#but it just sucks so fucking much to be feeling it now

[nerdlvr]

✩ mama

(MDNI)

smut , husband jeno x reader , hey mamas in a sexy way , impreg/breeding kink , just a quick lil thought blurb , big humongous ginormous jeno dick (canon) , smaller reader , no condom ofc thats the point y'all , rough dirty raw sex , doggy style ruff ruff , creampie , degradation kink , overstimulation , dacryphilia , daddy kink yikes! , pet names , requested here !

message to past self : do not ask your feral husband to give you a baby.

now you're 3 hours in, 5 orgasms later , and 8 inches deep, and your husband won't stop until he thinks you've had enough.

.

you slapped at his thigh, a helpless attempt to release the pressure he was putting on your womb.

"jen- jeno, please, s' full, i can't anymore." your choked sobs were like music to his ears, a low chuckle leaving his throat, "yeah you can mama, look at you-" he reached down to wipe your tears, his smirk growing wider.

his cock pulsed inside of you, releasing another spurt of cum into your leaking hole.

"hurts baby, hurts so good." he laughed at your words, proud of you for lasting this long, "so strong for me baby, love it when you milk my cock-" he pressed deeper into your cunt, your stomach clenching at the feeling of more cum seeping into you.

"take it, gonna look so good when that tummy starts to grow, hm? gonna want me to fuck you when your breasts are all swollen and you can barely walk?"

you nodded into the sheets, his large hand gripping the back of your neck as he pressed you deeper into the bed.

"yes jen- fuck, always want you to fuck me- need you to."

he finally released the pressure he had on you, cock slowly sliding out of your swollen cunt, your breath shaky as your body began to twitch.

"desperate little pussy- look at you, not even a drop going to waste."

you shivered as he ran a finger along your fold, chuckling as his cum remained soaked into your cunt, fingers only wet with your arousal.

he lined his length back up to your core, sinking in slowly, only a couple inches at a time. you sobbed into the sheets, the walls of your cunt burning as he teased you, "jeno please-"

he pressed in deep, hips flush against your ass as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "please what mama? don't tell me to stop- you know i can't."

he drove back into you, hand grabbing onto your hair to pull you up towards him, "say my name baby, who's the only one that can fill you up like this hm?"

you choked on your cries, voice weak as you spoke, "you, daddy only you, please please please."

he dropped you back onto the bed, hands moving to grip your ass, spreading you so he could get a clear view of you sucking in his cock.

"only me- only daddy can feed this hungry pussy, fuck you're perfect baby, made for me."

.

if you thought this was the end you were very much wrong. jeno only had one thing in mind, and he was going to get it done.

[cameronwillow]

Farm boy Cameron

Rafe Cameron x farmers daughter!reader blurb

As you’re in veterinary school, Rafe Cameron is forced to complete his public service here at the farm you work at. And he is well aware of your attraction to him.

This was requested by anonymous! I hope you enjoy!!

CW: Fingering! And my take on Farmers daughter but please check out my lovelies, @bloodibambiidoll and @rafesangelita who have great fics with farmers daughter with Rafe!!!

It was obscene. The way you were practically drooling over the rich guy, Rafe Cameron as you walked back from the barn. Being here as you were in veterinary school had its benefits and even more so as Rafe spent his probation here versus jail.

Of course you had a crush on the bad boy, the guy who had a public reputation as an asshole. A Kook as you were a middle class girl working as you went to college. Your dad was a long time employee, worked his way to the boss of the area as you were paid here. It was your honest mistake, you never ever saw any cute guys during your routine. And now, Rafe was here most of the day everyday.

He caught you staring, his lips curving into an arrogant smile. He knew he was attractive. Messy blonde hair from working, white sleeveless shirt showing his muscles as he heaved heavy hay. It made your mouth water as he grunted from the effort. You were pressed against a wall, hidden away in a corner in one of the bigger barns, taking a break when you felt someone behind you. You started to turn but a strong hand stopped you.

“Oh no, you haven’t earned that yet. You don’t get to look at me, baby.” It was Rafe’s voice, his other hand cupped your hip. Squeezing the flesh and you were pinned.

“What would your dad think? Staring a bad man like me, hmm?” He muttered against your ear, the palm holding your shoulder slipping underneath your overalls. He kneaded your tit, traveling down your stomach and snapped the band of your panties.

“I bet that little pussy is dripping. Let’s see,” He nipped your neck and let his fingers swirl against your cunt. “Oh, god you are.” Rafe clicked his tongue and pressed an open mouth kiss to your jaw. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that, baby doll. Just keep it quiet, yeah? Don’t want daddy to hear.”

Rafe circled your clit, pushing the folds together and you arched your back into him. His thick fingers coated your pussy with arousal and then he kneed apart your legs.

“Keep them open, little princess. I’m gonna make sure to hit that spot you can’t.” Rafe then pushed his two digits knuckle deep and you let out a whimper. He curled them and you had to bite down on your lip hard to keep from moaning too loud.

“Aww, I know. I know it feels good, Angel. I can’t wait to have you squeezing my cock but in the meantime…” you felt his dick against your ass as he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, rubbing it as he pumped inside of you.

“Fuck, Rafe.” You wheezed and let out a little squeak as he focused his mouth on your shoulder, sucking softly and tracing it with his tongue.

“You’re squeezing my fingers, princess. Yeah, you needed this. Needed a real man to spoil this little pussy.” Rafe groaned softly as you let out pants and quiet sounds of pleasure.

Your cum coated his hand and you chased it. Riding his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut. Rafe chuckled darkly and pulled out his fingers, shoving them into your mouth.

“Suck it clean. Can’t have daddy knowing how much of a slut his daughter is yet.”

Your lips were around the same fingers that made you cum, you rolled your tongue around them and he hummed in satisfaction.

“Yeah? You giving me a preview of what you’re gonna do to my dick, princess? Meet me here tomorrow night.”

Dividers by @rafesheaven

@bloodibambiidoll @cxrrodedcoffin @sturnioloshacker @starkeysbabygirl @rafeyscurtainbangs @evansroses @that-sarcastic-writer @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @cameronsprincess @eddiesxangel @xxladymjxx @hornyxdreams @stillwjk-channie-lixie

[gothcsz]

Wandering Hands | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~1.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javi can't keep his hands off you during a dinner with some friends.

Tags: public fingering, pussy pronouns, javi being a menace at dinner, lil bit dirty talk, no use of y/n, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i got this prompt in my ask and i had to do something with it, obvi, because i think we're all obsessed with javi's hands right? mmm, so big and strong and i def need to feel them all over my body STAT! enjoy this lil bit of filth my pretties 🖤

“Stop,” you mutter under your breath, carrying just enough weight for him to hear.

It doesn’t matter, though—Javier never listens when it comes to this. His hand is already settled high on your thigh, large and warm, his fingers teasingly close to the damp heat of your panties.

The pad of his thumb drags lazily over your stockings, grazing the delicate lace edge, making your pulse race.

He doesn’t bother responding—of course he doesn’t. That maddening smirk spreads across his face instead, the dimple in his cheek deepening as he nods at something the man across the table is saying.

His expression is cool, composed, even charming. The contrast to what he’s doing beneath the table has your head spinning.

You shift subtly, attempting to press your knees together, but he’s quicker, his fingers digging in just enough to warn you.

A sharp press of blunt nails against the softness of your thigh nearly makes you gasp. “Don’t,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against your ear before he picks up his drink and takes a leisurely sip. “Keep them open.”

“Now’s not the time, Javi,” you hiss, your voice strained as you try to keep your composure.

Around you, laughter and idle chatter fill the air, everyone engrossed in their own conversations. No one suspects a thing, yet the way his fingers start to press firmly along your inner thigh makes it harder to focus.

Ignoring your weak protests, he slides two fingers over the damp seam of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you suck in a sharp breath.

His touch is deliberate, slow strokes that rub against your aching pussy in a way that has your thighs trembling.

Arousal pools feverishly in your sex, and you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.

It’s fucking maddening—too much and not enough all at once. Your horniness is undeniable now, the fabric of your panties clinging to your slick folds. 

The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing, teasing you with each measured motion, dragging his fingers just slightly faster, testing your restraint.

You cough, desperate to cover up the soft sound that escapes you when his thumb presses firmly against your clit, circling with infuriating precision. The woman beside you turns, her brow arching in mild concern. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice hitching as his fingers rub a little harder, threatening to pull you under. “Just... just a scratch.”

Her attention lingers for a moment too long, and Javier seizes the opportunity, dragging his fingers down the soaked fabric, pressing them right against your entrance. The sudden pressure makes your thighs jerk apart involuntarily, and your breath catches.

“Oh,” you choke out, forcing a laugh as you wave a hand dismissively. “Scratch in my throat. I’m fine.”

The fakest smile you’ve ever worn stretches across your lips, and it must be convincing enough because she nods and turns away.

The second she’s distracted, Javier’s hand shifts again, this time slipping under the lace edge of your panties. His bare fingers glide over your wet and sticky cunt, and you bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, so low only you can hear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

The slow, teasing circles he draws against your clit send waves of pleasure rippling through you, leaving you squirming helplessly yet as subtly as you can in your seat, praying no one notices just how thoroughly he’s unraveling you.

Your hand moves to join his beneath the table, fingers trembling as they wrap around his wrist.

The tablecloth mercifully drapes low enough to shield the debauchery unfolding underneath, but the tension in your grip betrays your desperation.

You try to stop him, to regain some semblance of control, but his strength and determination make your effort laughable.

“Javi…” you plead softly, the syllables tinged with both frustration and need.

“What?” he murmurs teasingly, his lips quirking into that devilish grin that makes your knees weak. “I thought you said you could handle it.”

Ah, there it is. The challenge. A reminder of the words you whispered to him in bed just days ago, about wanting to push boundaries, to explore your limits. 

It’s not that you aren’t enjoying it—god knows you crave the way his hands roam your body, whether they’re gripping your ass, teasing your tits, or spreading you open while he fucks you senseless until your mind goes blissfully blank.

No, the problem isn’t him. It’s the setting.

You just don’t want to risk giving the entire room a front-row seat to your undoing.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“I can,” you reply weakly, though even you don’t believe it, not with the way your voice wavers. “Just… not he—oh.”

“Not here?” he repeats, his voice a low hum, pitched just for you. He plays with the sensitive flesh of your labia, playing with your pussy as if you were in the privacy of your own home. 

The room around you fades into background noise—piano notes mingling with the hum of voices, all of it inconsequential compared to the soft obscene sound of his fingers slick against your arousal.

He gathers it on his fingertips, spreading it over your swollen folds, and you bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he breathes into your ear, curved nose skimming against your cheek, his voice dripping with satisfaction. The warmth of his breath against your skin sends a shiver racing down your spine. “Gonna be so hard to keep her quiet.”

To anyone watching, it must look like a simple, affectionate moment—him leaning close to murmur something sweet. But there’s nothing innocent about the way his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance before sinking in.

You can barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven gasps as he curls his fingers inside you. The stretch is delicious, every movement sending sparks through you.

His thumb finds your clit, pressing against the swollen nub with maddening precision, and you have to grip the edge of the table to keep yourself grounded.

“Baby,” you whimper, your voice so soft it’s almost swallowed by the din of the dining room as you reach up to clutch at his bicep. Your hips move of their own accord, rocking subtly against his hand, seeking more. “I’m close.”

His brown eyes meet yours, dark and glittering with lust. “Entonces dámelo,” (Then give it to me)  he rasps, his voice a low, seductive command.

He curls his fingers just right, dragging them along that perfect spot inside you while his thumb flicks rapidly over your clit.

It’s overwhelming, the buildup sharp and blindingly intense. It crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling, eyes watering, as your release erupts like fucking fireworks.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers, your body shuddering with aftershocks as you struggle to keep from crying out.

You bite down on your lip so hard you taste copper, your thighs twitching uncontrollably as you ride out the pleasure.

Javier’s grin is downright sinful as he watches you fall apart. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, glistening with evidence of your release. “Damn shame I can’t shove these in your mouth right now,” he murmurs, his voice thick with mock regret. “Make you taste what a mess you made.”

He wipes his fingers on your ruined panties, then gives your thigh one final squeeze before resting his hand there possessively.

The smirk on his face as he returns to his conversation is pure arrogance, and you know he’s fully aware of the way your cheeks burn and your body still buzzes in the aftermath.

[thundersoothers]

spike, the dog (still derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: continuation of this fic and this thought about john price being a softie for his wife and the dog you found on the side of the road (y’all LOVEDDDDD this, thank u omg)

word count: 0.9k

“We are not naming the fucking dog Gremlin.”

“Pooh Bear.” 

“No.” 

You and John are sitting in the living room, staring at the dog you picked up from the side of the road a few days ago, trying to come up with a name for him.  

Convincing your husband to let you keep the dog was a challenge.  It felt like you were debating with judge, jury, and executioner.  Stakes were high.  He was sitting across from you at the dining room table, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.  His eyes were narrowed at you and his face was expressionless, giving nothing away as you plead your case. 

Somehow, you won. 

So now, here you both are, brainstorming names to replace “Puppy”.  You’re holding the dog in your arms on the couch and John is sitting across from you in his chair. 

“And where the hell did you come up with these names?” 

“I have a list.” 

“You have a list?” 

“I have a list,” you say, “of dog names and baby names.  Every girl does.” 

And then, for just a second, the room stills. 

“Baby names?” John asks. 

A shiver runs up the bottom of your spine and you sit up a little straighter.  You feel the air buzz and John’s heavy gaze on you. 

“Yeah,” you say, glancing at John and then back at the dog in your lap.  “But—Pooh Bear?” 

After a long second, he says, “No.”

“Georgie Banks.” 

“The actress?” 

“Wha— no, fucker, Georgie Banks from Mary Poppins.” 

“… I’ll consider it.  What else.” 

“Ja’Marcus.” 

“My love,” he says, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands together, looking at you seriously.  “What the fuck are you talking about.  It’s a dog.” 

“Tra’davious.” 

“I’m making a list,” he scoffs, sitting back again.  “Jesus.” 

“It’s a nice name!” you exclaim.  “What are you gonna name him, Scout?” 

He looks at you.  

You look at him. 

“No.”  Your face drops and you almost shudder.  “No, John, that’s not even funny.” 

“Oreo?”  The corner of his mouth twitches but he quickly steels himself. 

“Stop.”  You hold the dog close to your chest, horrified. 

“Rocky?” 

“No!” 

“Buddy?” 

“John.” 

“We could just call him Puppy.” 

“What is this, Bird Box?  When Sandra Bullock named her kids Boy and Girl?  We can’t just name the dog Dog.  We would sound like neglectful parents.” 

“Your friend has a dog named Cat,” John says. 

“And that gets confusing because she just got a cat.  I think she’ll have to rename Cat.  And by Cat I mean the dog.  Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head, eyebrows furrowed.  What a mess that would be. 

“We could name him after your team…?” you say, the idea popping into your head.  Then, you frown.  “I’m not calling him Kyle, though.  That’s too human.  Ghost?  He is—you know.”  You rub over the dog’s mangey back gently.  “A little ghastly, still.” 

“Riley?” 

“Who’s Riley?” 

“No one.”

You eye him.  “Must be one of your other wives…” 

He ignores you.  “It would inflate their egos too much.  They’re already insufferable enough.  And,” he adds, “they don’t need another reason to suck up to you.” 

“They don’t suck up to me,” you say. 

“Sweetheart,” he says.  “They suck up to you.” 

“A pun with Price?  Uhhhh… High?  Low?  Buy one get one?  Bogo?”  You hold up the dog, as if to present him.  “Bogo Price, son of Mr. and Mrs. John Price?” 

“You think you’re funny,” John says. 

“I think I’m hilarious.” 

“How about Mackie?  For Mack?  Soap’ld love that–Scottish for ‘my son’.” 

“… I’ll consider it.” 

“You did find him near Notting Hill.  Maybe Notting?” 

You shudder.  “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Knotting.  It’s a—I’ll explain it to you later.”  

