#i want to squeeze him i love him my beloved

[lostgracestories]

So uh..

I had a ✨Vision✨ Morgott would so be into being overstimulated- just getting absolutely ridden within an inch of his life, shaking drooling sobbing begging for more.. absolutely cum-drunk on the scent of pleasure, the sound of praise falling from our lips. He absolutely has a thing for praise, let’s be real- Morgott would be desperate to please, he's spent his whole life begging to serve-he'd be so good at it. His one good eye completely eclipsed by his pupil, fluttering shut with every compliment… Whimpering, whining, keening for more..

I am so insane about this man it is ridiculous

GUYS HELP OMG

Okay so I wrote a whole ass thing for this and omg I love you for requesting this AAAAA

wc: 1.2k (I GOT INTO IT) tw: Sexual themes (literally sex that's it), First time sex, Female reader

So Good for Me

The sight beneath you was Godly, serene, perfect, any lovely word you could think of. You weren’t sure how you’d convinced Morgott to go along with this…

“Beloved… Are you certain you are willing?” You looked up at him. His eye snapped up from where he’d seen you straddle him and met your eyes. The beast of a man was shaky and flustered. In all the time you had known him, love him, you had never seen him like this… granted, this was both of your first times.

“Beloved…?” You pressed for an answer and were met with a shaky and weak nod. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you chose to go by his reactions, not thinking he would give you much else to go on… 

You carefully wrapped your soft fingers around the tip of Morgott’s cock. A glob of pre was dripping from his slit and you heard Morgott shift. Stubborn as he was, you doubted that he would let go of his pride to offer you any sort of moan. You didn’t mind, you wanted him to feel safe during your first time…

Your fingers began to gently trace the vein leading down the underside of his shaft, you reveled as the fur on his tail, laid beside him, stood straight up. You looked up at his face, his eye squeezed shut and his lips pursed tightly together. You let out a puff of dissatisfaction and released his cock.

As his cock lay over his stomach, you brought yourself closer, resting your cunt against his shaft and ever so gently rolling your hips as you cupped his face in your hands. You traced his features and his eye slowly opened to look at you, his mouth finally parted just slightly as his bottom lip quivered.

“Beloved… you are doing so well… my precious omen” You weren’t sure if what you said had done it, but Morgott trembled underneath you and let out a shaky sigh. He wasn’t even certain why your words had pulled such a reaction out of him, but he felt so much more sensitive… and he didn’t hate it. “M-my queen… thou art- so small-” He voiced his concern and flinched when you lined his tip up to your sopping cunt. In return, you brushed those gorgeous soft hands over his abdomen while lowering down on him, letting out a squeak when his cock pushed inside. “Love… please just- hh.. Enjoy this…” You had to force yourself not to cry out in a blend of pleasure and pain as you pushed him in as far as you could manage. You didn’t want to startle him, to make him think he hurt you. He’d never let you touch him again… you needed to be slow… The moment you slowly began to pull yourself up and drop yourself back down on his cock you listened as a whine erupted past Morgott’s lips. If you weren’t so stuffed full with him, you would have smiled. Instead, you threaded your fingers through the tuft of fur leading up his stomach to his chest and more broken praises fell from your lips as you leaned up to look at him. “Doing- hh… so good for me- beloved… Relax, love- I-I’ve got you-”

Morgott could swear he was seeing stars. He could not help but reach his hands up and wrap them around your hips as he watched you spear yourself on his cock. The lewd sounds that your cunt made every time his cock dipped back in had Morgott reeling. His breath came in ragged pants as he drank in every praise you offered him, his heart felt like it might explode. Suddenly his eye widened and a lewd pop sounded from beneath her.

Your hands gripped onto the fur over his chest finally as your hips stuttered and you clamped down on him. Release washed over you as you panted, in search of air, cunt clenching and spasming over his cock. You had hardly noticed until just now that Morgott’s knot had made its way inside of you and now… you were stuck. “So perfect…” You hummed and brushed your fingers over the bulge in your stomach where Morgott’s cock was resting snugly inside of you. Suddenly a gasp was wrenched from your throat as the display brought Morgott to his breaking point, stripes of white covering your insides. Morgott was shaky and his common sense and pride were in shambles. Perhaps…

You wiggled yourself around him, unable to free the knot and it earned a whorish moan from the man’s throat, ripping it out of his lungs to the fullest extent as you did not relent your efforts. The sounds of his overstimulated desperation had you fired up again and you could barely keep your hips from grinding down on him, attempting to force him deeper as if it were possible.

Morgott felt like the breath was being stolen from his very lungs, the sensation in his gut drawn out for so long, too long. He whined pitifully and his grip tightened around your hips. Whatever you were doing to him, he didn’t want you to stop. 

“M-my lady-” Morgott’s quivering voice escaped his throat, crackly and desperate as a tear rolled down his cheek and into his bearded jaw. “P-prithee- do not- ah- do not cease-”

He heard you hum in response as your grinding quickened and his tail thumped against the bed. His brow was beaded with sweat and he was gasping for breath through his whimpers and moans like he was drowning. Morgott’s body trembled beneath you, the fur above his cock brushing over your sensitive clit repeatedly. The sensation yanked a whine out of you, your hands coming to grip his large fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. “B-beloved- fuck- oh gods you are perfect- you are- hh- my perfect king-”

The words you spoke seemed to ignite something inside of him. The moment the words had left your lips, Morgott had begun to release a loud string of whines, moans, and half intelligible pleas for you to keep going. By the time you felt the knot in your own stomach snap, releasing over his cock, you shuddered as you felt his own release spilling into you once more, accompanied by a whorish moan. 

For a moment, you looked down at your king, mouth agape before you collected yourself and dipped down to pepper kisses over his tear stained face. “You did so well, beloved…” You hummed the words like a melody and he met you with a shiver, barely able to rasp out his own words.

“Thou art- wonderful, my lady…” It was all he could manage before blowing a hefty sigh and slowly allowing his eye to close. You were still connected to him, and you would be for a while. You laid against his chest, closing your own eyes as you allowed rest to slowly take you. Before you gave in to sleep, you spoke to him, voice thick with exhaustion as you listened to the steady thrum of his heart. “Not a bad first time, was it love?”

“...Aye…”

He replied, voice still raspy but now combined with a mixture of exhaustion and comfort

“...T'was enjoyable”

[eggofthefish]

BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH ANOTHER LETSPLAY, my children need fed so even if it's a silly doodle I figure I would release some onto you.

Mr. Bergen Slayer JD my beloved, a concept by the lovely @priestessofnox with her awesome fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/52871335/chapters/133734883

GAHHH I love the concept. I'm going to draw more but I need to post this or by golly I never will, I suck at posting stuff!

[windser]

i just know i would have the BEST sleep sprawled out against laios chest. he'd literally be a human furnace and we'd be all sticky from the shared heat in the morning. but being surrounded by love and appreciation? yeah, it makes it all worth it.

[thecursedanon]

Rainy Day

Characters: Lee!Yuji, Ler!Nanami, Sukuna(only in Yuji's head), Megumi, Nobara, Inumaki (because I love this little dork, okay? lol) Genre: Comfort <3 Word Count: 3166 Summary: Yuji Is super down today, that and he's not been sleeping well due to the nightmares he's been having. His friends, concerned about him go to Nanami with their concerns, and the stoic teacher takes it upon himself to cheer Itadori up. A/N: Hey, Curse here! This was originally intended to be part of the Amusement Park Aftermath fic, but I couldn't organically fit it in so I split them up... so that's why there are similarities in the setting. Enjoy!

Though the mood had been upbeat and calm in the days before, today it seemed as though a rain cloud loomed over Jujutsu Tech-- both figuratively and literally. Everyone seemed a bit more somber today.

Even Yuji wasn’t immune to the effects as he gazed out his window at the bleak gray sky, winds whipping the trees around and causing the leaves to drift around with reckless abandon.

He sighed softly, leaning over and resting his face on his palms as he watched the gloominess outside from the edge of his bed.

He heard his door open, but didn’t turn around or acknowledge it. Nobara and Megumi had been peeking in on him periodically to make sure he was still alive, clearly unused to the pink haired teen being a recluse.

“He’s still moping.” Megumi sighed.

“Should we go get Gojo sensei?” Nobara asked.

“We want to cheer him up, not make him worse.”

“I dunno, he seems pretty good at this kind of thing...”

Inumaki poked his head into the room with them, signing as he spoke. “Bonito flakes…” Megumi is right… “Mustard Leaf.” Gojo would just overwhelm him more.

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

Inumaki paused, the blonde tapped his chin as he became deep in thought. Nobara shot Megumi a look that screamed; ‘this is who we’re taking ideas from?’ as she gestured to the other teen.

“Tuna mayo?” Maybe Nanami can help?

“If Gojo can’t help, what makes you think Nanami sensei can?”

“He’s right.” Megumi nodded in agreement with Toge’s idea. “Nanami is our best bet. If something serious is going on, Yuji might be more comfortable talking to Nanami about it.”

Inumaki nodded his head, looking quite pleased with himself as Nobara sighed. “Fine, let’s go find him…” With that, the trio headed to Nanami’s classroom and explained the worrying situation to him.

“That explains why he hasn’t been blowing my phone up this morning…” He sighed softly. Yuji had a bad habit of spamming his phone with an overabundance of positive texts, or any and all memes he found that he thought were funny… most of the time they weren’t.

“I’ll go talk to him,” He nodded, standing up from his desk. “Thank you for coming to me.”

Back In Yuji’s room, he had actually started to doze off watching the rain fall down his window when there was a knock at his door. He sighed, trying to ignore their efforts.

There was another knock, this one softer and a bit more hesitant than the first. 

“Guys, I’m not dead in here. you can stop checking on me.” He called out, half asleep.

“Itadori?”

Yuji perked up at the sound of the voice. “Nanamin?”

“Is it alright if I come in?”

The pinkette nodded, but realized he couldn’t see him. “Yeah, you can come in.” he responded, turning around to look at the door.

Nanami walked in and closed the door behind him, assessing Yuji carefully for any signs of distress. “I haven’t heard from you In a while… I wanted to check in on you.” He said, his voice softer than usual.

Itadori smiled a little, and when he did, Nanami could see just how exhausted the teen looked. “Yeah, sorry… I haven’t been on my phone.”

That in and of itself was alarming.

The blonde teacher approached him cautiously. “Yuji, you look like you haven’t been sleeping.” He observed out loud. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Itadori brushed off his concern, trying to shake off the fatigue. “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Watching too many Jennifer Lawrence movies, again?” There was a note of teasing on his words as he spoke to the pink haired boy. (Okay, more than a note.)

Yuji felt his face heat up. “Noooo…” He subtly nudged his chair to conceal a stack of Jennifer Lawrence movies he had in fact been watching the night before. 

Nanami, of course, saw this. He let out a small chuckle as he idly picked up one of Itadori’s blankets from the floor, folding it as he spoke. “Yuji, if something is bothering you… you know you can talk to me, right?” He asked, glancing up at the teen as he neatly set it down on the bed. “Even if you think it’s something minor…”

Yuji bit his lip and looked back out the window. “Yeah… I know that…It’s just my thoughts are so scrambled right now… I don’t even know how to start talking about what’s bothering me...”

Nanami frowned, picking up another blanket and approaching the pinkette with it. He carefully draped it around him and sat down next to him. “I understand…”

A memory flickered to the forefront of his mind, he recalled saying something similar to his best friend when he was Yuji’s age. Haibara had responded by looking for the fluffiest, most comforting blanket he could find in their dorm room and damn near smothered Kento with it as he wrapped him up in it and hugged him tightly.  

