#no one forces u to read that fanfic

[yappinggggg]

I feel like there are only like a handful of ships in the intkot fandom

At least on Ao3

[insertsickusername13]

haven't reread this or edited it. idc. it's cute. enjoy.

word count: 3k

warnings: child abuse (rich's whole situation with his dad---it's not bad, and it's only mentioned in one paragraph, but it's there enough that it's worth mentioning)

Jake was standing in the center of the crowded hallway leaning heavily on his cane. Freshmen and seniors alike twisted and stumbled out of the way as they rushed down to lunch. His feet were shoulder width apart and his chin held high, much like a rock in the center of a rushing river.

Rich was hyper-aware of Jake from the second he slipped out of pre-calc, his attention (much like everyone else’s) immediately drawn to him. Tall. Confident. He stood like he belonged to the extent those who had to dodge out of his way were convinced they were the ones in the wrong, not him.

“And they say Christine’s dramatic,” Rich greeted. He sidestepped out of the current of students into the safety of Jake’s shadow. Jake’s gaze flickered from somewhere in the distance down to Rich and immediately his expression morphed from one of deep concentration to rosy excitement. Then, as if realizing himself, Jake pressed his lips together and snuffed out his happiness like a flame (not the first fire Jake had put out, both metaphorically and literally).

“We need to talk,” he said simply, tone barren and controlled. Rich masked the instinctive panic that promptly flooded the room at those words behind an amused quirked eyebrow.

“Intense opening line,” he commented, “8/10. Delivery could’ve been better.”

Jake’s purposeful intensity faltered just long enough for him to duck his head to hide his summertime smile. Rich, despite already sorting through all the worst-case scenarios—death, hatred, squips and secrets—did a small, mental fist pump. Having the newfound freedom to think his own thoughts without anyone there to criticize him besides his own subconscious meant spending an increasing amount of time dedicating himself to seeing Jake smile, watching him laugh, and feeling no shame at the way life seemed to return to every previously colorless corner of the room, the way his heart so hard he was convinced it was a destructive force rather than a romantic one.

“Shut up, I’m being serious.”

It’d been a minute, at least, and the halls were slowly emptying out of bystanders. Rich shifted back slightly, now free to be farther away from Jake without being trampled. Self-preservation kept him from creeping closer even as he shivered at the cold that slithered into the room at Jake’s distance.

Rich tried to keep his voice from trembling as he got out, “Okay, then. Talk to me.”

Jake shook his head and Rich frowned.

Rich felt dread, yes. Though it couldn’t have been past noon, a bluish-black dusk almost the same color as a bruise was swimming in his vision and dragging its sharp nails over every inch of exposed skin. Rich was restless in his desperation to get as far from this conversation as possible, a feeling so overwhelming he had to consciously talk himself down from an anxiety attack.

But where Rich’s anxiety manifested itself in his fidgeting fingers and tapping foot—something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, even a relatively calm Rich was a jittery Rich—Jake looked like he’d just watched tragedy strike an entire nation.

“Not here,” he muttered, so quiet Rich was convinced he didn’t want him to hear. “…Library? Or—”

“Library works,” Rich smiled, “We can watch horny freshmen make out in the back while we… break up? Platonically? I don’t know what you’re planning on.”

Jake didn’t seem to find Rich’s facetiousness amusing. He looked down at his shoes, seemingly deeply entertained by the intricacies of his poorly tied laces.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his voice taking on a customer-service tone he adopted when he knew his natural voice would be on the verge of breaking. Rich couldn’t even find it in him to summon another shitty joke.

Jake led Rich to the library briskly, ignoring the cafeteria completely while Rich cast a longing glance back at his lunch table, where all his friends were laughing without a care in the world.

Jake was facing straight ahead and a step ahead of Rich—his face was out of view, but Rich could hear the faint sound of him reciting a speech to himself, rehearsing whatever he was going to say to Rich in a moment. Rich strained to hear every—any—word, but all he got were empty shells of sorry and we can fix it.

“Okay,” Jake said as he pulled out Rich’s chair and sat across from him, his cane leaning against the table. They were sat in the back of the library by a window. Jake dropped his backpack on the ground next to him and unzipped it, pulling out a binder Rich had never seen before. Strange, considering Rich had sat through every pre-test, stress-induced haze while Jake paced the living room, reciting definitions from flashcards and making Rich read aloud passages from binders that only slightly resembled the one on the table between them.

Rich let out a tiny sigh of relief that he hoped wasn’t noticeable. So it was just a test or presentation—something important enough to Jake’s final grade that he was freaking out enough that he’d totally missed the mini-mental breakdown he’d caused Rich.

Jake took a deep breath. Rich leaned back, prepared and patient to listen as Jake first apologized for bothering him, then made Rich quickly skim the source material before quizzing him on every possible question or logic fallacy that would most surely never show up on a test intended for high schoolers. Rich wasn’t bothered when Jake’s expression changed from nervous to one of pure determination and cynical analysis—he was well accustomed to this version of Jake, one who compartmentalized until all the dark and scary feelings were just files to be sorted rather than genuine emotions to be processed. He’d get through it eventually, but only after he’d solved whatever problem he was facing.

“Physics?” Rich guessed. Jake looked up from his papers, barely aware of what Rich had said, his focus completely and utterly on the task at hand.

“What?”

“Physics? Is that what we’re studying?”

Another moment of awkward silence before Jake finally seemed to understand.

“Oh,” he said, “No. No, worse. Here.”

He passed Rich a paper—a timeline, starting December 3rd. Rich didn’t get the chance to read a single word before Jake shoved another paper into his hand, this one a calendar for this month—April. Then a list. A picture. A color-coded set of notes. A survey? Rich scrambled to organize himself as Jake shoved yet another paper into his hand, this one a printed-out, annotated article from one sketchy health website or another.

“Do you want a chance to review the material before I start, or can I just jump right in?”

Rich looked up helplessly from the April calendar and squeaked, “Huh?”

Jake studied him for a moment, gaze a stormy mix of expectancy and determination. Then, having come to a conclusion Rich wasn’t privy to, he said, “We’re going to start on page one.”

Rich blinked at him.

“Timeline,” Jake clarified, “The first paper I handed to you.”

Rich struggled through the pile of papers until he pulled the timeline out. He displayed it to Jake proudly only to be met with a nervous smile that quickly faded into a grimace.

“Alright,” Jake said, his voice quivering in a similar fashion to a guitar string—musically, beautifully. He clenched his paper to the point it crinkled. “As you can see, it starts December 3rd, the day I first visited you in the hospital, and ends yesterday.”

Rich’s eyes flit from the beginning to the end of the timeline to confirm Jake’s words. He nodded, unsure as to why Jake’s tidbit about the hospital was necessary.

“So upon first contact post-fire, we ignored the topic of the fire and simply discussed the play and Jeremy, correct?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. And you didn’t apologize until the 8th, the next date marked on the timeline.”

Rich found the 8th, labeled ‘THE APOLOGY’ in all caps. Rich searched the words for a hidden meaning, praying it’d also be the birthday of some American president or treaty signing.

“I was, at first, resistant, but by the 11th I had come to forgive you. I visited again and we discussed possible steps forward.”

Unsurprisingly, the 11th was the next marked date. Rich swallowed a confused sob.

“Yeah, I know,” Rich said, the words tumbling out of his throat like his body was trying to purge him of a poison, “What the fuck?”

Jake continued without so much as looking up.

“On the 20th, you were released from the hospital. You, your brother, and I all spent Christmas at my apartment—purchased before the timeline began—over the 25th and into the 26th. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes. Still kind of dark times, though, so if we could skip to—”

“You moved in on January 5th.”

Rich’s memory of that day lived serenely in the back of his mind to be summoned with perfect clarity whenever he felt unworthy or scared. It had been impulsive and dangerous—Rich had called Jake in the middle of the night, bruised and scared and exhausted. He’d come home from a six-hour shift on the verge of collapse, his burns itching and screaming, the lingering memory of the squip spouting deprecations at the way he winced with every step. He was unlucky enough to find his father still conscious in the living room, anger emanating off of him in waves of violence that manifested in thrown dishes and kicked over trashcans because where the fuck have you been?! You think you have any right to parade around with your rich friends while your family is stuck here?! You should’ve been—

The list was long. You should’ve been cleaning the dishes, making dinner, doing the laundry. He made it worse by crying.

He stayed kneeling in the kitchen long after his father passed out on the couch and, with shaking hands, because he didn’t want to cry anymore—he really, really didn’t want to cry—he called Jake.

Jake offered every cliche affirmation and more. You’re enough, you’re more than enough, I love you, you deserve better, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

All the while, Jake was texting Michael. He still had his casts on—he couldn’t drive, and Michael told Rich later that he’d never seen someone manage to sound so panicked over text.

Less than twenty minutes later, Michael had snuck in the window. He cleaned the broken dishes, set the trashcan upright, and picked Rich up off the floor and dragged him kicking and screaming out of his father’s house.

“No, no, no, I can’t leave, he needs me, he needs me—”

Upon collapsing into Jake’s arms ten minutes later, Rich realized he needed to be loved a lot more than his dad needed him. He didn't go back.

“Yeah,” Rich breathed, “I remember.”

“January 15th: The first incident happens.”

“Incident?” Rich asked blankly, his mind still replaying the car ride from his father’s to Jake’s house.

“Yes. Any urges to kiss you or—or more, will be referred to using the term ‘incident,’ whereas more innocent urges—possibly wanting to go out on a date, or hold your hand, things along those lines—will be referred to using ‘episodes.’”

“Mhm,” Rich confirmed mindlessly. Jake’s words drifted up and around him much water falling off his face and body rather than sinking into his skin. It took Jake’s heavy gaze—staring expectantly, his lips parted, forming questions Rich couldn’t hear.

Wait. What?

“Go back,” Rich rushed out, back straightening. Hope hadn’t sunk in yet—he wasn’t quite there. Only confusion. “What the hell?”

Jake nodded once. He’d been expecting this reaction.

“Beginning January 7th, I developed a crush on you.”

Instead of turning to Jake, Rich turned to the papers for confirmation. He scoured the timeline for the words crush or love. All he got were incident #4 (#7, #9, #54, #78) and episode #7 (#15, #29, #156).

Shaky, he rushed to the next paper. A list of twenty entitled Modes for Moving On. The article from Healthline or Web MD: Psychologists Estimate Crushes become a True Love After Four Months.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered, his voice so simply scared Rich was convinced he must be hiding from a monster under the bed or the boogyman—a childish fear. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You—” Rich started. He distantly heard Jake make a strangled sound but was too lost in flashes of the past three and a half months. Jake, flinching away when Rich got too close—Rich blaming it on the fire. Jake going out with three different girls in a week with no sign of stopping until Brooke slapped him and told him to stop playing with people’s feelings. The way he’d listened to Brooke but had been staring at Rich the whole time, his shoulders hunched over as he tried to curl in on himself.

“I… I don’t understand,” Rich whispered, though of course, by now, understanding was settling in his spine and gripping his nervous system like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. Jake liked him. Jake liked him.

“I’m trying to fix it. That’s the point. The article—”

Jake was in such a blind rush to show Rich that he practically fell from his chair, kicking it back with a ferocity as he stood and winced, his legs unprepared for the sudden weight on them.

“Fuck—the article, four months, right? And—” he hastily re-situated his chair and stumbled over to Rich, his hands clumsily shuffling through the papers until he managed to shove the Healthline/Web MD article in Rich’s face.

“See! Four months! I’ve still got two weeks, right? I’m not in love with you. I’ve got—I’ve got a plan. I looked up a bunch of stuff on the internet on how to move on, and it all told me to like, avoid you and stuff, but I can’t do that, so instead I’m ‘loving myself’ and ‘working through lingering feelings’—just a bunch of weird self-care stuff, but I’m fucking desperate, I’ll—”

He straightened suddenly, struck with the realization he’d just been so close to the source of all his problems. His expression singed and pride marred, he backed up a step, posture erect and his faked smile tight. He shook out his hands and turned to the sky for a quick moment. When he finally spoke again, it was in the same presenter’s tone he’d been offering since the beginning. In control; calm. His acting was worse than it had been in the play. Rich could hear every bit of panic running under his tone.

“Following the ten-step plan outlined on page seven, these feelings should be resolved by the 13th, with two days of cushion time in case one or two steps are thwarted or interfered with. I thought it right to make you aware of, of my intentions. I do think it would be best if I—”

Rich did the only thing he could think of to stop Jake from talking. He threw the nearest highlighter at Jake’s face.

For a moment afterward, there was only silence. Jake’s eyes were crossed to try and see where he’d been hit, right below the nose, and Rich was so mortified by his own unfounded actions to even begin to apologize.

“…You could’ve just said you don’t feel the same,” Jake finally murmured. He looked like he was physically fighting melancholia from his face and trying to stuff it into one of his file cabinets. He failed, and he had to turn away so Rich couldn’t see. He appeared to be blinking back tears.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking dramatic.”

Jake pouted. Rich laughed delightedly and got up to take Jake’s hands in his own. Jake stayed staring at the floor.

“Next time, just tell me how you’re feeling, yeah? Would’ve saved a lot of trees.”

Jake sniffled.

“I like you," Rich grinned, "If you somehow missed that. For a lot more than four months, too.”

Finally, Jake looked at Rich, his expression open and hopeful, a smile comparable to everything springtime and flowery blooming on his face.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to stop himself any longer, Rich got up on his tippy toes, smiling softly, in an attempt to kiss Jake for the first time. His crush liked him back—

Jake jerked away, eyes wide and mortified.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, that was so fucking embarrassing. Oh my god. I literally told you when I fell in love with you. Oh my god. We’re not even dating.”

Rich tried to suppress his smile—just for Jake’s dignity—but a small laugh escaped him before he could stop himself. Jake’s face went from a rosy red to the color of wine. Rich wanted to kiss it off him.

“No, stop it," Jake said, "don’t say anything. This didn’t happen. Oh my god. Get out! Now!”

“What?” Rich said, his amusement so complete in essence he was sure Jake could feel it like a slap across the face, “Why?”

“Because!!!” Jake screeched, “I need to destroy all the evidence! Then I’m just going to ask you out like a normal person, Jesus fuck. No. I’m just going to ask Chloe to kill me. She’ll be glad to. Goodbye.”

Jake spun back to the table and, without organizing them in the slightest (something so un-Jake-like Rich seriously considered the possibility that this whole thing had been orchestrated by a clone), shoved the papers back into his backpack, uncaring that half of them were ripped or crinkled. When he turned back to Rich, it was like nothing had ever happened. He looked like he had that morning: happy in a Jake way. Almost like a golden retriever, ready to do whatever necessary to make the people around him smile. In control. Suave and nonchalant; a flirt.

Jake conjured a look of confusion onto his face.

“Dude, what the fuck, you didn’t tell me you were French.”

“What?! Dude—” Rich giggled into his hand, so delighted by the entire affair he couldn’t even really be confused by Jake’s sudden assumption that Rich was French, of all things, “—I’m not fucking French.”

“Really?” He squinted at Rich, “Because I could’ve sworn Eiffel for you.”

He flashed Rich a grin and a peace sign before swooping down like he was going to kiss Rich. He stopped last second, less than an inch away, and carefully cupped Rich’s jaw. Rich watched as the confident exterior Jake had managed to summon last second slipped into a pure, childish excitement. His breath caught for a moment, so utterly elated at the idea that he was this close to kissing Rich—

Rich tried to close the gap. Jake’s fingers dug into Rich’s jaw, something that could’ve quite possibly been considered violent had it come from anyone else, but Jake seemed so set on making sure Rich wasn’t hurt that the show of strength came off as affectionate rather than scary. Rich frowned.

“When you tell people how we got together,” Jake seethed. Though his humor had darkened into a bad boy character that suspiciously resembled the love interest of a romance movie he and Jake had watched together a week ago, it was offset by the fact Rich had seen the utter awe on his face a moment earlier. “You tell them about this, yeah? That—” with his free hand, he motioned vaguely to the table behind them. “—that never happened. I fed you a nice pickup line and you liked it. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Rich said, his voice so quiet and seductive Jake was forced to pull away before he did something he’d regret.

Then, the second they arrived at their lunch table, “Jenna motherfucking Rolan, you will not believe what just happened—”

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[orcelito]

There are more trigun fanfics than there were back in April

This is creating a problem for me

[creamflix]

PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 3]

summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.

content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, mentions of depression and alcoholism, love-triangle, angst, slow-burn, eventual smut, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto, choso kamo, uraume, yuuji itadori) - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman!choso fanfic

word count: 10.7k words

notes: who are y'all rooting for !! this is by far one of my fav chapters to write, i <3 softkuna. thank u all for the love so far!

masterlist

sukuna glared at the invitation yuuji had shoved in his face, barely glancing at the cheerful font before tossing it onto his desk. "join us with your family to ring in the new year!" it read, the kind of saccharine bullshit that made his skin crawl.

"nii-chan, look! it specifically says your family, so we can call choso too, right?" yuuji’s excitement was palpable, but sukuna just rolled his eyes.

“your brother is too busy slogging his ass off at that shitty desk job of his to come for this party.” he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if to physically ward off the impending festive spirit.

“liar! even salarymen get holidays, you know?” yuuji countered, undeterred by sukuna's dismissive tone.

sukuna let out a low growl of frustration. he was seriously considering skipping out on this stupid event. the idea of seeing you again — especially after that christmas party disaster — made his stomach twist uncomfortably. he didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness, the way the sounds of your discomfort felt like daggers in his chest after he stormed off that night. he could just pop in, pay his dues, and leave, right? simple.

"oh, can we bring uraume too, nii-chan!?" yuuji piped up, his enthusiasm infectious, and sukuna felt a reluctant tug at the corners of his mouth. he didn't want to admit how much he appreciated their company, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

“fine. but stop messing up my office, dammit!” he snapped, irritation bubbling up, but he knew deep down it was more about masking his own unease than anything. why did he even care? why was he letting this stupid event get to him? as the thought crossed his mind, sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he was going to have to confront the lingering tension between you and him eventually.

“did i dress up too much?” choso asked, adjusting his collar nervously as he glanced at his reflection in the car window.

“nah, choso, you look great!” yuuji replied, giving his brother an encouraging thumbs-up.

“you look like an overstuffed turkey,” sukuna deadpanned, barely suppressing a smirk as he leaned back in his seat.

choso shot sukuna an annoyed glare, but yuuji just chuckled. “you should be more supportive, nii-chan. it’s new year’s! everyone’s dressing up.”

“supportive? this is a party, not a damn fashion show,” sukuna retorted, rolling his eyes as he scanned the road ahead.

“oh, come on! let him shine a little,” yuuji said, nudging choso with his elbow. “it’s about time you showed off those muscles!”