(By later you mean never.  Explaining A/B/O to your husband who doesn’t have any social media?  And has never heard of the website Ao3?  He’d have an aneurysm and then wonder why you know about it.  And you cannot have that conversation.) 

“What are the characters from Notting Hill again?” he says, scratching his chin. He needs to shave—well. You need to shave him, rather. “We just watched it.  William Thacker, Anna Scott, uh, her shit husband, what’s his name—“ 

“Jeff King.” 

“Jeff King, yeah.  King, maybe?” 

“Look at him, John.”  You turn the dog to face him.  He wiggles in your hands and yips, his tongue falling out of his mouth.  “He’s not a King.” 

He sighs and shakes his head.  “He’s not a King.” 

“What about William’s weird roommate?  Uh, Spike?” 

“Spike,” John repeats slowly. 

You nod.  “Spike.” 

You both focus on the dog. 

“I like Spike,” you say. 

“I like Spike, too.” 

You hum, considering this.  “Spike…”  You narrow your eyes and study the dog closely, holding him tighter in your hands. 

He yawns with a high-pitched whine and then hacks.  

“Jesus,” John mutters, shaking his head. 

“Better than Georgie, Banks, or Mackie?” 

“Yeah,” John says, “look at ‘im.  He’s a Spike.” 

“He’s such a Spike,” you muse.  “He’s gonna be huge, too.  I mean, look at his ears and paws–they’re already too big for him.  Shit, he’s probably gonna be 70 pounds or 30 kilos.” 

“We need to train him.” 

“Yeah.  I can hire a trainer?  Find one online.” 

“I could get a trainer from base.” 

“I do NOT want an army dog.” 

“It wouldn’t be an army dog.  It would be a dog trained by the army.” 

You eye him.  “John.” 

“Love.” 

You sigh.  “Fine.”

“Good girl.”

note: prob gonna make wife!reader and spike a universe/series bc i loveeeee them. I hope you enjoy!!!!

posted 01.02.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

[fleurvi]

Service top Vi

cw: smut (minors dni), fem!reader

Vi is whipped. She's completely head over heels for you. She carries boxes, your bags, your heels when you're drunk, you. She pays for you to get your nails done and buys you dinner. And, to everyone else's chagrin, she won't shut the fuck up about you. She constantly finds ways to make any conversation she engages in about you. At some point, she just starts referring to you as her wife because she's so fucking sure about your relationship.

Her devotion doesn't end when you get home though. She decides the best way to show devotion is through worship. She lays you down against the bedsheets, voice firm as she tells you how beautiful you look. She travels kisses over every inch of skin she can get to, offering compliments as she goes. Her hands are gentle as she undresses you. When she travels back up to your mouth and gives you a proper kiss, you feel lightheaded, overwhelmed by the feeling of love she pours into it.

She shuffles down the bed, using her strong hands to part your thighs as she lowers between them. Her mouth is right above your pussy, and you're so worked up you might cry. She doesn't mean to keep you waiting; you're just so pretty, and she loves to stare at you. When you whine out a soft please, threading your hand through her hair, she shakes her head.

“Baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you whatever you want,” she says as she finally swipes her tongue over your pussy, sucking your clit into her mouth. She moans against you like she's devouring a five-course meal. She is.

She eats you out with the same passion she throws into everything she does for you. Your pleasure is her pleasure. She's studied your body like the piece of artwork it is. She knows how to elicit the most incredible noises from you. She presses two fingers to your hole, smiling against your cunt at the way you moan when she pushes them inside you. The added stimulation pushes you towards your orgasm. Her other arm is steady and holds you down as she works on pleasing you. Taking care of you is always her top priority. The mere act of pleasing you is a stress reliever. Though she'd deny her obvious praise kink if you asked her, she can't help the way she's encouraged when you tell her how good she makes you feel.

Your orgasm hits you, and your grip on Vi's hair becomes harsher, tugging at the hair as she continues to work you through it. “Atta girl, let it all out”, she praises as your back arches away from the sheet. When you come back down, Vi pulls her fingers from you and licks them clean. She's a little obnoxious with her noises but just wants to show you how much she loves your taste.

“Was that good for you, baby?”

You nod.

“Good. Now, how many more do you want?”

[sugawhaaa]

⋆˚✮[TXT SMUT HEADCANONS]✮˚.⋆

The kind of women they like in bed...

Warnings//genre:: oral (kai, Beomgyu) size kink (Soobin) creampie (Yeonjun) squirting (Beomgyu) shower sex (Taehyun) fingering (Beomgyu, Taehyun)

Pairing:: ot5!TXT x fem!reader

A/N:: I am determined to get my TXT content to be just as popular as my other content bc...Idk they have the fanbase but Moa's are attracted to me like a negative charge against a negative charge...

Txt masterlist:: .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊

🎧::

Small, in the sense of both height and personality, someone he can cherish.

Soobin is big guy no doubt so most women are smaller than him in the first place but that doesn't instantly catch his eye, it's the soul. Someone tender, polite, gentle, he wants someone similar to him. He wants someone to worship and pour all his love on without being pushed away or treated less than.

Soft relaxing but sexual music plays in the background as Soobin sits you in his lap, running his hands down the front of your body due to your back facing him. "So small," he leans down, resting his face against the top of your head. His hands stop at your waist and you bring a hand down to his, holding onto to two of his fingers before leaning back and resting your head near his collarbone.

"With a big personality," you chuckle and Soobin follows, his chest bouncing gently. He hums softly in satisfaction as you hold onto his hands, your hands much smaller than his.

"But you're just so cute, and small, and..." he sighs blissfully. "All mine," he hums before kissing the back of your neck, his hands trailing lower. "I love feeling your small body, watching your reactions," he plays with the hem of your shorts as he smirks softly. "And you're so tight and perfect for me,"

Sincere, a person who isn't just fucking for fun.

Yeonjun definitely has a hidden side to him: Partying, drinking, and of course, getting laid. But Yeonjun is picky. He won't pick up any hot girl at a club and take her to his hotel room, no, no, that's not his style. He wants someone loving, elegant and passionate. These three words translate into what Yeonjun calls a "Sincere woman".

Yeonjun gently holds your chin to make you look up at him as he rolls his hips into yours, his cock sliding in and out slowly but so deliciously. "You like this?" He asks lowly, his voice rough with lust as his breath hovers over your upper chest. You nod with a soft whine and he smiles, he's honestly happy that you're enjoying it so much. "I promise to make you feel so good tonight baby," He kisses your jaw tenderly but there's a hidden desperation in his kiss. You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck and shoulders and pull him closer.

"Yeonjun," You moan out before gritting your teeth.

"What is it babygirl?" He picks his head up to make eye contact as your pupils shake with raw desire.

"I-I need you," You whimper and Yeonjun hides a proud smile.

"I'm right here sweetie, I'm as close as I could possibly get to you," He kisses your sweaty forehead tenderly.

"I know," You whine and he strokes your hair back out of your face. "I just missed you so much, I need to feel you...want you to cum inside," You look up at him with those doe eyes that hold that submissive gaze Yeonjun loves oh so much.

"Of course baby, anything my girl wants,"

Adventurous, someone who will play with all his sides.

Beomgyu is quite the character in and out of bed, he needs someone who can keep up with him, therefore he needs an adventurous woman. A lady willing to indulge in roleplay or different positions or maybe put up with his antics in public places or in front of guests.

This was probably the most rushed sex you've ever had, but Beomgyu runs on his own schedule and when he asked to eat you out in the back of his car why would you say no? Now here you are, still half clothed, legs spread wide as Beomgyu buries his face in your cunt, moaning and drooling as he does so.

Beomgyu sucks on your clit hard as he dips a finger inside you, curling it up against that spongey spot that makes you squeal. The car does well to muffle the sound but the fogged up windows are a dead give away to the activities going on in the car. "Fuck," Beomgyu moans into your folds as his tongue runs laps around your clit. "You getting close?" He asks, a playful glint in his voice as he fingers you faster.

"Yes, yes!" You moan loudly and grab onto the head of the seat. "Don't fucking stop," You cry out as you feel an indescribable warmth engulf your body. "C-Cumming~!" You moan out weakly as your eyes roll back and a watery warmth jolts out from your squelching pussy. Beomgyu smiles against your core as you squirt onto his face, still licking softly.

"Good girl," He praises as he rubs your trembling thigh. "You're so hot when you squirt,"

Bold, someone willing to experience new things with him.

Taehyun is the type of guy who likes to try many different things, whether he is sub or dom, he wants to try everything. He needs someone who will understand his hunger for more is not because he is bored of the old but simply because he wants to experience every possible sensation alongside them.

"Do you think this could be a little dangerous?" Taehyun asks as he takes off his pants, tossing them aside. You pull your shirt over your head before replying.

"Maybe but I don't think there's much to worry about," You smile as you take your bra off, now fully undressed. "And if something happens we can sit on the edge of the tub or sit in the tub even," You hop into the shower and Terry follows after you. He turns on the water and he holds you close as the two of you wait for it to warm up. He hugs you from behind, sheltering you from the cold water but you could feel his stiff cock rubbing up against your ass.

"I can't wait to fuck you into the wall," He whispers in your ear, his voice lingering with a hint of excitement, burying a low chuckle. "Do you want to warm up or..." His hands trail lower, fingertips grazing down your the center of your chest down to your lower abdomen. "Indulge right away? I know how excited you get, so impatient sometimes," He chuckles as his finger circles around your clit making you gasp. "It's cute," Taehyun leans down, sucking the skin on your neck into your mouth.

His fingers part your folds, seeking more sensitive bits. He dips his fingers inside you and you toss your head back with a moan. You quickly cover your mouth as your moan echoes in the bathroom. "You were being so quiet, what happened? Did I make you lose control?"

Comforting, someone to assure and praise him.

Kai isn't obliviously to sex like so many think, he's not a little maknae anymore, but it is true that he appreciates some guidance and reassurance, it's just in his nature. He wants to make sure that he is doing good for his partner and that they're enjoying it as much as he is.

Kai sits between your thighs as you relax against the class wooden chair. You showed Kai your newest lingerie set which was a flowy little see through dress that hung just below your knees. To say the least, he was pleased by your purchase.

The mood in the room made all the sensations stronger. The lights were off except for a singular lamp on the desk in the corner of the room, the chair your sitting on is from the desk set, and the moonlight shining through the window brought the most illumination to the room. "Do you like this?" He asks out of the blue and you blush softly.

"Yes, a lot," You chuckle softly before feeling his thumb rubbing your clit. You let out a little squeak and he smiles.

"I know how much you like to set the mood with lighting and stuff," He smiles up at you sincerely, his head resting against your thigh.

[brooklynnbbg]

Now sister girl ima pretty pretty pretty please need you to write an opposite one where you start an argument with Luigi and he just decides “you know what, that’s enough from you” and just grabs your throat and shuts you up with overstimulation. Bonus points if somewhere along he smugly asks “what were we arguing about amore?” UGH I need him baddd 😩😩

♡ WARNINGS - Smut! Oral (f), unprotected p in v, choking, Luigi is mean!

♡ A/N - ANON I love you holy shit this is hot 

The air was thick with tension, the argument spiraling out of control. It rarely ever got this bad, but tonight it was awful. You two were screaming at each other, and you didn’t even remember why. All you knew was you were mad, very mad.  Lu's jaw was clenched, you could see him growing closer to his breaking point, his brown eyes blazing as you hurled another pointed jab his way. 

“You always do this,” you cried, flailing your arms at him, completely hysterical. “Acting like you’re always right, like you—”

Before you could finish, Luigi closed the distance between you in a single, purposeful stride. His hand shot up, wrapping around your throat with firm but controlled pressure, cutting off the rest of your rant.

“That’s fucking enough from you,” he practically growled, pushing you against the wall. 

Your breath hitched, your argument almost forgotten as heat pooled in your core. The dominance in his stance, the possessive grip on your throat—it rendered you speechless. His thumb stroked the column of your neck, a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes.

“You’re so fucking mouthy,” he muttered, backing you against the wall. “Always got something to say, don’t you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sharp arch of his brow silenced you.

“Not another fucking word,” he ordered, his hand leaving your throat to trail down your body. The absence of his touch made you whimper, but it was short-lived as his fingers dipped under the waistband of your shorts.

Lu's lips crashed onto yours, his kiss hot and commanding. He swallowed your moan as his fingers slid between your folds, finding you embarrassingly wet. He smirked against your lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Arguing gets you this worked up? Naughty girl.”

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. He dropped to his knees, yanking your shorts and panties down in one swift motion. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as his mouth descended on you. His tongue moved with expert precision, alternating between licking and sucking your clit until your legs trembled.

“Fuck, Lu,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his curls.

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Just as you thought you’d tip over the edge, he pulled back, his chin glistening as he looked up at you with a devilish grin.

“What was that, diavolina? I couldn’t hear you,” he teased, sliding two fingers inside you without warning. Your head fell back against the wall, a cry escaping your lips.

“You… fuck you..” you managed to choke out, your body arching into his touch, even though you tried to take back control.

Luigi laughed darkly, curling his fingers to hit that spot that made you go weak “Careful,” he warned, “Or I’ll make sure you don’t walk tomorrow.”

You were close, so close, and he knew it. His pace quickened, his fingers thrusting relentlessly as his thumb circled your clit. When your orgasm hit, it was blinding, your cries echoing in the small room. But Luig ididn’t stop.

“Too much,” you whimpered, trying to squirm away, but his free hand gripped your hip, holding you in place.

“Too much?” he mocked, leaning up to kiss you fiercely. “You’ll take everything I give you, love.”

Before you could recover, he stood and flipped you around, pressing your chest against the wall. His hands gripped your hips as he slid his cock through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit.

“Lu, please,” you begged, your voice shaky.

“Please what?” he asked, his tone dripping with smugness. “Use your words, darling.”

“Fuck me,” you said, desperate and needy.

He didn’t make you wait. With one powerful thrust, he filled you completely, a guttural moan tearing from his throat. He set a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours as he drove you higher and higher. Your moans filled the room, high pitched and desperate. “What were you mad at me about again?” he said smuggly, knowing you wouldn’t be able to respond. 

“So fucking tight,” he growled, his hand snaking around to toy with your clit. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

You could only nod, your body too consumed by pleasure to form coherent words. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with your breathless moans and his grunts of effort.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his voice softer but no less commanding. “Come for me again, amore mio. Let me feel you.”

You shattered, your second orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you trembling. Luigi followed moments later, his body tensing as he spilled into you with a low groan. He stayed there, buried deep inside you, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you both caught your breath.

After a moment, he pulled out gently and turned you to face him. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears on your flushed face. You couldn’t even remember why you were mad. 

Tags: @nicholaschavezslut69, @ddlydevotion, @italianbabydaddy, @rckerbell, @slavicdolls4mangione, @perfumeaddicted @yeeterang @days12 @v1rtualsalvat10n @bricapellan16 @sleeepytimebear @preiyers @hdh-57jcidm-blog

[ateezscupid]

reader fingering sub!yunho ♡

"It feels -- weird," Yunho whimpers as threw his head back, laying it on your shoulder. "A-And it kind of hurts…"

"Well, it's your first time." You chuckle. "And I'm trying to be gentle! But it's hard to move my fingers when you're squeezing them! We might run out of lube if you keep doing that-"

"Can you not say embarrassing things like that when your fingers are literally inside of my ass?!" Yunho hisses, his cheeks reddening as he tightens his grip on the bedsheets. His eyes are squeezed shut, and beads of sweat form at his temples. The room is filled with the sound of your labored breathing and the faint squeaks of the bedframe under the two of you.

"Fine! But, with the way your dick is twitching, I can only assume you like it~," you tease, pushing your fingers deeper inside of him, causing him to whine. Yunho's body tenses up momentarily before he relaxes with a deep sigh. The sensation is foreign but not entirely unpleasant. He's been curious about this for a while now, especially after all the things he's read and watched in secret. But the reality of it is so much more intense than his imagination could ever conjure.