It was times like this that he wished Yu had still been alive, he’d be much better at this sort of thing than he was… “I’m sorry.” Kento said softly, his hands firmly grasping his students shoulders. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Yuji looked at the window, the rain and wind had kicked up even more outside. “Can I… have a hug?”

Nanami nodded, not hesitating to engulf him in a big protective hug at his request. “Of course you can.”

Yuji smiled, the warmth from the blanket and the warmth radiating from the tight hug was soothing to him. He wrapped his arms around Nanami in response, resting his head on his shoulder. 

As he sat there with him, the room silent save for the rain falling outside and the soft breathing, he felt his racing thoughts slowing down a bit… making more sense rather than being incoherent whispers speaking over each other.

But that soon became a problem too, as the reason for his anguish presented itself.

He was sad.

He was really fucking sad… He missed his grandpa. He was exhausted from trying to put on a brave front all the time, when the truth of the matter was; he was still just a scared, sad kid who missed the only family he had ever truly had...

As Nanami sat there holding the student, he felt him begin to tremble in his arms. “Itadori?” He asked softly, holding the teen tighter to try to silently reassure him he was okay.

“I’m… sorry…” Came the small, whimper of a reply. Small sobs escaped his shaking form as he buried his face in the blonde’s chest, his tears soaking into the blue fabric.

“Hey… don’t be sorry.” Kento responded, keeping his tone low and gentle in an attempt to soothe the boy. “It’s okay… shh… you’re okay.” He began rubbing circles into the pinkette’s back as he spoke. “I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere…”

If Yuji hadn’t have already been crying, he would have been now. He clung onto his mentor like a scared child as he sobbed harder.

It became clear to Nanami just how much pain the boy was in, his muffled cries sounding anguished and terrified. It absolutely broke his heart, he wasn’t sure how to take the pain away from the usually bright light hearted teen, and he desperately wanted to.

“I’m so tired of being scared, Nanami!” he cried into his chest.

“Yuji… It’s going to be okay, you have nothing to be afraid of here. I’ll protect you.” The usually stoic teacher whispered in response.

“But who will protect you?” Itadori whimpered, burrowing further into his protective hold. “I can’t lose you too!!”

“Yuji…” Nanami felt his heart twist at the student’s outburst, he wished more than anything he could say that he wouldn’t lose him, and that everything would be okay in the end… but he knew from his own experience that wasn’t the case. He knew how cruel this line of work was… it didn’t discriminate with the lives it claimed.

“I can’t lose you…!” The boy sobbed, his frame shaking like a leaf in the blonde teacher’s strong arms. “P-Please…!”

“Shhh… hey, listen to me okay? I have no intentions of going anywhere.” Kento whispered, gently rocking Itadori in his arms. “Why are you so worried about me? I haven’t died yet.”

“I…” Yuji pulled back, looking up at Nanami with tears falling down his face. That also broke his heart. “I-I’ve been having these nightmares… Where y-you… you…”

“Shhh…” Nanami reached forward and gently pulled the crying pinkette back into his warm embrace, stroking his hair gently as he guided his head to rest against his chest. “Yuji, they’re just bad dreams… do you hear that? My heart is still beating. I’m still here. You’re okay… I’ve got you.”

This seemed to soothe some of anguish the boy was feeling, his sobs becoming small whimpers as he began to calm down at the sound of Nanami’s heartbeat in his ear.

They sat there In silence together for a while, the only other sound in the room was the rain hitting Yuji’s window and his sniffles and whimpers.

But soon those would silence too, and Itadori would slowly pull away from Nanami again. His eyes were puffy from all the crying he’d done, and his face was tear stained. “N-Nanamin?”

“Yes?”

“Th-Thank you…”

The blonde smiled softly at him, gently wiping away some of the remaining tears from his face. “Of course…” 

Yuji giggled a bit as Kento grazed against his neck when wiping his tears away, causing the blonde to pause and give him a confused look. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” Itadori said quickly, smiling nervously as his mentor stared at him.

Oh?

Nanami smirked, ghosting his fingers along Itadori’s neck, causing him to squeak and recoil with a giggle. “Nothing? Are you sure about that?”

“Nanami…”

“Itadori… you wouldn’t happen to be… ticklish, would you?”

“W-Well would you look at the time? I’m gonna be late for my training session with Gojo and-- ACK!”

“Oh no you don’t.” Kento grabbed onto the pinkette before he could escape, pulling him back into his arms and pinning him against him. “Even if you did have training with Gojo right now, which you don’t because he’s out of town… I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

“Wh-What did I do?”

“I told you I’d protect you… that includes from yourself and your sadness.”

“But Nanamin… I’m not sad any--eeeeehehehehehe!” Yuji’s protests were interrupted by a squeal followed by adorably bubbly giggles as Nanami began to tickle him.

“Oh please, don’t insult my intelligence… I know you’re still sad, you’re just not crying anymore.” Nanami rolled his eyes fondly at the boy, squeezing at his side teasingly.

“Nahahahahanami! Ihihihit tickles!” Itadori whined, but despite his complaints he made no attempts to get away.

Nanami chuckled at his reactions, sneaking his hand underneath Yuji’s shirt to lightly tickle his bare side. “Does it now~? How unfortunate for you… because I have no intentions of stopping until you feel better~”

Yuji giggled harder as he leaned into Nanami’s hold. “Ihihihihi’m not sahahahahad anymore!”

“Itadori, It’s okay to be sad…” Nanami said soothingly, skittering his fingers up and down his ribs as he spoke. “It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling… but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you suffer through it alone.”

The most adorable thing about this whole thing? Yuji wasn’t resisting, he was actually angling himself in ways that would give Nanami more access to his ticklish spots… which he found utterly adorable.

“Itadori, you know… you could at least pretend to want to get away~” Kento chuckled in amusement at his student.

“I dohohoho want to get ahahaway!” Yuji lied… because If he really wanted to get away, he totally could.

“Oh, you do, hm? Is that why you’re rolling around like a puppy trying to get me to scratch its belly?” Nanami couldn’t help but tease the boy, his fingers drifting to Yuji’s stomach. “Is this what you were looking for~?”

Itadori squealed as he felt Nanami’s fingers lightly dance across his toned stomach, practically melting in his mentor's hold as he laughed harder. “EHEHEHEHEEK!”

It’s now coming to Itadori’s attention that he may… and I repeat; may be… enjoying this. (He is.) 

Sure, every once In a while he’ll get the occasional poke here and there, or Gojo will be… well, Gojo… and tickle the absolute snot out of him but… Nanami’s tickles are much more gentle and affectionate. It’s almost relaxing in a sense… plus he never knew his parents, and his grandfather wasn’t exactly the most physically affectionate so it’s kind of healing to his inner child right now to be tickled by someone he views as a father figure.

Also, he just really loves playing around with him like this… this isn’t a side anyone sees of Nanami.

Did I mention Yuji is an adorable ball of sunshine yet? because he totally is.

“Ah, that was definitely what you wanted…” Nanami teased, his fingers tracing teasingly along his stomach, producing the most adorable giggles he’s heard in a very long time.

“Nahahahahanamin! Nohohohoho! Nahahat the behehehelly!” Yuji squealed, covering his face as his half hearted protests fell on deaf ears.

“Not the belly? why not? It seems like as good a spot as any…” Nanami hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it for a moment. “Hmm… Nope, sorry. I think I’m going to stay right here for a bit longer, you’re a tough kid, you can take it.”

Yuji squealed again as his stomach was tickled with more vigor.

‘Seriously, brat? He’s not kidding… You really are like a dog who wants his stomach rubbed. The only thing you’re missing is the damn leg kick.’ Sukuna taunted Yuji internally.  

‘Suhuhuhukuna shuhuhuhut up!’ Poor Yuji couldn’t even escape the teasing in his mind.

‘You know you could easily get this to stop, don’t you? Just allow me control and--’

‘Absolutely nahahahat!’

‘Why not? Don’t tell me… you actually ENJOY this, do you?’

‘Ihihihim not gonna lehehehet you hurt him!’

‘How pathetic… you truly are an annoying brat.’

“Nahahahanamihihihi plehehehease!”

The blond relented his attack, allowing the pinkette to catch his breath. “Are you feeling any better yet?” He asked gently, keeping his unofficial son trapped in his grasp as he calmed down.

Yuji nodded, giggling a bit still. “Y-Yeah.. thanks dad.”

Oh fuck.

He didn’t just…

Nanami froze as he heard those words come out of Itadori’s mouth.

Itadori panicked inwardly, his distress making Sukuna chuckle in amusement in the back of his mind. “I-I mean… yeah, thanks dad.” He said much more sarcastically this time, hoping that Nanami would go for it.

He did not. 

“Yuji… did you just… call me dad?”

Yuji felt himself tear up, fearful that he just ruined the relationship he had with Nanami. “Y-Yeah, but I meant it in a joking way.”

Kento frowned, he knew by the way the boy’s voice quivered that he was lying. “Yuji…”

“I-I’m sorry.” Yuji shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to contain his emotions. “I-I didn’t mean to… I-It… It jus-- EEK!”

Yuji shrieked as Nanami resumed his ticklish attack, now holding the teen’s arms above his head and tickling under his arms.

“NAHAHAHAHANAMI?? AHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHYHYHYHYHY ARE YOU TICKLING MEHEHEHE??”

“Because you’re sad again.” Nanami answered simply.

“AHAHAHAHAREN’T YOU MAHAHAHAD AT MEHEHE??”

Nanami leaned down a bit so he could speak directly into Yuji’s ear. “Why would I be mad?” His voice was low and calm, as if he wasn’t completely annihilating Yuji with tickles right now.

“BEHEHEHECAUSE IHIHIHI CALLED YOU-- EeEeEeEeEEEEK!” Yuji shrieked as Nanami blew a raspberry against his neck, cutting him off. “NAHAHAHAHA!!”

“I seem to have missed the part where you did something to make me mad…” Nanami smiled a bit, his fingers not slowing their pace against Itadori’s ticklish armpit whatsoever.

“BUHUHUHUT IHIHI… IHIHI CALLED YOUHUHU DAHAHAD-- AIEEE!”

Itadori was interrupted by another raspberry against his neck. “And?”

“IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHORRYEEEEHEHEHEHE!” Yuji shrieked again as he dealt another massive raspberry against his neck. Before he could form semi coherent sentences again, Nanami laid him down on his back on his bed and pinned his arms down above his head.

“Yuji Itadori… If you apologize to me again, you’re going to regret it.” Nanami said sternly, though his green eyes sparkled as his gaze remained gentle on the teen. “My cursed technique isn’t just useful for inflicting pain…It can also be used to make ticklish troublemakers even more ticklish…”

Yuji took a moment to catch his breath, and tried to collect his thoughts before responding. “N-Nanamin… Why aren’t you mad at me…?”

“I told you, you haven’t said anything to upset me.”

“But… I called you… D-Dad… That doesn’t upset you?”

Nanami smiled. “No… It doesn’t.” He let go of Itadori’s arms, and just let him lay there instead.

Yuji frowned, tears quickly flooding his eyes as he looked away. “You can’t possibly mean that… you’re just trying to reassure me-EEEE--” the pinkette squealed and began cackling again as Nanami blew a raspberry on his stomach.

“New rule, every time you apologize for no reason or overthink, I’m going to tickle you.” Kento smirked, watching as the boy composed himself again.

“B-But…”

“Yuji… I’m not just trying to reassure you. I meant that.” Nanami’s voice was gentle as he spoke. “If calling me Dad makes you happy then… you can call me that any time you want.”

Itadori sat up slowly, his eyes still sparkly with tears. “Y-You… really don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Kento reached forward and wiped Yuji’s tears. “I happen to care about you.”