“what muscles?” sukuna muttered under his breath, then added louder, “if he’s gonna strut around like a peacock, i’m gonna need to see some actual muscles.”

“you’re just jealous because you can’t pull off this look,” choso shot back, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

“jealous? please,” sukuna scoffed, though the truth was he couldn’t remember the last time he’d dressed up for anything. “i’d rather wear a potato sack than look like a wannabe model.”

the banter continued as they pulled up to your sprawling penthouse. sukuna’s eyebrows raised at the sight, unimpressed, yet unable to hide the flicker of intrigue. “showoff,” he muttered, his usual demeanor creeping back in.

yuuji and choso, on the other hand, were practically gaping. the fairylights adorned every single tree lining the pavement, twinkling like stars against the night sky, and the house itself radiated warmth and welcome despite its massive size.

“wow, look at all the lights!” yuuji exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. “it’s like a winter wonderland!”

“it’s too much,” sukuna grumbled, though he couldn’t deny the inviting atmosphere. it made something twist uncomfortably in his chest — a comfort he usually only felt around his brothers. eugh, what was he even thinking? he shook his head, trying to dispel the odd warmth that threatened to settle within him.

“you’re just grumpy because you didn’t bring a date,” choso teased, and sukuna glared at him.

“shut up,” he barked, even as yuuji laughed beside him.

“this is going to be fun! let’s go!” yuuji said, throwing open the car door and stepping out. choso followed suit, glancing back at sukuna, who was still seated in his seat, arms crossed.

“you coming or what?” yuuji called, bouncing on his heels, a wide grin plastered across his face.

sukuna rolled his eyes but finally pushed himself out of the car, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “fine. but if anyone asks, i’nm here for the free booze.”

“now that’s the spirit!” yuuji laughed as they made their way toward your house, the laughter and banter of the brothers echoing into the night.

yuuji burst through the door, practically bouncing off the walls as he called out your name like a lost puppy on a mission. you turned at the sound, a grin spreading across your face as you spotted him weaving through the crowd. “hey, champ! glad you could make it!” you laughed as he rushed over, pulling you into one of his characteristic hugs. wow, he was definitely growing taller than you at this rate.

“sorry, too weird?” he asked sheepishly, stepping back but keeping his hands on your shoulders, eyes wide with that usual enthusiasm.

“nah, kid, you’re good,” you replied, your smile warm and reassuring, just as the moment was punctuated by the approach of choso, who stepped up to join you both.

“and you are —” you started, but choso interrupted.

“choso. choso kamo, i’m —”

“yuuji’s brother, yes. i’ve heard many things about you,” you said with a smile that lit up your features. it was contagious, and choso couldn’t help but mirror it, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“yea? all good things, i hope…” choso replied, sounding a bit shy but pleased by your recognition.

“only the best,” you assured him, your voice warm and inviting. “yuuji here is like a little sunshine; i can only imagine where he gets it from.”

“ah, that’s definitely him,” choso laughed, relaxing in your presence.

as sukuna watched from a distance, his pace slowed, an odd sensation swirling in his chest. he felt like an outsider, observing something he wasn’t sure he should be a part of. his brothers — fucking choso of all people — were laughing and joking with you, and seeing their smiles brightened by your presence stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite articulate.

was it envy? concern? or maybe something more complicated? he’d always been the one to shoulder the weight of responsibility, to keep his brothers grounded. but now, here they were, so easily comfortable with you, and he felt that weird feeling settle deeper in his gut.

“you’re really good with them,” he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms as he continued to observe. he didn’t want to admit how nice it was to see choso and yuuji at ease, their laughter ringing out in the crowded room. it made something ache inside him, a longing for connection he rarely let himself indulge in.

sukuna’s gaze flickered between you and his brothers, his heart tightening at the sight of the warmth you brought into their lives. he hated how much he wanted to step closer, to be part of that moment, yet he stayed rooted to his spot, silently watching over the happiness that somehow felt fleeting.

suguru approached the three of you with a casual wave, a smirk dancing on his lips as he motioned for you to take care of “pinkie pie over there.” sukuna stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the interaction with a sulky expression that resembled a lost puppy. you rolled your eyes, a smile creeping onto your face at the sight of sukuna’s irritation.

“come on, let’s give you lads a look around,” suguru said, guiding the brothers away with a friendly pat on choso’s shoulder. “y/n, you got this!”

as they walked off, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. sukuna was still standing there, eyes flickering toward you, and it made your heart race in a way that was entirely unexpected. 

sukuna leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he tried to ignore the growing tension inside him. he had been fine, standing there by himself, watching yuuji and choso blend into the crowd. but then you had to walk up to him and now his entire focus had shifted to the way you moved through the room.

he cursed under his breath, catching himself in the act of staring. what the hell was wrong with him? you looked… good. too good. but he wasn’t supposed to care about that, right? this was just business, just another event to make an appearance. yet here he was, feeling like a damn teenager, suddenly hyper-aware of your every step.

“you look like you’re enjoying the party about as much as i am,” you said, stopping in front of him, a casual smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah, well, these things aren’t really my scene,” sukuna replied, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, but the way his voice came out a little rougher than usual betrayed him. “too many people.”

“you and me both,” you chuckled lightly, leaning slightly closer. “but it’s your brother’s first time at one of these, so… worth it?”

he glanced over at yuuji, who was grinning like an idiot while choso awkwardly nodded along to whatever suguru was saying. sukuna huffed, feeling a mix of exasperation and something else — pride? — bubbling up. “tch, guess it’s worth it if they’re having a good time.”

you smiled, a real one this time, not just the polite one you’d been wearing most of the evening. “you care more than you let on, don’t you?”

his jaw clenched at that, a sharp retort forming in his head, but it never made it out. instead, he found himself caught between wanting to shrug it off and actually admitting that, yeah, maybe he did care about his brothers more than he’d ever say out loud. not that he’d ever admit it to you, of all people.

“don’t get the wrong idea,” sukuna muttered, looking away from you and back at the crowd. “i’m just making sure they don't do anything stupid.”

“right,” you said, but the teasing lilt in your voice told him you weren’t buying his half-hearted excuse.

there was a beat of silence between the two of you, the sounds of the party fading into the background. sukuna’s mind was racing, torn between his usual self-assuredness and this uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling that crept up whenever you were too close. it was irritating as hell, but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to play the tough guy all the time.”

sukuna scoffed, but there was no real venom behind it. “and you don’t have to pretend like you know me, woman.”

you shrugged, unfazed. “i don’t have to. i just see more than you think.”

those words hit harder than he’d like to admit, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure if he hated or appreciated the fact that you always managed to get under his skin. either way, he couldn’t shake off the strange warmth that lingered as you stood there, as if you saw something in him that no one else ever bothered to look for.

damn it, he needed to get a grip.

you approached sukuna again later in the evening, holding two glasses in hand. without a word, you offered him one, and he raised an eyebrow.

“what’s this?” he asked, his gaze flicking between the glass and your face.

“ryomen,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “thought it’d be fitting for the host of the year’s most successful wine to have a taste.”

he took the glass from you, swirling the liquid inside with a thoughtful look. “serving my shit at your own party? i’m flattered.”

“thought i’d give it another shot,” you replied, a hint of teasing in your voice.

sukuna raised the glass to his lips, taking a long sip before pulling it away, his expression unreadable. after a moment, he smirked, that familiar edge of cockiness settling back in. “still tastes like it did when i first made it,” he remarked, his eyes flickering with something almost nostalgic.

“oh yeah?” you prompted, leaning in just enough to show your interest.

“yeah,” he grunted, leaning back a bit. “when i made it for the first time, i didn’t know shit about winemaking. but i figured, hell, people want to get drunk and have a good time, and wine’s as good as any poison, right? so i made it work. took a few tries, but once i got the formula down, it was easy to see the market. people would pay anything for something that makes them feel good for a few hours.”

he paused, his gaze sharp as he turned to look at you directly. “it was a no-brainer to get into the alcohol business. easy target. high demand. good profit margins. all it takes is a bottle or two and people are hooked. but,” sukuna’s smirk widened into something more challenging, “i gotta wonder — did you get into the wine business because of me?”

your breath caught at the question. sukuna’s eyes were locked on yours, almost daring you to respond. your fingers tightened around your glass as you tried to come up with a response. did you? the truth wasn’t simple. you had your reasons, but did sukuna really influence your decision to enter this world?

“what?” he prompted, leaning in slightly. “cat got your tongue? don’t tell me you’re scared to admit it, woman.”

before you could decide whether or not to tell him, your mother’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “y/n,” she called, approaching with a stiff, formal expression on her face. “i see you’re keeping… interesting company tonight.”

your entire body stiffened as she neared, and sukuna, ever the perceptive one, noticed the change in your posture. he turned slightly, eyeing your mother with a lazy grin, but there was a sharpness behind it.

“ah, just in time,” sukuna drawled, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “your daughter was just about to explain the story behind persephone. i’m curious, myself.”

your mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, her tone clipped. “there’s no need to involve yourself in family matters, mr. ryomen.”

but sukuna, ever the provocateur, wasn’t having it. “family matters, huh? sounds serious.” he looked back at you, that smirk still playing on his lips. “come on, tell me. i’m dying to know. what’s the real story behind persephone? why’d you start the business?”

your mother’s face paled, and you felt your stomach twist. this wasn’t how you wanted this to go, not here, not in front of sukuna, of all people. but your mother’s presence, her cold, expectant gaze, left you little room to maneuver. and sukuna? he was watching you like a hawk, waiting to see how you’d handle the situation.

you opened your mouth, but before you could speak, your mother’s voice came out, low and cutting. “she didn’t want anything to do with alcohol after… after what happened.”

your heart dropped, and you shot her a look, silently begging her to stop. but it was too late. she continued, her voice tight with barely concealed frustration. “y/n struggled for years — depression, alcoholism. it nearly destroyed her. the only reason persephone even exists is because she decided to take control and make something positive out of it. but this partnership?” her eyes flicked to sukuna with a glare, “this is the last thing she needs.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sukuna’s expression shifted, the cocky grin fading as he looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. the weight of the secret was out now, laid bare for him to see.

“so,” sukuna finally said, his voice quieter than before, though no less sharp. “that’s what this is, huh? your way of turning things around?”

you swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze as the truth hung between the three of you like a heavy cloud.

“she’s worked hard to get where she is,” your mother added, her voice colder than ever. “i don’t want to see her dragged back into old habits.”

sukuna’s jaw clenched, and for the first time tonight, he didn’t have a quick, cutting response. instead, he just looked at you — really looked at you — and for a brief moment, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, impressed, or something else entirely.

the silence stretched on, thick with unspoken words, until sukuna finally spoke, his voice rough but lacking its usual edge. “guess that explains a lot.”

sukuna stormed away from the scene, his footsteps heavy as he made his way through the crowded penthouse, ignoring the curious glances thrown his way. he couldn’t shake the twisted knot of emotions that was curling up tighter in his chest. anger, confusion, frustration — all of it swirling in a chaotic mess inside his head.

it all clicked as he pushed open the glass door to one of your balconies, stepping out into the cool night air. the city lights spread out below him, the noise of the party muffled now that he was outside. the space was quiet, peaceful even, but sukuna was anything but.

he gripped the railing, his fingers clenching hard around the cold metal as his thoughts raced. “fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, the realization hitting him harder than he wanted to admit.

you puked at the christmas party because of his wine — because you drank ryomen.

it made sense now. the way you’d looked, the panic in your eyes when you’d tasted it, the way you tried to hold it together before you ran out. he’d been so wrapped up in his own damn ego, so sure that you were just putting on some kind of show, that he hadn’t even considered why. but now? now it was obvious.

you had a history with alcohol. a bad one.

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound rough in the still night air. “should’ve fucking known,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if that would help clear the mess in his head. he replayed the conversation with your mother, her sharp words cutting through him like knives. she hadn’t pulled any punches. the way she spoke about your past — your struggles — it all made sense now.

he leaned forward, elbows resting on the balcony railing as he stared out at the city. why the hell hadn’t you said anything? why hadn’t you told him you had a history like that? his mind was racing, trying to piece everything together. the christmas party, the way you had avoided drinking since then, how stiff and tense you’d become every time the topic of alcohol came up. he hadn’t paid attention. he hadn’t wanted to pay attention.

“shit,” he muttered again, the weight of it all sinking in.

for once, sukuna didn’t feel like he had the upper hand. he didn’t feel like the one in control. and that pissed him off. not at you — no, he couldn’t pin this on you. this was on him. on how blind he’d been to the signs.

he gripped the railing harder, his jaw tightening as he tried to shake off the feeling that had settled deep in his gut. guilt, maybe? that’s what it felt like. the fact that he’d been so proud of the wine, so fucking smug about ryomen’s success, and the whole time, it had been a trigger for you. a reminder of the darkest part of your life.

what the hell was he supposed to do with that?

he scoffed, shaking his head. emotions like this weren’t his strong suit. he wasn’t built to deal with feelings — especially not this complicated mess. he was sukuna, the one who bulldozed through shit without looking back. but this... this was different.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, staring out into the distance, his thoughts still tangled.

the wine, your past, the way you had puked at the party, it all started to blur together in his mind. for the first time, he couldn’t just shove it aside. it stuck with him, gnawing at him in a way he didn’t like. he wasn’t used to caring, wasn’t used to giving a shit about anyone else’s problems. but somehow, without even trying, you’d managed to wedge yourself into his thoughts.

you found sukuna on the balcony, his broad back facing you as he stared out into the city. the night was still, a cool breeze brushing against your skin as you stepped forward, your footsteps soft against the stone. you didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.

he must have heard you, because without turning around, sukuna spoke, his voice low, rough. “didn’t realize i hurt you like this,” he said, his tone gruff, like he was trying to push the words out. “i’m sorry.”

his apology caught you off guard. sukuna didn’t do apologies. that much you knew. but here he was, standing on your balcony, admitting that he might’ve fucked up. your gaze softened as you took a step closer.

“you don’t need to apologize for my alcoholism,” you said, your voice steady but gentle. “and besides, this is just your way of saying your wine is good, isn’t it?”

that earned a slight turn of his head, and he glanced back at you, eyes narrowing in a mixture of amusement and something else — something harder to place. “oh yeah?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “that what this is?”

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “yeah.”

sukuna shifted, turning to face you fully now, his eyes locking onto yours. the tension between you two was there, thick in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was… something else. something unspoken.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you, his usual sharpness softening around the edges. then, with a strange sort of hesitation — one that didn’t fit the man you knew — he spoke again. “sukuna.” he paused, his gaze lingering on your face. “call me sukuna, not…ryomen. we’re business partners, no?”

you raised a brow, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “business partners?” you echoed, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him. “this about being professional all of a sudden?”

he let out a low scoff, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the railing, his expression guarded. “something like that,” he muttered, deflecting, his eyes flicking away for a brief second.

you could see it, though. that small crack in his usual armor. something vulnerable hiding behind his sharp words and the cocky attitude he wore like a shield. he wasn’t good at this — at being soft — and it showed in the way he deflected, the way he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes now.

“sukuna, huh?” you repeated, letting the name roll off your tongue. it felt strange, calling him that. intimate, almost. but not in a way that felt wrong. more like… like it made sense.

his eyes flicked back to you, a quick glance before he looked away again, jaw tightening. he wasn’t used to this — wasn’t used to you looking at him like that. like you could see past the rough edges, past the walls he always had up.

“don’t make a big deal outta it,” he muttered, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

you smiled, taking another step closer, until you were standing beside him. “i won’t,” you said softly, your gaze steady on him. “but, for what it’s worth… it’s nice seeing this side of you.”

he let out a sharp breath, rolling his eyes, though you noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight uncomfortably. “don’t get used to it,” he grumbled, clearly trying to shake off whatever soft moment this was turning into.

but you could see through it. through him. the way his fingers clenched slightly on the railing, the way his eyes darted back to you every few seconds. he was trying to put the walls back up, but you’d already seen what was behind them.

you leaned on the railing next to him, the cool metal pressing into your arms. “you can run away from it all you want,” you said, your tone lighter now, almost teasing. “but i think you care more than you’re willing to admit.”

he shot you a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “don’t push your luck.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head as you looked out at the view. “i won’t,” you said, echoing his earlier words. the silence between you two wasn’t awkward. if anything, it felt… comfortable. a kind of understanding lingering in the air.

sukuna, though, was struggling with it. the softness, the quiet, the way you were just there, not asking anything from him, not demanding anything. it was throwing him off, making him feel things he didn’t want to deal with.

“i’m not good at this,” he muttered suddenly, his voice low, like he wasn’t even sure he wanted you to hear it.

you glanced at him, surprised by the admission. “what, standing on balconies?”

he huffed, a short laugh escaping him despite himself. “nah. this… whatever the hell this is.”

“you mean being human?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

he shot you a look, but it was softer now, less guarded. “something like that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, before adding under his breath, “pain in the ass.”

you grinned, looking out at the city again. “yeah, well, you’re not too bad at it. when you’re not being an ass.”

he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “don’t push it.”

the soft clinking of the balcony door sliding open interrupted the rare, quiet moment between you and sukuna. suguru stood at the threshold, arms crossed over his chest, a sharp smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the scene. you could see the glint of something… off in his eyes, but he kept it under wraps with that same calm, calculated demeanor.

“am i interrupting something?” suguru’s voice was low, mocking, his usual easy confidence underlined by something harder tonight.

you straightened up from where you were leaning on the railing, your posture stiffening a little. sukuna shot suguru a sideways glance, his expression unreadable but clearly unbothered by the tension that suguru's snark added to the air. you, on the other hand, could sense that suguru wasn’t exactly happy about walking in on you and sukuna having what could almost pass as a… normal conversation.

“nothing worth interrupting,” sukuna replied flatly, his voice steady, almost dismissive. his gaze lingered on suguru for just a beat longer, sharp and assessing.

suguru’s eyes flicked to you, holding your gaze for a second before his usual composure returned, though you could still feel that tightness beneath the surface. “right. well, it seems like your boy yuuji ‘stomach bug’ itadori has had a bit too much fun tonight,” suguru said, his tone drier now, almost amused. “choso’s in the bathroom with him. the kid’s fighting for his life in there after inhaling half the appetizers.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, exasperation slipping into your voice. yuuji’s appetite almost always did get him into trouble. you rubbed your temples, already feeling the stress of being a host stacking up.

sukuna’s eyes flicked to you, a brow raised. “kid can’t even handle a few snacks without keeling over?” he scoffed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“yeah, well, yuuji’s got the stomach of a vacuum, apparently,” suguru added, amusement flashing briefly in his dark eyes. but the tension between you and him lingered, unspoken.