"Fuck," he gasps. "I-I'm starting to-"

"Feel good?" you whisper, your breath tickling the shell of his ear. The scent of vanilla and sweat fills the room, a heady combination that somehow seems right in this moment of shared intimacy. Yunho nods, his hips involuntarily rocking back to meet your slow, careful thrusts. His body is a landscape of curves and tension, each movement a revelation of the pleasure you're bringing him.

"I could tell," you giggle in his ear. "Your hole is twitching like crazy. You like how my fingers feel, don't you?"

He nods once again. "H-How can this feel so good-?!"

"How do you think I feel when you finger me?" You laugh. "It's like your body is trying to swallow me whole, so tight and warm." Yunho's breath hitches, his eyes flying open. The burn is intense, but he's starting to get used to the fullness. His hips begin to rock more confidently, setting a rhythm that matches the pulsing of his heart.

"Now how about…" you mumble, your fingers now moving with purpose as if looking for something. "Here?"

"Huh? Wha-- AH!" His back arched immediately. Your fingers were rubbing against his prostate. The sensation was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and it was as if every nerve ending in his body had just been electrified.

"O-Oh fuck, fuck--! W-What--"

"It feels good?" you smile against his ear. "Yeah, I kept watching those prostate massage videos to figure out how to do this."

"O-Oh my god, Y/N…!" Yunho gasps, his body trembling as you continue to stroke that sensitive spot inside him. His eyes widen and his breaths come in quick pants. You can feel his muscles clench around your fingers, the intensity of his reactions making your own arousal spike.

"You like when I touch that spot, hm?" You smile. "Are you gonna cum?"

"I-I'm so -- I'm close! R-Really close!" He shudders, grinding his hips down on your fingers. "D-Don't stop! Please!" His voice is desperate, the sound of his need echoing off the walls.

"Good boy," you whisper. Yunho gripped the sheets as tightly as he could, his cock leaking precum onto the bed. You felt his insides tightening around your fingers, his breath hitching in a way that told you he was on the edge. You leaned in closer, your other hand reaching up to gently trace the line of his jaw, the stubble prickling your fingertips as you turned his face towards yours. "Look at me," you ordered softly.

His eyes stayed open only for a moment before shutting once again, the volume of his moans spiking. His back arches and his jaw is hung, hands gripping the bed sheets. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-!"

You press your lips against his, his hand rushing to grab your arm. The kiss is frantic, matching the rhythm of your fingers inside him. His tongue slips out, and you take it into your mouth, sucking gently as you keep the pressure on his prostate.

Cum spurted from his tip, painting the sheets in a warm, sticky mess as he releases himself into your hand. You keep fingering him through it, savoring the feeling of his hot, pulsing cock as he shudders and gasps against you. The smell of sex fills the room, a potent blend of arousal and satisfaction.

He lets out muffled moans, pulling away from your mouth and throwing his head back again, a weird feeling crawling up his body. From head to toe, his body trembled. It felt like you were forcing the cum out of him, each spurt making him squirm. You feel his ass tighten around your fingers, and you keep up the rhythm, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. His moans turn into whimpers, his body a tightly wound coil ready to spring.

And with the last spurt, Yunho's body goes limp, panting heavily against your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are glazed over, a look of pure bliss washing over his features. You pull your fingers out of him gently, and he gasps, the sudden emptiness making him whine. You chuckle, bringing your hand to your mouth and licking the cum off your fingers, watching him watch you with a mix of shock and arousal.

[hyunjiisa]

line cook ! chan x server reader ₊˚⊹

a @hyunjiisa mini series → “ in my next life, i’m gonna be a rockstar. (i was a ballerina in the first one.) ” pairing no. 1

school sucked. your head hurt, your feet were tired, and you just wanted to go home. spoiler- you can’t. you can’t because your schedule got switched around due to it being the end of the semester, which means you also had to switch your shifts at work. luckily your boss was an absolute angel and she made it no problem switching anything around. the place you worked at was kind of fancy, paying pretty well and you got to keep all of your tips. more than enough to pay rent til you got your degree. then, you could finally start living life the way you wanted.

setting your internal rant aside, you check yourself in the car mirror and open your door. you greeted the host at the door, he was pretty and blonde- albeit his hair looked like it was one bleach away from death. he was sweet, telling you where the manager on duty was so she could direct you to your sections. you waved to him, promising you guys would get to know each other and heading to the managers office.

a little time later, you’ve settled in and you’re waiting on a table that has what you assume is a first date going on. the guy is a dick, and it seems like his date thinks that too. he’s been talking about himself all night and it’s only been about five minutes, so you feel for the poor girl. you walk over again to take their order, and, to no surprise, he has some special request that you don’t even know if you can make happen. the girl sends an “i’m sorry” look your way and you just smile and excuse yourself to check with the cooks.

you debate just going to the bathroom and coming out a little later and telling him no, but you did not wanna make that girls date any worse. you haven’t met any of the cooks yet, or even seen them because it was your first table. you hadn’t ran food, just drinks from the soda machine. you know you’re allowed back in the kitchen but you didn’t wanna just walk in and get stared at, so you opt for going up to the counter and peering up over it. you see a boy that looks about your age, maybe a little older? he’s tall (in what world i’m just self indulging) and muscular, some sweat dribbling off of his forehead from being over a stove and you make mental note of your new work crush.

anyway, you figure you need to actually ask him so you just go with the best approach.

“uhh..”

definitely the best approach.

he glanced up at you, seemingly confused up until he actually got a good look at your face and like, basically froze. you would’ve started talking, but he was looking at you like your eyes were hanging out of your head. like, eyes wide, mouth agape, eyebrow furrowed, just full on shocked. you looked back at him, staring just as much as he was because now you had an excuse to do so. it goes on for a while, til he’s just like

“uh, i, uhm. what’s your name ..?”

“it’s ! it’s my first day on this shift, also i think the food you’re cookings burning, but i had a question?”

“oh, thanks. that’s a pretty name.. mines is here on my uh- fuck where is it ?? my name tag!!”

you giggle, taking in his flustered demeanor. not expected, but a nice surprise nonetheless. sadly, you had to actually get back to your job, so you look back up at him and ask him if he could do what you needed. he reminds you of a puppy, sweet smile resting on his face when he assures you that he absolutely can. (he definitely wouldn’t have regularly done that, but that’s for him to know.) you return his smile and go to ring in the rest of the order, bracing yourself for the rest of your shift.

you barely see him for the remainder of it, sneaking little glances and sharing looks when you go to run more food. there wasn’t much of a dinner rush, thank goodness, so the rest of the night went by smoothly. the other tables you had were average, and tips were decent so no complaints were heard.

you were closing tonight, along with the rest of the servers on your shift. after all the customers were out you took the time to introduce yourself, not forgetting to say bye to the host or thank him for earlier. giggling together with your new work friends, you finished what needed to be done and lingered a little longer than everyone else on account of the pretty boy in charge of the kitchen.

the restaurant was warm; you’d never been there at night, and you took time to admire the view. it was the middle of winter, dark and starry, and you could see cars passing by. you found yourself thinking about how weird it was that everyone in those cars had their own lives and they were living them from their own perspectives. before you could get any further into your thoughts, someone’s hand tapping on your shoulder made you turn around. to your surprise (not really,) it’s chris, standing behind you with a nervous look on his face as if he isn’t the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

“hi, how was your shift?” “it was good! was yours okay? it wasn’t that bad tonight..”

the two of you continued on about your respective days, him joking that he was stinky and greasy to see the way your nose wrinkled when you laughed and you looked up at him through your lashes just to see the way he looked at the floor as his ears reddened. you stayed until your manager kicked the two of you out and told you to get some rest. thankfully it’s nice outside, the breeze moved your hair out of your face for you and chris was still staring. you played around with some rock on the ground using your shoe, and he broke the silence for you.

“weird question but can i use your phone for something maybe? mine just died. i promise ill be quick!”

smiling, you hand your phone over unlocked. then, you watch as he opens up your contacts, adds himself to the list, snaps a picture for it and clicks save. what did he save himself as? “cute line cook”. all you can do is laugh, and you laugh so hard you probably look stupid.

“really?? cute line cook??”

“what, it’s not accurate?”

“do you really want me to answer that?”

then he puts a heart over his hand, clutching it and taking a pained expression. he leans against his car that you two were talking by, staring at you looking betrayed.

“really? i thought we were more than that. you even let me put my number in your phone.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head and you tilt it up at him. oddly enough, it feels like you hadn’t just met him for the first time earlier in the day. you feel some sort of confidence blooming over you, and you let your eyes wander to his hand that’s still by his chest. then, the way his lips and cheeks flush in the cold. you look at his car next, it’s nice. black, sleek, very him. you don’t wanna go, but you figure your kitty doesn’t appreciate you being late for dinner.

“go home, you do stink.”

he snorts, opening your car door for you and the gesture makes your tummy feel giddy. once you’re comfortable seated and smiling up at him, he gives you his parting words.

“will you text me?”

“you know i will.”

the car door slams shut and he leans against his car again to make sure you leave.

maybe school doesn’t suck that bad.

↺

a/n : sorry this took forever, mama was traveling !! happy new years lovelies i hope your year is everything you want and more !! next one will be a little more romancey but this is just a little something to hold you guys off :) smau soon too !

general taglist for this account : @cosmicalily @zelinkcrossing @hyunjiluvs @nxtt2-u @pixie-felix @0sunshinecryptid0 @jinnieboosworld @lixies-favorite-cookie @eastjonowhere @smlbch @tricky-ritz

series taglist : @modesttiger

if you wanted to be added, removed or move to either you can comment , dm me or ask on @hyunnisa !

[rueclfer]

evergreen

𖤓 part vii. | series m.list | prev | part viii.

touya had been at camp for less than 24 hours and he could already feel himself cracking. you were insufferable, stubborn, and self righteous, but it doesn't take him long to remember that you always had been.

betweens silent sips of the beer bottle twirling between his fingers, he thinks back on the summer after his sixteenth birthday- which he concluded was the last good summer before things started getting bad.

this was the year that touya had forgotten to pack deodorant for one of japan's hottest summers within the last decade. knowing you, it didn't take much convincing for you to practically beg him to take your spare. you two spent the entire summer smelling like lilac and white tea.

touya distinctly remembered all the teasing from other campers that so obviously made its way under your skin. you've always been so easily irritable. he probably spent that entire summer warning you about getting a crinkled tan line right in between your eyebrows from all the scowling.

he almost audibly laughs to himself. compared to the look on your face when you two made eye contact earlier today, he half-way wished it was that scowl instead.

touya leans his head back and lets it hit the smooth wood of the cabin wall, bringing the opening of the bottle up to his lips. this wouldn't be the first night he'd be drinking with you on his mind.

"dude, get your fucking shoes off my bed." tomura tosses a pillow off of hawks' bed, hitting touya's shoulder.

he rolls his eyes and straightens his legs, letting his feet dangle off the side of the bed.

"loser." he mutters into the back of his hand as he swipes it across his lips.

"and if you throw up on my bed, i'm setting your cabin on fire." tomura downs the remainder of the contents in his red solo cup. "y/n in it and everything, you fuckers can die together."

touya rolls his eyes with a glint of a smirk on his lips. 

“always such a romantic, shigs. you’re more than welcome to burn with us.”

"shut up, I can't stand emo on emo crime, or flirting or whatever the fuck you guys are doing." hawks slurs, swivelling back and forth on the desk chair with his cheek pressed against the palm of his hand. "y/n is just another one of touya's victims, leave them out of this."

tomura drops his head into his lap, slapping a hand over his mouth to suppress a fit of drunken giggles. hawks look over at him with a wide grin.

"that wasn't even funny, shigs." he giggles. "shut up or else touya's gonna beat your ass."

"me?" he exclaims. "you're the one who said some stupid shit, not me. i'm gonna tell y/n and have them beat your ass." he says in between laughter.

touya's eyes flicker between the two bickering and laughing back and forth in their drunken daze. if he was a bit less intoxicated, he'd have more to say to his idiot friends and their antics.

maybe that was a cue for him to leave.

touya sits for a bit longer. it would be wise of him to sober up before stepping out into the open woods and making the trek back to his cabin- especially if he had to come to face you this late. is this feeling excitement or dread?

he taps on his phone screen. 12:37 AM.

he wonders if you were done packing. it's been almost three hours since curfew. what would you be doing now? making a summer bingo card? read a book? going through his things? plotting his demise? you were always a mass of type-a unpredictability.

the cabin door suddenly swings open, bringing the bickering to a halt and inviting in the warm summer night breeze.

while the breeze rolls in, the air sucks out of touya's lungs.

"what?" you sheepishly say, suddenly self conscious over the amount of eyes on you.

touya noticed the familiar old jacket slung over your shoulder. there was really no need for one on a warm summer night like this, but of course you had to grab it.

just in case!

your voice rings in his head.

"am i interrupting something?" you cock an eyebrow, eyeing the line of empty beer bottles lining the wall. "weren't you losers just saying something about missing me? what're you guys so quiet about?"

"you're late." hawks exclaims, breaking the wall of silence. "shots. now. you need to catch up." he reaches down from under the desk and pulls out a half empty handle of vodka.

"nah, put that shit away." tomura slides himself off of hawks' bed and stumbles onto his own beside touya "i wanna go to sleep."

"pull it together, crustbucket." you huff, taking his spot on hawks' bed across from the others. "you can handle a couple more shots."

you silently said your prayers. you and touya haven't seen each other since the bonfire, and he hadn't bothered stopping by the cabin before heading off to hawks and tomura's. you weren't sure if you were unintentionally-intentionally avoiding each other, or if things really are different now.

get a grip.

you silently curse to yourself, accepting the handle of vodka that you were sure had been passed around many of the other counselors that had stopped by earlier.

you squint your eyes shut in anticipation before tipping the bottle back, taking in a deep swig of the lukewarm alcohol.

you hold your breath through the burning sensation crawling down your throat. a beat passes. then two.

your eyes slowly open and catch touya's. he doesn't notice his lips curling into a smirk or his head nodding in approval as you pass the handle over to him.

you were grateful that in this weather, with this alcohol settling in your stomach, the heat prickling your cheeks and ears could pass off as nothing.

"where'd you learn how to do that?" he casually brings the spout up to his lips, the smirk never disappearing.

"you don't think i know how to drink?" you cock an eyebrow at him.

"can't i be impressed?" he playfully rolls his eyes. "you used to be such a wimp when it came to this stuff."

you don't reply, but instead press your lips together and avert your gaze down to your shoes.

if they were kids again, touya would take this as a success. you don't let him win often- or at all, really, but there's something bitter laced with your silence.

things feel different.

a/n: ok time to check in how r we feeling abt this fellas!!!! i rlly do writing shigs n hawks like this like i lowkey think they should all kissssss heh

tags:

@iluv-ace @bitchyfestivalbouquet @redr0sewrites @babylambdietcoke @bnhabadass @hanmastattoos @1ndee @starsryi @nesrynsblog @twoplayergaymers @suksatoru @ita606 @pookiebear16 @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @in-the-marina-trench @haruhi269 @itgetzweird08 @ilophilia @chimimon @emluvs-sugu @punishblue @whorror-complex @akumakitsune21 @maddie-rose-1 @ixeyi @commonmisery @ggriwm @exselily @kryscent @starrmage @vannyinthestars @burnishingbagels @soobhns @kaybug88 @lantsovheiress @0skullyard0 @albakugo @sleepyk0dyz

[thef1diary]

dirtbag!carlos is filthy…. I LOVE IT

can you do one with inexperienced reader and he loves how timid she is?

— thank you!! I’m loving the innocent reader aspect a lil too much lately 🫣 18+ content below

Carlos always had a way of making you feel small—not just in stature, but in how effortlessly he unraveled every ounce of composure you thought you had. You were sitting on the edge of his bed now, naked, your thighs pressed tightly together, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to avoid his gaze. It was impossible, though; Carlos had a presence that demanded your attention, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your stomach flutter.

“You’re always so shy with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost teasing, as he kneeled between your legs. “But you’ll let me see everything tonight, huh? All mine to play with.”

Your face burned as he spread your legs gently, his large hands firm on your thighs. The cool air brushed over your already soaked folds, making you shiver, and he chuckled low, the sound vibrating straight to your core.

