#she got the hang of it when she got to the grass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 1 month ago

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Something Stupid - G.S.

Synopsis. Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends-to-lóvers, canon fix-it, PINING, dry-húmping, face-sítting (fem receiving), creampíe, overstím, PÚSSYDRUNK GOJO, ríding him until he whínes, no smút until they’re adults obvs, slight ángst, manga spoilers, found family, THE HAPPY ENDING WE DESERVE, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.6k

A/N. Tumby lemme post this pwease? What canon? This is the only canon I know.

“Catch me if you-”

Sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru doesn’t have the privilege of finishing his sentence - hell, he doesn’t even have the privilege of standing, apparently.

Because in the blink of an eye, his back is hitting the soft grass of Jujutsu Tech, followed very shortly by a bewildered you. Foreheads knocking together, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, his own wrapping around your waist for some sense of stability.

Years later, Gojo tells everyone that would listen - and anyone that won’t - that life became just a bit brighter ever since you crashed into his life that day - literally.

But right now, he’s opening his mouth to spit an irritated, “Watch it!”

It’s the first words you ever say to him, a shrill - almost hysterical - “Huh? No, you watch it-”

“Nuh uh, you-” Head spinning, shades skewed, it takes Gojo a few seconds to screw his bleary eyes open to the sudden newcomer straddled on top of him. And a few more to register that no, he wasn’t in heaven and hey, that uniform looks familiar. And, unfortunately, not even a split-second longer to breathe out something stupid, “I…I think I love y-”

“You stupid, moronic- wait what?”

The next few words out of his mouth are just as bad as the last ones, if not worse. Because yes he knows - for once in his life - that maybe he should just stop talking. He knows that even a moment longer with you is gonna turn his mind into more of a melty, honeyed mess than Six Eyes ever could.

Which is exactly what he blames when jumbling out a garbled, “Dinner tomorrow?” Wincing, Gojo swallows them back almost as quickly as he wished he was swallowed up by Geto’s rainbow dragon instead.

To your credit, you look a lot less bumbling than the strongest currently pinned underneath you. That look of annoyance on your pretty features melts into something of concern. And before he can dig a deeper hole for himself, you’re raising the back of your hand to splay out across his forehead.

“I didn’t think you hit the ground that hard but-” you raise a brow, head tilting to the side. “-I think you’ve got a concussion.”

Oh, yeah he’s definitely in heaven - that or actually concussed. Maybe both.

A low whistle sounds from his right - and soon enough he’s staring at the shoes of the other first-year he’d met just today. Low bangs hanging over his face, jostling with light cackles, “Haven’t they told you not to confess your undying love until at least the second date, Gojo?”

Nevermind, he was in hell.

“Ieri!” Geto turns towards the other girl, who was busy typing away on her phone. But Gojo could’ve sworn he heard the shutter of a camera coming from her way. “He was flown out of bounds, that’s gotta count as one point for me, right? And another for the pretty girl. You keepin’ score?”

She only sighs, “No.”

What’s a first day at high school without a duel between two of the proudly self-proclaimed strongest? And, of course, you - the fourth addition to their little group, hastily scrambling off of Gojo’s lap at the jeering laughter from above.

Dammit.

Later, he might apologize for running headfirst into you - might. Ignoring the pointed giggles, and the burning rouge at the very tip of his ears, to find out your name. And to make up some stilted excuse about how that was completely the concussion talking and he totally wasn’t serious about having dinner so please, please, please don’t snitch to Yaga about the impromptu matches taking place on school grounds…unless?

But for now, Gojo’s only lazily turning to look up at Geto, bringing a hand up to squint against the harsh sun beating down. Or, at least, that’s what it was meant to look like - “Technique amplification: Blue!”

He only hopes the property damage isn’t as high as what his poor heart had just gone through. Detention with Yaga be damned - and if by some grace of the universe he actually does end up escaping before he’s caught then, well, he’ll actually ask you out to dinner tomorrow.

---

Gojo Satoru is almost eighteen when he thinks that not even the Gojo family’s most expensive insurance will cover whatever curse you’ve casted on his poor heart.

You’re both well into the second year, and by now he’d been to twelve different doctors, five shamans, and Principal Yaga himself before Geto smacked him upside the head.

“Satoru, you complete imbecile-”

“Hey!” He fights out of his best friend’s grasp around the scruff of his uniform, crossing his arms over his chest with a whine, “I’ll have you know that I got the highest exam score last week, and I cheated only a little bit-”

Geto cuts him off with a sigh, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose, “No- you idiot. What do you mean you went to Yaga to girl-talk with him about your crush.” And when Gojo’s mouth falls slack, he’s smirking, “Oh- my bad, I meant your love-”

It’s said that Gojo’s gasp echoed all throughout the wooden corridors of the school - maybe even the entire grounds. Hotly, he’s sputtering out broken little excuses, “I don’t- what do you-” Before turning away to cool the burning of his sweetly rosy cheeks, “You’re the imbecile for spewing out such nonsense, Suguru.”

“Are you sure?” Geto turns to get a better look at the way those pretentiously expensive glasses fail to cover even the half of it. He’s never been able to, when it comes to you. “Because that’s quite literally the first thing you said to her-”

“I had a concussion!”

“After she touched you?”

And for perhaps the first time in the years he’s been wreaking havoc on Earth, Gojo is speechless. A welcome change for Geto, who mulls over in the silence while they loiter - very much missing whatever mission was assigned right now.

“I…” he starts, voice small. Pathetic, even. “...was concussed.” And before Geto can let out the same frustrated, dragged-out groan he often does whenever he’s around the two of you, Gojo’s plowing on, “But if I did lo- like her - hypothetically speaking - how would I even tell her?”

Usually, the other’s first reaction would be to tease his best friend. But at this moment he sounded so…young, painfully sincere in a way that was so disgustingly un-Gojo-like that he can’t help but cringe.

“Well, Satoru.” he muses, throwing a hand around his shoulder. “You just gotta…tell her my man. Preferably before that big mission coming up because I am not dragging your moping self around.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Gee, thanks. I’ll totally get on that tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome.”

BANG!

Yaga’s voice bellows, “Can you two stop doing this outside my office!”

And as much as Gojo hates to admit it, Geto was right - he usually was.

Well - perhaps not about the love part, but subconsciously, he found himself seeking out every tiny moment with you. Every second by your side - ignoring the other two bothers - was a new opportunity to just tell you. To break that thick solitude inside your little bubble with those little words. Ones that would go and spoil it all.

Not to be dramatic, but Gojo almost made a game out of it. Mouthing out the words whenever your back was turned - it started from “Dinner tomorrow?” to “I like you.” to something stupid that only gave Shoko aneurysms.

And, expectedly, “tomorrow” doesn’t happen to be tomorrow.

Tomorrow isn’t in your next class, or whatever mission Gojo tags along with you for “moral support.” Tomorrow isn’t the cozy little detention the two of you attend after catching Yaga’s interpretive dance routine - “that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen- even more than any curse.” you whisper fearfully to him, and he thinks he might just blurt it out right then and there.

Tomorrow isn’t when he’s just about to leave on some confidential mission with Geto, bidding you goodbye with a roll of his eyes and a hug he pretends he doesn’t like as much as he actually does. Tomorrow isn’t even when he’s baking in Okinawan sun, or strewn out bloodied and left for dead on the very grounds he met you on.

But oh how he wishes it was.

In that moment, incapacitated by Toji Fushiguro, and wondering where it went wrong, he thinks of you. Gojo thinks he’ll always remember you in every moment, and especially when they’re his last.

The Star Plasma Vessel mission and its aftermath takes up most of his mind afterward, even when he didn’t want it to. And all he can remember about tomorrow comes only a few months later, when an ashen-faced Gojo Satoru slams open the rickety door to your dorm.

“G-Gojo?” you sputter, sitting up in your bed. But before you can even think of reaching him, he’s crossed your floor in a few long strides. “Are you ok- mmpf!”

In an instant, he’s splaying out on your mattress, legs dangling off the end, strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Your first instinct is to snap something snarky - but every tease at the very tip of your tongue vanishes when he buries his head into your lap. And you feel something wet, something drench though your skirt heatedly.

“Is…” you’re gulping thickly. “Is everything okay, Satoru?”

Ah, his name sounds too perfect on your tongue.

“Suguru…” Is all he shudders out wetly, jittery hands looping even more vice-like around your figure. “He-”

It’s just about the only thing he can get out, and it’s just about everything you need to hear before bringing his shivering body closer. Quiet. Steady. Rocking the strongest gently, while you hum a wordless melody. “S’alright. S’gonna be okay.”

Now, he thinks. Now now now now - tell her. Tell her. But when a tear of your own stains his shirt, he knows. Hauling you in even deeper to his chest, he prays you don’t hear his thundering heart. Perhaps tomorrow.

---

Gojo is twenty-one by the time he’s dragging you hand-in-loveable-hand through the winding hallways of an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. Mumbling excited little mutters, and almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he was navigating the corridors.

“Sato- S-Sato-” you’re squealing out, grimacing at the tugging burn of your hands in his. “Toru! Where are you- taking me?”

Sheepishly, he looks at you over his shoulder, “Whoops, did I forget to tell you- I have kids!”

He doesn’t know what’s louder - your shocked shout of “What? When?...By who?” or the screeching of his own two shoes skidding to a halt in front of that familiar door.

“Well, they’re not mine.” Gojo sighs ultimately, with a hand at the door. And that makes you quieten down just enough to hear his barely-audible little whisper. Determined. Reverent, almost. “But they’re mine.”

And when he finally opens the door, just one look at the tiny, black-haired little boy and his sharp scowl is all you need to understand. You’re whirling your eyes back to his beaming gaze, oh, Satoru.

Only mere moments later the two of you - accompanied by a very begrudging Megumi, and his sister - sit by the booth of one of your favorite cafés. Embarrassingly, he finds himself sighing while watching you crack jokes with the little girl. Turning to the server to order for her - it almost felt like a little family. Oh you’d make such a perfect mother. A completely objective observation, of course. Completely. Unless-

“You’ll never do it.” a tug on his sleeve has him facing Megumi’s leveled stare. How the hell does a kid manage to look like he’s seen the monstrosities of the world already? Gojo blames the father.

Baring his teeth, “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Little did he know that all it took was watching him seethe whenever the waiter by your side was just a bit too talkative, a bit too lingering with his gaze. In his little reverie, Gojo had accidentally croaked out a low, “I-” before you’d turned those pretty eyes his way, only to choke back embarrassingly on every syllable. Gesturing at you to ignore his little mishap.

“Tell her, I mean.” Megumi hums. Taking a wizened sip of his milkshake, “She’ll date that waiter before you if you don’t tell her.”

“That’s so…so stupid.” Gojo whispers back hotly. “I will tell her.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will-”

“Boys!” Your scolding tone makes them both jump - mainly Gojo, however, caught off-guard. Who scratches behind his neck when you wag a finger admonishingly, “Stop arguing, we’re in public. Now, as for payment-” Before turning back politely to the waiter.

“See?” Megumi counters, back to appraising the last of his cupcake. “You’re such a loser.”

Gojo’s gaze, however, stray back your way, as he found them often doing these days. Only to find them already on him, scrunched into crescents with a smile and twinkling so bright that he could almost catch his idiotic gawking in them.

Very pointedly he ignores the knowing roll of Megumi’s eyes, the exact type he’s seen too much with Shoko, and Nanami, and Utahime, and Yaga - and every single being to come into contact with his almost-tangibly hopeless feelings for you.

Instead, slamming that shiny new black card of his down in front of him - with enough fervor that the tabletop jostles, and you jolt out of your conversation with the waiter.

“I’ll be the one paying for myself, and my two kids and-” His burning eyes drink in every shred of surprise on your features. “-my wife.”

Somewhere in the distance, Gojo can hear Tsumiki giggle, and Megumi smack a hand onto his forehead. But right now he’s too busy remembering the exact degree to which your lips curl up, the way you hold back a laugh at the waiter’s jaw dropping. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were way too young to have two kids of this age.

“He was getting a bit pushy.” you’d conspire afterwards, now completely full and fatigued after a long day. “Thanks for that, Toru.”

Gojo sighs, flashing you a megawatt grin. If there were ever a time he thanks his Six Eyes for being able to memorize every little detail - every little feature in this picture - then it would be right now. He’s reveling in the bittersweet perfection. Yeah, he thinks, holding up a sleepy Megumi in his arms, maybe tomorrow.

---

There’s actually been about sixty different times over the years that Gojo knows you’d wanted to punch him straight in his face - and he’s sure, at the age of twenty-seven, that this is the very latest one.

“How did you get hit, don’t you have limitless?”

He shoots a wink your way, “Maybe I wanted you to patch me up?”

You scoff, “You stupid, moronic-”

“-no-brained, glasses-wearing dumbass.” he finishes for you, flashing you a cocky smirk that wouldn’t have been endearing for anyone but him. Gojo makes himself more comfortable on the hard infirmary bed, “You know, you’ve really got to update your list of insults, sweetheart. I don’t even wear the shades that much anymore.”

It was new - as soon as you’d cackled at the idea of him being a teacher with perpetual sunglasses, he’d wrapped that blindfold around his head. It was a slight shame, frankly, he was always honest with his eyes - but what was more important was that change.

Sweetheart.

Sometime after you’d intertwined seamlessly into Gojo’s mishmashed little family, he’d taken to calling you syrupy sweet nicknames. It’d started out as a joke, you think - with “sugarplum” and “honeybuckets” and whatever grocery item he could think of, before turning into something very, very real.

Though, they still made poor Megumi grimace in disgust just the same.

“Zoning out on me, babygirl?”

Yeah, sometimes they made you grimace in disgust, too.

“No-” you’re rolling your eyes, putting a little bit more force than necessary when you dab the warm napkin at those tiny specks of blood on his lip. “Just hoping you’d shut up.”

Gojo hisses, eyes crinkling at the edges - and you can’t help but think of how much older he looked than the disgruntled sixteen-year-old that swore at you on your first day.

“What?” his snowy brows raise, catching the hints of your laughter.

You take a moment longer to bask in the memories, before sighing. “Nothing. Just thinking about when we first met, s’been ten years already, hasn’t it?”

Of course, it has - it’s not like something the great Gojo Satoru could ever even think about forgetting. He remembers it in every cheesy selfie from high school you show him, he remembers in each and every one of your laughs at his overused jokes - the same ones he’d cracked way back then.

“It has.” he’s settling on after a few rare beats of silence. The thick white sheets on the bed rustle as he grasps your hand in his, “And I think I remember that today more than any other.”

It was impossible not to, when you’d just met your best friend after ten years. When you’d just killed your best friend with your own two hands.

Your pretty eyes shine with all the tears you’d been hiding, “Yeah? Guess so, huh?” Without warning, you bend down to meet your forehead with his, gulping back heavily. You knew he didn’t just want to be patched up, you knew better. And you knew that even the strongest gets lonely. Especially the strongest. Your voice is strained, quiet. “Do you think he’s happier now, Toru?”

Truthfully, Gojo doesn’t know.

But he whispers anyway, “I think so.”

To soothe you - and himself - if anything.

His eyes burn, and he’s scrunching them shut. A lump forming in his throat, Gojo can feel his entire being just rattle with the sudden wonder whether you’d feel it just the same when - if - he dies. Would you ask if he’s happy, too? Thinking he did and had everything he wanted in this life - not knowing he’s searching for you in every one? This life, and the next, and each one after.

“Sweetheart.” Gojo mumbles, eyes widening when you’re raising your head to look back at him, as if he didn’t even expect the words to fall from his lips. His jaw clenches, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips like the rest of it was just threatening to wrench from his throat. “He- Suguru. Back in high school - before he��left- he told me-”

“Gojo sensei, where is the- Oh!”

The two of you jump apart as if it burned, and for Gojo, the angry split on his lower lip hurts infinitely less than losing your touch. Holding back a silent whine, he turns towards the dark-haired boy fretting by the doorway, “Yuta? Something wrong?”

“Oh, you’ve done it, newbie.” Panda’s deep voice sounds from behind the doorway, and he peaks his large head in. “Gojo’s got his serious voice on, should’ve just spied silently like me. I told you not to interrupt him and his wife.”

“You’re married?!”

“We’re not married!”

“Tuna.”

The room erupts in far too many voices, and before long you’re clapping your hands in that strict teacherly manner that Gojo teases you always learned from Yaga himself.

“Okay, that’s enough.” you call out, before turning to the newest first year. “Okkotsu, do you need help with anything? I’ll be right with you.”

“I…I really didn’t mean to interrupt.” he’s bowing with apologies, ones that you only wave away with a chuckled-out, “It’s okay, Panda’s joking. We’re not married or anything anyway.”

And Gojo doesn’t know whether the look Yuta gives him is more akin to pity or understanding - he prefers it be neither, which is why he’s covering his head with the blanket. Groaning dramatically until you’re turning your attention back to him.

You ruffle the amount of his hair peaking, and he has to screw his glassy eyes shut. “Toru, what is it that you wanted to say?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid.” His tone is unreadable, “I’ll tell you, hope- hopefully tomorrow.”

---

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart.”

You’re barely holding up the clingy mess that is a twenty-nine-year-old Gojo Satoru. Huffing and puffing in a way that makes his heart and his arms around you just squeeze, “It’s not an option. You know I have to do this.”

How he wished he didn’t.

How he wished he could grab your hand and run away from the fight with Sukuna, hide in the countryside of his hometown and build a new life with you.

It’s already been a hellish few weeks trying to get Gojo unsealed, and you can feel the last few months pounding at your temples. You let out a sigh, one that has him holding back a strangely giddy laugh. But before you can open your mouth to yell at him to not go - or more accurately, beg him until he doesn’t - there’s a tentative voice speaking up from behind you.

“Um…sensei?” Yuji’s wide eyes sweep over his two teachers, being at Jujutsu Tech for a few months, he’s seen everything there is to see about the two of you. He saw the way you smacked the strongest when he got too mouthy, the way he let down limitless just so you could smack him. He saw the laughs, the looks, the way you’d flown into a frenzy when Gojo was sealed.

Everyone saw.

It was like you were crazed, and right now, only a month after his return - you were gripping onto Gojo like he was the only thing keeping you anything but.

So, it shouldn’t be new at this point. But he still can’t hold back the wonder in his voice, “I uh- wanted to ask about your robes for tomorrow- but maybe I can come back another time?”

“Yes yes, come back another time-”

“What robes?”

You narrow your eyes at the man, and that sheepish little curl of his lips does everything but soothe your worries. He knew you saw right through him, you always did.

Gojo’s exclaiming out loud, “Well- remember Toji-?” He waves his hands around, trying for a slightly softer way to say ‘the sorcerer killer and father of our honorary kid, who just-so-happens to be on a rampage right now’, before ultimately settling on, “-the worm guy? Well, I just figured I might as well take a page out of his book and dress like him, y’know since I’m fighting…Megumi after all.”

It takes a few seconds of stunned silence for you to find your voice, “You stupid-”

“-moronic, no-brained, blindfold-wearing-”

“-dumbass! You remember what happened to him!”

He bats his long, long lashes at you, “Why? Would you get this heated if I died just the same way he did?”

“No!” Your voice makes even Yuji flinch, which in turn has you reaching over to pat his head, “This is not on you, darling, of course. But your teacher here-” And it was comical, almost, the way the strongest stands up ramrod straight at just a leveled glare from you, “-will be getting it when he comes back from the fight.”

Comes back.

Oh, as much as Gojo throws his head back with chortles, he can’t help the way his heart twinges at the very thought of leaving you.

And he can’t be sure of just how long.

“Ah, you talk too much, pretty. I’ll tell Megs how much you miss him.” You’re not given a second’s warning before you’re back in his embrace - more steady, this time. His arms securely around your waist, like they’d been twelve years ago and never wanted to leave since. Lips pressed up against the thundering pulse at your neck, Gojo’s voice dips just a bit lower than you’re used to. Breathing you in, “I will, too, y’know? Very much.”

Jittery, he could feel every slight tremor in your nervous fingers when you run them through his hair, dipping into the ends of his black blindfold.

“Wh-what do you mean? S’only for a few hours, Toru.” you hum. “You better be back or so help me.”

“I know…” he heaves out, only pressing you close up against his broad frame. “But just in case- I-” Gojo’s voice cracks pathetically at the end, and he’s instantly too aware of Yuji’s keen eyes still watching. Edging up against the corner of the room like he wished he could have Gojo’s teleportation powers right about now. “-have something stupid to tell you. So I’ll hurry home anyways.”

You’re pulling back to quirk a brow, “Why not just tell me now?”

How he wished he could.

“Because it’s stupid.”

Later, Gojo will find himself strewn across jujutsu hall with Yuji himself - the only one, other than you, he thinks, that can stand to be around a weapon like him right now. Listening to the hum of cursed energy in the air, he gets himself ready for the fight.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Especially now?” His student pipes up, suddenly, and Gojo remembers with a sigh just how uncomfortably in tune he is with everyone around him. Fearfully, so. “That you lov-”

“Because it’s stupid.” the older one grins. Such a sad, warmly smile - and for perhaps the first time, Yuji thinks that Gojo Satoru looks his age. “And I don’t think she’d want to hear it if I don’t make it to tomorrow.”

---

“Stupid.” you mutter, biting angrily at your nails. Hot tears burn behind your closed lids, and you can’t help but tighten your hand even more around his cold, cold ones. Limp. Like death. “You’re so, so stupid.”

There’s no response. No sing-song voice finishing off your insults, no large and ruffling your hair until you have to bat him away.

Gojo Satoru was deathly still.

Laid out on the cold mattress of his room, you’d bugged Shoko enough to let you move him here, knowing how much he hated the infirmary.

“Being so reckless- having Yuta use your body-” in your fit of anger, you’re whirling your head up. Only for the pang of regret and grief to hit you tenfold all over again - because like this, he was too statuesque. A pretty mask of pale, what you’d give to have those eyes wink at you once more. “-if- when you wake up, I’m gonna kill you all over again.”

They told you he was dead - there was no point in waiting. In fact, you were sure there was a grave dug already, it was just a matter of how soon they could get to you.

It was a strange thing, to be loved just enough to get a burial. In the end, it was lonely.

And so stupid.

And at times, you felt that way, too. But all it took was one visit to where Geto’s grave was, a few long hours sat by his side, and you knew you couldn’t let Gojo escape you that easily. Not after everything, not after what he hasn’t told you, yet.

“Just wake up.” you sigh, the defeat bleeding into your every word. You run your thumb over the pronounced knuckles on his hand, calloused and scarred from his fight. “There’s so much to hear about. Higuruma’s alive, Nobara’s alive, pulling off that eyepatch. Like father, like daughter, huh? And Megumi- I saw Megumi laugh today. Yuji, too.”

Silence. Only stone-cold silence. He didn’t even move - not even the barest twitch of a finger.

“I just need you to wake up.” Your words are tumbling out a mile a minute, distantly, you wonder whether this was how Gojo felt when he first met you. How he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop wanting. “Shoko’s mad at you, y’know? But I know she misses you, no matter how much she pretends not to. I know that Jujutsu Tech can’t go any longer without Yaga, we- I need you. Didn’t even get to tell you-”

It’s all croaked out into a deafening silence, at least if you were in the hospital room then maybe the pinging of the heart monitor might’ve accompanied you. But they’d pulled him off that, too.

Unmistakable.

“And I know that I…” You bury your face into the now-damp blankets, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

There’s only the split-second you take to snap your head up before lips are crashing onto yours - plump, slightly-chapped but something so sweetly Satoru. Before you can even think about kissing back, however, he’s pulling away.

Only to press hasty, chaste pecks again. And again. And again and again and-

Gojo kisses your wet eyelids, “I love you.” Your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips. “I love you I love you I love you- and you beat me to it.” Those strained little words strike your very core - because it’s unmistakably Gojo. Sounding anything but, they’re broken and wrenching painfully out of his wracking chest. “So I just- I just had to-” Big, strong arms wrap around your middle - when did they even get there? It pangs somewhere in your hazy mind that you’re basically hoisted up on Gojo’s bed now, “-to do exactly what I’ve been wanting to since we were like this, thirteen years ago. Everything I’ve ever hoped for.”

“Everything?” you whisper.

“Everything. Even the strongest has dreams, y’know?” And he flashes you that smile you’ve missed so much, one you don’t think you’ve quite seen in years. “Even something stupid like ‘I love you.’”

That makes you cautiously glide over your palms onto the planes of his muscled chest, lightly pushing away to take in all of him.

It was him. Alive.

Really alive.

“Gojo…” you whimper, tears welling up behind your eyelids all over again.

“Ouch. Really?”

“Satoru.”

“Hmmm…”

“Toru.”

“That’s more like it.” The circled warmth around your waist crashes you even closer onto every ridge and divot of his hard chest, into the sweetest embrace - the kind you really couldn’t be mad about after your best friend had almost left you forever. “Told ya I’d come back, sweetheart.”

You could practically hear the sunshiney smile in his words, and his entire hulking body shook with emotion.

“You’re back.” you breathe, dancing your arms upwards to wrap around his neck. “You’re here.” It takes only a second longer of being in his burning proximity, to catch that pearly white smile - tired, and infinitely harder than before - to have some semblance of rationality dipping into your mind. “-and- and we have to tell everyone!” you’re yelping. Moving to scramble off of his lap, “Oh- fuck, and they thought I was crazy. We have to- have to have Shoko give you a check-up and have Kusakabe finally ditch those funeral plans and-”

You’re being shut up by Gojo’s lips on yours again, slow and sensual. It’s deeper this time, and he’s taking the time to part those candied lips of yours, sucking gently on the very tip of your hot tongue.

“My funeral is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” he chuckles against your lips.

“But-”

“Tomorrow.” Gojo soothes, craning his weary neck to kiss your forehead. “We can do all that tomorrow. But right now, I just want to spend time with the love of my life.” His cerulean eyes just gleam with unshed tears and even more unspoken words, “Doesn’t have to be forever. Just right now.”

As promised, he’s petting up and down your body lazily. Kissing you until even smiling felt bruised and raw. But it’s only when the air grows thick, when the slight jostle of your body on top of his becomes hot, his own skin burning soon after that Gojo lets out a sullen hiss.

“Toru-” you pull away panickedly, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the nonexistent air between you two. “We should really-”

“No- no no no no. Please wait-” Hastily, he’s bringing down a jittery hand to his hip, the buzz of reversed curse technique flowing through his thrumming veins. Meeting your uncertain gaze, “I’ve waited so long. Wontcha just let me worship you right now?”

As if to prove his point, he’s bucking upwards ever-so-slightly. The momentum teetering you precariously on his lap, dragging the heated core between your legs down in such a sloppy drag.

You’re gasping when the very outer edges of your panties rub up against something so hard, and rotund. Feeling the wet squelch of his angry tip gush out in a dripping wet wave at the friction. “A-are you sure?” you’re stammering, trying to hold back the way your greedy thighs were trying to rub together. Only achieving heavy, languid gyrations on top of the rock-hard outline of Gojo’s cock. “How about tomorrow? When you’re feeling better?”

It’s a slow, steady rhythm. There’s a ringing schwf! schwf! schwf! of sopping wet fabric, and it was driving him crazy.

“Right now please- haaa-” Gojo’s tongue lolls out so sluttily to graze against your own, dazed blue irises rolling to the back of his head. His spine curves upwards, abs rippling with a harsh drag of your clothed pussy down his weepy shaft. “Whenever you’d have me.”

Almost tentatively, your hips roll forward. That flimsy excuse of your panties bunching up with each grazing rub, it’s all you can do to not just keen at the utterly delicious curve of his thick girth. Throbbing and twitchy under each of your motions.

He’s hissing when your underwear snags on the very divot at his thick head, sitting up on two elbows, “S-sweetheart.”

“No, Toru.” your palms are back on his pecs, easily pinning the strongest down with a gentle push of your own. “Jus’ let me do all the work, m’kay?”

Gojo wasn’t all too happy - and the sullen pout jutting on his spit-glossed lips told you more than enough. But he wasn’t going down without a fight - that was for sure.

“F-fine.” he grunts at a particularly harsh grind of your hips. Fuck, he felt like some animal, humping up into you like he was out of control. He could practically feel your puffed-up pussy lips through his pants, he could almost taste it. Two rough hands come to rest on your hips, grabbing and kneading a handful of your ass. “But then you’re not just hah- sitting there, pretty.”

And, shit, even like this, you should’ve known better than to underestimate Gojo Satoru himself. Because whatever he wanted, he got. The one thing he didn’t was you - and now, since he had you, too, fuck- he might just be going insane.

Not a moment’s wasted before you’re being so easily hauled up, up, up the entire expanse of Gojo’s body. Jittery body being balanced easily as if you were some type of toy, up from the slender curve of his toned hips, up around where his broad deltoids were spread, all the way until your cunt was hovering over his needy mouth. “Can’t believe I hngh- almost died without havin’ a taste of this pretty pussy.”

“Toru.”

“Sweetheart.” he mocks.

You shiver with each feverish puff of hot breath blown right onto your clothed cunt. And even more so when you’re feeling such a long, slender finger slide in through the translucent fabric.

Fuck, Gojo swallows thickly, bunching up your skirt. You were so sopping wet he could almost see the outline of his index through your panties. He slides the back of it slowly up and down. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the volume of your saturated slick collecting on his digit, just trailing glossily down to his deft wrist.

Mesmerized, your jaw falls slack at the sight down below of Gojo - cloudy hair mussed, cheeks all pink and burning a blushing rouge, tongue darting out to catch each stray drop of your sweet sweet juices. Drip! Drip! Drip!

“Oh- sh-shiiit-” he rasps, lowly, mulling over your honeyed taste. Sounding so awed, breath hitching when Gojo tugs your panties just enough to the side to catch a mere glimpse of your messy cunt. Glistening and winking down lewdly at him. “S’jus’ you n’ me right now, huh?”

You don’t know who exactly he’s talking to - and you don’t get to find out, because that’s all it takes for Gojo’s kiss-bitten lips to clash messily against your cunt - panties and all.

A soft swipe of his tongue glides the fabric to the side, so depraved, so needy that for that split-second he’s tasting you, he can’t even think of removing it. One taste of your sweetened pussy and he can’t even bear the thought of breaking apart, licking up in long, languid stripes that wet the very front of your swollen folds.

Just the taste of you had him palming desperately at the tent in his pants, rubbing up and down at a pace that matched his rummaging tongue.

The very edge of your tastebuds rub so deliciously in teasing circles around the corners of your dripping silt, your inner thighs.

“S-s’toru-” you’re letting out such throaty, dragged-out groans that send every drop of blood in Gojo’s body thumping to his achy cock. “Don’t be such a- a tease.”

You’re locking your glassy eyes with him and he feels like he could pass out. Groaning and smacking into your cunt, “Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- tell me what you want, sweetheart. Anything.” Your entire body arches into his hot mouth like such a slut, when he bullies between your folds. Barely flicking against the sensitive nub of your clit. “Everything. Anything for you.”

When you’re weaving your fingers deliriously through his silky soft strands, he babbles, “Oh fuck- yeah, pull on my hair.” One of his hands come down to grip onto your panties, pulling the fabric so that you revel in the filthy friction. “Use me while you ride m’face, okay?”

With that, his mouth is sagging open even further letting your thighs straddle the entirety of his face so easily. So close. So messy how he was carding his tongue from the very base of your pussy, up into your quivering entrance.

“Fuck–” you’re whining, grinding into his touch when he wraps his soft lips around your clit. Barely even easing you with syrupy, wet circles of his heated tongue before sucking. Harsh. Depraved. But so, so him. “Don’- don’ stop, feels too good–!”

You didn’t know if he heard you, fuck you didn’t even know if Gojo was even breathing.

Even if he wanted to stop - he didn’t think he could. Because he was so ravenous between your legs, forcing your pliant body into such smooth gyrations on his tongue. Silken, soft, such sultry licks of his tongue on your clit.

Electricity sparks behind your eyes when with a wet slurp! he smacks away from your pretty pussy, “You think- you think I can stop?” And he sounds so genuinely in disbelief, as if the very thought of it was appalling. Through heavy, lingering kisses and sucks onto your clit, Gojo’s managing to get out, “I can’t have enough. Fuck- please.” The very rounded pads of his fingers dig so bruisingly into the flesh of your ass, jiggling and kneading with every drag of your hips. He’s begging at this point, “Fuck yourself on my face. Rougher, faster, c’mon now. You can do it, my sweetheart.”

He was so fucking desperate, big fat tears almost welling in his eyes while he whined underneath you. Groping so obscenely at his sweltering hot erection. How could you not listen?

“If you say so.”

Using the vice-like grip on his locks, you’re managing to leverage your motions even deeper. Rougher, like he’d wanted. Every protesting creak of the bedpost was accompanied by a synchronized whimpering of ah! ah! ah! coming from both your mouths.

“S’it good?” he gasps, and all you could see was the flushed upper half of his features. And the lower half - fuck, though the peaks and cracks you could make out just how glisteningly wet it was with all of your messy cunt. His lips were just drenched, slick-soaked mouth making out harshly with your pussy through your panties. Trailing all the way down in a glossy sheen over the lower half of his face, dripping off his chin, fuck- up to his cheekbones-

As if that wasn’t enough, the massive palm resting at your thigh comes dancing down to tease around your sopping wet entrance.

If you were in the right state of mind, you could’ve sworn that you heard a sharp rip! coming from that poor tattered fabric of your underwear right then and there.

“Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- use that pretty voice of yours please.” Still suckling lewdly on your clit, his cheeks hollow out . Entire body just jolting upwards, forcing you to press down harder with your motions. “Use me. Use me.”

“S-so–” you mewl when his slender fingers bully easily past that first ring of muscle. So many cold inches of his digits, feeling around determinedly inside your heated, gummy walls for those sweet spots that will make you whine. “So loud, Toru-” you’re spitting, meshing his mouth even harder with yours down below. And you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt. “For someone that wants this s-so hngh! bad you sure are-”

There.

Right there.

Gojo Satoru had just crashed into the spongy cavern of your g-spot - easily, at that. And there was such a crazed, sloppy sting to each of his movements. Smashing in over and over-

“Heh…tha’s how I l-like it.” he’s spying up at your trembly thighs, the way his overworked lips were being coated with a fresh wave of our honeyed slick with each passing second. “Good girl- gooood fuckin’ girl–”

Hazily, you’re wondering whether it doesn’t hurt. Whether his weepy cock ached just as badly as it looked, how his tongue isn’t fucking cramping up by now.

But he goes on - like he couldn’t stop, like he was out of control. A greedy little push and pull, dragging his tongue all over until you saw flashes of white. Until you could only scream out his name like a mantra. Until you were cumming.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck- Toru!” your slurring out a mile a minute. Both of your hands now steadfast on his head, riding out your high all over Gojo’s pretty, pretty face. And he let you - fuck, he let you. “M’cumming- shit, feel so good. M’cumming-”

So good, so filthy that it made your toes curl, your hips stutter sloppily. Arching like such a slut, you could barely even see properly. Your breath was coming out in such labored heaves at this point, and Gojo wasn’t any better.

It was like he couldn’t stop, happily drinking up every single, sticky drop your cunt had to offer. Pussydrunken eyes drooping shut, unable to let out anything but satisfied grunts. The muscle of his tongue is just frenzied in eager slips and slides along your cunt - absolutely no rhythm or method right now. Sucking, licking, biting anywhere he could possibly reach.

“F-fuck–” you’re crying out tearily once the very peak of your orgasm fades, and all that’s left are a few overstimulated tingles being wrenched out by a greedy Gojo. “Toru, m’done.” You tug desperately on his hair - but even that doesn’t bate him the slightest bit. “S’getting too much- fuck-”

“Awww, too much for my girl?” he’s cooing, the words jumbling together in his drunken state. There’s a glossy mess of spit and slick drooling down the corners of his smirk. “Does this cute cunt of yours need a break?”

At your barely-lucid nod, it only grows wider. Smugger. “Too bad-” And Gojo’s just taunting you with a final, long lick up the very core of your pussy, “Because if I almost hah- died without her once, then you best believe m’gonna c-crawl back from death for ya each and every single time.”

It takes his strong arms - even bruised and battered through battle - only two whole seconds to plop you back down prettily onto his lap. Right over where his angry cock was just weeping for attention. And suddenly, it hurts without you. “So you’re not getting a break anytime soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Ha ha.” You’re rolling your eyes, “Very funny.”

“Mhm.” Gojo looks up at you through his white lashes, and you can only watch when he brings up his syrupy-sweet, glossy fingers up to his mouth. One by one. Sucking. Slowly, looking right into your eyes. It makes your mouth just salivate. “Got that right.”

The sheets billow behind you when you’re fumbling deftly with his shirt, all but ripping - tearing that stupid thing off of his form. Your skirt and top are soon to follow - his jaw clenches with the slight strain, leaving it in poor tatters on the floor.

“Shit- shit you’ve been-” his mouth just waters when your tits are released from your bra. Jiggling tantalizingly in his face in a way that makes him bury into it. “-been holding out on me.”

“Oh-” you let out, traitorously, at the first sight of each curve and divot along his milky sculpted body. Gojo Satoru was serious about dressing up like Toji, and no matter how much his t-shirt looked so sinfully painted on - actually seeing it was something else. “You’re so pretty, Toru.” You smooth your palms down his large shoulders, the faint scars between his pecs, his abs - that scar. Stark and large, Shoko had done her best work, but it still looked so painful. It must feel so, too, being sewn back together like some ragdoll. He catches the way your expression dampers - of course, he does. “Toru…”

Gojo winces when your fingers glide over that jagged scar. But if that was pain, then it was absolutely nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated fear when you abruptly pull your hands away.

“S-sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he cuts you off, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. All but dragging it - right along with you - to his still-healing body. “Touch me. Hurts more when you don’t.”

You’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter, and his poor, angry cock twitch. “Hurts me when you lie.”

“M’not lying, see?” With a low nod of his head, he’s gesturing you to look down - where it was unmissable.

Because straddled right in-between your pussy lips was Gojo’s erect cock - proud and so prominent, even through his pants. With the sheer girth bulging upwards you could feel your greedy pussy dampen over the cloth in anticipation.

“Well…” He’s throwing his head back when you knead your palm over the very end of his print, “I can’t quite see-”

Gojo takes the hint - and you have to bite your lip from teasing that it was quite possibly the only hint you’d thrown his way that he’d actually understood. But it was so hard to - not when he was this eager.

And, on those long, lonely nights, you’d imagined that your best friend would be suave, infinitely collected with things like this.

But, no, he was fumbling and jittery with his movements. So needy to please you that it takes you to help him pull down his tight, sticky boxers over the curving muscle of his thighs.

“O-oh fuck–” you breathe out, when he finally springs out. Sweeping up and down each and every long, thick inch of him - Gojo was as hard as if he was carved out of fucking diamond. Such a furious, rosy red at his leaky tip, glistening down, down, down into the most mouth-watering shade of creamy pink at his thick hilt. He was so big. Your thighs squeeze together in sultry need - with a slight tinge of fear. So unfairly pretty - even like this. “You’re- you’re so much bigger than I’d imagined, Toru.”

No sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re being flashed with his dark smirk once more, “You imagined this?” There’s a slight reverence to his voice, scared.

It almost makes you shy - and Gojo can practically sense the waves of embarrassment rolling off of you.

“Awww, come back to me, please, pretty- Please-” he purrs, cupping your cheeks. “I came hah- back, didn’t I?” You’re being jostled to and fro when he rests himself more comfortably on the bed, leaning back to admire you further. “And now-” Your breath hitches in your throat when he situates himself right in-between your thighs, the fat curve of his head so swelteringly kissing your folds. Drenching it in his thick precum, “-now m’never gonna let ya go.”

Fuck, you know you should heave in a few gasps of hair, you know you should relax, maybe even stretch your legs wide open.

Because Gojo was so fucking big, it felt like he was splitting you from the inside out. Just the slight push of his tip bullying between your folds has you moaning - crying.

“You- you’re so big-” Your nails dig into the plush of his pecs for stability, leaving neat crescent patterns that stand out redly. “S’like you’re reaching into my hngh- l-lungs-”

Just those words have him expanding even deeper, ruddying even more furiously. Gojo gets so much bigger that you just can’t help but sink yourself down his shaft, feeling your elastic walls contort so easily around his length.

“H-heh– ohhh-” he breathes out - baritone voice lilting a few pitches higher than usual. The hands around your waist grab you even harsher, feeding you each inch by fucking inch of his fat, pulsing cock. “You got me- so–” His hips thrust upwards in mindless little jabs, “-fucked up, right now, sweetheart.”

And while all you can do is whine and moan around his unforgiving cock, Gojo babbles on, “B-better get ready ngh- because I’m gonna be riiiight-” His thick index draws and invisible line up, up, up to somewhere midway up your stomach. Before pressing down. Brandingly. “-here.”

The pressure is enough to have your hips just slamming down with a wet smack! all the way to his hilt. The slap of skin-on-skin rings through the heady air and into both your drunken brains, making him just throw his head back into the plush pillows.

“Yes-” you’re keening, your fingers wrapping subconsciously around Gojo’s pretty throat to have him facing you once more. He was so gorgeous this way - blue eyes falling shut with pleasure, mouth bitten raw and parted into a soft oh! pale muscles twitching with each breath. So fucked-out already that it almost made you think the sight alone could have you cumming. “Look at me, Toru- hah- gonna make up for lost time, right? Gonna fuck me good?”

His answering nods are more than enough, but Gojo doesn’t just stop there - no, he’s putting in every bit of last strength he has to just hammer into you upwards. Meeting every one of your relentless bounces down on him, he just clashes into your ravaged g-spot.

“Oh yeah, my girl.” he spits, a twinkling trail of drool dripping down the side of his lips. Crushing you so tight to his hardened front, “Ride me- ride me jus’ like that. Fuck- thought I saw heaven on the battlefield but it might jus’ be this pussy-” Over and over.

The back of your hand ends up on his forehead, “I think you’ve got a concussion.” It was in every little touch - that “something stupid.”

At your surprised giggles, he’s rummaging your insides even more ferociously. Smushing the very end of his thick head against your spongy cervix. It was so soft, so swelteringly hot having him inside you. Clashing in long, wet glides against every inch of your pussy.

The stretch was dizzying - and if it hadn’t been for Gojo’s lips attacking yours, then you’d have let your head loll backwards. It’s like he was marking you from the inside out, bruising the plushy insides of your cunt to every ridge and thumping vein down his possessive cock.

“Spit on me.”

His sudden plea puffs out of his plump lips, startling you out of your cockdrunk little reverie. “Spit on me, please, pretty. Mmpf-”

Gojo whimpers - whimpers - when the thick wad of your saliva hits his pink tongue, and the action has him delving into you impossibly deeper. Planting two feet onto the mattress, he angles his hips into your tight channel even harsher. Grimacing at the slight twinge of pain, “Shit-”

“Toru–”

“Wait wait- please- let me-” Expectedly, he’s cutting you off frantically. Begging, pleading with everything he had before activating reversed curse technique more. “Wanna fuck this gorgeous cunt so bad- fuck fuck fuck-”

But you’re only grinding your hips down faster - all the way from the pretty pink tip of his cock, until your ass massages against his tight, cum-filled balls. Thwacking! against your skin deliciously, pushing you up to scratch your clit against his snowy pubes.

A few more unapologetic kisses up against your sweet spots have you blinking back stars, “Toru–” Your swiveling motions have him so hypnotized, following every move where his massive cock was disappearing in and out of your snug hole. “Kiss me-”

Oh, you didn’t even have to ask.

It’s such a sloppy kiss - all teeth and lips and Gojo grunting gutturally into your mouth. Letting you just use him like your favorite toy, fucking him until the bed creaked with effort and Gojo’s balls just smacked! angrily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers. Drinking in your saccharine sweet gasps when he dips down one of his hands to your puffy clit, rolling the soft edge of his thumb in slow, methodical circles. “You’re gonna be the ah- d-death of me.”

Your hand around his throat tightens, making his eyes just roll back in ecstacy. “Better not die on me just y-yet, Toru. Not now, not tomorrow.”

For this, you’re being gifted with such a tight squeeze of his two fingers around your sensitive nub. Wracking your body forwards - exactly where he wanted you, exactly where he needed you to smash his sobbing tip into your g-spot.

The stimulation is too much, and each of your pressurized slams down onto the sharp bones on Gojo’s v-line have him moaning. Bucking up helplessly whenever your heavenly walls drag sloppily up his shaft, like it hurt to not have each and every one of his heated inches buried inside.

“Well- then-” You’re riding him now just as much as he was fucking up into you, leaving a damp puddle of slick and dredges of precum on the sheets below. Gojo’s punctuating each word with a harsh battering ram, “Better- cum f’me soon, huh? Because m’not gonna- fuck-” His nagging tip jolts into your sweet spots as if being zapped with white-hot electricity, in such a sloppy staccato with his feverish fingers. “-fuck I don’t think m’gonna last long.”

You’re nodding your head, clinging onto him like a second skin. “Mhm- m’so close, Toru.” Biting down wetly on his lower lip, “-gonna cum soon.”

Just the thought of it has him keening, stuttering up so messily. His precum coats your insides even more slippery slick, so heated in a way he thinks he might just explode.

“I know, I know, sweetheart–” he’s simpering down in your tone, though his hips were anything but. Letting out some of the lewdest slurps that made your ears ring. “I got you. I got you, cum all over my cock, yeah?”

It only takes a few more mess strokes from both of your sweat-sheened bodies before you finally reach your high. Electricity thrums down your veins, your body arches so deeply into his. Bending into the perfect bow that has him spying down at your quivering folds, the way your gushing cunt expands and contracts through each and every one of your waves of pleasure.

And he’s fucking you through it so filthy, fingers toying so erratically on your clit. Still reeling, still smashing the very divot of his cock into your bruised g-spot. Again and again.

“Ohh- fuuuck—” Gojo whines, eyes scrunching shut. Strained. Depraved. “Fuck fuck fuck me- please, please m’gonna-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he’s stuffing your snug pussy full with ribbon after ribbon of thick, velvety cum. Potent seed coating your gummy walls in such a milky sweet gloss, the squelches from below are so loud. So soppingly wet.

The hand at your waist moves down to where your poor cunt was just bulging with all inches of his spazzing cock. Gojo’s thumbing apart the corners of your slit just enough that his swelteringly hot cum oozes out of you in a slow trail. Sinful.

“Oh my god-” he breathes, eyes unwavering. Hips thrusting upwards to push his cum up into you even deeper. It glistens opaquely down his length, forming a creamy ring at his thick base. “Oh my god love you- fuck!”

“Toru- m’so full-” you whine. A hand of yours coming up to press exactly where he had before, except now you could feel the nudging pace of his ruthless cock, the sloshing of Gojo’s seed all up inside you. “-really can feel you right here.”

“Tha’s the point, girl - my girl, should I say.” he’s pressing such a chaste kiss to your lips. And it would be swee - almost - if it wasn’t for the way Gojo’s greedy fingers soak themselves in the obscene mess from your cunt down below. Bringing them all the way up, up, up to his mouth. Suckling gently, “But…but you wanna hear something stupid?”

Your eyes widen, “Wh-what?”

And he only grins, “I hope you know I love you, sweetheart. Because you sure as hell aren’t walking tomorrow.”

A/N. Can y’all tell I’ve been widowed not too long ago? Anyways, last post before kínktober! I tried posting this on Sunday but it refused to work so pray for me this time y’all *SOBS* <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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chosok-amo · 2 months ago

Text

JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS

RYOMEN SUKUNA . . . your boyfriend got jealous because some underclassmen were helping you carry your bag.

warning. collage boyfriend! ryomen sukuna, cūnnilingus, mat-pressing, squirting, pet-names, established relationship, cum-play, biting, fingering.

wc. 11,3k

you walk towards the big tree near the field where your best friends and boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, are hanging out with your friends— toji, gojo, geto and choso. as you approach, their heads turn towards you, smiling brightly. It's not just you who catches their attention but also the two freshmen boys trailing behind you, each holding a bunch of paper bags.

“hey boys,” you call out in your honeyed voice as you arrive. “i brought something for you,” you announce, nodding to the two freshmen who quickly place the paper bags down on the grass. the bags are filled with snacks, drinks, and small gifts.

“thank you for being so kind to me,“ you say, turning to the freshmen and gently cupping their cheeks for a moment. they both turn crimson, clearly flustered and melting under your touch.

your boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, watches the scene with a mix of amusement and mild jealousy, smirking as he sees the two boys blushing and trying to keep their composure.

“you can go now,” you say, your tone soft yet commanding. like obedient puppies, they nod and quickly make their exit, casting one last longing glance at you before scurrying away.

as soon as the two boys scurried away, sukuna wasted no time in pulling you onto his lap, a possessive glint in his eyes. his strong arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer so that you're practically sitting on him. the others snicker, clearly amused by his display of possessiveness.

“and what's with the two boys, princess? the bag is too heavy you're afraid you're gonna break a nail?” toji makes fun of you. you roll your eyes playfully, a coy smile on your lips. “jealous, toji? need me to carry your bags for you too?” you tease. the others chuckle at your quick response. toji just rolled his eyes.

while toji teases you, sukuna tightens his grip around your waist possessively, his jealousy still very much present. he doesn't like seeing other boys looking at you like that, especially as if you're some eye candy. but he knows you belong to him, and he's going to make sure everyone else knows it too.

he grumbles under his breath about how the freshmen boys should've known better than to look at what's his, and how he's going to teach them a lesson if they ever thought about you again.

“well, there were quite a lot of snacks and drinks in there,” you reply, playfully defending yourself. “and besides, it's not like those boys were complaining when they were carrying the bags, were they?” you added , still trying to justify your actions. toji raises his hands in mock surrender, “hey, i'm just asking a question, sweetheart.”

as toji raises his hands in fake surrender, sukuna rolls his eyes at your attempt to justify your actions. he knows you're right—the boys weren't complaining about carrying the bags, but that's not the point.

he huffs, pulling you even closer to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you like a vice grip. “yeah, yeah,” he says, irritation clear in his voice, “but they were eating you up with their eyes.”

“oh, shut up, you big baby,” you scoff, shaking your head with a smile. your fingers softly pinching sukuna's arm. “they offered to carry it for me, and they seemed eager to do it, so why not?” gojo grins, joining in on the teasing. “yeah, the princess can't handle carrying a few bags by herself. she needs her loyal subjects to do it for her!”

sukuna grumbles further, his irritation growing as gojo joins in on the teasing. he scowls, shooting a glare at gojo before wrapping his arms even tighter around you, as if trying to shield you from their mockery.

“she doesn't need anyone,” he mutters under his breath. “and she certainly doesn't need some simpering freshman boys drooling all over her.”

toji barks out a laugh. “yeah, suku, why not just put a leash on her so no one else can touch her?”

“hey, i'm not a dog,” you roll your eyes, playfully swatting at toji's arm as his words. “besides, it is easier for you to say, you're not the one who's carrying the bag, did you know how heavy it is? i can't do it by myself,” you added. you adjust your position to wrap your arms around sukuna's neck before speaking, “and besides, no girl should carry a heavy bag all by herself, don't you think baby?” you finished your words by looking at sukuna.

sukuna's irritation begins to soften as you wrap your arms around his neck and address him directly. he can't help but soften at your touch, and your question makes him huff out a sigh.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” he mutters, his arms still wrapped tight around your waist. he can't help but secretly like having you on his lap like this, like you belong to him. “i just don't like seeing other guys drooling all over you,” he grumbles, his jealousy still bubbling beneath the surface.

choso rolls his eyes, a cloud of smoke covering his face for a second before he adds, “oh, please y/n, you're just spoiled little princess, even those bag as heavy as the feather you still want people to carry it for you.”

sukuna chuckle, “she's a gentle soul, wouldn't want to trouble her delicate hands,” he replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. toji merely snorts and rolls his eyes. “right,” he mutters, clearly not buying into sukuna's bullshit.

you pout, feigning indignation at choso's comment about you being a spoiled princess. “hey, i am NOT spoiled!” you protest, giving him a playful glare. “i just know how to appreciate good service when i see it.”

sukuna chuckles again, his hand idly tracing circles on your stomach, enjoying the feel of you being so close to him. toji rolls his eyes once more, a weary expression on his face.

“uh-huh... sure. keep telling yourself that, princess.”

sukuna grins at that, enjoying the banter between you and his friends. he can't help but savor the fact that they can all see how possessively he's clinging to you, how you're sitting on his lap like you belong there.

he tightens his grip on your waist even more, his hand resting on your hip as if to further claim his ownership of you. “yeah, she's spoiled all right," he mutters, "spoiled rotten.”

toji's eyes glint mischievously under his sunglasses as he glances at the two freshmen boys in the distance. they're standing a good distance away, whispering to each other and throwing furtive glances in your direction, their faces still flushed.

“they're still staring at you, princess,” toji comments with a smirk. sukuna glances in the direction of the two freshmen boys, his gaze hardening slightly as he notes their lingering gaze on you. his arm around you tightens possessively, a subtle warning to them.

“yeah, they look like desperate puppies waiting for scrap,” he sneers, his words dripping with disdain. choso and the others snicker, enjoying the show. “keep staring, i might break someone's neck today,” sukuna rumbled under his breath but loud enough for you and the rest to hear.

you roll your eyes at sukuna's protective and possessive attitude, but secretly you find it endearing. you're used to his jealous streak by now, but you can't help but enjoy the fact that he's so territorial about you.

you turn to toji, a playful grin on your face. “oh, come on toji,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal. “they're harmless. just a couple of boys with a crush, it's not a big deal.”

but you can't help but blush slightly at sukuna's possessive and slightly threatening tone, his hand gently tracing your waist as if to emphasize his claim over you. geto chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. choso rolls his eyes, clearly amused. satoru chimes in, “woah there, tiger. no need to go all alpha male on them.”

“relax, sukuna,” toji retorts, a smirk plastered across his face. “besides, it's not like the princess needs to do any heavy lifting anyways. not with all those boys practically tripping over themselves to do her bidding.”

“they're just some underclassmen from my class,” you explain with a shrug, “they offered to carry the bags for me on my way here.”

“oh? and you couldn't say no to them?” sukuna teases, his arms tightening around your waist possessively. you give sukuna a playful swat on the arm, rolling your eyes at his teasing. “oh, shut up," you say, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the smile on your face.

satoru grins, clearly enjoying the banter between you two. “yeah, suku, don't be a caveman. the princess is allowed to enjoy a little male attention, isn't she?”

sukuna's expression darkens as satoru teases him, his hand still possessively gripping your waist. he grumbles under his breath. “not from them, she isn't.”

you click your tongue as you turn to your boyfriend, “i just got my nails done? and besides carrying those bags alone from the parking lot and looking for you guys is a lot of work, don't wanna hurt my hands,” you pout while showing your boyfriend your new nails.

sukuna huffs out an amused chuckle, his gaze shifting to your painted fingernails. “ah, of course,” he feigns a dramatic tone. “can't have the princess straining her delicate fingers, can we?” he takes your hand in his, gently inspecting your newly painted nails with a smirk.

“they do look pretty,“ he concedes. “you're such a princess,” he teases, a smile tugging at his lips. “always worried about your pretty hands. but i wouldn't mind if you had asked me to carry those bags for you. you know, like a good boyfriend would.”

you give sukuna a cheeky grin, pretending to be offended by his comment. “are you calling yourself a bad boyfriend, then?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

toji rolls his eyes, scoffing under his breath. “jeez, you two are disgustingly cute together. get a room already.” choso lets out a low chuckle, and geto shakes his head. gojo grins, clearly amused by the whole situation.

sukuna's smirk widens as he looks at toji, his gaze dripping with arrogance. “jealous? can't handle seeing a display of affection between two people in love?” he retorts sarcastically. toji just snorts in response, seemingly not bothered.

“yeah, right. love. more like possessiveness. besides, i can't handle her, too delicate and too high-maintenance.”

“hey! I'm not high maintenance, it's hard getting an appointment for this nail salon, you know,” you are protesting, still pouting, “i mean you wouldn't know since you don't have a girlfriend, but okay,” you shrug your shoulder. toji feigns an offended gasp, clutching his chest in mock hurt.

“don't worry, princess,” sukuna says, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “i don't mind indulging your 'high-maintenance' habits. i'm the only one who gets to pamper you, after all.”

toji rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. “yeah, yeah, suku. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

gojo snickers, clearly enjoying toji's sarcastic comments. “oh, come on, toji. don't act like you're not secretly jealous watching them being all lovey-dovey.”

geto shakes his head, grinning at the whole exchange. “oh, leave him alone. he's just bitter because no one ever offers to carry his bags for him.” you just chuckle before standing up from sukuna's lap. “come on baby, let's get away from these losers,” you tell your boyfriend without giving a second glance at your friends.

sukuna doesn't hesitate, quickly getting to his feet and wrapping an arm around your waist possessively, pulling you close to him. he grins at your group of friends, a smug look on his face.

“you heard her," he says, his voice dripping with pride. "we're off to spend some quality time alone. try not to miss us too much, losers.” the others just scoff in response, some rolling their eyes, others shaking their heads in mock disappointment.

as you and sukuna make your way away from the group, you can hear their jeers and comments.

“yeah, sure. 'quality time.' as if that's not code for making out and being all gross and mushy together,” toji mutters.

“aww, they're gonna miss us so much,” satoru pipes up, feigning sadness. choso just grunts, while geto chimes in with a smirk. “yeah, right. i doubt we'll even notice their absence.”

as you and sukuna begin to walk away from your friends, his grip on your waist remains firm, his strides confident and possessive. he leads you away from the group, towards a parking spot . once you're out of earshot, he turns to you with a sly smile.

“so, tell me brat,” he says, his voice low and taunting. “enjoying all that attention from those underclassmen, were you?” you roll your eyes, but can't help but smile up at him. you know exactly what he's referring to, and you also know that this is his way of being possessive and protective of you.

“oh, please,” you say, feigning nonchalance, “they were just being polite, that's all.” sukuna let out a scoff, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “yeah, right. like they were just being ‘polite’ by offering to carry your bags and drooling all over you like puppies. they were practically ogling you.”

he pulls you closer to his side, his arm still wrapped possessively around you. he glances over at you, his gaze drifting to your newly done nails.

“but i have to admit, those nails do look pretty cute,” he says, raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “but next time, let me carry the bags for you. i don't like the way those dumb underclassmen were looking at you.”

you can't help but blush a little at his unexpected compliment. even though you know he's being possessive, there's something endearing about him liking your nails. you give him a small smile, playing along with his possessiveness, “thank you and don't worry, baby. i'll make sure to ask you next time. i wouldn't want your delicate ego getting bruised.”

he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his expression. “oh, don't worry about my ego, princess. i can handle a few smitten underclassmen staring after you. but it's my job to make sure they know their place.” he stops walking, suddenly turning to face you. he presses you against the side of his car, pinning you between the cool metal and his toned body. he leans in close, his eyes darkening with desire.

you feel a shiver run down your spine as sukuna pins you against his car. he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. “yeah?” you murmur, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. “and how do you plan on doing that, tough guy?”

he leans even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear. his breath is hot against your skin as he speaks, his voice low and gruff. “oh, i have a few ideas, princess,” he purrs, his hand tracing a path down your side to rest on your hip.

he pulls you even closer to him, pinning you even tighter against the car. he cups your chin with his other hand, tilting your head back so that you're looking up at him. he gazes down at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

you're smiling ear to ear, wrapping your arms happily around his neck as you look up to him. “like what?” you ask, voice low and sultry. he chuckles, the sound low and smooth. he gazes down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “oh, princess, if i told you all of my ideas, i'd be here all night.”

his hand on your hip slides lower, slowly tracing the contour of your body until it rests on the curve of your ass. he gives you a slight squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

his other hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he leans in closer, his lips mere inches from yours. he glances down at your mouth, his eyes filled with desire. “but trust me, i have all sorts of ways of making sure those stupid underclassmen know you're mine,” he whispers, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

you tear a low, softly hum the moment his thumb makes contact with your bottom lips, “i think everyone on campus already knows that, don't you think?” he smirks, enjoying the sound of your hum. he runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip again, tracing the curve of your mouth.

“oh, i know they do,” he replies, his voice low and smooth like honey. “but it never hurts to have a little reminder every now and then, doesn't it?” he leans in closer, his eyes locked on your mouth. he's so close now that you can feel his warm breath against your skin.

“yeah?” you mumble, eyes never leaving his red irises. your fingers trace a gentle path on his undercut. sukuna's eyelids flutter shut as your fingers trace over his undercut, a low rumble escaping his chest at your touch. he practically melts under your touch, his body tensing and then relaxing at your caress.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and gruff. “i want everyone to know you're mine. no one else gets to touch you, look at you, hell, even breathe the same air as you.”

you chuckle, shaking your head ever so, “you're so jealous. but that's a bit selfish, don't you think, baby?”

sukuna leans in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear. “hmmm, maybe i am. but you don't mind, do you, princess?” he brushes his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose against the sensitive skin. he peppers light kisses along your jawline, his mouth skimming over your pulse point.

you shiver slightly at his touch, a smirk tugging at your lips. “who am i to be mind by my boyfriend's jealousy?” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. your hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as you whisper, “i like it when you get possessive.“

sukuna smirks against your skin, his kisses growing more intense as he hears your words. he lets out a low hum, reveling in the fact that you enjoy his jealousy.

he presses his body against yours, pinning you more firmly against the car. his hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. “good,” he growls, his lips trailing up your neck towards your ear. “because i love getting possessive over you. you're mine and mine alone, princess.”

you let out a breathy laugh, feeling the heat of his words and the intensity of his touch. “maybe we should take this home,” you whisper back, your voice teasing yet full of desire. you lean into him, brushing your lips against his ear before continuing, “unless you want to risk someone seeing just how possessive you can get.” your hands slide up his chest, urging him to move, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

sukuna's lips curve into a devilish smile at your words. he knows exactly what you're getting at, and the thought of getting caught in the act only adds to the thrill.

he chuckles, his eyes darkening with desire. “oh, princess, you know me too well,” he purrs, his voice low and smooth, “but i wouldn't mind giving some nosy strangers a show.” he doesn't hesitate, quickly scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the passenger door.

he opens the door and gently sets you down on the leather seat, his eyes never leaving yours. a wicked smirk plays at his lips as he climbs in after you, shutting the door behind him.

he buckles you in, his hands lingering on the seatbelt for a moment longer than necessary. he takes a moment to appreciate the way your body looks in the dim light, biting his lip at the sight.

“you look so good, all strapped in and waiting for me,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire. “let's go home, princess. i have some unfinished business with you, and i need some privacy for it,” sukuna mumbled. you chuckle, letting your hand hang in the air for a second to touch his cheek and giving his lips a peck.

sukuna let a low hum escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his body responding instantly to your affection. he doesn't hesitate to start the car, the engine roaring to life as he peels out of the parking lot. his eyes stay focused on the road, but his hand finds its way to your thigh, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

he's silent for a moment, his thoughts consumed by the events of the day and the thought of being alone with you. as he drives, his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, his fingers digging into your flesh. he's impatient and eager to get you alone, and the longer the drive goes on, the more tense he becomes.

but he says nothing, his jaw clenching slightly as he focuses on the road. the only sound that can be heard in the car is the low hum of the engine and his deep, steady breaths.

the door slams shut behind you both as sukuna presses you against it, his lips moving hungrily against yours. his hands slide down your back, gripping your waist as he lifts you effortlessly, deepening the kiss. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer as your lips move in sync, the intensity between you two growing with each passing second.

he growls low in his throat, his impatience from the drive spilling over as he carries you to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. the darkness only heightens your senses as he lays you down, hovering over you, his breath hot against your skin.

“you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this, princess,” he murmurs against your lips before capturing them in another passionate kiss, his hands exploring your body with possessive intent. sukuna's touch is both rough and gentle as he worships your body, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin. his lips move down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake.

he bites and sucks at the skin of your collarbone, leaving small marks that he knows will be there tomorrow. his hands caress your curves, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your clothes as if impatient to get to the skin beneath.

he pauses for a moment, his hands gripping the hem of your shirt. he tugs at it, looking up at you with darkened eyes. “princess, i need these clothes off. now.”

he's barely got the words out before he's already yanking your top over your head, discarding it to the floor without a second thought. his lips immediately return to your skin, his mouth trailing a path down your chest. you're gasping for air softly, looking down at him with your hands on his hair. “r-ryo..” you whisper his name.

sukuna freezes at the sound of his name on your lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the sound. he loves when you say his name like that, in that soft, breathless whisper. it makes his heart skip a beat, and his grip on you tightens slightly.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. “yeah, princess?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above your skin. “don't stop,” you pleaded, fingers knead with his pink locks.

sukuna smirks against your skin, his lips curving into a devilish grin. he loves how desperate you sound, how much you want him. it's a huge ego boost, and it only makes him more determined to drive you wild.

“don't worry, princess. i'm not stopping anytime soon,” he assures you, his voice rough and gravelly. he continues his assault on your skin, his lips and tongue worshiping every inch of you.

he slowly peels your clothes off you, his fingers caressing your skin with every piece of fabric that's removed. his mouth follows his hands, his lips trailing over your body like a starved man.

he takes his time, taking in every inch of you until you're completely bare before him. he looks up at you, his eyes raking over your body with a possessive desire. “you're so damn beautiful, princess,” he murmurs approvingly, his hands roaming over your curves.

you put your hands around your chest— put a shield on your bare breast away from his sigh and a crushed cherry makes its way to your cheeks. you put yourself on your elbows before leaning closer, trying to hide your shyness by kiss him.

sukuna notices your shyness, and he smirks at the sight. he knows it's part your natural shy nature and part your subconscious reaction to his compliment. he doesn't call you out on it, though. instead, he accepts your kiss, his lips moving against yours with a possessive intensity. he cups your chin in his hand, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply.

he can feel your hands on your chest, trying to hide from him, and he tsks softly. he gently pulls your hands away, his eyes flashing with possessiveness. “no hiding, princess,” he growls lowly. “i want to see all of you. every inch.”

he gently pushes you back down onto the bed, his body covering yours. he pins you down, his hands roaming over your skin as he looks down at you with his intense, possessive gaze.

you tug at his jacket, silently telling him to also take his clothes off. making the man standing on his knees between your legs start to peel his clothes one by one without leaving your gaze, slowly revealing his muscular, cover with his signature tattoos to you. sukuna smirks down at you, his eyes never leaving yours as he begins to strip. he slowly peals off his jacket, tossing it aside before unbuttoning his shirt. he lets the fabric hang open for a moment, giving you a glimpse of his toned torso before pulling it off entirely.

his hands go to his belt next, unbuckling it with a quick flick of his wrist. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. he steps out of his clothing, his cock standing proud and hard, throbbing with need. he grins down at you, enjoying the look of hunger in your eyes as they drink in the sight of him.

“like what you see, princess?” he teases, his voice thick with lust.

you shift slightly, straighten your position and back to prop your burning-with-desire body to catch a better look of your boyfriend. unconsciously, you biting your nail, smiling as you look at him with hunger. “handsome,” you mumble, voice low.

sukuna preens under your gaze, his ego swelling at your little compliment. he loves the way you look at him, the way your eyes rake over his body with such hungry desire.

he smirks at you, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “thank you, brat. you're not so bad yourself,” he replies, his voice low and smooth. he looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and dip.

a satisfied hum vibrates out of your lips before you are leaning towards him while he still standing with his knees between your legs. closing the gap between your starving lips and his skin. your lips wander— giving sukuna an open-mouthed kisses on his abs while your nails digging invisible hole on his muscular thighs.

sukuna groans low in his throat as your lips make contact with his skin, your warm mouth sending shivers through him. his hands instinctively reach down to tangle in your hair, holding you close as you pepper his abs with open-mouthed kisses.

he can feel the slight pinch of your nails digging into his thighs, and it only serves to heighten his arousal. he's rock hard, his cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you worship his body.

“fuck, princess... keep doing that and i might not last long enough to fuck you properly,“ he warns, his voice strained with desire. despite the threat, he doesn't pull you away, content to let you explore his body to your heart's content.

he looks down at you, watching as your lips and tongue leave a trail of wet kisses over his abs, your nails leaving little indents in his skin. he lets out a low, guttural groan, his body responding to your touch with each passing second.

“fuck, princess,” he mumbles, his voice strained. “you're driving me insane.” you chuckle faintly, finding his struggling amusing. “you are so responsive, ryo..” you mumble on his abs before biting the skin in tiny.

sukuna lets out a low growl at the feeling of your teeth on his skin, his body tensing in response. he's struggling to maintain control, his hands twitching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab you and flip you over.

"you have no idea how much you're affecting me right now, princess," he replies, his voice low and ragged. "i'm trying to be patient, but you're making it damn difficult."

he's practically vibrating with tension, his entire body coiled tightly like a spring ready to snap. he's determined to let you have your way with him, to let you explore and worship his body to your heart's content.

but it's taking all of his willpower not to give in to the overwhelming desire that's surging through his veins, the desire to take you, to make you his over and over again.

“so hot,” you whisper, eyes never leaving his burning red irises. your tongue sticks down to his abs, leaving a trail of your saliva on his skin. sukuna groans loudly at the sensation of your tongue on his skin, his cock throbbing in response. he bites his lip to stifle another moan, his hands tightening in your hair.

"fuck, princess... you're going to kill me," he mutters, his voice laced with both pleasure and frustration. he can barely stand it anymore, the feeling of your tongue tracing patterns on his skin is driving him absolutely mad.

he finally decides to take matters into his own hands (or rather, his mouth). he leans down, capturing your nipple between his teeth, biting down gently. a soft moan tears away from your throat while sukuna's hands pushing your body against the pillows, letting you slightly sitting. “oh, baby,” you whisper.

sukuna smirks at your soft moan, his eyes darkening with desire. he continues to tease your nipples with his teeth and tongue, alternating between gentle nibbles and rough sucks. he pulls back after a few moments, looking up at you with a wicked grin. “you like that, princess? you like when i bite you?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust.

he moves lower then, trailing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your hips. he nuzzles against you affectionately before spreading your legs wide apart, exposing your wet pussy to his hungry gaze.

“yes..” you answer, a soft groan leaving along with your gasp the moment cold air kissing your already dripping pussy. your gaze meet with sukuna's hooded eyes and his smirk.

sukuna chuckles darkly at your breathless yes, his eyes glinting with mischief. he loves seeing you like this - spread out beneath him, desperate and wanting.

he takes a moment to admire the view, his gaze raking over your glistening folds hungrily. “you're so fucking perfect, princess,” he murmurs appreciatively. “i could stare at this pretty pussy all day.”

he leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. he inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent. “and you smell so good too... i bet you taste even better.”

“please, ryo..” softly, you pleaded, begging for his mercy.

sukuna smirks at your pleading, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you beg for more. “what do you want, princess?” he taunts, his fingers tracing and teasing circles around your clit. “tell me how badly you need my tongue on this sweet little cunt of yours.”

he leans in, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. “beg me for it,” he commands, his voice low and husky with desire. “let me hear you plead for my attention like the needy little slut you are.”

you huff a soft gasp when sukuna slightly pull you towards him and lift your legs on his shoulders, wrapped his tattoos and muscular arms around your thigh to keep you close. “ryo..” you calling him between your gasp, “please, need you— miss you so much,” you pleading. you haven't seen him for a month, and when you finally do, you get him between your legs, ready to eat you out to oblivion.

sukuna groans at your desperate pleas, his cock throbbing in anticipation. he's been craving you just as much, dreaming about having you writhing beneath him once again. "I've missed you too, princess," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "i've thought about this tight little pussy every single day we were apart."

his other hand moves lower, sliding between your slick folds to tease at your entrance. “but you know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder,” he continues, his tone dripping with seduction. “i think it's time we made up for lost time, don't you?”

he dives in then, his tongue delving deep into your soaked folds. he laps at you hungrily, savoring your addictive taste as he eats you out with wild abandon. his tongue swirls around your clit before sucking it between his lips, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly. “fuck, you taste even better than i remembered,” he growls against your core, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “i could feast on this pussy for hours...”

your soft moan drifting away along with your breath when you throw your head back the moment his tongue touches your clit. your finger desperately looking for support and found his hair, scratching his scalp with your long nails in the process.

sukuna moans deeply as your nails dig into his scalp, the mix of pain and pleasure only spurring him on further. he doubles his efforts, lapping at your clit with broad strokes of his tongue before sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and suckling greedily.

his fingers join the fray, two digits plunging knuckle-deep into your soaked channel as he pumps them in and out at a rapid pace. he curls them just right, hitting that special spot inside you that has your toes curling in ecstasy.

“that's it, princess,” he croons, his voice muffled against your core. “let me hear those pretty sounds. i want the whole neighborhood to know who this pussy belongs to.” he scissors his fingers, stretching you deliciously as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

his words alone are enough to send sparks shooting through your veins. the thought of him stretching you open, filling you completely, sends a rush of heat pooling in your belly.

“oh god..” you whimpering breathlessly. your hand still clutch tightly around his hair while the other grasping the blanket underneath you, “feel so g-good, baby..”

sukuna grins against your pussy, his pride swelling at your praise. he loves knowing he can reduce you to such a state of desperation with just his mouth and fingers. “you like that, princess?” he teases, pumping his fingers faster as he sucks harder on your clit. “you like feeling stuffed full, stretched open for me?”

he adds a third finger, scissoring them even wider inside you as he curls them to hit that magic spot over and over. his tongue lashes at your clit mercilessly, driving you higher and higher.

“so close, aren't you?” he purrs, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. “just let go, princess. come all over my face like the naughty girl you are.” your thigh shaking along with your breath the moment his finger keep poking your g-spot, making you crying for release. “o-oh—” you stammered, eyes tightly shut and your thigh unconsciously leaning towards each other, clamping down sukuna's head on the way.

sukuna hums in approval, loving the feel of your thighs clenching around his head. he keeps up his relentless assault on your clit, flicking it relentlessly with his tongue as he drives his fingers deeper into your quivering walls.

“that's it, princess,” he encourages, his voice vibrating against your pussy. “give it to me. show me how much you love my fingers fucing this tight little pussy.” he quickens his pace even more, pumping his fingers faster and curling them even deeper within you. the sound of your moaning fills the room, echoing off the walls and spurring him on.

with one final lick across your swollen clit, he pushes you over the edge. your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, ripping a scream from your throat as waves of pleasure wash over every inch of your being. the combination of sensations pushes you closer and closer to the brink, until finally, you tip over the edge.

with a loud cry, your back arches off the bed as your orgasm crashes over you. your inner walls clench around his pumping fingers as wave after wave of pleasure rocks through your body. “o-oh, god!” your high-pitched moan filling the room the moment you squirting on his face. tightly clenching his head between your thigh along with his fingers inside you.

sukuna groans in satisfaction as your juices flood his mouth, your thighs clamping down around his head like a vice. he doesn't let up though, continuing to lap at your pulsing walls and flick your clit as you ride out the intense waves of your climax. sukuna drinks in your sweet release eagerly, lapping up every drop of your juices as they coat his tongue. he doesn't stop until your orgasm subsides, until your trembling form is left limp and satisfied beneath him.

“that's it, come for me princess,” he coaxes, his fingers buried deep inside you as he helps work you through the aftershocks. “fuck, you taste so good when you squirt like that.” he slowly pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to clean them off with relish. “i could watch you fall apart on my tongue all day,” he says with a wicked grin, licking his lips. “but i'm not done with you yet...“ he crawls up your trembling body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

you let out a satisfied sigh when his lips touching yours. in an instant your arms found its way to his neck, pulling him closer until there is no gap between you and him. “i almost forgot how your tongue feels, we should never be apart like that ever again,” you murmur softly on his lips. sukuna chuckles lowly, his hands roaming your curves possessively as he settles himself between your spread thighs. “oh, i fully intend to make sure you never forget again,” he promises darkly, grinding his rock hard erection against your sensitive core.

he claims your lips in another heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. you can taste yourself on him, a heady reminder of the pleasure he just brought you to. “i'm going to fuck you so hard, princess,” he growls against your lips, reaching down to line himself up with your entrance. “i'm going to fill this tight little cunt up until you're screaming my name.”

with one powerful thrust of his hips, he sheaths himself fully inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick length. he thrusts it inside you gently, reveling in the warmth and wetness that greets him. “i hope you're ready for more, baby, because i'm far from finished satisfying this insatiable appetite of mine...”

your body once again arch away from the bed towards sukuna. your warmth breath fanning across his ear with your nails scratching his back. a month away from your boyfriend and your pussy back to being unfamiliar with how big his cock are.

“f-fuck, since when you're became so big?” you mumble between your panting. sukuna lets out a low, pleased rumble as he continues to pump his hips, sinking deeper and deeper into your welcoming heat. “since I've been dreaming about this moment,” he confesses, nipping at your earlobe teasingly.

“ever since you left to your stupid vacation, i've been thinking about how good it would feel to be balls deep inside you again.” he punctuates his words with another hard thrust, his cock throbbing inside you. “and now that i am... fuck, princess... you're tighter than i remember.“

he starts moving with purposeful intent then, setting a punishing rhythm designed to drive both of you insane with pleasure. each stroke of his hips sends waves of bliss coursing through your bodies; each pull of his cock dragging moans from deep within your chest.

sukuna leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. his hands grip your hips hard, holding you in place as he fucks you with wild abandon.

"you take my cock so well, princess," he rasps against your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “so fucking perfect.” he breaks the kiss to gaze down at you, his red eyes blazing with lust and possession. “look at me,” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “watch me claim this pussy as mine.”

as you meet his intense stare, he reaches between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more. “come for me again, princess,” he urges, his voice dripping with hunger. as sukuna picks up the pace, you can see the lust burning in his crimson eyes. they flicker dangerously as he watches you writhe beneath him, taking every inch of his massive dick with eagerness.

his hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements to meet his thrusts perfectly. with each stroke, he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending jolts of ecstasy racing up your spine. “oh, fuck me— ah!” you whimpering, your breath shattered each time sukuna thrust faster into you.

the sight of you writhing beneath him, your body slick with sweat and flush with arousal, fuels sukuna's lust even further. he grunts with satisfaction as he feels your walls clench around him, tightening deliciously with every thrust.

"fuck yes," he groans, slamming into you harder and faster. "take my cock, princess. milk it dry." his fingers find your clit again, rubbing it in tight circles that send sparks shooting through your veins. the sensation coupled with the relentless pounding of his cock has you teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"you're gonna cum for me again," he pants, leaning down to nip at your collarbone. "and then I'm gonna fill you up until you can't walk straight." his words send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your veins. you arch into him, desperate for more of his delicious friction. your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“please, baby!” you beg, your voice breaking on a sob, “harder! faster!”

sukuna snarls with pleasure at your plea, his thrusts growing even more erratic as he loses control. He buries himself deep inside you, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. "oh, fuck..." he curses, feeling his climax building rapidly. "i'm close, princess. so fucking close."

he doubles his efforts, pistoning into you with reckless abandon. his fingers work your clit mercilessly while he drives himself to the hilt over and over again. with a final, guttural groan, he tips over the edge. "here it comes!" he warns before spilling his hot seed deep within your quivering depths. Your walls clench around him greedily, milking him for everything he's worth.

“oh. my. god. .” you groan low in pleasure. your hands holding tightly to his shoulders. he stays buried deep inside you, his still-hard cock still twitching occasionally as the last remnants of your shared climax ebb away.

after a moment, he lifts his body to sit between your legs to look at you, a lazy, satisfied smile spreading across his face. “always so beautiful,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. "you took every inch of me like a champ, princess.”

slowly he pull his cock out of your pussy, watch your cum and his dripping out to the bed. sukuna gently shove his two finger to scoop your cum back inside your pussy. he smile in satisfaction, “don't want it go wasted,” he murmur. sukuna watches as you relax in post-orgasmic bliss, your limbs sprawled out haphazardly and your skin glistening with sweat. a sense of satisfaction fills him, knowing he was able to give you such pleasure.

"that's it, princess," he murmurs encouragingly, watching as your belly firms up after the release of all those endorphins. "just lay back and enjoy the ride. we've got all night..." he moves lower then, kissing and nibbling along your inner thigh before pressing a tender kiss to the spot where his cock had just been. his tongue laps up the remaining evidence of your combined orgasms, cleaning you thoroughly before moving back up to lavish attention on your needy nipples.

"you're quite the little slut, aren't you?" he teases, pinching and rolling one of your hard peaks between his fingers. you open your eyes and chuckle hearing the words rolling out of his tongue. “i'm your little slut,” you murmur on his lips as you sit up straight. “those loser underclassmen don't stand a chance, do they?” you ask, remind him of his little jealousy at the underclassmen before.

sukuna smirks wickedly, enjoying the way you tease him. "they don't," he confirms with a possessive growl. "no one else gets to touch what belongs to me." his hand slides down to squeeze your ass cheek firmly. "especially not my tight little pussy," he adds, giving it a playful slap.

to prove his point, he rolls his hips against yours suggestively, letting you feel the renewed hardness of his cock. “see? this is what you do to me, princess. no other woman could get me this worked up.” leaning forward, he captures your lips in another searing kiss. As he pulls back slightly, he trails kisses down your neck before whispering against your skin. "now let's get you nice and ready for round two, shall we?"

his hand slips between your thighs again, fingers delving into your slick folds to start preparing you for his next conquest. sukuna smile, “let's have you on my lap and see if you still can take me fully,” he murmur. without a warning he scoop you from the bed and sitting you on his lap, your legs cage him in between. you gasp from the sudden movement before giggling, having sukuna mirroring you. your arms again found its own to wrap around sukuna's neck.

sukuna chuckles darkly as he positions you on his lap, his hands gripping your hips securely. "let's see how well you can handle me now, shall we?" with a swift tug, he lines up his throbbing cock with your entrance, teasing you with the tip before slowly sinking you down onto his impressive length. inch by thick inch disappears inside you, stretching you deliciously as you envelop him completely.

"fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, relishing the way your velvety walls hug his shaft. "ride me, princess. take what you need."

his hands guide your movements as you begin to bounce on his lap, setting a steady rhythm that has you both panting with pleasure. the new angle allows him to hit even deeper, striking that magic spot inside you with every downward grind.

"that's it." the new angle makes his cook suffocating you, fill you up completely and have your eyes rolled back to your head for a second. “oh fuck, oh god!” you whisper as your breath hitched.

sukuna's eyes blaze with lust as he watches you struggle to breathe around his thick girth. "look at you, taking me so deep," he praises huskily, one hand coming up to cup your face. "such a good girl for me." the praise only serves to fuel his desire, and he begins to move beneath you with increased urgency. his hips snap upward to meet your downward strokes, driving his cock impossibly deeper with each powerful thrust.

"i'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he vows, nipping at your earlobe. "my cock will be the only thing you crave, the only thing that can satisfy you." as he speaks, his free hand slides between your bodies to rub at your clit, adding an extra layer of stimulation to the intense fucking. the dual sensations quickly push you toward another explosive climax.

your voice shaking as you hummed a protest the second he adds another pleasure with his hand. “o-oh,” your voice wavering while your forehead pressed against his neck. your fingers hug his wrist, a sign of your protest from the pleasure unconsciously.

sukuna feels your resistance but doesn't relent, continuing to stroke your sensitive clit in time with his relentless pounding. "shh, it's okay, princess," he coos, his breath hot against your ear. "just let go. I've got you."

emboldened by your submission, he increases the pressure on your clit, determined to bring you to the brink once more. his cock throbs inside you, signaling his own impending orgasm, but he focuses on pushing you first. "that's it, come for me," he urges, his voice a low rumble. "squeeze my dick with your tight cunt. show me how much you love being filled by me."

sukuna's words are your undoing, and with a keening cry, you shatter around him, your inner muscles clamping down on his pulsing cock like a vice. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. at the sensation of your pussy convulsing around him, sukuna's control snaps. with a hoarse roar, he slams up into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his own release floods through him. spurt after spurt of hot cum paints your insides, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“yes! fuck yes!” he roars, slamming into you one last time after finding his own release. for long moments, you remain locked together, riding out the aftershocks of your shared climax. finally, fukuna gently eases you off his lap, allowing you to collapse against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

sukuna holds you close as you both catch your breath, his heart pounding against your back. he presses a tender kiss to your temple, savoring the feeling of your naked body pressed so intimately against his. sukuna's breathing is heavy and ragged as he holds you close, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating in perfect time with yours.

he nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to commit your scent to memory. his hands roam over your body, his touch gentle and possessive as he worships you with his touch.

"you're mine," he murmurs, his voice a low, possessive growl. "all mine, princess. don't ever forget that." as your breathing steadies, he shifts slightly, maneuvering you both to lie down on the bed. he gathers you close, draping an arm across your waist possessively as you rest your head against his chest— draping you with a cover along with him.

sukuna holds you close, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you curl up against his chest. he pulls the covers up around you both, enveloping you in a warm, cozy cocoon. he lets out a satisfied sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he relaxes into the bed. he's still buzzing with the aftermath of your intense encounter, but he's blissfully content just holding you in his arms like this.

he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a low murmur. "you okay, princess?" you lift your head from his chest, your eyes meeting his with a warm, affectionate gaze. a gentle smile curves your lips as you hum softly in response. “perfect,” you whisper, brushing a tender kiss against his chin.

sukuna's heart skips a beat at the feeling of your lips on his skin, and he can't help but smile in response to your answer. he loves seeing you like this, all soft and sleepy in his arms. he pulls you closer, if that's even possible, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back as he holds you. he's still running on adrenaline, but seeing you so content and relaxed is enough to start calming him down.

he brushes a kiss against your forehead, his voice gravelly and drowsy. "i love you," he murmurs, his words heavy with meaning.

you roll over to your stomach— prop your elbows for support, your smile softened as you look up at him. sukuna hide his hand behind underneath his head as he looks at your figure when resting your chin on your hands, you gaze into his eyes with affection. “i love you too,” you reply softly, your voice filled with warmth. you lean closer once again, gently pressing your lips against his lips.

sukuna's heart skips a beat again as you lean in to press a soft, sweet kiss against his lips. he can feel his whole body melting beneath your touch, his guard completely dropping as you express your love for him. he's still completely naked beneath the covers, but he doesn't care. he doesn't care about anything other than being close to you right now, feeling your soft skin against his and the sweet heat of your breath on his lips.

he lets out a soft sigh into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face gently. you pull away before chuckling. the sweet, sweet sound of your little laugh puts a smile on sukuna's face. his thumbs gently sweep across your soft skin on your arm. the two of you just drowning in comfortable silence for a moment, far away behind all the intensity and sensual that filling the room before.

sukuna watches you closely as you pull away, his gaze soft and affectionate. he can't help but smile at the sound of your sweet laugh, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the comfortable silence.

he's soaking in the moment, drinking in the sight of your face so close to his, the feeling of your body pressed against his. it's moments like these that mean the most to him, when the world fades away and it's just the two of you.

he lifts his hand, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. sukuna’s eyes shift from your face to your hands, a hint of concern crossing his features as he notices the broken nail. his voice softens, tinged with regret. “oh, baby, i must have broken your nail,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on your hand.

he gently takes it on his own, examining now bare nail with a touch of amused. “i’m sorry about that,” he adds, his tone light, feeling everything except sorry for accidentally broking your extension nail. he noticed the extension of the nail near the pillow, picked it up and handed it to you— the nail that you've been waiting for a month for its appointment. “oh man,” you pout, your feature deepens with sadness, making the man chuckle.

sukuna's lips curl into a smirk at the sight of your pouting face, his eyes sparkling with amusement. he can't help but find it adorable when you pout, and it only makes him more fond of you. he watches as you take the broken nail extension from him, looking at it with a mixture of annoyance and sadness. he knows how much you've been looking forward to getting your nails done, but he can't help but find the situation a little bit funny.

he runs his hand through his hair, still chuckling softly.

you frown, hearing his chuckle, and your pout deepens. “baby, that’s not funny,” you protest, your voice carrying a hint of frustration mixed with your lingering sadness. you look up at him, trying to stay serious but finding it hard not to smile at his amused expression. “you really broke my nail,” you add, your tone balancing between exasperation and affection.

sukuna can't help but smirk at your protest, his amusement growing with every passing moment. he loves seeing you frustrated like this, even though he knows he should probably apologize. he shakes his head, his voice tinged with faux innocence. "i didn't mean to, brat. it was an accident," he replies, his tone playful.

he reaches out and gently brushes his finger over your lips, as if trying to soothe away your sadness. "don't pout like that," he murmurs. you look at him, still with your pouting lips and frowning in your forehead, “do you know how long i’ve been waiting for this? you know how hard it was to get this appointment and how much i paid?” you protest dramatically. groaning as you show him the broken nail.

sukuna stifles a chuckle at your dramatic groaning, knowing that he's definitely in trouble now. he looks at the broken nail in your hand, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a smirk keeps threatening to break through. he puts his hand on his chin as if contemplating, his tone teasing. "yeah, i know. you've been bitching about it for weeks," he replies, attempting to sound sincere.

he takes the broken nail from you, examining it with a faux look of concern. "i guess i got a little carried away in the moment," he adds, his voice dripping with fake apologeticess.

you smack his tattoos arm softly, “you are so annoying.”

sukuna lets out a low, amused chuckle at your soft smack on his arm, his smirk widening even further. he loves riling you up like this, seeing the way your cheeks flush with frustration and the adorable pout on your lips. he looks back down at the broken nail, his voice filled with mock sympathy. "well, i can't help it if i get a little passionate in the moment, princess. you know you bring out the best in me."

you can't help but smile at his words, “you better find me another appointment and you're going to be the one who's paying,” you scolded the man. sukuna raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. he can tell that you're trying to be serious, but he's not entirely convinced.

he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "oh, is that right? and what if i don't?" he teases, his voice low and sultry.

you shrugged your shoulders and took the nail from his hand, trying to act nonchalant. “i can ask satoru to pay for me, he wouldn't mind spoiling me since my boyfriend didn't want to,” you jokingly said, making the man rolls his eyes, knowing how he hates that gojo and geto always spoiled you with the fact that they are your childhood friends.

sukuna's eyes narrow at the mention of satoru's name, a possessive flicker flashing across his expression. he doesn't like the idea of you spending time with those two, especially not when they're always showering you with gifts and attention.

he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him with a possessive grip. "oh, no, you don't," he growls, his voice edged with jealousy. "you're not going to him asking for anything. you're mine, and if you want your nail done, i'll do it myself."

you are laughing softly. “yeay,” you mumble before giving the man a peck. sukuna just groans and rolls his eyes but happily lets you kiss him. “you are a spoiled rotten, did you know that, brat?” he asked, voice dripping with affection as he lovingly caressed your head.

you can't help but laugh at his complaint, knowing full well that he loves pampering you just as much as you love being pampered. you lean into his touch, nuzzling into his hand as he caresses your head. "i know," you reply, a cheeky smile spreading across your face. "but you love me anyway, don't you?"

sukuna's expression softens, his irritation melting away in an instant. he can never stay mad at you for long, especially not when you're so damn adorable. he lets out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to sound exasperated, even though he secretly loves indulging your spoiled brattiness. "yeah," he replies, his voice filled with affectionate fondness.

he runs his fingers through your hair, gently caressing your head. "but i love indulging you, brat." you grin as you hear his response, knowing that he's secretly enjoying indulging your every whim. you love the way he tries to act all tough and dismissive, but he's always quick to give in to your requests. you lean into his hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. you look up at him, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "you can't help but spoil me, can you?"

sukuna’s smirk widens as he hears your playful remark, his eyes gleaming with a mix of affection and amusement. he leans in slightly, his hand still gently brushing through your hair. “everyone around you always spoils you,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of mock seriousness.

“i can’t be the one who doesn’t give you everything you want. my pride couldn't take being a loser, especially for you,” his gaze softens, showing how much he values meeting your standards and keeping up with your expectations, even if it means letting his own pride take a backseat.

sukuna's words make your heart flutter in your chest, your smile growing wider at the hint of mockery in his tone. you know he's playing and enjoying every moment of this, but you can't help but be touched by his words. you reach up, gently twirling a strand of his hair around your finger as you look up at him. "aww, you're so sweet," you tease, unable to resist poking fun at his ego. "it's cute how much you care about not being a loser in my eyes."

sukuna chuckles at your playful jab, his eyes sparkling with mischief. he leans in closer, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, gently caressing your skin with his thumb. "you little brat," he mutters, his tone affectionate despite the hint of scolding.

he loves this banter between the two of you, the way you can tease each other and still maintain the intense chemistry between you. he looks down at you, his voice turning slightly serious. "you know i'd do anything to keep you happy, right?"

“even if that means pampering me rotten?” you ask playfully, followed by scrunching your nose. sukuna lets out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be annoyed. "even if that means pampering you rotten," he affirms, rolling his eyes teasingly. he knows there's no way he's ever going to say no to indulging you, but he likes to play the part of the reluctant boyfriend for comedic effect. he gently pinches your nose between his fingers, a cheeky smile on his face. "you're such a damn brat, you know that?"

you nod with a playful grin, clearly enjoying his teasing. “i know,” you reply, your voice is light and teasing. you lean in closer, savoring the affectionate gesture and the cheeky smile on his face. sukuna's smile widens as you lean into his touch, his hand shifting from your nose to your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. he holds your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of affection and amusement.

he can't help but love how easy it is for the two of you to banter and tease each other like this. he lets out a low, affectionate growl, pulling you closer to him. "you're such a handful, you know that?" again, you nodded your head, “uh-uh.” your finger gently touching his face, tracing the tattoo in tender.

sukuna can't help but lean into your touch, his expression softening as you brush your finger over his tattoos. he loves the way you touch him, so gentle and affectionate. he watches you closely, his gaze warm and affectionate. he gently captures your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. "you're going to be the death of me, brat," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

he pulls your hand down, still holding it in his own as he continues to look at you. his fingers interlace with yours, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles.he can feel the tension between you slowly building, the air thick with a subtle hint of desire. but he doesn't rush it, instead he just savors the moment, enjoying the simple intimacy of being close to you.

“but you don't mind, hm?” you softly ask, resting your cheek on your palm while you are still lying in your stomach before him. “you love me too much for that,” you added. sukuna can't help but chuckle at your question, his eyes sparkling with amusement and affection.

he reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "you're damn right i do," he replies, his voice filled with pride and adoration. "and i wouldn't have it any other way." he leans in closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. "you've got me wrapped around your little finger, princess."

you raise your eyebrows, pretend to be questioning him. “yeah? or it is because i'm naked under your cover, in your bed?” you playfully ask him. sukuna lets out a low chuckle at your bold question, his eyes darkening with desire. he can't deny the effect you have on him, especially when you're laying there in his bed like that, completely naked under thecovers.

he leans in even closer, his lips nearly touching yours as he replies in a low, seductive murmur. "well, that definitely doesn’t hurt," he admits, his hand sliding slowly down your side. you chuckle as he wraps his arm around your waist and rolls you over until you are in your back with him on top of you. “oh, you are so dirty,” you tease him, hands kissing his cheeks.

sukuna grins at your playful comment, his body hovering over yours as he looks down at you, a mixture of amusement and desire in his eyes. he enjoys the way you tease him, the way your lips gently kiss his cheeks. it just makes him want you more. he chuckles again as he presses his hips against yours, pinning you to the bed. "only for you, princess," he teases back, his voice low and sultry.

you smile ear to ear before pulling the cover over both of you. ready to continue what was left and for round three. sukuna lets out a low chuckle as you pull the cover over the two of you, his arms wrapping around you and pressing you close to his body. he can feel the heat radiating off of you, the desire building between you once again. he leans in, his lips gently brushing against your neck, his voice low and sultry as he mumbles between kisses. "round three already, huh? you are such a greedy little thing."

#ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #anime smut #female reader #devider : by cafekitsune

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princessbrunette · 3 months ago

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can’t stop thinking about babydaddy!rafe taking toddler!daughter out for the day because you have plans — and he’s not really sure what the best way to entertain a toddler is, so he takes her to the drive-through zoo.

she seems happy enough in her car seat in the back, the buzz-cut kook checking her through the mirror every so often until they arrive there. “alright, y’ready to see some animals? huh?” he coo’s, craning round to look at her as she squeals and bangs her chubby fists in excitement. “yeaaah. you look excited. looove animals, just like mommy — don’t you?” he pulls into the ticket booth, scanning the code on his phone before they let him in, rafe’s large expensive car crawling slowly up the cobblestone.

it’s hard to know if she’s enjoying the sights at first, blinking her big round eyes at the sights that pass her. until of course, she’s confronted with her favourite animal. the animal she was most excited about when daddy told her they were going to the zoo.

“camel!” she yells, and rafe lets the car sit still, the two gazing out their assigned windows at the dusty animal boredly inspecting some grass. “camel from the book, daddy!” she babbles in baby talk, and though he’s got no clue why she’d be so excited over a camel of all animals, or what ‘book’ she’s babbling about — he entertains it anyway.

“thats right, peanut.” he croons, turning in his seat once again to look her way, sunglasses rattling against his chest where they hang from his polo. the camel comes a little closer to the car, and despite your strict instruction — rafe unwinds his daughters window just a tad. “look at thaaat, huh?”

“camel! camel!” she clasps her hands together — the spitting image of you and rafe smiles, all warm and genuine. it was a real shame you couldn’t come today. the camel looks right through the window at his little girl before spitting in disinterest on the ground and continuing to trot away. rafe kisses his teeth.

“yeah walk away from my little girl, rude ass bitch.” he lets slip. it’s quiet, but he knows he shouldn’t say it anyway. luckily for his little girl, she didn’t seem to mind or notice the camels disinterest, happily humming to herself as rafe continues to slowly drive the car along the cobble once more. there’s a couple of seconds of silence — and just as rafe is about to fill it, asking if she’d wanna see the monkeys next, your daughter speaks up.

loud and unabashed, she grins. “bitch!”

rafe blinks, head whipping round to glance at her. “oh sh— uh, nah. honey we don’t uh, we don’t say those things alright? s’a bad word. your mommy will kill me if she hears y—”

“bitch! bitch bitch bitch!” she giggles, clapping her hands together. rafe presses his lips together at his only mistake.

“hey, language kiddo.”

the rest of the day is spent filled with distractions for his little girl. ensuring she forgets all about that naughty word by buying her whatever useless stuffed animal from the drive in zoo, whatever chicken nuggets from the restaurant that she’ll barely nibble on, repeating whatever silly joke that makes her cackle. he’s convinced it works, and soon — even rafe forgets all about the incident.

she’s practically asleep by the time rafe’s handing her back to you at the end of their day.

“was everything okay? did you take pictures?” you smile, looking tired from whatever chaotic day you’d had but still beautiful nonetheless. rafe blinks himself out of a stare quickly, going to answer.

“no yeah, loads uh… i’ll send ‘em through when i get home.” he nods, wiping his hands on his pockets watching the toddler stir, now back in her mothers arms. she gives you a tight cuddle before sleepily craning round to look at rafe, hair all messy and one eye still stuck shut.

“say bye to daddy.” you coo quietly, bouncing her a few times. she’s seemingly too tired, instead offering a tiny fist to wave at him in parting. he smiles, eyes flickering away from you to catch her hand and press a kiss to it before backing up— taking in the perfect family that was just out of his reach before turning back around to walk back to his car, fishing for his keys in his pocket.

then, comes your daughters voice. raspy and sleepy — yet clear and unmistakeable.

“bye bitch!”

rafe slowly spins on his heel, just in time to watch your face turn from confusion, to horror, to pissed off. at him.

#babydaddy!rafe #rafe cameron prompt #idk what this is but it’s silly 😭

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stevieschrodinger · 5 months ago

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This is not how Steve wanted to spend his afternoon.

Actually, he’s found himself doing a lot of things he hasn't wanted to since Starcourt burned down but, honestly, this is probably right up there.

God it’s disgusting.

But he had to try. All the kids had looked at him with their stupid hang dog faces, so he said he’d try. Which is why he’s at lovers lake, freezing his ass off in the water and nipple deep into the shrubbery, ripping slimy crappy weeds and grass out of the muddy lake bed.

At least Robin got in with him. She’s shivering in her bathing suit, but she’s gamely holding onto the cooler as it floats in the water, so at least there’s that.

The bin full Upside Down vines next to the tank hadn't made much sense at the time, but it became apparent pretty fucking fast when the fish creature in Steve’s pool hadn’t eaten for forty eight hours, and Steve was now, finally, sober enough and not concussed enough to put two and two together.

Hopefully this works though; all the kids have, obviously, become immediately like, fucking pack bonded with the thing. Man. Fish Man.

El and Max keep insisting he’s a mermaid – Merman? Merdude? - like he’s something out of a fairy tail and is all magical and shit.

Steve takes a breath and ducks down again, having felt something hairy and frond like with his exploring toes.

“You think this is enough? Like as a fair test?” Robin rocks the half full cooler forward and Steve peeks in.

And alright, Steve just doesn’t want to fucking be here at all, so he says, “yep, looks good,” as they share a lightly guilty look.

It might not work at all, of course, so their wanting to give up is legitimate. They can always come back when it’s warmer if the fish man does eat this shit.

He certainly isn’t interested in the raw fish the kids have been trying to feed him – Steve’s going to be eating fish for a fucking month with what’s in his freezer now, and don’t those reprobates realize the price of fucking prawns??

The fish man wasn’t interested in meat either, not raw, not cooked – even though Dustin insisted that because of his ‘forward facing eyes’, ‘claws,’ and ‘slightly pointed teeth,’ he must be a predator Steve! The vines must have just been for, in his tank, or whatever, Steve!

Whatever.

Steve’s here to prove them wrong, and Robin’s backing him up.

The kids have gone home when they get back, which is a fucking relief. Even with the heaters in the car on full, Steve still feels cold in his bones. His skin warm and tingly, but the shivers still locked inside; him and Robin head for separate bathrooms without even really talking about it, fishboy has survived this long, he can do another twenty minutes.

Steve finds the biggest sting of kelpy weedy seaweedy stuff from the lake, and drags the tip of it in the pool. It’s dark out, the light from in the house reflecting on the surface of the pool, making it impossible to see where the creature might be hiding; until he disturbs the surface, a few seconds later.

Steve splashes the end in the water, “here fishy fishy fishy.”

“Steve,” Robin elbows him.

“What, it’s not like he has a name,” Steve doesn’t look at her though, he’s watching that strange pair of eyes come closer. They reflect the light strangely, like a wild animal in the headlights. His dark hair is plastered to the top of his head, being wet, and everything else is submerged.

Steve knows he can breathe fine for at least an hour out of the water though; that’s how long the rescue took. And then the bathtub; he was fine in there for a day while they drained the pool of chlorinated water and refilled it with fresh. And it was easy enough to get him in there; if he was human, Steve would say that fish dude was starving to death. Concave stomach, all his ribs clearly visible, pale flesh pulled too tight over the knobs of his spine. Steve had lifted him easily, the sad curl of his dull black tail hardly adding any weight to him. He felt frail, breakable; like a bird.

If there’s any lingering chemical in there, it doesn’t seemed to have hurt fishguy, but then a creature from the upside down must be tolerant to plenty, Steve thinks, imagining the constant fall of ashy dust from the dark sky.

The creature cautiously approaches, and when he’s near enough, there’s a gentle tug on the weed, like the most cautious of bites on a line. Steve lets go, and both fish guy and weed disappear under the water.

“Do you think it worked?” Robin whispers, like they’re viewing a skittish wild animal. Which, they kind of are.

“Don’t know,” Steve whispers back, unable to stop himself. There’s just something about someone whispering to you that’s irresistible; it’s like an unavoidable instinct to follow suit.

“How will we know if it’s worked?”

“Dunno. Try another? See if he takes it?” Steve’s just about to break open the cooler again when the head pops up. All of it, this time.

He has dark hair. So dark it looks black; thick and ropey, it kind of reminds Steve of the vines of the upside down. His face is...pretty much human; just very pale. When he’s got his mouth shut, hiding the slight point of those teeth, nothing would give him away.

He lifts a hand out of the water, offering something to Steve who, gingerly but reflexively, takes it.

It’s the stalk of the weed. The leaves are gone, and the fleshy green of the outside has been carefully stripped off; use for those pointy teeth. Steve guesses all the plant material of the upside down is actually probably quite sturdy and quite hard to eat. It probably also has the nutritional value of wet cardboard.

Steve offers another weed, and the fish dude doesn’t leave this time. Steve watches as he eats; quick, practiced movements, trimming leaves with his claws, rolling them, eating them, then just as Steve suspected, using his sharp teeth to strip the outer stalk of all it’s fleshy wet goodness.

Steve doesn’t shudder at the thought of the mud at the bottom of Lovers Lake.

“Steve one, Henderson zero,” Robin says quietly, the fish man tipping his head to the side, as if he’s listening. Steve’s seen it a lot, the amount that the kids chatter at him, but the fish guy tends to stay at the other end of the pool to them. Watching. Nervous, and frightened, if Steve had to put a label on it.

But then, wouldn’t anyone be? Stolen from your world by unrecognizable creatures in hazmat suits. Shoved in a tank. Probably experimented on.

The whole thing sounds shitty.

Steve offers another weed, and the fish guy repeats the process, floating closer still, “Robin, humor me, go and see what’s in the crisper drawer.”

She follows his logic immediately, “on it.”

Steve watches the creature, the fish man, and the fish man watches Robin warily, moving away from the edge again a little, but coming back when Steve offers another frond.

He takes it, strips it, hands it back.

“We need a name for you man, I can’t just keep calling you ‘fish dude’ and ‘creature’ in my head.”

Steve looks over at the house, figuring he has another minute before Robin comes back, he taps the middle of his chest, fishguys strangely gimlet eyes tracking to movement from his too thin face, “Steve.”

Nothing. He tries again, pointing to himself and tapping, “Steve,” and then pointing to the creature, trying to get him to understand.

Fish guy swims a little closer, raising a hand out of the water. Steve sees the stubby but pointy black claws, like little ovals on the end of his fingers. His webbed fingers, Steve sees next, webbing stretched between them up to the first knuckle. He hesitates for a moment, but Steve doesn’t move, wanting to see where this is going.

Fish guy points cautiously at the center of Steve’s chest, close but not touching, lifting far enough out of the water to reveal protruding collar bones. He opens his mouth, and Steve watches with baited breath, fish guy frowning like he’s concentrating, such a human emotion on his face.

Footsteps, then, and he drops back into the water, backing away into the middle of the pool, sinking down so only his eyes are visible. Steve remembers to breathe; he’s not imagining it, something was about to happen. But he can try again tomorrow, once Robin has gone.

“I got some lettuce and some frozen peas,” she whisper hisses at him as she sits again, handing them over.

“Gimme the lettuce,” that seems like the next nearest thing to Steve.

Part two

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #steddie ficlet #mermaid au #mermaid eddie #creature eddie munson #steddie fic #pre steddie #mermeddie #upside down creature eddie

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maiko-san · 9 months ago

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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )

<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>

Relationship: Fluff

Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader

Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.

A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.

A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.

These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.

"I guess that's all of it"

"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"

You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.

You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.

"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"

" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"

You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.

The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.

"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"

It was the third time this week.

Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.

"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.

You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.

You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.

To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.

So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.

For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.

You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.

You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.

It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.

You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.

Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.

"How's your day at the play care today?"

"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"

"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"

"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"

"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"

"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"

"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"

"I—"

"Ha! Gotcha!"

You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.

Just don't get himself dirty all the time.

"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."

"And why is that?"

"They said you stole their work...."

"....."

Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.

It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.

You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.

You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.

"It is our fault wasn't it?"

"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"

You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.

You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.

You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.

You did the same thing with his ears and chests.

Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.

You treat them like a real person.

Like they used to be.

Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....

You care for him, so he will do the same to you.

You are his angel, after all....

"Alright, everything's done!"

You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.

"Is this for me, angel?"

"Yeah, it suits you well"

Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.

I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!

"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"

"You're welcome, bud"

A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!

I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.

Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime #dogday #dogday x reader #catnap x reader #various x reader #fluff relationship #platonic relationship #Reader is a parental figure #catnap #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #picky piggy

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luveline · 6 months ago

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Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

#june baby universe #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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writersblockiskillingme · 4 months ago

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So I saw you wanted request for the rise of red and I'm here to deliver lol. So Captin Hook right? Can I get something like we are also friends with Bridget (or we are like Bridget) and they like run into each other and stuff I'm bad at doing requests and stuff sorry lol

Happy Little Accidents | Captain Hook

Pairing: Captain Hook x fem!reader

Summary: Hook and you always run into each other and he hates it.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, Morgie's teasing, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: You did amazing with the request, don't worry, hun. I did my best, hope this is what you wanted, enjoy!!

You had a reputation for being, what the VK's would call, a goody two shoes. A person that always follows the rules, never rebels against anyone or anything, is always good, always kind. Even if someone was so incredibly rude to you, you would still have a smile planted onto your face and a thought filled with kindness in your head.

All in all, your personality perfectly matched the one that Bridget from Wonderland had. That is one of the many reasons the two of you were practically inseparable.

No matter what, you always saw good in everyone and everything. Some people loved you for it. Some people found themselves despising you for that personality trait that you possessed.

You usually kept to yourself when you were not hanging out with Bridget or Ella, just trying to stay out of anyone's way.

Bridget always gave her best to make as many friends as possible, simply always going out of her way to make sure she made friends. You were not like that really.

You had Bridget and Ella. You had two friends. That was enough for you. It's not like you didn't want to give people a chance to be your friends. No way! You simply preferred it like that.

And even though you always stayed out of other people's ways, somehow one VK kept running into you.

The one with the smirk that seemed like it never left his face.

The one with the hook on his right hand.

The one who was a part of Uliana's crew.

Captain James Hook.

No matter how hard you tried to avoid each other, you just simply kept running into each other no matter what.

Whether you were just rushing to get to class in time or you were taking a walk or just reading or doing schoolwork on the courtyard, Hook was always there. However, it's not like he wanted to run into you all the time.

He infact hated it.

Constantly running into you. You with your bubbly personality and your kindness and your generosity and your willingness to help others even when they are mean to you and your perfect face and your gorgeous smile and your amazing hair and... and the panic he felt every time the two of you ran into each other.

The panic that appeared every time he realized over and over again just how amazing you truly are. Not that he would admit that to anyone.

Until Morgie noticed.

That's exactly how he ended up leaning against the tree in the courtyard of the Merlin's Academy as Morgie was siting down on the ground not too far away from him, listening as Hook was spilling nonsense at him.

"I just can't do it anymore," Hook groaned as Morgie rolled his eyes once again after God knows how many times. "I constantly run into her, it's crazy."

"Mhm..."

"She's just so annoying."

"Sure."

"I mean," Hook scoffed, basically ignoring Morgie who now had his head resting on his arms, sitting with his legs crossed in the grass. "Who can possibly be so happy all the time?"

"She can."

"It's so infuriating!" Hook groaned, throwing his head back, waving his hook around to emphasize his point. "That stupid, goody goody."

"Just admit that you like her already." Morgie rolled his eyes and Hook got silent all of a sudden.

"I don't-I-," he found himself stuttering and Morgie started to smirk as he saw his friend slowly starting to blush. "I don't like anyone! Especially not someone like her!"

"Mhm," Morgie hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't. You just notice every single thing about her and you've been 'complaining' about her kindness and generosity and perfection for almost half and hour. Just admit it to yourself."

"I don't like-"

"Please," Morgie said, once again, no surprise there, rolling his eyes as he looked at Hook. "I'm pretty sure Uliana noticed it, too."

"I-"

"Maleficent did for sure," he chuckled. "She's been looking at you a bit weirdly since few days ago when you started blushing when your little crush touched you accidentally while trying to escape Uliana and save Bridget like usual."

"I DID NOT BLUSH-!" Hook looked mortified and Morgie found himself laughing.

"Oh, please," he said, "Don't be so surprised, of course I noticed it."

Hook looked out into the distance and could have sworn that he saw that familiar hair color at the other side of the school. Morgie looked at him and sighed as he stood up, placing his hand on Hook's shoulder.

"Look, ask her out before someone else does because I've heard that Snow White's son has a thing for her, too." Morgie said and Hook's gaze snapped to Morgie's.

"I just thought that you should know." Morgie said in sing-song voice before he walked away with his arms behind his back, smirking, so pleased with himself.

As his gaze left Morgie's he realized, oh, he's not gonna have that.

TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @heartsfromcoco @ariaroseloklover @isafran1125 @gayfrog29 @mystic-mae

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just-jordie-things · 27 days ago

Text

try to understand - inumaki toge

word count: 15k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, some canon divergence (toge still has one arm, most characters are a teacher at jujutsu tech) unedited leave me alone maybe i'll do it later summary: being misunderstood isn't new for inumaki toge. but when the girl he'd had a crush on since he was a teenager makes a reappearance in his life, he realizes he'd really, really like for her to understand him. more info: miscommunication trope bcuz it's toge... he's just a pining romantic !! strangers -> slight enemies -> reluctant friends -> lovers. reader is a feelings-blind, emotionally constipated lil idiot <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

The Jujutsu Tech Exchange Event was stress inducing enough. Being evaluated by the higher ups and pitted against peers in a test of cursed ability and strength put a lot of pressure on those who participated.

Not that participation was ever a choice.

And to be honest, if it was a volunteer event, (y/n) would have some serious thinking to do.

It wasn’t that she doubted her abilities as a sorcerer. She had all the confidence in the world with her mastered ability, but sometimes the weight of being a jujutsu sorcerer was so heavy she couldn’t even be sure it was the right path for her.

But it had to be, right? With her skill being more akin to raw talent, sorcery coming as natural to her as breathing, it must be what she was meant for, it just made sense like that.

So most days, she woke up, shook off the empty feeling of longing on her mind, and got right to work. Whether it was training, studying, or a bright and early assignment, she stayed on top of things. She couldn’t let a feeling slow her down, and she didn’t.

Still, she wished she could feel what her peers do. Because whatever it was, Mai and Todo made it look pretty exhilarating.

Miwa, Mechamaru, Momo, and Noritoshi didn’t seem as interested in antagonizing the Tokyo students either, but they were content hanging out with the snacks they’d gotten from the vending machines without picking any fights. (y/n) sat with them, slowly sipping on the fruity drink she’d gotten for herself in the hopes that it would gear her up for the event.

“Looks like things are heating up” Miwa says, her neck craning to get a better glimpse at what was going on between the noisy students. It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what was going on, though.

Mai and Todo being their usual selves, that is. (y/n) didn’t bother trying to watch the scene unfold. Instead she just slumped further down into the grass. If only she could sink underneath it, too.

“Should we intervene?” Momo asks, but she doesn’t seem any more interested in (y/n). Laid back on her broom with her hands behind her head, she was the image of disinterest.

There wasn’t a chance (y/n) was getting involved in any of this. The only thing she had her sights set on was a solid nap after today’s event was over.

The event itself was the same as last year… and every year before that. A bunch of egotistical sorcerers running around in the woods, eac trying to exorcize more curses than the last. Of course, these last couple of times had more of an edge to them than usual. With Mai always gunning for her sister- literally- there was an added layer of bloodlust. And god forbid Todo found any of his opponents boring. He’d take all the ‘friendly’ out of friendly competition.

Perched in a spot she wouldn’t call great for hiding but she didn’t necessarily care, (y/n) had her chin in her hand to keep her head up. She’d fall asleep right there if she could. A part of her wished that Tokyo’s Special Grade Okkotsu Yuuta would show up, just to put this whole silly thing to an end as quickly as he did last year. Her peers weren’t so happy about him, or Rika, being involved in the Exchange Event, but that day he was (y/n’s) hero.

Lazily, her eyes swept over the area below her. No one had ventured this way since she’d climbed this tree, and if she was lucky, she might be able to sit here until the whole thing was over. She could only dream.

But all good things must come to an end, and soon enough the unmistakable sound of footsteps came running towards her tree. She perked up, just a little, and only because it was a surprise that whoever was rushing into her neck of the woods clearly wasn’t doing so with the intention of going unnoticed.

Swinging her legs a bit, (y/n) peeked down below her, trying to catch a good look at who it was. Surely not one of her peers, they had to be a Tokyo student.

Sure enough, an unfamiliar head of blonde hair came bounding into the clearing just below her tree. Of the Tokyo students she was familiar with- Maki, Panda, Fushiguro, and she supposed Yuuta- this wasn’t one of them. So she played it safe by remaining silent.

It crosses her mind that any of her fellow sorcerers would’ve taken this chance to go head to head with their abilities. They’d probably think she was wasting an opportunity by letting this boy run by without a fight. The thought doesn’t linger long. She’s not bothered much by what others might think of her. She knows that if she wanted to, she could take any sorcerer on in a fight. She just… didn’t care much to use her cursed technique where it wasn’t necessary.

At first all she can see is the blonde hair. He seems to hesitate once in the clearing, doing a quick sweep to make sure there wasn’t another sorcerer hiding amongst the brush. (y/n) holds her breath, but not once does he lift his head to check amongst the trees. She’s in the clear.

From the little bit that he looks around himself, she notices that his uniform includes a tall black collar which covers the bottom half of his face.

It doesn’t take much else to put two and two together. This was the Cursed Speech user she’d been warned about. From the Inumaki Clan. She holds her breath once more.

Mai had told her long winded and horrific things about the Inumaki Clan. Stories similar scary tales told around the campfire. Except they were all cramped up in the car that brought them to Tokyo. If it was a scare tactic to keep everyone away from Tokyo’s Cursed Speech user, (y/n) couldn’t say it was all that fear inducing.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t have her curiosities.

“Jump down”

It was an experience like no other. Any thought on her mind was erased. Her held breath was expelled just as quickly as she was releasing her secure hold on the branch, and before she knew it she was leaping right off, without a care for being noticed. Had she been less experienced in acrobatics, she might’ve sprained an ankle from the ten foot drop. Lucky her that a lifetime of training meant she landed as gracefully as she would’ve had she jumped on her own volition.

And it was quick too- just as soon as she’d realized the hold that Cursed Speech had on her, she was already free of it’s effects and was level headed again. At least enough to take a step backwards to put some distance between herself and the Tokyo student who’d caught her red handed.

However she quickly noticed that the Inumaki boy wasn’t in an offensive stance. He wasn’t really in any stance at all- he just stood there, watching her with seemingly the same amount of curiosity as she watched him.

(y/n) doesn’t mean any offense, but it’s hard not to stare. With a collar hiding the lower half of his face, his eyes felt all the more piercing. As if he had full access to her mind whether he spoke or not.

Using her own cursed technique crosses her mind, but it’s a distant thought, as if the competition at play isn’t happening at all.

She’s not sure she’s ever met anyone with such deep violet eyes before.

It’s ridiculous to wait for him to say something. But she stands there with more impatience than she’s ever felt before.

“Aren’t you going to knock me out or something?” She asks when she realizes he’s still just going to stand there.

Inumaki blinks, mabe pondering it for a moment, before he shrugs. (y/n) hardly knows what to do with that, and despite knowing he’s not going to give her any proper explanation, she still seems to wait for something more than a shrug.

So with a careful eye she steps back a little further, just to see if he’d make any move on removing her from the game. But no matter how many small steps she took, Inumaki didn’t move. He barely seemed to care. Didn’t he know he had the unbeatable technique? If he wanted to, he could put her to sleep right now.

With one last glance, (y/n) finally turned and booked it towards the thickest bundle of trees with the most coverage. It was clear that he wasn’t going to attack her, and it shouldn’t have surprised her that he didn’t seem to be following after her either. What was his deal? What was Tokyo’s strategy if it wasn’t wiping out the competition? She couldn’t make any sense of it, so for now she’d just have to find a new spot to hide out until the event was over. Or became more interesting.

It never really crossed her mind that she hadn’t tried to attack him, either.

The event did get more interesting. Although it wasn’t an exciting turn, (y/n) did find herself suddenly thrown into engaging herself.

How curses and curse users managed to get through the barrier around Jujutsu Tech, she didn’t understand. Critical thinking however was out the window as soon as that Special Grade Tree showed up.

With a less than formal introduction to Itadori, she found herself wrapped up with him and Todo. Perhaps the last place she wanted to be- she hated the dizzying effect of his cursed technique- but it was where she found herself. So she gave it her all, even when the turn for the worst took a detour towards chaos.

It was a strange feeling though, in the thick of the fight and expecting the worst, there was finally a spark within her. Something buzzing like static electricity was starting to take form. A small zap at first, an eagerness to play on the offense, and it seemed the more she chased that electric buzz, the more it grew. There was no denying that something had changed in her demeanor- the others could see it in the way she stopped pulling her punches. That’s not to mention the grin on her face growing more unhinged like a snarl with every move she made.

That little buzz had ignited into an all out fire, and soon she grew blind to everything but the fight.

Was this passion? Was this finally her eye opening moment to the pleasure of knowing and loving what she’s meant to do? The thoughts were muddled amongst the overwhelming urge to finish this off, to exorcize, to win. She’s never felt a desire this strong, never sought out a victory quite like this, and it was just barely out of reach, right at the tips of her fingers-

“Run away!”

And just as (y/n’s)cursed energy began to materialize around her hands, it was disappearing. Her body swiveled on it’s own accord, facing her in the other direction and pumping her legs into the motion of running all before she could process that this wasn’t her own doing. It was cursed speech. Again.

Her deranged grin fell into a sour grimace as she found herself full sprinting towards the other side of campus, other sorcerers in tow feeling just as useless as they were forced away from the fight.

What was once a burning passion turned into a bitter cold resentment. All she could think as she ran away from the fight was how dare Inumaki dismiss her? The bitterness in her mood only festered the more she grew to blame him for sending her away.

The next time their paths cross, she’d make sure to give him a piece of her mind.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 5 YEARS LATER ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Coming back to Jujutsu Tech Tokyo wasn’t exactly a choice (y/n) would have made for herself, she could admit that.

She’d never wanted to become a teacher. The idea of continuing the cycle of turning young people into jujutsu sorcerers made her stomach knot. So no matter how persistent the Kyoto and Tokyo branches were- she wanted nothing to do with it. She’d continue her own work- privately- exorcizing curses for a living, but she swore she’d bite the curb before getting involved any further than that.

Curb, meet (y/n).

Standing outside the grand double doors that was the main entrance to the Tokyo school, she couldn’t help but let her shoulders sink. Since graduating a few years ago and entering the real world as an adult, (y/n) had spent most of her time alone. Living alone, working alone- she’d quickly learned it was the only way to be when you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. Letting people in was a risk, getting attached to someone was a risk, it felt like it was just easier to function as a singular unit. No one to look out for but herself.

The doors opened before she could even knock. Before she even gave turning around and disappearing a second thought.

“(y/l/n)!”

Itadori Yuji was just as she remembered him. So outgoing it would be inappropriate if he wasn’t completely genuine. With a large grin he ushered her inside, his mouth running a hundred miles a minute, going on about how long it had been, how she was doing, how he was doing, how happy he was to see her in Tokyo.

“I mean, it’s been what, five years? You look great! Here follow me, the others are waiting just down here…”

It’s only then that she finally finds her voice and cuts off his eager rambling.

“Others?” She repeats the word her mind had caught onto. “I thought this was a quick in and out sort of thing”

Yuji could be dense at times, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed on him with an accusatory glare behind them. So with a smile that seemed more sheepish than reassuring, he waved his hand in a dismissive manner and blew a raspberry. (y/n’s) expression didn’t waver.

“In and out, two weeks, it’s all relative, right?” He joked, and now she’s gaping at him with widened eyes that seemed all the more upset.

“Two weeks?” Her voice raises just a little, not enough to yell, but enough that her exasperation was evident. “Itadori, you said you just needed a bit of a fill in, two weeks is not a fill in!”

He’s walking faster down the hall, not that it was difficult for (y/n) to keep up with him. Two pairs of loafers clicking loudly and quickly against the tile, they almost looked like they were playing a game of chase.

“My hands are tied here, it’s really not up to-”

Just as Itadori lifts his hands in mock surrender, he’s frozen in place, a familiar energy coursing through his body that keeps him stuck like a statue.

(y/n) finally gets in front of him, with her hands encased in cursed energy and a scowl on her face.

“You’re being dodgy,” She states, eyeing the way he clearly tries to fight her cursed technique to no avail. “Why do you really need me here for two weeks?”

When she’d gotten a call from an unknown number a few days ago, she hadn’t expected to hear Itadori Yuji. She also hadn’t expected to hear him reaching out for help, backup as he called it. “It’ll be so quick, in and out!” He’d promised. “And then you can go home and I won’t bother you again!”

Why she’d actually agreed to fly out to Tokyo for this mystery backup, she wasn’t sure. Something must have clouded her judgment at that moment. Now she just feels like facepalming. How ridiculous was she for not asking more questions?

“Okay, okay,” Yuji huffs, clearly fighting hard against the stun of her cursed energy. He’d seen it in action once or twice, but that would have happened years ago, and he certainly never felt it’s effect on himself before.

Paralyze was an interesting technique, with the ability to stun anything she pleases, (y/n) could render her enemies frozen and helpless with a slight wave of her hand. Of course, it’s effects only last as long as she’s capable of holding them still. The stronger the opponent, the weaker her technique. So it doesn’t take long before Yuji’s squirming out of it’s hold, and soon (y/n) drops her technique completely.

“In case you haven’t noticed… we’re low on sorcerers around here,” He admits defeatedly. (y/n) stays quiet, she didn’t need to say that she’d obviously noticed the empty halls and echo of every noise they made. “Fushiguro’s busy with Zen’in politics, and ropes Maki into it more than she cares to be involved. Okkotsu’s never free from assignments, Kugisaki and I take everything he can’t… we’re stretched thin, you know?”

(y/n) nods in understanding, but she’s still waiting for him to explain the part where she comes in.

“And you need me to…? Take some exorcisms off your plate?” She tries to fill in the blank, but judging by the half wince Yuji gives her, she supposes her guess is wrong.

“Well… we actually need someone to help with the training aspect of-”

“Not teaching” Her voice is monotone as she hopes he’s not about to tell her she’s been called here to chaperone a bunch of kids.

“Teaching…” Yuji finishes slowly, drawing out the word as if it will make the blow less painful. It only makes it more painfully awkward.

“Itadori-!” Just as she starts to scold him, upset that she’s been lured out here under false pretenses, only to be asked to do the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do, they’re greeted by the rest of their company.

“(y/l/n)-san! Long time no see!”

Panda is as warm of a presence as ever, though (y/n) had only met him a handful of times, he greets her as if they were long time friends being reunited. For a brief moment, she actually relaxes.

And then she sees him.

Inumaki Toge somehow looks exactly the same, and like a completely different person from the last time she’d seen him. His hair was a little shaggier, still covering his forehead and just barely sweeping over the deep violet eyes that feel more familiar than they should. He still wears a collar with his uniform, a soft looking gray material that sits above the crisp black jacket that matches hers.

The more noticeable change, however, is his lack of a right arm. (y/n) tries not to stare directly at the space where his bicep ends and his forearm was supposed to begin, but she’s sure he notices the way her eyes dart to and from the missing limb, quickly looking back at his face again.

She’s not too thrilled about looking at him at all, so she directs her attention back towards Panda, clearing her throat of the lump that seemed to form in the matter of seconds.

“Hi,” She greets him, and only him it seems, before going right into the matter at hand. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help you out here-”

“I’m so glad you came!” Panda cheers like she’s doing him the favor of the century. “We really need all the help we can get, but I just want the best of the best!”

(y/n) swallows thickly before another lump can form.

“And I knew you’d help out. Besides, we can finally catch up! It’s been a long time” Panda continues chatting despite the clear discomfort on (y/n’s) face. She wonders if he’s trying to guilt her, or if he’s just so delusional in thinking this was some special reunion. She really hardly knew the Tokyo students back then.

Maki was probably the only one she’d be all that comfortable with, and she was nowhere to be found.

(y/n) shifted her weight back and forth, trying to find the right thing to say that would get her out of here as fast as possible.

“We can have some tea and chat about what your role will look like for the time being-”

“I can’t” She blurts out. Wrong thing to say. The hallway feels even more empty now, her short words echoing off the high ceilings, leaving no room for misinterpretation between the other three sorcerers.

“Huh?” Panda hums, his head tilted to the side in his confusion. “You can’t stay?”

“Look, I’m sorry and all, but when you called me I thought you needed help with a curse, okay? Not…” Her hands wave around vaguely gesturing to the space around them. “Playing teacher”

Inumaki snorts, and her eyes flicker towards him almost challengingly, as if asking what she’d said so wrong, but there was nothing but amusement in the part of his expression she could see, and she turns back towards Panda.

“I’m no use for that, alright?” She sighs. “I would’ve told you, had I known, but this one-” Her finger points towards Itadori, who suddenly looks like he’s been caught red handed, “Decided to be cryptic. So, Sorry, but no”

“I see,” Panda replied, sounding like some of his energy had been drained by her rejection. “Well, we could still have that tea?”

She should’ve turned down that offer as well, because tea led to chatting, and chatting led to bonding, and it wasn’t long before Panda was pushing his offer again.

“It’s just… the kids could really use some help with their training…” He says as he stares into the near empty cup in his paw. Somehow it looks even smaller when held by him. “They’re good kids, you know? Respectful, kind… it would be so simple… monitoring some cursed technique use, maybe going on some Grade Four assignments…”

(y/n) stares boredly at him as he goes on, describing the job like it’s the simplest position in the world. As if she couldn’t remember watching the stress of it affect her own teacher back in the day. Utahime’s frown lines were irreversible now. Although that could partially be due to her Tokyo counterpart…

Her tired gaze shifts towards Yuji, who’s holding his mug in both hands and grinning from ear to ear. Too hopeful for his own good. The corners of her lips twitch, an undeniable urge to reciprocate his boundless joy. She has to look away from him.

Inumaki appears less interested in the whole scheme. He’d leaned away from the table as soon as he’d finished his tea. With his hand planted behind him to keep him propped up, he’s the image of disinterest. He’s not even watching Panda’s attempts at swaying (y/n’s) opinion, his eyes wandering the common room’s wall. (y/n) finds herself also checking out the wall, trying to find whatever could hold his attention more than his friend’s useless rambling. Besides a few picture frames and worn wallpaper, she can’t find anything worth her attention.

But when she turns away from it, Inumaki must have also lost interest, because he was looking directly at her. She freezes up for a moment, a feeling eerily similar to her own cursed technique, before it creeps away and she finds herself averting her gaze as rapidly as she’s able.

Which lands her looking right back at Panda, who’s watching her with an open mouthed grin, clearly awaiting an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.

Shit, she hadn’t been listening?

“What did you say?” She asked, her eyebrows raising with a small hum at the end of her question.

“I’ll make sure that you aren’t bothered like this again,” Panda repeats his earlier statement. “If we weren’t at the end of our rope, I wouldn’t be asking like this now… but it seems this is just the position we’ve found ourselves in,” He sighs, furry shoulders slumping. “I’m just trying to do what I can to provide the best resources for these youngsters but I’m only one panda, and the world will always need sorcerers out there to-”

“Alright then”

In an instant, three pairs of eyes land on her, shock evident in all of them. She can’t pretend to be surprised by their astonishment, as she’d been pretty stubborn prior to now. She could say that she had a change of heart, that he swayed her with his kind words and positive outlook on guiding the students in his care.

But truthfully? She didn’t think she’d forgive herself if she made Panda cry.

“You- you mean it?” Panda asks, disbelief evident in his tone, and in the way his mouth stayed hanging open.

“Yes,” She can’t help a short laugh escaping through her exhale. “On the condition you don’t ask me any more favors” She adds, her finger in the air as she awaited Panda’s confirmation.

“Heard! Deal!” He hollered, his gape turning into a grin as his paw snatched up her hand and shook it wildly. “You don’t understand how much this means, (y/l/n)-san!”

“Oh, I’m starting to” She says with a wince of a smile as she pulls her hand away, flexing her sore fingers.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying!” Yuji leaps up from the ground and is at the door before (y/n) could even stand. “And I’ll let someone know you’ll need a few changes in uniform, too” He adds as an afterthought, noticing her already wrinkled jacket from the last hour of sitting hunched over on the ground for tea.

Briefly glancing between Panda and Inumaki, she realizes she’s left with no choice but to get up and follow after Yuji, who seemed to be treating the whole ordeal like it was Christmas day.

Whether or not she could feel Inumaki’s gaze following her as she stood and left, she didn’t make clear. Nonetheless his eyes lingered at the door even once she’d gone.

It’s not until Panda lets out a full belly laugh that the cursed speech user is pulled back into reality, and he furrows his brows at his old friend.

“Bonito flakes” He mutters with a shake of his head, before getting up and stretching his arm. Leaning all of his weight on it for a while had it feeling tender, but the scowl on his face was completely due to Panda.

“What?” Panda asks, his voice hitting a higher octave, knowing exactly why his friend was being snarky. “You stared at her the whole time, I’m not even sure you blinked!”

Toge rolls his eyes just as he rolls his shoulder to work out the soreness. So full of shit, he thinks, but he can’t help the growing smile behind his collar, as he can’t exactly deny the accusation.

But what can he say? He’d only met the girl for a short time, years ago, and it was enough to leave a lasting impression. At least enough that he was eager to meet her again- even if she didn’t share the thrill of her visit. He’d just have to find a way to help her enjoy her time here.

“Good luck getting her to actually enjoy it here,” Panda huffs, reading his mind as always. Toge gives him a curious look, waiting for any bright ideas. Unfortunately, Panda wasn’t exactly optimistic about (y/n’s) time here. “Maki calls her the off grid sorcerer for a reason,”

Toge wants to call him out on that, because sometimes Maki does saki bombs and likes to gossip, but for some reason, the words fail him.

“She’s dodged every request to teach, or even show up at any events held at the schools,” Panda explains. “Maki says she hates jujutsu sorcery”

That earns another eye roll from Toge. It just didn’t make sense, who could she hate jujutsu sorcery, when she was actively still a jujutsu sorcerer?

“Ikura” Toge dismisses him with a lame wave of his hand. It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to get into a stupid argument. Maybe it was silly to feel this defensive over a high school crush that probably barely remembered him, but if Panda was going to be this childish, then so could he.

“Fine, do your best,” Panda says, standing to follow his friend out of the room. “But I’d be impressed if you found a way to make her feel otherwise”

Challenge accepted, Toge thinks to himself as he meanders back towards his own quarters.

Step one would be getting to know her, properly, like he’d wanted to years ago. And step two would be finding a way to make her stay.

That couldn’t be too hard, could it?

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

(y/n) never forgot the revenge she swore she’d take on Inumaki had she ever seen his face again. She can’t ignore the small spike of bitterness in her chest whenever she sees him.

But she’s not sure what to do with that feeling now.

She’s standing in the classroom that supposedly belonged to Maki when she was around. It was empty, too early for any students to arrive just yet, but she’d wanted to get there early. That way she’d be settled in and ready for whatever this day was going to be. She’d been mulling over what she was supposed to do when the students got here for so long that she’s not sure when she’d wandered to the window and began to watch the scene below.

Outside, Inumaki is standing on the steps with three students- probably his students- and he’s making various rapid hand movements. Wait, was that sign language? She was on the second story, so even if she’d opened the window she probably wouldn’t have heard what they were talking about, but even without listening in, it seemed that the students understood their teacher perfectly.

She was certain he hadn’t used any sign language yesterday, she tried to recall the events of the day, but it was so fast paced and confusing from start to finish that she just couldn’t remember any communications from Inumaki’s end.

Besides a sarcastic chuckle.

“Are you (y/l/n)-senpai?”

She almost jumps as she turns around, not having heard the footsteps approaching the classroom.

There stood two students, a boy and a girl, each wearing the same uniform. The familiar black jackets and crisp slacks had her stomach knotting up with the realization of what she was doing here.

“Just (y/l/n),” She corrects, her voice sounding a bit strained. She clears her throat before any more weird sounds could be made. “I’m not your teacher, I’m just… filling in”

“So… like a substitute teacher?” The boy deadpans.

Great. He’s got an attitude. If only she were Mai, she’d have that snark smacked out of his tone with one, well, smack.

“Hardly. More of a supervisor,” (y/n) replies with a tight lipped smile. “So… what is it you’re working on right now?”

“Cursed techniques” The girl replies. Her voice is much softer than her snarky little friend. There’s a politeness in it that (y/n’s) grateful for. She’s not really looking for these kids to respect her, but if they were nice it’d definitely make the next couple weeks go by smoothly.

“Easy enough,” (y/n) shrugs. “Why don’t you explain your techniques to me and we’ll go from there”

As she should have expected, it was not easy enough. All those two did was argue, and when they weren’t arguing, they were struggling through their cursed techniques like a five year old getting their training wheels taken off. If that five year old was blind and toppled off the bike and broke both legs in the process. (y/n) found herself ready for a beer by lunchtime, and she wasn’t even sure if there was any alcohol on campus. She’d have to do a grocery run later for some necessities. If every day was going to be like this, she’d need a twenty-four pack.

She’d come out to the lawn for her lunch break, a blank notebook and pen in hand with the hopes of drawing up some kind of lesson plan. A grocery list seemed more like the pressing matter now, though.

It must just be a spacey day for her, because when Inumaki Toge approaches the table, she realizes she hadn’t noticed him until he was standing right there before her. His hand is in his pocket, and despite his face being half covered, she can tell he’s wearing a kind look.

Not knowing how she felt about him yet, she shifts in her seat on the bench. She’s sure it’s rude to stare, and it’s dumb to expect him to explain what he wanted, but she’s not sure what to say either.

“Mustard leaf?”

Huh?

Her confusion must’ve been evident, because Inumaki pulls his hand out of his pocket and points at her notebook and pen.

“Oh,” She mumbles absentmindedly, before passing the pen and paper to him. “Is that how you ask for things?”

She cringes at her own question, and if she wasn’t already embarrassed she would have smacked her hand to her head, too. Inumaki doesn’t seem bothered though, as he just nods his head and begins to write in her notebook.

When he hands it back to her he keeps hold of her pen. Was this his way of trying to have a conversation? This time she’s not stupid enough to actually ask that, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she grabs the notebook to read what he wrote quickly.

Hi.

Her eyes flicker between the page and him a few times, disbelief turning her lips into a small smile.

“Hi…” She replies, quieter than intended.

Inumaki chuckles, and beckons her to pass the notebook back to him. (y/n) has a feeling the rest of her lunch hour would look like this. This time she watches him as he scrawls on the page again, and this time it seems he’s writing more than two letters.

With his attention on his writing, she doesn’t feel so worried about staring at his bright violet eyes. The last time she’d really gotten a good look at them was five years ago, and she was sure she’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like his. That still holds true.

Inumaki passes the notebook back again.

Are you having a good first day?

She snorts, and Inumaki takes that to mean it wasn’t a great start.

“I couldn’t have been more clear that I wasn’t meant to be a teacher,” (y/n) shakes her head, and leans back a bit into the bench. Inumaki’s eyes shift to the space next to her, and she finds herself shifting to make room for him to sit. He doesn’t need a verbal offer in order to sit beside her. “I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy this”

Inumaki holds his hand out for the notebook once more, and (y/n) passes it to him. She wonders if he ever got tired of communicating like this. But just as the question passes her mind, she’s sure he’s grown used to the exhaustion of living this way long ago. So she begins to wonder when he began to accept it. As he writes, she realizes she actually has a lot of curiosities surrounding him.

The old bitterness begins to chip away the more she lets her mind wander. Maybe that bitterness was childish and stupid, anyways. Or, maybe it was just that she was a child when that grudge had taken form.

Toge passes her the notebook again. She can’t see that he’s smiling, but there’s crinkles at the corners of his eyes that tell her he must be.

Have you tried drinking on the job?

(y/n) glances between the note and Toge, who seems to be barely holding it together behind his mask. It’s not until she lets out the faintest of laughs that he begins to cackle, shaking his head asif to say ‘I’m just kidding!’ as though she couldn’t have put that together.

Maybe Inumaki Toge wasn’t at all who she thought he was.

It sort of turned out that she hadn’t known him at all.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

It didn’t take long for a little routine to be established. It seemed to have happened without anyone’s say in it. (y/n) would find a spot for lunch and Inumaki just seemed to gravitate towards that spot. They’d eat their lunches and grade papers together while passing a notebook back and forth for communication, and it just seemed to… work.

Some days (y/n) would even write her responses underneath his own written words. Sometimes it just seemed like the fair thing to do, but she couldn’t deny, the peace and quiet could be nice.

Toge has to tap the end of his pencil against the table a few times to get (y/n) to snap out of her brain fog and finally notice the note he’d written her. She gives him an apologetic look once consciousness had brightened her eyes again, before directing her attention to the notebook.

Toge smiles to himself, already going back to the paper he was grading.

I’ve got an assignment in Yokohama later. Just a Grade Two though. Want to come with? :)

(y/n’s) brow lifts in his direction, but he’s too busy reading one of his students’ work to notice. Her eyes only liner for a few extra seconds before she makes a hum to get his attention. He mimics the hum.

“All this work aging you faster? Is that what you’re telling me?” She asks. Her finer absentmindedly taps at his neat handwriting. “Can’t handle assignments alone anymore?”

Inumaki scoffs, his eyes briefly flickering away from his work, just long enough to show his lack of amusement with her dry form of teasing. He doesn’t get much more done before he’s bringing their talking notebook back to his side of the table and writing in it again. (y/n) doesn’t bother to go back to her own work. After five days of this little routine she’s come to realize this block of time in her day wasn’t meant for getting work done. It was meant for…

She gets the feeling Inumaki’s smiling to himself under his collar.

… whatever this was.

He looks up at her when he’s finished, catching her eyes already on him, and he’s sure that she blushes just a little bit, but any trace of it is gone when she reaches over for the notebook and lifts it to read. A strategic choice to cover the lower half of her face. Toge tries not to feel too defeated, it’s only fair after all.

I meant to hang out, dummy. I don’t mean to brag you’d only slow me down out there. But I do know a great tea shop.

She’s glad that the notebook hides her face, because she can’t have him seeing how quickly a few words can make her smile. Only of course because she doesn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

There’s been a few occurrences of that feeling in the past couple days of spending her lunch breaks with Inumaki. An odd feeling, like there’s a lump in her throat, but her heartbeat starts to get ahead of itself. It’s like adrenaline, but seemingly without a cause. So far she’d been able to brush the feeling off, trying not to think too much of it.

“You would be grateful if you had a partner like me out there,” She says matter of factly, before dropping the notebook back on the table. “Sending you on a Grade Two mission, you almost have to wonder if the higher ups think you’re slow enough on your own?”

That earns her another scoff, this time accompanied by an even longer blank stare. She has to bite back her smile before it can grow too wide, but she can’t help a little laugh at his uninterested expression. For as much of a jokester as Inumaki was, he sure didn’t react when he was the one being teased.

“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” (y/n) huffs, finally looking back at her stack of papers that she should’ve graded by now. “Tea does sound good. Let me know when you’re headed out later”

Again, she ignores the fluttery feeling when they swap phones to exchange numbers so they could form a plan later. It was unrelated, she’s sure. But she’s still not so sure what that feeling was all about to begin with.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

There was a skip to Inumaki’s step that couldn’t go unnoticed, especially not by his colleagues, who happened to watch him heading out to the courtyard and decided to involve themselves without even a single word shared.

“I’ve never seen you off to a mission so jazzed!” Itadori practically sings, his grin wide, his eyebrows dancing, oh, he’s so onto him.

“Bonito flakes”

“So you didn’t brush your hair before going on an assignment?” Panda accuses, but his paw gets swatted away before he can run his hand through the luscious blonde locks of perfectly clean and dried hair.

No one showers before an assignment. What’s the point?

“Bonito flakes!” Toge repeats himself a little louder this time, his eyes darting around the area to be sure no one else was around to hear this interaction.

This doesn’t go unseen by his friends- who seem extra persistent on bothering him today.

“Oh wow! So it’s like a… date assignment?” Itadori asks. He makes the extra effort to also ensure no one else was lingering around, his grin only growing as he checks over both shoulders before lowering his voice. “That sounds hot, good for you man”

Toge rolls his eyes, then shakes his head.

“What are you up to then?” Panda asks.

“It’s not a date?” Itadori’s grin falls into a frown.

Toge’s hand moves in a swift motion, from a fist with his thumb jutted out to his palm up so quick if you’d blink you would’ve missed it. Somehow he’d managed to pour as much attitude into his signed question of ‘how?’ in one little hand movement as possible. It’s clear it works too, because Panda winces and Itadori begins to scratch the back of his neck.

Sure, Inumaki had been excited to spend some time with (y/n) away from the school. Maybe he had taken a shower before his assignment, so what? It was normal to want to be presentable right? He just wanted to be decent company…

“Oh, you’ve got it bad!” Panda hollers, not seeming to care that his voice booms and echos off the high ceiling, likely bouncing down all the corridors for anyone to hear.

Today, Toge is grateful that jujutsu society is dying.

“Bonito flakes!” He hisses, smacking his bear friend as hard as he could. It wasn’t hard enough, as the belting laughter was even louder than his voice.

“Not too hard to find you guys, huh?”

Toge doesn’t hide the fact that he nearly leaps out of his skin as he swivels around to see (y/n) standing there, an amused look on her face as she eyes the laughing pair, before turning towards the cursed speech user with a more curious expression. Being a sorcerer of his caliber, she was surprised she was able to startle him at all. But it’s clear when his eyes first land on her, it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.

He’s quick to calm down, relaxation returning to his shoulders and the only tension remaining in his body coming from the worry that his so called friends were going to say something stupid like-

“Wow you’re in uniform! Haven’t seen Toge take up a partner in a while. Unless Yuuta’s around,” Panda says, and (y/n) merely shrugs, looking over her usual attire. “You’re probably a better date than Yuuta, though”

“Ikura” Toge hisses, side eyeing his oldest friend with a look in his eye warning him that his next words wouldn’t be rice ball ingredients.

“I think Yuuta would be a good date” Yuji said thoughtfully, eyes wandering about as though he were really considering the date-ability of the older sorcerer.

It does the trick in moving the group’s attention away from the previous awkward thing, this one being far more enticing to latch onto, and while normally Toge would participate in the goofing off, at the moment he can only feel relief that (y/n) hadn’t seemed to dwell on the ‘date’ comment.

“He’d be a good date if he could sit down for long enough to actually date” Panda replies, and it’s not long before he and Yuji have launched themselves into an argument about it.

In the heat of the fight, (y/n’s) eyes catch Toge’s, and it only takes one motion of her head before they’re both speeding out of there.

“I didn’t realize they were crushing on Okkotsu so hard,” She’s the first to speak, once they’re far enough away there’s no chance of anyone overhearing. “If I knew him better I would’ve given my two cents” She added in a near mutter, clearly meant for her own amusement under her breath, but Toge heard and asked about it anyways.

“Mustard leaf?”

“Like I said, I don’t really know the guy-” She started to protest, but Toge clearly had invested an interest in her opinion.

“Mustard leaf mustard leaf mustard leaf-”

“Alright!” She has to shout over his incessant pestering. “He seems like a good guy and all but he’s not… my preference in company. Is that good enough?”

His collar is zipped up as per usual, but his cheeky grin seems to permeate through it anyways. (y/n) has to roll her eyes to remind him just how ridiculous of a conversation this was. Reiterating the fact that she’d barely met Okkotsu Yuuta once didn’t seem to do the trick in explaining that she couldn’t exactly form an opinion on him when they hadn’t even been introduced to one another, merely crossed paths back in the day when the end of the world seemed to closing in.

“Salmon cod roe”

But the world hadn’t ended. And now somehow, she found herself here. Teaching in Tokyo, and keeping the company of a cursed speech user from the notorious Inumaki Clan. And… she enjoyed herself.

She hoped it didn’t show too much, keeping her expression neutral on the ride to Yokohama as Toge scrolled through the case file of his assignment. Occasionally he’d tilt his phone in her direction so she could read up on it as well, sometimes she’d give him her thoughts on it, but the few words that came out were nothing compared to the calculations she was making behind her eyes. He could tell just from the look in her eyes that she had more plots in her mind than the small things she shared.

Toge wondered if she was always silent when she schemed, or if this was her attempt at not overstepping a non-existent boundary. Truthfully, he would’ve loved to hear her thoughts on how best to exorcize this curse. He would have found a way to ask her, but he didn’t want all of their conversation tonight to revolve around work. Jujutsu, curses, and everything in between was on the back burner for now. Or at least, once he wrapped up this assignment.

And as expected, the assignment took less time than the time they spent traveling. (y/n) barely got a good look at the Grade Two before it was told to drop dead and- well, it dropped dead. She didn’t exactly expect Inumaki to need any assistance, he’d made it pretty clear that her company wasn’t needed on the assignment. However, seeing him in action up close was…

It’s just that she’d somehow let herself forget just how powerful the Inumaki Clan was. Maybe she’d separated Toge from the rest of the clan in her mind, but watching him exorcize a curse and then zip up his collar again in the matter of a minute and a half was…

She has to clear her throat and make herself appear busy checking the content of her purse as they leave the site. The heart of Yokohama, and the tea shop, was a little bit of a walk. Luckily Inumaki was busy gulping down two- no, three- bottles of cough medicine. By the time the third is gulped down, (y/n) finds her voice. Her thoughts, however, are still a bit muddled.

“Do you want to stop for another?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mini bottle he’d just shoved into his pocket. “Looks like there’s a convenience store right here”

His eyes follow her gaze, but there’s an uncertainty in them as he seemingly ignores the offer.

“What?” (y/n) frowns as they grow nearer to the store without planning on stopping in. “Clearly your throat hurts, since you’re throwing back that medicine like it’s tequila”

That earns her a curious look, a raised eyebrow questioning her choice of drink. But this time, it’s her turn to ignore him.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick” She says, turning to head into the store with or without him.

Toge huffs, but finds his feet dragging behind her path anyways.

(y/n) hovers around as Toge picks up two more bottles of cough syrup. She makes a face when he chooses bubblegum, her nose wrinkling at the all-too childish choice. Toge’s question of her disgust doesn’t need to be voiced with a rice ball ingredient.

“Bubblegum?” She asked, eyes locking on the medicine in his hand before looking up at him again. “Are you five?”

His eyes roll, but it’s quick enough that he’s still able to catch the smile she’s trying to bite back.

She might not have his little language perfectly translated in her mind, but she has a pretty good feeling that he’s cursing her out with a few muttered ikuras under his breath. She barely hides her laughter as she follows him to the counter.

It’s hard not to notice the way the clerk stares. She knows they’re not trying to be rude, they are an odd pair at the counter. In matching black uniforms and three arms between them- not to mention Toge’s in a collar that makes him look like he could be casing the joint- but still, something unsettles her the longer the girl on the other side of the counter stares.

Knowing that saying something about the staring would make things worse, she decides to keep her mouth shut as Toge exchanges the money for his medicine. But that doesn’t mean she’s not making a perfectly clear point by staring down the cashier with an intensity she’s only ever felt while staring a curse straight in it’s soulless eyes. She gets a much more pleasing reaction from the non-sorcerer though. As soon as their eyes cross paths, they’re much quicker in retrieving Toge’s change and receipt. (y/n) can’t help the smug smile on her face once they’re able to turn and leave the store, the clerk barely able to mumble out a ‘have a good night’.

Toge may have had a small bit of tunnel vision opening up his medicine and chugging down the relieving, bubblegum tasting fluid. But he was a trained jujutsu sorcerer, he could tell when there was suspicious activity in his peripherals. And (y/n’s) fixed gaze on the corner store’s window was rather odd.

He gives her a look, but she’s more focused than he had been, and it takes a small nudge to her elbow to disconnect her hunter’s glare.

“What?” She asks, innocent and curious.

With his collar unzipped from his earlier medicine-chugging, she can see the awkward smile he wears as he questions her silently. She knows what he’s trying to ask, but she feigns confusion and tries to brush off the moment. Inumaki lets her, but only on the condition that she seems to give him the attention she’d previously fixed on the store.

With his throat feeling healed and the pleasantness of bubblegum replacing the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, Toge continues on their walk towards the tea shop he’d been looking forward to all day. One cup of tea from there would do better work than five bottles of cough syrup- no matter the delicious pink flavor.

(y/n) tries to put the experience at the corner store behind her as they walk in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t her place to take offense from the staring anyways, she’s sure Inumaki’s been on the receiving end of odd looks and lingering eyes his whole life.

Still, it makes her uneasy to think about him being treated differently than anyone else. It wasn’t fair.

Wanting to put an end to their silence, Inumaki pulls out his phone and starts typing.

[inumaki toge]: the least you could do is be the chatty one btw

(y/n) feels the buzz of a notification in her pocket, but she pays it no mind at all. It takes a laugh and a nudge from Inumaki for her to realize he’s the one texting her, and she laughs awkwardly with him as she pulls her phone out.

They continue to text rapidly back and forth as they walk.

[y/n]: it’s rude to text when you have company btw

[inumaki toge]: would u rather i just curse u then

[y/n]: would U rather i just DIE then ??

[inumaki toge]: ur just grouchy that u didn’t get to exorcize that curse :p

She looks up at him then, fixing him a glare that just couldn’t have been conveyed the same way from an emoji. He stares back at her for a minute, a smile that was a little too cocky on his face. Her hard set eyes wander his face for a moment, she’d still never gotten used to seeing those markings on display, but the furrow in her brow remained.

He turns away to type again, and seconds later her phone vibrates in her hands.

[inumaki toge]: i looked pretty cool tho didn’t i? was i impressive? i’m thinking about being the first jujutsu influencer.

She barks out a laugh so unexpected that they both share the same look of surprise on their faces. A softer, more bashful laugh comes out at her as she nods her head in confirmation.

“Yeah, Inumaki. You looked very cool” Even the word comes out like it’s an immature compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. He beams back at her.

[inumaki toge]: just toge.

“Okay” (y/n) nods at her phone, her lips moving like she’s going to call him by his preferred name, but no sound comes out, and she finds herself closing her mouth just as quickly.

[inumaki toge]: otherwise i’ll feel like ur teacher. and that’s weird.

“Well, to be fair, you’re sort of my teacher,” She says, turning away from her phone to speak directly to him. “You know, you’ve taught me how to teach,” She clarifies. With an absent mind she tucks her phone back into her pocket. “I know I agreed to it and all, but I probably would’ve walked out a few days ago if it weren’t for you. I definitely don’t have the patience for this job- or any qualifications, actually,”

Toge snorts and shakes his head with his disbelief in her. She might not have sought out this job, but she didn’t have to be so hard on herself.

“Seriously, I think my students would have killed each other if it weren’t for your guidance. Now they actually… almost tolerate each other. It’s a miracle, really”

Inumaki types on his phone again.

[inumaki toge]: don’t give us too much credit. that would’ve happened eventually

“You think?” (y/n) scoffs, recalling how her pair of students were at each other’s throats when she met them.

[inumaki toge]: ofc. they’re crazy about each other XD

“What!?” (y/n) shrieks as her eyes scan over his text a few more times before turning to him. “Did you get cursed back there or something?” She accuses, a wild look in her eye and a grin of disbelief on her lips. But a smile nonetheless, Toge returns it. “They can’t stand each other!”

He shrugs a shoulder, his smile softening with his gaze as he watches her struggle to understand where he was coming from.

“You know I don’t let them spar with each other right? They’re too rough! They’ll hurt each other more than they could get hurt out on an assignment”

Toge chuckles, his teeth showing through his grin as he shakes his head at her before sending another message. His amusement practically glowed through his features, so much so (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him while he was texting.

[inumaki toge]: sounds like rising tension to me~

[inumaki toge]: fr tho they had a thing for each other before you took over for fushiguro. they’re at each other’s throats 24hrs a day but only cuz they got it bad.

“Got it bad?” (y/n) repeats in a mumble to herself. She gives him a deadpan look, silently telling him she thought he was an insane person, but Toge only grins back at her.

“Salmon cod roe” He shrugs again, but before the conversation could go any further, he’s pointing to their destination and they’re crossing the street.

As they enter the tea shop, (y/n) makes a mental note not to forget what he’d said. Maybe she would feel differently when she saw her students tomorrow. Inumaki- Toge- had known them longer than her, maybe he was onto something.

It’s pretty quiet inside, only a few other people sitting around the small cafe. Some with company, talking quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere for the others dining alone, accompanied only by a book or their studies. The quietness, surprisingly, isn’t unsettling to (y/n). She actually smiles contentedly as they find a two-seated table near the window. There’s menus already placed at the table, although small, their detailing is adorable. (y/n’s) compelled to pick one up and scan over it, despite having known exactly what she was going to order before walking in.

Toge lifts the other menu off the table, just enough to appear as though he was giving it a glance, but anyone paying attention would have seen that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of his company since they’d sat down.

“I think I’ll just get what I- what?”

(y/n) starts to speak, but when she lifts her gaze from the paper she finds Toge staring at her so blatantly she can’t be bothered to finish her thought. Her voice softens upon catching his eyes, suddenly nervous, although she can’t explain why, perhaps she’d just worried that she’d disturbed the quiet peace of the shop.

Toge shakes his head, assuring her there was nothing on his mind, and while she relaxes some knowing that he wasn’t trying to silently warn her about some unknown rule of speaking, her heart had yet to stop skipping every other beat as she waits for the rest of the explanation as to why he’d been staring.

He opens his mouth, and for a second the both of them almost forget. Forget that he’s not going to say something of substance, something real. They both wait for that split second for him to say what’s on his mind. And they share a sheepish smile when he closes his mouth again, biting his lip before the smile could do a 180 and kill the vibe.

(y/n) winces for him when his eyes return to the menu, and she watches his hand reach for the zipper to his collar. She’s compelled to tell him to leave it open- although she doesn’t find the courage for such words before a waitress strolls by for their order.

Toge points to the tea he wants on the menu, and she finds herself following suit when it’s her turn to order. She can feel his eyes on her, wide with surprise as she wordlessly places her order, but once the waitress disappears, it’s silent between them again.

She struggles to look at him, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t help herself from doing so. He’d closed his collar only halfway, barely enough to cover the markings on his face, and yet enough to reveal whenever he smiled or winced or frowned. Her eyes keep wandering around the room before going back to him, again and again, each time looking somewhere new. The smallest peek of black ink near his mouth, the wisps of blonde hair that fell at the tips of his ears, the violet eyes that seemed to hold all the words his mouth couldn’t say. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to look at him- it was the intensity.

“You’re being really quiet” She says after a few minutes of looking and looking away. Toge’s stunned for a moment, before a laugh bursts through at the odd comment.

The corner of her lips twitch momentarily, proud of her attempt to make him laugh working.

He pulls his phone out, laying it on the table to type easier with one hand, poking about on the screen like a child learning how to use a keyboard. (y/n) pulls her own phone out as she awaits his message, but she keeps her attention on him as she does. With his focus on the screen, there’s less of an intensity for her to stare into.

[inumaki toge]: found this place on an assignment here last year. the tea is magic. better than rct

“That so?” (y/n) hums as she’s typing back a response. Toge hums in confirmation. She doesn’t realize that as she types, he keeps his attention on her, just as she’d done for him.

[y/n]: i’ve ordered the same thing since i was a kid, so hopefully it doesn’t disappoint

[inumaki toge]: that’s a lot of pressure to put on tea

[y/n]: no, the pressure is all on you

[inumaki toge]: so it’s my fault if you don’t like the same cup of tea you’ve had all your life?

“Mhm” (y/n) hums, lifting her head from the screen to catch his reaction, only again to find him already staring at her.

The amused smirk she’d been wearing as they texted back and forth faltered, replaced by a soft surprise that Toge grew quite fond of seeing on her, even for a moment. He doesn’t think about how his gaze is so obviously focused on her lips, because he doesn’t really think about anything at all. With a blank mind he’s able to better appreciate her beauty.

(y/n’s) not sure what the look on his face means, she’s not able to read it as well as she’s typically able, and the realization makes her nervous again. She can feel warmth spreading in her cheeks, and a similar feeling spiking in her chest. What was that?

Toge’s eyes shift up to hers, and he lets himself enjoy the way she sits there with her own eyes so wide he knows she’s waiting for him to explain the long silent stare. Momentarily, he’s grateful for an ability such as his. He doesn’t have to deliver an explanation in a timely manner, if at all. He could keep on staring, and try his best to communicate his train of thought with his eyes alone.

“So… how much sign language do you know?” (y/n) asked, her voice quieter than she intended it to be.

It can’t be explained, but everything suddenly feels more intimate now. Like if she were to speak in a volume above a whisper, the rest of the world would come back into view. But the rest of the world remains a watercolor background, and all she knows is sitting at this table.

Toge flattens his hand and shakes it back and forth, indicating a little, before he quickly types at his phone.

[inumaki toge]: learning a little here and there. for the kids really. panda is trying too.

(y/n) nods. “Is there anything worth teaching?”

Toge smiles, and for a few minutes he shows her a few motions for her to repeat before he texts her their meaning. She gets the basics down pretty easy, such as introductions and greetings. He doesn’t know how much he should teach her, but soon enough the waitress is returning with their tea and the topic moves on to something new again anyways.

He waits to take a sip of his, too curious to watch (y/n’s) first reaction to her own drink.

There’s something so plainly pretty about the picture before him that if it wouldn’t be odd, he would raise his phone and snap the picture to retain it’s memory in a physical form. The way she captivates his entire attention has him feeling like he’s seventeen again. Some of it might have to do with the warm lighting, the quiet atmosphere, but his thoughts are on such a simple track of adoration that he doesn’t think too much about how pretty her hands look gently wrapped around the mug- just that they are pretty.

She’s pretty.

And he’s… a goner.

She’s smiling when she lowers her drink after a sip, and Toge releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“It’s good,” She voices her opinion after a moment, her hands still wrapped around the mug even as she rests it on the table. “Definitely worth the trip out here. Even if I didn’t get to have any of the fun”

The movement of Toge’s hand is quick, as he gestures downward before tapping his nose and repeating the same motion. He does it a second time just for the emphasis of trying to communicate something to her. It takes her a moment to understand, but despite having a very minimal understanding of sign language, she comes to her conclusion quicker than he would have thought.

“Fun,” She repeats the motion he’d made, two fingers tapping her nose before bringing her hand downwards towards the table. Toge nods in affirmation, a smile breaking across his face at her quick wit. “This is fun?” She makes her guess at what he’d said, and his smile only widens as he nods again. “This is fun,” The second time she repeated it was to reaffirm the motion in her mind, hoping a mental note would help her remember the small bit of signing for later.

Then, for a third time, she quietly repeats “This is fun”, and Toge seems to understand that she was agreeing with his statement. This is fun. They’re having fun. Together. Like this.

It’s quiet between them as they sip their tea, but it’s not an awkward silence. It’s comfortable, sitting together in the quaint shop and enjoying their warm drinks. Time seems to fly by even without conversation, and they find themselves paying and leaving before they know it.

There seems to be no rush on their walk to the train station. Neither of them even bother to check the schedule on the way. Tokyo would be there no matter what time they returned, they were sure.

The silence lingers for a bit longer, but eventually Toge can’t help but pull out his phone and strike up a conversation.

[inumaki toge]: maybe next time i’ll let you do the exorcizing

(y/n) shoots him a look when she reads his text, her brow raised but the rest of her face so expressionless it’s hard for him to get a read on what she’s thinking. He’s starting to get the feeling that she likes it that way.

[y/n]: next time?

He doesn’t need to text her when he can just nod his head. Her lips twitch, but she manages to keep them in a straight enough line that he still can’t tell what she’s thinking about. Nonetheless, he beams back at her, and he holds her stare for a moment longer than he should have before he’s texting her again.

[inumaki toge]: you seem thrilled

(y/n) lets out a dry laugh at the equally dry message.

“I’m only around a couple more days,” She replies, and the disappointment Toge feels is immediate and obvious in the way he deflates. Still, she continues to explain, “Tokyo might have a curse issue, but it can’t be so bad they have to send their best and brightest every night, hm?”

There’s hesitation in his eyes as he thinks about what he should type out next. (y/n’s) grown rather patient with the way he communicates, so she doesn’t seem to realize that his silence isn’t due to the limitations of Cursed Speech.

Even once he begins typing, his thumb is slow.

[inumaki toge]: you’d be surprised. tokyo might need a little extra help

He glances over at her as she reads his message, and his thumb begins to type out a second message before she could reply first.

[inumaki toge]: you could always stay a little longer

Again, he watches her as she watches her screen. Where her thumbs had previously hovered over her keyboard, she moves them away now. Leaving no intention of texting back a response. Toge feels the pace of his heart begin to slow as the organ plummets to his stomach. Suddenly filled with dread, he fixates his stare on the station ahead of them. He thinks if he were to look at her now, when she’s so clearly rejected the idea, that she would see the disappointment on his face.

Without a word or text shared, the pair get inside and track down the evening schedule. Toge’s pretty sure that there’s a faster pace to her steps than before. The dread only worsens at the thought that suddenly she’s in a rush just to wait for a train.

Once they’re stopped again, (y/n) lets out a sigh and turns towards him. He waits for her to begin her explanation, her rejection, but it takes a few more seconds before she actually voices her thoughts.

“It’s not a surprise… right?” Is the first thing she slowly says, and Toge can’t say he understands what she means. He can’t really say anything, but this is different. “I mean, I agreed to two weeks, you were there,”

His brows furrowed into a bored look, and she winced.

“And I told you I wasn’t cut out for the whole teaching thing, I’ve barely been getting by- and I might hate it sometimes but I do miss assignments you know”

In a stressed, jerky movement, Toge raises his phone and shakes it, reminding her of the offer he’d just given her. (y/n) frowns, and he groans as he types a quick text.

[inumaki toge]: if you really wanted, you could take assignments here

He can tell it doesn’t make a difference when her face doesn’t change upon reading it. He huffs again, a muttered “Ikura” under his breath, which she hears and bristles up to right away.

“Hey,” The offense in her tone is clear, and Toge’s partially surprised she even understood what he meant. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset, I’ve been clear from the minute I got here that I’d be leaving when the time was up. And time’s up”

With a glare that he can’t help, Toge texts her again.

[inumaki toge]: you’re not leaving. you’re running away

“I am not!” She argues, her voice raising more than she wanted it to. A few other people waiting for the train send the pair a dirty look for disrupting the peace and quiet of an empty train station, but she pays them no mind as she continues arguing. “I’m going home. I don’t live here and I don’t want to live here- I didn’t want to be here to begin with, remember?”

[inumaki toge]: but then things changed.

“No, they didn’t” (y/n) replies, focusing on her screen.

[inumaki toge]: yes they did and you know it

“That doesn’t even matter. I was never going to stay”

[inumaki toge]: it does matter. it matters because you don’t really want to leave, and i really don’t want you to go.

Her head darts upward and she stares at him now, the weight of the confession hitting her harder than either of them would have thought. Her typical neutral expression is washed away by something else- something serious, and almost concerned. Her brows are knitted together as she stares at him as if she’s waiting for him to speak. Eyes round and lips parted around words that aren’t coming to her fast enough, they stand silently and stare at each other.

Before the right thing to say could come to her, the ring signaling the train was pulling in began to go off, and shortly after the train entered the station. The expected chaos of it all- the screech of metal on metal, the sudden gust of air whipping around hair and clothes- it feels nonexistent as they stand there together.

Nothing happens. The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and Toge tilts his head to beckon her to follow him onto the car. (y/n) follows a few paces behind. An indescribable but momentary paralyzing sensation buzzing through her legs as she forces them to move.

They take their seats, phones in hand but no messages being typed between them. (y/n’s) leg begins to bounce the longer Toge stares out the window without a thought to share.

She hates the anxious feeling that settles under her skin the longer they sit like this.

“You know…” Her voice is a mumble when she finds the courage to speak, ten minutes into their ride. “It’s not like I hated my time here,”

It does the trick in getting him to look at her, at least. But he makes no effort to text, or sign. Instead, he just stares blankly, telling her that it wasn’t good enough. She frowns, holding his stare.

“And it’s not like I’d never come back”

This time he scoffs, an unamused smile on his face as he shakes his head. The bitterness wafting off of him is almost as strong as his cursed energy. Without words, text, or movement, he’s able to say you’re not coming back, as clear as day.

“I would come back,” (y/n) argues quietly, and his violet eyes drift back to her with the realization that she seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking. If only she would extend the same ability to him, so he wouldn’t have to decipher all the layers of bullshit she uses to cover what she really thinks. “I would” She says it again, a certainty in her eyes that tells him she’s being sincere.

Toge huffs in defeat, unlocking his phone.

[inumaki toge]: what is it that you’re so insistent to go back to?

He doesn’t mean for it to be a harsh message, but that doesn’t make the blow to her ego any easier. But she knows he’s not wrong, either. There’s no family she’s in contact with. Her work leaves her no time for friendships, either. She doesn’t even have a pet. All she has is an undecorated apartment with a fridge that has one box of leftovers that would need to be thrown out upon her return and a perfectly made bed that hasn’t been slept on in weeks- even before she left.

There’s fundamentally nothing for her to go home to.

Her lower lip wobbles, but she’s quick to bite down on it before it could go noticed. Toge’s pretty sure he knows what he saw, though.

Setting his phone on his leg, he reaches his hand out to her. His touch is gentle, but apprehensive as he sets his hand on her wrist. It speaks volumes, though. She can see, and feel, all of the sympathy he’s trying to communicate. With a short squeeze, he pulled his hand away again, much too soon, but he’d said exactly what he needed to say with that movement alone.

Why can’t you stay?

Her mouth opens, “of course I can’t stay!” sitting right at the tip of her tongue, but this time she’s the one with the Cursed Speech, and she couldn’t possibly say it out loud. But it’s there, they both know it’s there, they can practically see it.

(y/n) shuts her mouth, wobbly lips forming into a frown upon seeing Toge’s disappointment in her silence.

She’s known him all of two weeks, and his disapproval wrecks her.

“I…” It’s broken, hardly a word, hardly a syllable, but it’s a start. “What would that say?”

His brows twitch, then draw together. Confusion, maybe concern, is written all over him as his eyes wander her features, doing their best to understand her. She doesn’t make it any easier on him.

With a slight shake of his head, he gives in and asks her what she means.

“If I stayed, just cause- just- just on a whim, for no reason other than-”

She’s stammering, hardly making sense, and she’s just barely managed to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention from the other passengers scattered around. But even she has to cut herself off before she could say something that could embarrass herself. Although, if she were honest with herself, that ship had sailed.

Toge tilts his head, prompting her to finish her thought, but the longer he sits, and stares, and waits, the more (y/n) seems to withdraw. Her mouth shuts, her brows seem to fall, and he worries that means she’ll be keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself. He frowns at her, his curious look turning pointed to voice his irritation.

(y/n) figures she could either find another way to explain herself, or she could be grateful that the train was pulling into their station now and she could let the conversation die within this car when she hops out.

The screeching halt followed by the squeak and cry of the doors sliding open is rough on the ears but (y/n) couldn’t have been more relieved as she shoots up from the seat and rushes out of them.

The unsaid words aren’t forgotten, they couldn’t be when they’re tethered to the both of them, following them off the train and through the station. It doesn’t matter how her stride races past his, the invisible chain still lingers.

She’s not winded from how quick she’s walking- of course not she’s a trained sorcerer- but somehow she’s not taking in air fast enough and she finds her chest rising and falling with short gasps of breath barely relieving her for a second at a time before she’s struggling to gulp down another.

Toge lets her storm off for a few paces. Whether it’s because he wants her to get it out of her system, or if he needed his own train of thought to catch up with his actions, he couldn’t be sure. But at some point following after her wasn’t enough.

(y/n) chokes mid breath when she’s halted from speed walking any further. A hand latches around her wrist, and she has the audacity to look shocked when she’s whirled around.

“Toge!” She shouts, and they both seem to wince at the realization that it’s the first time she’s called him by his first name.

His brows are drawn together, and his eyes shift between hers and the arm he’s holding a few times before he lets her go. He expected her to huff and take off again. Maybe she’d speed walk all the way back to Jujutsu Tech, pack her bags, and disappear before the sunrise.

Her hand falls limply back to her side, a visible weight resting on her shoulders as she seems to shrink before him. It’s odd to see her this way, but he doesn’t know how to communicate it at the moment.

“You barely know me” Her voice isn’t a whisper, but it’s too quiet for Toge’s liking. He fights the urge to roll his eyes by taking a slow blink.

His hand gestures towards his chest, then taps his head before pointing towards her. Her lips drop open, but Toge’s quick to repeat the action. One sharp gesture towards himself, a jerky point at his skull, and then an even more exaggerated point towards her. His finger stays in her direction until she shuts her mouth again, and he knows she won’t try to argue again.

Did he know everything about her? No. But right now, it’s what he wanted more than anything. And if he couldn’t get her to understand that, then he might go crazy.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She starts, and Toge groans, his head hanging back as he silently curses the clouds. “No,” She steps forward, reaching towards his arm only to hesitate once she’s close to grabbing him. “I meant… I meant I don’t understand why” She clarifies.

There’s nothing but softness behind his eyes as he gazes down at her, but the intensity of the violet still has a hitch forming in her throat. The way he looks at her, as if she hadn’t just tried to storm out on him, positively makes her knees weak in a way that she can no longer ignore.

That feeling she’s been pushing away, the stuttering heartbeat, the rush of adrenaline, she couldn’t ignore it now if she wanted to. Not with it reflecting in Toge’s eyes looking directly back at her.

Her own eyes stretch as round as saucers, realization draining her face of color before coming back in a creeping pink blush.

“And I- I barely know you,” She stammers over her words, but there’s something different in her tone now. As if she’s trying to convince herself, rather than him. Toge nods his head from side to side- he can’t argue, but he doesn’t think she wants him to anyways. “It would just be- ridiculous to stay, out of nowhere, just- just pack up my life and start all over here- I- I’m not even that familiar with Tokyo,”

He chuckles, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watches her grasp at straws. A last ditch effort at explaining away the feeling.

“And I’m a shit teacher… those kids will eat me alive if I can’t get my shit together…” Her voice goes quieter as she trails off, glancing away as her eyes search around the empty street for some sort of solution. “I can’t just uproot my life for you, you know”

And then (y/n’s) head snaps forward again, noticing much too late the implication of her words. Toge’s already raising a brow at her choice of words, a shit eating grin splitting his face.

He points his finger to his chest with an attitude that would make her glare at him if she could will the muscles in her face to do so. But her lips are working on a mind of their own, twitching into a nervous smile. She has to shake her head to combat the stupid dopey smile on her own face. It only seems to further Toge’s amusement.

“Don’t- don’t look at me like that!” She’s shouting again, but it’s useless. She’s already spoken those previously unsaid words, breaking their tether and letting them free for him to have and hold onto.

And hold onto them, he did.

“Salmon~” He sing-songs the riceball ingredient in a knowing, teasing tone. He enjoys it far too much when her nervous smile makes an attempt at frowning, only for the corners of her lips to wobble and tilt upwards at him again- as if smiling at him came naturally to them.

A breathless, humorless laugh escapes her. She pushes her fingers against her temples, as if it could bring some sort of peace to her chaotic mind. She must be going crazy to actually be caving, right?

“I’ve lost my mind” She mumbles out.

Toge rolls his eyes at her dramatics, unable to help it this time. He brings his hand out to brush his fingers under her chin, just enough to pull her attention back towards him- and returns color to her cheeks once more- before he reaches for one of her hands and pulls it towards him. Mindlessly, she takes a half step forward.

It’s quiet for a moment. And it should be uncomfortable, standing in silence in the middle of a sidewalk. The sun had set a while ago, leaving only the street lamps to illuminate the surrounding area. There are a few people still out and about, some rushing home late, others strolling casually, but even as people awkwardly sidestep the two of them, it’s hard to really give it much notice.

Not too unexpected, (y/n) breaks the silence first.

“There must be a rice ball ingredient that would tell me what you’re thinking,” She sighs, her nervous smile growing softer, fonder, more sure of itself.

Toge chuckles, and she can’t help but watch his lips tilt into a smile. The slight dip of skin where his markings are, where a dimple is almost perfectly centered by ink. Her gaze is as soft as her smile- just as fond, just as sure of herself.

“You know… you’re nothing like I thought you’d be when I first met you”

“Hm?” Toge hums, his head tilting just slightly. He already knows that he’s doomed to have a terrible first impression when people meet him.

(y/n) nods, her eyes haven’t torn away from his lips and the markings that frame them yet.

“I thought you were… I dunno, different,” Her own voice lowers to a near hum, something curious lighting up in her eyes. “I don’t know if you remember, but that exchange event, when we were still students, you made me run away from a fight,”

Toge nods, recalling the day just fine. Finally, her eyes flicker back up to meet his.

“I kind of hated you for that you know,”

It’s not funny, but he’s laughing quietly. (y/n) doesn’t understand it. He just shrugs impishly.

“I don’t like being told to walk away from a fight,” She says, a seriousness in her tone that stood out in the otherwise tranquil moment. “Actually, I don’t really like being told what to do at all,” She adds, almost as an afterthought.

Her eyes shift a few times back to his mouth, she does nothing to hide her glances.

Inumaki’s expression is knowing, she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t take direction from others very well, she didn’t have to tell him. It took him, like, three tries just to get her to go out for tea.

“But…” She sighs through a long exhale, trying to release her pent up nerves. “If you told me to stay, I wouldn’t really have another choice…” Her words are slow, careful, just like her eyes as she peeks up at him properly. “Literally” She tacks on at the end with the tiniest of smiles.

Inumaki raises his eyebrows, unable to help the way his lips tilt into a smirk at the idea. She’s not wrong, if he really wanted her to stay, he had just the right cursed technique to make that happen. His eyes shift between hers, if only to appreciate the way her impatience becomes her, no matter how hard she’s trying to mask it.

He opens his mouth, takes a breath, and leans down to her height. (y/n’s) eyes don’t blink once as she’s rendered breathless from anticipation.

Just as it looks like he’s going to say something, she does blink, and she nearly misses it. Toge’s quick, leaning in swiftly to brush his lips over her cheek in a chaste kiss. Her eyes are flying open to stare at him in shock when he pulls away just as fast as he’d leaned in.

She opens her mouth to say something- probably some sort of protest out of shock, but no words come out, and there’s no denying that she’s starting to grin.

Toge’s already smiling ear to ear, seemingly proud of himself. He doesn’t give her any extra time to think of some witty thing to say, either. Just holds his arm open to drape around her shoulders so that when they continued their walk, she was right next to him. Still shell shocked, (y/n) finds herself blindly going along with him. She doesn’t brush off his arm, or speed away, she keeps her pace purposefully in sync with his. And after a few strides, she’s even closer to him than before.

Their walk is quiet for a while, each too preoccupied by their heads from that one little kiss.

(y/n) was practically derailing- had he really reduced her to this simple state from a kiss on the cheek? Was she actually making a mental checklist for moving preparations? Would she always feel a burst of electricity inside of her when he was close?

It would take a business day or two for her to regain her composure and open her eyes to what she really wanted. But Toge was happy to wait, especially when it meant he’d be the one right there when she was ready to admit how she felt.

Speaking off- Toge couldn’t wipe the grin off his face the whole journey back to Jujutsu Tech. It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like an eternity when he had the girl of his dreams under his arm, still blushing from one little kiss.

What an excitement it would be to get to do it again, and have her understand him.

#inumaki toge x reader #inumaki #toge #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #toge x reader #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge imagine #inumaki toge fanfiction #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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p0orbaby · 1 month ago

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Alexia - comes home after training to find R napping on the couch and wakes her up with soft kisses before she gets mushy and just joins her for a cuddle and nap

Alexia comes home from training, sweaty, hair damp, smelling vaguely of grass and ambition, the way she always does. The door creaks—because you’ve been asking her to fix it for weeks now—and she steps inside, shoes hitting the floor in that unmistakable clomp-clomp pattern of someone who is both a professional athlete and annoyingly careless about wooden floors. The ceiling light flickers like something out of a low-budget horror film.

You, on the other hand, are lying on the sofa in a way that can only be described as “dead to the world.” There’s an empty bowl of crisps on the floor—Sour Cream & Onion, the kind you swore you weren’t going to buy again because they’re “basically poison”—and the remote’s half-buried under the cushion. You've somehow managed to twist yourself into a position where you're both starfishing and curling into a ball, legs over the armrest like you fell asleep mid-TikTok scroll. There's a blanket draped over you, but it's doing more to cover the coffee table than your body.

Alexia looks at you and smiles, the kind of smile she saves for moments like this—when she thinks you’re too asleep to notice. She drops her kit bag on the floor, a bit too loudly. You don’t stir.

“Bebé,” she says softly, approaching you with the grace of a ninja, except if that ninja was someone who just did 90 minutes of intense cardio. She crouches beside the sofa, her face hovering millimetres from yours, inspecting you like you’re an artefact in a museum. She’s got this weird habit of doing that when she thinks you're asleep, just staring at you like she’s trying to figure out if you’ve suddenly sprouted a third eye.

You, blissfully unaware, snore. Loudly.

Alexia sighs. “How are you even comfortable like that? You look like a yoga pose gone wrong”

You don’t move. Well, you twitch a bit, probably a dream, but otherwise nothing. She rolls her eyes, leaning in closer, and starts peppering soft kisses along your forehead, one after the other, like she’s trying to wake Sleeping Beauty with sheer persistence.

“Mmm,” you murmur, shifting slightly, as though your body is considering waking up but then quickly decides against it. Alexia huffs a little, more amused than anything, and climbs onto the sofa beside you. Well, as much as she can. There’s not exactly room for two people, but she wedges herself into the narrow gap you’ve left, one leg hanging off the edge in a way that’s not remotely comfortable but feels like home. Her arm snakes around your waist as she buries her face into your neck.

You stir again, groggily. “Wha—” you manage, eyes still half-closed, one leg twitching involuntarily as if your body can’t decide if it’s awake or not.

“Shh,” she whispers into your ear, voice low and soft. “Go back to sleep”

You crack an eye open and glance over your shoulder at her, eyebrow raised. “You smell like a gym sock”

“Romantic,” she deadpans, but there’s a smirk tugging at her lips.

You mumble something unintelligible and sink back into her embrace, already half-asleep again. Alexia shifts, trying to find a comfortable position—impossible, considering you’ve taken up 90% of the sofa. Still, she presses her face against your hair, her breath slow and steady, and before long, she’s drifting off too.

The remote control digs into her thigh, but she’s too tired to care.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso x reader

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sixosix · 1 year ago

Text

aether (one of the) main character(s) in hit game genshin impact hits on you.

thank u sm for beta reading @mitsies i love u and your silly comments and insightful suggestions on googledocs, wc 700, NO ONE IS ACTUALLY DEAD

“Holy—Archons!”

Anyone would be surprised if a body materialized from thin air right in front of you, lifeless like a doll. You stare at the body, thoughts racing as fast as your heartbeat, and all the while, the man with sun threads as hair lay eerily still on the ground, eyes fluttered shut.

The man is terrifyingly beautiful, like a fallen star. A limp and unmoving fallen star, that is. Your jaw extends to the ground, terrified and—mystified? Immediately, your instincts scream at you to perform emergency measures, but—

A pixie comes barreling in from somewhere, tears running down her cheeks as she zeroes in on the presumably dead body.

“Was he your friend?” you ask quietly, mourning on her behalf. Were they siblings? The way she’s slapping his face around seems so.

“He’s not dead!” the little pixie exclaims, sniffling and shaking the apparently not-dead body.

You stare at her, perplexed. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because Paimon had to go through that trial challenge alone!”

“The what?”

Paimon huffs, slamming her tiny fists on the man’s bare waist. It seems to not even have left a mark on his skin. “You wake him up. Paimon’s upset at him.”

It’s hard to say no when tears are rolling down her face. Obediently, you poke around the man’s shut eyes, and it snaps open.

You flinch back. He blinks blearily.

“Are you okay?” You study his face, looking for any signs of a newly born zombie, but his face looks flushed and as healthy as any living human being. His eyes are bright and gold as they stare back at you.

“I’m in heaven,” he says. “Celestia has done it. I’m seeing angels, and I’m in heaven.”

Angels? Celestia?

Paimon tackles his face, shaking his shoulders and crying. “You’re not dead, dummy! How dare you leave Paimon in Dragonspine! All alone, Aether!”

“Oh,” Aether says, sounding almost disappointed. “Then…?”

“You’re not dead,” you agree with Paimon, because evidence lies before you despite the initial fright. However, his comment about angels has you a little flustered. “Um, what happened?”

“Ah,” Aether laughs sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I failed the trial, and it respawned me back here. Which is weird—I haven’t been in Bubu Pharmacy for ages!”

“I’m sorry?”

Aether jumps to his feet, startling you enough to fall on your ass. He grins down at you and offers a hand. “At least I got to meet you,” he says, pulling you up from the grass. You stumble from his strength; he catches you easily, and you bump against his chest. “Or—not meet you yet. What’s your name?”

You can’t believe the previously perished fallen star is now hitting on you. “I’m… Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats, smiling broadly. “I’ll remember that.”

You hope that your face doesn’t betray the warmth you feel fluttering under your skin.

Aether sighs, casting a glance at the ground he was previously lying on. “Sorry you had to see that. That was probably very disturbing and decidedly not flattering for me.”

You can’t help but laugh. Aether beams. “Does that happen often?”

“When I get a little rusty, yeah.” He tilts his head, looking at you up and down, then around your surroundings. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Just recently.” You gesture vaguely to the side, feeling a little shy. “If you don’t see me hanging around, it’s probably because I’m always loitering the docks to watch out for exhausted tourists.”

Aether’s smile turns sly. “Nurse me back to health, would you?”

But then Paimon starts tugging on his ear and away from you, a relief for your racing heart. “Enough flirting! You can come back here after you unlock that precious chest!”

“Ow, ow, okay,” Aether laughs, hesitating, before letting you slip from his hold. He takes a few steps back, his smile as blinding as stars seconds away from exploding. “The docks, right? I’ll see you soon!”

By 'soon,' you hope he doesn't mean he'll attempt to die again immediately, but you figure you'll find out eventually. You glance around to see if anyone is watching, then decide to take a stroll around the docks for reasons no one should know.

i cant believe mitzi's first aether fic is THIS i feel so ashamed lmfao, but TY FOR READING!!!!! <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n

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rubysunnday · 1 year ago

Text

take my hand

summary: as much as y/n appreciates anthony's matchmaking efforts, it's hard to accept them when he's the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

a/n: 4.4k of pure angst/fluff and, yes, smut

Promenading was probably one of the most pointless endeavours the ton insisted on participating in. Miss Y/N Moore loved going on walks around the city. But when she was surrounded by the ton and their watching eyes and gossiping mouths, it was hard to enjoy anything.

"Stop glowering," her mother hissed, elbowing her in the side. "Smile."

Y/N sighed. But she raised her chin and smiled politely as they walked past the Featherington family.

There was only one reason why her mother had forced her out of the house: the Earl of Newburgh.

He'd been courting Y/N since the second week of the season. They'd danced together at almost every ball, gone to museum visits together and he'd had dinner at her house. Twice.

They were practically engaged in the eyes of the ton.

Yet Y/N wasn't happy. She liked the earl, there was nothing wrong with him. He was a lovely man. But there was no spark between them. Their relationship just felt like a good friendship.

She had never confessed it to her mother, however. If she did, Y/N was certain her mother would swoon.

"I do not see the earl anywhere," her mother muttered, rising up on to her tiptoes.

Y/N tugged on her arm and forced her back down. "He might not be here yet, mama."

"He did invite you to promenade with him, yes?"

"Yes -"

"Then why is he not here?"

Y/N kept quiet. Sometimes, when her mother got annoyed, she talked to herself, grumbling about anything and everything. It was easier to let her talk aloud and not acknowledge anything - otherwise they'd end up in a fight and Y/N knew how they always ended.

As her mother kept rattling on, Y/N gazed across the crowd gathered down by the lake. There were awnings pitched up along the edge of the clearing, providing shade to the families sitting under them. It was a beautiful day and the lake had numerous boats upon it, gently gliding over the water.

Y/N's roving gaze moved past and then came back to an awning nearest the lake. It, and the carriage, were both light blue. The carriage door boasted the Bridgerton family crest and Y/N's heart stuttered.

It was as if he knew she was looking.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton looked up. He was sat on a blanket, his youngest sister Hyacinth sat by him, tucked into his side. They were making a daisy chain together. It snaked down Anthony's legs, growing longer as Hyacinth added to it.

It was as if the world stopped for a moment, blurring everything out except Anthony.

"Y/N, darling!"

Y/N jumped slightly. She turned and saw the Earl of Newburgh walking towards her, her mother practically hanging off his arm.

"I found him!"

Y/N tried not to cringe. She kept her composure and smiled at the earl, curtseying as he approached. "My Lord."

"Would you care to promenade with me, Miss Moore?" He asked, smiling at her as he offered her his arm.

"I would love to," she replied, threading her arm through his.

Her mother giggled. Giggled. Y/N tried not to sigh but her composure must've slipped as the Earl patted her hand sympathetically.

They walked down the grass, past the families and toward the water. Y/N could feel guilt eating at her every time she glanced at the earl. She didn't want to inconvience him or hurt his feelings. But she also didn't want to trap him in a marriage that was one sided.

"Miss Moore -"

"My lord -"

They both stopped abruptly, hearing the other speak. The earl laughed, shaking his head.

"Please, go first, Miss Moore."

Y/N sighed. "My lord, I apologise but I... I would rather we remain friends than take this any further. I value you and our friendship," she added quickly, "but I just do not feel any..."

"Spark?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "I know I am running out of time," she said quietly. "And any other woman would accept your suit and gladly become a countess. But I yearn for a love match, as foolish as that might seem. I want what so many of the ton have and I am not quite ready to give up on that idea yet."

"I do not think you should either," the earl replied. He took her hand in his. "We all deserve a chance at true love, Miss Moore. I can only hope you find it."

"As do I, my lord." She curtseyed. "I hope to see you around."

It was as if her mother knew what had just happened. As the earl walked away, Y/N turned, glancing over at her. She could see the fury on her face even from this far away. Y/N swallowed as she began to walk back to her mother, bracing herself for the fallout.

"Miss Moore!"

She stilled. The voice as achingly familiar. She could smell him and it filled her with a weird warmth.

Y/N turned. Anthony Bridgerton was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a dark blue jacket.

"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, curtseying.

Anthony smiled. "I was Anthony last week," he said, moving closer.

"My mother is watching," Y/N replied softly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. "I just ended things with the Earl of Newburgh."

"Why?"

Y/N turned back to face him. She shrugged. "There was no spark."

Anthony nodded once. He glanced over her shoulder. "Well, would you like to come out onto the lake with me?" He asked, extending his hand out. "To escape your mother for a moment?"

Y/N looked at his bare hand. Slowly, she placed her own bare hand in his, letting him guide her hand to the crook of his elbow. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the dark blue wool of his jacket.

They began to walk towards the dock set up on the edge of the lake. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, sparkling off the water for a moment before disappearing again.

Anthony held her hand as she stepped into the boat. He kept her steady as it rocked, not letting go until she did. Y/N sat down on the chair built into the boat. Anthony sat down opposite her, grabbing the oars.

One of the workers untied them from the dock and gave them a gentle push out onto the lake. Anthony began to row, the oars splashing in and out of the water. Y/N sighed, relaxing back against the cushions, grateful to have escaped her mother's wrath for a moment.

Anthony was quiet for a while. He rowed them away from the dock, weaving through the other boats on the lake.

"What made you deny the earl?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Y/N exhaled softly, letting her hand trail through the water. "There was no spark," she replied. "I felt nothing but friendship towards him."

"What is it you look for?"

"A love match," Y/N replied, taking her hand out the water and shaking the droplets off. "Despite how foolish it may seem, I yearn for a love match. One that matches the stories I read when I was younger. Whilst I know it will probably never happen, younger me isn't quite ready to give up on the idea yet."

"I do not think it foolish," Anthony said softly. He slowed the oars, holding them loosely in his hands. "Nor do I think you should give up on it."

Y/N found his gaze. The intensity of it almost took her breath away.

"I must admit, however, that I do not think the earl would have made a good match."

His words snatched her out of her dream. Y/N stared at him, affronted.

"Whatever does that mean?" She asked.

"Well, he lives in Scotland -"

"Do you have some personal vendetta against Scotland?"

"Other than the bagpies and the tartan and the constant rain?"

"Anthony, have you ever been to Scotland in your life?"

"Colin has."

Y/N sighed. "Your brother does not count." She paused. "Is Scotland the only reason?"

"Oh, I have a whole list."

"Oh for goodness sake."

Y/N knew Anthony had a soft spot for her. They'd been friends since she'd come out two years previously. He'd been a desired match despite his whining about not wanting a wife. Her mother had forced them to dance together numerous times and soon a friendship had formed.

Even if that friendship sometimes comprised of a very judgy viscount who seemed to make who Y/N was courting his business.

"Anthony, when will you realise that you cannot control who I court?" Y/N asked softly.

Anthony began rowing them back to the dock. "I do not claim to try to."

"But you do."

"If you want me to stop, you need only ask."

"Anthony, that's not what..." Y/N sighed heavily. "I do not get a lot of choice in this world, please stop trying to control the one thing I do get to choose."

"I was not aware I was," Anthony replied, brow furrowing.

Y/N didn't want to say it. But she knew she had to.

"Well, you are," she replied gently. "I appreciate the concern but... I do not have long left to find my true love. And you, Viscount Bridgerton, are not helping things."

She knew it was a low blow. All Anthony wanted to do was protect her. But he kept scaring off countless suitors - sometimes before Y/N could even speak to them. It was a miracle the earl had managed to bypass Anthony at all.

The boat hit the dock. Y/N looked at Anthony and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat and stood up, pulling his jacket down.

Anthony climbed out the boat and crouched down, tying the rope back to the dock. He said nothing. Y/N hated the silence. She'd upset him, she knew that.

But she could not allow him to keep matchmaking for her when the only one she wanted was him. It hurt to see him try to marry her off to another man. All she wanted to do was be with him.

She'd denied it for months. The feelings that had begun to blossom inside her. They had become uncontrollable now, taking over her entire being whenever she saw him.

She was in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

The man who was against love, against marriage, against happy ever afters. He had made his intentions clear and Y/N knew he was not going to back down on them for her.

Her heart belonged to him and he didn't even know it.

Anthony held out his hand to her. "Miss Moore."

"Lord Bridgerton." She placed her hand in his.

Y/N stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. As she did so, she glanced down at their hands, fingers still holding on to one another.

Neither one of them wanted to let go. Even as the seconds ticked by. Anthony ran his thumb along her knuckles, hovering over the ring she wore on her middle finger.

Then, as if struck by lighting, they pulled apart. Y/N and Anthony both took a step back together, not realising another couple were directly behind them.

There was a yelp of surprise. It was a tangle of limbs and ropes and suddenly, Y/N found herself hitting the water. For a moment, she was blinded, but then she found her way upright and surfaced.

She turned her head, catching the splash as Anthony awkwardly surfaced from the depths of the lake, arms wheeling. The other man they'd knocked into the water was glowering at them but Y/N didn't care.

In fact, she was finding the entire situation highly amusing.

A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock, her mother among them. Anthony was angrily shedding his jacket and cravat, slinging them into the water.

Y/N made the mistake of looking over.

His white shirt was near see through thanks to the water. It clung to his torso, highlighting the muscles and giving her a near clear view of everything.

Her cheeks began to burn and Y/N turned away quickly.

"Anthony, are you okay?"

Y/N looked up at the dock. Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony's sister, was stood at the edge, looking down at them, his brother Benedict next to them.

Benedict looked as amused as Y/N did at the whole situation.

"No," he grunted. "This idiot decided to tie his boat where there was no space!"

"You walked into me, my lord!"

Y/N rolled her eyes as the two man began to bicker. She half swam, half waded away back to the dock. The crowd moved back as she put her hands on the edge and pushed herself up onto it, gratefully accepting Benedict's help as he pulled her back onto dry land.

She knew she looked a mess. Her dress was covered in grime from the lake and there was a stray twig stuck in her hair. Yet she didn't seem to care.

Y/N shook her head, pulling the twig out. She looked up as Benedict straightened, giving her a smile. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet

Y/N watched as Benedict crouched back down and offered a hand to his brother. Anthony slapped it aside, glowering at Benedict as he laughed at his brother's misfortune.

Anthony clambered back up onto the dock and snatched a towel from one of the workers hovering hesitantly nearby. He marched off, giving Y/N a tilt of the head as he passed by.

Y/N watched him leave. A shiver danced through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself. A warm jacket landed around her shoulders.

"So you have a reason to come by," Benedict whispered in her ear as he stepped back.

Y/N smiled up at him, pulling the jacket tight around her.

She knocked on the front door of Bridgerton house, Benedict's freshly laundered jacket in her hand. It wasn't long before the butler opened the door and ushered her inside, taking her calling card.

Y/N waited in the foyer for a moment, admiring the paintings and the walls. Then, the butler appeared again and guided her up the stairs to the drawing room.

"Y/N!"

She'd barely taken one step inside the room before Hyacinth came barreling at her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Hyacinth," Violet admonished, hurrying over. "Please do not ambush Miss Moore."

Hyacinth beamed up at Y/N before skipping away, back to her marbles.

"Miss Moore - Y/N," Violet corrected, seeing Y/N open her mouth to do so, "what do we owe the pleasure?"

Y/N held up the jacket. "I believe this is your son's." She paused. "The artistic one."

Violet chuckled, taking the jacket from Y/N. "Thank you," she replied. "I do apologise for what -"

"Oh, it was not anyone's fault," Y/N said, shrugging. "A funny accident was all it was."

Violet sighed. "I wish Anthony saw it that way. He is still rather angry at being pushed into the lake."

Y/N knew that, whilst he probably was angry at that, it wasn't the only thing. Yet, she did not say so aloud.

"I apologise for the lack of people here," Violet continued. "All of them are out. Bar Anthony, he's in his office."

"Not to worry, I only came to drop the jacket off," Y/N replied. She paused, hesitating to ask her next question.

"What is it, Y/N?" Violet asked, her mother's instinct isntantly reading the heistation on Y/N's face.

"I may have said some things to your son that upset him," she admitted softly. "I should not have done so but..." She sighed. "I cannot explain it myself, to be honest."

Violet nodded, eyes full of understanding. "You do not need to. Your relationship with Anthony is a special one. I do hope that this does not ruin it." Violet smiled. "I always think it best to be honest with someone, Y/N. Even if it's scary. It almost always helps things."

Y/N nodded. "Thank you."

As she turned to go, Violet called her name, halting her.

"His office is behind the stairs," Violet said.

Y/N smiled at the older woman. She turned and made her way down the stairs. As she got to the bottom, she turned to the right instead of heading for the front door.

It was easy to spot Anthony's office. The door was slightly ajar and she could see his jacket, abandoned on a chair by the fireplace.

Y/N knocked gently on the door.

"Just a moment, Hy," Anthony called.

Y/N stepped in, peering round the door, holding on to the edge. "Should I be flattered that you assumed I was Hyacinth?"

Anthony looked up sharply, his quill scratching along the parchment in one, thick, ink heavy line. "Miss Moore."

"I believe it was Y/N the other day," she replied, throwing his own words back at him, hoping to lighten the tension.

It didn't work.

"Why are you here?" Anthony asked, gripping his quill tightly.

"I came to return Benedict's jacket," she replied.

His reaction was obvious, despite how hard he tried to hide it. His shoulders slumped and his demeanour changed.

"Ah," Anthony replied, turning back to his papers. "Did you get lost?"

"I came to see you as well," Y/N replied. She was still hiding behind the door. "But only if you'll hear me out."

"I might."

"And if you stop being so rude."

At that, Anthony looked up again. He stood up, pushing back his chair. "What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet and opening the doors.

"To apologise for what I said," Y/N replied, edging further into the room. "I was stressed amongst many other things and I took it out on you. Of course I value your opinion and I appreciate your assistance."

"You did not seem to the other day."

"Well, I was having conflicting feelings."

Anthony scoffed. Y/N watched him pour out a glass of whiskey and drink it in one.

Y/N sighed softly. She walked further into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. "The truth is, Anthony, that... as much as I appreciate your matchmaking skills and your assistance with this whole thing I..." Y/N trailed off.

She could still change her mind. She could still lie to him, claim innocence.

But she didn't want to.

Now was her chance to tell him. To let it all out. It would hurt. The denial would sting. But she would get over it. And then maybe, she could find another match.

"I cannot have the man I love trying to marry me off to other men when the only one I want is him."

Anthony's glass clinked against the bottle he was holding. He went very still, frozen mid-pour. Y/N let the confession settle, the silence grow. She moved closer to him, the heels of her shoes against the wooden floor the loudest sound she'd ever heard.

"I can’t get you out of my head," she admitted softly. "You haunt my dreams at night and in the day. I find myself searching for you where ever I go, yearning just to hear your voice, to feel your hand in mine… your lips against my skin.

"You torment my very being. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear you there’s a spark inside me that demands to be let out. A spark that doesn’t exist with anyone but you, Anthony."

Anthony set the bottle down and turned to face her. Y/N didn't know how she expected him to react but the tears brimming in his eyes was not high on the list.

"I know that this might not be what you wish to happen," she added quickly, stepping even closer, "and if that is the case, I will walk away right now and forget this ever happened." She paused, breathing deeply. "But I think there is something, deep down inside, that yearns for this too."

That god awful silence fell again. The clock chimed from the mantle place, indicating that it was inching close to six o'clock. Anthony stared at her. Y/N stared at him. She let her fingers grip her skirt tightly.

"I will admit," Anthony said softly, his voice hoarse, "that I have felt something too. For a long time I have denied it." He swallowed. "I loved my father deeply and his loss aches even today. I fear to love anyone else as much or to allow anyone to love me as much because I do not wish to inflict that ache on anyone else.

"But what I have discovered since meeting you, Y/N Moore, is that the ache means that the love was so great, it cannot be put into words. We know what happens in the end, yet we love anyway. It has taken me a long time to accept that. To accept that falling in love will only mean more pain, more heart ache. But for you, I am willing to accept that. For you, I am willing to love again."

Y/N couldn't breathe. At some point during Anthony's confession, her breath had been stolen away by his words.

Here they were, baring their open and broken souls to one another. It shouldn't have felt this good. It shouldn't have brought her the relief it was.

Anthony stepped closer. Y/N followed his gaze, never breaking away. He lowered his lips to hers. It was slow and delicate yet the desire was there, the need for more was there. He pressed hard, pushing her lips apart slightly, wanting even more.

Then, they broke apart. Anthony took a step back. Y/N looked at him, breathing heavily. Anthony looked at her, his dark eyes burning into her soul.

There was a moment of stillness. A moment of calm.

Then Anthony surged forward, as did Y/N. They collide. His hands wrapped around her waist as he captured her lips again. They were desperate to devour one another, to know each others bodies, to feel one another after denying their feelings for so long.

Anthony lifted Y/N up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never once breaking their kiss. He walked back and sat her on the desk, knocking over trinkets and piles of papers. His hands were frantic, desperately undoing the hooks at the back of her dress as she undid his waistcoat.

Desire coursed through them. The need to hold one another overwhelming them both. Y/N's dress fell down from her shoulders and ended up on the floor, forgotten.

As Anthony stepped back, Y/N jumped off the desk and pulled Anthony forward by his cravat. She smiled, licking her swollen lips as she pushed him down until he was kneeling in front of her.

Anthony chuckled, his hands reaching up and pulling down her stockings from around her thighs. Her drawers followed next. Anthony's hands danced over her hips and upper thighs as he guided the material down.

Y/N's hands caressed his face and combed through his hair with her fingers as he undressed her and Anthony tried not to moan in delight. He paused as her hands came around his throat, undoing the cravat and then drifting down to his shirt.

Teasingly, Y/N pulled the edge up, letting her nail lightly drag across his skin. A tremor went through his body, desire flaring between his legs. The shirt landed on the floor next to her dress.

Anthony paused, looking at her. “I will stop if you want me to,” he said softly.

"Please don’t.”

Anthony realised just how much he liked her begging.

Y/N lowered herself to her knees, looking Anthony in the eye. He recognised the look in her eyes and he slowly lowered himself down to the floor, the rug brushing his bare back.

She knelt over him, fingers dancing over his chest. Her hands moved down, brushing between his legs. He nearly came undone there and then. Y/N undid his trousers, sliding the fabric down his legs until they were both exposed.

Y/N lowered herself onto him, a sweetness growing between her legs as she did so. She yearned to reach down and relieve it. Instead, she straightened up, resting on top of Anthony. He tilted his head back, a groan burning in his throat. He let her warm to him, to his touch, and then he arched up slightly, encouraging her movements. Y/N moved with him, their limbs becoming one, entangling with the other.

Anthony reached the horizon of his desire, feeling it's release all over. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, breathing hard. She leant down, kissing his lips, the space behind his ear, his collarbone. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, taking in every mole, every detail.

Anthony took her face in his hands. He gently guided her up, until they were both kneeling again. Then, he pushed her backwards, letting her lower herself onto the floor. Y/N laid on the rug, looking up at Anthony, her eyes caught in his gaze. He knelt over her, his knees either side of her waist, his knee brushing her bare skin.

He smirked as slowly lowered himself downward, caressing every part of her body as he went. His hands ran over her covered breasts, hovering for a moment, before moving down to her stomach. He paused at her thighs and then, when he heard her whimper, went down further, to the sweet spot that yearned to be touched.

Y/N splayed her hands out against the rug as the sweetness between her thighs was eased by hands that knew exactly what to do and a tongue that knew just where to touch.

She didn't even hear the noises she made, so absorbed in the feeling of Anthony's fingers inside her. Her hips bucked up and he pushed them back to the floor, resting his other hand against her abdomen.

Needing something to grasp onto, Y/N reached for his hand. Anthony found it and gripped it tightly, riding with her as each surge of breath came in quick succession.

Y/N arched up, her head tilted back, exposing her throat, as she crested the wave of her release. Anthony finished off as she fell back against the rug, her skin glowing with sweat.

He laid down next to her, his hand coming to lie against her chest. He could feel her heart beating through the corset she still wore.

Neither one spoke - they didn’t need to. Y/N closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling into Anthony’s neck and breathing in deeply. His cologne was stronger there, evidently where he’d rolled it on that morning. Anthony’s thumb rubbed back and forth along her back.

In stark contrast from the hunger and desire that had gripped them moments earlier, they were both settled now. Anthony’s kiss was soft on her cheek, his hands gentle as he caressed her bare skin. Y/N found herself drawing circles on his bare back, following imaginary lines along the divot of his spine.

She sighed softly and relaxed further into his embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to Anthony’s heart beating in time with hers.

She awoke hours later. The candles had burnt down and the sky was dark outside the window. She was still in Anthony’s embrace, his hand lazily flung across her stomach, fingers on her thigh. She turned her head to look at him and he blinked at her sleepily, his hair mussed.

“I suspect I might have to marry you now,” Anthony whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I suspect you might, Lord Bridgerton” Y/N replied, smiling back. She brushed her hand through his hair. “Luckily for you, I’m all yours.”

“Lucky for me indeed,” Anthony murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. Slowly. Deliberately.

For they had all the time in the world now.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagines

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woso-dreamzzz · 21 days ago

Text

Wiped Out III

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first start of the season

Today was meant to be a good day.

Today was meant to be a great day.

It's your first start of the season.

Your parents are here to see you.

Your mother. Your father. Frido's parents too.

Today was meant to be perfect.

"You'll do great," Frido says, a soft kiss landing on the top of your head.

You don't answer her, suddenly feeling shy as you go and warm up.

"Which ones are your parents?" Ingrid asks as her eyes rove over the stands," They are coming today, right? I think Frido said."

"Over there." You point an errant hand over to the friends and family section.

Ingrid narrows her eyes as she takes in all the people sitting there. "I don't see them."

"There! By the aisle."

Ingrid's brow furrows. "That's Frido's parents."

She would recognise them anywhere. She's been in their house enough times to recognise them from a distance.

"No, they're mine. Papa always wears the blue shirt to my matches. He doesn't like jerseys."

"No. That's Frido's father."

"I think I can recognise my own father, Ingrid," You say with an eye roll.

"No. I'm sure-"

"Our father's are twins," Frido says in passing, handing you for bottle to drink from.

"They are?"

"Identical," You put in, passing Frido back her bottle," And our mums."

"What?"

"Our mums are identical twins too."

Ingrid looks between you and your cousin, mouth opening and closing for a moment before she sighs. "Your fathers, a pair of identical twins...married another pair of identical twins. And had you two?"

Frido doesn't answer.

But you do.

"Yeah? What's so confusing about that?"

"So you're sisters then."

"No," Frido snaps quickly, voice hard before she looks away," I mean, no. We're cousins."

"But I mean, genetically, you're siblings. If you're from two sets of identical twins..."

"We're not," Frido snaps again, shaking her head like the whole idea was stupid," We're cousins. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Geez, Frido," You laugh, bumping your shoulder against hers," I'm trying not to be offended here. I'd be a great sister."

Frido's eyes soften like they always do when she looks at you and she fondly tugs on the lock of hair that always escapes your ponytail no matter what either of you do.

Ingrid doesn't push anymore on the topic, especially when it's so clear that Frido's got some strange hang up on it.

The match starts like any other and nothing seems out of the ordinary.

It's as intense as any other match is but just like every other match you've played in, Barcelona are solidly in control.

You frown a little as you and Mapi stand over a free kick, an odd twinge in the back of your leg that you rub. Maybe it's not in your leg actually, maybe it's actually in your chest.

A weird feeling that just won't settle.

You push it away though because this is your first free kick as a Barcelona player despite having been here a season now.

It was a new thing Pere was trying.

He'd been going over old film and came across an old set of videos of when you played for one of the Sweden youth teams. You'd been the dedicated free kick taker ever since you arrived, scoring goal after goal after goal no matter where you were on the pitch.

"Take it," Mapi says from behind her hand, trying to disguise the choice.

The twinge in your hamstring dampens as you push it from your mind, nodding.

Both you and Mapi take steps back.

She runs across you and then you move.

You know something is wrong the moment your foot touches grass.

The ball speeds from your strike, neatly landing in the top corner and passed the keeper's outstretched hand.

The team celebrate but you're on the ground.

Something between a squeak and a yelp make its way out of your mouth as your hamstring flares in pain.

The Johan erupts in noise at your first goal of the season but you can hear nothing over the roar in your ears and the pain in your leg.

Tears sting your eyes as a shadow falls over you.

Your cousin is there like she is every time you're injured like some kind of avenging angel.

But you don't want her right now.

You're in pain. You feel vulnerable. You feel like a little girl needing her boo boo kissed after scraping her skin at the park.

"Mama," You sob," I want Mama."

"It's okay," Frido tries to soothe you, something like confliction in her eyes," Come on. It's okay."

You grasp at her hand, squeezing tightly. "Frido, I want my Mama."

"Shh, shh, it's alright. It's going to be okay."

The medics rush on quickly as well and you try to kick them away with your one good leg.

"Stop...Stop!" You shriek when they touche your injury.

"We need to get her off," One of them says and Frido nods.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" You may be injured, in tears and vulnerable but you'd like to keep some essence of your already shattered dignity.

"Can you stand?" Frido asks, tenderly brushing your cheek with her hand.

"I..." You want to say yes but you know the correct answer. You shake your head.

"We're going to need a stretcher," One of the medics speaks into their radio and within a minute or so, you're being helped into it.

You catch Frido's hand as she walks with you to the touchline.

"You'll tell them to get Mama?"

Frido blinks away some of her own tears. "I'll...I'll tell them to send auntie."

It takes barely an hour for the diagnosis to come back.

A torn hamstring.

A torn hamstring that needs surgery.

Which means months out of football, months of recovery and rehab.

You wonder briefly if you'll get to go to the Euros this summer.

Sweden still haven't qualified yet. You won't be apart of the squad for that campaign but if they do qualify, you wonder if you'll be back and strong enough to join the Euros team.

Mama holds your hand though.

Papa and Uncle and Auntie are still in the stands watching Frido but Mama is with you, holding your hand as you suck on a green whistle to take the edge off.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head as her hands gently card through your hair.

You stopped crying a while ago as you nestle into her, head on her chest like you used to do to her and Frido when you were little.

The sounds of studs on flooring alerts you to your cousin coming and you sit up just as the door swings open.

"Hey," She says, panting.

"Hey," You reply.

She squishes onto the other side of your bed. It's a tight fit but Frido makes it work, taking your other hand. "So...What are we looking at?"

"Torn hamstring," Your Mama replies," She's going to need surgery."

"I hate it when you two talk over me."

"How long are we thinking she'll be out?"

"Six months."

"No!" You huff, drawing the attention of your Mama and Frido. "He said six months are the latest. Three months minimum. I'll be ready in three months."

Frido and your Mama exchange twin looks.

"I'll be ready then! I will!"

Mama continues to stroke through your hair and Frido squeezes your head.

"Recovery takes time," You cousin says," You shouldn't rush things."

"I'm not going to rush things. I'm not an idiot, Frido. But I will be ready in three months and I'll be healthy for the rest of the season. And then we'll compete in the Euros. Like we said we would."

Your Mama sighs. "You're both just as stubborn as each other. You get it from Frido you know."

Frido tenses a barely imperceptible amount next to you.

"How did I get it from Frido?" You laugh," Via telepathy?"

"Yeah," Frido laughs too but it doesn't meet her eyes," Something like that."

#woso x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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cheyisagirlkisser · 17 days ago

Text

"My Sugar Mommy"

MODERN AU ABBY ONESHOT (Sugar Mommy Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader)

Contents: Smut, oral sex, strap-on sex, use of the term "Mommy", kind of angsty, bitter ending, older Abby, feminine college student reader, age gap between reader and Abby(reader is in her twenties, both are consenting adults!), seemingly unrequited feelings, THIS ISN'T PROOFREAD so there are probaby a few grammar mistakes Word Count: 3k

Description: When you're working some minimum wage job in college and money has you stressed, you resort to what feels like a laughable option: finding a sugar mommy. When said sugar mommy is the woman of your dreams, you end up worse off. You fall for Abby Anderson, and that was the one rule you promised you wouldn't break.

How you got into this predicament, you'd never want to say out loud to anyone who knew you. Neither family nor friends, not even the ones who knew the depths of your soul in ways that only she can reach. Those people who you seemed so close to were only brushing against your heart in ways that Abby had enveloped you, the ways she absolutely corrupted your once so sweet personality into her own insatiable sugar baby.

You were a simple girl with simple needs before you met her on that wretched website. You majored in English because you loved to write, and you wished to someday publish and get your name out into people's minds. You came from an average middle-class household, and struggling wasn't impossible, but you never knew the feeling of truly struggling financially until your sophomore year of college.

Your freshman year at your new university was tough, sure. However, you never had to resort to eating Maruchan on the regular. You never had to say no to hang-outs with your friends because you didn't have enough gas in your car. And you certainly never had a thought in that sweet little head of yours that you would ever need to go to a website like Sugarbabies.com to make ends meet. Things just seem to get more difficult as you become more financially independent, though. Even the miserable job at the gas station 10 minutes away from your university that you seemed to be working at nonstop was barely paying your living expenses.

At first, you truly considered Onlyfans. But your friends talked you out of it. That was a silly idea even for you, who was probably as poor as the dirt between the grass. They suggested something that could spare you some dignity: sugarbabying. You initially laughed off the idea, but as you found yourself struggling more and more along with homework toppling over you, you found yourself resorting to the last option. And that is how you met Abby Anderson.

Abby wasn't as old as most sugar parents; she was maybe 45, and she was extremely fit. When she initially sent you a friend request, you spent hours upon hours examining her muscles like it was going to matter whether or not you chose her as your sugar mommy. (You were totally whipped for her already..) The way you obsessed over the older woman was practically a sin, staring at her pictures as if she would jump out of the screen and fuck you silly on your twin-sized bed-

That small obsession was probably the first sign that the whole situation was a bad idea that could end in utter heartbreak for you. But what choice did you have?

Your first meet-up with Abby was extremely awkward for you. She was just as beautiful as she was on her profile, her dirty blonde haired braided, and her body adorned with a pair of baggy cargos and a casual t-shirt. She dressed so basic and you were still salivating. To you, this was no longer an act of money-making, but a pathetically huge crush on an older woman.

Abby was nothing like what her intimidating physique told you about her–she was sweet and caring. She went over every rule with you slowly and in this impossibly gentle voice, and she even complimented the skirt you had on that day. You laughed, pretty giddy and comfortable enough to express yourself around the woman.

The terms of her being your "sugar mommy" were simple: you would be cared for both emotionally and financially. She promised to take you out to the mall and buy you whatever cutesy outfits you liked, made sure to add in how much she already loved the way you dressed. She promised fancy dinners, and you were a girl who was obsessed with crab legs and anything other than shitty college-student food, so you happily agreed to that. However, the aspects of being in a sugar mommy / sugar baby relationship that were more catered to Abby was... that was where things got difficult to easily understand.

Abby was very upfront with you about the sexual aspect of your relationship. She warned you that in her previous relationships, sex was a common activity. She would never require it, but she did expect some level of romantic affections as a sugar mommy in order for the dynamic to work. You weren't an idiot- you understood what sex was, obviously. You also expected whoever you'd be in your arrangement with to expect sex, and you thought about it many times before signing yourself up on that website. It was the emotional aspect that left you feeling grey, and that was something that came after the two of you had already fucked around.

You agreed to a sexual relationship, and Abby didn't immediately request any sexual relations. The first month of your time together, Abby would simply pick you up and treat you to a shopping spree or just take you back to her luxurious home, treating you to wine and appreciating your company. Sometimes when you'd come back to your dorm after a long day with her, you would find random amounts of money slipped into your pocket. You found it endearing.

The sugar baby lifestyle was paradise in the beginning, especially that first easy month. You never had to worry about money, never had to say no to going out with the girls or hell, even worrying about your tuition. Anything you needed, Abby provided. If you were stressed, she'd massage away at your shoulders with her big, strong hands and make you feel at ease.

Really, you could say the first time you had sex with her was where things got so messed up. But that wasn't even true, because you were already so addicted to Abby by just her personality. She was everything anyone could ever want. That being said, the sex definitely lit the fuse that made you so certain you were falling for her.

The day the situation made a turn for chaos started off normal. You spent most of the Saturday morning at your job, and when you got home, you spent most of the evening finishing up homework that needed to be completed. It was when you got a short text from Abby saying that she wanted to pick you up that you felt a shift in your life. Usually, her texts were detailed with what she'd do with you, how fancy she wanted you to dress up, etc. This felt scary. You almost thought that she was planning on breaking off your relationship, which sent an ache through your heart that you should not have felt, but that wasn't the case.

You drove to her house, the road seeming to wind on forever before you finally turned into her drive-way. When she opened the door for you, she didn't look somber though. More serious with a slight twinge of nerves. When you stepped into the house, you were ordered to sit on the couch and listen to what your sugar mommy had to say.

"Look, I'm just going to get straight to the point with you.. I think it's time to take this further. I'd like this relationship to become more physical."

Of course, you agreed. You wanted her for a while, stared at the way her muscles flexed when she'd do certain mundane tasks. The two of you had kissed before, which was usually a short and sweet action, but you were always left wanting more. You didn't even know if you were supposed to be so eager for sex with her. Afterall, you were the one that was supposed to be entertaining her. You knew that you were supposed to enjoy it, obviously. It'd be quite awkward if you didn't. However, you figured that most sugar babies were never supposed to fantasize about their sugar mommies the way you did...

Just the night before, you were in your bed, hand in your panties, two fingers pathetically fucking away at your sopping cunt. Touching yourself was one thing, but dreaming of Abby's fingers taking over? That was a whole new can of worms to open. You'd never even admit to Abby how you gripped at your sheets when you came, biting your bottom lip hard to keep from screaming her name for the whole floor to hear.

When you agreed to Abby's new suggestion, she was pretty much indifferent. That made you feel so exposed: the fact that she could tell that you'd say yes. Maybe she was just some secretly magical sex goddess that could smell the twinge of arousal dripping off of you anytime she'd take you out to spoil you. Maybe she was aware of the feelings of attachment you'd harbored for her that you hadn't even known about that first month of business. Nonetheless, she calmly led you to her bedroom.

You hadn't seen it before, but now that you were standing in the middle of her bedroom, you felt a deep-seated wave of intimacy approach your heart. The lights were dimmed, a few candles lit on her dresser. There wasn't a pile of messy clothes on the floor, or a stray piece of trash on her nightstand like your dorm contained. It was so..mature looking. It suited her well, a clean and cozy bedroom.

You were told to sit down on the bed, so you obliged. She gently parted your legs with her knee to stand inbetween them. You looked up at her with slightly widened eyes, pupils blown. It wasn't surprising that you were already so ready for her. She didn't have to rush to feel between your thighs to know how soaked your pussy already was. That should've been a sign that you were too far gone, but Abby was a bit selfish. She ignored it.

Abby leaned down to press a few kisses onto your reddened cheeks before meeting your lips with a sweet kiss. Kisses with Abby was the best part of being her sugar baby. She kissed you like you were a treasure, like you needed to be protected and deserved every bit of attention you received. Her lips kissed you in ways that were so controlled, in ways you hadn't experienced from your past, when sloppy and fast was the way to go. No, she slid her warm lips against yours and when it was finally time, she'd coax your lips wide to swirl her tongue into your mouth, which had a way of making you moan into hers.

Her mouth finally broke away from yours with a burst of ragged breathing. Her voice was thick with arousal that you hadn't heard before. "Are you going to be good for mommy and let her eat that pretty pussy of yours?"

The thoughts resurfaced, the countless nights spend fantasizing about how her tongue would drill into your hole-

"Yes, mommy..", you answered, arousal seeping into your own voice, a hidden gem of emotional want buried so deep within it that Abby hadn't detected it, or chose not to.

With you naked on the middle of her bed, Abby's head between your legs, her tongue between your wet folds, heaven was no longer debatable. You should've thought of the consequences of letting yourself get so emotionally invested in what she was doing. It was just sex. That was something that was repeated into your mind overtime by friends and by social media. You knew that people could fuck and never love each other, but it was so difficult for you to not fall in love with Abby. The sex only made your conflicted feelings worse. The way your thighs engulfed her head, you could squeeze her face until your heart's content and she'd never complain. She'd only squeeze your soft thighs harder, only intertwine her fingers with yours which made you let out an embarrassingly horny moan. You were too high on Abby's treatment to even consider how badly it was to have what was supposed to be casual sex in a way that you knew wouldn't be casual for you.

Abby's tongue only swirled around your clit at times, and other time's it would ruthlessly devour your pussy just how you needed her to. She was drawing out your pleasure, coaxing every bit of need out of you and attempting to satiate your cravings. She was silent, mouth focused on your cunt, while you were loud and shameless.

"Abby, please- fuck, right there, please.."

"I wanna cum, please just make me cum..stop teasing."

"Ooh, fuck-"

Yeah, you were insatiable. After a torturous amount of time, the blonde finally stopped teasing your clit and let her tongue fuck you at a brutally fast pace. It didn't even take long to send you right over the edge, all over her gorgeous face.

Her tongue didn't cease, only continued with pressured strokes against your clit, milking every drop of pleasure from your body. You were on another planet, practically seeing stars. In that moment, you consciously knew that nobody would have such a hold on you the way Abby did. Nobody could have you wrapped around their finger, make you cum around hers...the way Abby had you.

After you came down from your high, Abby held your bare body in her lap, in her arms, muttering soft words to you. "Yeah, that's my good girl. Shh, just stay here, I'll hold you, okay?", she cooed to you, coaxing you back down to Earth.

You went home that night all giddy and surely in love.

Surely, loving Abby wasn't such a bad thing. She was a huge part of your life, and she was so caring. Who wouldn't fall for her? You recognized your feelings, your attachment, your dependency. Yet you just couldn't find it inside of you to think of it as a dangerous thing yet.

Over the months, Abby had you in countless ways, on countless nights, in countless moods. Sometimes, she was a bit stressed from her job. Those nights, she'd have you mainly pleasure her. You'd be so eager for the times you could lap away at her pussy, because it was a rare occurrence that she'd be vulnerable enough to let you. See, that's the thing about love. You want to give your person everything you have, and more. Other nights, Abby was feeling really sweet with you. She even bought a strap-on to use on you. She'd fuck you with the fake cock so mercilessly and yet so sweetly, just shy of breaking you. You almost broke down once and spilled out how much you loved her on one occasion after she had you in missionary, staring into your eyes at some points and kissing you while you came, whining muffled noises into her mouth so she could practically swallow your pleasure at its peak. Some nights, she was really tired but still wanted to see her baby cum. She'd let you bounce on her strap, whispering how good you were at taking her cock while kneading your tits in her hands like dough.

However, things seemed to change for the worse. You didn't even notice it at first.

It started with turning down your friends' questions to hang-out to go to dinner with Abby and have sex after. Then, you quit your job. At that point, Abby had paid your tuition off for you, and you felt financially well off. That was a truly stupid idea, but you really didn't want a job in the first place. It was too hard to balance a job and homework and Abby. The final major turning point was when you found yourself relying on Abby for more than just expenses. You were relying on her emotionally as if she were your actual partner.

Anytime you'd find yourself crying over stress or had a bad day, it was Abby's door you knocked on. No matter how many times that week you had already came over, you'd still call or knock right back on her door.

At this point, both of you knew how in love you were. How much you needed Abby. But to her, you were the perfect girl, and you had everything she needed in a sugar baby. You weren't spoiled or demanding, at least not first. But as time went on, it was clear the intense love was not leaving. It was only developing into something horrendously serious. And hell, maybe Abby felt the same. Felt the feelings rise up in her soul for you. But she was an older woman, she was more equipped in pushing them back. Anything she felt for you left as soon as it bubbled up.

The late-night calls you initiated, the constant need for reassurance because the current situation was just not cutting it, every part of your love was starting to grate at Abby. You started out as her perfect girl, and now you depended on her in ways that left her unable to simply move on.

Most of Abby's previous sugar babies simply moved on after a few months, when they had the closet of their dreams and had everything they wanted. But when what you wanted was an actual relationship, when Abby so accidentally ruined the sweetness in you, that's when she had to end it all.

You didn't take the "break-up" very well. You couldn't even call it that, because you were denied a true relationship. It was miserable being alone after having someone that you felt like was your everything. You fell back onto your bed each night yearning for something you didn't even get to fully experience, and your grades that were already suffering only got worse. You were still financially stable, at least enough to give you the time to find a new job, but none of that even mattered to you.

You were ruined, bitter and corrupted from someone so sweet. It was all your fault. You knew the rules, and yet nothing stopped you from falling face-first into Abby Anderson. And the worst part is, somehow, this wouldn't be the true end of the hold Abby had on you. Not when Abby had realized how wrong she was about her own feelings, her own naivety of her attachment to you after she ended it.

Maybe you had corrupted Abby back, and the two of you were far from done with each other.

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