“great,” you muttered, already feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “i’ll go check on him in a minute.”

sukuna was already moving, pushing off the railing and stepping toward the door. “i’ll grab something for the kid,” he grumbled, clearly not wanting to stick around any longer than necessary. “nearest pharmacy should have something for his dumb ass.”

you hesitated for a second before speaking up, feeling a bit of responsibility as the host. “i’ll come with you,” you offered, voice steady but casual. “you know, in case you get lost or something.”

sukuna shot you a look, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at his lips. “you think i need help finding a pharmacy?”

“just trying to be a good host, sukuna,” you replied, your tone light but pointed, echoing his earlier words.

“fine. whatever.” sukuna shrugged, starting to head toward the door before stopping, turning back to glance at you. 

“you have a merc?” he asked, almost incredulously.

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. “you don’t?” you shot back, raising a brow.

sukuna scoffed, shaking his head as if the mere idea was laughable. “nah, too flashy for my taste.”

“well, lucky for you, my merc isn’t just for show. it’ll get us to the pharmacy and back in record time,” you said, already moving to grab your keys.

suguru stood back, arms still crossed as he watched the exchange with thinly veiled irritation, though he didn’t say anything. it was clear he had more on his mind, but whatever it was, he’d hold it until later. right now, all he could do was let out a low chuckle as you and sukuna headed for the door. “don’t have too much fun playing chauffeur,” he muttered under his breath, though only you seemed to catch the edge to his tone.

you shot suguru a quick glance, sensing the unspoken frustration simmering beneath his usual cool facade. something to deal with later. for now, you had a sick yuuji to worry about — and a silent car ride with sukuna ahead of you.

as you and sukuna stepped out into the night air, you could feel the lingering tension from earlier slowly ease away. sukuna didn’t say much as you unlocked the car, and you didn’t push him to talk, but you could feel his gaze on you every so often, as if he was still trying to figure out where the hell this night was going.

the hum of your mercedes’ engine filled the silence between you and sukuna, a heavy contrast to the noise and chaos you’d just left behind at your place. the roads were mostly empty, your headlights casting long shadows on the quiet streets as you drove to the nearest pharmacy. you hadn’t realized how tense the atmosphere would feel, stuck in such close proximity with sukuna, the ryomen sukuna, in the small space of your car. it felt surreal.

beside you, sukuna sat with one elbow resting against the door, his gaze drifting out the window, though you could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to the passing scenery. he seemed... uneasy? maybe? you couldn’t quite place it. you thought about saying something to break the silence, but nothing came to mind. and then —

the click of your aux being connected startled you slightly, the car's speakers coming to life as sukuna fiddled with your stereo. before you could even react, the heavy beat of megan thee stallion’s “body” came through the speakers, the bass hitting hard in the confined space of your car.

you blinked in surprise. "you listen to megan thee stallion?" you asked, glancing over at sukuna, a brow raised in mild disbelief.

sukuna didn't miss a beat, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back into the seat. "you don’t?" he shot back, his tone laced with mock surprise. you could hear the teasing undertone in his voice, poking fun at your earlier comment about him not having a merc.

you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. ryomen sukuna, of all people, playing megan thee stallion in your car while his younger brother was quite literally fighting for his life back in your house’s bathroom. it was almost too much. the absurdity of it made you feel... lighter, more at ease, as if the heaviness of the night had been momentarily lifted by the unexpected normalcy of it all.

“god, this feels weird,” you muttered under your breath, half to yourself. sukuna, of course, caught it.

“what? can’t handle good music in your life?” he asked, smirk growing as the track hit the chorus, the catchy, almost hypnotic beat making it impossible not to tap along to the rhythm.

“body-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody-ody…” megan’s voice filled the car, and you couldn’t help but chuckle again, glancing out at the road ahead to distract yourself from the growing flush on your cheeks.

you were hyper-aware of everything in that moment — the thumping bass vibrating through the car, the subtle scent of sukuna’s cologne that lingered in the air between you, and the fact that his sharp eyes, despite being focused on nothing in particular, kept flicking to your side of the car every so often.

and that damn blush on your cheeks? yeah, he noticed. out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at your face again, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he was trying to figure out why the hell you looked so... flustered. but sukuna, ever the unbothered one, just brushed it off. probably makeup or the cold weather — that's what he told himself.

still, it was there, nagging at the back of his mind. why the hell were you blushing?

you pulled up to the pharmacy, the neon lights illuminating the quiet parking lot. as the car came to a stop, you reached for the keys to turn off the engine, the last echoes of the track fading into the background.

“well, this is it,” you said, exhaling softly as you undid your seatbelt.

sukuna didn't say much as he got out, but there was something lingering in the air between you two, something unsaid but thick with meaning. it was as if, in the quiet moments of the drive, with only music and occasional banter to fill the space, you both had somehow settled into an oddly comfortable rhythm — one that neither of you were fully ready to acknowledge.

you stepped inside the pharmacy together, and while sukuna kept his usual stoic expression, you could tell he was still thinking about the ridiculousness of the situation. you could feel his presence beside you as you made your way to the over-the-counter meds, his large frame moving with that same predatory grace, always aware, always watching.

“you get something for yuuji, i’ll grab the other stuff,” sukuna said, his tone more serious now as he focused on the task at hand. business mode was back on.

you nodded, grateful for the distraction as you grabbed the necessary meds off the shelf. but even as you busied yourself, you couldn't quite shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and sukuna tonight — something small, but noticeable.

as you stood in the pharmacy aisle, browsing through the meds you needed for yuuji, your phone buzzed in your pocket. without even glancing at the screen, you knew who it was. sugu🤍, the contact name flashing up, paired with that familiar picture of the two of you sitting in your mom's garden, smiling like there wasn't a care in the world.

you swipe to answer, holding the phone to your ear, balancing the medicine in your other hand. “hey, sugu.”

“where are you?” his voice was clipped, almost tense. great, you thought, he was definitely not in a good mood.

“sugu, i just left. i’m getting the medicines for yuuji.” you answered matter-of-factly, tossing another box of meds into your basket.

“did you really have to go with pinkie pie? or, fuck that, did he have to come with you?” his voice had that edge to it, laced with frustration. you could picture the way his jaw was probably clenched right now, his expression tight.

you sighed, rolling your eyes at his tone. “suguru, his own brother is sick, at my house. i need to be a good host.” you emphasized the last bit, hoping to get him to back off a little.

“i could have just gone to get it, you know.” he grumbled, like it was the most obvious solution to the whole situation.

you paused in the middle of the aisle, hand resting on a shelf as you narrowed your eyes slightly at his words. “you didn’t offer to,” you pointed out flatly.

there was a long pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if the line had disconnected. you glanced down at your phone screen just to check, but no — he was still there. the silence was heavy, lingering between the two of you.

“suguru?” you prompted after a beat, tilting your head as if he could see your expression.

he sighed, his tone losing some of its sharpness. “whatever. just... come back home to me soon.” the words slipped out of him in a way that sounded... a little too possessive, even for him.

you raised a brow, caught off guard. “to you soon?” you echoed, a teasing lilt in your voice, the phrase sticking with you because it was such a... suguru thing to say.

there was another pause, but this time it felt deliberate, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to double down or just brush it off. eventually, though, he muttered, “yeah, see you.” and the line disconnected.

you blinked, staring down at the phone for a moment, the abrupt end of the call still making you smile a little. it wasn’t like suguru to be this weirdly possessive, and honestly? it made you giggle. you knew he was being protective more than anything — he always was when it came to you, especially when sukuna was involved — but the way he framed that parting sentence? come back home to me? god, it was so suguru, in the most ridiculous way possible.

while you were at the other end of the pharmacy, dealing with suguru’s call, sukuna’s phone buzzed quietly in his pocket. he glanced down, eyebrow raising when he saw the name flash on the screen — uraume. no fancy emoji, no photo, just their name. typical.

sighing, he picked up the call, already half-expecting some snide comment. “what now?” he grumbled into the phone.

uraume’s voice came through, dry as ever. “so, you finally took my word of advice, huh?”

sukuna narrowed his eyes. “fuck you talking about?”

“going with y/n as she gets medicines for the young master,” they responded, a slight note of smugness in their tone that sukuna immediately hated.

“for the record,” he began, tone already defensive, “she offered to come with me, not the other way around.” his words came out a bit harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. the whole situation was making him more agitated than he cared to admit.

uraume, of course, didn’t buy it for a second, though they let it slide. there was a pause before they spoke again, more business-like this time. “how is yuuji holding up, and choso?”

“the young master is what the kids today would call ‘hard coping,’ and choso... well, he’s about to faint from concern,” uraume reported, their tone as matter-of-fact as ever.

sukuna groaned inwardly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “of course he is,” he muttered under his breath. “just keep them put. i’m on my way back.”

“understood,” uraume said, and with that, the call disconnected.

pocketing his phone, sukuna glanced around, spotting you further down the aisle, finishing up your conversation with suguru and grabbing the last of the meds. he took a deep breath, collecting himself as he walked toward you, ready to leave the pharmacy and get back to the chaos waiting for him at your place.

meanwhile, you glanced around the pharmacy, searching for sukuna. basket in hand, you walked through the aisles, your footsteps echoing softly in the near-empty store. you spotted him standing by the entrance, his eyes scanning the shelves as he absentmindedly tapped his foot, probably waiting for you to finish up.

“got the stuff,” you called out, walking up to him, shaking the basket lightly.

“finally,” sukuna muttered, glancing over at you before eyeing the basket. “you get everything for the little shit?”

“yeah, all set.” you nodded, handing him the basket to carry, which he did without complaint. he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

as the two of you walked to the register, you couldn't help but think back to the call with suguru. despite the awkwardness, there was an underlying comfort there, a reminder of how close the two of you were. and now, with sukuna silently walking beside you, the tension of the night felt... almost forgotten.

"you sure your brother's gonna make it through the night?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

sukuna scoffed. "he's stronger than he looks. stomach bug won't kill him."

“still can’t believe you let him eat that much.”

“not my problem if he doesn’t know how to handle himself.”

you both shared a quiet laugh, and for a moment, the weight of everything else faded into the background, leaving just the simple, strange normalcy of the moment between you.

by the time you and sukuna stepped back into your penthouse, the clock read 11:47 pm — barely making it before the new year hit. rushing past the decorations and muffled party sounds, you both headed straight for the bathroom where suguru was hovering near yuuji, looking a mix of exasperated and slightly grossed out.

yuuji was still slumped on the toilet, groaning dramatically. “i can’t believe i spent the new year on a toilet seat,” he whined.

suguru, arms crossed, shot back sarcastically, “hey, it’s better than spending it with people you don’t like.”

yuuji’s head shot up. “what was that?”

“ugh, just forget it. here, take your medicine before you puke again,” suguru muttered, stuffing the medicine into yuuji’s hand, wrinkling his nose as he tried to avoid breathing in too much of the bathroom’s unfortunate aroma.

yuuji gave suguru a slightly offended look, then turned to ask, “is my brother okay?”

suguru, always the sarcastic one, smirked. “yeah, he’s a little further away from passing out now. congrats.”

yuuji pouted, clearly defensive. “hey! don’t make fun of my bro like that!” he whined, clutching the medicine as if it would defend choso’s honor. despite the tone of the conversation, there was no real bite in suguru’s voice, and yuuji seemed too tired to actually be mad.

while the bickering continued, the volume of their voices increasing from the bathroom seat to the door, you took this as your cue to find your mother and say goodbye. she had made it abundantly clear that she was ready to spend the rest of her night with her gardening club friends, but there was one last thing you had to address.

“mom, i’ve got the medicines for yuuji, and suguru’s taking care of everything now,” you started, but you could see from the way she pursed her lips that there was something else on her mind.

“hmph,” she began, clearly still irked. “you disappeared from the party because you were off with him, weren’t you?” her voice dropped a notch at the mention of sukuna.

you sighed, exasperated, and quickly explained the situation. “mom, yuuji was sick, and sukuna came with me to get the medicine. it’s not like i was off gallivanting somewhere.”

her expression softened, but not without one last snarky remark. “well, i suppose i can’t fault you for helping that poor boy. yuuji’s sweet… innocent, handsome boy... i still don’t know how he’s related to that devil,” she muttered under her breath, glancing toward where sukuna stood.

you rolled your eyes, not even wanting to get into it with her right now. “yeah, yeah. okay, mom. happy new year,” you said, wrapping her in a quick hug before she left to join her gardening friends. you could still hear her grumbling under her breath about sukuna as she walked out.

with your mom gone, you let out a sigh and turned back to the chaos in your bathroom — suguru still bickering with yuuji, and sukuna silently standing by, clearly done with the night.

what a way to ring in the new year.

by 11:53 pm, the house was buzzing with energy, and everyone seemed more than ready for the new year. the countdown flickered across the massive tv in your living room, adding to the rising anticipation. despite yuuji’s earlier bathroom ordeal, the energy was contagious, and no one wanted to miss out.

“how can i get unsick in five minutes, no borax no glue?” yuuji whined dramatically from inside the bathroom, his voice practically echoing off the tiles as he leaned pathetically against the sink.

“you take the damn medicine, that’s what!” suguru yelled from the hallway, his patience clearly wearing thin after dealing with yuuji’s theatrics for the past hour.

“i’m tryingggg!” yuuji sobbed, fomo hitting him hard as the minutes ticked down. every second felt like torture, and the idea of missing the countdown was clearly not sitting well with him.

meanwhile, sukuna, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, shot a sharp glare toward the bathroom. his voice, low and threatening, cut through the noise. “brat! if you don’t get your ass out here in the next two minutes, i’ll wrestle that stomach bug out of your gut myself!”

there was a heavy silence, one that made your heart race a little, wondering if yuuji had finally succumbed to his illness or if sukuna’s threat had genuinely scared him into silence. but before you could even open your mouth to check, yuuji emerged, wiping his face and grinning like he hadn’t spent half the evening locked in the bathroom.

you blinked. “yuuji… you okay?”

“yup!” he chirped, bouncing on his feet like he had never been sick at all. turns out, a threat from sukuna was all it took to chase away whatever stomach bug had plagued him.

the whole group barely had time to process yuuji’s miraculous recovery before you all rushed outside to your backyard, practically dragging choso along with you. choso, who had been hovering anxiously around yuuji, was reluctant at first but was quickly yanked into the excitement as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

the air was electric as you stepped out, everyone gathering just in time for the fireworks. the backyard was packed with friends and neighbors, all of you craning your necks toward the sky as the final moments of the year slipped away. there was something about standing there, shoulder to shoulder with everyone — yuuji looking more alive than ever, choso finally smiling, suguru muttering something sarcastic under his breath, and even sukuna standing there, his usual scowl softened just slightly — that made the moment feel... perfect.

the countdown echoed through the crowd as everyone began shouting.

“ten! nine! eight!”

you felt your heart race, glancing at the faces around you. suguru caught your eye and gave you a small smirk. yuuji was practically vibrating with excitement, and even sukuna looked somewhat engaged, his sharp eyes flicking to the fireworks as they started to light up the sky.

“three! two! one!”

the sky exploded in color, fireworks bursting overhead as the new year officially began. everyone cheered, and for a moment, it felt like all the tension of the night melted away. choso clapped a hand on yuuji’s back, and suguru leaned into you with a knowing smile.

and sukuna, standing just a little further back, cast one last glance at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

he stood back, watching as the scene in front of him unfolded. you were leaning into suguru, laughing at something he’d said, and nearby, yuuji and choso were lost in their own conversation, chuckling about something ridiculous, no doubt. the fireworks lit up the sky, but it felt like sukuna was watching it from another world entirely, standing just a little further behind, isolated despite being surrounded by people. it made him feel... weird.

it wasn’t a feeling he was used to — this odd tug in his chest. his brothers, people he cared about, seemed so at ease, so connected to something he was still struggling to grasp. he couldn’t even focus properly, caught up in the sight of you fitting so comfortably into their dynamic. it was infuriating in a way, how natural you looked with them. his jaw tightened, fingers twitching at his sides as he tried to shake off the unfamiliar sensation.

he didn’t even register uraume standing next to him until they spoke quietly, their voice cutting through his thoughts.

“you know, a life like that is right within your reach. you don’t need to deny yourself.”

sukuna’s head snapped towards them, but uraume’s face remained neutral, as if they hadn’t just dropped that bombshell. their words echoed in his mind. what the hell did they mean by that? were they talking about him finding some kind of happiness? a life where his brothers were content with people who weren’t just him? the thought sat heavy in his chest, uncomfortable.

it annoyed him, really, how accurate it was. it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed yuuji and choso building connections with others, and yeah, it pissed him off sometimes. but this was different — there was something about tonight, about you being so easily part of their circle, that made it feel more... real. like it was happening with or without him.

sukuna clicked his tongue, frustrated, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “don’t talk like you know everything,” he muttered, though the usual bite in his voice was missing. uraume, as always, wasn’t fazed, their calm demeanor steady as ever.

they walked a few steps ahead, glancing back at him, waiting for him to follow.

sukuna lingered for a second, his eyes trailing back to the four of you standing there, almost glowing under the light of the fireworks. his brothers were laughing, carefree, and there you were, comfortably settled between them, like this was just the way things were supposed to be.

"damn idiots," sukuna grumbled under his breath, but there was no heat behind the words. just something else, something more difficult to name. maybe uraume was right. maybe there was a part of him that wanted to be a part of that life. but fuck if he was going to admit it.

he let out a low sigh before finally stepping forward, walking with uraume to join the group. the moment felt... off-balance, like he was being dragged into something he wasn’t ready to face. but for tonight, just for a little while, he could handle it. he could stand beside them and pretend that this strange feeling — whatever it was — didn’t bother him.

almost like he was embracing this new normal.

though in the back of his mind, sukuna couldn’t shake the thought. how long could he keep pretending it didn’t matter?

as the fireworks burst overhead, casting brilliant colors across the sky, suguru leaned into you, his voice low and soft as he murmured, “you know i love you, right?”

you’d heard him say it before — plenty of times, in fact — but something about the way he said it now felt… different. it carried a weight that made you pause for a second, caught off guard. the fireworks’ loud cracks drowned out the silence that followed, and though you tried to brush it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline and excitement of the moment, you couldn’t ignore the subtle shift in tone.