Welp. That did it… again.

Yuji started sobbing again, leaning forward and burying his face in Nanami’s chest as he ugly cried

Kento pulled him into a comforting hug, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Shh… It’s okay now… You’re safe.”

‘You truly are a pathetic creature, you know that?’

‘That may be… but at least I’M loved sooo… suck it.’

After a few more minutes Yuji began to calm down, and he pulled back from Nanami. “Thank you… I needed that.” He smiled, wiping his eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me for comforting you, you know…” Nanami mused. “I really don’t mind.”

“Heh… Yeah I guess you’re right… sorry-- EEHEHEHE!” Yuji shrieked as Nanami reached forward and tickled his stomach, after using ratio to make him even more ticklish, of course.

“You never learn, do you?” Nanami sighed, though his words may have come out as disappointed, the playful glimmer in his eyes betrayed him.

It seemed It was going to take some time for Yuji to learn not to be so apologetic and overthink so much, and Nanami was content to keep tickling him until he got that message through his skull… Yuji was also content to let it happen.

[shslpunkartist99]

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ILoveThemI'mSorry

[kakusu-shipping]

🔀 and also 🔪 for Overwatch if you have any

I wanted to draw for all the swaps I really did but this one in particular would require me to draw TWO robots and I'm just not... strong enough...

Asks from Here

🔀 Crossover Ship: Pair the wrong s/i with an f/o from a different universe and talk about their dynamic!

I ended up going with my Virtue's Last Reward S/I sense he is, partially, shipped with GTM-CM-G-OLM, a character with 30 minutes of screen time, and my Shipped with Zenyatta S/I, sense they're the OG of the OW S/Is and both shipped with Robots <3 Yay continuity!

My VLR S/I is, in short, a being from a higher plane that's love for K and desire to help him caused them to break through space and time, causing the entire game's events, just to be with him and give him the love he deserves. It's based on the noncanon ending of VLR. (you can read a mini fic about it Here)

To fit into OW lore I imagine he'd be something akin to The Iris, possibly the Iris taken human form, come to Earth. I'm not sure why it's come to Earth, but I imagine it's not very Good at the whole. Being human thing. Zenyatta finds it on his journey post Mondatta's death and take it along with him, assuming it a normal lost human. The dynamic from there would be Traveling Companions learning Humanity together, what it is to be Alive, to love and grow and change and what not. Deep stuff.

My Shambali Overwatch S/I is a human mechanic who ran away from home at a young age hoping to help Omnics and learn from Master Mondatta. He and Zenyatta are Childhood rivals to friends to lovers 10 year slow burn. (long fic series that one, the first of that is Here)

Without spoiling VLR, I imagine this S/I was the creator of GTM-CM-G-OLM and the other GAULEMs, maybe he's around the same age as K and the two use to hang out when he wasn't working. He probably takes way more interest in the GAULEMs than K though, so K remains the loneliest man in the world. Sorry K, this S/I is Robotsexual </3 GTM-CM-G-OLM is a very casual flirt and handsy, and this S/I is very easily flustered by physical affection from Hot Robot, so their dynamic is very sillie to me <3

🔪 F/E: Fictional Enemy, character I would fight with my self-insert

Oh I'm always ready to throw hands with Hanzo Shimada. Always. My S/I is Best Friends with Genji, he's basically my baby brother. When I get my hands on Hanzo he is getting a broken nose, wither that be what Genji would want or not. Hanzo takes and accepts it, it is his repentance.

Peeps in the Discord also know I have a personal Genji related Beef with Angela Zeigler as well. It is also very much On Sight with her and my S/I. I'm not letting her get away after seeing Blackwatch Genji, oooooh no ma'am, that is NOT how you build cybernetic prosthetics. We're gonna have some words

Genji doesn't like either of these beefs I have, he's forgiven Hanzo and is very grateful to Angela for saving his life and would really like me to do as Mondatta taught and let it go, forgive and move on, but I simply cannot. I am full of hate and rage for these two very specific people.

[yamikawaii]

I would absolutely carry you in my arms all day!! I would carry you around like my sweet little baby while I cook you food!! Waffles, pancakes, or both????

also I never want to see, hear, or hear rumors about you disliking anything about your appearance, baby, not your voice either, you are the most beautiful thing on this planet and I am systematically electrocuting everyone in my way of having you

with the only romantic love you ever need - Yoomtah

AWAAAAAAAAAAAAA BUT WHAT IF I WANNA CARRY U AROUND AND MAKE FOOD FOR U TOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!AND WHAT IF Y O U ARE ACTUALLY THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING ON THE PLANET U ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST THING PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE OK<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<33<3<3<<3<3<3<4<4<3<<3

[6gumi]

“ inexperienced ” my ass !

⋆.˚ NSFW mdni . wc . 884 . multi-fandom men x f!reader 、AGED ! UP CHARACTERS ! 、 cunilingus 、maybe tit play ? ? am not suresies ! 、softies . . hehe 、messiest eaters eva . . x-x — 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑰 : “ eeeek ! here is ‘anotha filler thirstie ( sad face ) am so sorrie i haven’t been able tew get my drafts in ! eeeek hope dis makes up for it . . hehe ( ´ - ` ) ! ”

“i’m not that experienced, baby . . . so don’t expect much.”

. . . such a liar he was. you knew your boyfriend was a liar . . . but you never knew he was this much of a liar! your lashes fluttered, mouth hung open at the feel of his wet tongue along your cunt. he peeled your clothes away, baring your body to him completely. the sight of you, naked and glistening with sweat, left him utterly breathless. he needed to see you writhe beneath him, to hear the sweet music of your passion. your boyfriend’s breath hitched, the temptation was almost too much for him to bear. his calloused hands reached up to take one of your breasts in his grip, giving it a gentle squeeze. a soft moan escaped your throat, your soft flesh filling his grasp. his other hand traveled up your waist, moving around to cup your other breast. his fingers teased your nipple, rubbing in a circle before flicking it lightly.

you could feel his gaze on you . . . his eyes darkened as he whispered against your breast, "let’s get your pussy all nice and wet." leaning forward, his lips planted smooth kisses along your midriff . . . trailing even lower than before. his tongue snaked out, swirling around your clothed pussy. “h—hey . . .” you murmured, the tips of your fingers digging against his scalp. he hiked your skirt up against your waist, revealing your ass to him completely, the lace of your panties was the only barrier between his mouth and the sweet nectar he craved. he slid his hand beneath the waistband of your undergarments . . . sliding the fabric down to your knees. “make sure to use your pretty mouth and tell me when to stop . . kay?” shit, he could feel himself growing hard at just the thought of getting his hands on your luscious body. “because . . i think i’ll be too focused on how much you taste to even stop myself.”

your boyfriend settles to his knees, his cock straining against his pants. he licks his lips, teasing the soft flesh of your pussy before diving in. his tongue darts inside, circling your clit once. twice. he moans, his voice muffled by your cunt. he’s loving every second already, feeling your warmth enveloping his tongue. the larger male slid two fingers inside, his thumb pressing against your bud . . . setting a steady rhythm, working them with skill. he’s tasting nothing but his beloved’s delicious flavor, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “you . . . ah!—said you were inexperienced . .” he gazed up at you, those sweet eyes of yours were going to send him to the moon . . while his were sharp; and serious . . . as if daring you to deny him, to tell him no more, to push him away. but he knows you wouldn’t want him to stop, no . . not one bit. "i am.” “th-then why—mmh! you’re a liar, a big fat liar !”

“mhm . . say whatever you want.“ he purrs, his voice filled with wanton desire and smugness. his wet muscle teased around your wet folds, tracing a path as he ate you out like a starved man . . the way he moved his tongue against you felt good, almost too good for someone who was “inexperienced”. blush covered your entire face . . indicating just how embarrassed you were. the way he licked and sucked at your cunt drove you crazy. your boyfriend gave you a soft hum, feeling your body react to the gentle touch, the muscles in your thighs clenching. “so sensitive," he whispered, his expression a mix of pride and amusement, a hand gently stroking the side of your face. "—yet such a good girl. you’re taking this quite well.” his lips curled up into a devious grin, the sight of his pretty girl being weakened by his ministrations was only fuelling his fire. he revelled in that power, enjoying the ability to make you quiver and squirm. "you still good, baby?" he asked, amused, his hands moving in tandem with his tongue. he hummed at your subtle nod, his fingers pinching your nipple from below with just the right amount of pressure to bring you to the edge but not send you over. just seeing your legs tremble so much . . . he already knew he was doing a good job, he could even feel the wetness coating his face, and he lapped it up hungrily, craving more.

"shit.." he cursed, though not out of frustration, “your pussy is driving me crazy." he whispered against your folds, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through your entire body, it almost felt as if you were being electrocuted or something. “my darling girl with such a sweet pretty pussy . .” his tone was firm but filled with a promise of more pleasure to come; he wanted you to experience every inch of ecstasy he could give you. your boyfriend’s fingers slipped between your wet folds, desperate to get another reaction from you . . the constant sounds of slurping and sucking filled your ears, it almost felt wrong to listen to how well he was licking you up “such a liar . . . . hng. you were experienced all along!” his grin faltered for a moment as he heard the desperation in your voice, chuckling at your fucked-out expression. “you’ve got it all wrong,” he whispered, his voice rough. “i’m only learning . . . i’ll get better, ‘promise.”

— CHOSO KAMO 、MICHAEL KAISER 、 RENSUKE KUNIGAMI 、reo mikage 、ARGENTI 、kamisato ayato 、MIYA ATSUMU 、SUNA RINTARŌ 、sunday 、RAFAYEL 、YUKICHI FUKUZAWA 、chuuya nakahara 、TAKUMA INO 、wriothesley 、JING YUAN 、 CHIGIRI HYOMA .

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[bunnis-monsters]

Vampire who wants to breed reader, though vampires cannot have children. The breeding kink still stuck strong 😳

NSFW

pt2

He can’t stand it, the way your pussy squeezes around him so tight, as if you’re trying to milk him dry. You whine and cry out for him to fill you up, to give you a baby…

But he can’t.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try, though. The thought of breeding you, of filling your womb with his cum, and creating a new life with his beloved gets his cock twitching inside of you.

Just the thought of giving you a creampie is enough for his cock to be straining against his shorts.

You just look so cute underneath him, a little woozy after he’s fed on you, your cheeks warm and eyes hazy. Little whimpers leave your plump lips as you beg for him to make you a mommy.

“I will, my love. Don’t you worry, this one will take.”

He can’t help but fuck into you, the tip of his cock pressing against the special spot that has you mewling and digging your nails into his back.

Images of your belly becoming heavy and swollen with his child fill his mind, and he can almost picture how much your breasts will grow and fill with milk. He’s cumming in no time, and it will be far from the last load you take that night.

He’s not giving up on breeding you. You’re his mate, it’s his job to impregnate and protect you and his young. It just might… take a while.

But you never complain when he’s fucking you like that…

[patheticdarling]

Her Sacrifice

Summary: The assassins had no such luck finding Prince Aemond but what were they to do when they stumbled upon the beloved wife of King Aegon instead? Her belly swollen with his heir.

Warnings: Blood & Cheese/murder/gore & blood/cursing/threats/blades/pregnancy/kidnapping/funeral/incest (reader is helaena's older twin)

Word Count: 2236

"The other lords will be accompanying me for a drink in the Throne Room. Shall you join us, Wife?" Aegon asked, a slightly eager smile on his face, anticipating your agreement.

You sighed as you began to undo the braids in your hair, "The hour is late, Husband. I must rest."