“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, his thumb grazing lightly over your clit. The simple touch made you jolt, a gasp escaping your lips. “You’re dripping, nena. Tell me, have you ever been this wet for anyone else?”

“N-no,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I’ve never—”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into that cocky smirk that made your knees weak. “Never let anyone touch you like this before?”

You shook your head, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I’ve only tried… by myself,” you admitted, your voice shaky.

Carlos’s smirk deepened. “Tried?” he echoed, sliding his thumb lower, just barely brushing over your hole. “Couldn’t make yourself cum, could you?”

You shook your head again, biting your lip as embarrassment washed over you.

“That’s because these pretty little fingers of yours weren’t enough, princesa,” he murmured, lifting your hand to kiss your fingertips. “You needed someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone like me.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer, his warm breath fanning over your soaked folds. “But this tight little cunt,” he muttered, almost to himself, “it’s not ready for my cock yet. Might be too much for you to handle.”

Before you could respond, his tongue flicked out, gliding over your clit in a soft, experimental stroke. Your hips jerked off the bed, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

“Easy, nena,” he murmured, his voice muffled against you. “I’ve got you.”

He took his time, his mouth moving against you in slow, deliberate strokes that made your head spin. His tongue pierced through the haze of pleasure, the metal ball grazing over your sensitive nub with just enough pressure to make you whimper.

“Carlos,” you gasped, your hands flying to his hair, tugging helplessly as he sucked gently on your clit, his tongue working in languid circles that left you trembling.

“Hmm,” he hummed against you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still. “So fucking sweet. You’ve been hiding all this way, haven’t you?”

You nodded weakly, unable to form words as he doubled down, the warmth of his mouth overwhelming. He spread your folds apart with his tongue, dipping into your hole before returning to your clit. The soreness of your untouched cunt melted into pleasure, an intense heat building low in your belly that you’d never felt before.

“Let go for me,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Show me how good I make you feel, princesa. I want to hear you scream my name.”

And then his mouth was back on you, relentless and unyielding, his tongue and lips working in perfect sync until the knot in your stomach snapped. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your hands clinging to his hair for dear life.

When you finally came down, he pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, his smirk returning as he sat back on his heels. “Told you, didn’t I?” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You just needed me to teach you.”

“Can you teach me more?” You asked, almost timidly, and were met with a wicked smirk from him, already revealing his response.

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[sscieloz]

Unnie’s sweet girl

Yu Jimin x Ning Yizhuo

Synopsis: Ningning is exhausted. Aespa’s 2024 schedule has been cramped for the entire year, and SM isn't of any help, with the way they keep fucking her over in every situation possible. She's stressed, overwhelmed, and upset. Thankfully, her unnie knows just what she needs to forget about all that.

Warnings: smut. breastfeeding. mentions of blood & anxiety. ning just needs to suck on some titties to feel better tbh that’s what this is about. you name it now

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: FIRST OF 2025!!! love that 😤😤

—

Ningning is exhausted. Aespa’s 2024 schedule has been cramped for the entire year. The girls spent months without a break, bouncing between practice rooms, award attendances, and airports no matter how exhausted they were. The price of being SM idols had hit them especially hard, this year— more than anything, the company keeps treating them like dolls. No breaks, no opinions, no excuses. They’re nothing but a form of profit, unable to do anything but obey orders and act like puppets 24/7.

It’s rough for all of them, naturally. Still, even though Karina, Minjeong, and Giselle are just as exhausted as she is, Ningning still gets it the roughest. All because of that bastard company— the one who went so out of their way to scout her back in China, with their xenophobia and misogyny. Their endless sabotaging will to be the end of her, Ningning knows it. Everyone does so, too.

They’ve been doing so more than usual over the last few months, somehow. It’s no news that SM has been cutting her from brand deals, fan meetings, and fashion show appearances— even though Donatella's emails are frequent.

She wants Ning to be her it girl. It’s what she was born to be, the woman tells her. Ningning wants it so bad, too.

Frustration gnaws on her stomach, building up her throat until she’s so disgusted and disappointed with the company’s blunt xenophobic attitudes her entire body trembles, as she sweats and gulps in hopes this uneasy sensation will soon fade.

It doesn’t. Never does, for a fact. Yizhuo should be used to it, by now; it’s been weeks since she’s pretending not to notice her constant trembling, the way her hair keeps falling out despite not being bleached or trimmed in months, her clothes getting looser… being an idol is hard enough, with the amount of expectations and personas she’s supposed to live up to, and SM does an excellent job of making every second of Ningning’s life a living hell.

At least she knows she’s not alone in her miserable feelings. Just like Aespa’s members blossom together in every victory they get to celebrate, their struggles are rather similar. It’s easy to tell how they’re all barely pushing through: Minjeong’s body is covered in bruises, Giselle’s just recovered from an allergic reaction that is so bad her eyes are still puffy, even after weeks of treatment, and her coughing fits haven’t yet ceased. Karina is the only one who still seems somehow unharmed, pulling off their scrutinizing routine with a smile on her face.

Ningning knows she’s trying to keep it together so they won’t break, but it’s an unspoken truth that their bodies will soon give in if they don’t get some rest.

She was currently in bed, regretting her life choices after Giselle murmured a bland excuse and left their shared hotel room to stir off her own nerves on some other idol’s account. Not that Ningning minds it, of course. If anything, she’s envious. As much as she loves the rapper’s confidence to go have her fun and screw a bunch of idols whose identity she refuses to reveal to her bandmates, a part of Ningning also wishes for the guts to risk it all too. To allow herself to have some fun, just for one night.

Heaven knows how much she needs it.

Instead, Ningning’s boring self is entertained by her favorite TV show, Love island, in the company of her favorite plushies, the ones she takes with her everywhere, wondering when she became that lost in life.

Her sheets feel too hot. Ning’s sweating, even though the AC has been turned on for ages now. Suddenly, she can’t breathe. It’s too much, she can’t keep going like this. It hurts. The pain of existence hits her like a strong hit of wind, cutting through her chest and placing the heaviest burden on her heart. It infiltrates in her lungs, and she can’t breathe. Ningning’s hands go to her chest, trying to get the air she so desperately needs, but it does nothing to ease her suffocation.

There isn’t much she can do, then. Usually, Ningning would practice the exercises her therapist recommended to her, but her mind is currently too troubled to focus on anything but her agony. She chokes on air, pausing her the TV so she has at least something to occupy her hands with.

Thankfully, a knock on the door pushes the maknae’s darkest thoughts to the back of her mind. Ningning is soon presented to her leader’s smiley face, then, as the oldest enters her room without an invitation.

Not that she needs one, anyway. Karina is every bit of the perfect, caring girl she portrays herself to be on camera— she doesn’t need an invitation to her maknae’s bedroom. The leader always makes sure everyone around her is safe and cared for, often going out of her way to take care of others.

“Hi, Ningie,” Karina says, with a muffled voice as the youngest hugs her with a strength that is nearly suffocating. She doesn’t mind, though. If anything, Karina chuckles, trying to hug her back despite having both of her hands busy. “I thought you looked a bit down today, so I brought some snacks to cheer you up.”

In the older girl’s arms, Ningning melts. As always, Karina always knows what her members need, sometimes before they do so themselves.

Ning buries her head on the crook of Karina’s neck, pliable in the girl’s arms. She’d accept everything Karina suggested, eager to please her leader.

“Thank you, ‘Rina.” She murmurs, still clinging onto Karina’s neck like a koala. There are no complaints— instead, steady arms circle her waist and the maknae is urged up, locking her legs around Karina’s waist as the leader carries her to bed like she weighs nothing.

To avoid the leader’s worried gaze, Ningning gets busy with arranging the snacks the older girl had gotten for them once Karina delicately places her down on the bed. If the leader took as much as a glance at Ningning, she’d be able to see right through her. And the last thing the maknae wants is to be vulnerable like that.

She could handle herself, just like she’s always done.

Yet it’s hard to not fall apart when the eldest adjusts herself next to her and brings her closer until there’s barely room for air, as they cuddle and watch a random couple have clothed sex on the TV. As much as Karina frowns at Ningning’s choice of entertainment, she doesn’t comment on it.

Ning’s starved. It’s always like that when the leader is present; a few words of validation, some head pats thrown around and she’s sold, completely surrendered to the idol’s mercy.

A mess, that’s what she is— mostly one of the consequences of being thrown around to the public as soon as she could walk. In her 22 years of life, she’s attended so many survival shows and singing competitions that work became more than just a part of her routine, it defined her entire self. After some time coping with her feelings, Ningning came to understand that her lonely life led her to be touch-deprived to an embarrassing amount. She craved people’s recognition, their praises, and most of all, their uttermost affection.

Usually, this desperate need of hers would be carefully hidden in a quiet, obscure corner of her brain. But Ningning can’t help it, at the moment. Not when her unnies’ validation hit so deep.

Instead of being annoyed with the maknae’s clinginess, Karina sighs, brushing her thumb against Ningning’s mouth. Her lips are bruised and sensitive, but because it’s Jimin, she doesn’t mind.

Karina can do to her as she pleases.

“Ningie…” Her voice is low, almost as if she’s afraid Ningning would break. To avoid that, the maknae invites her in with an open mouth. As if they were made for that, Karina’s lithe fingers slide easily, depriving her of any clear thoughts. “I thought you had that handled. Have you been going to therapy?”

It’s Ningning’s turn to be annoyed. She moves her head abruptly, choosing to focus on her balcony’s view instead of Karina’s worried gaze. “You know we don’t have time for that, Jimin. Or for anything else.”

Anxiety is a fairly common disorder. It’s hard not to be so anxious about everything when they’re constantly overstimulated from the time they wake up until they go to sleep. Because of that, Ningning would often be caught chewing on her lips or biting her nails until they bled, in hopes of calming herself off from her overwhelming mind. During better days, her unnies used to tease her nervous mouth— she just had to have something to occupy herself with, in order to calm down.

Fortunately, her therapist had helped her find better alternatives to her harmful tendencies. With time, Ningning started to feel better and less anxious in her daily life. So she decided to discharge herself from her sessions.

It was obviously a dumb decision. Not that she would ever admit it, much less in front of her leader, who’s already so worried about all of them.

Although Karina doesn’t judge her. She never does, for a fact. The leader has seen Ningning in her darkest moments, helped her through panic attacks, bathed her drunk self, and sang her to sleep so many times the maknae couldn’t even count. They’ve laughed, cried, and gone through nearly everything together. Karina knows Ning’s issues, likes, dislikes, and preferences more than Ning does so herself. She knows what the maknae wants— or better, what Ningning needs.

There wasn’t anything she could possibly hide from her bandmate, leader, and most loyal friend.

“My poor baby.” Karina pouted, as if the mere thought of Ningning being uncomfortable was enough to leave her twice as upset. “You’re so stressed, aren’t you? Those months have been tough, for sure. Don’t worry about anything now, though. Unnie’s going to take care of you.”

No other word was necessary to know the comfort Ningning needed.

With eased practice, Karina unclasps the hook of her bra, getting rid of her shirt soon after. It’s hard not to stare at her bare torso; Aespa’s leader is perfect in every way, especially with her pristine skin and her big, perky breasts, begging to be touched, adored. Her gentle hands guide Ningning’s mouth to her nipple, smiling faintly at the maknae’s eagerness.

It’s a routine they’ve done a few times, before, so both of their moves are precise and forward rather than awkward or uncertain, even.

Ningning’s worried, troublesome thoughts vanish within seconds, and her content hums send a shiver straight to Karina’s core. Although the feeling is promptly ignored, so she can focus on the needy, whiny girl on her lap. It’s time to take care of her baby girl, only.

Drool leaks from the maknae’s mouth, desperate as always to have her leader’s big, juicy tits all to herself. Ningning’s own clit pulsates as she suckles on Karina’s breasts, tracing circles around her areola with her tongue before gently nibbling on her nipple.

“That’s it, baby girl. Take as much time as you need.” Karina reassures the maknae, running her pointy nails through Ning’s scalp in a gentle caress. “I’m always here to take care of you.”

Even though Ningning knows there’s no need to be exasperated, a part of her can never help it. Not when Karina uses that soothing tone, the one reserved for the times when the youngest is feeling the most vulnerable, craving attention. It melts her completely; Ningning’s panties are soaked as she attempts to get Karina’s entire breast to fit in her mouth.

How pathetic she must look: so small and vulnerable, latched onto her leader’s body, so messy the gushy sounds of her mouth surpass the TV noise. These are the times when Ningning’s reminded of how much taller and stronger than herself Karina actually is, even though the eldest rarely flexes or comments on it.

In fact, she gets rewarded for her mess with a laugh from Karina, which deepens the heat in her core. Small acts of validation have always affected the most— like the subtle glances the leader would sometimes send in her direction, when Ningning aced a difficult part of their choreography, or even small moments like the current one, with a laugh or a brush of fingers on Ning’s skin.

It’s always more enough to get her on fire.

Yizhuo loses track of time, lost in the paradise Karina offers her. At some point, the leader holds her chin and guides her mouth to her other nipple, but other than that, the maknae is content on emptying her brain’s thoughts just as she had been told. Soon enough, she’s too hot, bothered by the aching feeling in her cunt to keep suckling any longer. Ningning’s pussy is throbbing, pulsating as she rocks herself against the older girl’s lap for some relief.

While it does work— the friction between her clit and panties is much welcomed, Yizuho still wants more. So she moans, loud and clear as her fingers make their down inside the leader’s toned abdomen to announce Karina’s tits are no longer enough.

“Unnie…” She whimpers, looking at Karina through her lashes. She knows how Karina likes her the most, and there’s nothing more she likes to do but please her leader. “Unnie, please. Touch.”

Ningning’s last words are rushed, as impatient as her unsettlement in between Karina’s thighs. It’s not her fault, obviously. If anything, it’s solely Karina’s, for spoiling her rotten. The maknae’s hands flutter to her arms, then to her neck, placing kisses on the corner of Karina’s mouth for what it feels like an eternity.

“Are you all messy, my love? Do you want my help, is that it?” Karina’s voice is drenched in fake nonchalance, adoring the lost gaze in her maknae’s eyes.

She grabs Ningning’s hand, taking her time as she kisses Ningning’s ruined nails, unaffected by the dry blood beneath their skin from how much they’re picked on.

There’s only one thing Karina likes to do more than giving Ningning everything she wishes: making her beg. Getting Yizhuo’s pretty knees bruised from the time spent on her knees is Jimin’s favorite activity, indulging her brattiness until all that’s left are pretty lips and obedient aura, greedy and ready to be played with like a doll. It’s an opportunity she waits eagerly for.

But Ningning had been so stressed lately… She spent so many weeks bottling up her feelings, and made sure to use her manners and address Karina with the honorifics she usually refuses to use, arguing that they’ve already gotten past the need of formal language.

Who’s Karina to deprive her of anything?

One small, shy nod from Ningning and the leader is ready to grant all her wishes.

After helping the maknae out of her pajama shorts, Karina’s knuckles brush her pussy through her panties. There’s a wet spot on her entrance, one Yizhuo closes her legs to cover after she feels Karina’s burning gaze on her pussy.

“Look at how wet you are just from sucking on my tits, Ningie.” Karina grips Ningning’s thighs, preventing the maknae’s to do so as she murmurs, enamored with the sight of her beautiful girl. “I guess you must really like them. Do you, baby?”

Ningning nods with enthusiasm this time, rocking against the girl’s fingers in hopes of being touched.

Still, her answer doesn’t satisfy her unnie enough. Pushing Yizhuo’s panties aside, Karina slaps her pussy twice before gathering some slick and circling the maknae’s clit, shushing her whines with a quick kiss.

“I’d like an answer, Ning.” Karina’s too soft on her. Even with the subtle reprimand, the leader doesn’t stop touching her cunt.

Doesn’t stop building up the familiar knot in her lower abdomen, the one who makes Ningning so driven by lust she can’t even see past the little black dots that adorn her vision.

Ning’s answer comes in heavy pants, and she’s encouraged to rock her bare pussy against Karina’s hand, this time. “Yes! Yes, I love it unnie. Your tits are the best, I love to suck on them. I’d do it all the time if you’d let me— ah!”