“yeah, i do,” you responded with a smile, keeping your voice light, hoping to mask the brief flicker of confusion in your chest.

suguru’s words, though innocent enough, didn’t go unnoticed by sukuna. standing just a few steps behind, he overheard the exchange, and something in him tightened. it was subtle at first — just a prick of annoyance he could easily brush off. after all, what right did he have to feel any type of way about it? suguru had always been close to you, and this wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that. but tonight… yeah, tonight it felt different. and he hated it.

screw this, sukuna thought, clenching his jaw as he tried to shake off the feeling. but the way suguru leaned into you, his words hanging in the air, stuck with him more than he wanted to admit. it wasn't jealousy — at least, that’s what he told himself. nah, couldn’t be. but something about seeing you and suguru in that moment, wrapped up in your little world, made sukuna feel… off.

he gritted his teeth, glancing away like the fireworks had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the scene, overanalyzing every little detail. was there something more to it? was he just imagining things?

sukuna let out a low grunt, frustrated by how much it was getting to him. why the hell do i even care? he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. this wasn’t his place. you and suguru were whatever you were, and he had no claim to anything. yet, that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t go away. the thought of you being so close to suguru while he stood on the sidelines — like some fucking spectator — was driving him nuts.

he stole another glance at you, watching as you smiled at suguru like it was the most natural thing in the world. sukuna felt his chest tighten, a mix of frustration and something else — something he didn’t want to name — swelling inside him.

damn it. snap out of it, he scolded himself, trying to shake off the unfamiliar sensation. but it was too late. the seed had already been planted, and as much as he wanted to pretend it didn’t bother him, it did.

uraume’s eyes, sharp as ever, didn’t miss the brief flicker of something in sukuna’s expression as he watched you and suguru. the way his jaw tensed, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long before he tried to look away — it wasn’t hard to figure out what was running through his mind. uraume knew sukuna better than anyone, and in that split second, they could see the cracks in his usual stone-cold demeanor.

“you’ll never tell her, will you?” uraume’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the noise of the fireworks like a knife.

sukuna stiffened at the comment, his eyes narrowing. fuck off, he wanted to snap, but instead, he muttered under his breath, “don’t.”

it was a warning, short and sharp. his voice carried a bite, but uraume didn’t flinch. they knew him well enough to know that sukuna was deflecting, pushing back the only way he knew how. the truth was there, hanging between them in the silence that followed.

“you can’t keep pretending you don’t care,” uraume continued, their tone casual, like they were discussing something trivial. but sukuna felt the weight of it. “but it’ll eat you up. sooner or later.”

“i said drop it.” sukuna’s voice was firmer this time, but beneath it, there was a hint of something else — something almost vulnerable. and that pissed him off even more.

uraume gave a soft huff, not one to push any further when sukuna was like this. but they knew. they always knew. sukuna’s feelings were something he’d never admit to himself, let alone to you. no, he’d rather let that shit fester inside him than confront it.

sukuna turned away from the scene, focusing on the fireworks as they lit up the sky. but even the bursts of color couldn’t drown out the knot in his chest or the frustration gnawing at him. uraume was right — he’d never tell you. because what the hell would that even change? nothing good, that’s for damn sure.

besides, you seemed happy enough. with suguru, with your whole life. what good would his mess of feelings do in that picture? he scoffed under his breath. none.

“you really are an idiot sometimes,” uraume commented dryly, sensing his internal struggle. but they didn’t press the issue, stepping back and letting sukuna stew in his own thoughts.

sukuna clenched his fists, shoving them into his pockets as he let out a frustrated sigh. this is bullshit.

as you and suguru stood by the door, thanking everyone for coming, you were ready to start the cleanup on your own, but choso, yuuji, and uraume had other plans. despite your and suguru's protests, uraume's no-nonsense logic, combined with yuuji’s almost puppy-like excitement to "help out," completely overrode your resistance. even choso had already started clearing up trash, his quiet nature making him surprisingly efficient at it.

suguru sighed, hands on his hips, clearly not thrilled but accepting it. you exchanged a small smile with him before joining the effort, figuring it was pointless to argue. after all, with everyone pitching in, it made things faster — and more fun, apparently, as yuuji and choso somehow turned even picking up trash into some weird competition.

sukuna, on the other hand, stood in the middle of it all, awkward as hell. his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and his eyes darted around, unsure of where to even begin. domestic shit wasn’t his thing, never had been. and seeing everyone else laughing and bonding over something as mundane as cleaning up only made him feel more out of place.

“are you just gonna stand there, or help!?” suguru snapped from across the room, glaring at sukuna as he adjusted a pile of empty cups in his arms.

you rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh as you turned to sukuna, who looked like a cat that just got sprayed with water. “come on,” you said, motioning him toward the kitchen. “you can help me with the dishes.”

he muttered something under his breath but followed you anyway, his steps heavy. when you reached the sink, you handed him a towel and motioned toward the rack where you'd be passing the freshly washed dishes. “dry them,” you instructed with a teasing smile. “i’m not trusting you with washing.”

“yeah? don’t think i can handle it?” sukuna shot back, a small smirk playing on his lips, though there was a flicker of something softer in his tone, like he was grateful you were making this easier for him.

you chuckled. “nope, not risking it.”

as you cleaned the dishes, sukuna stood next to you, drying each plate, occasionally glancing sideways at you, the quiet between you both strangely…comfortable. he could hear yuuji and choso laughing in the other room, could see uraume silently stacking empty bottles into neat rows. so fucking normal, he thought, shaking his head in disbelief.

this wasn’t the kind of scene he was used to — this warmth, this casual domesticity. shit, he wasn’t even sure how to act around it. but here he was, drying dishes in your kitchen, a part of this weird, unfamiliar normalcy.

after a few minutes, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “this really how you spend your time? doing dishes and shit?”

you gave him a look, amused. “well, someone’s gotta clean up after parties. unless you think the dishes do themselves?”

“would be easier if they did.” he smirked again, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to enjoy this as much as he was.

suguru passed by the kitchen, glaring at sukuna like he was trying to figure out how he got out of the heavy lifting. “i still can’t believe you’re just standing there drying dishes while we’re out here busting our asses,” he muttered, though there was more of a joking edge than real anger behind his words.

“hey, drying’s a critical part of the process,” you shot back, defending sukuna with a grin.

sukuna snorted. “yeah, listen to the boss.”

“you’re lucky she’s got your back,” suguru muttered, shaking his head and walking away. you could hear him barking orders to yuuji and choso again, much to yuuji’s loud complaints.

you both worked in silence again, a strange but not unwelcome rhythm falling between you. sukuna, surprisingly, didn’t hate it. didn’t hate the simplicity of just…helping.

in a loop of thoughts he wasn’t ready to face. his hands moved mechanically, drying the plates you passed him, but his mind was somewhere else — swirling around the feeling that was creeping up on him, a feeling he didn’t expect to find in this place.

he didn't want this to end. but what was "this?" was it the business partnership, the reason you’d both ended up in each other’s orbit in the first place? the unspoken understanding you both shared, despite how wildly different your worlds were? or was it this — this bubble of normalcy that he never thought he'd want, where you, his brothers, uraume, and even that bastard sugur all coexisted in a way he knew he couldn't provide on his own? or maybe it was just this moment — the quiet domesticity of standing next to you in a kitchen, washing dishes, as if this was something the two of you did all the time.

"I don't want this to end," sukuna muttered, his voice low, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

you glanced up at him, surprised by the sudden admission. “you like dish drying that much?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

he shot you a look, his usual smirk tugging at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "you know what i mean, woman."

you set the dish you were scrubbing back in the sink, the playful smile on your face softening. "i suppose i do," you said quietly, your voice reflecting the undercurrent between you both — one neither of you had fully addressed but had always lingered just below the surface.

the hum of the water filled the silence that followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. there was something grounding in it, like the two of you were sharing a moment neither of you knew how to name, but neither of you wanted to break.

sukuna sighed inwardly, hands gripping the dish towel a little tighter. what the hell am i doing? he thought, his mind betraying him as the realization hit him harder than he expected. he didn’t know how to handle this. this warmth. this…want.

but he couldn’t deny it either. whatever this was, he wasn’t ready for it to slip through his fingers.

“it’s not just about this, you know,” he added, a little softer this time, almost hesitant. “this whole damn thing... with you, with them.” he gestured vaguely toward the other room, where yuuji and choso’s muffled laughter could still be heard through the living room. “i don’t know what the hell it is, but...”

you paused, hands in the soapy water as you turned to him, really seeing him for a moment. sukuna, the ever-powerful, ever-confident ryomen sukuna, was struggling. not with business — but with the simple idea of wanting something more.

you raised an eyebrow, giving him an out, a chance to laugh it off. "what? feeling a little domestic, sukuna?"

he gave a low growl, though there was no real heat behind it. “watch it, or you’ll be drying these yourself.”

you chuckled, but the gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on you either. you weren’t ready for this to end, either. there was something comforting about it — the ease, the surprising peace of just… being here with him.

taglist is still very much open, comment below or on the masterlist post to be added. you must be 18+ and have the same displayed on your profile. sometimes my tumblr acts a bit wonky and i can't see people's about me, so i might ask you for your age/ask to have it displayed. please bear with me during those moments <3 thank you! produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[prettygiri222]

Hi baby idk if ur requests are on but can u pls do a black reader who doesn’t have a lot of ass (baby I be reading these fanfics (not urs) and it always has black women with fat ass and big boobs and I’m like 😔 that ain’t me) and who doesn’t smoke, with like anyone but maybe wit eren or Connie, thank you sm girl and even if u don’t do this I appreciate u reading this hottie.

Girl I feel you, my shit not the fattest either but I do smoke myself so that's why it's present in some of my stories😭

Connie x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“stop playing with me mama,” Connie quickly ushered your naked bodies into his bedroom. clothes lost from the heated makeout session that took place on the leather couch in the living room. the movie playing long forgotten on the flat-screen TV. “get on the bed.”

“ah!” you let out a little gasp when he brought his large hands down and delivered a slight slap to your ass. excited for what was coming next you let out a little giggle as you crawled onto the bed. you got into position as you always did, missionary. with you on your back and pulling back your legs so they rested near your head.

Connie loved being able to see your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure. the way your eyes crossed when a particularly strong orgasm raked through your body. the access he had to play with your small tits, his huge hands dwarfing them. he loved the way you clenched extra hard when he tweaked or sucked on your nipples leaving them puffy and sore in the morning. 

your slacked jaw gives Connie free entry to your mouth to spit and suck on your tongue, mixing saliva. you're left breathless, gasping for air unable to kiss him back with moans being forced out into his mouth by his deep strokes. or when halfway you would give up on holding your leg and clutch onto him for dear life. your smaller body jostling against his sweaty one as he pounded into your pussy, basically drowning in your slick.

but today he wanted to try something different.

“can you get on your hands and knees for me please?” your boyfriend asked, staring intently at you from above. your cunt was already glistening from just making out but he was no better. his dick was standing at attention between his legs just waiting to find its way inside you.

“ok…” you meekly replied wanting to please your boyfriend. you slowly dragged yourself into the new position. the arch you presented to your boyfriend was utterly pathetic. you felt embarrassed feeling more exposed despite holding yourself open for him only a few moments ago.

“you can do better than that,” Connie said. you felt him nudge his dick against your soaking cunt. 

“I can't” you let your head fall against the mattress. god, this was so humiliating. until now Connie never mentioned anything about wanting to try doggy style but you hated it. always jumping into a position that allowed the two of you to be face to face. you loved the sight of Connie above you. his happy trail that led to a sharp v-line, the way his abs flexed after every thrust made you so wet and his caring eyes that watched your every move to see how you would react. a cute way to tell that Connie was close was the way his pink lips quivered faster the closer he got to his orgasm.

but the underlying reason you preferred missionary above all was because anytime you watched porn you noticed how in every video the girls in doggy always had the fattest asses, something you didn’t have. but it wasn’t something that made you self-conscious. you just didn’t think you would enjoy it as much cause of it.

you loved your smaller body and showing it off. like earlier today, you were wearing a tight baby tee and your favourite pair of low waisted jeans that showed off your deep back dimples. Connie could not keep his hands off you, they trailed your exposed skin before pulling at your belt loops. it was his signal that he wanted them off.

Connie on the other hand didn’t mind indulging in your love for missionary. seeing his girl happy and fucked out made him feel good but he felt like he wasn’t able to give you all he had. Connie's dick wasn't the biggest but it was really thick and girthy with a downward curve due to how heavy it hung. 

what he noticed after prodding around at your insides with his fingers and memorizing all your soft spots was that your most sensitive spot was upwards, toward your stomach. so in missionary he could only brush it and not abuse it how he wanted.

wanting to hear no more of your complaints Connie took matters into his own hands. he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed where he was standing. before you could turn and see what he was doing he pressed his hand in between your shoulder blades and forced you down face first into the mattress. “oh sweetie, but you can”

your newfound arch was delicious. your upper body was pressed flat against the bed creating a deep curve in your spine that led to your ass that was being held up by Connie. you turned your head to the side so you could breathe

“look at you, so talented,” he praised, marvelling at your body. it was amazing how you could take his dick like a fucking champ yet you were so tiny compared to him. his huge hands swallowed each of your asscheeks as he kneaded them while teasing the tip of his dick against your slicked hole.

“I'm going in,” your boyfriend gave you a brief warning to prepare for the stretch but you weren't ready. you're so used to his curve going down towards your spine so feeling it go up into your tummy was new.

“oh my goddd” you whined out. he bottomed out quickly, his tip kissing your cervix. you instinctively pulled away from him already feeling overwhelmed.

“where you going ma?” Connie stuck his thumbs into your back dimples to give him some leverage. he easily pulled you back onto his dick. you let out a cry as he forced himself inside. “you feeling me deep inside?”

“yeaaa,” the wet squelching sounds of your pussy coating his dick could be heard. some of your wetness dripped down your thighs. after each thrust you could feel yourself being stretched out to fit his size. “all in my tummy pa”

the view Connie had was amazing. he spread your brown cheeks so he could watch himself slide in and out of your tiny cunt, the pink of your pussy appearing when he pulled out. he watched as your creamy paste began to coat his dick. pap! pap! pap! it was like music to his ears. 

you were already soaking wet, the sheets underneath where you two connected was drenched and turning darker in colour. so for the pure obscenity of it Connie spat on the shaft of his dick. he groaned watching as your hole greedily slurped it up along with his dick. 

“you hear that mama?” pap! pap! pap! Connie gave you a second to listen to the sounds your body was making. it was straight-up pornographic. “that’s how you know I’m hitting it right.”

“uhuhuh” your boyfriend was showing you what you were missing out all this time during missionary. his cock struck the same spot each time. it felt so good that it was starting to hurt.

the force of Connie's pelvis slapping against your ass was enough to send you flying forward every thrust. and each time he pulled you back like you were a fucking ragdoll. you couldn't do anything but take everything he was giving you.

you reached out to trying to grab something, whether it was the sheets, his arm, the bedframe, you just needed something to brace yourself. Connie watched as your tiny hands struggled to grasp at his sheets.

your poor pussy was going to be bruised in the morning from how rough Connie was being. once he found your sweet spot he didn't let up, the intensity he was pounding at it was insane. he didn’t let up, not that you would allow him to either.

each time Connie pulled out your pussy just sucked him back in. pap! pap! pap! the sight and the sounds you were making had his dick twitching, aching for release. and your cunt felt like heaven, all warm and wet. he wasn’t going to last any longer in this position. “ma, I'm so close.” he groaned.

“me to me to” you moaned out against the bed. the growing feeling in your stomach was about to burst. your legs shook like a fawn taking its first steps. you sunk further into the bed arching deeper into Connie needing just a bit more. his tip reaching your cervix was the final push, “m’cumming” you whined out.

you pressed your face into the sheets when the overwhelming feeling hit you. Connie let out a low whimper feeling you clenched tightly around his cock stopping him in his tracks. unable to pull out he was forced to release inside you, painting your insides.

“knew your lil ass would love it.” he chuckled watching you twitch underneath him. he waited until your sopping cunt stopped spasming around his dick. one you both finished your orgasms he pulled out watching as his cum mixed with your fluids spilled out of your quivering hole.

hope this was to your liking <3 my requests are open but I'll do another post on that later

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[jaicey]

CHERRY LIPGLOSS SUCKS

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You and Regina have a long-standing history together, and now, with your exes pairing up in a new relationship, you are reluctantly forced to work together to win them back. Will the familiarity bring you closer, or will old habits resurface, leading to further tensions?

Warnings: manipulative regina, profanity, beginner fanfic writer:so mid writing, mentions of weed and mozzarella sticks

Words:1.3k

A/N:Thank you so much for all the support on Part 1, especially to that one user who reblogged and said "go read or u suck" I LOVE U.

Regina's words echoed in my mind like a stuck record."

"Ill see you tomorrow, after school, underneath the bleache-"

"Dude!" Mae jolted me out of my thoughts, snapping. My brain instantly refocused on the present moment.

The final class had just 5 minutes left, and I had to meet Regina. I hadn't had a genuine and meaningful conversation with Regina in a while. Our last talk had taken place years ago, and it didn't exactly conclude on the best terms.

-

"Did You really have to be that honest?!"

-

"Y-Yeah?" I stammered as I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my mind.

"Are you even paying attention?" she asked with an eye roll.

Trying to cover up my shit, I responded with a snort, "Of course!" hoping she would buy my lie.

Unconvinced, she asked, "So, when is Anders' soccer game?"

Ander plays soccer?

I gulped, "Tomorrow?" I replied, my voice smaller.

"Ander has asthma, dumbass." She pointed out

My shoulders sagged as I let out a resigned sigh, muttering under my breath, "fuck you, reverse psychology."

"You good?"

I attempted to brush off Mae's concern, replying, "It's nothing."

She gave me a skeptical look, countering, "Bullshit. You didn't even touch those mozzarella sticks I brought you. You love mozzarella sticks."

"I was full," I argued lamely, attempting to defend myself.

Mae raised a skeptical eyebrow, reminding me, "You guzzle down a Red Bull every morning for breakfast. Your 'full' card doesn't fly, genius."

"I'm just not in the mood today, okay?" I reasoned again

"Fine," Mae conceded, slightly annoyed. "I'm going to go help Brynn roll some. Want to join?"

I shook my head, declining her offer.

"Nah, I have something to do," I responded, already turning to leave the classroom.

Mae looked at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. "Okay..." she replied, still doubting my excuse.

I was growing increasingly annoyed as I waited for Regina under the stinking bleachers. The place absolutely reeked, and I had been tapping my foot in irritation for far too long.

"I'm a bit surprised you actually showed up."

Regina stated as she approached me with a confident stride.

I responded in a sarcastic tone, rolling my eyes, "Yeah, blackmailing me about my friends really works wonders."

I glanced around, surprised not to see Gretchen and Karen accompanying her, as usual.

I couldn't help but comment, "Where are your backscratching bootlickers?" I raised an eyebrow.

With a slight tilt of her head she responded with a snarky remark, "Your mouth is still as vulgar as ever, i guess some things never change."

"As if you're any better." I mumbled under my breath, too low for her to hear

"Woah woah, dating!?" I replied, thoroughly taken aback. "No way am i going to be your girlfriend!"

Regina quickly corrected me, "Pretend." She rolled her eyes, growing impatient with me. "Do you want Tina back?" She asked, her annoyance clear. "Then there's no question about it.

