with some ice cream as a peace offering. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, while you both sat on the sidewalk, scooping wooden spoons into the tub of vanilla with chocolate chips. 

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you. 

Even when you were kids, Sukuna refused to ever say he was sorry. 

He would just pout angrily before over compensating with his sweetness to show you that he didn’t mean it. 

But not this time. 

You licked the vanilla off the spoon, biting down on the rich chocolate chunks, and hoping that the tears wouldn’t fall from your eyes from how your chest swelled at his remorse. 

Sukuna draped an arm around your shoulder, “I hate that things have been weird between us.” 

“You made them weird…” you mumbled and he just sighed. 

“‘Yes,” he begrudgingly admitted, “yes, I did…” 

You turned to look up at him, and he gave you a solemn smile. 

“I’m a little possessive of you, I realize…” he explained, his lips forming into that small frown, mirroring his childlike expression. 

“A little?” you answered back with a snarky tone. 

“You’re my best friend,” he admitted, his eyes downcast with regret. “You have always been my person.” 

“You’re my person too, ‘kuna…” you murmured, “but…but being best friends means that we have to trust each other. That we can’t just…hurt each other. That we should stop being honest or talking to one another when things get bad…that we can’t face things that make us…I don’t know, feel weird and stuff…” 

He rested his chin on the top of your head, the two of you finally bridging the gap of what seemed to be the first real challenge of your friendship. 

“It was a shit kiss…” he sighed, “I was just too fucking embarrassed to tell you.” 

You gazed up at him from underneath your lashes. 

“Why?” You said with a light laugh.  

Sukuna’s attention dipped to your mouth for a split second and back to your eyes again. “I don’t know. You just seemed to have enjoyed yours in comparison. I felt like I lost a game or something. I didn’t want to admit that mine was awkward and wet and just…not fucking good…” 

You laughed at that. 

“Everything with you is a competition…” 

“Not everything…” 

You nudged his stomach playfully with your elbow. “Do you remember when we played Mario Kart for the first time? When you lost three rounds in a row and nearly ripped my head off?” 

“How was I supposed to know you are freakishly good at that game?” 

You laughed, “I stay the reigning champion of rainbow road!” 

“You stay a pain in my ass…” 

You rolled your eyes, “a pain in your ass that will never leave you, so stop complaining about it…” 

Sukuna exhales, “It was…a bad kiss,” he admitted shyly, “She was so damn skittish, and I think I was too. I didn’t…I didn’t think it would be so…ugh. It was just not the right person…” 

“Or maybe you were just nervous…” you answered honestly. 

Sukuna shook his head. 

“No, I know it wasn’t the right person…” he said with confidence. 

You unraveled from his hold for a moment to look deep into those heated eyes. 

“Can I say something?” he questioned, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, a blush you’ve seen before but never realized how adorable it actually looked on him until this moment. 

“Anything”

“I don’t want you to think I am being weird or take this the wrong way…” Sukuna explained, pausing for a single breath before continuing. “I just thought the first person I would’ve kissed would have been…well, you… 

The world went still in that moment. All you could hear was the soft rustle of the trees in the distance, and all you could see was the open vulnerability of Sukuna’s heart resting on his face. 

It’s incredibly rare for him to even show it, your friend guarding that part of himself with such conviction. 

“Oh…” 

“But then I realized that you’re not supposed to be kissing your best friend,” he added on, stomping on the spark that flickered between you both before it even had a chance to even light. 

“No,” you agreed quickly, your eyes darting to the tub of ice cream. You pressed the back of your spoon into the creamy texture, doing your best to ignore the sudden pulse in your chest. 

“My second kiss was a lot better that’s for sure…” Sukuna rambled on, digging his spoon around yours as he scooped himself another serving of ice cream. “Way better actually…and on round three I think I got the hang of it…” 

You swallowed the tiny lump in your throat. “I don’t need to know the gross details, please,” you implored, though your stomach rolled with a hint of nausea at the reality that he’s kissed more people than you expected. 

You never admitted it out loud, but the confession made you a little jealous. 

If you were an option in his head…why didn’t he just ask? 

₊ ⊹ .

. 

Sukuna lost his virginity to a freshman college student a year later when he snuck into a party with two of his former teammates. You lost yours on the night of your graduation party to the same boy you kissed for the first time. You and Sukuna were expected to attend the same university (with him obtaining a full scholarship for academic excellence), but your friend had deviated from the shared path after being scouted. The two of you commuted to see each other often, with you visiting him when he was training and him stopping by the campus whenever he had free time. 

You and Sukuna knew about the other person’s intimate lives from the stories you shared, and despite continuously being plagued with constant accusations of being “more than friends”, you both agreed never to allow that discomforting prospect to intervene with your friendship again after that terribly awkward summer.

Rather than ignore the fact that you were growing to be even more beautiful by the day, Sukuna just became extremely blunt around you. He didn’t hide his eyes checking you out, noticing how your curves were starting to fill out and how you began to mature into your own features. He confidently spoke about how attractive you were, and often boosted your ego in ways that only enhanced your own confidence. 

You enjoyed reminding him that once upon a time he thought “girls were disgusting” and “looked funny”. 

“Let’s not forget I am the first guy to marry you,” he joked, recalling a game you both used to play where you pretended to be characters from a fantasy realm. 

“Actually you were the first dragon to marry me,” you clarified, because Sukuna loathed the prospect of playing a prince. “I don’t really think it counts…” 

“Maybe not - but all these guys fawning over you are going to find out you’re some kind of monster fucker and start running in the other direction…” 

It was safe to say that the banter between you both never changed.

You on the other hand, were recognizing just how handsome Sukuna was becoming too. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times up until this point, but something about watching the definition of muscle build into his new physique, and noticing the way manhood slowly enveloped his body, began to hit you in different ways. This was especially noticeable when you would watch him train in the ring, paying attention to the fact that Sukuna wasn’t built just like any average person. It didn’t even occur to you how incredibly strong he had become until he would lift or move your body around like you were weightless and not a living, breathing human with physical mass. 

One evening, while you both were walking back to your dorm from a dinner at a cheap ramen bar, Sukuna had the audacity to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder because “you couldn’t keep up with his pace”. 

All of a sudden, you were acutely aware that the scrawny boy that you used to protect was now all grown up. 

Sukuna morphed into brick and stone, while you were merely glass. 

For some reason, it put a strain on your heart. 

You guys really weren’t kids anymore. 

This was only solidified a year and a half into his career when Sukuna fought in his first professional tournament at twenty years old. The man dominated the ring against his opponent. He broke the record of the most knock outs and became a household name almost overnight. 

“The King”

Time moved at double speed after that. 

Your fingers that were clinging to bits of nostalgia weren’t able to keep them from it slipping between your grasp. Things were happening in a blur, and the sudden shift in Sukuna’s world felt like a birthing black hole in your own.

The night before Sukuna was flying off on his first world tour, the two of you were cooped up in your dorm room, snuggled underneath the blanket like you used to be when you were both kids. 

This time, it wasn’t awkward. 

You had both experienced love and lust in different ways up until that point. 

You knew that being this close didn’t have to mean anything risqué. 

You were comfortable with yourselves far more than you were five years ago.

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you all the time,” you whispered with a sniffle, while Sukuna traced the shell of your ear. 

Two silver chains mirrored one another, one on your neck and the other on his. It was your parting gift to him, a reminder to keep a piece of each other around when you couldn’t be together. 

You assumed Sukuna would find it stupid, but instead he clasped the necklace around himself before doing the same for you in silent contemplation. 

“I’ll keep in touch, brat” he soothed, but you could hear the ache in his voice too.

You circled your arms around his neck, eagerly clinging onto him as closely as you could for the little time you had. 

“I am really proud of you though,” you spoke, your shaky breath against his collar bone, a tear rolling down your cheek as you inhaled the herby scent of his soap. 

“I’m paying off your loans when the money really starts rolling in,” he chuckled against your temple. 

You shook your head with disapproval. “Just buy your grandpa something nice,” you insisted. “And make sure to spoil Yuji…” 

“That kid’s already spoiled…”

“But he’s a sweetheart,” you emphasized, “and I know he’s probably going to miss you more than me…” 

Sukuna hummed. “I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

You tilted your chin up as he dropped his head down, your noses merely inches apart. You relaxed the muscles on your face, your thumb reaching to smooth the crease from between his brows. 

“God knows what would have happened if you didn’t save my sorry ass back when we were kids…” he said with an easy smile. 

“You would have eventually fought back,” you giggled, “besides, you don’t need me protecting you anymore…” you pointed out, your voice a little breathless, and your anxious mind running on the concern of if you might even fit into Sukuna’s new life after this. 

He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into the seam of his frame. 

“I always need you,” he confessed, and those words were enough to make you break as the pain of his departure finally collided into you. 

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna went off to having an extremely successful boxing career. 

At twenty-two, he had turned into one of the hottest sports stars the industry has ever seen. 

He had win after his win under his belt, and the second he partnered with Uraume it was a match made in heaven. 

He was insanely good, and with Uraume by his side, he was now unstoppable. 

You were provided tickets to any of his fights, accompanied with private transportation and accommodation if necessary. Sukuna always made sure that you were well take care of, and you always accepted because it was the only time you were able to actually see him. Those few days were precious together, before you had to depart and return to the real world once again. Each of Sukuna’s fights was a mesmerizing experience. There was something about his flow in the ring that managed to make everything else around him blur. 

He was strong, but agile. 

Brutal but swift with his movements. 

He moved with regal precision, a dancer that understood the rhythms of strength. 

Everyone challenged him, but all of them failed. 

Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with. 

Despite the distance, you and Sukuna always made a conscious effort at keeping in touch with each other. You may not be physically there in each other’s presence, but not a day went by without a phone call or multiple texts.

At twenty-seven, Sukuna was at the peak of his stardom. Your best friend found himself tangled between the world of fame and fortune, alongside his old life of normalcy and humble peace. He made good on his promises; setting up a trust fund to ensure that Yuji was well taken care of in every capacity. He paid off all your loans in secret because he knew you would never accept it from him upfront. He bought his grandfather a home in Osaka for him to retire to. And his peace offering to his mom was renovating their old, broken home into something new and vibrant for her to live her life happily now that she seemed to have finally settled down in her third marriage. Sukuna even offered to take care of his step brother, Choso. They may not have been personally close, but he was grateful that Choso was keeping a watchful eye on Yuji. 

Your own life was starting to unfurl as well - you had graduated university, were experiencing your first serious relationship, navigating various friendships and landing your first job. It all felt normal compared to Sukuna, but the man never minimized your experiences. 

When you were together, it’s like nothing had even changed, but the moment your realities bled into each other, it was a constant reminder of how just how far apart your lives actually were. 

You were harassed by the paparazzi who constantly overstepped. 

Sukuna’s boundaries were crossed by the people you knew because everyone wanted a moment with the star. 

You found yourself in environments with the rich whose beauty, wealth and status seemed far out of your reach. 

Sukuna found himself being treated more like an object than a person. 

And yet, you both seemed to be settling down into your own versions of the life you were creating - always weaving the other person in no matter the obstacle.

At twenty-eight, Sukuna had earned more money than he could even imagine, and was still somehow only moving onwards and up. He was plastered on every magazine cover, was the the center of attention on social media by his most dedicated and loyal fans. He was stalked and obsessed over, admired and feared. Networks wanted to feature him on shows, movies and every talk show. The man was a composition of everything that people were projecting onto him. 

He had become an untouchable to the eyes of every living mortal. 

But to you, and just you - he would always be the little boy who was far too small for this big world. 

After years of flings with influencers, models, and high end socialites - it seemed that Sukuna was finally settling down with one of the top actresses in the industry. The moment the two of them were caught kissing at a party, their secret was revealed to the public. 

You, however, knew all the details of the ways in which Sukuna was slowly wooing her. 

At this point you’ve both grown tolerant of hearing about the other person’s love life. And at this time especially, you weren’t affected by Sukuna’s first serious relationship because you and your boyfriend were discussing the possibility of marriage which felt close on the horizon.  You had just bought your first house, and was considering the big gesture of having him move in with you. You had gotten an incredible promotion at work, and for the first time you felt a sense of stability that you had never really experienced before. 

“We should have dinner together!” You offered one night to Sukuna over the phone. 

“The four of us?” He questioned. 

“Yeah, I mean…you know Sousuke really well…” 

“Yeah, and he hates me…” 

“But I haven’t met Mei yet…and no, Sousuke doesn’t “hate you”…”

“I hate to break it to you, Princess. But the guy can’t stand me…” 

You glanced towards your boyfriend who was sitting on the sofa, his attention on the television show he was watching. You stepped away from the living room, and quietly made your way to the bedroom. 

“’kuna…” you spoke, your throat catching, “I think…I think he might propose…” 

“What?!” He exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away. 

“Jeez! Don’t shout! You’re going to make me pop an ear drum!” 

He groaned. 

You sighed, “we’ve been talking about it…and I just…I just really want you guys to get along is all.  I just think you guys are just not seeing eye to eye…” 

Sukuna remained oddly quiet on the phone. 

“Can you say something?” You begged. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, “we can do dinner at my place. The paparazzi have been hounding me trying to get any shot they can find of me and Mei. I would rather we don't go anywhere public...” 

You smiled, “dinner is perfect!” 

At first glance, the dinner seemed like a complete success. 

The four of you chatted and enjoyed your night like you were all old friends, especially after Sousuke got over his starstruck moment when he met Mei. You and Sukuna told stories of your years together, inviting your partners to the pieces of your lives that you both shared. You could see that Sukuna was clearly attracted to Mei, and in turn he could see that you were happy with Sousuke. The night felt like a convergence without an implosion - an easy going settlement on the two roads that you and your friend had taken. 

That’s why when your boyfriend called things off with you three months later, it took you completely by surprise. 

Nothing in this world could have prepared you for that heartbreak. 

It was a grieving period, a dark time of mourning that had you glued to your bed most days. This life that you had been carefully piecing together toppled like dominos. After breaking the news to Sukuna, you spent two weeks isolating yourself from anything and everything else. 

Your best friend couldn’t stand seeing you in this state, and showed up at your door out of the blue one evening.

You burst into tears at the sight of him.

He was there to mend your broken heart, and he never left your side. He told his team that he was taking a much needed break, and during that time made sure that you were fed and comfortable. He handled any extra chores, slept on the floor in your bedroom every night so that you weren’t alone. He spent hours with you in silence while you wept, listened to you angrily vent your frustrations on how your ex could treat you this way. 

One night, he woke up and realized that you weren’t in bed. He searched for you, finding you in the kitchen staring at a small pile of bridal magazines. 

Your clothes were rumpled, you hadn’t changed or freshened up since that morning. 

Sukuna didn’t say anything, just placed two hands on your shoulders and turn you away from the painful memories. 

You gasped and hiccuped into his chest. 

“I couldn’t sleep…” you explained, “I r-remembered that I still had these, and just…just wanted them gone…” 

Sukuna tenderly stroked the back of your neck. “You know,” he said, his voice deeper than the ocean itself, the tone the texture of velvet. “I can always break his fucking legs…” 

The comment made you choke out a laugh. 

“It’ll ruin your career,” you whimpered. “It’s not worth it…” 

“For you,” he soothed, his thumb lightly tracing the space where the base of your neck and spine connected. “It’s always worth it” 

₊ ⊹ .

The blunder in Sukuna’s career hit early last year, when his relationship with Mei fell apart and resulted in one of the worst break ups that people have ever seen. Mei released a public, viral video that had millions of views and thousands of shares. She accused Sukuna of cheating for the entirety of their two year relationship, crying crocodile tears on camera over how she was simply another trophy that he could successfully claim while his heart always belonged to someone else. 

That video made your blood boil. 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t perfect - but if there was one thing you would never doubt about that man it was his loyalty. 

You saw it towards grandfather, to Yuji, to Uraume, and even yourself. 

That man scoffed at the prospect of cheating, believing it to be a cowardice act. 

And Sukuna was no coward. 

Even in prior relationships, he was always clear about where he stood. If he couldn’t commit to something, he made it perfectly known. You still didn’t know what it was about Mei that had him finally let his walls down. But when they were together, he looked perfectly content. Every desire and every fantasy he dreamt up in his youth had finally been accomplished. But all you knew about their break up was that things weren’t working out, and Sukuna wasn’t willing to share more than that. 

You were being respectful of his privacy, understanding firsthand how tough this kind of heartbreak can be. 

He called you when the Mei's video first broke out, his voice strained. 

“You know it’s not true, right?” He questioned before even saying hello. 

“Ryo, of course I know that-” 

“I’m not a little bitch who would cheat. I would never do that. Nor am I that fucking stupid thinking I would ever get away with it-”

“I know…” you reassured, hearing the apprehension laced through his words. “Ryomen, I know you. I know you better than anyone else in this world.”

He breathed a long sigh of relief. “I was just wondering if you might have been convinced otherwise”  

Your stomach tightened. 

“But if you believe me, then I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” 

Something about that conversation clung onto you, it sat like a weight on your shoulders that you couldn’t quite possibly shrug off. The tabloids, news outlets and social media accounts were throwing ingredients upon ingredients into the rumor pot that was bubbling and boiling over. On top of that, a new rising star had just entered the boxing world, and Sukuna was suddenly dealing with brutal comparisons to the younger, hotter talent that was Satoru Gojo. 

You were the one who offered to take him out to dinner to get his mind off of things, not realizing just how bad it actually was for him. 

When a gossip magazine posted the photos of you both huddled together (as you have done many times before) while having an ordinary dinner, it spun your world inside and out. Though the pictures were quite blurry, there were a few people who were able to recognize you. You were being harassed at your work, interrogated by your friends and were even being accused of being “the other woman”.

The worst part is was when Mei fed into the chaos, making a follow up post and stating that “a woman always knows, and is always right” in regards to her break up situation with Sukuna.

She may not have explicitly said it, but her fingers were pointing at you.  

You don’t know how your address got leaked, but when you started finding paparazzi stalking you in your own home it became far too much for you to handle. 

Sukuna, on the other hand, was infuriated. 

This whole time he was disengaged by what was going on, but once you were caught in the mix of this mess, it seemed that he was suddenly ready to cause equal destruction. 

He sued his ex for defamation, sued multiple media outlets for harassment. He had Higuruma Hiromi, one of the top lawyers in his field, at the helm of this take down, and the second he shot back, it had everyone scurrying in retreat. 

The tabloids, blogs and magazines all redacted the photos of you, reducing your digital footprint. 

His ex, under pressure of Sukuna’s threats, came out with a public apology so that he would drop the charges against her and help her avoid her own PR nightmare. 

The rest of Sukuna’s anger was taken out on the ring, with people seeing another side of what The King could unleash. 

His match against Hajime Kashimo was one of the bloodiest in boxing history, his opponent left crimson and defeated despite seemingly holding a strong front in the beginning. 

They dubbed him: “The Monster of The Ring” after that. 

The damage was already done, and the stress of it all was starting to hurt Sukuna’s focus. When he nearly got disqualified in a match, that is when Uraume intervened, and felt it was necessary to include you in the discussion. 

You’ve always had a complicated relationship with Uraume. They respected you, but you know it’s only because of your mutual relationship with Sukuna. Uraume, however, has made snide remarks  towards you when you were both alone - about how you were merely a distraction when dangled in front of his champion’s eyes.

“I think some time apart would do you both good,” they said. “They are never going to stop hounding you because they think there is something more going on, and besides…we can’t have Sukuna fucking up with Gojo now in the mix. We need to show the world that he’s still as strong and as relevant as ever…” 

“It’ll die down,” Sukuna stated with frustration. 

The both of them bickered over it. It was the first time you have ever witnessed them in a heated exchanged. Your heart started to hurt because you were aware how all of this was only making your best friend see in shades of red. 

He wasn’t himself. 

He wasn’t thinking clearly. 

This was impacting him.  

You getting involved in this was impacting him. 

“Ryomen,” you said seriously, placing your hand over his. “I think Uraume is right…” 

The man turned to you, his fingers lacing between your own subconsciously as he squeezed it tightly in disbelief. 

It was the first time you’ve ever seen him hurt. 

“It’s just a short time apart,” you said with a comforting smile, “once everyone gets bored we can resume our lives in peace. But right now, I can see this taking a toll on you…” 

He furrowed the front of his brows. 

“Uraume is looking out for you, and I think what they are saying makes sense. Don’t you?” 

“No, I fucking don’t…” he snapped, his eyes glaring at his manager who remained stoic as ever. 

“Don’t let your emotions get the better of you,” they remarked, “I know a part of you agrees with what I have to say.” 

“You’re not in the right state of mind, and you need to be” 

“It’s for your own good,” Uraume insisted. "You are gambling with your career. With your legacy"

The decision was mutual but entirely heartbreaking all the same. Sukuna drew the circus away, and it broke you when you realized that in order to protect you, he had to sacrifice something in return. 

The comfort of your friendship, the sanctuary of your company.

It was the price of fame, and one that he was willing to keep paying. 

As a result of this tough decision, Sukuna had grown cold. Not because he was being mean or cruel, but because he thought he was offering you some peace of mind. Because he thought that by withdrawing from you, it would make the pain of the separation easier. He wanted this distance to be a clean break for the both of you, and while he honored keeping in touch, it was just at the bare minimum because his calls and texts were few and far between. 

The most you saw of him was on a screen, and you could see that Sukuna was miserable. 

He was turning into something vicious in the ring, a violent machine that people glorified. He wasn’t moving with the fluidity of an artist that you used to admire when you first started watching him fight. There was a sense of brutality that was now a part of his make up. 

Sukuna was no longer a man, he was a beast. 

His persona was dwindling into only intimidation. Every interview, every guest appearance, and every social occasion was met with detachments or disinterest. He was growing snarky and irritable, no longer willing to charm the people around him. 

Satoru Gojo was the first to shoot at Sukuna with his words, dredging up his painful break up and even dragging you back into the fold with his commentary. The two of them grew to have a very intense rivalry. They exchanged heated arguments on social media, smack talked the other person in live interviews and had tense interactions in public. 

The press and the people were eating up every single second of it.

On the eve of his thirty-first birthday, you received a call from Uraume. 

“We are back in the city,” they said, “Sukuna needs to start training up for his match against Satoru Gojo.” 

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. 

“Why didn’t he tell me he was back?” You asked softly. 

Uraume sighed, “I don’t have to tell you that he’s been in a fowl mood. The agency is throwing a huge birthday party for him tonight which he is refusing to attend…” 

“So, why are you calling me?” 

“Because…” Uraume sighed, “he’s about to fly to close to the sun, and I can see he needs an anchor to bring him down to Earth a little bit…” 

Your cheeks burned at the statement. “Are you saying I am his anchor?” 

“I am saying it’s been almost a year since he last saw you…” Uraume explained, “And I don’t want him feeling awful on his birthday. I care about him too, you know?” 

You nodded your head, “No, of course. I know that.” 

“I told him that I would stop by to pick him up for the party, but I think giving him a nice surprise might do him so good. Remind the guy to enjoy himself a little…” 

“You’re sweet,” you said with a smile. 

“As are you, my dear,” Uraume replied tenderly. 

“My, my, are you actually giving me a compliment?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” they remarked playfully, and you felt a hint of ease realizing that things might not be as cold between you both as you thought. 

That Uraume was really only ever considering Sukuna's well being first, just like you.

₊ ⊹ .

Uraume made sure that you got to Sukuna’s place in one piece and without anyone knowing that you were even there. You clasped your best friend's present between your fingers, your exposed body shivering from the cold air as you rode the elevator up to his penthouse apartment.

It felt right to dress up; you wore a white mini dress with a mesh overlay that had little embroidered detailing on the fabric. There were cut outs in the back, with an adjustable strap from behind cinching the bodice perfectly to your shape. Your kitten heels clicked against the floor, the nerves suddenly tingling their way up your legs as you thought about what Sukuna’s reaction might even be. 

This year felt like a century in the timeline of your friendship. 

You knocked on his door gently, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. 

You could hear the trudge of footsteps from behind the frame, Sukuna’s voice bellowing as he spoke. 

“Uraume, for the last fucking time, I told you I am not going, and if you force it I will fire you on the spot-” 

He swung the door open and froze. 

“Surprise!” You squeaked lightly, awkwardly lifting the gift in your hands. “I got you a present!” 

Sukuna blinked once and then twice, his lips parting as if he’s seen a ghost. 

“Uraume asked me to come,” you explained. “They told me that you guys were back…” 

He stood there dumbfounded, for once rendered completely speechless. 

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth rippling over your skin as the man gave you a once over. His eyes flickered down your body, hovering over all the parts of your exposed skin. Your bare thighs, your décolletage, and up the nape of your neck. 

“T-they wanted you to have fun on your birthday,” you added on with an apprehensive grin, “they actually suggested maybe a quiet night in and thought you might just want to spend it with an old friend instead of a bunch of people you probably don’t even like…” 

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his mouth pressing into a firm line. 

He looked…upset. 

Was he not happy to see you? 

“Uhm,” you mumbled, your fingers toying with the ribbon at the odd dismissal and lack of enthusiasm, “I-I don’t have to stay, but I did just want to wish you a happy birthday…” 

You took a small step forward, holding the present up as an offering. “Happy birthday, ‘Kuna…” you said with a quiet warble in your voice and feeling like a complete idiot for showing up. The disappointment of his response sat heavily on your chest.

He lifted his hand, gripping the present as he plucked it out of your grasp. You cleared your throat, anxiously scratching the back of your ear as you lifted up the strap of your dress which fell on your right shoulder. 

“I’ll just…” you added on in defeat, gesturing behind you to indicate that you were leaving. 

You didn’t even notice his arm sling behind your waist when your eyes fell downcast. 

Suddenly you were pulled over the threshold, the door closing behind you in a bang before your back was pressed up against the wooden frame. Your gaze lifted up to Sukuna, your pupils widening when you you were met with his menacing stare. 

“You know,” you said with a gulp, hoping to the ease the tension as you tried to catch your breath. “You really do look like a dragon when you scowl like that…” 

“Are you stupid?” He spat with irritation. “What if someone saw you come over? We just got the press off our backs…” 

Your pulse hit the base of your throat. “Uraume ensured that no one was around…” 

“I thought we agreed to take time apart…” he argued, ignoring your words. “You agreed.” 

“You’re mad...” You pointed out, the tip of your nose wincing as you pursed your lips. 

“I’m not mad, I’m furious…” he said with irritation. “I’m trying to keep you out of this fucking chaos and you just waltz in, in this sorry excuse of a dress, like everything is perfectly fine?!” 

You looked down at your outfit, and folded your arms over your chest. 

“I…” you spoke, your voice trailing off as your shoulders slumped. 

You didn’t even know if you should apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong and this wasn’t even your idea to begin with. You’ve also never seen Sukuna speak to you this way before, and your confidence bubbled when you recognized that this...wasn’t him. 

You straightened your back, tilting your chin up to face him with defiance. 

You’re the only person in the world who willingly challenges him. 

You don’t even have to raise a fist to watch him break. 

He was pushing you away, the same way he did when you found him on the ground of that kindergarten because that’s what Sukuna does when he’s hurting the most. 

“God, you’re just as miserable as look…” you pointed out with a quirk of your brow. 

His jaw twitched. 

“I don’t give a shit who catches me here,” you boldly claimed, “I miss my best friend…” you added before shoving his shoulder, “and you, you asshole, have no excuse for not telling me that you are back home. Just because I agreed to us spending some time apart, that doesn’t mean you get to just...cut me off like that. To not call me, to barely answer my texts, and to just push me away like I don’t matter to you…” 

Sukuna winced, taking a step closer to seal the gap of space between you both. He brought his head lower, dipping his forehead to press against your own. Your spine seized in that moment, your lips parting feeling the heat of his breath on your skin. 

You were expecting a rebuttal, but this…this wasn’t what you thought would happen. 

“You are a pain in my ass…” he whispered, closing his eyes as he circled his free arm around your waist, “and the only thing that matters to me…” 

He nudged his face closer, so close you swore to yourself that he might kiss you, before tracking his lips along your jaw and cradling his forehead in the crook of your neck instead. 

Your right hand moved him to touch his shoulder, your face contorting with a hint of concern. 

You felt it then, something wet on your skin where his forehead lay, and you took in a sharp breath as Sukuna tightened his arm around your waist. 

“You shouldn’t have come…” he took a deep inhale against your neck, smelling your skin before clearing his throat from any shakiness. 

“You said that already…” you grumbled unamused. 

“Stubborn woman, you never listen...” he breathed in once more, “God, I fucking missed you.” 

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna opened his present once everything was settled, and once he finally embraced the reunion without questioning any other factors. He laughed at your little DIY stress kit that you put together for him. You both ordered in pizza, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa with the open cardboard box between you. You talked, and talked, and talked into the late hours of the night.  Until there were only crumbs on the bottom of the box which Sukuna placed on the coffee table. The bottle of champagne that you have both been nursing was nearly empty. 

Drunk on each other, with a belly full of food and simplistic joy settling in. Sukuna leaned against the arm rest, sprawling his long legs and patting his thigh sweetly. 

“C’mere…” 

Your heart hammered, and you bit the rim of your champagne glass before obliging. 

You stood up, swaying a little and watching his hungry eyes blatantly check you out as you sat on his lap. Sukuna adjusted his position, before dropping his palm on your thigh, his touch stroking up and down your skin. 

“What’s going on with you?” You inquired, placing your elbow on his shoulder as you rested your warm cheek against your palm. 

You were looking at him with concern, noticing his face sink. 

He rubbed one hand over the exhausted expression, an intoxicated blush painting his cheeks. 

“The press are worse than ever. After Mei, it’s been…relentless. The stories they are coming up with, the things that they are saying about me. I went from being on top of the world to being the guy everyone loves to fucking hate. And with every fight I go into, people are just waiting for me to wash up. The cherry on top of this whole fucking thing is Satoru Gojo, who won’t stop running his fucking mouth. I want cut the little shit in half…” 

You smiled, not to be condescending, but out of gratitude that you both easily slipped back into the shell of your own comfort. “Ryomen, he’s twenty-one years old. Do you not remember how you were at that age?” 

He rolled his eyes. “I had more class than he did…” 

“But you were aggressive,” you reminded, “You weren’t afraid to tear down the legends that predated you.” 

“So, what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that maybe Satoru drew inspiration from somewhere…” 

You placed the champagne glass on his chest, your fingers holding the stem as you swirled the liquid around gently. The silence hung in the air because Sukuna knew you were right, but there were other lingering questions pressing you at the same time. And thanks to the alcohol, you had all the courage you needed to ask.

“What happened with Mei?” You wondered, shifting your gaze to meet his. 

Sukuna’s index finger tapped up and down your thigh in contemplation. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. “Nothing.” 

You quirked your brow again, taking a swig of your champagne. 

Sukuna used his free hands to wrap around your own, and he pulled the glass away from you to take a sip himself. 

“Why won’t you tell me?” 

He chugged the rest of your drink, and placed it on the ground beside him. 

“Ryomen…” 

“Don’t push me, brat…” 

“But why not?” You wondered, “I just…it just seemed like you both were so happy and then all of a sudden…” 

He dropped his head back against the arm rest and stared up at the ceiling. From underneath his black shirt you saw the silver chain poking through. 

Your heart tightened. 

You drew one hand on the locket, your finger curling underneath as your thumb tracked over the texture of the necklace. 

“You’re still wearing it…” you mumbled. 

Sukuna faced you. “I never take it off. Only when I have to get in the ring…” His eyes shifted to your exposed, naked neck, and you mindlessly reached for the silver chain that you were currently not wearing. 

“I don’t wear it on certain occasions…” you explained guiltily, “only because I am afraid that I might lose it.” 

“Plus, it wouldn’t go with this dress...” Sukuna nonchalantly added on and you laughed at his comment. 

He sighed in defeat. “The necklace was a small reason,” he opened up. “Mei hated that I wore it all the time. She would badger me about taking it off. The time I spent with you after Sousuke didn’t help…” he added, treading the delicate topic with as much sensitivity as he could, “she accused me for cheating. I told her she needed to back off because you and I had a history that predates her. I told her that if the roles were reversed, you would be there for me because you have always been there for me…” 

Your body froze. 

“She would pick fights with me over everything about you. Finally I had enough, and told her she needed to fucking trust me if this was going to work. But things never went back to the way they used to. It was always up and down with Mei. Finally, when she had enough, she told me that I had a choice to make. Either I cut you off for us to happily together. Or…she leaves…” 

You sat up, staring at him with wide eyes and shock.  

“I’m…” you gasped, “I’m the reason why you both broke up?” 

The guilt struck you harder than you expected, and you looked down at Sukuna’s torso shamefully as you recalled the state of yourself post-break up, thinking of all the moments where you might have potentially stolen precious time away from his former lover. 

“Ryomen, I am so…I am so sorry…” 

Two fingers brushed underneath your chin, and Sukuna lifted your head so you could see him. 

“I picked you,” he confessed, “I picked you.” 

“But-” 

“There is no “but”,” he said with a shake of his. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for over two decades. You are my person. You are my family. You…”, he sighed, “you didn’t deserve what happened afterwards...”

His hands trailed up until his digits caught the hem of your dress. 

“I’m keeping my distance to protect you..."

“But you loved her,” you gasped, “I saw it. I saw you both. I would’ve…I would’ve stepped aside. If I was causing any issues, I would’ve…respected your boundaries. I love you, Ryomen. I just want you to be happy, and if that means that I take a step back-” 

“I did love her,” Sukuna interjected, the heat of gaze flicking upward, the rims slightly red from the alcohol he consumed. “But I love you more…” 

He drew all the air out of your lungs with the slip of his tongue, making you perch yourself up so you were actually looking directly at him. His pupils were dilated, widening as if to give you access to the depths of his soul. In all your years you’ve known him, you don’t think the two of you ever actually exchanged those words. It was always veiled with “I care for you,”, “I adore you,” “You’re my person,” and “this is why we are best friends.” 

But love… 

That felt forbidden to say out loud, even though you both knew that the root of your friendship was only built on love, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to you for the confession to slip so naturally.

You gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, in a way that you haven’t since you were both sixteen years old. 

Wondering…

Considering…

“I don’t…” you said quietly, sitting upright as he shifted beneath you. 

You wound up straddling him, both your hands resting on his shoulders while his own continued to tease the hem of your dress. 

“I don’t know what to say…” you exhaled. 

Sukuna pinched the fabric between his thumb and index finger, allowing the silence to hang for a few minutes before switching the subject. 

“Did you dress up for me?” He joked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his devilish mouth. He slid one hand underneath your dress, making you gasp as his touch moved dangerously high up your thigh. 

“Wanted to look cute,” you murmured, your words lacing tightly together as the champagne danced across your tongue. You felt a pulse radiate between your legs, and you unknowingly clenched much to Sukuna’s amusement.  

“Cute for me?” He coaxed. 

“Cute in general,” you remarked. 

His other hand sprawled across your back, and you knew he was testing his boundaries.

“Ryomen…” you warned, but it only made him break out into a full grin. His irises were drowning in lust and inebriation, and your own were falling in suit. 

The hand on your hip dragged up further, until his fingers brushed over the string of your underwear. You scratched your nails down his chest, feeling your back arch into his palm as you mindlessly rolled your hips.

His lips moved to your ear, that mellifluous voice dangerously close. “Let’s play a game…” 

He squeezed the fat of your hip, his weight lifting you up and the entire room spun as he pinned you underneath him when he switched your positions. He locked you against the plush sofa with his thighs, a throaty laugh coming through from your sudden squeak of surprise. 

“Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Princess...” He teased, his teeth nipping at the side of your throat. “Or you’ll end up being my dinner…” 

Your body vibrated from the sensation of his touch. You gripped his jaw firmly and pulled his face towards you, your brows furrowing at the proclamation of a challenge. 

“It’s not fair to go against a boxing champion,” you argued, your spine curving as Sukuna slipped his other thigh between your legs. 

He dropped his head to the base of your throat, his teeth catching the sensitive spot just above your collar bone, “don’t worry,” he soothed over the gentle bite, “I’ll play fair…”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled through gritted teeth. 

“You’re fault for waltzing into the dragon’s lair…” he alerted, quoting the very same line he used to when you would both play this silly fantasy game together. 

But you’re not wielding plastic swords and entering into the enemies domain with a sense of courage. Now, it felt like playing with fire. Your skin was burning at the contact, at Sukuna’s weight over your throbbing body. When he nibbled on your neck again, your hand gripped onto the back of his head, tugging his hair a little roughly as you pulled him away. 

Sukuna purred. 

“You’ve never been able to beat me…” you teased, giving into the world of make believe just one more time but speaking the truth regarding this fact. “I’ve always been your biggest challenge…” 

“Watch me win tonight,” he pushed with confidence, reaching for your wrist and pinning it above your head. 

“And what are the rules here exactly?” You quipped, your tongue tingling and your body buzzing with excitement and curiosity. “Am I supposed to kill the dragon and win back my castle?” 

Sukuna laughed, his eyes darkening as he pressed his forehead to yours once more. 

“No need to draw any swords. Let’s play a game of submission…” he boldly claimed, and your attention flickered to find his brazen smile burning even brighter on his face. “First person to cum loses” 

“Are you making a move on me?” You light heartedly disputed. 

“Not at all,” Sukuna maintained, but you can tell from his tone that he’s veiling the truth.

There was something hard pressing up against you, and you had a feeling it was a nudge for some relief. 

“It’s the dress isn’t it?” you giggle.

“If you even call it a dress…” 

“Can’t handle a little skin?” 

“I don’t want to shock you by telling you got me half hard just showing up,” he confessed, something unfolding in your drunken stupor. 

“I can feel you…” you sighed, and the man hummed as he molded his body into you.

You felt him twitch, and it made your thighs tremble. 

“We had too much champagne,” you informed. 

“That we did” 

“We should probably stop…” you exhaled, your lashes fluttering when you felt his thigh flex against your cunt. 

“Do you want to?” Sukuna asks, his voice growing serious. His hand on your hip tugs at the string of your underwear, and he releases it with a snap as it pinches back against your skin. 

You licked your lips, your brain too fuzzy to contradict what your heart wanted. “You know I will never back down from a challenge with you…” 

“That's what I like about you,” Sukuna adoringly praises. 

“And we both know you’re going to lose, right?” 

Your throat shrinks, Sukuna’s hand gliding over your pubis to press the drenched spot against your underwear. 

“Don’t underestimate me, Princess,” he advices ominously, “we’ve never played a game like this before.” 

₊ ⊹ .

Clothes had to stay on - that was the rule you both agreed with. 

To keep things fair. 

To keep it…playful. 

Your nipples pebbled, poking hard against the fabric of your dress as Sukuna sucked on the skin of your neck. You knew for a fact that he was leaving a mark there, and all you could do was bite back as his mouth trailed down the column and over the slope of your breast. You whimpered when he tugged at your clothed nipple with with his teeth, making the muscles in your leg seize from the sudden contact. 

You had to do something, and so you reached your hand between your legs to lightly graze over his erection pressing against his sweats. 

Sukuna groaned, and you sniggered at the reaction. 

You lifted your head and neck, bringing your mouth to his own ear. 

“You know,” you seductively stated, your fingers outlining the length of his hard member. “The first time I ever touched myself was after watching you practice in the ring…” 

Sukuna cursed under his breath, your fingers squeezed around his length. You proceeded to stroke the heat of his member, striking hard for your first blow. “And I always do whenever I watch you fight. I get so hot and bothered seeing you in the ring. I even have a a specific vibrator I use…I named it after you…” 

“Fucking hell,” he hissed when you snuck your hand underneath his waistband, bringing your touch even closer as you palmed him over his boxers. 

“I’ve never told you that secret…” you declared, bringing your own teeth to his earlobe which you tugged mercilessly. 

Sukuna lost himself for a moment, making you think this was going to be an easy win. But you heard him steady his breathing, could his muscles flexing as if to tame his own body back from giving in.  

“I heard you once…” he stammered suddenly, closing his eyes as he recollected his memories. “Back when you were living in the dorm. I came over to drop off something, and you…ugh, fuck-…you were in the bathroom…moaning. I thought you were in pain at first, until I realized…” 

Your own cheeks burned at his confession, the surprise making you ease your grip. 

Sukuna grabbed your wrist then and pulled you away from his crotch. He placed it on your breast, and you absentmindedly pinched your nipple as he slid his hand between your legs. He lowered himself down, slithering underneath you and making your ears sting with vexation. He pushed your dress over your thighs, exposing your light colored underwear. The noticeable wet patch made his eyes glitter with satisfaction. 

“I would have jacked off on the spot, but I left. I was clearly intruding on a private matter, but that didn’t stop me from blowing a load the second I made it to my place,” he carries on, bringing his nose and pressing it against your slit. “So fucking sweet…” 

You tried to push his head away, and in response he dragged his tongue over the moist patch on your underwear. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your hips bucking from the sensation. 

“You’re the first person I think of when I touch myself,” he revealed, humming as his tongue lewdly licked over your underwear. 

Your whole lower belly tingled, your arousal only slicking the fabric. 

You needed to distract him from carrying on, but Sukuna hooked two fingers underneath your underwear and tugged them to the side. 

You sat up on your forearms, pressing your thighs against his cheeks to stop him from diving in. 

“Don’t cheat,” you sternly addressed, but Sukuna only scoffed vindictively. 

“You’re still wearing them, Princess…” he pointed out, and the loophole made your core pulse with anticipation. “This isn’t cheating…” 

With your panties tugged aside, Sukuna used two fingers to spread the lips apart. 

He was staring at your pussy, studying it like it was the first one he’s ever looked at. 

You wanted to say something, to ask what he was doing. But to your surprise he just placed a gentle kiss on your clit before murmuring sweetly into your sex. “You’re beautiful,” Sukuna complimented, as if expressing a blessing before a meal then finally dragging his wet tongue up along the slit of your exposed pussy. 

“You’re ch-cheating…” was all you could think of blubbering out in the haze of lust, feeling the vibration of his laugh as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder. 

It hits you then - the fact that this man indulges in going down on women. Though he never explicitly shared all the lewd details with his past partners, he did mention how it was “his favorite thing to do”. After all these years, you finally get to experience it for yourself. Feel how he latches onto your pussy as your arousal drips like he’s pouring honey out of the jar and slurping the sticky, creamy essence. You whine when he prods his tongue between your folds, expertly sliding the muscle as he rolls it in gentle waves to stir a budding orgasm. Your fingers intertwine around his locks, reading to yank him off until he slurps and sucks in just the right spot that has you simply massaging his scalp instead. 

“…’kuna~…” you mewl, your nails dragging over his scalp. 

The man circles his mouth over your tender clit, sucking on the bud before pressing another kiss on the nub. 

Your pussy throbs when he pulls away, but you were proud for holding back. 

It was your opportunity to distract him, and you shrugged off one of your straps to pull down your dress to expose your left breast. Sukuna’s attention flickered upward, watching you tweak at the hard nub as you gave him a shy grin. 

“The felt really good,” you breathily whined. 

He began crawling his way back up, and you used this opportunity to lift your body upright. He was distracted, wasn't even thinking about you finding a way out of this position. His lips instantly latched onto your nipple, his hands gripping the fat of your ass as he sucked on the point feverishly. 

You licked your lips, doing everything in your power not to fall back into the black hole of his gripping dominance.

When he released you, you instantly pushed his back against the couch and climbed on top of him so you were safely straddling him again. You forcefully dragged your wet cunt over his erection, leaving a little trail of you to stain the fabric of his pants. Sukuna grunted with pleasure, bucking his hips as you ground yours. 

“You’re not as sharp with me,” you giggled, languidly gliding your cunt over his begging member. 

“Because you’re fucking distracting,” Sukuna grieves, his hands clenching into tight balls by his side as he refuses to grab onto your ass and push for more friction. 

You felt him sink, using his shoulders as leverage to keep you perched in just the right position so your pussy was rubbing over his cock. You bit back a sound of pleasure from leaving you, and instead exhale softly as you continue rocking back and forth. 

“You’re big everywhere aren’t you,” you tantalized, noting the way his jaw tense as a rumble erupted from his chest in a deep groan which morphed into a slightly sinister laugh. 

“Let me show you.” 

He lifted his hips, making you pause at the sudden awkward shift. He pushed his sweat pants down just to meet the end of his boxers. The removal of the first layer was a small relief, but your eyes widened as he settled back down. His erection was tenting, pressing up against the thin black material and making you see a clear distinction of his balls and thick shaft. 

“Go on then,” he tempted. 

Your could feel yourself getting wet. The tightness in your belly only contracting further. 

You stared him down, knowing full well that he was manipulating you at that very moment. 

“Why stop there?” You rebutted. 

You helped pulled out the weight of his heavy cock from the restraint, watching his length smack against his lower belly as the tip dribbled with cum. Sukuna moaned when your thumb pressed against the slit, your touch dragging back and forth as you aligned yourself. 

The sounds of your panting breaths were far too loud in this quiet room. You hesitated for a minute before lowering yourself, pressing the fat tip at your entrance. You gulped down air from the stretch alone, your arousal enough lubricant for your take him. You sank, your attention on Sukuna’s whose eyes were honed in on the point of contact of your sexes. 

When your pelvis finally kiss his own, when your bodies were merged into one, you felt two hands seek your waist as you trembled in his arms. 

Your dress had fallen back over, covering him buried inside you. You were looking up at him now as his chest rose to press yours.

A puzzle piece finally connecting. 

He twitched inside you, and you clenched around his length, but neither of you moved. You forgot, for a moment, that this was just a game. That the two of you were probably going to wake up tomorrow morning not being able to face the other person. Your heart was racing, your body begging for movement but you couldn’t snap yourself out of the bold decision you already made. 

Sukuna was looking deep into our eyes, the sparkle behind his own irises making you think of embers on winter night. 

His hands slipped up your waist, over the curves of your breast and up on the length of your neck. He held your head between his palms, the tips of his thumbs lightly caressing your cheeks, with his fingers to the back of your neck. He tilted his head down slightly, his nose brushing against the bridge of yours and he did something that caught you entirely off guard. 

His lips were warm on yours, the kiss the softest gesture you’ve ever experienced from him. He held a firm kiss at first, long enough until you were crumbling apart. You parted your mouth, granting him entrance and he swiped his tongue to lick the inside. He was tracing your own, his wet and wanting mouth only growing more hungry as you eagerly accepted his kiss. Your heart hammered heavily in your chest, and goosebumps peaked all over your skin when you felt his thumbs gently caress the soft skin of your cheeks. 

You’ve never been kissed like this before. Never felt bursts of light erupt from behind your eyelids or your stomach explode with fireworks. This always just fun foreplay for you, but nothing that would make you quiver in heat. You almost came on the spot from this one little act that you’ve imagined since you were sixteen, the one which you thought would never occur because of an unspoken rule on boundaries. But it was finally happening, and it was far too magical for you to even comprehend. 

He swallowed your moan, tasted how sweet your desire actually was. The kiss was getting heated, your walls tightening around his cock His lips wrapped around your tongue. He sucked on it, before sliding his own back over yours. 

You felt so weak; were reminded that you truly were just a fragile thing in his arms and nothing more. 

He pulled away, a string of saliva sticking from his lips to yours but you shook your head as you circled your hands around his wrists. 

“More,” you cried desperately without thinking. 

Sukuna smiled against your mouth and obliged. 

You don’t know how long you both sat there making out. But every time he tried to pull you away you sighed “again,”, or moaned “don’t stop”. You didn’t even consider kissing to be an option on the table, but the more you were getting turned on the further your guard went down. Your hips started to bounce lightly, your pussy so bothered that it wanted some relief. You started fucking yourself over his length, your mouth battling with lips, teeth and tongue in a very heated stand off. Sukuna relaxed his body against the sofa, noticing you melt over him like you were wax. Your hips were moving up and down, your tongue languidly rolling around his mouth. You could feel Sukuna moving with you, bucking his hips in return. His jerks were growing sharper, his hands dropping back down to your hips to keep you in place. Your foreheads were touching, lips parting, panting heavily as you climbed and higher. The two of you were lost in the moment, forgetting everything else that led up to this. 

You were going to lose this one, you thought, and you didn’t even care. 

Your head was spinning, your heart bursting, and you reached to hold his jaw in your hand out of desperation, hoping that by clinging to him it meant that you wouldn’t disappear into the haze of it all. Entirely overwhelmed by the feeling, by this particular connection, your eyes started to water, with tears falling as your nose grew stuffy. 

“Ryomen~” you begged, your dulcet voice full of affection. The tip of his cock hit your sweetest spot and at that point you knew you were done for. 

But Sukuna jerked his hips, the groan that ripped out of him made your belly spasm. He pulled out fast, shooting his cum all over you. Your orgasm collapsed into you just seconds after, and the two of you were shaking against one another as you tried to reorient yourselves to the present. 

You were a mess, and so was he. 

Two hands found your thighs as your torso collided into his. You placed one hand on the base of his neck, and rested your cheek against the crook.  

“You lost,” you joked with a sniffle, because you were unsure what to say, and because you realized you had just fucked your best friend and had no idea what that meant. 

Sukuna just grinned, flashing you a knowing smile and a devilish smirk. 

He perched your chin under his fingers, tapping the end sweetly. 

“Doesn’t feel like I did,” he breathed, and your eyes glittered once more. 

You arched up to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t know a dragon could kiss this well…” 

Sukuna chuckled, bumping the tip of his nose to yours affectionately as he tilted his head down. “I’ve had time to practice.” 

You sighed into another kiss, “What did we do, Ryomen?” 

“Something we should have done a long time ago…” he responded in between. 

“You love me…” you breathed. 

“And you’re surprised?” He interrupted with another kiss. 

“I don’t know what that means…” 

He nipped at your bottom lip. “It means what it means. I love you. Fuck, enough that I nearly fucking came inside you without thinking. You haven’t been around and I feel like I've lost my goddamn mind in just a year…” 

Your nails dragged down his chest your heart leaping its way up your throat. 

“I love you too,” you revealed. “I love you, Ryomen. And I missed you too."

You both fell asleep on the sofa, waking up the next morning and replaying the events of your drunken stupor. After you both cleaned up and showered, you had a serious conversation over two cups of coffee. Though, you aren’t quite sure how "serious" it was, considering that Sukuna had you sitting on his lip while you were gently stroking his hair.

He revealed that the reason why he didn’t tell you about his return was also partially due to the fact that he was leaving that very night to hop on plane and fly halfway across the world. He couldn't bring himself to see you for only a short stint when he knew he needed far more time together after everything.

“Uraume is right,” he bitterly admitted, “You are a big distraction for me right now, and I have to be in the right headspace for this fight with Gojo” 

“You sound worried,” you pointed out with a furrow of your brows, your hands dragging back his locks as you threaded your digits between the strands to push his hair back from his forehead.

“If he beats me then I am done,” Sukuna blurted, “what I have built will diminish into nothing. I can’t lose to him. It’ll cost me my career…” 

Disappointment wrapped its arms around you just as Sukuna loosened his own grip. But you could hear the hint of tiny, tiny fear behind his words was enough to you feel hollow. Sukuna has never felt threatened, but this was a serious fight for him. He’s worked so hard for all of this, and he was not willing to give it up to some punk who just shot into the scene. 

“Why don’t we revisit this after the fight then?” You offered.

He glanced at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." you exhaled, "what if maybe we just need to wait a little longer before we allow ourselves to have this..."

Sukuna paused for a moment. “You’d wait for me?” He asked. 

A smile ticks at the corner of your mouth. “Yes, because you always come back to me” 

“That I do” he responds

You brush your fingers under his chin, tilting it upward once more to receive another kiss. “I’ll wait for you,” you ensure. "Because I'll always come back to you too."

₊ ⊹ .

One hand slides into the front pocket of your denim skirt, and Sukuna rests his chin on top of your head. You smile to yourself, though he can’t see it, because he’s busy watching you slice bits of fruit as you place it into one of his ceramic bowls. When you were kids, Sukuna would have to look around your arm whenever he hugged you from behind. The years show the evolution of this gesture, from him suddenly perching over your shoulder until he could simply see over your crown. 

He sighs, his other arm curling over your belly as he embraces you. 

“Don’t add the blueberries,” he mumbles. 

You oblige, your back leaning into the breadth of his chest. 

The two of you haven’t touched one another since that faithful night. 

Up until the fight, you and Sukuna simply returned back to the way things used to be. Except this time there were little alterations in your day to day conversations that indicated a shift. 

For one, Sukuna was a flirt. 

You were use to this commentary, but now that your friendship has taken a turn you find your cheeks growing heated more often around him because his words weren't gray. What he says toward you, and the way he compliments you rings very, very true.  There is also a deep tenderness for one another that you both are finally allowing to express freely. You don't dull your affection, and instead allow it to overflow. And last of all, the longing to be back together was pathetically obvious. 

You placed the strawberries, sliced peaches and peeled oranges into the bowl, your fingers a little tacky. “I need to wash my hands,” you indicate, and Sukuna begrudgingly releases you from his hold. 

You’re surprised that he didn’t pounce on you so quickly. 

The two of you only had one other sexual moment just a few months ago. 

Sukuna video called you one evening, his face tight with frustration. 

He was exhausted from training, and even more drained by the press. 

They were claiming that his new “pumped physique” was due to steroid use, and one little rumor had the representatives of the boxing association hounding him like he was a real culprit in this make believe story. Suddenly, his hard work and training was being reduced to the thing that the press claimed him to be: a cheater.

He called you to ensure you that everything was alright. That he was forced to take tests which all came out negative (obviously) and and effectively proved his innocence. 

“I can’t wait to be home,” he breathed with annoyance. “I’m fucking sick of this shit…” 

You were in the bathroom getting ready for bed, gently patting your moisturizer onto your face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you stated, offering him only an apology because it's all you could give. “Is there something I can do to make you feel better?” 

Sukuna arched his brow, his attention hovering in front of the screen. 

“Yeah, you can take off that robe you’re wearing…” he teased. 

You jerked your head to the camera in surprise, noting his cheeky tone. 

“Ha-ha…” you remarked. 

“I’m being serious,” he answered back, his mouth dropping into an instant frown. “I’ve had a shitty day, and I can’t even do the one thing I want to help me relax…” 

You arched your brow. “And what might that be?” 

He revealed his canines, a wolfish grin brightening that handsome face. “Fucking my girl...” 

Your heart thumped, and you swallowed the sudden tightness in your throat. You picked up your lip balm and dabbed your finger into the ointment before gliding it over your bottom lip. 

“Your girl, huh?” You reiterated casually, hoping that Sukuna wouldn’t quite pick up on the catch in your throat. 

“You’re always my girl, even when you weren’t mine to call that…” he added softly, his voice pulling your attention back towards him. 

He wasn’t kidding around, with the look on his face entirely serious. The tips of your ears stung with a heat that you couldn’t explain, and you just had the sudden urge to reach through the screen and pull his face back towards you. 

You wanted to kiss him, to tell him that you always felt like you belonged to him too. 

The two of you an inseparable pair for a reason. 

Instead, you stripped down to reveal your naked form. You perched the camera towards the back for a wider shot, and allowed your body to speak to Sukuna instead. One of your legs was resting on the bathroom sink, the other grounding you on the floor. You had the camera facing your cunt, with your fingers buried deep inside. But it was nothing compared to the stretch of Sukuna’s digits, wasn’t filling you enough to reach you to the pleasurable climax you desired. 

“It’s not enough,” you gasped in between breaths, watching Sukuna passionately jerk off from he other side of the screen, “Need you, ‘kuna~” you whined, “it’s not enough with you…” 

The memory hits you, making your lower belly tighten.

You dry your hands off to face him, only to find the man standing with an expression of guilt on his face. 

The same concern you had earlier when you left the elevator reappeared once more. 

You pick up the fruit bowl from the counter, trying your best not to give the discomfort attention. You offer Sukuna a strawberry, lifting it towards his mouth but he instantly circles his hand around your wrist and pulls it back down.

“I need to tell you something,” 

You scrunch your brows, and place the fruit bowl back onto the counter. 

“What’s wrong?”

Sukuna closes his eyes, a look of shame washing over him. 

You take a step closer, wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest. 

“What’s wrong?” You repeat, coaxing him to speak. 

“I nearly threw the fight tonight.” 

You jerk your head up in shock, your lips parting as your jaw falls from the confession. 

“You…what?” 

Sukuna rubs his tired face with one hand, using every ounce of courage to look back at you. 

“There was a moment in the ring when Satoru threw a relatively decent punch,” he explains, “I had the lights knocked out of me for a split second. When I turned to face him it hit me then...that I could fake dodging his next attack before giving him the opening that he needs to win. One more hit and I’d...collapse. Let the referee do his count, and that would be it…”

You knew the exact moment he was referring to. It was the point in the match where your ears were ringing because you truly thought that you would be witnessing a loss on Sukuna's part. The entire crowd was muttering in shock, all of them on the precipice of a potential shift in legacy. 

“I didn’t follow through because I think Satoru noticed a change in my demeanor. It was only a few seconds, but the kid is fucking sharp. He wasn't smugly determined then, he was looking at me with...confusion. I couldn't do it then. I didn't want him to get a cop out on my end. So, I carried on the fight the way I would. After the match, I thought I could just let the moment pass but Uraume tried to bring it up later and I shut it down because I didn't want to admit it. Anyway, I needed to just get it off my chest…” 

“You were going to give him that win?” You expressed with deep concern, tightening your hold around his waist as you watched Sukuna’s face to turn hard. 

It hits you then - that the Champ, The Monster of The Ring, The Beast and King Himself was…burnt out. Sukuna’s fire had been gone for quite some time, you just thought it would reignite after tonight. 

But it didn't.

You bring your hands to his biceps and caress your palms up and down. 

“Ryomen,” you speak, licking your lips with hesitation before finally asking. “Is this what you still want?” 

Contemplative eyes meet yours as his palms find both your cheeks. He drops his head down, his lips seeking yours as he takes into account the gash on the muscle, then places a careful kiss on your mouth. 

“I just want you,” he hums. 

“M’right here,” you murmur back, “Not going anywhere.” 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he adds on, “that’s all I could think about during the fight. Was just coming home to you, coming home to us…” 

A shiver runs down your back, but your body vibrates with an innocent excitement. “We don’t have to wait anymore,” you whisper. “I’m not going anywhere no matter what happens. No matter what comes next…” 

Sukuna looks at you then, knowing full well what your statement means. 

Once news breaks out of the two of you being an actual item, heaven knows what might happen. If the paparazzi have been plaguing Sukuna like a curse this whole time, it was only going to get even more complicated with you so intimately intertwined in his world. And now that he was back on top as the champion, he knew full well that all eyes were going to remain on him.

From when he was a child, no matter what he believed about his life that would deter you from him. His broken home wasn't enough to push you. His anger wasn't enough to push you. His detachment wasn't enough to push you. The chaos that is his world wasn't enough to push you.

You have always remained solidly by his side.

His constant. The only thing in the world that he can rely on.

“I love you,” he states under his breath, leaning in to peck you for a second time. 

“I love you too,” you repeated with a smile against his lips. 

There was no epic moment around this sober reveal, no exceptional circumstance other than the privacy of it being spoken with no one else to hear it other than the two of you.

You loved one another, in the deepest possible way you could love a person. From there your lips parted, and you carefully kissed the man before you as he scooped you up in his arms. 

He repeated the phrase again when he placed you on the kitchen counter, with his fingers buried deep within the folds of your wet pussy. 

You moaned it back to him after he carried you into his bedroom, with your fists tangled between his hair as he ate you out. 

He grunted it out one last time, with his hand gripping the headboard as he watched your body melt into the matters when he thrusted his dick in and out of you as he made love to you feverishly. 

And you mumbled it back one last time while he held you in his arms, the two of you falling asleep from a very long night of unbridled passion. 

Sukuna was the first to wake at the crack of dawn. He rolled over to grab  his phone from the side table in an attempt to turn off his alarm before it woke you up as well. As he looked at the device, his heart sank. 

A number of notifications were blowing up his phone and it was making him feel dizzy. 

News articles were already painting him in all his glory after his fight with Satoru, with his opponent looking battered in defeat. The press had finally flipped, and suddenly began to revere him the way he deserved to be. There were text messages from an influx of people, either congratulating him or wanting get his thoughts on the match. Sukuna feels the tremor in his hand build as he starts to scroll through the notifications. 

He places the device on the blanket in front of him, his eyes looking out to the large windows as he watches the sky shift from a deep violet to a lilac blue. He turns this head to gaze at you. This image of you by his side, in a position that he’s seen multiple times in his life, feels different now too. The soft glow of new daylight washes over your body, and the stillness of the hour has him believing that he actually made it to heaven. Sukuna places a soft kiss on your forehead, then carefully kicks off the blankets. He searches for his boxers, then pulls on the pair before stepping out into his balcony. 

He calls Uraume. 

Usually they pick up quick, but Sukuna counts down the rings until they do. 

“My King,” they tease, their voice a little groggy. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Sukuna watches a bird fly across the horizon, the ease in his chest an affirmation to what he’s about to say. 

“I’m retiring,” he announces. “I’m done.” 

The silence hangs in the air, streaks of orange and yellow begin to tint the clouds. 

“I had a feeling you were going to say that…” 

“is that why it took you long to answer my call?” 

Uraume huffs out a laugh. “I guess I was hoping for another piece of news…” 

“Are you mad?” Sukuna asks, only honoring Uraume with his worry because he knows how much they have done for him to begin with. 

Uraume sighs, “I’m not actually. It’s the smartest decision you can make. You retire now and you basically leave the game while sitting at the top. You’ve earned that throne, and it won’t be easy for these rookies to take it from you so quickly…” 

Sukuna chuckles, “you’re right about that…” 

Uraume lets the quiet overtake the conversation. “I’ll give it a few days before I break the news to the press.” 

“And then what?” 

“There’s definitely going to be a lot of interviews, and a retirement party that you will have to attend wether you like it or not…” 

“And what about you?” 

Uraume hums, “You and I had a good run. If it’s the end for you, then I guess I can finally retire too..” 

Sukna furrows his brows, his nails scratch over the rail on his balcony. “I don’t want you doing that because of me…” 

Uraume laughs, “You’ve earned my loyalty, what can I say?” 

“Thank you,” Sukuna breathes, “For everything you’ve done for me. You’re more than just a manager, but I think you already know that...” 

“I know it,” Uraume answers back. “And I also know that this is the right decision because you sound…relieved.” 

He hears you then. 

You were calling out to him, “‘kuna, where are you?~” 

He turns his back to face the railing, missing the sun breaking through the horizon at the sound of your voice. He smiles thinking about the adorable, frustrated look on your face when you probably reached out and couldn’t find him, and he slowly begins making his approach back into his bedroom. 

“I am,” he speaks to Uraume, “I’ve got to go. Will talk about this later.” 

He hangs up the phone, and returns to the shadow of deep, restful slumber. He places the phone back on his side table, and smiles at the exact disappointed expression that he pictured when he was outside. 

The second you feel his warmth back in your presence, you snuggle up into his frame. 

“Where did you go?” You mumble with a yawn, and Sukuna wraps his strong arms around you as he nestles back into your body. 

“Nowhere,” he breathes, easing back into your embrace. 

“Heard you talking,” you add on, you eyes still shut but your arm slinking around his neck to keep him close.

It’s taken you both over two decades to get here, and he wasn’t going to allow anything to come in the way of that. “I’ll tell you about it later,” he reassures, keeping his loving eyes on you as he clutches onto his bright, new future with his favorite person.

A life that you both will now get to live in peaceful happiness. 

₊ ⊹ .

:note: hi, everyone! long form fics has been really draining for me these days but these one shots feel like a great refresher. I know this is a monster of a fic, but I hope you enjoy the story. comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags (only tagging those who asked): @after-laughter-come-tears @not-9ok @axxk17 @sukubusss @lavenderdaydream97 @charlie-xo @kunasthiast @celestep004 @brownskinnedgirll @sukunasweetheart @kunascutie @joontroverted @emi311 @yuujispinkhair @starmapz @bellyei

[heinousarrogance1]

the post above was the inspiration for this little fantasy, thanks @cutenbrattyyx for aloowing me to use your post here. A Room to Let 

(TW Non-Consent Fantasy)

One of the great things about living in a college town is the number of sophomore girls eager to get off campus housing.  A house conveniently located within easy walking distance of both the campus and the party strip downtown with a fairly spacious bedroom, with a private bathroom, and run of the rest of the house, a cleaner who comes twice a week, and an almost ridiculously low rent, I have a regular stream of applicants every fall. It’s a pretty easy sell even if I am a single older man.

After showing the room a couple of dozen times, I settled on taking in Jenny as this year’s tenant. A cute but also kind of timid girl, never objecting if I was standing a little too close or looking a little too long.  She showed up to move in the weekend before school started ,  and I handed her the key, gave her the wifi password, and helped her move her boxes upstairs.  The whole fatherly helper vibe.

For the first month all was well, she got comfortable around the house, even hand a couple of friends over for a study group in the dining room,  and enjoyed the absence of an RA giving her shit for stumbling in drunk at 3 AM on the weekends. Now if there is one thing you can count on from young women just out of the nest with too much freedom  it’s overspending. The first of the month rolls around and when I knock on her door and ask about the rent she’s sheepishly admitting she is a bit short and can she have a few days.  Of course Jenny.  We keep up this charade for a week and a half.  And it’s Friday night, I hear the shower run in her bathroom and the sounds of her blow dryer going so I know she's getting ready to go out.

Time for my move.  A quick rap on her door and I open it without warning,barging in  to find my cute little sophomore Jenny taking naked mirror selfies.  I stepped over to her, talking loudly about the overdue rent, but the entire time my eyes were on her lithe naked body.  One hand grabbed the wrist holding her phone,twisting it to see that she was taking photos, not video and the other went to the back of her neck, bending her swiftly over the dressing table.I pinned her down with a grip in her neck, her face almost up against the mirror.  “Rent is Due! Jenny..”

She began to beg, “please no, don’t please.. I’ll get the money..” but I just held her naked body down with one hand  in her hair at the back of her neck, as the other freed my cock. She tried to struggle but pinned down and against the dressing table there was no escape.  I pushed my cock into her and she was already wet. God she was so tight and warm around my cock. “The little slut likes showing off, doesn’t she” I growled in her ear.  

 I slammed into her over and over, each thrust bottoming out painfully inside her unwilling little cunt.   Soon her tears started and her objections and resistance  trailed off into deep wracking sobs, as if her body, if not her mind accepting that this is what had to happen.  That’s when I reached around with one hand to rub her clit, a finger gliding over it in time with each thrust into her. It didn’t take long for the little slut to respond, her hips starting to push back, grinding her ass against my almost of their own volition, which only made the rubbing of her clit more intense. It didn't take long before her tormented body betrayed her, cumming hard as she was raped in her own bedroom. 

 I paused, not wanting to cum yet, holding myself still inside her as she came down, then I  started to thrust again, this time slowly, methodically building her back up towards another orgasm.  Her sobs shifted to moans, and again my hand slipped under her to caress her hard little bud, as I moved slowly inside her. This time her orgasm built more slowly, but finally  came crashing over her in waves, making her body shudder. Her moans were feral, like an animal in heat.  I thrust in deep and began to cum inside her, groaning with the pleasure of taking her like this the first time. I would not be the last.  I picked up her phone, sent a quick text message to her friend group begging off the weekend’s activities because she felt sick. Now I had the whole weekend to fully break her.  It’s going to be fun.

bend me over and r@pe me? 🥺

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][established relationship][oral (f! receiving)][fingering][shower sex][wrongful use of water][wet t-shirt][temple kisses][i don't make the rules, but there's a lot of them][grinding but not where you thinkkk~][maybe food play, idk][just the tip][missionary][mating press]

Wally had a plan.

A good plan, relatively thorough, and romantic. All of which were crucial to whether or not this date would go good.

A good, sweet morning wrapped up in the loving embrace of your arms, paired with the sweet, tightness of your cunt cockwarming him while the sun rises from just below the horizon. With the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair, your lips ghosting over his jaw and murmurs of sweet 'I love you's in the air.

Then, you'd have breakfast that HE learnt how to make. Through numerous WikiHow articles and YouTube tutorials.

Then, you'd go about your day where flowers would be mailed to your job, and the two of you would have a nice lunch. Specifically, a picnic in the park and for dinner, you'd have take-out and the scallions in the soup would be shaped like cute hearts, because if your love is in soup, it's eternal.

But noooooooooooo.

The universe has a fucked up way of ruining the speedster's hopes and dreams.

The takeout place burns down, the flower company doesn't get his order, he oversleeps so he doesn't get to make you the whole, magical experience of cockwarming while he feeds you breakfast.

"I'm sorry." Wally murmurs softly. "I should've planned better."

Rain continues to soak through his shirt, the fabric getting heavier and clinging to his torso in the way that makes your eyes linger, a slow smile spreading on your face as you unabashedly watch the way the shirt sticks to his tightly toned belly. Abs on display in the most demure yet slutty way.

"It's okay."

You reassure softly, although your eyes don't move from where you can see his nipples through his shirt.

"Are you seriously staring at my nipples?" Wally let's out a choked laugh, dimples deepening in his cheeks as he looks down at you, gingery hair wet and clinging to the back of his neck, as well as his forehead.

Your outfit's less soaked than his.

Seeing as he made a makeshift gazebo with his windbreaker, using his speed to his advantage to tie the arms to the lowest hanging branches and tucking either of the ends between messy and spiky edges of the branches.

Too small to accomodate both of you but good enough to keep you from thoroughly soaking your plaid Chanel skirt and you shift, your boots scuffing against the wet grass.

"Yeah." You hum softly. "They're so cute and like, hard."

Reaching out, you press down one of his perky nipples and Wally snorts. "Freak."

"Come stand with me. You're gonna get a cold." You chide Wally with a huff, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him out of the rain, his body pressed against yours and strong, muscular hands move to bracket your hips, his thumbs brushing over the flesh your fluffy knit sweater fails to over and he looks down at you.

Fucking hearts in his eyes.

The moment seems perfect right now. Raindrops pelting around you, the sound of wet grass sloshing underneath your boots as you shift at the feel of nipping cold and a warm hand moves to cup your cheek as Wally leans down, his lips pressed against yours. It's so sweet.

He kisses you like it's the only slow thing he'll ever do. Lips moving against yours in a slow, synchronised motion that you both seem to fall into so flawlessly, his hand on your hip shifts and instead, his arm's wrapped around your waist while your own hands interlace at the nape of his neck.

You can barely hide the giggle that leaves you when you feel the way Wally's hand lowers, taking the sweet and romantic opportunity to slide his hand beneath your skirt. Damp digits paw at the fat of your ass and you pull away.

"Creep." You mock him, nipping at his bottom lip and you see the pretty twinkle of his eyes as he stares down at you, a grin on his face, freckles dusted over his rosy cheeks.

"Guilty." He hums softly, before leaning forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"We should get out of the rain, yeah?" There's a low huskiness to his voice, a sweet yet sultry tone that hints that there's a lot more waiting for you at home than there was waiting for you at the park.

And you nod your head, bashful and adoring as you murmur a soft 'mhm'.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋❤️་༘🎀˚˖𓍢ִ🌹˚.

Hot water sprays down on your skin, and you let out the softest sigh, frozen bones easing at the warmth before the shower door is abruptly opened and Wally stands in all his freckled glory.

Hair still damp from the rain, that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Scoot over." He instructs, but he's already stepping over the threshold of the shower, shutting the door behind him and readjusting the showerhead to spray more in his direction.

Wally's always been a bit of a selfish showerer.

His body nearly presses yours against the tiled walls as he soaks up the scalding water, letting out controlled breaths before meeting your narrowed gaze and he lets out the softest little breath. And he reaches towards the temperature dial, shifting and switching it, until the water's a pleasant, lukewarm temperature before he hums.

"Upsy-daisy." He lifts you with ease, your knees hooked over the crooks of his elbows, your back pressed against his chest and he presses a sloppy kiss against your temple.

"Wally, what are you— oh..." The gruff complaints die in your throat when Wally shifts your body towards the shower stream, your thighs spread obscenely wide as the solid stream of water pelts down against your clit, and you purse your lips, brows knitting at the pleasure that's not quite enough to get you anywhere but it's nice enough for you to not want it to stop.

Wally hums in pride, freckled cheeks splitting into a grin as you feel the muscles of his core flex absentmindedly, his cock twitching to life, hardening and pressing itself against your neglected cunt. And he presses the sweetest kiss against your cheek, loving and adoring before he breathes your name so sweetly.

"Help me out?" He coos softly. "Just the tip, though. I wanna make you feel good."

You nod your head, biting your bottom lip as you reach down between your thighs, grabbing a hold of his cock and you give his tip a few swipes of your thumb, feeling the way his breath hitches against your back before you ease his flushed tip into your hole.

Just the tip.

Wally can't help the way he sighs at the warmth of your cunt, wrapped so sweetly around his leaky tip as you spasm so subtly. And he clicks his tongue, his hips twitching and giving you the most shallow thrusts, all as he reaches for the showerhead, detaching it and bringing it closer.

"Wally, I don't think—"

Your opinion dies quicker than you'd like to admit because when the water pressure changes, and Wally's controlling the placement, you feel your head tip back against his broad chest. Your lashes flutter closed and faint moans leave your parted lips as your thighs tense and flex, although they're still kept in a long distance relationship.

"You look so pretty." Wally coos sweetly, cheeks flushed and his wet body feeling slightly cold at the breeze that creeps into the bathroom and he dips his head, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before asking you, so sweetly.

"How do you wanna come?"

That question has no business making your cunt drool, walls and nerve endings burning with that sickening desire to come as many times as you can and you swallow.

Sure, this feels great but nothing beats—

"Your tongue and fingers."

You sigh softly, bringing up one hand to curl in his wet hair, nails scratching at his scalp so affectionately.

"Nasty, greedy girl. Tongue and fingers?"

Wally teases you but he wastes no time in setting you on your feet, placing the showerhead back on its spot and kneeling in front of you.

The muscles in his thighs spread out, his core tensing and his cock twitching upwards at the water that pelts down onto the two of you. It's a comforting spray, warmer than before so Wally must've changed the temperature while you were trying to find your brain.

And he guides one of your thighs to rest over his shoulder, the heel of your foot bumping against his back and Wally presses a kiss against your inner thigh. And he places your hands on his head, before lowering his head.

He drags his flattened tongue over your cunt, tasting your slick and feeling you throb against his tongue and he groans softly. Your fingers tangle in his hair, head tipping back against the condensating tiles and you let out the softest sigh. Your tummy tenses when he swirls his tongue around your clit, just before he dips it into your cunt, only for a little bit.

He can taste himself just a bit, the taste of his precum has drastically improved since you've started seeing each other.

Maybe because instead of living off energy drinks and take out, Wally's seeing fruit on a daily basis, instead of treating it like a distant relative.

Two fingers plunge into your cunt at a speed that makes your belly dip inward and your hands fist his hair tighter, a low moan leaving your lips and Wally lets out a boyish giggle.

"Yeah. Does it feel good?" He coos softly, juniper gaze lifting to glance up at your face, seeing the way your brows scrunch in that adorable way, the way your lips part to let out whimpers and whines as his tongue rolls around your clit, suckling at the bud until you let out a pitched moan.

Wally hurls you at your oncoming orgasm with the strength and speed that a cat knocks a glass off the table. And you nearly scream, your knees giving out beneath you but Wally keeps you steady as you buck against his face, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to draw out your orgasm for as long as possible.

Because he loves watching the way you crumble against a damp, tiled wall. Hair clinging to your forehead, face ruddy and hot breaths mingling with the steam in the air and you look so fucking gorgeous when you look down at him through bleary eyes. Watching as his tongue cleans up the slick that paints your puffy pussy with glossiness, licking along your thighs before Wally rises, forearms braced on either side of your head before he smiles down at you, head cocked and he presses a kiss against your forehead.

"You good, pretty?"

You can barely nod your head as Wally's hands move to bracket your hips, thumbs brushing over the protruding bones as his head dips to press kisses along the curve of your neck. Before his hand shifts, to squeeze the fat of your ass, feeling the flesh in his calloused palms and he groans softly.

"Shit." He breathes out before swallowing. "Okay, we're gonna finish showering, then you're gonna order pizza while I get the room ready and then we're gonna... Fix this Valentine's Day, okay?"

This is the most instructions Wally's ever given you. Literally ever.

And you can't deny that it's kind of sexy.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋❤️་༘🎀˚˖𓍢ִ🌹˚.

"Wally, I'm eat—" Your words are broken up in a gasp, cheese, sauce and doe tucked into either of your cheeks and you shift, letting out a slurred whine while Wally's hands pry your thighs apart.

"Don't be selfish." Wally hisses, his tongue curling against your overstimulated clit, sensitive bud peeking out from between your folds and he forces your legs apart, your plate resting on your belly, and Wally lays down on his stomach as he sucks your clit so sweetly, peeking up at you over the decorated porcelain rim of your plate. And you whine, completely unsure of which route to take.

You could keep eating.

Or Wally could keep eating.

"Just keep eating." Wally's nose bumps against your clit, his tongue tracing hearts over your cunt before he flicks it just right, and he rests his head against the flesh of your thigh.

And he doesn't even pretend that it's tedious.

Delightful hums leave his lips in the form of low, reverberating groans, his grip on your thighs borders on almost clingy as he paws at whatever flesh he can get to and his sock-covered feet kick. You don't even have the time to question why his socks has your pictures on it before he's tucking two fingers away in your gummy walls.

Gently curling them, sweetly coaxing you towards another orgasm that has your heels digging into his back, your eyes rolling back and your hand nearly dropping the cheesy slice. And you whimper.

"Wally... 's too much, too sensitive...—" You gasp with a whine, lashes fluttering and tears brimming at the corners of your mouth as his fast flicks and his eagerness make you see God.

Wally ignores you.

Blatantly.

Only lifting his head to scowl at you before ducking back down, his feet kicking and his hips occasionally grinding against the messy sheets, a perfect hill for him to rub against like an animal in heat.

Needy, whiny and so, so achingly hard.

He lets out a familiarly whiny groan, tears brimming on his lower lashline, green eyes becoming bleary as he sucks, nips, drags his tongue and circles. All in perfect movements and God, being a speed freak really had it's perks.

Including the fact that he had the uncanny ability to make you come whenever he wanted to.

A walking, talking vibrator.

Wally coaxes your third orgasm out of you, slick dribbling down his chin and his palm, before he lifts himself, carding his fingers through his hair and staring at you with a heated gaze.

His broad chest heaves, his carved abdomen tenses and flexes, and his hands rest on your thighs, warm palms easing the almost painful burn in your core, and your gaze lowers. Lowers all the way to below that gingery happy trail and you swallow.

"Wally, did you come?" You question softly, lips pursed as you try not to let out a snort of laughter as pearly beads continue to be pushed out with each twitch of his still-hard cock.

"I got really into it." He's not even embarassed, simply moving the messy sheets out of the way and guiding your thighs over his, and notching the flushed tip of his cock at your sopping, slick-soaked pussy.

And he pushes into you, hands grasping the sheets before he stops. Abruptly.

"I need to pull out." Wally announces and you wish you could say he was joking. But his expression doesn't say he's joking.

"Like, right now?"

"Literally right now. Please don't move. I'll lose so much aura, baby, please. Keep still."

Wally begs you, and like a normal woman, and a woman in love, you obviously start to clench and spasm around his leaky tip. And Wally whines.

"You're gonna make me come..." He whimpers, bringing his hand up to bracket your face, forcing you to look away from him.

Wally knows you'll never let it down if you see the way he looks. All red and flushed, weak and teary-eyed as he tries to keep his cool.

He doesn't get why now, of all times, his stamina's playing games with him but he does know one thing.

"Can I come inside?"

Taglist:

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

@jasontoddswhitestreak 🌸

@allycat4458 🪻

@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀

@feral010 ✨

@blckbarbiedoll 🌷

@custardpuddingprincess ⭐

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄

@theamazkngskye 🍄

@sleepyinsomniac 🌙

@ibreathesmut 🪸

@titchx0 🦆

@sl4y-s4turn 🪐

@whyiisgamora 👽

@queen-of-gotham 🦇

[omgsecretsecret]

Wife

Pairing : Han Jisung x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : fluff, a tiny little bit of angst I guess? reader is just a bit anxious

Word count : about 1,750 (I never thought I would write that much)

Warnings : probably nothing lol. Talking about marriage if that's a warning? I didn't make it about a specific religion because marriage don't always have to be religious and I wanted to include as many persons as possible

Author's note : this was supposed to be out for Valentine's day but I'm 2 days late (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ ; thanks to a lovely friend of mine for helping me proofreading it ; I know the title is "Wife" but I promise it's really gn reader ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Taglist : @giddyfatherchris & @0omillo0 <3

Masterlist

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

You had been thinking about it for a while. Jisung and you have been dating for a few years now, you even moved in together. He is always the perfect boyfriend, taking care of you when you are happy and when you are not, making you laugh and comforting you. You did have a few arguments, but never anything big enough to threaten your relationship. He is always mature enough to stop before it gets too big. He always makes time for you, and the way he looks at you with all the fondness in the world is just another proof of his feelings for you. And in return, you love him just as much. You hold him when he's down, cook and and help him shower when he's too tired, attack his cheeks with kisses to cheer him up, and always give in to his pouty lips and boba eyes when he asks for 'just a tiny peck' and he ends up pulling you in for a few more 'or he will die'.

He likes to hold your hand pretty much all the time, but he gives you more space when he knows you need it. When he cooks, he always makes a little heart with some items on your plate. It can be with sauce, rice, vegetables, a scrambled egg, anything. It's silly, it can be on the whole dish or just a tiny one in the corner, but it's adorable. He knows your favorite drink, and is always proud to order it for you when you go out. He notices when you run out of something, and always makes a quick run to the nearest store to make a little stock. He sometimes sings you to sleep, and it is your favorite thing ever.

It's the little things that make your relationship so great, and you hope it's the same little things, with maybe some more added, that will keep you happy in your marriage. Because that is what you have been planning. You want to spend the rest of your life with him, and what better way than this to make it official. You know everybody doesn't have to get married, but you want to.

Planning your proposal took a little bit of thinking. You wanted to make something special, of course, but nothing too grand. You know Jisung would be uncomfortable with anything too big. You need a cozy place, at a moment when you are both relaxed (or at least he is), something sweet and personal. That is how you got the idea of a home date.

Jisung and you have started watching an anime together a few days ago because he insisted that you would like it. And so, this would be the evening when you would propose to him.

You have prepared everything. Today is your boyfriend's day off. You're pretty sure he noticed that you are more stressed than usual, and it's probably why he keeps being so so gentle with you, but you don't let that disturb you more. You appreciate his care more than anything, really, but you're too busy making sure everything is perfect to try to reassure him.

You get all of the snacks ready, set all the pillows and blankets perfectly on the sofa and check at least three times that all of the other details are exactly like you want them. You can then finally change into comfortable clothes like every time you organize a home date like this one, except this time you pay more attention to your appearance, taking more time to get ready in more depth to make yourself pretty for the special night.

When you come out, you can't help but feel a wave of affection at the sight of your boyfriend in his oversized warm hoodie and soft pair of sweats waiting for you. He looks a little tense too, probably because of how you have been stressed, and you'll have to help him relax. He's already sitting in the middle of all of the pillows. He immediately perks up at the sound of you entering the room and looks at you, a heart-shaped smile blooming on his face. He pulls up the cover so you can sit next to him and cuddle and he just looks so cute all excited but still slightly concerned about your nervous state.

You give him a soft, genuine smile before making yourself comfortable on the couch with him. You know you have to relax, at least so he can enjoy the show without worrying about you. So you give him a small peck in the lips, rest your head on his shoulder and start the episode.

Unfortunately, your resolution of being relaxed is soon forgotten as you think about what you are going to do tonight. What if he says no ? While preparing everything for today, you were more focused on choosing the right ring, right moment and place, and it's only now that your mind really drifts off to all of the failing possibilities. You're not focused on the anime anymore and it must be obvious because Jisung speaks up at the end of the episode.

"Jagi ? Are you okay ? You weren't even watching. he says in a slightly concerned tone, lips forming a small pout.

— I'm good, baby, sorry about that." you quickly reassure him. "I was just distracted. I'm thirsty right now, do you want something to drink too ?"

He simply nods, big doe eyes following you as you get up and go to the kitchen. Once there, you take a minute to compose yourself. You have to do it now. If you don't do it now, you won't do it tonight, and you don't know when you'll do it. You grab two glasses for your boyfriend and yourself, pour the drinks and take them in one hand. With your other hand, you carefully take the little box that you had hidden earlier and slip it in your pocket. This is definitely not as romantic as what you had planned. You have been anxious all night and you don't even know if Jisung enjoyed it that much. Maybe a regular date out in a restaurant would have been better ?

You shake your head. You would have been just as anxious in a restaurant anyway, except it would have been in public. Now is okay. You take a deep breath and go back to the living room where your boyfriend is waiting for you. You set the drinks down on the table next to your snacks and Jisung is quick to pull the soft blanket up again so you can sit next to him. But this time you don't.

"Before we continue our date there is something I want to tell you. Or ask you." great, first sentence and you already sound stupid. But Jisung doesn't seem to think the same way because he takes your hand as a silent encouragement. "I... I have been thinking about it for a while now. You make me happy, so so happy. Every day when I wake up, you're there with me. You are kind, you are funny, you are gentle, you are strong, you are cute, you are smart, you are creative, you are very too, and there is still so much more. Every moment I spend with you is full of happiness and I want it to last forever." now this is smoother.

You clumsily get on one knee in front of your boyfriend, shaky hands gripping the small box firmly. "So, Han Jisung, will you marry me ?" you see his eyes fill with tears and you hope they are happy tears. "Will you stay with me and be my wife ?"

Silence.

Will he be your wife ? You are so stupid.

"M-my husband ! My husband ! Will you be my husband ! Oh my gosh..." you cover your face with your hands, mortified. How could you make such a dumb mistake when you are fucking proposing to your boyfriend ? The silence is deafening until a laugh which you love is heard. Warm hands grab your wrists and pull them away from your face.

"Baby, it's okay ! If anything it makes it even better." he says while laughing. "I never thought this would happen tonight, but I couldn't be happier." his eyes get watery again. "You are the love of my life, jagi, I want to marry you."

You smile brightly, squeezing him in your arms as tightly as you can. You kiss him with all the love you have for him, your tears of joy mixing with his, before you gasp and pull away. You quickly get back in your previous position and grab your little box again, looking up at your boyfriend– no, your fiancé. You slide the ring on his finger and he entwines your hands.

"So.. what color do you think my dress should be at the wedding ?" he chuckles as he pulls you closer. "I have to look pretty when I officially become you wife !" he teases.

— It was a mistake ! you whine as you hide your face in his shoulder.

— You're so cute. I know you like when I wear a skirt, maybe I should do it more often...

— Stop it !" you cover his mouth with your hand, embarrassed. "... Though I wouldn't hate it." you mumble. He is indeed very pretty in a skirt.

He chuckles again and gently removes your hand from his face. His eyes are still a little moist from his tears of earlier, but you know they were good ones.

"Noted." he says softly, looking at you with a fond gaze. "Is that why you were so nervous earlier ?" he asks and you nod. "Okay. I was a little worried. But it was worth it, I'm your fiancé now !" he grins.

You both stay there for a little while, trying to process that you are engaged now, that he isn't just your boyfriend anymore. You still have lots of time to plan a wedding, so neither of you think about it. You just cuddle peacefully and eventually watch the episode again so you can actually follow the story. It's impressive how quickly you went back to usual. You're cuddling just like you normally do, and from the outside it probably looks like nothing is different, but you know that something between you changed, in a good way. You have the promise of a forever, and you can't wait to call him your husband.

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[comicbookhyperfixationtime]

#absolutely hilarious they couldn't come up with anything better than him washing his hands 🤣

@royalcommunistthor I think what they’re trying to show here is the end of a terry cloth bath, which is how people washed themselves on the regular before showers were invented and it became easier to heat water for baths. Basically you stand in a little mini tub and take a bucket of soapy water and piece cloth and literally just like sponge yourself down, the gentry did this every night before bed. It’s about as effective as a quick shower. His whole body looks pretty wet here so he’s probably just cleaning the soap off his hands. However terry cloth baths were usually a night thing and this is early in the morning where they’d typically only wash their hands and face at most.

However, I don’t know what the funnier (and more probable) interpretation is here. That Asgard despite being technologically advanced enough for faster-than-light travel still uses medieval washing methods or Thor felt the need to strip just to wash his hands and maybe his face (maybe he’s really messy and splashes water everywhere, idk).

(Side note the more I look at Thor’s hair in any movie after the first Avengers the angrier I get. Whatever gel they were using or wig or extensions they look super stringy and greasy. Like it’s one thing for his hair to look like this at the end of an adventure when he doesn’t have the time to style and take care of it but for God’s sake when he’s on Asgard in his palace it should be better than this. Even those fuckass cuts from the first two movies at least looked soft and smooth. When Thor comes from Asgard he better have perfectly styled hair. Give this man his oily hair shampoo and blowout brush back you monsters.)

musclesmusclesmuscles 👀

[swytchoocos]

Valentine’s Day— Haitani brothers ୨♡୧

I know for them is white day in march but this is the Americanized version feb 14 ;)

Ran Haitani

• Last-Minute but Perfect Plans – He acts like he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day, but somehow everything falls perfectly into place. Reservations at an upscale restaurant? Done. A thoughtful but expensive gift? Already bought. He’ll act like it was effortless, but he definitely planned in advance.

• Teasing but Sweet – Spends the whole day teasing you, calling you needy for wanting a romantic day with him. But then he’ll randomly pull you close, tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and say, “You’re lucky I like spoiling you.”

• Lavish Gifts – He’s got money, and he’s not afraid to use it. Jewelry, designer clothes, perfume—he loves seeing you draped in things he picked out. “Makes you look even better, doll,” he’ll smirk.

• Slow Dancing at Home – If you two go back to his place, he’ll put on some slow jazz or R&B, take your hand, and sway with you in the dim light. It’s one of those rare soft moments he doesn’t admit he enjoys.

• Possessive Affection – Ran has a habit of pulling you onto his lap in public, especially if he catches someone else eyeing you. “They can look, but they’ll never have you,” he’ll say with that lazy grin.

• Late-Night Drives – After dinner, he’ll take you for a ride through the city, one hand on the wheel, the other holding your thigh. He’ll drive aimlessly, just enjoying your presence.

Rindo Haitani

• Acts Like He Doesn’t Care (But He Does) – He’ll grumble about how Valentine’s Day is overhyped, but if you say you don’t want to do anything, he’ll get secretly annoyed. He wants to do something for you—he just won’t admit it.

• Simple but Meaningful – He’s not about flashy dates like Ran. Instead, he’d take you somewhere quiet and personal—like a hidden ramen spot or a scenic lookout where he can just enjoy your company without distractions.

• Homemade Effort – If he really likes you, he’ll cook for you. He’ll pretend it’s no big deal, but you’ll catch him double-checking the recipe or cursing under his breath when something doesn’t turn out perfect.

• Protective but Subtle – If you go out, his hand is always resting on your lower back, guiding you through crowds. He’s not the type to be overly possessive, but he makes sure everyone knows you’re his.

• Soft but Rare Compliments – “You look nice,” is about as much as you’ll get at first. But if you catch him off guard—maybe laughing or staring at him with love in your eyes—he’ll mumble, “You’re beautiful,” like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

• Loves Spending the Night In – Rindo would rather have a chill night in than go to a fancy dinner. Movie marathon? Gaming session? Cuddling under a blanket while he absentmindedly plays with your fingers? Yes to all of the above.

• Quiet but Deep Love – Unlike Ran, Rindo won’t shower you with words, but his actions speak for him. He’ll hold your hand when no one’s looking, press a kiss to your temple when he thinks you’re asleep, and pull you closer in bed when he thinks you might move away.

Overall, dating Ran on Valentine’s Day is like being swept into a whirlwind of luxury and charm, while Rindo makes you feel like you’re the most important person in his world—even if he struggles to say it.

[milessunflowers]

BED CHEM (OSCAR'S VERSION)

switch!oscar piastri x switch!male!reader

synopsis: suggestive/smutty headcannons of everyone's favorite australian

author's note: made with the help of my wonderful friend, vinnie ( @koalapastries ). thank you again vin!! it's pretty, um, suggestive ig you could say that. we got really into it but hey, it's oscar. who isn't into him? this is probably the smuttiest i have ever gotten 😅

hes a total switch

like based on his mood is how he determines if he wants to bottom or top

either way, he's into guiding you in whatever

like if your fucking him (either orally or not)

he loves it in the shower

pishing you against the wall

or taking you down the throat

loves it

he is obsessed with body worship

"youre so handsome" to you or to him

it makes him ever harder

praise him, like big time. tell him he is an amazing driver, boyfriend, all of it. especially if he is fucking you. makes it ten times better

he also loves bouncing/riding you

and he's so pretty when he does it too, angelic even

he squirms and whines when he's a bottom, not saying you don't squirm bc in the end, you're both brats when you don't get your way

he loves begging and making you beg

makes him feel even better

loves being feminized lowkey (highkey)

like he will wear makeup when he feels like it, wants you to fuck him hard until there is streaks of mascara running down his face

loves marking you but doesn't want marks, he's sensitive alright?

he will buy lingerie and wear it around (and under his race suit) bc it makes you crazy especially bc of his man tits

he also totally doesn't buy you a matching set

which he also buys some for lando and logan for when you guys have three or sometimes foursomes

like loves how needy the three of you become for him

makes you all so tired he has to finish himself off

he is so loud too

doesnt matter where or who is around, he doesn't care. he will be loud bc who is gonna believe that oscar piastri is such a slut?

he loves dirty talk, even as a bottom. he initiates it in all scenarios, mainly bc you are too shy to

hes so pretty when he whines

sometimes will walk around naked at home bc he feels like it (and totally doesn't want to fuck you/be fucked against the window)

loves quick head in the garage before races

he performs better that way apparently

you don't argue

when he gives head, he keeps eye contact with you the whole time, with shit eating grins too

lowkey loves choking (with your hands or dick he doesn't care)

he also loves sticking his cock down your throat

like how he wants to fuck against a window, he's lowkey a exhibitionist (but only in places where he is comfortable and is still considerably hidden)

if you're not into that, he won't suggest it, tho

he will only bottom after a race so he doesn't have anything sore

but sometimes if he is really desperate he will suck it up (literally and figuratively)

he doesn't have a set pre race ritual known to the public, mainly bc it is nasty

he'll either make out with you heavily, cockwarm you or have you cockwarm him, or head

post race is basically the same thing, same with any online meetings he has

if you are a sky sports report, your voice is almost always hoarse (thanks osc)

he'll smirk at that while subtly making comments about the hoarseness as well as the liter of hickeys on your neck

if you interview him before the race, you meet him back at his drivers room and edge him right before he has to get in the car

it pisses him off, but he performs better and maybe even podiums, resulting in you having a nasty limp

bonus points if he wins the race because it'll be extra hard

he loves degrading you (if you are okay with it) but doesn't feel comfortable with you doing the same back

boundaries ppl, respect them!

he does, however, loves being called princess (makes him cum untouched or instantly)

he'll fuck/ride you to the brink of overstimulation and if you have logan or lando or both there, he will just finish with them until all three of you are tired

he could go forever really the man is insatiable

hes secretly such a slut like no one would ever expect this of him at all

it makes him love it more

and if you are okay with it, he will sometimes film you guys (or lando will bc why not) for dates when you guys are apart

and if you want him to stop anything at all, he reassures you it's okay to stop and will and vice versa

once again, respect boundaries ppl!!!

but the aftercare is so so sweet

he will pick you up carefully and help you clean up with warn water and a sort cloth

he gives you cup after cup of water

dresses you in his clothes since you find them more comfortable

then gives you loads of kisses and cuddles and praises about how well you did

then makes sure you sleep comfortably in fresh sheets, blankets, everything

he just loves you so much and wants you to know how much he loves you in all ways

and man do you know it

sometimes you think you have a permanent limp

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton

[artdisease]

gojo on valentine's day <3

gojo celebrating valentine’s day with you would feel so good and one of the most happiest days of your lives, he’d wake you up with affection, show you tons of love and shower you with gifts, sweets and flowers he got for you on the special lovers day.

he’d take you out on romantic dates where the two of you have fun, take you to an amusement park, an arcade where you both win things and get prizes as well, just anywhere enjoyable, he’d still tease you while being cocky but be super affectionate about it since he's so smitten with you.

and then after the two of you arrive home, he’d do the most romantic thing which was having rose petals placed on the bed to resemble a heart, candles that smelled sweet filling up the whole bedroom…what a perfect yet lovely day.

[finelinevogue]

but what is she surprises aaron with flowers and a bath. where she’s looking after him but he’s like you need to be in here with me to be perfect. because this man never lets himself be taken care of 😭

aaaahhhh omg no i will cry this is so cute for v day 🥹🥹🥹🥹 okay let’s do it!

pairing - aaron hotchner x wife!reader

word count - ~1.5k

In your opinion; being married to someone does not mean you stop dating that person.

Your person happened to be the workaholic, grump, that is Aaron Hotchner. Not only is he the Unit Chief of the BAU in the FBI, but he is also more importantly your husband and father to three.

“That’s so pretty, Cassie-baby.” You cooed at your daughter who was drawing her dad a valentine’s day card.

Aaron does so much for his team at work and even more at home for you, so you decided to treat him extra special on this extra special day.

Cassie, your 2 year old, Dylan, your 5 year old and Jack your 10 year old were all sitting at the kitchen table perfecting their valentines day cards for their dad.

You had given yours to Aaron already.

“Mm.”

Aaron sighed as he felt your kisses trail over his exposed back. His face was shoved into his pillow, head turned away from you, as he was softly woken from his sleep.

“Morning.” You kissed him again, leaning further over his body so you could kiss his neck closer to his face.

“I love you, but why are you awake?” His voice was so low and muffled that it did something to your core.

“It’s valentines day.”

Aaron smiled in response. He of course knew what day it was, he just hadn’t expected you to wake up at 5AM just so you could tell him that.

He did appreciate the gesture though.

“I’ve got something for you.” You whispered into his ear, before giving his lobe a soft kiss and small bite. Aaron happily sighed at the feeling.

You handed him his card and told him that you were going to take an indulgent shower.

You watched Aaron flick on the bedside light about to open and read the card you had gifted him. He took pride in caring for things like this. That’s when he saw the clock on the bedside table.

4:45AM.

“Honey, not that I don’t love the fuss but you’ve woken me up 15 minutes early.” Aaron whined, because he did love his sleep regardless of how much he looked like he didn’t.

“Did I?” You asked, slipping off your pyjama top so you were bare, “Or did I just give us an extra 15 minutes to take a shower together?”

You left him to think on that question.

But you knew you made the right choice when less than thirty seconds later Aaron came up behind you in the shower.

Before you could go down that route in your mind, you returned to helping your kids out.

“Jack, that’s amazing bud.” You gasped. He’d drawn a picture of the whole family and labelled everyone too for good measure. “Uhh, who’s this?” You pointed.

“That’s our dog.” He explained.

“We don’t have a dog.” You said, confused.

“We will. I’m working on it.” He nodded and you had to laugh at the boy’s ambition. You no doubt probably would end up with a dog, because Aaron could not say ‘no’ to his kids.

Dylan was writing his name super neatly - for a 5 year old - at the bottom of his card.

“Wow, Dyl-man. You’re so clever.” You kissed his head.

“I know.” He smiled up at you.

“Daddy will be home in an hour, okay? So let’s finish these and then get our pyjamas on before dinner.”

<.><.><.>

When Aaron came home the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was.

Normally there was at least one child screaming, or dinner was coking, or even the TV was on for the kids to watch. This evening there was nothing.

“Honey?” Aaron called out.

He took off his blazer and hung it on the staircase, dropping his briefcase next to it.

He stood there for another moment, looking around the house and undoing his tie so he could place it next to his blazer.

“Y/N?” He called out again - more concerned this time.

He walked into the kitchen and noticed that the oven was on with his dinner being warmed inside.

The thing that caught his eyes though was the trio of cards sat on the table that were all addressed to him. He picked them up one-by-one and admired the drawings and writings inside.

He had really poor artists for children but at the same time Aaron believed they were all MOMA worthy.

Aaron fetched a glass of water after reading the cards, keeping them propped up so everyone could see. Now he wanted to see his family to give them all the kisses they deserved.

He went upstairs to the kids playroom.

It was there that he found everyone.

You were wall inside the massive fort that Aaron had helped Jack make last weekend. It was a wonder it was still standing actually.

The fort was huge and nearly spanning the whole room. It was a combination of random bedsheets and blankets, along with strings of tiny, hanging, fairy lights and fluffy pillows to cover the floor.

Aaron leaned against the door as he watched you read a book to your children. They were all in their pyjamas, tucked under blankets and wearing sleepy faces. Cassie was already asleep against your chest, but Dylan and Jack were trying their best to pay attention to you and the story.

“Room for one more?” Aaron asked as he knelt down in front of the fort entrance.

“Daddy!” Dylan cheered, perking up at the sight of his dad. Jack was the same, but Cassie was too asleep to notice.

“Hey, my buddies.” Aaron laughed as his sons hugged him tight. He hugged them back tighter.

“We missed you.” Jack said.

“I miss you too.” He kissed Jack’s head and then thought it was only fair he did the same to Dylan’s. He would kiss Cassie’s when he put her to bed later.

Aaron looked over his sons to where you were laid looking at them all - a loving smile on your face.

Aaron mouthed ‘I love you’ to you and you mouthed it back, before Aaron clambered into the fort and settled down for the rest of the bedtime story.

<.><.><.>

You sat with Aaron as he had his dinner.

“Was Spencer any better today?” You asked, drying the dishes that you had cleaned before.

“He was okay. He was okay enough to talk about the origins of beans for half an hour, at least:” Aaron chuckled as he drank from his water.

“Origins of beans?” You questioned.

“Don’t ask.” Aaron rolled his eyes, before tucking back into his dinner.

You were both happy to be silent in each other’s company as Aaron ate and you dried and put away dishes. The kids had been put to bed an hour or so ago, so it was just you two for the night now.

“Dinner okay?” You asked.

You came up beside Aaron and brushed a hand through his hair. His arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you close against him as he ate.

“Mhm. Lovely, thank you.”

You smiled as you accepted his politeness.

You bent over to kiss his head - something you as a family did a lot. Even Jack had started doing it to his siblings after seeing you and Aaron do it all the time.

“You need a shower.” You said, pulling back from his head.

Aaron pinched your side gently, “Love you too.” He said sarcastically.

“Oi!” You laughed.

“Supposed to be nice to each other today.”

“What? Just because it’s valentines day?”

“Yes.” Aaron finished his meal and twisted in his chair so you stood between his legs. His other arm came around your waist so you were trapped against him.

You steadily brushed his hair into formation after having ruined it a little when you’d messed with it before.

“I love you every day, not just because it’s valentines day.” You explained. “Do you?”

“Did you just ask me whether I love you every day?” Aaron scoffed.

“Well?”

“Sweetheart, there hasn’t been a day since I met you that I haven’t loved you. I just love you a little extra today.”

“Oh you do, do you?” You teased.

“Mhm.”

“Well if you love me that much…” You said seductively, leaning down as Aaron’s head tilted back in anticipation of kissing you. Just as you were about to kiss him you whispered, “… Then you can clean your own dishes.”

You leant back up and left Aaron hanging.

He raised an eyebrow in challenge over your actions and you knew that you’d pay for your teasing later. For now he could clean his dishes - alone.

You needed him alone in order to prepare the next part of his valentines day.

<.><.><.>

Aaron trudged up the stairs after turning off the lights downstairs and setting the alarm.

He unbuttoned his shirt a little as he reached the top, stopping at three when he focused on checking on his kids instead.

Each of them were sleeping when he checked.

They were all safe and that’s all that Aaron needed reassuring of.

He walked into your bedroom next and noticed you weren’t in bed reading like he had expected you to be.

He shut the bedroom door and called your name.

“In here.” You responded from the bathroom.

Aaron’s shirt was now all the way unbuttoned but he kept it on as he entered the bathroom.

He knocked as he entered to give you time to tell him to get out if needed.

“Yeah?”

Aaron watched as you checked the temperature of the bath water, which was filled with bubbles, before shaking off the water and rolling your sleeve back down.

The bathroom smelt like those calming bath salts Penelope had bought for both of you.

“What’s all this?” Aaron asked, gesturing to the bath and the warm glowing candles on the counter.

“Happy valentines day.” You smiled.

“Honey.” Aaron pouted as he looked from the room to you, standing there with a smile that would bring even the grumpiest of men to their knees. “This is for me?”

“Yeah. Enjoy.” You leant up to kiss his cheek as you tried to walk past him, but he caught your arm before you could.

“Woah, woah. Where are you going?”

“Uh.. To let you enjoy this.” You furrowed your brows.

“How?” He asked seriously.

“What?”

“How am I supposed to enjoy this, without you?”

His question made your brows soften and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit more.

“You do so much for us Aaron. Thought you might want a moment of peace.”

“Well you thought wrong, because all I want right now is you.” He leant down to kiss you, “And that bath.”

You laughed into the kiss he was giving you, “Okay then. You, me and the bath it is.”

[huntercollectivewritingpile]

About that Curly X Jimmy X reader thing… PRETTY PLEASE MAKE ITTT :3 I love the whole idea Jimmy telling curly to be rougher, while curly just feels really bad but at the same time dosent want to disappoint and ruin the experience for Jim so he goes rougher whilst apologizing to you, Jimmy just laughs and calls you a slut. MMMMMMMM

I wasn't sure how to do this while being original (struggle) but I did it! It's more drabble style as I wasn't sure how to pace out the story. (im still learning to write send help.)

Anyways.

JIMMY X READER X CURLY

P IN V, ROUGH SEX, DOUBLE PENETRATION.

You're not entirely sure how you ended up squashed between Jimmy and Curly, but here you were. Being held by them both in curly’s quaint kitchen, Jimmy's dick deep in your ass while Curly was deep in your pussy. 

Jimmy, as per usual, was being rough, thrusting in and out at a harsh pace. Curly tried his best to be gentle but with Jimmy egging him on he kept changing his pace. 

“C’mon Curly! Be a little mean, they can take it. Can’t ya’ baby. “ Jimmy taps your cheek with his hand before moving it back to your chest, groping it and circling your nipple. 

Curly is internally fighting with himself as he has you hoisted up against Jimmy, sinking his dick back in until it hits your cervix. He doesn't want to hurt you but he doesn't want to disappoint Jimmy. So he thrusts back into you with immense force, pounding your hole until he’s sure you won’t be able to walk the next day. 

You're a moaning mess, trying not to cry from the pressure of both of them in you, you could barely keep up with jimmy and now curly was doing the same? You think that you're going to die. 

Curly leans down to your ear and lets out a breathy moan before speaking, “You're doing so well, baby. I’m so sorry, I know it's a lot. “ 

You want to say something but it's caught in your throat, moan after moan choking you from speaking your mind, you just dig your nails into curly’s shoulder, almost trying to push him off. 

Jimmy lets out a mean laugh, “You're such a slut ya’ know, taking us like this!” 

Curly feels a pang of guilt in his chest at the insult, he doesn't want you to think that about yourself but he doesn't say anything, he just continues to absolutely pound the shit out of you. 

Maybe afterwards he’ll take you for a nice shower. 

[green4allseasons]

The lights to the townhome are mostly out… save for the single lamp in the window. And Jason’s heart warms at the shallow glow because that means somehow he’d known that Jason would be returning tonight. 

Somehow he always knows.

Jason walks the motorbike the final block to the house. The thing is loud, which he usually enjoys. But tonight… he doesn’t want to run the risk of waking any sleeping occupants. So instead, he quietly stashes the bike beside the garage and hoofs it to the front door, pulling out a key that had been made specifically for him. 

He loves the way the townhouse welcomes him home. How, although it belongs to someone else on paper, as soon as he steps through the door it greets him as if he's always belonged there too. 

On the crooked end table with a single glowing lamp, there's a stack of books that he recently finished reading from the library, all long overdue. And his jackets... those are all neatly hanging from the coat hanger while another's lay stale and untouched in an ever-growing heap on the floor. 

Even the fridge is marked with his presence, occupied with tupperware full of stir fry. His recipe... though it had been made by someone else in his absence. 

And technically, he could go to his room. Tim had made sure that he knew that it always belonged to him. Even from the very beginning. 

So at first Jason considers it.  The door’s wide open and waiting for him. And it’s what he usually does when he gets into town late; they’re considerate of each other’s sleep schedule like that. 

But... it’s Valentine's Day. Or it was Valentine's Day, he thinks, looking down at his watch and seeing the short hand point at the 2:00. And while Jason’s not a sap for all that capitalist bullshit, he finds himself teetering on his feet in front of his doorway, side-eyeing his bed that looks so cold and lonely in the dark.

“Fuck it,” he decides, turning on his heels and striding into the room across from his. Timmy might get a little pissy about being woken up but he’d just have to live with it for one night. It’s Valentine's Day, or was… and god dammit if Jason isn't feeling a little sentimental. Sue him.

He sounds a lot tougher in his mind, but his actions tell a different story as he slowly nudges the door open, cringing at the resulting creak of old hinges. Had it always been so loud?

Of course, Tim startles, his eyes blearily opening, the pupils constricting at the sudden light. “Jay?” he asks, “Everything okay?”

Jason feels instantly bad. Like he said, they never do this, not unless something’s wrong. So Tim’s instant concern isn’t totally baseless. Usually they give each other a day to adjust to the timezones and whatnot before inexplicably finding themselves in each other’s beds. Intertwined for however long they're both in town… which isn’t as often as either of them would like. 

“Yeah, all good, just…” Jason pauses, a little embarrassed to say the words out loud. He was really counting on Tim being asleep. And goddammit, the little smile that crawls across Tim’s face makes him want to bury his head in a hole. 

“I didn’t take you for a Valentine’s sort of guy,” Tim teases, that little sleepy smirk so fucking annoying. And yet, Jason feels himself unraveling in ways that he can’t put words to.

He swears, “...Just scoot over, will you?”

Tim lets out a small laugh but opens the covers anyway. Jason’d already showered at his new safehouse so he doesn’t feel bad as he crawls into the sheets. But he doesn’t think Tim would mind either way. 

Tim doesn’t turn around, preferring to face Jason as he lays his head back down. They could only manage to fit a twin mattress in the room so it forces them to shift close. Jason sure as hell doesn’t care as their foreheads touch on their shared pillow. 

And god, if Jason doesn’t feel like a man with his whole world in his hands. Tim’s warmth so all encompassing that slowly he feels the tension in his muscles lessen, unwinding with every breath that flutters against his cheek. Tim’s breath is still minty from brushing, giving away that he’d probably stayed up too late… again.

Sighing, Jason settles his hand on Tim’s cheek, adoring the contrasting sensations of the impossibly soft skin under Tim’s eyes and the rough stubble over his jawline. Just another indicator that he’d been working too hard. 

Ah well, it just means that Jason needs to stay longer this time. 

Jason’s fingers rest against Tim’s jawline before he grips gently, using the leverage to press their foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he breathes, holding back so much more that he want’s to say because it’s late, and Tim’s tired, and he doesn’t get enough sleep these days as is. 

And really? All that Jason wants to say has been said before and can be said again once morning comes.

Jason plans to spend his whole life saying it. A whole life proving how it’s true. 

[just-a-creep-babe]

Hiiii! I see that your requests are open for Valentine's day? I hope I can still request nsfw for Ben 💙 Maybe friends with benefits that could lead to more? Thank you so much!! 💕

Not me accidentally writing angst for Valentine’s Day 😭😭

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Check out my ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

Masterlist: x

The night starts off like it usually does; with a text

It's the typical "you up" kind of message, and it's loaded with so much stereotypical fuckboy intention that, in any other context, it'd have you rolling your eyes

But it's not just any other context; it's BEN

You don't even have to turn the idea over in your head to know that you'll be going

You tug your shirt up over your chest to reveal your bra—a decently comfortable lacy white thing with no underwire—and snap a pic to send to him

He hearts it almost immediately, and his response is fast enough to make you wonder if he's not in your phone right now, doing god-knows-what he usually does when he's haunting tech

The three bubbles pop up, disappear, then pop back up again

It brings an involuntary smile to your face, like those kind of dumb, lovestruck smiles people get when they're hopelessly head-over-heels for someone

The realization, though it isn't the first time it comes to mind, is enough to sober you

You text him that you'll meet him in his room in 30 after you shower, and then you toss your phone onto your bed and leave without waiting for his reply

You take your time in the shower

You stand there, basking in the hot water thrumming against your skin, until the room's thick with steam

Your thoughts keep falling into the same loop; you think about your feelings for BEN, you think about the agreement you had when you first started sleeping with him, you think about the time you've spent with him since having that agreement, and you think about what he might think of the whole thing

And then that loop restarts over and over again

Even when you step out and dry yourself, you're still thinking about it

There's no answer to the mess, it seems, no solution to the hole you keep digging yourself deeper and deeper into

And that’s what bothers you the most about it

You fix your hair up, put on whatever scandalous bits of lingerie look nice, and then you're making your way out the hallway and to his room

You knock on his door using your usual code, and then you let yourself in and firmly click the lock shut behind you

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the room, but as soon as they do, you see him

He's lying back, one hand behind his head while the other lazily strokes over the bulge pressing up against his boxers

He's in nothing but his underwear, and the sight of his bare skin is just as alluring as ever

That sardonic smile you've come to adore slowly finds its way to his face as he looks up at you

He tilts his head to the side, his pointed ears twitching, and with a hum, he speaks

"I was gonna return the favour," he grins, "but you threw it away too quickly"

You feel his eyes track your every move as you walk up to him

And when you're standing right in front of his bed, you undo the knot of your night robe, and the fabric parts to reveal your own underwear

"Threw what away?" you ask, though it seems he's in no rush to answer you as he takes in everything you've just revealed to him

He fists the shape of his cock through his boxers, and you watch as it twitches in his hold, and he juts his hips forwards as it does, like he can't control the movement

It reminds you of the way he pushes himself deeper into you when he's cuming, and the memory has you squeezing your thighs together as something molten stirs in your core

"Your phone," he eventually answers, his eyes slipping over the curve of your tits before finally resting on your face

"I was gonna give you a sneak peak too, you know," he teases

"That so?"

You get on the bed, straddle him so that his bulge is right between your thighs, and slowly rock your hips down against him

He hisses—the sound low and needy and entirely too addictive—and throws his head back as his hips wriggle up to meet you halfway

You have to mention it, you think

You can't keep pretending it's not happening

You can't keep lying to yourself, lying to him

You need to confess—and let whatever happens happen

You open your mouth, the words just at the tip of your tongue

But right as it's about to spill out, his hands find their way to your bare skin, and it seems all you can do is suck in a breath through your teeth as electricity dances from his fingertips and up your spine

You arch up, yielding to his silent command, and all you can think about is how you need him inside of you

You need him to satiate you

He purrs—and you swear the bastard knows the effect it has on you, judging by the glint of mischief in his eyes

And when he tells you to take your bra off, you give in without a second thought

He runs his hands up to your chest like second nature, like it’s where his hands belong

When he thumbs at your nipples, you breathe out a sigh and roll your hips over his bulge

You feel him—hard and eager against you—and it has you clenching around nothing

All you can think about is more

He hums in approval, his gaze fixed on your tits while he greedily gropes and squeezes at your flesh

You return the favour by indulging in the feeling of his skin beneath you

You trace from his chest, down his torso and abdomen, until you eventually reach his pelvis

His skin is soft, but it isn’t warm like a normal living body

And something about that, something about how different he is, how special—it has you digging your nails into him and scratching possessive red lines into his skin

He groans, head falling back to reveal his neck, and you take the chance to lean in and bite at his throat

He chokes out a moan, his hands flying down to your hips like he’s trying to grasp onto something to steady himself

“(Y/n)—“ he practically hisses your name, and when his thumb digs harder into your pelvis, you whine and jerk on top of him

But you don’t let it distract you from littering his neck with marks

You savour the taste of his skin, licking and sucking and biting him—hard—because it feels like one of the only ways you can alleviate your longing for him

And it’s only when his thumb ghosts over your clit above your panties that you finally relent

You pull back to admire your work; he’s flushed and panting, his neck bright red, and he has that look in his eyes that you know means he’s getting impatient

Good, you think

But it’s like he knows you’re getting cocky and he doesn’t like the control you have, so in retaliation, he sends mini shocks up through your clit

Your body seizes with the feeling, back arching up again, and with his free hand, he returns to lather your tits with more attention

You squirm on top of him, and it has his cock grinding between your puffy folds through your underwear

“You want my dick, baby?”

He has this grin on his face as he says it, because both of you know he’s just asking to hear you beg for it

And you do want it—and you want so much more than just his dick, too

So it doesn’t bother you to beg

It doesn’t bother you to bounce on him so that your tits jiggle from the motion, and it doesn’t bother you to beg and stick your tongue out like a desperate little slut for him—just the way he likes it

His cock twitches in reaction at the sight of you, and when he pushes your underwear to the side and strokes his fingers up and down your dripping slit, you shudder

He sinks his middle finger between your swollen folds, curls it up, then adds his ring finger

It’s bliss

You grind down to meet him for every thrust, and every time he curls his finger, your body sings for more

You ride his fingers, hands touching anywhere and everywhere they can reach, searching for more—always more

You arch your back again and bring his free hand to your chest, and he rewards you by thumbing at your clit

It has your arousal gushing out with some indignant whimper

As he’s slowly pumping in and out of you, watching your every reaction, your every little moan and gasp and shudder, the hand at your tits moves down to find its way to his dick

“I want it,” you breathe, “let me have it”

Let me have you, you think, but you don’t say it out loud because you don’t want to ruin the moment

“Then sit on it,” he groans

He pulls his fingers out, and you immediately miss the contact, but the disappointment is dulled by the sight of him finally exposed

You bite back a moan as you wrap your hand around the base of him

He twitches again, precum beading up his tip, and you have to resist lapping it up while he watches

Instead, you line him up and ever so slowly sink down onto him

You savour it—savour every inch of him spreading you open, stretching you out and grinding right where you need him

He watches you with lidded eyes, and when he has your attention, he makes sure you see the way he sucks on his two fingers that were previously buried in your cunt

You squeeze him involuntarily, and he groans with a smile

“B-BEN, I—“

Your confession threatens to overwhelm you

It threatens to bubble out your throat and past your lips, because it’s like having him inside of you like this makes the longing all the more unbearable

But then he pushes his hips up, and it has his dick nudging up against something so deep inside of you that your toes curl and your cunt squelching around him

So all that escapes is a whimper and a moan, and you’re back to moving your hips up and down to ride him

The slightest movement has your body burning for more

He’s throbbing inside you, and every time he thrusts up into you, you clench around him and waves of slick make a mess between the both of you

Your thoughts turn to mush as your brain’s overridden by the feeling of him

Up and down, you bounce on him, driving him harder, faster, deeper inside of you with every thrust

And when he brings his hands around your hips to guide you, to help you fuck yourself along his length, it has you mewling for more

Over and over again, you drive yourself up and down

And every time you tighten around him, he jerks inside of you and tiny shocks course up your body

The familiar rush of pressure builds, your body screaming for more

And every time you move, your arousal sticks between your thighs and his, and it leaves a ring of your slick at the base of his cock

But all of it just makes it easier to ride him, to use him until you’re both panting and you’re steadily losing your grasp on the pace you’d set

“F-fuck—atta girl~ So fucking good for me~”

The way he praises you between moans coaxes you to keep going faster

His hands keep flitting between your hips and your tits, like he doesn’t know which to choose

But he eventually settles on your hips and keeps his gaze on your face, on your lips as you bite them back to stop yourself from screaming his name out

“You close, baby? C’mon, be a good girl for me. Be a good girl and cum all over me”

His praise threatens to push you over the edge

You dig more possessive marks into him, fingers clutching him tight for all he’s worth, and his eyes roll back and his hips push up into you at the feeling

You moan his name like a wordless plea for him to cum inside you

You want him to fill you, want him to claim you

Your cunt sucks him in, tight and wet and all-too inviting, and he hissed at the feeling as he flexes his hips as deep into you as possible

Your name escapes him, and the sound of it resonates within you, and if it weren’t for your orgasm taking the breath from your lungs, you’re not entirely certain you’d be able to stop yourself from confessing right then and there as you cum around him

Everything inside your body tenses, and then all at once, your high hits you, and next thing you know, you’re lurching forward and shaking and crying out for him

He presses you closer into him, but his hips never once relent as he chases his own high

Your nails dig into his hair, pulling it back so that you can bite into his neck again

And it’s like that’s all it takes for him to get over the edge as well

He fucks himself as deep as he can possibly reach, and then his cock stiffens and twitches, and you feel him spill the entirety of himself inside you

It feels so, so fucking good

Your eyes roll back, jaw going slack to release a pathetic moan against his skin

He doesn’t stop grinding up into you until he’s completely spent, and even once he stills, you don’t move off of him

You’re panting against him, sweaty body on sweaty body, and his hands are stroking up and down your back, his cock still twitching occasionally as you squeeze him involuntarily every now and then

You don’t want to move off of him, but you know you can’t stay linked forever

So you reluctantly get off, and lie down next to him

He grins and pulls you close to his chest

If you close your eyes, you can pretend it’s an act of love, of devotion, but you know it’s just the result of the after-bliss making him seek the comfort of another body

Your confession finally dies on your tongue as you realize you shouldn’t say it—not right now, anyways

Next time, you finally settle, your body feeling at peace, there’s always next time

[strawberryflavoredvenum]

Ticcijack Valentine's fanfic

This is really late lol. Sorry about that, I had school and work!

Here you go!

Jack had never been a fan of Valentine's day. It's not that he was bitter, but more so indifferent. He was not too excited about holidays in general. He saw them as just another day. His love life was doa and he was never a romantic person to begin with. This year was different though. This year he had someone. Someone who loved holidays.

Toby was always the one putting in the most effort during holidays. Him and Lyra used to decorate the house and use leds to match whichever holiday was soon at the time. Now that he was a proxy, he still clung on to his traditions. The other proxies appreciated the sentiment during the holidays

Valentine's Day was different though. Toby has never been with anyone before Jack so he's never fully celebrated. He also knew that Jack didn't care for holidays so he didn't try.

That's what led to Jack's current situation. Frustrated and struggling to get the LEDs to stick to the wall. There was a table with a TV dinner and a Tupperware of kidney. The dinner was nothing special, the table cloth was dusty, the damn LEDs just won't cooperate. Jack signed when he looked at his poor excuse for a romantic scene. It looked nothing like the effort Toby usually put into holidays. Toby was away on mission but would be back soon.

Jack was about to tear the whole thing down and pretend he never tried when the front door jiggled and a tired and bloody figure walked in. He stopped in his tracks when he reached the living room and saw the scene. No reaction at all. Jack prepared for the worst.

Toby was in shock. No one has ever done something like this for him before. Jack even remembered the leds in red and pink. He didn't even know how to react.

He was bloody and gross, yet he sat down at the table. Jack did the same as he studied Toby's expression. Toby looked down at the TV dinner and smiled. "How long did this take you?" Toby asked. Jack shrugged. " Longer than I'd like to admit." Toby smiled as he removed his muzzle. "It's nice". Jack sighed. "You don't have to lie. It looks like a child made this." Toby frowned and looked around the room. Toby didn't see it that way. To him, it was charming and made him feel important to someone.

Toby grabbed Jack's hand and squeezed it. "You're the only person to ever do something like this for me." Jack squeezed his hand back and nodded. "You always put your heart and soul into holidays. I wanted to give you the same effort."

Toby was flushed and absolutely flattered. Getting Jack to be romantic or vulnerable was like pulling teeth. Toby didn't even have to try today. Toby dug into his dinner and Jack followed after.

After dinner, Jack picked up the plates and washed them. Toby got up and stretched. "Man I'm filthy". He said. He was still in the same clothes he went to his mission in. Jack couldn't help but feel sad that toby was going to shower. It marked the end of their date.

Toby made it to the hallway before stopping and turning around. "What are you waiting for?" Those words nearly killed Jack. This was a new step in their relationship. He guessed that it was HIS Valentine's gift. Jack quickly followed after. He already couldn't wait for next Valentine's day.