Aegon pouted, "Just a cup! We've attended to our royal duties all day, have we not earned a bit of respite?"

"Respite is what I shall get with a good night's sleep. Not drinking until sunrise with you and your comrades," you teased. You stood from seat at your vanity, walking over and placing Aegon's hand on your growing bump, "Besides, do you not wish for our babe to be born healthy? So that they may grow into formidable dragon riders like their parents."

He smiled softly at your belly before kissing it sweetly, "You make a good point, my dear. Mayhaps I should stay in with you."

You shook your head, smiling down at him, "Do not let me stop your fun. You are right. The King deserves his respite. Besides there may not be many more nights where we get to enjoy ourselves," motioning to your bump.

"You are going to make a wonderful mother," Aegon stood from his seat, "I shall allow you to enjoy your last moments of rest then." He planted a soft kiss on your lips, "I love you, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "I love you, Aegon."

Aegon kissed you once more before giving your belly a playful squeeze and disappearing from your chambers. You summoned one of your ladies to help you finish getting ready for bed. Thanking her as you got yourself comfortable between the silk sheets of you and Aegon's bed. Finally bidding her good night as she blew out most of the candles, leaving a few on for Aegon's drunken return.

You could not be sure of the hour when you heard your chamber doors creak open followed by the shuffling of feet. You did not even bother opening your eyes, assuming you'd feel the bed indent as Aegon stumbled towards it.

"Back so soon?" you teased, "I was only being half serious about the sunset-"

Suddenly, a large hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes shot open as two men loomed over you. You screamed and panicked as the larger man used his other arm to keep you pinned to the bed.

"Quiet!" the smaller man pulled a blade out, pressing it to your throat, "Unless you want me to bleed you like a pig."

You nodded, terrified of what these men could do, "W-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Its not our wants you should be concerned with, Your Grace."

"Who sent you? What do y-you want from me?" your voice shook.

"A life is owed. It wasn't supposed to be you. A son for a son we were told," the smaller man shrugged, "But it seems Prince Aemond isn't in the castle tonight."

Of course, you thought. This was about Lucerys. Your younger brother had taken the boy's life and that was a deed that could not go unpunished. You knew how deeply your eldest sister loved all of her children. The loss of one would be devastating. Taking Aemond's life made sense. But taking yours? And the life of your unborn child? That was not in Rhaenyra's nature. This was plotted by someone far more sinister and dark.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" you spoke up. They both sent stares to the other, "Daemon Targaryen. He sent you to kill one of us."

The large man scoffed, "Aren't you a smart one?"

"Shame those smarts won't do you any good now, will they?" the smaller one mocked.

"Please," you tried to beg, "Do not do this. No good will-" The large hand came down on your mouth again.

"That's enough," he grunted before turning back to the smaller man, "I'll hold her down and you cut."

Your blood ran cold at his words. Not only were they going to kill you but they were going to tortuously cut out your unborn child. They both yanked you further down the bed until you were flat on your back. You tried to kick, scream, bite, thrash as much as you could but the man proved to have almost inhuman strength. The smaller man raised his blade, that same sadistic grin plastered on his face before he began to dig it into the lower part of your abdomen.

White hot pain seared through your body as he continued to slice into you. Your vision was blurred with tears and you could have sworn your throat was raw from your cries. Though the pain was so intense that you could not process the sounds that might have been leaving you. Warm blood pooled all around you, the once ivory sheets now a deep crimson. One last gasp left you as they pulled your child from your body.

Suddenly you had remembered your mother telling you about the pains of childbirth when you first married Aegon and all anyone could talk about was you producing his heirs. She had a rather negative approach that utterly terrified you. So, you decided to find comfort in Rhaenyra's advice instead.

"I will not withhold the truth from you, it truly is the most excruciating pain a woman must go through."

You groaned, "That is not what I had wished to hear, Sister."

"You did not let me finish. The process is hard, yes. And you will feel the urge to curse the Gods or even your husband and swear to never bear anymore children," you both laughed, "But the moment you hear those sweet cries and your babe is placed upon your chest, the pain is forgotten. And nothing has ever seemed so worth it. Then you will know, right then and there, that you would do it all over again if it meant you could finally find that purest form of love."

And yet, you would never discover that beautiful feeling your sister had painted so clearly. The room was almost eerily silent besides the dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

"What do you know?" the man panted as he held your lifeless infant, "A son. Congratulations, my Queen."

You could not speak as you felt your body numb itself. Tears falling with no cries as they stuffed your son's body into a sack. It was as if you could feel your heart shatter. The men finished their sinister act before fleeing through a secret passageway. You tried little to fight the heaviness in your eyes. Perhaps this was all a horrible dream and if you shut your eyes, you'd open them to find yourself in bed with Aegon's arms wrapped securely around your belly. The last thing you could muster was a small smile at the sentimental image as your vision faded out completely.

"Sister?" Helaena called out into your bed chamber, "I did not wish to wake you but Aegon is being so loud and I cannot sleep with him-" Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of your mangled body lying on the bed. Your figure lifeless and your eyes vacant as you stared at the canopy. She approached your body, a shaky hand reaching out to touch your face to be met with utter stillness. Helaena backed out of the room slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks before sprinting to find some sort of help. As if anyone could undo what had already been done.

"I-I don't know what happened. I came in and she...she was..." Helaena's voice cracked with sobs as various people filed into the royal bed chamber; the Kingsguard, the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and lastly, your husband.

They all stopped at the sight before them, their eyes welling with tears and their stomachs churning. The Dowager Queen let out a heavy sob as all their attention turned to the King. Aegon approached your body cautiously.

He fell to his knees, his hands cradling your bloodied face as he sobbed, "My wife, my dearest-"

Nobody dared say a word as Aegon mourned over you. His sobs heavy with grief as he called out your name over and over again. The Queen Mother clutching Helaena's arm as they cried with him. The Kingsguard hanging their heads low in shame at their failure to protect their Queen. Otto Hightower, known to be quick with his word, said nothing.

The council meeting that followed was one full of dread and grief. Most of the council mourned, the Hand schemed, and the King could do not but curse the Gods and swear revenge.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of the funeral arrangements for the Queen-"

"No," Aegon was quick to stop the Hand, who raised a brow at his grandson's denial, "I will not have my wife's body dragged through the streets like a dog!"

"Not dragged, honored!" Otto corrected him before lowering his tone as he spoke to the King, "Y/N was my granddaughter and I loved her. She deserves the funeral of a Targaryen princess, a Targaryen queen. The small folk wish to mourn their Queen and the heir she carried. And they need to know who is responsible for this."

Aegon's face twisted in disbelief, "How could they not already know?! Who else would do this save the bitch queen of bastards?!"

"We must know for certain, Your Grace," Lord Jasper suggested, "If it was not your sister, this may prove to be an even bigger threat to the crown, to you, my King."

Aegon scoffed, "I do not care what threatens me. My wife is dead. And my child," he stifled a sob, "That cunt did this, I know it. Her and her kingdom of traitorous bastards will burn for it."

Before anyone could speak, the doors of the council chamber opened as Lord Larys entered. He bowed meekly as all eyes turned to him.

"My lords, Your Grace," he greeted the council.

All stood still, "State your purpose, Lord Larys," the Hand spoke.

"We have apprehended one of the assailants. A gold cloak, known for his brutal nature. The guards caught him fleeing the Gate of Gods. He carried the child's body in a sack."

The King hardly wasted any time, stomping over to the doors, "I shall kill him myself."

"We might retrieve further information about who is to blame for this tragedy after questioning," Ser Criston stopped Aegon from leaving as Otto spoke, "I trust in your skill set, Lord Larys."

The Strong Lord bowed before exiting the room. All eyes turned once again to the King and his Hand.

"We will hold the service for both the child and mother-"

"I said no," Aegon grunted, "My wife and child will not be put on display for the Realm."

"Your Grace, we might use this to our advantage in the war you wish to march into. Your people need to know the depravity that Rhaenyra is capable of. The great houses of Westeros will see that she is not fit to rule given her cruel nature. They will flock to your side and with them, their armies and bannermen."

Aegon continued to shake his head. He could not just let them see you or your child like that. They did not deserve it.

"Mother," he turned to the Dowager Queen for support.

Alicent approached Aegon's chair, "The Hand sets on a difficult path, my darling, but it might be the right one."

The King could not muster anymore fight, "Have the Silent Sisters prepare the Queen and child for their journey. Behind them will be Princess Helaena and the Queen Mother."

"No, I do not wish to be a spectacle," Alicent argued but her father would not hear it.

Your husband visited your body as the Silent Sisters began to prepare it. They had cleaned the mess and dressed you in one of your favorite dresses, the emerald color complimenting your skin and hair.

"Your Grace, it is ill-fated to look upon the face of death," Maester Orwyle warned.

"That is not the face of death, Maester. That is my wife," Aegon spoke, "Leave me with her."

Maester Orwyle and the Silent Sisters bowed before leaving the King with your body. He softly stroked the hair from your face as he broke into sobs once again.

"I am so sorry, my love," he cried, "I-I should have been there to protect you. And our son." Maester Orwyle had informed His Grace that the child you carried was a prince, a perfect heir, "You truly would have been the most wonderful mother. You were already a perfect wife and Queen. Motherhood would have come naturally."

Aegon recounted how well you did with Rhaenyra's last two babies, the ones she had with his uncle Daemon. As much as he did not care for his half-sister, he knew you did. Always quick to defend her, even against your own family. So, he was forced to ask himself, how could she do this to you? To your child?

"They will pay for what they have done," your husband muttered to you, "I will win this war. I will win it for our child. I will win it for you. With fire and blood. Your sacrifice will not be for naught, my Queen."

[cute-sucker]

note: hands and rafe?? fluff!! this came to mind. i wanna talk about it so bad so y'all are forced to listen to my rambling idc. (might do a nsfw one if y'all want it...i'm sorry)

extra note; this is dedicated to my first anon; the beloved 🪐 anon <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

when rafe's hands are on your waist, dragging you close it means he's possesivally telling everyone who you belong to, and especially when his hand drags down to that small base of your back that you love so much, feeling yourself flush

when rafe hands reach for your, needing that small way to be close to you, you know to move closer to him, knowing that he needed you and that you needed to be there for him.

when rafe hands hold your hand, a calloused large hand weaved with your tiny one you can almost feel the shyness in the gesture, the vulnerability he's offering you, that softness that you could only get from him

when rafe's hands wrap around your shoulder, he's drunk and laughing at stupid joke as you give him a cheesy smile. you only need a squeeze on the shoulder to know he's completly yours, as his eyes are that dazzling steel blue you know too well

when rafe's hands drums on your thigh, you look up to him looking concentrated on whatever he's doing. he needs to keep his hand there, not caring about the prying looking that the guys give him, or the viciously annoyed looks girls toss your way. he just needs to close to you

when rafe's hands brushes your hair away, a small graze on your forehead, or while braiding your hair, you know he's reminding something. there is something about hair that drag him back to his youth, you think, because he gets teary eyed almost.

when rafe's hand grab at your elbow you know he's pissed with his rough touch. your elbow is some place that he drag you to turn around. usually it means you will be taked to in a demeaning way, snark clear in his tone, yet that soothing touch on your elbow tells you another story

when rafe's hands fiddles with your fingers, you know he needs something to drag him back to reality, that soft distracted of touch of his makes you hide your smile; something that he'll snap, 'what,' when he notices you looking at him in that shy way

when rafe's hand cups your jaw, it could be two things. it means he needs to look at his eyes to ground himself and know that you're still here with your wide doe eyes, and a clear look on his face, or it means he wants to see the look on your face when he teases you, a clear flush spreading across your face as he drags your face up to kiss you

when rafe's hand lingers on your wrist, it means he's checking your heartbeat to make sure nothing has scared you. sometimes you jump up, and his hand quickly travels to that delicate part of your body to check your heartbeat. you always find yourself feeling so grateful that he cares about you so much

when rafe's hands reach to wrap around your stomach, where he tucks his head in that hollow of your shoulder, you know that you need to ease him. you need to take care of him if it's by giving him something like a sweet kiss, or whispering a promise that will make him happier

when rafe's hands feel for you at night, a urgency in his touch hoping that he won't make contact with a cold bedsheet, and instead he'll make contact with your warm body which is twisted along his own as if the two of you were melded into one and another

when rafe's hands stretch the waistband of your sweatpants, you can't help but laugh, at how silly he is, how touchy he is. but he's like how poets say, the other half of your soul, and you let him do his silly acts

when rafe's hand grazes your eyes, you know you'll find him leaning over to kiss both of your fluttering eyes, a calm soft touch that will make you sigh. he knows sometimes you need it to calm down, that gentle touch that'll make you feel safe.

when rafe's hands stay reached to your side, you feel more loved than you ever have.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

SOMETIMES I LONG TO EAT YOU UP ; RYŌMEN SUKUNA

synopsis; sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you. he cooks for you, instead.

word count; 6.0k

contents; ryōmen sukuna/reader, gn!reader, househusband!sukuna, no curses au, fluff fluff fluff!!, sukuna is Whipped bc i say so, (he bullies you a bit but he does so lovingly), lots of cooking and descriptions of food, implied reincarnation au if you reeaalllyyyyy squint (but feel free to ignore it if that’s not your thing!!), reader is a silly goose, sukuna vs human emotion (he loses), he’s ooc but he’s Free

a/n; >:3 is anyone shocked….. that’s right. ari is in fact capable of writing for characters who aren’t stsg….. this one has been in my wips for Many Months now but i finally finished it!! i just think being in a nice warm kitchen could fix him. (super cute dividers by @/enchanthings !!)

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you.

throughout the years you've been together, it's something you've grown used to. words like love must feel foreign in his mouth — even more so when they slip into the air, voiced, manifested. 

discomforting, if the crease between his brows is anything to go by.

he only says it under certain conditions, little moments here and there, all of them memorable; a particularly sentimental midnight drive, that time you broke down sobbing into his chest after a rough day, the night he proposed. and so on. little moments, precious moments, few and far between.

that’s just how sukuna is. unaccustomed to being loved, even more unaccustomed to being in love. swallowing the words down, afraid of what could happen if he spoke them aloud, through more than a mere whisper. as if they could burn you.

you don’t mind, because you know him. and you know that he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it nearly as often as you do. 

sukuna shows his love for you in other ways. driving you wherever you need to be, holding you to his chest when you’re sleepy, watching reality shows with you even though he hates them; always watching over you, making sure you’re safe and happy, almost hunting for anything that could disturb your peace. you can feel that love, almost reach out and touch it — a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through large crowds, a bouquet of camellias waiting for you on the kitchen table as soon as you get home. it’s there. concrete.

but, above all else… sukuna translates his boundless love into food. 

the sun rises outside the walls of your apartment, slow and steady, hazy sunlight flitting through the windows of your kitchen and dyeing the open space in a golden glow — like something out of a summery daydream. you rub the tender skin beneath your bleary eyes, as your feet move you forward. slowly, groggily.

stumbling towards your target.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you wrap your arms around his waist, forehead bumping into his broad back, practically tackling him into a hug. he’s become attuned to the sound of your clumsy footsteps. he makes a tiny noise, acknowledging your presence, and that’s all. 

the low purr of the espresso machine buzzes in the air, as he watches over the process, dutiful as ever. the same drawn out, thoughtful process he goes through every morning; picking out the beans himself, grinding them into grounds, and making a cup for you with his beloved, expensive coffee machine. making sure every setting is exactly as it should be. it gives him peace of mind.

and it needs to be perfect, in every possible way — so sukuna tries his best not to let you distract him.

(he never quite succeeds.) 

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you squeeze his waist. hands wandering, feeling him up, buzzing with the warmth the contact gives you. he’s always so cozy, like this. all you want is to smush your face into his plush chest. but sukuna clicks his tongue, and places a palm on your forearm. keeping it still.

his voice comes out raspy, excruciatingly deep. a gruff kind of tilt to it that makes you shiver.

”assaulting me first thing in the morning, are we?”

you’re a little too sleepy to respond, too out of it. still reeling with the hazy remnants of your deep sleep, stretching your limbs out groggily and making a little mrm sound that makes his lips twitch up. unwillingly, might he add.

the two of you do this every morning. it’s a ritual, of sorts, one that you need to function properly — he always makes you a morning cup of coffee, and you always cling to him through the process. he always huffs and puffs and clicks his tongue, but never actually pushes you off. all sukuna does is absently caress your arm, where it rests around his midsection, still watching over the slow brew of the coffee. attentive.

you try not to disturb him too much, you do. because you know he loves this, deep down; the morning sunlight kissing up his nape, the sense of peace sinking into his bones. the feeling of your chest against his back, your fingers fiddling with the strings of his apron. but eventually, you always give in to the temptation of speaking — of coaxing a response from that deep, raspy morning voice.

so you part your lips.

”did you have nice dreams?” is murmured into his back, your cheek smooshed against the soft, dark fabric of his tight turtleneck.

sukuna hums. listening, always, even when he pretends to tune you out. then comes his response.

”i never dream.”

a moment passes.

you bite down on your lip, struggling to withhold a giggle. it doesn’t really work — but you tactfully pretend not to hear his displeased grumble.

”right,” you smile. ”my bad.”

another soft silence washes over you. just for a couple of moments, as you drowsily blink, and sukuna puts two ceramic cups on the counter. blissful, until you break it again.

”i think i dreamt of you.”

sukuna stills. only barely, just for a second, a brief twitch of his fingers; waiting. for tiny crumbs of love, ones you give out like candy, almost absentminded. like you don’t even have to try. ones he never fails to pick up, tuck into his pockets, chew between his teeth.

(sometimes, he envies how freely affection seems to spill from your lips.)

it’s touching, in a way. the idea that he never quite leaves your mind. that he’s there, always, even in your dreams. it’s… sweet. he supposes.

a little yawn leaves your lips, as you stretch your limbs out, akin to a sleepy cat — and he strains his ears to hear what you’ll say next.

”you were a cashier at the mcdonalds i went to.”

…

a click of his tongue — his hand slipping from its position on your forearm. ”get out of my kitchen.”

and just like that, a burst of giggles bubble up inside your throat. muffled into the cotton of his sweater, a sound that makes his heart feel a little too big for his body. ”noooo…” you whine, nails digging into the fabric so he can’t shake you off. clinging to him tighter when he tries, no real intent behind it. ”’m sorry. don’t get mad!”

”i would never work there,” he scoffs. ”frankly, the thought is insulting.”

you quirk a brow. ”what kind of beef do you have with mcdonalds?” 

”don't ask me stupid questions,” he huffs, clicking his tongue, a bitter lilt to his voice. ”they don’t make food. it’s practically contaminated — poisonous. i don’t want you eating that plastic.”

(why would you want to, when you have me to make you anything you want?)

you bite down on your lip, trying to hide a teasing smile. endeared, by how grumpy he’s getting. ”aw. i like it, though...”

sukuna sighs.

”alright, then.” his voice is controlled, hiding every single tinge of his carefully concealed frustration. he must have been an actor in a past life, to sound so effortlessly unbothered. ”go buy yourself one of those cheap, awful, bland cappuccinos you love so much. i’ll pay.”

your lips twitch upward. he’s just being snarky, you know he is, but you still bundle up his sweater with your fists. shaking your head. ”i’m just kidding,” you purr, biting back another yawn. ”only want yours.”

sukuna stills. silent, once more. trying not to acknowledge how your words tug at his heartstrings, chew at the bones of his ribcage. something like pride sprouts in his chest, and it’s enough to get him to smooth his thumb over your knuckle again. content. finally, the kitchen falls silent, only the low purring of the coffee machine to fill your ears — until that dwindles out too.

a kind of peace settles in the air. something holy, sukuna thinks. 

something that makes him feel human.

he moves his hands delicately, tenderly. attentive, as he pours hot espresso into your cup, slowly and gracefully, a delicate rhythm to his steady hands. just thinking of how warm you feel, like this, how you touch him like he’s harmless, like he could do no wrong in your eyes. how your voice sounds so pretty in the wake of a new morning, when it’s just a little raspy, unguarded in a way that makes him feel like he’s cradling a wounded bird in his arms. something fragile and majestic. he pretends not to like the sound of it, the way it distracts him from his extensive brewing process; but sukuna thinks he’d do just about anything to hear it once more.

absolutely anything.

”what are you thinking about, sukuna?”

”nothing,” he’s quick to hum. maybe a little too quick, but before you can question it, he scoffs. ”are you gonna cling to me all day, you little brat?”

”… can i?” 

sukuna clicks his tongue.

(he’s awfully lucky you don’t look up to see the cherry red tint of his pierced ears.)

three little words begin to crawl up his throat. he can feel them, ticklish, heavy, and gulps them down before they get too far. busying himself with the clinking of coffee cups and stirring of silver spoons. then he’s turning around, to face you properly. blowing on the cup, a fragrance of espresso spreading throughout the kitchen, blending with the blooming flowers by the windowsill.

he hands you a cup of coffee, made just the way you like it. glancing at your forehead; wondering if he should pair it with a kiss.

(maybe later.)

”careful. it’s hot,” he hums. then he’s turning around to prepare his own cup, while you murmur your thanks, squeezing affectionately at his waist. taking a sip of the bitter brew. a warm cup of coffee, thoughtfully crafted, only to be passed into your awaiting hands. the same transaction you repeat every single morning.

the same act, conveying the same sentiment; those three little unspoken words. 

you take another sip, and a smile blooms on your lips. 

your stomach is growling.

it’s been ten minutes since it started. ten minutes since you noticed the pit of hunger in your gut, growing more and more for every passing second; and you’re trying to ignore it, valiantly, sitting in your cubicle and mentally cursing yourself for being so scatterbrained.

how on earth could you forget your own lunch?

a pang of ache bubbles up in your stomach, and you curl into yourself. sitting on a not-so-comfy chair, doing your best to survive, staring at the clock on the wall and watching the minutes tick down. only twenty minutes left of your lunch break.

in hindsight, it was inevitable. inevitable that you’d burn yourself out, eventually, that it’d make you lose sleep, that your fatigued brain would forget something so important. so fundamental to your peace of mind. you need your lunch to focus properly — there’s no way in hell that you’ll make it through the work day otherwise.

you could accept your fate and go buy a sandwich and a can of coffee, but…

(dammit.)

sukuna always makes your lunches himself. tailored to suit your tastes, to give you the nutrients and energy you need not to lose your mind or set the building on fire, with all the hours you spend staring into your computer screen and writing until your brain turns to mush. they’re always delicious, always lovingly made, and you think you might break down and cry if you have to settle for a cheap sandwich instead. you’d rather swallow crushed glass.

a sigh slips from your lips.

your coworker shoots you a sympathetic glance, hearing yet another of your stomach’s agonized growls. she taps at your desk, to get your attention, and you look up to meet her kind eyes. ”my offer still stands, you know?”

you give her a smile. ”no, it’s fine,” you murmur, rubbing the back of your neck. ”eating someone else’s handmade food just wouldn’t feel right…”

”… he spoils you, huh?”

a huff. you pout a little, and she chuckles, going back to eating from her bento. it’s hard not to feel jealous. it’s even harder not to think of the bento still waiting for you in your fridge.

finally, you resign yourself to your tragic fate. putting both palms on your desk, ready to lift yourself up; doomed to survive on a cheaply made sandwich and a too-sweet can of coffee. it’s not ideal, not at all. but it is what it is.

(if only you hadn’t forgotten it…)

”you’re a klutz.”

something is placed directly in front of you. two boxes, stacked on top of each other, wrapped up in a pink cloth — neatly tied, smelling just slightly of food. tantalizing.

you raise your head.

sukuna has one eyebrow raised, a mild expression of disbelief painted on his face. unimpressed, as he gazes down at you, hair tousled and slicked back. wearing a leather jacket, black like the tattoos etched into his skin, on his face, a larger one running in streams of ink from his shoulder down to his forearm. you can see a tiny bit of it, crawling towards his collarbone. equally tantalizing.

a click of his tongue breaks you out of your stupor — stuck in place, staring at him silently. like he just fell out of the sky. 

”sukuna,” you sputter, finally, glancing down at the bento and then back up at him. ”you —”

”you’re lucky i noticed,” he cuts you off. ”almost didn't make it in time.” one glance at the clock on the wall, and he’s placing a can of peach tea on your desk; it’s still covered in condensation, his fingers leaving prints on the aluminium. ”i should go. doubt your bosses will be very thrilled to have a motorcycle parked outside.”

”ah.” you fall silent. looking down at your lap, wearing a weak smile, a little too ashamed for his liking. ”… sorry, ’kuna. i know you’re busy.”

he gazes down at you, slumped in your chair, bags beneath your weary eyes. an apologetic smile on your lips, a little dejected. like you’re being scolded.

(his eyes soften.)

sukuna shakes his head. only slightly, by a hair, but enough to put you at ease — to let you know he isn’t upset, that grumpy is simply his default state. his voice shifts into a lower, softer tone. ”just don’t forget it next time.” 

then he flicks your forehead. gently, not enough force behind it to even sting.

”klutz,” he says, again, and you know it’s a term of endearment. a smile sprouts on your lips.

you sit up straight, eyes crinkling as you look at him, before falling down on the bento in front of you — practically drooling as you think about the meal you’re about to have. ”thank you,” you coo, a sweet grin on your lips as you meet his gaze. voice tingling with barely contained fondness, expression and posture brightening as you tap your feet beneath your desk. ”i love you.”

something smooths over sukuna’s face; something you can’t quite put your finger on. his lips are pursed, and his amber eyes simmer with something awfully fond. swirling like the spots of sunlight on the wall just behind him. it’s brief, easy to miss — a single tug of his lips. the tiniest little smile.

his hand reaches out, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he brushes through your bangs; adjusting them. and you know it’s just an excuse to touch you, that he’d let himself be greedy and ruffle your hair if you weren’t in public. he doesn’t like having an audience, small as it may be. but he can’t really control himself, when it comes to you.

”make sure to eat all of it,” he hums, glancing out the window, towards the motorcycle parked outside. ”i’ll come pick you up later.”

you smile, and sukuna leaves. elegant, even in the way he moves, collected and confident. languid, long legs and a broad back. the warmth of his palm on your head remains, as you wave after him with a cheery see you soon!

and it’s finally time.

with an eager kind of giddiness, you unwrap your bento — ignoring your still growling stomach, the jealous mutters of your coworker, the ticking of the clock on the wall. from outside the window comes a ray of sunshine, a streak of gold falling across the floorboards. it illuminates the contents of your lunch, and you swallow down a gulp. the presentation is lovely, as always. the top layer carries a mouth-watering cutlet, a wide array of little vegetables, fresh and clean, while the bottom one has a couple perfectly formed onigiri; they’re awfully cute, shaped into little pandas, decorated with dried seaweed and sesame seeds.

you pick one up, holding it in the light of the glittering sun. it’s so cute you almost don’t want to eat it at all.

”did he really make that..?” your coworker mumbles, still chewing on her own food. you’re too hungry to respond.

you fish out a tiny note, tucked between the boxes. that’s where he usually puts them. you don’t remember when it started, but you know he enjoys it; writing down little reminders or words of encouragement. his handwriting is beautiful, clear and concise. your eyes trail over every little word, every letter, the little smudged scribble in the middle. it makes you smile.

you’ve been working hard lately. don’t overdo it. the company won’t fall apart if you slack off every once in a while. i lo we can watch that show you like when you get home.

a warmth spreads throughout your body, from the pit of your stomach down to the tips of your fingers; your heart constricting to make room for the love that blooms between your ribs. you barely even notice the wide smile on your lips, leaning forward to leave a little kiss on the paper. it’ll have to do, since he isn’t here to receive it himself.

and as you dig in, savouring every piece of food he made, you’re almost certain you can feel it. that burst of emotion he always tries to contain, the three little words that always sputter out on the tip of his tongue. the cutlet is perfectly crispy, juicy on the inside, practically melting on your tongue. seasoned thoroughly, cooked to completion, so tasty it makes your mouth water. the onigiri are stuffed with a wide array of fillings, fluffy rice blending nicely together with the contents, little grains sticking to the corners of your mouth. and the veggies are cut into cute little star shapes, light and refreshing, balancing the meal and making you wolf everything down with a bright smile. 

there’s love, in this. in every meal he makes for you. there’s love in the way he’s picked out your favorite ingredients, all the seasonings you like, love in the way he’s put so much effort into the presentation alone. love, love, love. you can practically taste it on your tongue. the peach tea tastes sweet and fruity, and you gulp it down eagerly, bento left empty.

there are only five minutes left until you have to start working again, but you feel nowhere near as spent as before. you think of his hands, his eyes.

his love.

(god, you can’t wait to get home.)

a soft, orange glow simmers in the kitchen — an atmosphere too sweet not to savour.

your dining room table is covered in a white cloth, burdened by the weight of one burning candle and an expensive vase; stuffed with camellias in all hues, jasmine buds and pretty bluebells, floral scents mingling with the cinnamon-like one of the scented candle. every inhale fills your senses with pure bliss. 

not to mention the food. 

you’re drooling. you’re sure of it. eyes darting from plate to plate, dish to dish, overwhelmed by the delicacies; trays of sushi, perfect cuts of salmon and tuna cushioned by soft rice, maki rolls stuffed with all your favorite toppings, plenty of soy sauce in tiny cups. fried shrimp, a golden colour, fluffy and crispy, and miso soup topped with garlic and cubes of tofu, steam rising from the ceramic bowls.

and then, of course, his infamous dumplings, grilled on both sides — a perfect golden brown. 

all your favorites.

sukuna takes hold of a teapot. made of glass, stuffed with a blooming chrysanthemum, petals stretching out like rays of sunlight in the golden water. he pours it into two ceramic cups, and then promptly drags a chair out for you; a silent beckoning.

but all you can do is stare. 

”sukuna…”

he quirks a brow, meeting your astonished stare, eyes round and confused like a puppy’s; painfully cute. he could eat you up. ”what?”

you open your mouth, then close it again. silent, furrowing your brows as if in deep contemplation. ”our anniversary is in august, right?” something panicked smooths over your face. ”i didn’t forget?”

a sigh spills from his lips. ”don’t be dumb,” he clicks his tongue, glancing away for no more than a moment. ”we haven’t had much time to eat together, lately. that’s all.” 

(he missed you. he wanted to spoil you, a bit.

he could say it out loud; but he chooses not to.)

either way, he knows you get the message. because suddenly your eyes glimmer, and a full smile blooms on your pretty lips. you waste no time in plopping down on the seat in front of you, right across from sukuna. ”hehe. thank you, baby.”

he huffs. tiny, more of a shy little breath. ”alright, already. eat. before it gets cold.”

”okay, okay!” 

he watches as you grab your chopsticks, hungrily eyeing all the dishes on display. listening to his own heartbeat; thrumming, softly, just behind his ribs. pulsating like a fish gasping for air.

”gosh. when did you even do all this?” you ask, soaking in the intimate atmosphere, as he runs an absent hand through his hair. still smelling lightly of coconut oil from the shower he barely had time to take — but he’d rather die than soil this moment with the smell of his cooking-induced sweat.

”when you were away.” he reaches for the cup in front of him, tracing the tips of his fingers against the ceramic. ”jin helped. not with the cooking, obviously, thank god. but…” he raises it to his lips, before taking a sip. ”the ambience. i suppose.”

a hum. you raise your hand, reaching for the bouquet of flowers. ”did he bring these, too?” a curt nod is all you get; it’s enough to have your lips raising up into a smile, fingertips brushing against the petals, pink and yellow, cupping the flowers like they’re made of glass. ”no wonder. do you know what bluebells symbolize?”

sukuna stills. he meets your gaze, eyes trailing towards your knuckles, your fingers, how they blend together with the petals. how he could almost mistake them for stalks. he leans back in his chair, and mutters under his breath;

”… why else would i ask him to buy them?”

you blink. not in surprise, but realization. the sweet kind, like a splash of citrus blooming on your tongue, refreshing.

(he’s always been a bit of a sap, hasn’t he.)

”… that’s true,” your lips split into a sheepish smile, hoping he won’t feel the heat of your cheeks from this distance. ”they’re pretty. thank you.”

another little furrow of his brows. ”enough of that,” comes a sigh. ”if you really want to thank me, make sure the food doesn’t go to waste.”

you stifle a giggle, reaching for the bowl of miso soup. following his advice. sukuna watches you dig in with a certain look in his eyes, something alert and attentive, soft in the corners. resting his chin on the heel of his palm, waiting patiently for those little blissful sighs to start spilling from your lips. wallowing in the finely crafted atmosphere, pleasant scents and soft lighting, the air brimming with something tender and raw.

he spent all day preparing this. planning out every single meal, waiting for jin to arrive with the scented candles and flowers, cleaning the kitchen until not a single speck of dust remained. cathartic, to immerse himself into cooking for you, cutting tofu and vegetables into little cubes and slices, fiddling with the temperature settings and watching blue flames lick at the stove like hungry snakes. gutting the fish he bought fresh from the market, dipping large shrimps into boiling oil. there’s something powerful about it, something he can’t quite put his finger on. something that makes him feel at ease.

and it’s tender — the act of creation, of feeding someone you care for. he didn’t appreciate that part of the process until you came into his life. he didn’t truly love cooking, either.

(he doubts he’ll ever tell you, but he won’t ever stop being grateful for that.)

you continue to eat, sipping from the soup, dipping sushi into soy sauce, munching at the tempura, humming happily to yourself. you look so pleased, so content, like the cat that got the cream. sukuna watches. his eyes stay glued to your fingers, the way you hold your chopsticks, the grain of rice that sticks to the corner of your lip after a particularly big bite. his ears stay keen, intent on picking up on every little joyous hum behind your teeth. even while eating, he’s feeding off your reactions; every expression you bless him with.

he fell in love with the way you eat many years ago.

”so good,” you moan, closing your eyes in pure bliss, and he has to take a sip of his tea to cover the smug smile on his face.

”make sure to finish what’s on your plate,” is all he says, but the honeyed note in his voice gives his satisfaction away. awfully pleased by your approval. ”i made dessert, too.”

at that, your eyes light up even further, swirling with something excited and sweet, and he fails to hold back an amused little huff.

the evening continues. you eat your fill, warm soup and fried food and sugary ice cream, and promptly fall asleep on the couch in the middle of a romcom he only watches for your commentary. snoozing on his shoulder, all tuckered out. always so sleepy after eating. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers gliding across your soft skin. he spares a moment to admire you, under the soft glow of the living room lights — unable to shake away that greedy vein beneath his skin. if it was possible, he’d admire you forever.

but there’s no way you’d ever manage to sit still for so long, so he carries you to bed instead. big, strong, tattooed arms, lifting you up with ease, like a baby bird in the maw of a rottweiler. handling you with the utmost care, tucking you in under the covers, leaning forward to press a single kiss between your brows —

and then you smile.