I wrestled with the idea, questioning if it was even worth the effort.

My face twisted in doubt as I questioned her plan. "How do you even know this will work?"

Regina's voice took on a venomous tone as she snapped, "Can you just shut up and trust me?"

My scoff turned into a mocking laugh. "Trust you, Regina?" I taunted

-

I sat alone in my darkened room, tears streaming down my face as I clutched my teddy bear tightly for comfort. My room looked like a cyclone had gone through it; pillows and blankets scattered every which way, and pieces of paper and pictures torn up. I could hear my mother's concerned voice outside my door, saying Regina wanted to talk to me. I shouted back, my voice shaking with anger, "Tell her to fuck off!"

-

I scoffed in disbelief. "Right, because the last time I trusted you really worked out well for me." The memory of her betrayal still stung.

"Can we not discuss that right now?" Regina replied sharply, but my anger remained.

The audacity of this bitch is terrifying!

"We're going to have to work together, so if you keep bringing it up, you're just making this more uncomfortable than it already is."

My anger gradually faded, replaced by a begrudging acceptance. I hated to admit it, but she was right

— we I couldn't keep dwelling on the past if we were going to make this plan work.

I reluctantly agreed, "Fine," Part of me yearned for an acknowledgement, for her to address the past, but her lack of response just left me feeling disappointed.

Regina sneered disdainfully, her gaze traveling along my entire body, her eyes judging me. "What the fuck are you wearing?" she taunted, as if I had committed a fashion felony.

I looked down at my clothes, feeling a bit self-conscious. "What?" I replied defensively, unsure of the issue.

Regina abruptly grabbed my wrist, her touch surprisingly warm. Without a word, she began pulling me towards her red Jeep.

"where are you tak—" I started, but she quickly cut me off, her words laced with annoyance.

"I am not going to be seen with an outdated loser," she retorted, her grip not relenting as we approached her vehicle.

I stumbled slightly as she practically dragged me along, trying to protest, "It's just a band tee!"

My wrist felt the absence of her touch as Regina turned to open the driver's door of her Jeep.

As she settled into the driver's seat I glanced back at the passenger and the back seat, debating where to sit.

Opting for the safer choice, I reached out for the back door handle before Regina interrupted me.

"Sit in the passenger seat, idiot," she ordered, her tone cutting through the air.

Reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside Regina, sitting a slight distance away from her. As she started the jeep and began driving, I turned my gaze towards the window.

I tried once more to get an answer, my eyes still glued to the outside world.

"Seriously," I persisted, "where are we going?"

Regina's response was brief, "Shopping," she replied. "If I'm going to pretend to date you, you at least need some proper clothes."

The cafeteria felt oddly silent as a murmur of whispers surrounded me. I couldn't tell if it was my anxiety playing tricks on me, but the atmosphere felt eerily hushed.

"I hate this," I muttered under my breath, feeling the weight of everyone's gazes upon me. Wearing the clothes Regina had deemed socially acceptable yesterday made me feel even more out of place right now.

My train of thought came to a halt as my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Regina: "Stop standing there like a statue. Come sit with us."

I glanced at my phone, finding a flurry of messages from my friends group chat. "Where are you?" and "What the hell are you wearing" filled the screen. I reluctantly raised my gaze to our usual table, only to see my friends staring at me, bewildered. Swiftly muting my phone, I headed towards the plastics table.

'Took you long enough,' she muttered, as I approached, her eyes glued to her phone, no doubt scrolling through Instagram.

Gretchen, a hint of false enthusiasm in her expression, looks up from her phone. "Why's she here?" she asks, peering at Regina through raised eyebrows.

Regina retorts with a deadpan tone, rolling her eyes slightly, "To sit with us.”

Gretchen, her voice rising in pitch, exclaims, "What?! She can't-" only to be cut off by Regina's firm interject.

"Sit," Regina says, her inflection leaving no room for argument.

I hesitantly moved to sit across them.

"Hey, sorry- uh," I greet, looking between Karen and Gretchen with a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why am I sitting here? This is not part of the plan!" I whisper-yelled at Regina, leaning in closer to avoid being overheard.

With a roll of her eyes, Regina replied, "Just go with it." She set her phone down, adding, "Tina's watching".

I glanced around the cafeteria, spotting Tina seated with her clique, watching me intently. In that moment, our eyes met, confirming that the first step of Regina's plan had been successfully executed.

Step one:Complete

A/N: next part is cadys arrival😱🥶

[atropasluvr]

texts (nsfw)

Kenji Sato x black! reader 

this is really short and rushed I've never written fanfic yall 🙁

warnings/notes: black!reader, reader is on the thicker side 🤭 w/a vagina, unprotected piv (wrap it before u tap it yall), pet names (baby, honey), fluffy ish ending, doggystyle, reader has long hair (or well long enough to pull), established relationship, probably ooc kenji, squirting 

synopsis: kenjis at practice.. but you’re needy. soooo... you text him🤭.

I listened to Blow by Beyoncé for peak freakiness to write this y'all. 

——————-

Today was an extremely long day. An extremely long, boring day. Kenji had left before you even woke up, off to practice as usual. You lounged around the house for hours, in nothing but panties and one of his jerseys. 

Laid up on the bed, you looked over at the tall mirror a few feet away. The same one Kenji *loved* to fuck you in front of. A smirk painted on your features as an idea popped into your head. Sitting up, you sent Kenji a text.

you: Kenjiii 

after a few minutes, you got a reply. 

jiji 🩶:hey baby, what’s up? 

you: hii , I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you 

jiji 🩶:I’m on a short break, I can chat for a bit. what’s up?

you: nothinnn. I got something for you tho

jiji🩶: what is it? 

*sent 1 attachment.*

A mirror pic, with you lying on the bed. Ass up. Your phone just barely covering your face. His jersey hung loosely on your chest.

(here’s a ref pic)

After about 30 seconds of being on read, you got a response.

jiji🩶: I’ll be home in 20

You hearted his message, before turning your phone off. You were in for it now. You lay on the bed, patiently waiting for him to arrive. 

The 20 minutes seemed to pass quickly. You could hear the door slam from downstairs, and rapid footsteps approaching the bedroom door. Kenji quickly entered, and your gaze quickly traveled down to the obvious tent in his pants. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” He scoffed, quickly approaching the bed. You were sat in the middle of the bed, watching him with a small smirk. You feigned innocence, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Sending me that shit, mid-practice!“ He grabbed your leg, pulling you closer to him. You let out a soft yelp as he forced your legs open. “So damn aggravating..” He muttered, running his finger along your clothed folds.

You bit your lip, squirming in his grasp. He looked up at you with low eyes, flipping you onto your stomach. You arched your back, feeling him press against you. 

“K-Ken..” 

“Shh.” *He whispered, slipping your panties to the side. You whimpered as he slid along your folds, his tip nudging your aching clit. 

“Mmh.. fuck..” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. 

One of Kenji’s hands moved up to hold your hip tightly, the other lining his cock up with your wet folds. He slid in, eliciting a moan from both of you. 

He quickly sped up, pounding into your poor little cunt. Your hands dug into the sheets as you moaned, cunt gushing around his cock. The pain of him stretching you out quickly turned to pleasure.

“Fuck.. fuck yes.. mmf” He groaned, fingers digging into your hips. The sound of your soaking pussy fills the room.

“Fuck.. such a tight little pussy..” He breathed out. Quickly adjusting his angle, he fucked you deeper, making you gasp and moan his name. 

“O-oh.. Kenji…” 

He gripped your hair, pulling your head up to look at him. Your pupils are blown wide, tears threatening to fall. Kenji bit his lip, your fucked out state making heat pool in his stomach. He leaned over, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. Your tongues rubbing against each other. 

“Fuck..” You whispered, lips swollen and glossy with spit as he pulled away. Kenji watched you, soft moans slipping as he felt you clench around him. That familiar tensing up of your body told him you were close. 

“C-c'mon baby. Cum for me.” *He whispered, groaning as his tip brushed against your cervix.

“K-Kenji.. o-oh my god.. just like that baby..” You moaned out, legs trembling as you neared your release. Kenji’s hands moved to spread your ass apart, watching himself slide in and out of you with ease. A creamy ring around the base of his cock. 

“Yeah, baby? You like it like that?” He furrowed his brows, groaning as he neared his own release. “Cum with me baby… make a mess all over my cock..” He muttered, thrusting as fast as he could. 

“Oh my god. Kenji..im…fuckkkk-“ You whined, your mouth agape as you came, thighs shaking. “Mmmmf..” You moaned, your arousal dripping down your thighs. 

Kenji was losing his shit. You felt so good, so warm, so tight. With a loud groan, he came. Warm sticky cum coating your spongy walls. He gritted his teeth, slowing his thrusts. “D-damn..” Kenji sighed, slowly pulling himself out, making you whimper at the emptiness. 

He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Letting you calm down from your orgasm.Heavy breaths coming from both of you. He cleaned you two up, cuddling up with you after. You laid on his chest, a leg draped over him. He gave you soft kisses as he massaged the fresh bruises on your hip. 

Yeah. You won’t be walking for a bit. 

[lizzy06]

Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic Recs!!(AO3)Pt.1

Main Masterlist

[For part 2 -> Pt.2]

The Blind Date Show by NatoriousJANExo (Humour, Blind dates) Each chapter has a different blind date which they shoot in a studio.{ALL CAN BE READ STANDALONE}

No Pairing(The fic that nourishes/ destroys your soul)

The Burden Of Grief by Redwarrior2003 (oneshot, angst, family feels) Kong shiu gives megumi a clarity to his past.. [COMPLETED] Animals of regret by tteokcrossing (oneshot, toji tries to be a good parent) Toji lives. Neither teaching nor parenting are his strong suits, but he ends up stuck with both. [COMPLETED] Piano Joint by KatInnRotato (oneshot, Domestic fluff, humour) When Toji told Gojo his last wish instead of killing him, Gojo asked him to 'take responsibility' ...so now Toji's domestic life began. [COMPLETED] Father of Mine by oceansgrey (fluff, humour, toji tries to be a good parent)- Toji upon being left by his now ex-wife is stuck taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki and he also ends up getting the job of combat specialist at jujutsu tech [ONGOING] Blackout by Xhoi (Mystery, Toji as shikigami)- In an attempt to improve himself after his fight with sukuna, megumi summons a shikigami he has never seen before. It doesn't listen to him and acts on his own. Also he doesn't why his teacher is so scared and alert. [ONGOING] End of Beginning by may_aar (No curse au, Uncle sukuna, hurt/comfort)After the sudden passing of his brother and his wife whom sukuna hasn't met in 13 yrs, he has to take guardianship of his nephew.{This is so good!!} [ONGOING] Out of the Night That Covers Me by rainyconcrete (Angst, Hurt/comfort) An ancient necromancer resurrects Toji and Megumi is to acknowledge the loss of family along the way. [ONGOING] Terminal by jules(talefeathers) (oneshot, Angst, Hurt/comfort, death) Megumi Reunites with his family in after life. [COMPLETED] Yuji's adventure with his big brother Sukuna by semisEmi - sukuna did not know he has a brother until he turned 26... with the help of his friends he traverse through his new life.[ONGOING] In Another Life by Yunaminayuna (collection of oneshots, fluff and humour) collection of Fushiguro family drabbles and short fics [COMPLETED] Three times Toji apologizes to his Son by calmthyself (Domestic fluff, Hurt/comfort)And the one time Megumi apologizes to his dad.[ONGOING] The Problem with Ms.Itadori by PsychaoticButterscotch (Alternate au, toji trying to be a good parent, fushi mama lives) Yuuji's mother , she's weird - But Megumi doesn't say anything about it, Mama always said to not say anything at all if it's something not nice. [ONGOING]

Ryoumen Sukuna x Reader

Flowers for u- 1.Dandelion 2.Sunflowers by yuukiqwq(temporary unrequited love, love confession) 1.Dandelion- His heart beats only for you while yours beats for someone else, so he made a wish on a dandelion, hoping it would come true. 2.Sunflower- He only has eyes for you so why won't you look his way [COMPLETED] Not Many women by Lemon_Pepper_Fox (modern au, smut) you have a crush on yuji but you really like his brother sukuna. [COMPLETED] Blooming Cactus by poeeee(fluff, humour, idiots in love) Transferring schools in the middle of the year is never easy and then you are stuck with an uncooperative partner for history project. [ONGOING] Yuji's Caretaker | Sukuna by Sukunasuka (slowburn, family fluff) You are a new kindergarten teacher who loves your job. One of your new students, yuji, gets in trouble frequently forcing you to call in his caretaker quite often who also happens to be your neighbor. [ONGOING] With you, I Hurt. With you, I Love by VinVictory (High shool au, fluff) You are busy taking care of an injured Yuji as his caretaker and his older brother is busy falling in love with you. [ONGOING] Intrusive Thoughts | Sukuna/Reader by Visaliar (High school au , stalking, psychology) After becoming a forfeit to someone's bet, y/n is left heart broken. To add to her troubles, she has a mysterious stalker who daily send pictures he takes of her secretly. [ONGOING]

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Fair game by yemyem (Angst, Friends with benefits, Jealousy, Fake dating) Gojo is kind of your boyfriend but he fucks other girls too as he doesn't want anything serious so geto offers to help u out...that's fine..right? [ONGOING] Hello Again by MixyX21 () You are the new staff at jujutsu tech and one of your coworkers is Gojo Satoru, you ex fiancé who left you on your wedding day 10 years ago. [COMPLETED]

Gojo Satoru x Leiri Shoko

let us stand a chance by keouil (oneshot, fluff) gojo and shoko are invited to megumi's pta meeting.[COMPLETED] Close isn't enough by randsomprose (oneshot, getting together, making out) shoko confronts satoru about his stupid 'nobody will ever need to be alone again' comment before the fight with sukuna. [COMPLETED] To Say the Least This Is ... by starrybride (oneshot, slice of life, fluff) Shoko comes home a little too late for Satoru's liking. [COMPLETED] It’s past 3AM (I see you again) by moonlightsonata(mintedcaffeine) (oneshot, angst, hurt comfort) Both shoko and satoru can't sleep so they spend the night together. [COMPLETED] Sunny with a chance(with Gojo) by tiressian(fluff and humour, tooth rooting) Satoru comes back again.[COMPLETED] six step backwards by dickwackerlao (Time travel fix-it, sugushoko and satosugu on side, angst, fluff and humour) Shoko goes back in time and makes things different. [COMPLETED] Tale as old as time by starrybride(old japan, werewolf shoko) Japan is ruled over by three clans, descended from the gods, populated by humans and supernatural creatures. When one of those ruling clans kills Shoko's childhood friend, she heads to Kyoto to seek vengeance on the clan that killed him. Along the way she receives help in her quest from an unlikely source. [ONGOING] The Infinity Between Us by OddLittleSpider(Slice of life, Friends to lovers, slowburn) Gojo asks shoko to marry him, what exactly are his intentions? [ONGOING] Companion Proposal by jokerxpanther (Friend to lovers, slowburn, Domestic Fluff) Gojo asks shoko to marry him. [ONGOING] My Best Friend? by Kate_Loves_S4toshoko (friend to lovers, gojo is an idiot) [ONGOING] i hold the longing of the winter in my hand by Anonymous (friends to lovers, mutual pinning) Shoko saves satoru's life at the cost of her soul [ONGOING] COLLECTION: satoshoko mixtape by tiressian- standalone satoshoko stories in one place for our brainrot

[brendaareiss]

Freaky caldre hc!

(like always, don't read if u don't fw it)

I

v

- Cal tears up or cries easily while doing it, he's actually kind of sensitive

- Cal is OBSESSED with Andre's back and with his happy trail. Send post.

- Andre LOVES making Cal submit to him and talking to him/giving him orders while doing it

- One of Cal's biggest turn ons is being called a "good boy" or "pretty" when he's getting absolutely destroyed.

- Cal being hypersexual has led the two of them into not passing a day without doing something sexual. Whether is a quick bj the high-school's bathroom, a hj in Andre's room while his parents are at home, grinding and dry humping in Andre's car or Cal getting absolutely ruined

- I honestly don't think they switch at all. Andre loves being in control in all situations, when he's not, the man truly starts tweaking. He gets stressed, angry because he can't do shit, and it isn't a relieve to him when someone has control, power over him. Cal is totally fine by that though, he's happy with satisfying Andre

(Andre would rather kill himself than having something inside of him. Yall can't make me change my mind with all the "bottomdre" bullshit.)

- They're the clingiest and cutest mf when they're done. You can hear Cal's giggles and Andre yapping about how perfect Cal is and looks when you walk past Andre's room.

- Andre has DEFINITELY left bruises on Cal's body. He's too rough, he can't control himself.

- While Cal is teasing as fuck, he's just resumed to a submissive mess, a bunch of "more, please, andre" and a begging mess when Andre finally touches him

- Following, Andre loves making Cal beg. Not only because it fuels his ego, but because he loves hearing Cal's whiny voice, being completely overwhelmed

- There is not a single time in the life span of Andre kriegman where he hadn't finished inside of Cal. Cal sometimes gets annoyed or pissed of, because they needed to be quick and not make a mess, or because now he has to clean himself up. But most of the time he loves it too.

- Cal LOVES being manhandled. He will never admit it out loud though (well, only if Andre forces him to admit it, even repeat it)

-Cal also loves giving bj's to Andre. Having his mouth and throat full of him, the feeling of being fully possessed and weakened by him...Cal is obsessed with it

- Andre loves pulling Cal's hair.

-Cal has made Andre fuck him in the morning to not go to class. He was met with a delicious breakfast afterwards. Andre claimed it was his reward.

-following, Andre always gives little rewards to Cal once they're done. They can be food, small gifts or being bear hugged and showering him with kisses. He does almost anything to make Cal feel loved and cared for afterwards.

- Andre has internalised homofobia, Cal was sa'd as a kid. So yeah, things can get pretty angsty sometimes.

- Andre's dirty talk it's the bittersweetest thing ever. He would say the meanest things but with the most caring and loving tone of his voice (almost making fun of Cal). But when he's angry though, he's just mean (Cal secretly loves it but you won't hear him saying that).

-Cal has had Andre's belt on his wrists and neck

- Andre always cleans the mess the two of them do. Normally when Cal's taking a shower

- They REALLY can't keep it their hands to themselves.

- Andre is rlly toxic. Sorry. (Cal is too, but Andre wins by a lot). It's mainly because Cal is really the only one that he has and loves.