Karina adds a finger to Ningning’s soaked entrance, loving the way she’s so responsive to her touches. The action sends joints through Ningning’s body, making her grasp loudly as Karina enters her deeply.

“More fingers, unnie.” She tests the waters, biting her lips to keep herself from smiling when Karina raises her eyebrows in response. “Please?”

Yizhuo’s good manners are rewarded with two of Karina’s fingers. They slide in easily, thrusting in and out with swift motions on her soaked slit. The sudden invasion erupts a burning sensation that mixes up deliciously with pleasure, so good it’s addicting.

“That’s my sweet girl.” Karina praises, using her free hand to grab and pinch Ningning’s nipples beneath her tank top. “Always so good for unnie. You’re perfect in everything you do, Ningie. Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now. So sexy…”

Yizhuo is absolutely sure she’s going to explode. Karina’s words, along with her fingers and the wet kisses she places the maknae’s shoulders are more than enough to send her to the edge. She feels her orgasm coming up embarrassingly fast, her inner walls tensing up to prepare for the overbearing feeling.

Her leader feels her clench too, and smiles even more.

“You can cum anytime you want, sweet girl.” Karina tells her, using her thumb to play with the maknae’s clit just how she knows Ningning likes it.

The effect is immediate: with a high cry, Ningning orgasms, holding onto Karina as her legs tremble furiously throughout her orgasm. She loves the sensation: the heat of her body feeling tingly all over, working its way down through her lower abdomen until she’s left panting, lightheaded from pleasure.

“No more, unnie.” She whines when the leader’s fingers doesn’t stop moving inside her. When her attempts of leaving Karina’s lap are unsuccessful, Ningning resumes to grabbing her bandmate’s wrist. “’M too sensitive. No more.”

Karina laughs, giving in to Ningning’s wishes as the maknae buries her face onto her neck once again. “Okay, okay. No more.” She runs her hands up and down the maknae’s back, soothing her until she’s calm again. “You were so good for me, Ning. Truly unnie’s sweet girl.”

Although she can’t see Yizhuo’s face, Karina is positive her bandmate’s face is all red, flushed with embarrassment as if she weren’t cumming all over her fingers moments ago.

“Thank you, unnie.” Ningning murmurs, kissing Karina’s cheek as she leaves her lap this time. Karina merely shakes her head, grabbing the maknae’s chin as she places a chaste, gentle kiss on her lips instead.

What an honor it was, to be the one to make Ningning cum all over. Karina adored her maknae, and she’d gladly do anything to make sure Ningning was happy and well.

“You do know I’m here for everything, right? Please don’t shut yourself off for any of us, Ningie. We just want to help you.”

She’s worried about her, naturally. Ningning knows that no matter what happens, her bandmates will always view her as the awkward, shy trainee they met years ago.

They don’t need to worry, though. With them by her side, Ningning feels strong enough to go overcome all of her demons and difficulties.

“I know, ‘Rina.” Is what she tells her unnie, instead. After they get their clothes back on, Ningning clings onto her again, opening one of the snacks as Karina turns up the TV’s volume. “I love you. Thank you for being here, always.”

Karina hugs her with full strength, laughing when Ningning complains about the lack of air. “I love you too, baby. You’re unnie’s sweet girl, ok? I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Love island’s drama soon catches their attention, and they spend hours lost on the reality show, in a warm bubble. Ningning doesn’t even recall the anxiousness she felt earlier, and another feeling takes place in her chest as she realizes how lucky she is to have someone to take care of her.

Love.

[igotanidea]

(6) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

A/N: I'm damn aware it took me ages, I;m sorry! But - as many people asked for it (@pookieisme4life :D) and I DID HEAR YOU ALL, I hereby give you the preludium to the finale!! :D

MDNI!

TW: mention of self-harm/suicidal thoughts, brief description of rough s*x, bit of violence, swearing

***

FUCK!!

She felt like yelling, screaming, falling to the ground, tearing her eyes out, cutting her wrists, anything to get rid of this heavy feeling in her chest.

SO FUCKING STUPID

Falling into the same pattern of behavior as many more before her and – most probably – many more after her.

She should have known better.

No man in relationship ever leaves the girl for a lover

NO MAN.

EVER.

And yet she thought that him… that Dick… that he would be different.

She thought-

STUPID IDIOTIC IDIOT WITH STUPID UNREALISTIC BELIEFS.

Damn, it sucks to be a woman sometimes.

She hated herself.

Not only because of this stupid dickish Dick Grayson, but also because she acted like a piece of shit towards another girl.

Crossing out every single value she ever held dear to her heart.

Idiot.

***

“So, did you have fun?”

“Sienna-“

“Was she fucking better?!”

“Sienna, honey-“

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare calling me honey, right now!” she lunged at him, trying to slap his cheek, scratch his oh-so-fucking-stupid-pretty-face. To hurt him in any way possible, that could never ever measure the amount of pain she was feeling. Too bad Dick could easily predict her every move and block it with zero effort.

“Just listen to me-“ he grabbed both her wrist and held it to his heart. He should have known that her initial reaction that was almost shockingly calm would turn into a blind rage sooner or later.

Clearly sooner.

“You are –“

“A liar, a cheater and unworthy of your attention.”

“That’s not even close to truth.” Sienna struggled against him.

“What can I do to make it better?” – despite letting go off all the pretenses and running after the girl that really mattered to him?

“Nothing. We’re done here.” Finally she managed to wriggle free, walking towards the wardrobe and started throwing his clothes out.

“Don’t say that-“

“I will say whatever the fuck I want right now!” jackets, shirts, pants and even socks flew In every single direction in the room.

“Stop it- Sienna- Come on- “ he grabbed his favorite piece of clothing before it landed on the ground – “Come on-! Sienna! Stop it-!” before she realized what was happening, he was holding her waist, pressing her against the wall.

The tension in the room were tense enough to stop them from making any move, and yet, for a single moment he was way more scared than in any other life-threatening situation he encountered as Nightwing. She was angry. He saw it in her eyes. But there was also vulnerability and some sense of longing. Dick wasn’t exactly sure what this longing was for, but that look- that look of bambi Sienna put on her face made him act completely recklessly.

He kissed her.

No – not just kissed, that would be a heavy understatement.

He consumed her.

That masculine energy and confidence he was always sporting, took a very surprising form of dominance.

His lips moved with hunger, forcing her to submission, shutting down any objections she might have had, causing her body to respond out of pure instincts, moaning and melting into his arms.

Clothes flew around the room again, but this time for much different – arguably more pleasurable reasons.

He fucked her hard and rough, ending with deep, red, bloody scratches on his back and leaving little dents in the wall due to the way the bedframe kept on hitting it.

And even as he became almost brutal, she never told him to stop. If anything – begged for more, pulling him closer, taking him deeper.

As if the pain he was giving and receiving could in any way make up for the fact that for the entire time they fucked he was seeing y/n’s face.

***

“You almost ruined the entire mission.”

He couldn’t even care much enough to respond.

“Nightwing.”

“Uh-huh….”

“Do you realize you could have compromised – “

“Yeah, whatever-“

“I shall not tolerate-“

Dick rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You are being insubordinate. Do not try to act like your brother. Teenage rebellion doesn’t suit you.”

“Teenage rebellion? Huh! Funny you say it, B, because if anyone, you are acting like a spoiled 5 year old, who gets mad and pouty when someone does a step without his permission.”

“I don’t understand what is happening to you-“

“Of course you fucking don’t!” he finally yelled, spinning around angrily, ready to fight Batman. Instead, however, his eyes grew a little wider in sudden realization. He was not a fucking pawn. He was not a fucking piece of a puzzle Bruce was trying to form to his own liking. (bright discovery for a man his age if you allow me to be a “tad” sarcastic). With that realization he jumped out of the ledge of a building like a acrobat he was and rushed to her apartment.

“NIGHTWING!”

“FUCK YOU BATMAN!”

He was still broken-hearted but for some silly reason, yelling those words into the night, illuminated by Batman’s symbol adjourning the sky like a beacon of hope felt exhilarating. Damn, next thing he knew, he could be joining Jason in his little vendetta against Bruce. How fun would it be? Two brothers, joined by circumstances and similar history, trying to get justice for-

Focus.

“Right, right, focus…” he muttered to himself. “Y/N.”

No matter what, he was going to make things right between them.  

***

Where the hell could she be at 3 am?!

Partying? Not her.

Getting drunk at the bar with guys all over her? Not for long, once he beat them all to shit.

Staying at friend’s? Maybe, but then why was her phone on the nightstand, flickering with unread notifications from a few hours ago?

“Y/N?!” he cried out into the silence of the apartment, hoping against hope that she’d answer.

She was not in the bedroom, bathroom or in the living room.

“LET GO!!”

Oh, so there she was-

Outside.

Clearly in danger.

Dick rushed to the balcony to asses the situation, but before he could do anything, she was knocked down and dragged into a car.

“Y/N!!!” he yelled desperately, but it was no use as the black SUV (the fuck it always had to be black SUVs) took off with a squeal of tires, raising a cloud of dust.

“FUCK!”

There was not much he could do at the moment.

“Come with me.”

 “Huh!”

“Jeez. Chill out, Blue.” a masked persona that appeared out of nowhere, scoffed at him, easily holding back the punch Dick aimed with his escrima sticks.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I know where they took her.”

“huh?”

“your girlfriend.”

“She’s not- well she is, but technically-“

“Focus, idiot!” the person smacked his head. Not hard enough to cause any real damage, but hard enough to made him come back to reality.

Reality in which Y/N was straightforward kidnapped.

“how do you know—”

“I just know. And now I’m your best shot at getting her back in one piece.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust? Ha! God forbid you’d be so foolish to trust me.”

Dick scoffed.

“Where did they take her?”

“Just follow me.”

And just like that, he followed a stranger into danger.

And despite it sounding pretty lightly due to the rhyming, this self-appointed mission was about to change the lives of not one, not two, but a whole group of people.

And maybe – just maybe – some of them – would end up irreversibly changed.

Last part will be the grand finale!!

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p

@leovergurl

[lixiemissexotic]

7:00 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝗼ఌ

frat boy fwb geto who fucks you senseless in a bathroom at a house party. he was such a whore for you just as much as you were for him which made it all the more better. alcohol was running though your body making everything seem fuzzy and the heat between your legs even more unbearable.

geto didn’t care where you two fucked or if anyone could hear or see you, he just wanted to be balls deep in your dripping wet cunt.

you were currently sat on the bathroom table with your legs loosely wrapped around geto’s waist and his cock bullying its way inside you. you could feel his fat cock in your stomach, he always knew how to make his girl feel so fucking good. your hands made their way to the sides of his neck holding onto him while he continued roughly digging in and out of your sweet cunt.

“pussy always so fuckin wet f’me ma”

your pretty eyes were rolled to the back of your head already dumb on his cock, loud moans and uneasy breaths left your parted glossed lips.

“f-fuckin me soo damn good, s’deep daddy nrgg”

he pulled you into a sloppy kiss sucking your tongue meaning into your mouth before moving down to your neck. “my pretty little fuckin slut, gonna mark you up so all these pervs to see”

you loved the idea of men looking at you just to see your body littered in marks that suguru had left on you, it made you feel like you were really his girl. your pussy cleaned at the thought and he could feel you squeezing him , fuck he’s close.

his thumb rubbed fast circles that matched his fast rough strokes “you like this shit hu mama, can feel you squeezin my cock do tight”

your head fell back and your mouth opened forming an “o” shape as you felt yourself coming undone all over suguru’s long cock.

suguru thought you we’re beautiful like this, messy hair, teary eyes, trembling legs and head filled with only thoughts of his cock. perfect.

“daddyy please please pleasee m’cumminggg”

“ask properly princess” he knew exactly what you wanted, his cum nice and deep inside your pretty little pussy that was squirting all over his thick cock right now.

he was already at the brink of nutting deep inside you but like the good girl you are you clenched around his cock staring at him with fucked out eyes trying to gather your words.

“c-cum inside daddy” who was he to deny such a pretty girl who asked so nicely

his thrusts became sloppier and you could feel him stutter in motion, he wasn’t sure if it was all the alcohol or the weed or your just your pussy but he felt euphoria coursing through his entire body as he shot his load inside you.

he pulled out and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead

“that’s my girl”

[rambling-at-midnight]

Whatever You Need

Request: Jason helping reader through their period

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Summary: Your period takes you by surprise. Luckily, Jason's there to take care of you.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry this took so long... I started four different Jason fics, which means none were finished. But they should be finished and posted sometime soon.

Sprawled on the couch in your pajamas, watching an episode of The Great British Bake-Off that you’ve seen at least twice before, you feel the first twinge of pain in your abdomen. You don’t think much of it at first, which is a mistake. There are still two days before your period is supposed to start, and you ate ice cream after dinner even though you’re lactose intolerant and ran out of Lact-Aid a couple days ago. You figure you’ll head to the bathroom to deal with the consequences of your actions if the need arises, but you’re too comfortable to move when the weighted blanket on top of you has a name and that name is Jason Todd.

You’ve been on bedrest (or couchrest) for the past week and a half after a bad fall in the rain during patrol twisted your ankle. It swelled to twice its normal size. The upside was that it happened during winter break so you didn’t have to make the choice between limping to class or skipping. The downside was that you wanted your superhero persona to have more of a presence with Gotham’s goons. As a part-time hero, unlike Jason and most of his family, you get much less respect when suited up than, say, the Red Hood.

As a contestant’s dough fails to rise and they begin to have a breakdown on the screen, your stomach cramps again.

Sometimes, if you ignore it, the pain will go away. You’re too comfortable to get up now.

To distract yourself, you run your fingers through Jason’s messy curls. He doesn’t have a wash routine, so they’re always frizzier than Dick’s, but you’ve never minded. He’s devastatingly handsome either way. At least like this he looks a little bit less like something come to life straight out of your fantasies. He’s just a little more real.

Jason hums sleepily and pushes his head into your hands, a bit like a cat nuzzling at you. It’s been a lazy day for you both. You’ve been in the same position on the couch for hours—you on your back, half-watching the show, half-dozing, and him on his stomach in the cradle of your legs, head pillowed on your stomach, not even pretending to watch the show, judging by his closed eyes.

Your stomach cramps again, and this time you feel it—the ache even lower, and a wet heat blooming between your thighs. “Oh, fuck me.”

Jason takes a minute to respond, still interested in your fingers that make his entire body tingle when you massage in just the right way. Then he cranes his neck up, brow furrowed and bottom lip jutting out with his confused frown. “Okay?” He starts to sit up, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you draw your legs up and out from under him and roll off the couch.

“No, not literally,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck—did I stain the cushion?” It was no big loss—you’d found the couch on the side of the road and Jason helped you bring it up to your apartment and sanitize it—but a bloodstain would stand out on the light brown color.

“Oh,” he says with realization as you run to the bathroom and slam the door behind you. “The couch is good!” he calls.

Your pants aren’t. It looks like someone died between your legs. You’ve always had heavy periods, especially the first couple days, accompanied by strong cramps. If you get ahead of them and take pain meds, they’re not too bad. Sometimes you can even patrol. But playing catch-up with ibuprofen is a recipe for disaster.

The rest of the day is going to suck.

Because you always feel gross when you’re on your period, and because no amount of wipes would fully clean up the mess between your legs, you hop into the shower and turn up the heat until your skin is bright pink. Jason pops in for a second to drop off a change of underpants and sweats, then ducks out just as quickly.

Turning off the water starts the race against time. As quickly as you can, you apply your preferred hygiene product before any more blood can leak down your leg. Then you towel off and shrug on the new clothes. You still feel icky, but the new clothes and shower helped slightly.

Something sizzles in the kitchen when you open the bathroom door.

“Hey, honey,” says Jason without turning around, standing in front of the stove. He points at the table. “Meds and water are right there. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” is your response. You down the pills and almost set the glass back on the table, but at his insistent look, finish it off. Hydration helps with cramps as well.

“You’re two days early.”

“Well, I haven’t been patrolling. Exercise changes can throw my cycle out of whack.” You sniff. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken stir fry.” You peek into the pan and see broccoli, bell peppers, and a couple other vegetables frying with the chicken. The covered pan behind it, you know without looking, contains rice. “I also have ginger tea brewing.”

All of it, every part of the meal, is meant to help reduce your symptoms and pain.

You can’t help it. How is he always so thoughtful? You throw your arms around Jason’s middle and squeeze. So he can keep stirring the food, he shifts until you’re tucked beneath one arm. His hair is in complete disarray from your fingers like he just walked through a tornado. When he notices your gaze, red colors his cheeks and he flattens his hair down self-consciously.

You press a kiss to his shoulder, the highest place you can reach without stretching.

“Go sit down,” he pretends to scold.

In response, you lean into him, heavier and heavier, until he’s practically carrying you. Jason doesn’t even blink at the added weight.

“I plugged in your heating pad,” he says. “It’s right by the couch.” Another thing right next to the couch is a coffee table he stole from the manor when he was pissed at Bruce. On top of it is a bar of dark chocolate and a freshly-washed bowl of your favorite berries.

You kiss his shoulder again. Jason kisses the top of your head, then nudges you away with his chin. “Go. Sit down. Rest your ankle and your uterus.”

“That is not how it works,” you say, mirth in your voice.

“It’s how I think it works,” he mumbles.

When the food is done, he brings two bowls over. You lift your legs and he slips underneath them. He uses your shins on his thighs as a makeshift table, balancing the bowl between them, and absentmindedly rubs your weaker ankle with the hand not holding his spoon.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence as The Great British Bake-Off plays. You finish first, and as soon as he sets his bowl down, you sit up slightly and make grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

Jason pretends to roll his eyes, but judging by the line of kisses he trails from your wrist to the inside of your elbow as he lies down, he doesn’t mind your bossiness too much.

You shiver at every brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your forearm. It’s almost enough to distract you from the cramping that’s beginning in your abdomen again—a cramping that eases slightly when he’s atop you again, resting the gentle pressure of his weight on your stomach. Warm, fed, and with his weight on you, is it any wonder you fall asleep?

You’re only woken by Jason’s gentle hand shaking you, telling you that it’s been eight hours since you last applied your feminine hygiene product and you need to change it. You’re tired and sore and cranky, but as soon as you blink your eyes open he has pain medication and water for you to take.

You do so in the bathroom in a daze and tumble into your shared bed, tugging Jason in with you. He goes down easily, using his huge, warm form to surround you with his easy, comforting scent. You left the heating pad on the couch, but the thick arm Jason winds around your stomach does the job well enough, and you drift back to sleep quickly, never fully awake in the first place.

The next morning, you wake to an aching back and stained sheets.

You stare up at the ceiling and swear, which unfortunately wakes Jason, who lifts his head and stares at you, one eye still crusted with sleep. His curls are in wild disarray, one side flattened from the pillow and the other on end as if he’s been spending his spare time sticking forks in electrical sockets.

If the cramps have gotten to your spine already, then the next few days are going to be hell. And this was a nice pair of sheets! The blood had better wash out.

Jason grunts and lowers his head. “Everything we own is bloodstained, honey. Though usually it’s mine.”

You leave him in bed. Your hair feels way too greasy, and your skin feels tacky, and even after a half-hour shower, you still don’t feel great.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Jason is there with chocolate-chip pancakes he made himself, accompanied by a fresh bowl of fruit and more meds.

Emotion rises in your throat. You want to tell him so much, like that you love him even though you haven’t said it, or that you can’t fathom going through your period on your own anymore, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect. You know that? You really don’t have to do all this—or stay home from patrol for me.”

Jason tousles his messy curls and shrugs. “Well, I’m gonna anyway. You need me, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me!

[cumironi]

FILM 03. MISCHIEF DEAL

☆ sum. turn out sukuna have this insomnia and tired of just laying around on his bed until morning. but lucky for him, he’s got you around to keep him entertained with your stories and adventures. together, you made a deal.

warning. non-sorcerer au, fluff, crack, grumpy sukuna.

☆ , DECEMBER, WHEN WINTER FINALLY COMES

everything was painfully bright, the sun piercing through the blinds in sharp slats, the harsh light making you squint and blink rapidly. it felt like the room was suffocating you, the whiteness of the walls and furniture blurring everything around you. the white, sterile environment was so clean, so pristine, yet it felt utterly suffocating. you tried to focus on the quiet hum of the air conditioner to distract from the overwhelming brightness, but it did little to help, just a little.

your fingers fidgeted involuntarily, tracing the edges of your nails in a repetitive motion, as if you were trying to ground yourself in the stillness. the skin on your fingers was soft, but you didn’t realize you were digging into your nails, creating a tiny wound. the faint sting went unnoticed at first, but soon the blood started to bead up, and it was the only thing that seemed to break through the haze of anxiety in your mind.

across from you sat a middle-aged woman, her stern expression framed by the dark rims of her glasses. her gaze was sharp, almost clinical, as she observed you from behind the papers in her hands. the rustling of the papers, the way she adjusted them just so, was the only sound in the room. her eyes bore into you, waiting for something—waiting for you to speak, waiting for you to confirm. there was something about the way she looked at you that felt unbearable, like she was studying you under a microscope, dissecting everything in your soul.

“are you sure?” her voice was calm, controlled, yet there was an underlying weight to her words. she didn’t look at you with sympathy, nor with judgment—just with that same clinical curiosity, as if she were asking you about a decision far removed from your feelings.

fuck no’ in your mind, screaming.

you sucked in a sharp breath, the air in the room feeling thicker now, as though it was harder to breathe. your chest tightened, your heart racing faster than you’d like. everything around you seemed to close in, the bright lights, the white walls, the piercing gaze of the woman before you. everything was too much, and yet you had no choice but to answer.

you nodded, slowly at first, hesitant. your voice, when it came, was barely a whisper, drowned by the overwhelming silence of the room.

“yes.”

fuck!

the word felt heavy, but the act of saying it made the room feel both smaller and larger at the same time, a paradox that made your chest tighten even more. it was out there now. the decision, your choice, had been made. but as the seconds ticked by, you weren’t sure if it was the right one.

you push open the wooden door, the soft jingle of the bell, like a christmas song— above it filling the air as you step inside, a smile spreading across your face. the familiar scent of coffee and fresh pastries instantly greets you, and your eyes scan the room, landing on the table where your friends usually sit. nobara’s hand is already up in the air, waving in your direction, her usual energetic greeting followed by yuuji and megumi turning their heads towards you. you wave back, feeling a wave of warmth at the sight of their smiles.

you begin walking towards them, but your feet slow when you approach the counter first. something about the atmosphere shifts in an instant, and your smile falters, confusion quickly settling in your chest. behind the counter, standing with that lazy yet knowing expression on his face, is sukuna. the sight of him catches you off guard, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly when he notices your change in expression. you swallow hard, but he doesn’t say anything, merely raising an eyebrow in your direction.

for a moment, the usual chatter in the café fades into the background as you lock eyes with him, trying to steady your breath. there’s something unnerving about him, something you can’t quite place, but before you can process it further, a voice full of cheer cuts through the tension.

“hey there!” gojo satoru, your senior, greets you with a wide, dazzling smile. his blue eyes gleam with the usual mischief, and his hands wave in the air like he’s seen a long-lost friend, despite you seeing him just yesterday. his easygoing demeanor helps to lighten the mood, and you can'l’t help but return the smile, relieved that he’s here to counterbalance sukuna’s presence.

with a soft sigh, you turn your attention back to sukuna. he’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his gaze still as disinterested as ever, but there’s something unreadable in his smirk. he shifts slightly, his tone laced with a lazy arrogance as he speaks. “the usual?” he asks— you are a regular here— as if you two haven’t just exchanged a glance that feels like it says so much more than words could.

what an arrogance prick’ if you have the courage to say.

instead, you nod, your smile returning but more carefully this time, like you're walking on thin ice. “yeah,” you respond, voice steady but your mind racing. there’s no escaping this now. sukuna, who had always been a mystery to you, was behind the counter of this café—megumi’s father’s café. and for some reason, that feels heavier now than it had before, than last time you saw him.

gojo glances between the two of you, sensing something off, but his smile doesn’t falter. behind him, geto suguru, your other senior, moves about with his usual calm composure, taking orders and sorting out pastries. the three of them—sukuna, gojo, and geto—work together at a café owned by megumi’s father. it felt like the last place you’d expect to see sukuna; you don’t know why, even though you know he’s been working here, yet here he was, silently observing you with his usual unsettling presence. creep.

you hand him your card to pay, watching sukuna’s usual grumpy face as he takes it without a word. he never seems pleased’ you thought. you notice the slight furrow of his brow, the way his lips curl into that all-too-familiar, irritated scowl. it makes you frown, an instinctive reaction to the tension still hanging in the air between you two. without thinking, you ask, “what?”

sukuna doesn’t immediately answer. his eyes stay on your card for a moment too long, like he’s debating whether to look at you at all. you wait, but the silence only deepens. then, after a beat, he shifts his gaze to you, his usual unreadable expression not quite masking the underlying irritation. it’s the same look he gave you the last time you saw him—just days ago, after that night at the beach.

you’d dragged him out there, full of excitement, hoping to share the peaceful solitude of a quiet sunrise. instead, you’d ended up with nothing but his sharp, biting words. you still remember the sting of them, the way he’d scorned you for being upset about something as trivial as not seeing the sunrise. “you’re too emotional,” he’d said, as if your feelings didn’t matter. he called you stupid, childish, overreacting, and your heart had sunk with each word he threw at you.

you never understood why he’d been so cold, so harsh. it had hurt more than you cared to admit, but now, standing here before him, the weight of that moment feels fresh again. his grumpy demeanor, that same indifferent look, feels like a reminder of everything that had gone wrong that night.

you somehow want to skin him alive.

sukuna glances at your expression, noting the slight frown and the tension in your brow. your sudden question has him pausing for a moment, his eyes flickering back to your card. when he looks up at you, he gives you a cursory glance, and you see his lips twitch as he considers responding.

“it’s nothing,” he finally sighs, handing back your card. his usual grumpy, irritated scowl is in place, as if he hadn’t just been studying your face just a moment ago. he waves his hand nonchalantly, indicating that you can move along. asshole.

yet, his grumpy demeanor somehow feels even grumpier than usual, and you can’t help but wonder if you did something to make him react this way. your frown deepens, and you shift your gaze back towards the table where yuuji, nobara, and megumi await you. they’ve been watching this exchange, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern before looking away.

without another word, sukuna turns to prepare your order, and you take that as your cue to leave. you force a small, half-hearted smile and nod a goodbye, moving off toward your friends. as you approach megumi, yuuji and nobara, they don’t hide their curiosity, especially nobara. their gazes flit between you and sukuna, but it’s nobara who speaks up first.

“what was that about?” she leans forward, her eyes flickering towards the counter where sukuna is still preparing your order. you shrug, feigning indifference. “nothing. sukuna being sukuna, as usual.” you try to sound casual, dismissive. didn’t bother, or didn’t dare to look at her.

sukuna leans against the counter, arms folded with a tense posture, his crimson eyes never leaving you as you talk and laugh with his younger brother, megumi, and your friends. the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes light up when you smile, and creating a cut little wrinkle on the edge—it’s like a pull he can’t resist. but the more he watches, the deeper the frown on his face grows, his gaze narrowing with an intensity that betrays his internal turmoil.

the nagging feeling of guilt that’s been eating at him for days refuses to subside. he had walked out that morning, avoiding you after that night at the beach. he had lashed out, throwing harsh words your way, masking his own frustration with your emotions—his sharp words cutting through the air without care for what they might do to you, at least he tried. now, every time he thinks back to that moment, he feels the weight of it, gnawing at him from the inside.

the more he watches you now, the more he resents himself. his usual indifference towards most things feels like a thin shield he’s trying to hide behind. but it’s failing. the guilt is relentless, eating at him with every passing minute.

he exhales sharply, trying to shake off the discomfort. the last thing he wants is to feel like this—soft, unsure. this isn’t him. sukuna has always prided himself on his control, his power over his emotions. but now? It’s all slipping through his fingers like a fucking sand.

he shifts his attention back to his work, but it feels forced, as if the task before him is nothing more than a distraction. and you what he feels forced? your laugh with megumi. who’s laughing like that? snake’ he thought. the espresso machine hums in the background, the sound of cups clinking against the counter, the quiet chatter of customers—nothing can drown out the relentless feeling of guilt jealous that’s choking him. he tries to ignore it, focusing on the routine of his shift, but his gaze keeps flickering back to you, like a magnet pulling him in despite himself.

he grits his teeth, muttering under his breath, trying to maintain his usual air of indifference. “stupid,” he mutters to himself, not entirely sure if he’s referring to you, or to the guilt that keeps digging at him. he wants to shake it off, move on, but it’s there, lingering in the back of his mind like ugly broken record.

his crimson eyes keep flickering to you as you joke around with megumi, your laughter ringing through the café. the sound is like a siren’s song, pulling him in even in his grumpy state— no, not because it sounds beautiful but the opposite; sukuna tried to force himself to believe. he watches the way your eyes light up when you smile, and sukuna’s frown deepens, dragging the skin on his forehead to wrinkles more. he can’t help but feel a pang of guilt creeping back, knowing he was the one responsible for the hurt he saw in those same eyes just days before.

sukuna’s gaze narrows, his internal turmoil clearly evident on his face, the one that he try to mask it with his usual indifferent expression, but it’s not working.

it was nine pm, the end of a long shift, and sukuna was the only one left in the café. the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft creaks of the wooden floor were the only sounds accompanying him in the dimly lit space. the rest of the staff, including gojo and geto, had clocked out hours ago, leaving him with the final responsibility of closing up. it wasn’t his favorite task—he hated the quiet, hated being stuck with his own thoughts—but someone had to do it. megumi’s father, the owner, trusted him with the last shift more than anyone else, which meant he often found himself alone in the empty café, begrudgingly sweeping the floors and locking up for the night.

“stupid toji,” he grumbled.

his crimson eyes lazily scanned the room as he swiped the broom across the floor in slow, deliberate motions, not out of diligence but boredom, lazy. his mind wasn’t on the task at hand. instead, it kept drifting back to you. you’d been there earlier with your friends—nobara, megumi, and yuuji. you’d all sat at your usual table, talking and laughing like you didn’t have a care in the world. sukuna had pretended not to notice you, but his eyes had wandered to you more times than he cared to admit.

you’d left hours ago, walking out with your group and disappearing into the night. and yet, sukuna found himself restless. his chest tightened with a frustration he didn’t fully understand as he absentmindedly wondered where you’d gone. were you safe? were you still with your friends? or had you wandered off on your own like you sometimes did? the questions irritated him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. at one point, he almost pulled out his phone to call yuuji, intent on demanding your whereabouts, silly him. but the absurdity of the thought stopped him. why should he care? it wasn’t his problem where you were or who you were with.

“ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the broom tighter. the frown etched on his face deepened as he tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on finishing his shift so he could lock up and leave.

just as he was starting to lose himself in his grumbling, the soft chime of the bell above the door echoed through the empty café. sukuna stilled, his crimson eyes flicking toward the sound. his irritation flared instantly, and the urge to scream at whoever stupid enough to doesn’t know how to read the closed sign on the door. instead, “we’re closed,” he called out, his voice low and rough, not bothering to turn around right away.

but when he finally did, the words caught in his throat. standing by the door, framed by the dim glow of the streetlights outside, was you.

your figure seemed smaller than usual, your shoulders slightly hunched as if you were unsure about being there. you looked at him with a mix of embarrassment and hesitation, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly. the sight of you standing there, almost looking vulnerable and out of place, sent an unfamiliar jolt through sukuna’s chest. his eyes narrowed, his expression hardening out of instinct, even as his heart gave a traitorous skip.

“what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended, but it was the only way he knew how to mask the confusion and unease bubbling inside him. you shifted on your feet, avoiding his gaze for a moment before meeting his eyes. “i… um…” you started, your voice soft, almost timid. it wasn’t like you to be this unsure, this hesitant. sukuna noticed it immediately, and it only made his frown deepen.

he leaned the broom against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied you. the café was empty, the world outside quiet save for the faint hum of passing cars, and yet the tension in the room was palpable. the longer you stood there, the harder it became for sukuna to ignore the unspoken weight hanging in the air.

“you do know we’re closed, right?” he said, breaking the silence, though his tone lacked its usual bite. there was something softer beneath it, something almost uncertain. you nodded, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “i know,” you said quietly, taking a hesitant step forward. “i lost my phone— wondering if i left it here.”

sukuna’s eyes scanned your face, noting the hint of uncertainty in your expression. he could see the way you were fidgeting, hands playing nervously with the straps of your bag. he didn’t miss the way you stepped closer, a small, almost hesitant gesture. he raised an eyebrow, his usual indifferent demeanor shifting slightly, giving way to a flicker of concern.

“you lost your phone?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity, barely concealed by his usual gruff demeanor. “how the hell do you lose your phone and not notice? what, did you just forget it here?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes at sukuna’s question. “i don’t know,” you replied, your tone carrying a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “i don’t really pay much attention to where i leave things.” you crossed your arms defensively, trying to ignore the way his crimson eyes seemed to bore into you, sharp and unyielding. “it’s not like i lost it on purpose,” you added, feeling the need to justify yourself despite the clear teasing in his tone.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly at your reaction. he’d expected you to fire back at him with your usual retort, but instead, you sounded almost defensive. the change in your demeanor was subtle but noticeable— he could hear the frustration in your voice. he leaned against the counter, arms still crossed, gaze still locked on you. “you really are careless, aren’t you?” sukuna commented with a scoff, but there was no malice in his tone. it was almost... almost playful, almost mocking.

sukuna’s expression softened ever so slightly, his usual gruff demeanor giving way to something almost resembling playfulness. it was a subtle shift, but unmistakable. he pushed himself off from the counter, slowly walking towards you, his movements measured and deliberate.

“you’re lucky i’m here then,” he remarked, his voice low, almost a hum. “someone might’ve tried to steal it.” sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly, a small hint of amusement playing at the edges of his lips. “wouldn’t want someone else getting their hands on your precious phone, right?”

and when you think sukuna’s response caught you off guard, it is an understatement. he usually had a sharper, more biting remark ready, or insult, but this time, it was different. his tone, though still gruff, was softer, lacking the usual edge. you realized it was almost... joking?

you let out a deep sigh, the tension in your shoulders loosening slightly. “i guess i am,” you admitted, flashing him a small, slightly sheepish smile. “i have a bad habit of leaving things behind. my parents used to say i had a memory like a sieve. i swear it’s not on purpose though.”

sukuna’s expression softened a bit more as he watched you, your sheepish smile tugging at his usually hardened features. he was used to your spunk, your quick-witted comebacks, but this softer side of you caught him off guard. he crossed his arms again, leaning against the counter for the second time. “you’re not making a very convincing argument,” he said, a small hint of tease in his voice. “forgetful and careless. i see a pattern here. it's a mystery you haven’t misplaced your head yet.” cute.

you groaned, narrowing your eyes at him as you placed your hands on your hips. “shut up, sukuna,” you snapped. . . or mumbled, though your tone lacked any real bite. “are you going to help me find my phone or just stand there and play a comedian all night?”

his eyebrows arose, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face at your retort. he doesn’t like that tone, he should be, he always does, but instead of getting annoyed or irritated, he found himself feeling an odd mix of admiration and... a strange warmth in his chest. he tried to suppress it. he hated this strange, overly emotional response he seemed to have around you lately. a small smirk playing at his lips. “you know you love my comedic talent.”

you shot him an unimpressed look, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “love your comedic talent?” you scoffed, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “please. you’re not a comedian, sukuna—you’re an asshole.” followed by the roll of your eyes, you look away from the man— either because you hate his gut, or because how you can hear your heart in your ears.

sukuna’s smirk widened, amused by your sarcastic remark. he loved how you still had some heat in your words, even when you were clearly flustered— how you looked away, how your eyes averting from him. was that a blush creeping up your neck? sukuna tried to ignore how the sight of it made his chest ache. “i thought you loved assholes,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

you narrowed your eyes at him, your glare sharp enough to cut glass. “you’re really testing my patience,” you muttered, your tone low and laced with annoyance. his teasing smirk only widened, clearly pleased with himself, and you huffed in response, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to argue.

without another word, you spun on your heel and made your way to the table where you’d been sitting earlier, your footsteps deliberate and firm. sukuna’s chuckle followed you, the deep sound echoing through the empty café.

as you scanned the table, your fingers brushing against the surface in search of your phone, you muttered under your breath, “unbelievable. the ego on that guy.” though your words were meant for yourself, you had a sneaking suspicion he could hear them—and that only made your cheeks burn hotter.

from behind you, sukuna called out casually, “you won’t find it there, you know. already checked when i cleaned up.” you froze for a moment, your shoulders stiffening before you turned slightly, shooting him a quick, irritated glare. “then where is it, genius?”

he shrugged, tapping his heel on the hardwood floor while he watched you with that infuriatingly smug expression. “i don’t know. you’re the one who lost it, remember?” you let out a frustrated groan, resisting the urge to chuck a napkin holder at him. “you’re absolutely no help,” you grumbled, bending down to check under the table, determined to find your phone without giving him the satisfaction of seeing you ask for his assistance, again.

sukuna couldn’t help but grin at your stubbornness, finding your determination to find your phone without asking for his help both amusing and frustrating. he watched as you searched the area around the table, your brows furrowed in concentration, your frustration obvious. sukuna had a vague idea of where the phone might be, but he held his tongue, wanting to see how far you’d go before giving in and admitting you needed his help.

sukuna’s eyes flicked to the curve of your neck, exposed for a moment and his eyes lingering on your exposed neck for a moment too long. the sight of your skin, the way the light hit it just right, sent a jolt of warmth through his chest. he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, as he quickly pulled his gaze away and stand straight.

what the hell was wrong with him? sukuna mentally cursed himself for his strange reaction. he had always been better at controlling his emotions, but around you, it seemed like all his defences were crumbling. he silently watched as you continued your search, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

you let out a heavy sigh, straightening up and brushing your hands on your jeans as if shaking off the frustration. “yeah, i can’t find it,” you admitted, your voice tinged with defeat. your eyes flicked over to sukuna, who was still lounging against the counter, watching you with an infuriatingly amused expression.

you hesitated for a moment, chewing on your lip before finally asking, “do you think… maybe gojo-senpai or geto-senpai found it? or, i don’t know, maybe it’s in the lost and found?” sukuna raised an eyebrow, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he considered your question. “lost and found?” he repeated, a scoff escaping his lips. “this isn’t some fancy hotel. the ‘lost and found’ is basically just me throwing forgotten stuff in a drawer somewhere.”

you blinked at him, unamused. “so, you’re saying there is a drawer?”

“maybe,” he said with a shrug, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “but i’m not digging through it for you.”

you groaned, dragging a hand down your face in exasperation. “of course you’re not,” you muttered under your breath before looking at him again, more serious this time. “can you at least tell me where it is? or should i just call gojo-senpai and geto-senpai and see if they picked it up?”

sukuna sighed, finally pushing off the counter and walking toward the back room. “fine, i’ll check the drawer. but if it’s not there, you’re calling them yourself,” he grumbled. “and if they have it, good luck getting it back from gojo. you know how he is.”

you frowned, suddenly imagining gojo taking selfies with your phone and flooding your gallery. “great. just great,” you mumbled as you waited, crossing your arms and tapping your foot anxiously while sukuna disappeared into the back, leaving you alone in the café.

you waited impatiently, your mind racing with frustration and worry. sukuna was being so difficult, but at the same time, his willingness to check the drawer for your phone felt strangely... nice. maybe, just maybe, it showed a hidden layer of thoughtfulness beneath his gruff exterior. but you'd be damned if you ever mentioned it to him. minutes passed, and sukuna finally emerged from the back room empty-handed. his expression was unreadable, his crimson eyes fixed on you.

“it’s not there,” sukuna announced, his voice low. a ball of disappointment and frustration washed over you, but you quickly masked it with a resigned sigh. sukuna noticed the subtle change in reaction, the slight droop of your shoulders, the way you bit your bottom lip, probably to hold back an irritated comment. his gaze softened slightly, a hint of sympathy hidden behind those crimson eyes. he was used to your fiery retorts, and this more vulnerable side of you was... different. sukuna swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to form words.

you let out a heavy sigh, the weight of disappointment pressing against your chest. “alright, thanks,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost defeated. you avoided sukuna’s gaze, instead focusing on the floor for a moment as you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your coat. the café felt colder now, the dim lighting casting long shadows that only amplified the emptiness you suddenly felt.

finally, you glanced up at sukuna, your eyes meeting his for just a second before flickering away again. “guess i better go now,” you added, your tone resigned, as though you were trying to convince yourself that leaving was the right move.

sukuna watched you, studying your demeanor carefully. you seemed so small, so disheartened and it made his heart twist. he wanted to say something, anything, that might ease your disappointment. but his mind drew a blank. sukuna was never good at comforting people, and the right words escaped him. he was all too aware of the silence between you, the weight of it pressing down.

finally, he cleared his throat, his voice rough as he spoke. “i can drive you home,” he offered. “it’s late.”

you froze for a moment, his words catching you off guard. turning slowly, you met sukuna’s gaze, your eyes widening in relief. the tension in your shoulders melted away, and you let out a big, exaggerated sigh of relief. “thank god,” you said, your voice filled with genuine gratitude as a small smile crept onto your lips. “i really didn’t want to walk home alone at night. i was just trying to be polite and not ask.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow at your dramatic reaction, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly, though the corners of his lips twitched as if fighting the urge to smile. for a moment, he looked torn, caught between teasing you and holding onto his usual stoic facade. he quickly sucked in his bottom lip, biting it slightly to suppress the grin threatening to break free, before shifting his gaze away from you.

“sit here first,” he said gruffly, motioning toward the counter with a small jerk of his head. his voice was steady, but there was a softness in it that wasn’t there before. “i’ve got a few things to wrap up before i close the café.”

he avoided meeting your eyes again as he gestured, subtly clearing his throat. you could see the faintest trace of red at the tips of his ears before he turned on his heel, walking toward the back of the café. it was almost as if he needed a moment to collect himself, though he’d never admit it.

sukuna disappeared into the back, leaving you alone again. sighing, you hopped onto the barstool, your hands resting on the polished top of the counter. as you waited for sukuna to return, your thoughts drifted back to your phone. the feeling of relief from earlier was gone now, replaced by a faint dread creeping in. the possibility that gojo or geto had found your phone seemed more and more likely. and the thought of the chaos they might be causing with all the photos and messages on there was enough to make you wince.

sukuna re-emerged from the back after some time, his usual indifferent expression back in place. he began flipping over chairs and clearing tables, his movements sharp and efficient. sukuna’s focus seemed to be on anything but you, yet his eyes kept darting in your direction, almost as if he was trying to catch your reaction without you noticing.

finally, he moved behind the counter, his movements almost methodical as he wiped down the workspace. sukuna’s jaw tightened as he worked, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly beneath his black t-shirt. sukuna’s eyes flickered over to you every now and then, studying the subtle furrow of your brow, the way your fingers tapped impatiently on the countertop. he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside your head, if your thoughts mirrored his own. sukuna was used to being in control, to being the one with the upper hand, yet around you, he felt strangely out of balance.

the café grew quieter, save for the soft background hum. sukuna’s steady breaths were the only other sound in the silence.

sukuna’s gaze lingered on your form, his eyes tracing the curve of your back as you leaned against the counter. the light from the overhead lamp illuminated your face, casting a soft glow on your skin. sukuna swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. he couldnt explain why he felt drawn to you so intensely—there was just something about you that he couldn’t resist.

finally, sukuna couldn’t handle the silence any longer. he cleared his throat, the sound breaking the quiet atmosphere. sukuna’s voice was deep, slightly husky as he spoke. “are you ready to go?”

you turned around at the sound of sukuna’s voice, your eyes meeting his with a faint flicker of surprise. his tone was quieter than usual, lacking the usual sharp edge, and it caught you off guard. for a moment, you studied his face, noticing the way his crimson eyes softened ever so slightly under your gaze.

you nodded, the corners of your lips tugging into a soft smile. “yeah, i’m ready,” you said gently, your voice carrying a warmth that made the tension in the room dissipate.

as you slid off the counter, your movements unhurried, you caught the briefest flicker of something in sukuna’s expression—was it relief? or maybe something deeper? whatever it was, it vanished quickly as he straightened his posture, brushing off his apron and avoiding your gaze for a moment.

sukuna’s expression remained stoic as his eyes followed your movements, watching as you approached him. he cleared his throat softly, his adam’s apple bobbing with the action. there was a moment of hesitation in his eyes, a brief battle between his usual indifference and a newfound curiosity.

finally, sukuna offered his arm to you, his voice low— for the record, he have no idea why he did what he did. “come on,” he said. “let’s get you home.” his tone was gentle, almost tender, and it caught even him by surprise. sukuna’s fingers brushed yours as he waited for you to link your arm through his.

what the fuck am i doing?’ he wonders.

you froze for a moment, staring at sukuna’s outstretched arm in surprise. it wasn’t like him to be this... considerate. your eyes flickered to his face, searching for any hint of mockery, but all you found was a rare softness in his crimson gaze.

slowly, a shy smile spread across your lips, the kind that you couldn’t quite suppress even if you tried. without a word, you slipped your arm through his, feeling the brief, warm brush of his fingers against your skin. your heart skipped a beat at the contact, but you kept your expression calm, not wanting to ruin the moment or give him a reason to retreat into his usual gruff demeanor and insult you.

sukuna glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his lips twitching as if he was about to say something but deciding against it. instead, he simply began walking, his arm firm yet careful around yours. the silence between you felt comfortable, almost intimate, and you couldn’t help but savor it, hoping this side of sukuna might linger a little longer.

sukuna guided you towards the back door, his strides long and steady as he led you to his car. the neon lights from the city outside cast a dim glow over the pavement, creating a quiet, almost surreal atmosphere. your fingers instinctively held onto his arm a bit tighter, feeling the subtle shift of his muscles beneath his sleeve.

as you approached the car, sukuna silently unlocked the passenger door, holding it open for you. he watched as you climbed in, waiting until you were comfortably seated before gently closing the door beside you. then, sukuna made his way to the driver’s side, sliding into the car and starting the engine. the interior was quiet, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the engine and the distant noises of the city outside. sukuna’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but every so often, he would glance in your direction, his gaze lingering on your face for a brief moment before returning to the traffic.

the car moved forward, the yellow streetlights casting shadows across your faces every now and then. sukuna’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white.

you sat quietly for a moment, stealing a glance at sukuna as his sharp features softened slightly under the flickering glow of the streetlights. his usual gruff demeanor seemed calmer tonight, and you weren’t ready for the time with him to end just yet.

you shifted in your seat, hesitating for a second before speaking. “hey,” you started, your voice light, almost teasing. “there’s this ice cream place near the park. it’s really good, and it’s not too far from here.” you glanced at him, testing the waters. “what do you think? want to grab some before you drop me off?”

sukuna's eyes flickered to yours, a subtle spark of surprise flickering within their crimson depths. for a moment, you could see the internal struggle between his usual dismissive nature and a newfound curiosity. sukuna swallowed, his jaw tensing briefly before he spoke.

“fine,” he replied softly, his tone neither enthusiastic nor dismissive. “but don’t expect me to be all friendly and chatty like you.” sukuna’s eyes lingered on yours for a brief, almost defiant second, as if daring you to comment on his soft agreement.

oh, there, the asshole sukuna.

you rolled your eyes, a small huff escaping your lips as you leaned back in your seat. “i don’t plan to,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but you made sure he heard the hint of sarcasm.

your gaze flicked to sukuna, catching the faintest twitch of his lips, like he was holding back a smirk. you bit back your own smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his agreement had actually pleased you. instead, you looked out the window, pretending to focus on the passing streetlights. “just drive, sukuna,” you added, your tone teasing but light, not wanting to ruin the fragile truce between you.

sukuna’s eyebrow twitched slightly at your sarcastic remark, but he didn’t take the bait. his lips curved into a slight grin, as if he was enjoying the banter more than he would admit. without a word, he shifted gears and turned the car around, heading towards the ice cream shop you mentioned.

as he drove, sukuna’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his calloused hands gripping the leather tightly. the tension in his shoulders was subtle but noticeable, a testament to the internal battle he was fighting. sukuna was clearly out of his comfort zone.

the park was quiet, the faint rustle of leaves blending with the distant hum of the city. you and sukuna sat side by side on the soft grass, the evening breeze cool against your skin. the streetlights cast a warm glow over the park, but most of the area was bathed in shadows, giving it an almost secluded feel.

you lay on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows, while sukuna leaned back slightly, one arm supporting him while the other held his ice cream cone. he had chosen chocolate fudge, the most basic flavor, which seemed fitting for him in a way—straightforward, no-nonsense, and yet satisfying. you, on the other hand, had gone for mint chocolate chip, the vibrant green standing out against the night’s muted tones.

your gaze drifted to sukuna, watching the way he ate his ice cream with slow, deliberate licks. his crimson eyes were focused on nothing in particular, lost in thought as the cone slowly disappeared. you glanced at your own ice cream, then back at his, and a mischievous idea crept into your mind.

“hey,” you said softly, drawing his attention.

his eyes flicked to you, his expression unreadable but the same gruffness evidence, yet lazy. “what?”

you hesitated for a moment, then gestured toward his cone. “can i get a bite of your ice cream?”

sukuna’s gaze met yours, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in surprise. “why the hell would you want a bite of mine? you’ve got your own,” he grumbled, his voice holding a hint of annoyance. despite his gruff demeanor, he offered his cone to you, his hand holding it out patiently, earning your smile widened as you saw sukuna’s grumpy expression soften just the tiniest bit, though he tried to mask it with his usual scowl. reaching out, your hand gently wrapped around his, steadying the cone he held out for you. sukuna’s eyes never left your face, studying your expression with a mix of curiosity and guardedness. sukuna’s expression remained stoic, but there was a glint of intrigue in his eyes as he watched you.

“thanks, sukuna,” you said softly, your tone light but carrying a hint of warmth. your fingers brushed against his, and you noticed how his hand tensed slightly under your touch, a reaction he quickly tried to hide. leaning in, you took a small, deliberate bite of his ice cream, savoring the rich chocolate flavor while sukuna’s eyes followed your every move, studying you. “mmm,” you hummed appreciatively, pulling back to meet his gaze.

his breath hitched slightly as you hummed in approval, and he swallowed hard. sukuna’s fingers tightened slightly around the cone, his grip almost involuntarily growing firmer under your touch, more pressure he might crush the cone. a flicker of something—interest? delight?—flew across his face before he quickly masked it again, his expression returning to its usual gruff state.

he watched you intently for a moment, almost as if he was waiting for your reaction. sukuna’s words were gruff, but his tone softened slightly.

“so, is it good or what?” you nod.

sukuna’s gaze lingered on your face, his eyes fixed on your features. his chest slowly rose and fell as he took deep, measured breaths, his body language betraying his attempt to maintain a collected demeanor. sukuna’s free hand clenched and unclenched, the motion almost imperceptible, but a sign of the internal struggle he was experiencing. he swallowed hard, his throat visibly moving with the motion. sukuna’s jaw tensed as he fought to regain his composure, his shoulders growing taut. sukuna’s voice was lower, his words coming out in a husky whisper you barely hear. “what did you just do?“

your eyes flickered to sukuna’s face, noticing the shift in his expression—the tension in his jaw, the way his crimson eyes seemed to bore into you, and the barely concealed edge in his voice. you felt a flutter of nerves, but you quickly masked it with a sheepish smile, your lips curving upward as you tried to ease the sudden intensity between you.

you glanced at the mint chocolate chip cone in your hand and then back at his chocolate fudge. “uh... do you want to trade?” you asked, your tone soft, almost hesitant.

you held out your cone slightly, the gesture tentative but sincere, hoping to diffuse whatever strange reaction you’d sparked in him. your free hand tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you added, “i mean, you look like you’re not enjoying yours as much as i did. i don’t like mine.”

sukuna’s grip on the ice cream cone tightened faintly as you offered to trade, his eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for some hidden intent behind your gesture. he seemed almost unwilling to concede, his ego refusing to back down even in this small, seemingly insignificant moment.

“i don’t care what you like or don’t like,” he grumbled, his tone gruff, but there was a subtle note of defensiveness in his voice. sukuna’s shoulders remained rigid, his body tense as he stubbornly clung onto his chocolate fudge cone.

you sighed softly, your shoulders sagging in mock defeat as you pulled your hand back, cradling your mint chocolate chip cone closer. your lips pressed into a pout, the expression exaggerated just enough to make your displeasure known without starting another argument.

“fine,” you muttered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye before taking a small, reluctant lick of your ice cream. the overly minty taste only deepened your pout, but you didn’t complain further. instead, you muttered to yourself, just loud enough for him to hear, “guess i’ll just enjoy this toothpaste-flavored cone.”

you shifted on the grass, laying back down on your stomach and resting your chin in your hand. you half-heartedly nibbled at your ice cream, side-eyeing sukuna as he continued eating his chocolate fudge like it was the best thing in the world. part of you wanted to argue more, but another part knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

instead, you let out a small, resigned huff and accepted your fate, determined to salvage what you could of your unwanted dessert.

sukuna couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your dramatic display. he scoffed quietly, his hand clenching around his cone still as he watched you with an almost amused expression. sukuna’s gaze wandered over your form, lingering on your frustrated pout and the way your hand stubbornly clung to the cone as if it was a stubborn adversary.

“you’re acting like a child, you know that, right?” sukuna finally spoke up. his voice was rough, his words carrying a hint of condescension, yet you didn’t say anything, just pouting.

sukuna let out a deep, dramatic sigh, the sound heavy with reluctant frustration as his eyes lingered on your sulking form. you sat there clutching the ice cream you didn’t like, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout, refusing to meet his gaze. he studied you for a moment longer, his crimson eyes narrowing as if debating whether or not he should intervene.

“fine,” he finally grumbled, his voice low and rough as he thrust his chocolate fudge cone toward you, the movement sharp and impatient. “here. take it. trade with me already before you start crying or something.”

you blinked, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. the mixture of surprise and disbelief in your eyes almost made him smirk, but he held his stoic expression. you reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing against his as you took the cone. but before you could fully grab it, sukuna pulled it back slightly, giving you a pointed glare. “but seriously, why the hell did you even pick that flavor if you don’t like it?”

your face heated slightly at his question, but you simply shrugged, mumbling something incoherent about wanting to try something new. his eyes narrowed further, and he let out another annoyed sigh before finally letting you take the cone.

as you traded, you handed him your mint chocolate chip cone, watching as he eyed it with visible disdain. you couldn’t help but stifle a small giggle at the sight of the feared sukuna holding an ice cream cone like it was some kind of weapon. you took a triumphant bite of his chocolate fudge, the rich flavor melting on your tongue, and hummed in satisfaction. “thank you, sukuna,” you said softly, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

sukuna’s expression remained stoic as he examined his newly acquired ice cream cone, his lip curling slightly in clear distaste. he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “disgusting” as he studied the vibrant green scoop of mint chocolate chip.

however, as you thanked him, your voice light and teasing, a flicker of something unexpected crossed his face. sukuna’s eyes flicked to yours, narrowing just slightly, before he huffed in response. “whatever,” he muttered, his tone gruff and dismissive, but there was a subtle hint of something else there—a hint of reluctant acknowledgment.

after a while, most of the ice cream had been devoured, leaving just a few melted remnants. you laid on your back, your legs crossed, your eyes fixed on the sky. sukuna lay beside you, his body still tense and rigid, but there was a notable change in his attitude—he was calmer, more at ease. the park was quieter now, the occasional sound of night birds breaking the silence. the cool night air held a hint of the approaching end of summer, a subtle reminder of the changing seasons.

you turned your head slightly, your eyes flickering to sukuna as he lay beside you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the park. he still had that ever-present air of aloofness, but there was something quieter about him now, something almost vulnerable in the way his gaze softened when he thought you weren’t looking.

your eyes lingered on him for just a moment before returning to the sky, the stars scattered like tiny specks of light across the dark canvas. the memory of yuuji’s words echoed in your mind, the way he had mentioned sukuna’s insomnia—how it had been plaguing him for months, leaving him restless and irritable.

without turning back to him, your voice broke the silence, soft and contemplative. “how’s your insomnia?” you didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t push or pry. it was a simple question, laced with genuine concern. you hoped he’d take it for what it was—an invitation to share, not a demand for answers.

sukuna’s head turned toward you, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned your face. his expression was a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, his brows furrowing as if trying to piece together how you knew something he’d never openly discussed.

“where’d you hear that?” he asked, his tone sharp, though it lacked its usual bite. there was a flicker of unease in his voice, like someone caught off guard by their own vulnerability. sukuna’s gaze didn’t waver, studying you intently as if your answer held some hidden truth he needed to uncover.

his body tensed slightly, his fingers curling into the grass beneath him. sukuna wasn’t used to people knowing things about him without his permission—it left him feeling exposed. but beneath the suspicion, there was a faint glimmer of curiosity, almost as if he wondered why you cared enough to ask.

you shrugged casually, your eyes fixed on the sky as you responded, “yuuji mentioned it once.” your tone was nonchalant, almost dismissive, as though it wasn’t a big deal. but the way you avoided sukuna’s gaze didn’t escape his notice.

sukuna’s suspicion didn’t wane, though his expression softened just a fraction. he clicked his tongue, leaning back on his elbows, his gaze flickering between you and the stars above. “of course he did, that motherfucker can’t keep his mouth shut,” sukuna muttered under his breath, the irritation in his voice failing to mask the faint unease he felt.

for a moment, the air between you was silent, heavy with unspoken thoughts. sukuna’s jaw tightened, and his eyes returned to you. “and what, you thought you’d ask me about it? why do you care?” his voice was gruff, but there was a quiet vulnerability hidden in the edges of his words.

you shifted slightly, rolling onto your side to face sukuna. the cool grass tickled your arm as you propped your head up with your hand. your gaze locked onto his, steady but gentle, your expression softening.

“i just want to know,” you murmured, your voice barely louder than the whispers of the night breeze. there was no teasing in your tone, no sarcasm—just sincerity. the words lingered in the air between you, and sukuna’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your openness. his crimson gaze searched yours, as if trying to decipher your intentions, his suspicion slowly melting into something more uncertain.

he let out a slow exhale, turning his head slightly to avoid your eyes. “you’re too nosy for your own good,” he grumbled, though the edge in his voice had softened, his usual sharpness dulled by the weight of your words.

sukuna found himself caught between irritation and an unfamiliar sense of comfort. he despised the thought of anyone knowing his vulnerabilities, particularly something as private as his insomnia. yet, the way you brought it up didn’t feel intrusive—it felt oddly considerate.

he wasn’t used to people taking an interest in his struggles, let alone asking about them. sukuna bit the inside of his cheek, his gaze fixed elsewhere, refusing to meet yours. “it’s just insomnia,” he muttered under his breath, his tone uncharacteristically subdued. “nothing worth mentioning.”

you hummed softly, your gaze lingering on sukuna as your thoughts drifted to all the things you wanted to do—dreams you wanted to chase, moments you longed to experience before life slipped through your fingers. the weight of unspoken desires hung heavy in the air, and before you realized it, the words spilled from your lips.

“let’s make a deal,” you said suddenly, your voice quiet yet firm, breaking the tranquil silence of the park. you offered no explanation, your expression unreadable as you waited for sukuna’s reaction, your eyes searching for any sign of curiosity or intrigue.

sukuna’s ears perked up at the sound of your proposition. he turned his head towards you, his eyes locked on your face as he studied your expression, trying to gauge what you were thinking.

for a moment, he said nothing, just took in your words and the tone they were spoken in. there was curiosity in his gaze, mixed with a hint of skepticism. sukuna’s mouth twisted into a small smirk, his interest piqued. “a deal, huh?” he mused, his voice low and husky. “and what exactly are you offering?”

your lips stretched into a soft smile, the corners quirking up with a hint of excitement that you couldn’t quite hide. “since you’re still dealing with that insomnia,” you began, your tone light yet sincere, “how about this—you keep me company while i do all the things i want to try at night.”

there was a spark in your eyes as you spoke, the prospect of late-night adventures lighting up your expression. sukuna couldn’t miss it—the genuine enthusiasm radiating from you, making it clear just how much the idea meant to you.

sukuna’s smirk widened into a small, bemused smile. he raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your proposition. he running his fingers through a maze of his pink locks. he studied you, his crimson gaze scrutinizing every detail of your face, as if searching for any hint of deception or hidden motive behind your proposal. but all he found was that same spark, that same excitement, as you spoke.

“you want me to tag along on your little nighttime expeditions?” sukuna asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. “be your shadow for all your late-night escapades, a personal insomniac tour guide for the night?” he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

you hummed in agreement, nodding your head confidently. “exactly,” you said, your tone playful yet matter-of-fact. “it’s not like you’re doing much anyway—just lying around in bed, staring at the ceiling. might as well make better use of that time and join me.” a grin spread across your face as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, adding an extra touch of mischief to your words. the playful gesture was your way of convincing him, daring him to resist your enthusiasm.

sukuna couldn’t help the small, scoffing laugh that he let out at your enthusiasm. he shook his head slightly, still amused at your brazenness. “are you sure you want me tagging along?” he asked, a hint of mockery in his tone. “i don’t exactly have a reputation for being cooperative.”

he shifted in his position, his body still rigid as he leaned back on his elbows. sukuna continued to study your excited expression, a touch of skepticism lingering on his face, yet he found you amusing. “aren’t you scared i’d just drag you down?”

you rolled your eyes, letting out a small huff. “you’re the worst, sukuna,” you said plainly, a teasing edge to your tone. “and honestly, i already expect you to be the worst, so it’s nothing new.”

shifting your position, you lay back on the cool grass, gazing up at the night sky. tilting your head slightly, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “but i promise,” you added, a soft smile playing on your lips, “it’ll be fun. so fun, you probably won't even remember the last time you actually enjoyed yourself.”

sukuna’s eyebrow twitched slightly at your blunt words, but he couldn’t argue with your truth. he was definitely far from the easy-going type, and anyone who knew him even a little would agree. sukuna grumbled under his breath, scoffing softly. yet his eyes locked on your form as you lay back on the grass, a strange feeling washing over him. sukuna’s smirk widened a fraction, almost as if he was suppressing a smile. he lifted his eyes to the night sky, matching your gaze to the stars above.

sukuna turned his head, his gaze flickering back down to you. “alright, fine,” he finally conceded, his voice gruff. “but i’m going to complain the whole time.” sukuna’s words were laced with his usual irritation, but they held a hint of a challenge, a hint of daring you to prove him wrong.

sukuna’s gaze remained fixed on you, studying your expression as you lay beside him, your gaze still lingering on the stars. for a moment, he simply watched you, taking in your relaxed form and the slight smile playing on your lips. sukuna’s mind was plagued with a hundred different thoughts, but one thing was clear—he found your optimism almost endearing.

TAGLIST :

@byerno6 @curtins @creamflix-deactivated20250101 @m00nyt0astforever @starmapz @aerareads @loveperfectionchaos @jinxiewritings @batmanslobster @vitoshi @monic19 @jayathelostdragon @ureuphoriasworld @cvr2mya @satorustorm @toratsue @sukubusss @clp-84 @jasminelee324 @v1sque @after-laughter-come-tears @blubearxy @cherryredribbons @loveherplease911 @jazztaeee @anything-and-everything-here69 @norikuna @blubearxy @cherryredribbons @moonchhu @favvkiki