…

sukuna stills. he watches you, watches you, watches you, every single miniscule motion of your stiff facial features. 

then he pinches your cheek.

”owww!”

your eyes flutter open, flashing with betrayal, and sukuna only gives you that signature click of his tongue. ”did you really think you could trick me so easily?”

”i did! you carried me here!” your lips fall into a petulant frown, as you scramble to sit up straight against the fluffy pillows. he only rolls his eyes.

”i wanted to appease you,” he says, and you almost fall for it because it’s not quite a lie. ”such a brat. can’t even walk on your own, huh?”

”well, pardon me for wanting my sweet fiancé to hold me.”

”i hold you all the time.”

”it’s not the same,” you sigh, two little shakes of your head. ”whatever. you wouldn't get it.”

sukuna quirks a brow, but doesn’t push it. instead, he releases the slightest exhale, eyes blooming with amusement, his palm finding its way to your tousled hair. smoothing down your skull.

”go back to sleep,” he beckons, softly, almost hypnotically. his voice is at its most tender when it’s late at night; a little too exhausted to sharpen his syllables properly. ”i’ll hold you later.”

”… you’re not joining me?” you ask, eyes filling with confusion, and he feels a slight tug at his heart — a little string that ties him to you. 

”i need to plan next week’s meals,” he mutters, watching as you furrow your brows, meeting his gaze with a pair of disappointed puppy dog eyes. 

you know he’s weak to them.

”don’t pout,” he scoffs, looking away for the briefest little moment. weak. ”i'll do it quickly.”

”you always say that,” comes a heavy sigh. you bundle up the covers with your fists, shooting him a bitter little glance. ”but it always takes forever.”

”don’t complain,” he tuts. tilting his head, pink locks falling across his forehead, his maroon eyes. ”haven’t i pampered you enough tonight?”

at that, you fall silent. still pouting.

he tries not to feel bad. he wants to sleep with you; but he can’t. sunday nights are for meal planning. they have been since you first moved in together, and he’s not planning to put a fork in the road of his carefully nurtured routine anytime soon. he needs to make sure you eat balanced meals, get all the vitamins you need — it’s practically life and death.

still, it itches at him. the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, curl in on yourself. you look sleepy and disappointed, and the bed looks empty, which only makes you look smaller in comparison. you look small and lonely and sad. it makes him wish he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole; keep you tucked between his ribs, where you'll be warm and safe.

(he brushes the thought away.)

for a moment, he’s entirely still. then his pinkie twitches, beckoning him to you. there it goes, again — that invisible string. he takes a step forward, crouching down to meet you at eye level. 

”… sorry,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. the word feels foreign on his tongue, but he swallows the discomfort. ”i’ll hurry. you have my word.”

you blink.

then you’re smiling, again. flipping to your side, sluggishly, just to face him fully. ”’kay.” you reach out for his hand. ”don’t complain if i’m knocked out when you get back, though.”

he looks at your intertwined fingers, brushing his thumb across your skin, a hum buzzing in his throat. affectionate, despite his teasing. ”i wont have to listen to your nightly tangents, then.”

”you love my nightly tangents!”

a snort pushes past his lips. ”sure,” he smirks, ever so slightly, snarky enough to make it sound like a lie. because he does love them. he loves hearing your voice turn delirious, all sleepy and dreamy with fatigue, loves your stupid questions and even stupider answers. he loves being kept awake on nights when he feels too stiff to sleep, when he knows he’s going to have that dream again; a dream of crumbling buildings and burning flesh, of moonlight on asphalt and blood underneath a young boy’s fingernails. a dream where he looks at you and feels nothing but apathy.

(far more grueling than any of the bloodshed.)

sukuna does love your nightly tangents. they chase those ghosts away, ground him back to a sweetened life, one that smells of cinnamon and sunlight and ripe fruit. but you don’t need to know that. so he doesn’t say it — he keeps it locked behind his teeth, under his tongue. 

he squeezes your palm. 

and then he’s rising to his feet. you follow him with your eyes, blinking drowsily, cheek smooshed against the soft mattress. he resists an uncharacteristic coo.

you muster up a sweetened grin, teeth shining like stars. ”g’night, honey. don’t stay up too late, okay?”

he hums. a silent i won’t. there are some things he won’t speak aloud, because he knows you’ll hear them anyway. ”pleasant sleep,” he murmurs, raising a hand up to card through his hair. blinking away the fatigue — until a soft bout of laughter spills from out your throat.

”pleasant sleep?” you echo, grin teetering on something mischievous, a sleepy snort pushing past your lips. ”what are you, a fucking vampire?”

sukuna blinks.

then he’s clicking his tongue, that familiar sound, and pushing your face into the fluffy pillow on your bed — muffling your little giggles. gentle, his large palm on the back of your head. affectionate. ”behave,” he tuts, but he’s grinning. your giggles don’t fade away, even when he’s turning on his heel and walking out of your bedroom. 

”sweet dreams, count dracula!” 

”you’re not getting any breakfast tomorrow.”

ignoring your muffled, distressed whine, sukuna hides a fond smile behind his palm. biting down on his bottom lip to keep it at bay — absently deciding what to make for your breakfast tomorrow. pancakes or waffles? maybe he’ll skip the vanilla ice cream, this time. just to teach you a lesson.

when he returns, forty minutes later, you’re fast asleep. curled up under the covers, drool slipping down your bottom lip. he tucks you into his neck, and mouths them into your ear — three little words, always those same little words, never quite spoken in more than a whisper, as if he fears his voice would break under their pressure. but his breath fans against the shell of your ear, and you absently nuzzle into your arms. as if you understand. that silent language between you.

he wonders if you realize, if you’ll ever realize, just how much you mean to him.

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you, but you know. you know, because it’s in everything he does.

you know that he loves you because he actually allows you into his kitchen, when anyone else would be chased out with a pitchfork. because he doesn’t push you away when you wrap your arms around his waist, over his cream-coloured apron, even though you know it distracts him while he’s cooking dinner — only ever clicking his tongue or making a noise of disapproval, placing a palm over your forearm. muttering little harmless grumbles of it’s like you want to get first degree oil burns.

you know that he loves you because you’re always the first to taste his food, without fail, the first person he goes to when he tries a new recipe. and you appreciate it, even when you joke about how honoured you are to test your king’s meals for poison. he quirks a brow and threatens to take the food away, sure, but then there’s always that one flicker of amusement in the amber of his eyes. 

you know because he grills his dumplings extra on both sides, just how you like it, because he forms his onigiri into pandas just to see you smile. because he knows how to make your perfect cup of coffee by heart, and refuses to use anything less than an absurdly expensive coffee machine, beans he grinded into powder with his own two hands. because he believes you deserve nothing but the best, nothing less than the finest delicacies this world has to offer. wholeheartedly.

you know that he loves you because it’s there. you can feel it, in every stolen glance, every slight smile when you finally dig in. in the way the cutlet melts on your tongue, the way the bitter espresso runs down your throat, the warmth that blossoms in your chest when you catch him watching you with the faintest glimmer of a content smile. 

a silent declaration, a hymn you can always hear if you strain your ears enough —

i love you, i love you, i love you.

[spicygrilledscorpio]

Cat got her tongue - LN

Summary: Y/n is in heat and is too shy to ask for Lando’s help. While her lovely boyfriend decided to be a tease.

Warnings: SMUT, horny!shy!reader, teaser!Lando, fingering (f!receiving), pet names, penetrative sex, unprotected (don’t do that), orgasm denial (i think that’s it lemme know if missed any)

Notes: My first fic hit 1k i’m so happy, thank you for you guys support. Also still English is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds weird. Hopes you guys enjoy 💗

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Y/n is probably the shyest person Lando ever met, and that’s also his favorite thing about her. However surprisingly, Y/n and Lando have a very high sex drive. Because of y/n’s shyness, she never says no to Lando, but he always makes sure she’s ok with it of course.

However, today was another case. They were chilling on the sofa in Lando’s apartment. Her boyfriend was sitting on the ground playing Fifa while she was lying on the sofa reading her new book. Everything was going alright, Y/n managed to focus and successfully finish 2 chapters until she reached the “spicy part” of the book.

“With a groan, he pushes into her while she gasps out loud, adjusting to his size…”

Y/n’s face starts burning as she squeezes her thighs together as she looks down at her boyfriend. As much as y/n wants to ask Lando, which she knows he will be willing to help her, she’s too shy. Normally, y/n never has to ask for an orgasm, she’s actually getting too much of it. Lando’s friends tease him saying that they’re like bunnies, always on top of each other. However, in this particular situation, she needs him. Y/n tries to shift her attention back to the book, but the words just fly through her head and she can’t help but imagine Lando on top of her. Y/n’s whole body was on fire and her face practically looked like a tomato and ready to explode at any given moment.

“Lan-” Y/n can’t help but call out for his help

“Hm?” Lando asks, eyes still glued to the screen

Y/n sat up and looked at him but didn’t reply

“What’s wrong baby?” Lando turns around to look at her red face

Y/n still doesn’t reply but looks at him with teary puppy eyes, hoping he’ll get it and help her out. Lando did indeed figure out what’s going on with his girlfriend but instead of helping her out, he decided to be a tease

“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me, hm?” He questions in a teasing tone, moving up to join her on the couch, face only inches away from hers. His hands were on her hip as he guided her to straddle him. Y/n had her arms wrapped around Lando’s shoulder as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, still struggling to get her words out because of her shyness and the overwhelming feeling of needing to be satisfied. Hip grinding down onto his crotch letting out some quiet whimpers.

“Use your words, princess,” Lando said in a stern voice, whispering in her ears.

“Need you” Y/n can’t help but let out a small whimper, given she’s almost half naked, only wearing panties and Lando’s sweater, sitting on her fully clothed boyfriend.

“At least use your manners, god,” Lando says mockingly. Watching her cute face getting flushed everytime she gets shy, Lando just can’t stop teasing his beloved girlfriend. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” She mumbled into his neck

“God, you’re so fucking cute” Lando chuckled. Their hands moved down to take off her panties. His fingers start going up and down her folds, collecting your wetness. “You’re soaked”

Y/n’s face gets even redder, looking like a chili at this point. She hates it when he says things like that, just because it makes her even more embarrassed than before, which is also why he loves dirty talk, he loves seeing her crumble for him. Lando’s fingers start rubbing her clit in a circular motion, drawing soft moans from her.

“I-I’m close” Y/n moans as Lando inserts two fingers inside of of her. Thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, he starts scissoring her, touching her G-spot in every thrust. But just when she was about to cum, he took his fingers out. She finally removed her face from his neck just to look at him in confusion.

“Not yet”

“I want you to ride me” Lando whispers in her ears, sending shivers down her spine. Y/n frowns and pouts looking at him, not happy from being denied her orgasm and being demanded to ride her boyfriend. Well, not that she had a problem with it, just that she is shy, and she’s pretty much a “pillow princess”, and Lando loves her since he prefers being on top anyways. However, since he’s in the mood for teasing her to her breaking point, Lando makes her ride him.

“That’s the only way you’re getting off, princess” Lando states looking at your pouting face, extremely unsatisfied with her boyfriend.

Y/n shuffles to unzip his pants and pull down his boxer, revealing his hard member, now leaking precum. She lowers herself slowly, having a hard time adjusting to his size. After taking in all of him, Y/n starts bouncing on his cock. She tries biting her lips to muffle her moans, throwing a tantrum since she’s still not happy from her orgasm denial earlier. However, her intentions fail miserably, as Lando's hands sneak down to stimulate her clit and she can’t help but let out a loud moan. His mouth covered her nipple and start sucking it, adding to the pleasure.

Y/n’s legs were shaking from the overstimulation and her speed slowed down. She can barely ride him at this point and just grinds on him, but it wasn’t enough. She knows she needs his help, but still finds it hard to speak up.

“All you have to is ask, bunny,” Lando said as he saw her slowing down

“Please,” Y/n says with tears welling in her eyes, on the brink of rolling down.

Lando holds her hips and starts moving her up and down on him, combined with his thrusts upward, he’s hitting all the right spots. The sounds of their skins slapping together with wet sounds of her arousal and his precum filling the room. Y/n’s pretty sure that their sofa is ruined for good but that’s not their focus right now.

“Lan I’m cumming” The overwhelming feeling took over her, pushing her to the edge.

“Cum for me princess”

Y/n squeezes her eyes shut as she’s about to cum “Eyes on me baby” Lando demands, always loving to see her face when she’s falling apart for him. Y/n keeps eye contact with him while she cums, just the way he likes it, and lets out a loud squeal, milking him as he spills inside her. Lando lays her down on the couch as he pulls out of her, parting her legs and staring at his cum leaking out of her hole. Lando takes his phone takes a picture and puts it in his hidden album.

“Do you have to stare?” Y/n asks, squeezing her thighs together to hide it.

Lando just chuckled and went to get a towel to clean her up.

“I love you so much, even though sometimes i think cat got your tongues, you’re so cute”

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)

Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥

Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.

Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!

Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.

Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:

You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?

Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife

yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)

The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile

Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day

Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild

You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration

You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter

Muzan worships you

Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin

Each kiss sealed into him

Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly

He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways

Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours

"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly

Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit

Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette

When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine

Upper Moons Reactions:

When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments

Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife

Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you

Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"

Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene

Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone

Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such

Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much

While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically

[lovemomhatepolice]

inCHident - charles leclerc

navigation taglist requests

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: drunk! reader and Kelly, English is my second language!

type: fluff (funny? i hope so)

word count: 1k

summary: there is nothing funnier than you and your good friend Kelly Piquet, with whom you imitate your partners after alcohol and their famous action of 11 years ago...

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist, max verstappen masterlist

“You know what?” You laughed, uncertainly walking down the stairs hand in hand with your boyfriend Charles.

“I'm listening to you, baby,” the man replied, holding you carefully by the elbow and waist.

Your head was spinning. The amount of alcohol on that day probably overcame you too much, or at least at that moment. Partying with Formula One drivers after races was something you loved. That atmosphere, that closeness of everyone together, the successful partying… well, and your beloved girls who proudly stood by their boyfriends as you did.

“You're a good boy,” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “Really, I've never had a better one in my life.”

Charles giggled under his breath, well aware of your condition. Ay, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you in it, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

“Well, in that case I'm glad,” he replied, helping you up the last flight of stairs at Max and Kelly's temporary lodging for this trip.

That's where the two of you held your after-party after a good partying at the club. You didn't often do this, as mostly everyone was already tired after the fun at the first place, but today quite a few of you still had a lot of energy in you and you definitely couldn't let it go.

“But really Charles.” you said, stopping in front of the stairs.

You were then standing in a place somewhat isolated from the room where all the rest who had come with you were sitting. They were not all drivers, on the contrary, you ended up with about ten people. The rest simply let go of further fun and either returned by plane to their homes or to their hotel rooms.

That's why hardly anyone could catch the fact that you managed the “bathroom” task, which earlier caused a lot of laughter. Leclerc just didn't want to let you go up the stairs alone, and heck knows - you could still fall down them in those heels.

“Really what?” he laughed, grabbing you by the waist the moment you threw your arms around his neck.

“You really are a good boyfriend. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have peed there, it was a must,” you whispered in his ear as if it were a secret, which brought a smile to his face.

“Mhm” he muttered, stroking your hips through the thin material of your dress.

You moved closer to him and kissed him lightly, grinning into his mouth at the same time. However, you were soon interrupted by a shout from Kelly, who, unbeknownst to you, suddenly jumped out from around the corner.

“[Y.N] I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A LONG TIME!!!”.

You quickly turned around, abandoning your boyfriend's embrace, and threw yourself into the arms of the brunette, who stood behind you with her arms spread out. The hallway was filled with your squeals.

“Kelly, how I love you! You are so beautiful today, what am I saying? You are beautiful every day,” you replied, giggling.

You and the girl moved towards the living room and sat close to each other on the couch. Charles moved behind you, however, sat on the armchair next to you. He was well aware that he didn't even have a lift at that moment, when you continued to be giggling and in each other's embrace.

Everyone in the room was listening to some story by Lando, who was telling it with great passion, but you were in your own world. You whispered something in each other's ear, burst out laughing afterwards, paid each other compliments, and much more. It did not even cross your mind that Max was not in the room. You only found out when he entered the living room in a down jacket and looked at you and Kelly with a surprised look.

“Max, what happened?” asked Oscar, giggling under his breath at the sight of Verstappen.

Max shrugged off his jacket, depositing it on the couch behind you, making the brunette hiss from the touch of cold on her warm skin.

“I thought she went out...” the man began, but was not given the chance to finish, as he was interrupted by his girlfriend.

“NO, HE'S JUST UNFAIR,” she began to say loudly, grabbing your hand, which you quickly picked up on. You loved to laugh at your boyfriends. "I'm leading, he want to pass, he push me, I push him back and after he push me off the track. JUST NOT FAIR"

"Thank you, thank you Max" you replied, pretending to hold the microphone.

A volley of laughter went throughout the living room, and you could feel Lando's phone pulled out on you, which was most likely recording you, but you didn't pay much remark to it. So did Charles, who measured you with his eyes as intensely as Max did.

Kelly rose on the couch, catching in her hand the remote control that lay on the coffee table, and pressed it to her lips, sitting cross-legged. The girl tilted her head toward you and raised her eyebrows slightly, lending authenticity to the “interview.”

“Charles. What's happend with emm Max?" She asked and put the remote control to your lips, encouraging you to use it, like a real microphone.

You looked at Max, who was standing behind his girlfriend with a disbelieving face, and burst out laughing, but quickly stepped into your role again and put on a serious face. Just like fifteen-year-old Charles, giving an interview at the time.

"Nothing, just an inCHident... on the race" You replied, shaking your head in a familiar way.

“I think I just cried,” replied Lando, choking back his own laughter and wiping away the tears that really did trickle from his eyes.

Everyone in the living room laughed, including you and Kelly. Well, okay, maybe not everyone. Max and Charles looked at each other in disbelief, time and again shifting their gaze to you.

“I can't believe it's been twelve years and people continue to remind us of this,” muttered Charles, trying to break through the loud laughter and applause in the room.

All he got in response was a pat on the shoulder from Max, who took the seat next to him, and they both looked at the rest of their friends, wondering where in their lives they had gone wrong that they had chosen such people...

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

I hope it brought at least a slight smile to your face. AND what more can I say? happy (but belated) inCHIdent anniversary!

[gothy-froggy]

Astarion Headcanons

Fluff dating headcanons

This man deserves it. Astarion x Gn! Reader

(Bg3 Astarion spoilers?) + not proofread

As we know that Astarion is not used to this kind of treatment or care. For 200 years he used his body to lure people for his master. And was treated poorly on top of that. This is something he isn’t used to.

Small physical touch

A simple squeeze of the arm, putting a hand over his, Astarion craves for it.

They’re so simple, yet, holds so much meaning.

Such pure and innocent intentions behind them. Intimate, not sexually. Just so much emotion and such a strong connection from a simple touch.

He likes it.

Even a simple, quick or a lingering kiss is just so nice. Astarion has kissed, slept, and held many, but not like this. It’s quite exciting.

The feeling of his beloved’s finger softly running through his hair got a sigh of content out of Astarion. His eyes fluttered closed. The way the their fingers goes through his curls, barely scratching his scalp. It was peaceful.

This was peaceful.

“Star.” They whispered. Astarion opened his eyes. He sat up from laying on their lap, facing his partner. A shaky breath aired out as his eyes shut as they placed their hands on his cheeks, brushing along his jawline. No words were exchanged. None had to.

Their feelings, thoughts, and love for each other were so loud despite not one opened one’s mouth.

No words could describe how much they cared for another.

Astarion grew to return such acts with the intention and his feelings being present. It was difficult at first. It was…odd for him. It was either awkward in his mind, or the spiral to disgust and the feeling of tainted leaking through the cracks of his heart and mind, perhaps his soul at well.

But the reassurance from his lover always pulled him back.

Nicknames

The nickname given to him? Star. It was definitely a shock to him hearing that as his nickname. He can’t help but be a little flustered.

He loves it. Astarion would live for it. Astarion loved it even more once he figured out the reason why his lover calls him Star.

Of course, he calls his dear, love, treasure, other sweet pet names, but the one his love gave him doesn’t seem to be defeated.

The night was chilling as the stars twinkled, dancing in the moonlight. Astarion sat on a big rock with his lover. Their gaze focused on the balls of light in the dark sky. Astarion’s was locked onto them.

“Do tell, my dear. Why ‘Star’ as my nickname?” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Their eyes meets his, a small, gentle smile appearing on their face.

“Your name has star in it. A-s-t-a-r-i-o-n. Stars twinkle, they’re beautiful , like you.” Astarion let out a huff. Perhaps a small scoff.

“Well, I am beautiful.” A charming smile plastered over his face. His lover laughed, placing a hand over his as they leaned forward.

“You’re my star.” They whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Astarion paused, processing their words and the simple touches.

“You really are full of surprises.” Astarion whispered.

‘Their Star.’ He thought. It brought swirls of warmth inside his chest

Astarion’s love for the pet name Star becomes addictive. He gets slightly annoyed and disappointed when his partner doesn’t call him Star.

Hell, his treasure could even make him beg to be called Star if they wanted to.

It honestly irritates him how much he enjoys the silly little pet name. They really don’t hold much value or worth anything…or is that him and enslavement to Casador for centuries?

Nether the less, his love is here to show him what real is. What true love really is.

Perhaps the pet name is a spark of light for him.

His comfort (lover’s scent and warmth)

Nothing is more precious than holding someone with such passion. True passion.

Astarion struggled most on this. Surprising as it is, but the comfort involves holding someone. Being so close to their body with trust, letting your guard down,

But getting comfortable with having comfort is the most troublesome.

The fear of it being taken away becomes dread.

His nightmares are over, but they still plague his mind, making it hard to break through and open up. After a while, he did. He regrets not being able to break through before.

Whether it was a nightmare, or the utter crave of affection and his comfort, he always gets it. Astarion creeps into the tent, sliding an arm under his love’s, wrapped around their waist and pulling them close.

He presses his face into their neck, taking a slow and small sniff. Just smelling their scent, not just their blood, brought so much warmth and comfort. The warmth, the feeling of their body made all his stress move away. Astarion smiled to himself, pressing a lingering kiss on his lover’s shoulder, before whispering:

“Wherever you go, wherever you are..” Astarion paused, hesitant to continue as the fear and feeling of disgust creeps back in. Trying to pull him back to what he knows. Yet he fights it. The arm around their waist caused a small squeeze as he took a shaky breath before continuing.

“Is forever my home.” He whispered, forcing them out and choking over his words out.

“You are my true home.”

Maybe, just maybe, the fight for something new is worth it.