- once they're done, go back to sleep and finally let Mel inside of the room, she always sleeps in between them or on top of them (mostly Andre, ofc)

I'm seriously considering to start making fanfics. Leave asks so I can make fics about whatever you guys want 🙏

[ktjislove1119]

SUMMER

pairings : jongseob (p1h) x male reader

warnings : none, but like really pathetic pining and oblivious men not knowing how to act around their crushes (shota is sick and tired of yall)

rating : fluff :D

requested? : yesyesyes!!! thank u 🩵 anon, i don't think you were expecting a full fledged fanfic as a response to your request LMAO so do send in another one if you want a more simple headcanon version of this, i just couldnt help but go a lil crazy LMAO

a/n : strangers to friends to lovers, one of my favorite tropes. jongseob is definitely giving loser pining nerd in this one, but its ok bc hes so cute + this wasn't meant to be this long, but i couldnt help but go a little crazy + i highly suggest listening to the song while reading because it really sets the mood imo (summer by brockhampton)+ i had that ^ seob in mind while writing this btw hes just so heart eyes emoji in that video and i think light brown rlly suits him and gives off the strongest boyfriend vibes

wc : 6.5k+

"in the heat of the summer. yeah, yeah, oh, you know that you should be my boy. oh yes, you know. in the heat of the summer, you're so different from the rest."

jongseob didn’t expect himself to be the type to develop a crush on a first meeting, or more like first glance. but here he was: purposely keeping his head down to not draw too much attention to himself as you walked by him. he was looking down at his phone, swiping in random directions, even looking at the weather app and pretending as if that were interesting. it was really pathetic how shy he became whenever you were near, but that’s just you made him react — so it really wasn’t his fault…

“you’re kim jongseob, right?”

he flinched at your voice, not expecting to hear it call his name out of nowhere. locking his phone, and hoping you didn’t see him stare at the weather for the week, he looked up at you and nodded his head. his mouth went dry and he cleared his throat as an effort to make sure his voice didn’t crack when he spoke to you.

“the teacher told me to find you and let you know i’ll be the one tutoring you for math,” you take the empty seat next to him, pulling out your phone and holding it out to him, “we should exchange contact information so we can talk about when to meet up and what works best for our schedules,”

okay, hold on. everything was moving wayyyy too fast and jongseob still hasn’t blinked once since you started talking to him. it was as if his consciousness left his body. he forced himself to blink and then finally opened his mouth to talk. but you had cut him off, by accident.

“sorry, my name is [name], it’s nice to meet you,”

instinctively, he had bowed his head down and you mimicked the action.

“nice to meet you, i’m jongseob,”

”i know,” a kind smile on your lips almost sent him into a hyperventilating state.

your first meeting with each other ended with him saving your contact in his phone and vice versa, then you departing soon after as you had to go to your own class. that day, shota was wondering why jongseob was so latched onto his phone and staring at it with a blank look on his face.

— in the beginning phases of his crush, jongseob acts really, really reserved and shy. it’s almost as if he doesn’t even want to associate with you with how standoffish he is, but it’s just because he’s eternally scared of embarrassing himself in front of you. in the beginning, he tried brushing off how serious his crush was, thinking it was going to be passing. but when he realized that every night before bed he’d think of you, he knew he was in too deep at that point. it makes him so frustrated that he lets his mind be so filled of you and only you, especially because before you were assigned as his tutor, you’d never even properly spoken to one another. but hopefully now that you two will be forced to talk to one another, jongseob’s skittish and introverted behavior could change a little more…hopefully.

the two of you were sitting in the library, snacks and drinks surrounding you as the two of you were staring at the textbook on the table.

“so, what do you think you struggle with the most?” you kindly asked, pulling out your notebook and pencils from your bag and preparing to start. jongseob blinked at the question, feeling himself blush as he thought of how he struggled with practically everything related to math.

“i think…just everything,” he says honestly, a bashful and embarrassed look on his face. you almost cooed at the cute expression, but stopped yourself.

you didn’t expect jongseob to be so cute. when you had seen him in person the first time, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think he wasn’t at all attractive. he had soft features and a cute smile, which was enough to make you interested in him. but seeing his equally soft personality was enough to solidify that initial interest.

lucky you for having the teacher pair the two of you up.

“well, to be honest, i struggled a lot too when i was taking his class before,” you confessed honestly, hoping your words would comfort him a little, “but, it’s mainly the way he teaches it that makes it so confusing. so, i think, i can try re-explaining everything to you in a more simple way and hopefully it works that way? does that sound good to you?”

jongseob quickly nods, finding the tone and sound of your voice a comfort and especially persuasive. you could tell him to jump up on the table and do something incredibly embarrassing and he’d probably do it.

yeah, he was in too deep.

“then, let’s start! i’ll set an alarm for a break in twenty minutes?” he nods his head in understanding, feeling unreasonably determined to not let you and your efforts in teaching him go to waste. so he leans forward, mechanical pencil ready in hand and his notebook open to the first blank page.

as you’re explaining things to him, jongseob already feels as if he’s learning more from you in the first ten minutes than he did from his teacher the past couple of weeks. also, he feels himself growing more comfortable, which is a relief. because before he felt as if his cheeks were turning bright red anytime you looked at him, now it was just the tips of his ears (he hopes…). he was able to properly speak to you and make eye contact without completely stuttering through his sentences.

after the entire two hour session, you walked together to the bus stop. jongseob was only accompanying you since he could easily walk home, but he wasn’t about to make you wait alone. plus, he finally felt himself growing comfortable enough and he didn’t want to leave so soon (even if you had just spent the past two hours together).

“so, what do you like to do outside of school?” you ask, sipping your favorite boxed juice as you waited together.

“music,” he answers quickly, correcting himself soon after with, “i like listening to and writing music,”

you blinked in surprise, not taking him as the type and an impressed look was on your face, “wow, that’s really cool. i wish i had a talent like that. do you share your music on any platforms?” you pulled out your phone, as if you were ready for him to show you, but he shakes his head.

“no, just keep them on my computer…i don’t think i want them out, it’s kind of embarrassing,” he scratches the back of his head, cursing the red blush that was definitely rising up his neck.

”i don’t think it is,” you deny, pouting at his self-deprecation, “confidence is the key, jongseob!” you encourage, hitting his shoulder lightly, “if you ever feel comfortable enough, i’d love to hear it some day,”

he blinks at the offer, wondering how to respond to such an invitation. sharing his music with someone is something he deems really intimate, especially since it’s you — the boy he has a raging crush on. but he doesn’t have to think of his response much longer as your bus pulls up to the stop.

“it was nice getting to know you better, jongseob! i look forward to our next meeting,” you smile, bow your head to him, and then board your bus not looking back at him.

he watches the bus leave, his knees going wobbly as he collapses into a crouching position with his head in his hands.

“i’m screwed,” he mutters to himself, shooting up in a second’s notice and running his hand through his hair, “he’s so annoying, i’m really screwed,” he calls you annoying only because he knows that on his walk home and all the moments he spends without seeing you, he’ll just be thinking about you.

he’s in too deep, there’s no way he’ll ever recover from this crush.

— after the first couple of meetings, you and jongseob become much more acquainted than a simple “tutor” and “tutee.” you became close friends, so close that you met shota and now often sit with them during lunch breaks or in any free time. whenever there was an open period, you’d stop by jongseob’s classroom and take a seat next to him and fill the rest of your time together with little chats. shota teases him endlessly on how lovesick he has gotten over the past couple of weeks, but jongseob lets it slide — as long as you’re nowhere near to hear it. shota has known of jongseob’s crush on you for the longest time and deep down he’s genuinely happy for his friend that he was making some progress. before, he’d have to bear with watching jongseob longingly stare at you from afar, so seeing the state you and jongseob were in was incredibly comforting to know his best friend was making some sort of progress,

“jongseobie!” your excited voice makes him look up from his phone and instantly smile. the nickname you had coined for him after a couple of tutoring session makes his heart race so very fast. he loves how it sounds, how you comfortably call him, especially when it’s in that excited tone you just used a second ago. “guess what i got!”

“what?” he says in an instant, looking at you with curiosity as you come to a halt in front of him.

“you’re supposed to guess,” you tease, rolling your eyes at him. you step closer as you wait for his response, but after he stays silent as he tries thinking of what it could be, you could barely hold it in anymore. “i got us tickets to that show you wanted to see!”

from behind your back, you pull out two stubs of paper and jongseob feels his jaw drop. he had mentioned it to you in passing, when you were talking about the music you each liked, one of his favorite, lesser known, artists was going to be playing somewhat nearby. he planned on buying the tickets, but the fact you had remembered and done it yourself was enough to get blood rushing to his cheeks.

“you- how- are you serious?” he asks, looking at the paper tickets as if they were god send.

you nod with a proud smile, showing them off, “i got them as a gift because you’ve been doing really well lately — your teacher even pulled me aside earlier this week to compliment me for how well the lessons have been doing, but it’s really been all you. you’re really smart, and a quick learner, jongseob. so i wanted to appreciate your hard efforts with these!” he blushes at your compliment, too flustered to notice that you were also blushing at how obviously you were gassing him up.

“you bought two?” he asks, wondering if this was what he thought it was. maybe you took the initiative and…

“oh, if you wanted to bring a friend, maybe shota. i don’t think concerts are that fun to go to alone, so i wanted to make sure you could bring someone,” you explain, handing the tickets to him.

before he even stops to think, he’s pushing one back into your hands and saying, “come with me, i wanna go with you.” it sounds more definitive than inviting, but you don’t seem to mind as a wide grin stretches across your face.

“really? you want me to come?”

“of course, i really want you to come with me,” he says with utmost certainty, “the only reason i’m doing well is because of you, i want us to go together,”

you smile and accept the ticket, stepping forward to loop your arm with his, “what should we wear then? tell me, what’s the artist’s vibe,”

jongseob, trying not to hyperfocus on the close contact, replies with a shaky voice, “i’m sure you’d look cool in anything,” he compliments, “don’t think too much about it!”

“but i wanna fit in with the crowd! hey, recommend me some songs so i can understand them more,” you insist, making jongseob pull out his phone to scroll through his playlist. you watch eager, leaning against his shoulder and at his phone screen as he searches. he tries to ignore how close you are and hopes you don’t see the way his hand shakes from the nerves.

what he doesn’t know is that you’re also sneaking looks at him with a smile on your face, basking in the affection you had managed to steal from him. it was flattering to know that jongseob wanted you to come as his “plus one”, but you tried not thinking too deep into it…trying to stop yourself from thinking it was anything like a date. because it wasn’t.

even if you both wished it was.

“here, i’ll send you my playlist,” he says, showing you his spotify on the screen and waiting for your approval. when you hum in response, he copies the link and goes to your messages.

“wait, what’s my contact name on your phone? have you changed it since i put it in?” you ask curiously, seeing something added to the end of your name, like an emoji, that definitely wasn’t there before.

jongseob blinks in stupor before realizing what you were referring to. he hurriedly locks his phone and turns it face down to hide it from you, laughing to play it off.

“what? why? why? what’s my name on your phone?” you tease, trying to reach for it, despite not knowing if he had a passcode or not.

“it’s nothing, it’s nothing,” he says, trying to distract you from that topic of conversation and goes back to the artist you two were going to see, “just make sure you listen to the playlist-”

“but i want to know what my contact is on your phone!” you cut him, laughing as you begin play fighting for the device.

“well, your bus is here so you won’t get to know, sorry,” he says, unfortunately speaking the truth as the familiar bus pulled up to the curb.

“i won’t forget this, jongseobie,” you say in a mock threatening voice, squinting your eyes at him, “you’re gonna show me it tomorrow!!”

“bye, bye, [name]!” he calls out, happily waving to you as the bus takes off in the opposite direction of the school.

he looks down at his phone and unlocking it to show the link of his spotify playlist that was sitting in the textbox, waiting to be sent. he looks up at the top of his screen, smiling softly at the contact name and photo he had saved for you. it was a selfie you had taken on his phone during one of your recent study sessions, showing an incredibly tired 0.5 angle of you, with his head resting on the table being seen in the background. when he was scrolling through his camera roll, he had seen it and immediately made it your profile picture. it was cute to imagine you sneakily taking his phone while he was dozed off, snapping the picture, then setting it back to its original spot.

the words underneath your photo reading as “handsome tutor 𖹭.”

jongseob would have collapsed in embarrassment if you had seen that. he sighed, hit send on the text, and locked his phone to put away in his pocket. he walked home with a smile on his face, thinking about you and the concert you two were going to together.

—

“so it’s a date?” shota asks him, chilling in his seat as jongseob explains to him everything that had went down.

“it’s not a date, shh,” jongseob says, putting his finger to his lips and glaring at shota for saying such a thing so loud.

“it sounds like a date, jongseob,” shota deadpans, not looking impressed, “you two need to get it together, the tension between you two is so suffocating,” the man shivers as if to physically show how unbearable the “tension” was, but jongseob doesn’t pay that any mind.

“it’s not a date because if it were, he would’ve said it was, but it’s not because he didn’t say that,” jongseob quickly explains, wanting to put that discussion to rest.

“okay, then it isn’t a date,” shota forfeits, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics.

“yeah, it isn’t…” the man confirms once more, “besides, i don’t even know if he even likes men — have we ever thought about that? he probably just thinks we are good friends, which i can settle for and is the most realistic thing, but still i wish i knew for sure! it kind of sucks not knowing if i even had a chance, y’know?”

“had a chance with who?”

jongseob freezes and shota sputters out a suffocated laugh at the timing.

you were standing right behind him and he didn’t know for how long you were, but he does wish that the ground would swallow him up whole right now.

“earth to jongseobie? hello?” you wave your hand in front of his frozen face, laughing slightly at his expression, “what’s up with him, shota?”

“i don’t know, he’s a weird guy,” the man answers with a shrug, making you laugh at the irony before taking a seat next to him.

“well, anyway! i listened to the playlist you sent me, let me show you some outfit ideas i have for us,”

“us?” jongseob echoes, wondering if he heard right.

”yeah, if we’re going together we might as well should match, right?”

shota looks at the two of you, completely worn out from how oblivious jongseob was and how shamelessly forward you were (whether you were aware of it or not was unknown to shota).

“right, right,” jongseob agrees, leaning in towards you and your phone screen.

“i think you have good style to begin with, so i tried finding something that would suit it. you’re handsome anyway, so anything you wear you’ll be able to pull off,” you ruffle his hair as you compliment him, successfully making him go red in the face.

shota once again wishes his best friend would open his eyes and end this tantalizing process already, hoping you two would just date already.

—

it was the night of the show and you and jongseob agreed to meet at a halfway point. the venue was a little far away, but nothing a pair of headphone and the bus couldn’t handle. you were currently binge listening to the playlist jongseob had sent you — you had been since he’s sent it to you — and were happily humming along to the song playing. if it weren’t for jongseob, you probably would’ve never discovered this artist, who actually suited your tastes a lot.

at the designated stop, you kept an eye out for him, grinning immediately when you locked eyes with him. his usually straight hair was done to be slightly wavy and that subtle change made your eyes falter and heart skip a couple beats. he really was so handsome. his eyes were wide, looking for you and when he finally caught sight of you, an excited smile broke out onto his face and it was so wide his eyes turned into crescents.

he walked over to you, taking the seat beside you and tried to control his excitement.

”how are you?” he asked first, trying to not stare too hard at your outfit and how good you looked. he was slightly envious, how you looked so good in everything you wore and how you naturally pulled off everything you wore. he also took note of how you both were wearing the same color-toned clothes, subtly matching. that only made him smile even wider.

“i’m excited, how about you?” you’re quick to throw the question back at him, smiling so wide it’s infectious.

“i’m really excited, i’m really happy we’re going together,” he says, nodding his head several times as he takes in this reality. if anyone had told him a couple months that he was going to one of his favorite artist’s concert with you of all people, he would’ve laughed in their face. this was all almost completely unbelievable.

“you brought your camera?” you said, motioning to the film camera that was strapped around his body.

“oh, yeah,” he takes it up into his hands, bringing the viewfinder up to his eyes and quickly snapping a photo of you. obviously, after the act was already done, you began complaining about how you weren’t ready.

“retake it, retake it,” you egged on, pushing him slightly back so it wasn’t so close to your face. he obeyed, leaning backwards and bringing his camera back up to his eye.

you smiled, holding the ticket up to your face and proudly showing it off. he smiled softly at how genuinely excited you looked, bringing the camera down from his face after he got the shot.

“your turn,” you say, gently taking the camera from his hands and bringing it up to your eye. “wait, how does this work?”

he chuckles at your question, moving close to show you how it works, nimble fingers pointing at the different parts of the camera, “here, scroll it to the right,” he says, watching you carefully, “and then when it stops, you can take the picture. just press this one,”

you get the gist, afterwards, looking up from the components of the camera and locking eyes with jongseob. you both didn’t realize how close he was until you looked up, making time freeze for a moment as you just sat there and stared at each other.

his brown bangs were slightly covering his eyes, but you were still able to see him so clearly. he really was so breathtaking…

“ready?” you asked after a couple seconds of silence, making him clear his throat and nod.

you pressed your back against the window of the bus as he leaned a little into the aisle so that he was properly spaced out in the shot. he held up his own ticket, pursuing his lips as he slightly smiled at the camera. the corners of your lips quirked up at his cute expression, taking the picture swiftly.

“it sucks we don’t see them right away though,” you comment, handing the film camera back to him.

“we can still take pictures on our phones,” he comforts, pulling out his own and immediately holding it up for a selfie. smiling at the opportunity, you lean close to his person, practically cuddled up to his side.

and even after reaching levels of comfortability with you that he thought was impossible, being physically close to you still flustered him. he liked it though, obviously. he liked you, so any affection you showed him was welcome in his eyes. which is exactly why he didn’t push you away or shift his torso from you. instead he leaned into your side as well, positioning the camera at multiple different angles for you two.

then you took out your own phone, taking pictures for your own camera roll. the last one you took was a silly 0.5 one that the both of you laughed at after seeing the finished product.

“these are cute,” you comment, scrolling through your own, “send me the ones on your phone!”

“okay, okay,” he complies, going to share them straight from his camera roll and sending them to you a couple seconds later. he doesn’t realize it, but his screen is clearly visible to you, meaning you were finally able to see what the contact name he had for you was.

you blushed heavily seeing it, forcing your head to look away to not be caught, trying to force the smile on your face down. instead, you took a comfortable resting spot on his shoulder, feeling a surge of confidence in your actions due to the revealed contact name.

jongseob’s shoulder stiffened at the bold action, but he tried to calm himself down to not ruin the moment. he looked anywhere else but you, not wanting to be caught blushing a deep red if you were to look at him. he didn’t realize you snuck one more photo in, smiling like a fool at your camera as your head rested on his shoulder.

after about a thirty minute bus ride, you finally were at the stop closest to the venue. you pulled the wired headphones from your ear, jongseob passing you the other pair, and both of you hopped off of the bus to walk to the venue.

you both weren’t particularly keen on getting there super early to be close, so the line wasn’t as long as you thought it would’ve been.

“wait, go ahead,” he says, motioning for you to keep walking without him. and you were going to question why, but then saw that he had his camera in his hand and wanted a shot of you walking to the venue, which had the name of the artist plastered in shining lights above the main entrance way.

he joined you in a couple of seconds, jogging up to your side and excitedly walking up to security to be let in.

you and jongseob were near the back of the pit, but since it was a small place, the view you had of the stage wasn’t that bad.

“this is so cool,” you say, stars in your eyes as you take in the environment. jongseob hums beside you, making sure to stick close to you to not lose you in the crowd. his arm hung loosely off of your shoulder, which made you more inclined to slot yourself into his side.

maybe it was the darker atmosphere and the fact you were in a bigger crowd now, where it was easy to hide away, but the both of you had gotten a boost of confidence in lingering touches.

jongseob didn’t think twice in holding you close to him and you weren’t as secretive in stealing glances his way. he didn’t feel as flustered and embarrassed as he usually did, which made him not think twice in committing to being affectionate with you.

he wishes he was like this all the time. capable of holding eye contact with you without looking away after the first five seconds. capable of looking at your eyes then your lips without feeling himself go red in the face immediately. a couple months deep into this crush of his and sometimes he was still acting like he hasn’t been seeing you everyday, as if he was still just admiring you from afar.

meanwhile, you were loving every second of this. seeing jongseob not hesitate in keeping you close and stare at you, it was infectious.

before you knew it, the main act had came onto the stage and now all of your attention was on them. jongseob’s arm left your shoulder to take a couple of pictures with both his phone and film camera, but he still made sure to be close.

the two of you were singing to your hearts’ content, sometimes breaking out into laughter at how horrid your voices sounded. but you were smiling and laughing together and that was all that mattered. the show went on faster than you both had realized and the singer was now announcing that it would be their final song of the night.

when the first chords played throughout the venue, you instinctively held onto jongseob’s hand and squeezed tight because it was the song you were hoping they were going to play. excitedly you looked at him to see his reaction, wondering if he was waiting for this song as well, but when you turned to him, he was already looking at you.

and you were happy you didn’t have the strength to look away because staring into his eyes as the song played in the background felt as if you were in the middle of a romance movie scene. one of those god awful cheesy scenes where the two love interests have the camera spin around them as they slowly lean in to kiss each other, or some other form of major affection. you almost laughed out loud at the idea of that being you and jongseob. not because it was actually humorous, but because it was so outlandish.

there was no way jongseob liked you back like you liked him.

that contact name on his phone was probably just a coincidence…

you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look away from his dark eyes, that were pleadingly looking at you, begging for you to do something. the moment your head turned in the other direction, though, jongseob felt a wave of frustration and immense emotion crash down on him.

it wasn’t fair. he wants to kiss you, tell you how badly he’s fallen in love with you. he doesn’t want to keep sneaking glances at you when all he wants to do is stare at you all day long. and with the way the lights are reflecting on you, the fucking song playing in the background, there’s no reasonable way for jongseob to hold himself back.

he’s so frustrated at himself for harboring such strong emotions for you, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

so he finally grows the courage to reach out and gently cup your face and force you to look back at him. he doesn’t give himself, or you, a second to properly react as he leans forward and smashes his lips against yours. it’s dramatic, desperate, and borderline aggressive, but it’s what he’s feeling — all those times he’s had to hold himself back from making you his. it was all released in this one kiss.

it took a couple of seconds to realize what was happening. and when you did, you could feel him beginning to pull away. squeezing your eyes shut to really bask in the moment, you brought your hand up to the back of his neck and held him in place, finally kissing him back.

the hand that was once resting on your cheek had now fallen to your waist, bringing you in closer to his person. his fingers were squeezing you so tight, as if he were afraid you’d slip away if his grip loosened even the tiniest bit. you were moving in sync with one another, hungry for that affection you were both restraining from each other before. your arms looped around his neck and you could feel him smile into the kiss at the action. it was infectious because now you were two smiling, kissing fools.

after pulling away, the world around you both was so fuzzy, the song playing being the only thing that you could sense as loud and clear. the both of you were panting from such an intense kiss. his arms were wrapped around your lower half while yours lazily hung off of his shoulders.

“[name], i really, really like you,” he says breathless, “even before you spoke to me, i liked you,” it was shocking to learn how long he had been harboring this crush on you, but you didn’t stop him from going on, “i’ve wanted to kiss you like that for so long,”

a weak bout of laughter was shared between you two and jongseob had to force himself to continue on, “please, give me a chance and be my boyfriend, please,”

you played with the hair at the base of his neck, making him shiver at the sensation while you grinned at him.

“you don’t need to beg for it. i’m already yours, jongseob,” you crash into his chest and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief, holding you tight. the two of you stand like that, rocking back and forth and just taking in the final song — that was now apart of one of your fondest memories.

after it was finished, you both pulled away and shared one more long kiss. it wasn’t as desperate as the first, but you could still feel that longing from him as he eagerly deepened it. the only reason why you two had to pull away was because the rest of the crowd was beginning to move and since you were in the back of the pit, you would’ve been in everyone’s way.

jongseob tightly held your hand as he guided you through the crowd, smiling so wide that his cheeks were hurting. the same could be said for you, too, as you followed him wherever he took you. waiting at the same bus stop wasn’t long and the entire time, you were just staring at each other with permanent smiles on each of your faces.

your hands were still intertwined, even as you sat on the bus.

“so wait, you knew who i was already, and liked me, before i even introduced myself to you?” you asked, grinning on his shoulder as you finally had the quiet environment to ask him about all the details. he blushed at the sudden question, using one hand to hide the bottom of his face.

“do we really have to go through this right now?” he asked, feeling incredibly shy at how close your face was to his (as if you weren’t sucking face a couple minutes ago), especially with that mischievous look in your eyes.

“no, we don’t have to, i just want to hear you talk about it.”

“so, you just want to have your ego boosted?” he teased, playing with your fingers as he smiled in amusement. you clasped your hand around his, chuckling and just resting your head on his shoulder. he leaned on the top of your head, wondering how things worked out so well.

it felt like something out of his dreams.

the man of his dreams was nestled into his side after seeing one of his favorite singers. kissing him during one of his favorite songs, finally making him his boyfriend. jongseob couldn’t help but stare out the window with the widest smile on his face.

taking in his surroundings, he cautiously reached for his film camera on his side. he could tell that halfway through your trip back you had fallen asleep so he wanted to be sure not to wake you as he took the photo. it was cheesy, but he wanted to have something to immortalize this night and the memory of it. he’d never forget it, he knew that for sure, but he wanted a physical token of what has happened and the deep meaning of tonight.

after taking pictures to his heart’s content, he simply leaned his head against yours and waited until you both arrived to your bus stop.

— a couple weeks later

“what do you have there?” you ask, rolling over in bed to look over jongseob’s shoulder.

there was no one home at the moment, so you were being as freely affectionate as you wanted. it had been a couple of weeks since the night of the concert and it has been nothing but perfect since. not only were the two of you finally out of school, making it officially summer (jongseob had passed his math final with flying colors, not to your surprise since he really was so smart).

the window was open, letting in the occasional breeze to cool you two off. but the both of you were laying in your bed, shirtless as you tried basking in as much cold air as possible. jongseob had told you he had something to surprise you with, digging through his bag with his back turned to you.

“i made sure to ask for two copies of each one,” he said, pulling out a thick envelope. your arms were wrapped around his waist, resting flat on his bare stomach and softly stroking up and down. he looked at you with a smile, presenting what was inside with an expectant look on his face.

when you finally realized what it was, you detached yourself from his back in a moment’s notice and took the papers into your hands.

“oh my god, jongseobie,” you gasped, taking in all of the photos your boyfriend had captured on his film camera and looking through them in pure excitement, “wait, i didn’t know you took a picture then,” it was the one of when you were sleeping on his shoulder. you smiled at the memory, fondly looking at your boyfriend and leaning in for a quick peck.

“you’re too handsome i had to,” he compliments, knocking his forehead against yours before pulling away.

“thank you, baby, but so are you — i mean, c’mon, look at you,” you squeeze his cheeks quickly while looking through the rest of the photos of the night. the memories were still vivid in your mind, “i like this one a lot,”

it was before you arrived at the venue, when you were riding the bus there. looking at it on a physical copy now, it was so obvious how deep your affections for each other were. jongseob leaning into your body that was unexplainably close to his, a blush on both of your cheeks, as well as wide grins.

“i love you,” he says quietly, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder several times over before resting his cheek against your warm flesh. you smile at the affection, turning back to face him properly.

it slips off of your tongue so fluently at this point, an easy, “i love you too,” directed to him and only him. and now you’re both smiling at each other like idiots.

— jongseob, who has a crush on you for the longest time and doesn’t know how to act on it. the type to ignore it at first, in hopes of it just dying down so he doesn’t have to worry about it since he already has so much on his plate. but once he realizes he’s in too deep, thinking about you in every passing second, he doesn’t fight against his feelings any longer. he’s content just being aware of them, not seeking for more in fear of rejection or ridicule. but once he knows it’s safe for him to show just how deep his adoration and love for you is, he’ll be as unrestricted as possible in showcasing it to you — eager to show you what he had been withholding.

"in the heat of the summer, you're so different from the rest. you know, you know, you know, oh oh. you know that you should be my boy, oh, yes, you know, oh yes, you know"

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 3

CW: angst, reader is a loner, reader works her ass off every day at the lab, fluff, neteyam being cute towards reader (even tho it still has weird vibes lol), mad jealous neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for depression symptoms (such as being moody n having less appetite than the usual), stalking, obsessive and toxic behavior, also TRIGGER WARNING for reader mentioning the word “suicidal” in an internal monologue (she IS NOT actually suicidal, she just feels really sad and mentions the word. if u read it, you'll know what I mean)

Not proofread. I'll do it as soon as I can ♡ I hope it's a good chapter 🥲 & thank u to everyone who's reading this fanfic, who left a comment in the last chapter and, of course, to everyone who asked to be in the taglist I LOVE Y'ALL 😘💕💕💕

Chapter 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mother looking at me

Tell me, what do you see?

Yes, I've lost my mind

(...)

Will I ever be free?

Have I crossed the line?

All the things she said, running through my head

All the things she said (t.A.T.u)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You woke up feeling like crap that morning.

Your last shift had been so demanding. You had to cook just so much food that you started to wonder if there was anything left in the pantry. You had gone into that room just so many times yesterday to get ingredients and kitchen utensils, your legs felt heavy and sore now, as you stretched them in your small bed.

There were just too many people to eat in that damn laboratory.

Meanwhile you, the cook, barely had any time left to eat. There was always just so much work to do. So many dishes to wash, so many vegetables and meat to cut, bread to prepare from scratch... Your head hurt just thinking about it.

You felt so stressed out that you preferred to unwind a little instead of eating, sometimes. You would find a quiet place, sit somewhere, put your headphones on and press play on one of your many curated playlists or in one of your favorite songs. Listening to music seemed to work like a medicine to your wounds and, going to the cafeteria and having to socialize, to have people all around you felt too much, so, you just tried to avoid it. You even started to lose a little weight because of it. Nothing too much, though. You were only slightly thinner than you used to be. But in the back of your head, there was always a voice saying "Please, take better care of yourself...". Despite knowing that voice was right, you were too tired and apathetic to care.

Ever since you started to Dreamwalk, it was like your whole world had changed. That old life you led did not seem to be enough anymore. It never was, in the first place. It could never compare to the heightened senses you had when you were in your Avatar, helping you smell and hear everything better.

The first time you spent a whole afternoon running alone through the Pandoran forest next to Hell's Gate, you felt alive like you had not felt in years.

But nothing gold can ever stay. Way sooner than you expected, you had to be awakened from that magical dream. Everytime you came out of the technological machine you had to lay inside of to be able to drive your Avatar, you thought "Damn! Why wasn't I born a na'vi? They're so freaking lucky to have such an incredibly beautiful Planet to call their own. If only Earth was still as beautiful as it used to be..."

When you were not in one of your free days, you would always work until you felt exhausted and fed up with everything. It was not a walk in the park to be a cook. Even though you loved cooking since you were a teenager, when you used to always mix different ingredients and spices and create new recipes, this profession forced you to spend most of your time standing up and to have little time to sit and rest your poor fatigued legs. In some days, all you wanted was to sleep for 12 hours straight. And God knows you were capable of actually doing that.

Not a long time ago, you slept so much that, when you eventually woke up, it was 2 pm and you almost got fired from the lab when you finally showed up at the kitchen you were supposed to be in since 6 am.

You promised yourself you would never do that again. You just could not afford to lose that job. And you wanted to cry just thinking about not being able to Dreamwalk anymore. Exploring Pandora was the peak of your life, currently. It was when you felt high as a kite. As funny as it sounded, it was true. You felt euphoria run through your body everytime you got to have blue skin and be over 8 feet tall.

You liked to cook and was good at it, but, you were a smart, intelligent girl who knew much more than people thought you did. Unfortunately, you could not manage to get a higher position at the lab. Your forte was not sciencey stuff. It was subjects like Human History, Languages, Philosophy... At best, you got to use your language learning skills to learn basic na'vi fast and was able to get an Avatar from the lab. At least that was a good thing that your tiring job provided you. God knows that privilege was one of the few things keeping you alive. You goddamn hated you life, your job, everything... All your days seemed to be the same. Same chores, same annoying people... Most scientists did not try to hide that they did not see you as an equal. Even though they were always really polite to you, they would not let you in in their little groups, in their upbeat conversations through the laboratory corridors. You could count in one hand how many of them used to talk to you with genuine interest in hearing what you had to say.

You sat every day next to the less valued lab employees: janitors, cleaning ladies, other cooks just like you and so on. Your race had never been good at realizing the worth that these hardworking people had, anyway. Why would they do it now? You thought it to be so sad...

Those employees were nice regular people. Even thought some of them were idiots and treated you badly, there are people who behave like that anywhere. You were thankful that most of them were polite to you and treated you well enough. You also had a close friendship with one of the female employees, a cute, humble and really kind girl called Crystal. But she was your only actual friend. You did not remember the last time you had made an actual effort to make a friend, to be nice to someone in hopes you could get to know them better and they could become a part of your life. You had to admit you had been really grumpy lately.

You could easily blame such moodiness on your lack of will to keep living that life you currently had. It’s not that you were suicidal, it's just that you wished you could live a better life.

There was also Derek, the tall, cute boy you would make out with every now and then. You did not have a proper name for your relationship with him. He was always lovely towards you and you two would have really interesting conversations together and sneak around to kiss each other and do other types of heated stuff (though you never had sex with him) anytime you both felt like it. But it did not happen that often, anyway. You did not put much thought into it, to be honest. Derek was just a friend you would fool around with. You could not be farther from being in love with him or anything of sorts.

After another tiresome day, you walked fast towards your room. All you could think about was how nice and cozy your bed would feel when you would lay your body on it. Only five minutes after you finally laid down, you fell asleep. Slumber had been bugging you all day. Lately, it had always been like that.

They say you have to be careful what you wish for. That your words and thoughts have power over what happens to you. And you learned it the hard way.

In one of your infamous busy but boring afternoons, something unexpected happened to you.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a na'vi young man appeared outside of your glass window and tapped slightly on it. You almost choked on your own saliva when you saw that huge, blue creature staring at you with wide yellow eyes. A scream got stuck right in the middle of your throat, since you got so startled you could not get your vocal chords to obey the command your brain was sending them. What the hell was that na'vi doing in front of the laboratory? They did not use to come to Hell's Gate. And why was he looking at you through the kitchen window?

The na'vi boy just would not stop staring at you. His gaze was so intense it made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. Suddenly, he pointed to the left. The big, ample door that led to the open area in front of the room you worked in was right at the same direction his four fingered hand was pointing to. You realized he was signaling to you that he wanted to see you outside of the lab.

You started to say, in your own mind: "What kind of weird situation is this?"

"Please?" You heard the alien plead in fluent English (he only had a typical na'vi accent), his voice coming through the narrow gap that existed between the glass and the window frame. His eyes reminded you of the eyes of a small kitten asking for food.

You got surprised by the fact that he was able to speak English. You wondered why he had learned it and who taught him the language.

You tried to reach for the door to try and inform someone that there was a na'vi around and ask if anybody knew who he was when you heard the alien say:

"Don't go, please! I just want to talk to you! I'm not gonna hurt you."

Your back was turned to him. When you turned around, he was smiling.

"It's incredible how you're even prettier up close."

"I'm sorry?!" You answered

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Neteyam. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. It's really nice to meet you." He was still smiling.

That name was familiar, Neteyam te Suli... Oh, of course! Neteyam was the son of the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, Jake Sully. He was very famous between the na'vi and the humans.

Neteyam Suli was one of the most feared na'vi warriors out there. A great archer and very skilled with the knives the Omatikayas made themselves, he fought fearlessly against the recoms, including Colonel Miles Quaritch, an old enemy of his father. Quaritch used to lead the RDA soldiers when he was human, before being "revived" and given an Avatar body. He died in battle against the na'vi. But that did not mean that there was finally peace between humans and the na'vi race.

But why in hell was Neteyam Suli trying to talk to you? It is not like the na'vi liked the humans. On the contrary, they despised your race.

"Uhmm... okay. Nice to meet you..." You tried to be polite and peaceful towards the na'vi boy, like you were advised to be by your teachers, back when you were studying and training to get your Avatar "But I'm sorry, what did you say? That I'm prettier up close?" Your brows were furrowing, your face full of confusion. Despite all, you were calmer now that you knew you could communicate with him in English. Your na'vi was not the best out there.

"Yes." Neteyam's big amber eyes shone when he looked at your face. You were beyond dazed. "I've seen you before. Many times actually. But only from far away. It doesn't compare to seeing you right next to me." His voice had a weird warm feeling in it, like he was already acquainted to you. But how could it be? You did not even know who he was before he revealed his identity to you.

"When did you see me...?" Your mouth was slightly opened, so bewildered you felt

"Don't you wanna come outside so we can talk better?" He said, seeming excited.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm good, thanks." Neteyam looked sad after you declined his offer.

"Why not? I told you, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He smiled faintly. You could tell he was hurt by your blunt answer.

It pained you to act like that towards him. You admired the na'vi so much. Damn, you even would choose to be born a na'vi if you somehow could go back in time, before you were inside your mother's womb and you could talk to Eywa herself. But how were you gonna trust him? There were some na'vi out there, his mother, for example, that hated humans with such a boiling passion. What if he took after his mother? You would be in trouble if he tried to kill you. Even though the na'vi were a peaceful by nature race, everyone has a limit, so, you had to be careful when interacting with them. You learned about all the genocide your kind had committed against his kind while simultaneously destroying his Planet slowly, in a cruel, despicable way. You honestly understood the contempt the na'vi felt when it came to humans.

You looked at Neteyam with honesty in your eyes and said:

"Please don't take this the wrong way but I can't really trust you. I know you told me you're not gonna hurt me, but, I'm still human. How can I know you trust me, to begin with?"

"I trust you because you're different. You're nothing like the others from your kind. You're more like my people. And I love that about you." Neteyam said, smiling at you.

"Can you please just tell me how do you know me? Because I've never seen you before. I've only heard about you because you're the Olo'eyktan's eldest son and Olo'eyktan to be. But you talk to me like you somehow... know me. I'm really confused, Neteyam." He felt his heart race when he heard you pronounce his name. Your voice sounded so sweet to his sensitive na'vi ears, making him move them somewhat to the sides. It was the same voice he heard in the forest, when he watched you talk to yourself saying how beautiful you thought some yellow, bioluminescent flower that you saw in the grass was.

"You're a Dreamwalker. I've seen you around. I love how much you seem to appreciate and respect my Planet instead of destroying it like the others from your kind do. That's why I think you're more na'vi than human." He chuckled happily and you got confused by his last sentence.

You had to admit he looked cute when his fangs escaped from under his upper lip whenever he smiled or chuckled. But you felt so weird thinking that.

"I'm more na'vi than human?" You were intrigued "What do you mean?" You laughed a bit and he continued on staring at you in an intense manner.

Neteyam heard footsteps approaching, so, he started to move just so he could hide. He did not want any other human but you seeing him. He knew he could not trust them as he could trust you.

"Wait! Where are you -" before you could finish your words, he was already gone.

The brown wooden door behind you opened and Derek appeared carrying a pile of plates in his arms.

"Hey, cutie." He walked towards the sink, leaving the dirty dishes there to be washed by himself when he would be back in the kitchen.

"Hi, Derek." You smiled faintly. You were still recovering from that odd interaction you had with Neteyam Sully.

Derek came close to your ear and whispered:

"Feel like meeting me tonight? I miss you." You sighed

"I don't know... I'm not really in the mood, sorry." You answered, uninterested

He got a little surprised by your answer and moved his eyebrows up, making wrinkles appear in his forehead but quickly remembered he had much work to do outside, so, he walked towards the door and got out of the room without saying another word to you.

Neteyam was still out there, next to the window, leaning against the wall. He was listening to the conversation the whole time. He had to use all the self control he learned to have with the years to not hiss when he heard that human call you "cutie" and ask if you wanted to meet him tonight. Who was he, anyway? And why was he saying he missed you? Neteyam had never seen you show any sign that he was your mate before. He had to find out what was going on. Neteyam would not let anyone get between the both of you. It would not be a weak human male that would be the obstacle that would make him give up on his future mate. He was used to challenges and was not afraid of another one. That would probably even be fun. Neteyam could imagine that tiny mate of yours shivering in fear when he showed him his big, sharp fangs.

Neteyam decided he was gonna find out who the hell that mate of yours was. He was sure he was not better than him. That human male would never be as strong as he was. That human would never be able to hunt fresh food for you, walking through the forests of Pandora and confronting big, dangerous animals, like Neteyam would. He knew he outbraved that human. He could never be a good mate to you like Neteyam could be. You deserved better than him.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @xxunnie @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri

I tagged some of you that did not ask to be tagged but left really cute comments on the last chapter that made my heart feel warm 💓 if u don't wanna be tagged, just lemme know

Also, if someone wants to be added to the taglist too just leave a comment below saying that 🤍

[penny-anna]

been reading a lot of Owl House fanfic lately & have some Hunter Thoughts (long post + cw for discussion of child abuse):

run into the take a couple of times now that the other Coven heads (in particular well-meaning characters like Darius & Raine) should have done more to help Hunter. and while i do agree that uhh almost every adult in the show let Hunter down i have 2 responses to that

FIRSTLY: i could be wrong (i watched s2 in a pretty choppy manner) but i don't think there's any indication that Hunter's abuse is happening anywhere other than behind closed doors. it's very possible that the outward image of Hunter & Belos's relationship is 'this is the emperor's special favourite nephew who he dotes upon'.

it's like. self-evidently the case that Hunter is being neglected emotionally but probably no-one had any reason to think he was in physical danger. remember that most people were under the impression that Belos was a benevolent ruler & the minority who'd figured out what his game could have reasonably assumed that for all his faults he wouldn't hurt Hunter.

Darius expresses concern about his social life but seems to read uhh nothing whatsoever into this interaction:

which suggests to me that he hasn't seen any prior indication of physical abuse & just assumes Hunter is being very dramatic!

(side note i just noticed Flapjack covering his eyes with his wings gdlkjfhglfjh omg Flapjack)

& all of this is very plausible! let's face it not all abusive parents IRL give off obvious red flags to anyone external to the situation.

SECONDLY: to be blunt, the position Belos put Hunter in was such that i don't know if anyone could have helped even if they wanted to.

Hunter being elevated to the position of Head of the Emperor's Coven is clearly an unusual move & one that was made in direct response to Lilith defecting. It's a clear signal that Belos doesn't trust his remaining Coven Heads and wants to keep a closer eye on them. they have good reason to believe that the Golden Guard could u know. report any of them to Belos as a Traitor at any time.

whether Belos would actually automatically believe him is another matter but like, as stated above, they don't know how Belos treats Hunter behind closed doors. for all they know one word from Hunter could get them idk petrified.

their behaviour towards him isn't nice but his presence is both threatening and also kind of insulting. he's wrapped up in the internal politics of the court in a way that makes it difficult to anyone to respond to him with anything other hostility. which is uhh not a position Belos should ever have put his 16 year old ''''nephew'''' into.

for all Darius knows if he starts being nice to the Golden Guard & relaxes in his presence he's gonna end up saying something that'll get back to Belos. he doesn't let down his guard around Hunter until seeing u know. multiple clear signals that he's actually willing to lie to Belos.

like. Hunter is dangerous! bcos we as the audience are so familiar w this Hunter:

easy to forget that most people in the Boiling Isles only know this guy:

he's a very real threat to everyone around him by virtue of being the emperor's Right Hand! just look at how Odalia reacts to him showing up:

people are actively afraid of the Golden Guard & him being 16 doesn't make him any less of a deadly threat. he's functionally untouchable. trying to suggest that hey, maybe the head of the police force shouldn't be a 16 year old boy is liable to get you thrown in the conformatorium.

like. even if someone did put together that Hunter was in danger from Belos what are they gonna do about it? u can't exactly call social services on the God Emperor.

[ribena59p]

I've seen a lot of people try to paint Orcatstra / Maowzarts as problematic, and I believe much of it stems from misinformation or misunderstandings, often because it's being spread through word of mouth. I'm not making this post because Orcatstra asked me to—because they didn’t. No one is forcing me to write this; I'm doing it of my own free will. I really hope that #orcatstrahaters will take the time to read this carefully before dismissing it just because Orcatstra is my friend. I'm writing this to clear up the misinformation surrounding them, as I’ve seen people unfairly group them with genuinely problematic figures like Mawthe (who, by the way, draws necro art!!!).

Yes, there have been times when Orcatstra could have handled situations better (I'll try to keep my personal opinions on those situations brief), but let’s not forget—they’re 17! Some people seem to think that just because they’ll be 18 in a few months, they’re suddenly supposed to be all-knowing. Meanwhile, others are excusing or even babying older individuals like Criminalx3 and Parsnipling, both of whom, to my knowledge, are in their twenties! THEY should know better.

(Because someone asked) I bring up Parsnipling because they were called out for posting a fanfic where Dave from DSAF had animal genitalia (a cloaca). They then accused me of being the reason people sent them death threats, even though all I did was share a thread showing what they had posted. I didn’t even tell anyone to block them. Parsnipling lied to me, claiming that the tags with "cloaca" were meant as jokes. Afterward, they left Twitter (due to death threats, unfortunately) and went back to Tumblr, where they posted about how fandoms used to be spaces for "freaks." Take that as you will.

(I’m not debating the morality of referring to non-human genitalia with animal terms. Personally, I find it strange, which is why I made the thread in the first place—to draw attention to it. People are free to come to their own conclusions and decide whether to block or avoid interacting with them as they see fit.)

This post isn’t made to say you can’t..not Like orcatstra as a person..cus u can…everyone can dislike anyone for any reason just to reiterate this is just made to clear up misinfo

I exclusively use they/them pronouns for Orcatstra in this post specifically so that people don’t get confused about who I’m referring to, but please keep in mind when discussing them that they use any pronouns (besides from she).

The main points for why people deem orcatstra as problematic (that I’ve seen) are:

* Running a 15 year old off of their own tumblr blog

* Accusing a rape victim of liking and supporting rape + accusing the same person of being a groomer

* Comparing phone x Jack to slave x slave owner

* Blocking people for shipping things that they don’t like

I’ll be going through these one by one and explaining what happened to my knowledge.

Running a 15 year old off of their own tumblr blog

The 15-year-old in question ran a DSAF confessions account, where they posted anonymous confessions from people within the DSAF community. These confessions were typically related to DSAF topics.

I've seen people claim that Orcatstra harassed this person because their blog posted confessions about people disliking Davesport. However, that's completely inaccurate—Orcatstra doesn't, and never did, care if people dislike Davesport, so that part of the accusation is blatantly false.

(This is Orcatstras own words)

“I didn’t like harass them to the point they had to quit at most I made like 2 posts publicly and kept the rest of my disdain of a confessions account private”

“and I only disliked them 1) bc they’re a confess account which is inherently made to post and stir up drama like what. and 2) they DID post stuff that would cause drama so I was like dawg wtf”

“and then ppl from that blog started harassing ME 😭😭😭IN MY ANON ASKS 😭😭”

“Not (the 15 year old) I think but just ppl who followed the blog or were one of the “anons””

I believe some people are upset because Orcatstra was venting about the account on their private account, but I’m not really sure why... They're mad about that? Orcatstra’s private account only has about 50 followers, and most of those are people who follow with both their main and private accounts.

“I also think ppl were mad because I made a (admittedly dramatic) post talking about why I didn’t like the confessions account ,, but again from what I remember the points were just the og mod posting stuff that’s clearly gonna stir the pot YKWIM ..”

“and I only made that post because someone asked & for some reason you can’t comment pictures on tumblr which I think is quite stupid ☝️”

Accusing a rape victim of liking and supporting rape

(I do not know this persons pronouns so I will be referring to them with they/them pronouns, if they do not use these pronouns please tell me and I will edit this section to display the correct pronouns)

I believe the person being referred to is Cr1minalc1minalcr1minal, who has read and bookmarked non-con fanfics on AO3. Non-con stands for non-consensual, which is essentially the definition of rape. Orcatstra believes that if someone regularly consumes this type of content, it’s reasonable to assume they enjoy reading it. However, Orcatstra has never claimed that Criminalx3 supports rape.

“OH WAIT is it ok if i add that when i did point out the fanfic thing i genuinely was not aware at the time that guy was a victim, ..i dont rlly go on his acc bc i blocked him for my well being (i think thats the right way to use the phrase) … and i didnt/dont wanna be super creepy and stalk him. .. U CATCH MY DRIFT ..”

+ accusing the same person of being a groomer

(This is Orcatstras own words)

“So .. criminal ... I got this info from oomf so keep that in mind, but l've been told that he mains posts nsfw and encourages minors to consume nstw media and to my knowledge hangs out with one specific minor who changed ever since they became friends or something like that I NEVER! Explicitly said anyone was a groomer! ☝️ but it is very weird to see someone do that as an adult”

So they’re (minor and criminal) writing together but it’s not smut

“it’s not but like for a brief second we (orcatstra and oomf) were worried it was because. yk. that seems to mainly be what that guy makes 😓😓😓 (from what I’ve gathered)”

“And then I had to delete my replies bc I was replying on main and someone on tumblr (who does not follow (*oomfs) priv) took the links of my replies so I was like ‘erm what the freak this is kinda supposed to be a private convo’ and deleted them”

From what I understand, Orcatstra was having a conversation on their main account with someone on their private account, and they were discussing something about Criminalx3 that they believed to be true. However, it turned out not to be accurate. Unfortunately, someone on Tumblr took this conversation out of context and framed it as if Orcatstra was accusing Criminalx3 of being a groomer.

I don’t believe that Orcatstra ever made a public post stating that criminal was a groomer.

(I tried looking, but I may be wrong, feel free to correct me and I’ll edit this section)

Comparing phone x Jack to slave x slave owner

I believe this was stated in a now private youtube video where Orcatstra ranks dsaf ships, it may also be said in some tweets.

By definition, the DSAF 3 phone guys are slaves, regardless of the route. They are legally owned by Jack and work without pay. I understand that "slave" is a very strong and impactful word, which is why I'm personally hesitant to use it, but by definition, that’s what they are. You literally see Jack buying Harry in the DSAF 3 intro tapes. I've also seen people try to defend this by saying, "Well, Jack can be nice to them!"—as if that somehow erases the fact that he still owns them.

Blocking people for shipping things that they don’t like

There's nothing wrong with blocking people, even for no particular reason. It can be a little upsetting to get blocked over a post about a ship, but try not to take it personally—it’s just the internet. Unless you were doing something genuinely awful, Orcatstra probably blocked you simply because they didn’t want to see a ship they don’t like. They're just curating their online experience, which is totally normal.

And yes, people are bringing this up as an actual point against them.

I know that many people who dislike Orcatstra also dislike me for being their friend and sharing similar opinions. However, if you haven’t blocked me, please share this with others who might be misinformed.

There have been additional things added on by other people in reblogs if you would like to hear their side of the story.

I am more than happy to engage in neutral and respectful discussions, but I will not be willing to continue if you begin the conversation by being extremely rude or using offensive language. In any other case, I’m fully open to a constructive exchange of ideas, thank you.

[short-yandere-stories]

okay so---i read the lil fic of reader friendzoning sebastian and i saw your requests were open so here I AM-

Could I get a fanfic of Sebastian with a reader who ✨does✨ have a crush on him but ignores his advances because she happens to have a rather low self-esteem and simply "doesn't want to get the wrong idea" —if possible? if you can't either way it's cool .u.

I am so glad you're here! :D And hoo boy I can recognize myself in that for sure and this would 100% be me hands down. Also sorry for the tiiiiime this has taken meeeeee ugh life is. Annoying. Something I do know for certain, however, is that a yandere Sebastian would not stand for any low self-esteem. Especially not from someone as wonderful and perfect as you.

This can be read as a standalone thing or sort of a continuation of the last one!

Yandere is mainly at the very end because it became just so nice and soft and aaaaahh

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

SFW, no major TW/CW, but mentions reader with low self-esteem feeling insecure and disliking themselves. :✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Not Good Enough for Me?"

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Milady, are you alright? You've been staring through that window for quite some time now." Jumping at the sudden voice, you turn around, gaze landing on the tall, elegant butler peeking in through your door. At your acknowledgment, he takes a step into your room, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.

"You have not moved from this spot since at least about half an hour ago. I saw you standing there while I assisted Finnian in the gardens." You look away, nervously picking at the skin around your nails. "I'm fine," you say with a forced laugh. "Just got lost in thought I guess." Slowly, Sebastian moves closer to you, making sure that you can clearly see him at any point. He closely monitors your body language, ready to stop the second he sees you flinching or turning away.

"Is it about my confession during the afternoon tea last afternoon?" He asks, hitting the nail on its head. He has to keep a chuckle in as you wince. "I meant no disrespect or harm, I can assure you," he continued. "And if I have made you uncomfortable with any of my advances, I-" "No!" You yelp, cutting him off. You snap around to finally look at him, eyes wide in a panic and hands thrown up in front of you, waving in dismissal. "I mean..." you continue in a timid tone, cheeks heating up at your outburst.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable at all, Sebastian," you say, eyes pleading with him to believe you. "It was actually really sweet and it made me extremely happy to hear. I just..." you trail off, looking down at the floor, unable to keep his gaze any longer.

"I just don't think you'd want to be with someone like me." Your voice grows increasingly quiet the longer the sentence goes on, and even Sebastian with his demonic powers and enhanced senses has to strain to catch your words.

"What?" he breathes, confusion and bewilderment etched on his face.

You turn back to face the window, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of comfort, trying your hardest to keep the tears threatening to form at bay.

"I just... I'm nothing special. I'm not really pretty or smart... I'm clumsy and mess up, and I can't ever do anything right." Tears blur your vision as you try to keep your voice from shaking. "I don't know why you'd want to be with me," you confess, finally, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"You deserve someone better than me."

If he had a heart in the same way that humans do, Sebastian was sure that it would have shattered upon hearing those words. How had he missed your feelings in regard to yourself like this? The anger he felt aimed towards himself for missing such a crucial thing had completely blocked out the meaning of your words for a moment until they finally registered. You loved him. More than that, you'd avoided his advances and tried to push him aside not because you didn't reciprocate, but because you didn't think you were good enough.

In a flash, he's by your side, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you into his chest. Your hands weakly cling to his waistcoat, tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. "Sweetheart," he whispers, raising one gloved hand to pet your hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not noticing how you felt about yourself and adding to that burden," he begins, holding your crying form close. "But you're wrong. About all of it." You cry harder and try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"You are special. So very special to me, darling, you don't even know half of it. You have the most beautiful soul of any person I have ever met. I love every single part of you. I love the color of your eyes, the way your entire face lights up when you smile. I love your mind and the way it works. Sure, you mess up sometimes, but every human does! It has never once made me think less of you. If anything, watching you trip over nothing only makes me see you as even more endearing than before." Relaxing his hold on you enough for him to bend down and look you in the eyes, he continues. "I love everything about you, flaws and all. I wouldn't change anything about you." One of his hands wipes away a few tears from your cheek before gently cradling it in his palm.

"There is no one that could be 'better for me' than you. You're perfect in my eyes. I hope that I can make you see that too, someday," he whispers.

More tears flow down your cheeks, and for a moment, Sebastian thinks that he has done something wrong, but then your face cracks into a smile. "Do you really mean that?" you ask meekly. "Or are you just saying it to make me feel better?" Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Sebastian leans in and presses his cold lips against yours. For a moment, you're unresponsive, frozen in shock. Then, your hands grab his shoulders, and you kiss back.

The feeling of your soft, warm lips against his is something Sebastian has dreamed of for so long. He can barely believe that it's happening. Your warmth, the softness of your body pressed against him is everything he ever wanted.

Possessive thoughts flash through his mind, solidifying what he already knew. This was where you belonged. By his side, in his arms. With him, forever. He would make sure that your thoughts never hurt you ever again. No matter how many times he had to reassure you, hold you, and help push those negative feelings aside, he would.

You were finally his. You finally reciprocated his feelings, and Sebastian would be damned if he let anything -- your own thoughts included -- hurt you.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*: