#that I didn’t take it the first time but the second time (like 2 weeks later) I said fuck it and just used it while it was still in there

[purplereina11]

You're a highly successful basketball player who has just been transferred to Barcelona's women's team. The number 11 holds deep personal significance for you. Among the spectators is none other than football superstar Alexia Putellas, synonymous with the number 11 in Barça history, watching from the sidelines.

What starts as mutual admiration quickly turns into something more, fuelled by weeks of playful yet intense online flirting. The chemistry between you and Alexia becomes undeniable.

You weren’t sure if Alexia was actually going to follow through. She talked a big game, sure. But this? This was different. This was her stepping past the safety of online flirting. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that she meant it this time. So when training wrapped up and you were cooling down with a few teammates, you weren’t entirely surprised when your phone buzzed.

Alexia: Where are you?

No pleasantries. No hesitation. Straight to the point. You grinned, wiping sweat from your forehead as you typed back.

You: Facility gym. Why? You looking for me?

Read at 2:13 PM. A long pause.

Alexia: Maybe.

Your smirk deepened.

You: You lost or something?

Alexia: No. But you’re about to be.

You frowned at your screen, confused until you heard a voice behind you.

"¿Qué tal, estrella?"

You turned, pulse kicking up a notch. Alexia stood just inside the entrance of the gym, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips.

She was actually here.

And she looked way too confident about it. "Didn’t think you’d actually show up," you said, tossing your towel aside as you took a slow step toward her.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes glinting. "Why? Because you think I only talk and don’t act?"

You shrugged, mirroring her stance. "Haven’t exactly seen you prove me wrong yet."

A flicker of something crossed her face, challenge, maybe. Or irritation. Then, in one smooth movement, she stepped closer, invading your space just enough to make your breath hitch. "You like pushing me, don’t you?" she murmured.

You swallowed, your fingers twitching at your sides. "Maybe."

Alexia hummed, her gaze flickering over your face like she was studying every reaction. Then, her voice dropped lower. "Careful what you wish for."

Déjà vu.

She had texted you those words just hours ago. But hearing them in person? That was different. That was Alexia daring you to finally stop playing games.

You held Alexia’s gaze, your breath steady despite the heat creeping up your spine. She was testing you. Pushing you. Fine. Two could play that game.

You shifted your stance, standing taller, letting a slow smirk curl your lips. “You keep saying that, but I’m still waiting for you to prove it.”

Alexia’s eyes flickered with something dark, determined. “Oh?” she mused, taking another step forward.

You refused to move back. You were locked in now, a silent stand-off, neither willing to be the first to break. A few of your teammates were still lingering nearby, pretending very poorly not to watch. You caught one of them nudging another, both whispering behind their hands. Great. An audience.

Alexia must have noticed too because her smirk widened. “Your team seems interested in this.”

You let out a short laugh. “Can’t blame them. You’ve been running your mouth online for weeks.”

She tilted her head. “And yet, you’re still here. Entertaining it.”

Your jaw clenched for half a second. She had a point. But you weren’t about to give her the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead, you shrugged. “Maybe I just like the attention.”

Alexia’s gaze dropped to your lips, just for a flicker of a second before snapping back up. “That makes two of us.”

Damn.

That shouldn’t have hit you like it did. But it did. You were about to respond when one of your teammates loudly cleared their throat.

“So… should we leave you two alone or—?”

You rolled your eyes, finally stepping back from Alexia with an exasperated sigh. “Mind your business.”

Your teammate just laughed, raising their hands in surrender before walking off. Alexia, though, stayed exactly where she was, watching you with that same knowing look. Eventually, she glanced down at her phone. “I should go.”

You arched a brow. “Already?”

She smirked. “I just needed to see something.”

You folded your arms. “And?”

She leaned in slightly, voice teasing. “I got my answer.” Then, before you could react, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving you standing there heart racing, mind spinning, and absolutely not ready to let her have the last word.

If anyone thought the online back-and-forth between you and Alexia was slowing down, they were sorely mistaken. Because after your little run-in at the training facility, things only escalated. It started with a subtle like on one of your gym photos—one where your arms and shoulders were looking particularly good. No comment, just the quiet acknowledgment that she had seen it.

Then, a few days later, you posted a clip from training—hitting a deep three-pointer with ease. The caption?

Some things just come naturally. ☄️

The fans hyped it up immediately, and you didn’t think much of it—until Alexia replied.

Alexiaputellas: That so?

Short. Simple. Almost dismissive. But you knew what she was doing. So, you baited her right back.

Yourusername: Something you wanna say, 11?

She liked the comment but didn’t reply. Left you hanging. And if there was one thing you were learning about Alexia, it was that she loved to leave you guessing.

Then, the next day, she posted a picture from her own training session sharp focus, locked in. The caption,

Alexia: Nothing worth having comes easy.

No mention of you, no direct callout. But the timing was too perfect to be a coincidence.

The fans noticed.

— She’s talking about YOU, bestie — Oh, she’s so smooth with it — Just date already

Then, to your surprise, Alexia’s teammates got involved.

Irene Paredes commented first.

Irene: Is this flirting? Or are you two actually beefing? I can’t tell.

Then Mapi León.

Mapi: At this point, I think they don’t even know either.

And finally, Patri Guijarro.

Patri: Either kiss or fight because this needs to get a lot more interesting

That was it. The fans were losing their minds.

— EVEN PATRI SEES IT — MAPI BE SO REAL FOR THIS — SOMEONE PLEASE JUST CONFESS ALREADY

And then just as you were about to call it a night Alexia finally responded.

Alexia: Some games take patience.

Your heart kicked. Because now, she wasn’t just playing along. She was doubling down.

You knew Alexia was watching. From the moment your basketball team stepped onto the Barcelona training pitch for a fitness test, you could feel her eyes on you. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. The gym overlooked the field, glass windows giving a perfect view of everything happening outside. And sure enough, through the reflection of your sunglasses, you could see her standing there—arms crossed, watching intently. So, if she wanted to watch? You’d give her something to look at.

The fitness test was brutal. Sprint drills, agility work, endurance runs under the unforgiving Barcelona sun. Sweat dripped down your temple, muscles burning as you pushed through each set. And still, you made sure to keep your movements sharp. Effortless. Letting your strength and control show in every stride, every pivot, every flex of muscle as you drove forward with precision.

And when the heat finally got too much you grabbed the hem of your training top and peeled it off in one smooth motion, letting the sun warm your bare skin. You didn’t need to look up to know Alexia had seen it. The shift in energy was instant. A pause in her usual movement, just for half a second. The way she adjusted her stance, fingers twitching slightly at her sides. You bit back a smirk.

One of your teammates jogged past, nudging you with an amused look. “You do realise she’s staring, right?”

“Oh, I know.”

You could feel it.

Even as you finished the final sprint, chest rising and falling with deep breaths, you knew Alexia’s eyes hadn’t left you. And when you finally allowed yourself a glance toward the gym window, you met her gaze directly. She didn’t look away. Didn’t try to hide it. Instead, she arched a brow—almost like she was challenging you.

Your smirk deepened. This game you were playing? It was far from over. 

The fitness test was over however, but you and a few of your teammates weren’t in a rush to leave. The sun was warm against your skin, and after pushing yourselves through relentless sprints and agility drills, a little downtime on the grass felt well-earned. You stretched out, leaning back on your hands, legs extended in front of you as you let the sun soak into your muscles.  

That was when you noticed them. Barcelona’s women’s team, stepping onto the field for their own training session.  

And leading the way, of course, Alexia.  

You felt her presence before you even looked up properly, but when you did—oh, she was already watching.  

Her gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, taking in every inch of you stretched out in the sun. You were still shirtless from training, skin glistening slightly from exertion, and you didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered just for a second longer than necessary.  

She caught herself quickly, but not quickly enough. Because now, you knew. And she knew you knew. Still, she didn’t back down. Instead, she smirked.  

“You tired already?” she called out, voice loud and teasing enough to grab the attention of both her teammates and yours. “Didn’t think basketball players ran out of energy so fast.”  

Some of her teammates snickered. One of your own muttered beside you, “Oh, she’s feeling herself today.”  

You tilted your head lazily in her direction, feigning boredom even as amusement tugged at your lips. “Didn’t realise footballers were so idle they had the time to watch other athletes train.”

The laughter from both teams was instant.  

Alexia arched a brow, and for the briefest moment, you swore she hesitated like she hadn’t expected you to throw it right back at her.  

Then she kept walking, slowing just slightly as she passed where you were sitting. And in a voice meant only for you, she murmured, “Well, you put on quite the show.”  

Her tone was smooth, confident like she wasn’t affected at all. But her eyes betrayed her.  Because just as she started to jog toward her teammates, her gaze dipped one last time trailing down the length of you, lingering at your abs before snapping back up to meet yours.  

You caught it.  

And judging by the sharp inhale she took before looking away, she knew you did too. You grinned, leaning back on your hands again, completely at ease. “Let’s see if you can do better, then.”  

She glanced over her shoulder, still smirking. “Oh, don’t worry,” she shot back. “I always do.”  

And with that, she was gone joining her team, acting like that whole exchange hadn’t just happened.  

One of your teammates let out a low whistle. “Yeah, you’re so in trouble.”  

Maybe. But judging by the way Alexia had just looked at you?  She was too.

As Barcelona’s women’s team started their drills, your teammates were still chuckling beside you, sending each other knowing looks. One of them nudged your side.  

“You’re playing with fire, you know that?”  

You just smirked, stretching your arms behind your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

Another scoffed. “Right. And Alexia wasn’t just eye-fucking you five minutes ago.”  

You laughed, shaking your head, but you didn’t deny it. Because, yeah, Alexia hadn’t been subtle. And neither had you.  

You stayed on the sidelines, still catching some sun, but now your focus was elsewhere. You weren’t watching the entire Barcelona squad train, you were watching her. And she knew it.  

Because every time she had the ball at her feet, she was sharper. Every pass, every turn, every effortless control of the ball was dialed up, like she wanted to make sure you saw just how good she was.  

Then came the finishing drills.  

Alexia stepped up first. The ball was played into her stride, and without hesitation, she struck it cleanly top corner, unstoppable.  

You let out a small whistle, just loud enough for her to hear. She turned her head slightly, her smirk barely contained.  The next one? She took it first-time, a volley that rocketed into the net.  

Your teammates started laughing beside you. “Oh, she’s showing off now.”  

You just grinned. “Let her.”  

And Alexia just kept going.  

Goal after goal. Every movement precise, controlled, effortless. It wasn’t just about skill—it was about making sure you saw exactly what she could do.  

Then came the final drill, a one-on-one situation with the keeper. Alexia received the ball, dribbled smoothly into the box, then stopped—just for a second—before coolly slotting it past the keeper.  

And when she turned around she didn’t look at her teammates. She looked straight at you.

Like she was daring you to say something. You leaned forward slightly, resting your arms on your knees, letting her have her moment before tilting your head. “Not bad.”  

Her brow arched, her smirk growing. She scoffed, shaking her head as she jogged back to her team.  

One of her teammates, elbowed her and said something that made Alexia roll her eyes. But she was still smirking, still stealing glances your way when she thought you weren’t looking.  

Oh, you were definitely looking. And this game between you? It was far from over. It was heating up.

You could feel her eyes on you.  Even from across the field, where she stood with her teammates, pretending to be focused on training you knew exactly who Alexia was watching.  

So, naturally, you decided to have a little fun with it.  

Ona Batlle had come over to chat, casual and easygoing, but you knew what this really was. An opportunity. A chance to push Alexia just a little further, to see how much she could take before she cracked.  

So, you turned on the charm. “You ever consider switching sports?” you asked, smirking at Ona. “I think you’d do well in basketball.”  

Ona grinned, playing along. “Oh yeah? What makes you say that?”  

You leaned in slightly, just enough to make it look like something. “You’ve got speed. Good reflexes. I think you could handle yourself on the court.”  

From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle shift in Alexia’s stance. The way her jaw clenched, the way she stood a little straighter, like she was resisting the urge to storm over.  

Perfect.  

Ona tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. But would you actually teach me? Or just use it as an excuse to show off?”  

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’d definitely show off. But I’d make sure you learned something in the process.”  

Ona laughed, nudging your arm playfully. “Sounds like a fair deal.”  

You made a show of grinning back, knowing exactly what you were doing. Alexia knew it too.  

When you flicked your gaze in her direction, you didn’t even try to hide your amusement. And for the first time since this whole thing started, Alexia didn’t smirk back.  

She just stared and when training resumed, she didn’t hold back. Every touch, every pass, every shot—there was extra venom behind it, extra bite. She was playing with a sharpness, a level of intensity that screamed one thing.  

You’d gotten to her. And that was exactly what you wanted.

You weren’t staying.  

You had done what you came to do, run your fitness tests, pushing Alexia’s buttons, and maybe drive her just a little crazy in the process. Was an unexpected bonus.

You were leaving. Just like she had at your practice.  Fair was fair.   You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you walked around the edge to leave, your teammates still lounging behind you, soaking in the sun.  

But you barely made it a few steps off the pitch before you heard hurried footsteps behind you.  

You knew who it was before even turning around.  

“Leaving already?”  

Alexia’s voice was smooth, but there was something beneath it. Something tight. You exhaled a quiet laugh, not slowing down. “Didn’t realise I had to check out with you first.”  

Alexia scoffed, catching up to walk beside you, her pace casual but her presence anything but. “You don’t. Just surprised, that’s all.”  

You hummed, letting the silence stretch, watching as she very obviously tried to keep her eyes on your face. She failed. Her gaze dipped—once, twice—dragging down over your torso, where your shirt was still slung over your shoulder. The heat of the sun had been the perfect excuse to take it off earlier, and you hadn’t bothered putting it back on.  

Now, it was paying off. Because Alexia wasn’t subtle. Her eyes lingered just a second too long, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she forced her gaze back up.  

You smirked. “Something catch your eye?”  

Her jaw tightened. “You wish.”  

“Oh, I know.”  

You stopped walking, turning fully to face her now, and she mirrored the movement without hesitation. For a second, neither of you spoke. But the tension. It was palpable.  

A slow burn in the space between you, stretching, thickening. Her eyes searched yours, like she was looking for a sign, a challenge, an opening, something.  

And you weren’t about to back down.  

So, you tilted your head, letting your smirk deepen. “I didn’t think you followed people when they were the ones leaving early.”  

Alexia exhaled sharply, her lips pressing together. “I wasn’t following you.”  

You chuckled. “No?”  

“No.” She squared her shoulders. “I had things to do.”  

You stepped a little closer—just enough that you swore you saw her breath hitch. “Right. And those things just happened to be in the same direction as me?”  

She didn’t answer right away. And in that silence, you swore you felt it shift. The teasing, the games—it was still there, but underneath it, something heavier. Something you weren’t sure either of you was ready to name.  

Alexia’s gaze flickered, just for a second, to your lips before she caught herself.  Then, as quickly as she had followed you she was stepping back.  

Regaining her composure. “You should put a shirt on,” she muttered.  

You grinned, reaching for your bag. “Why? Distracting?”  

She didn’t dignify that with a response. She just turned on her heel, walking away without another word. But she didn’t have to say anything. Because you knew. And next time you weren’t going to let her walk away so easily.

You weren’t one to back down from a challenge—especially not one unspoken.  

So, after training, standing in front of the mirror in the locker room, still shirtless, sweat clinging to your skin, you did what had to be done.  

You snapped the picture.  

The lighting was good, your abs looked sharp, and the smirk you wore? Just cocky enough to be annoying.  

Perfect.  

You opened Instagram, fingers hovering over the caption for only a second before typing exactly what you knew would send the world—and Alexia—into a frenzy.  

"Should I do as I’m told and put a shirt on? 🤔"

You hit post.  

And within minutes, the internet erupted.  

@barcaworldwide: WE NEED TO KNOW WHO TOLD YOU THIS. 👀  

@baskethoopsdaily: No. Don’t do it. For the culture.  

@alexiapfans: Someone check on Alexia! Is she ok? I AM NOT OKAY.  

@yourteammatename: I vote no. But if you get fined for this, I was never here.  

@AlbaPutellas: I feel like you’re enjoying this way too much.  

@alexiaputellas: You already know the answer.  

That last comment. Yeah. That’s the one that really got everyone talking.  

Because unlike the others—unlike all the laughing emojis and thirsty replies and teammates stirring the pot—Alexia’s response was… different.  

She wasn’t playing along, not exactly. She was reminding you that she had told you to put a shirt on. That she’d been there, watching, reacting.  

And that was enough to send her fans into a meltdown.  

@alexiaupdates: WE NEED AN INTERPRETATION IMMEDIATELY.  

@spainwntdaily: “You already know the answer” ??????? EXCUSE ME.  

@barcelona_fc_fan: This is the most obvious “I was watching you and you know it” message I’ve ever seen.  

@yournamefanclub: IS THIS OUR ROMANTIC ERA.  

You leaned back in your bath, staring at the screen, the likes skyrocketing, the comments piling up by the second.  

And then, before you could even think of a response, your phone buzzed with a private message.  

Alexia should have let it go.  

She should have ignored your post, pretended it didn’t get to her, pretended she didn’t see it.  

But she didn’t.  

She liked it. She commented on it. And then, hours later, when you were relaxing in the bath, she went a step further.  

Alexia: You’re a menace.

You grinned, typing back.  

You: And yet, you keep engaging.

She left you on read.  But she liked the text. And that said everything.

Your phone buzzed yet again.  

Alexia: You still haven’t answered the question.

You smirked

You: Which one?

Her reply came almost immediately.  

Alexia: Should you do as you’re told?

You chuckled under your breath, shaking your head. She was playing now, pushing this back into your hands, daring you to make a move.  

So you did.  

You took your time with your response, letting your fingers hover over the keyboard before typing.  

You: You tell me, Capitana. You seem to like giving orders.

Read at 9:46 PM.  

No reply.  

For a while, you let it sit, let her stew in it, let her decide whether she wanted to keep going or tap out. And then, when you were sure she couldn’t handle the heat. Your phone buzzed.

Alexia: I like being in control.

Your breath caught just slightly. Oh, she was good. But so were you.  

You could have left it there, let the tension build, let it simmer in the background. But where was the fun in that?  

Instead, you opened Instagram again, snapped another picture—this time, just a teasing hint of your legs and the glass of wine in your hand in the bath—and posted it to your story with a caption that would definitely get a reaction.  

".. whilst waiting on my orders. 👀"

And you knew she saw it.  Because not even five seconds later, you got another message.  

Alexia: Eres insoportable. (You’re unbearable.)

You: And yet, you’re still here.

She left you on read again. But something told you this wasn’t over. Not even close.

[nanamincreampie]

Can I request that Sukunas baby girl takes her first steps and Sukuna misses it while he’s at work?

Context: So y/n and babygirl are at home while Ryomen’s at work. Y/n has been helping her walk for the first time and cheers for her but baby girl notices that her dad isn’t home. Usually when she does something cheerworthy, both her parents celebrate her so she gets upset and starts crying and won’t stop. 😭🩷. The thing that catches y/n’s attention the most is the baby’s stuttering while she’s crying. So soon as y/n rushes to Sukuna’s office, the floor is literally buzzing and cooing with empathy because the baby (who’s a perfect precious mixture of y/n and Ryomen) is fumbling and squealing over words. So when they realize she’s trying to say her first word, like 5 to 10 people rush to go get Sukuna at the same time and as soon as he comes out his baby girl says “dada!” And reaches for him with a gummy smile and it makes his heart swell tenfold and for the very first time everyone sees Sukuna’s BEAMING smile. (Albeit he’s smiling at y/n and his daughter proud beyond words). In the end it turns out the baby just missed her father so much she said her first word when attempting to call for him! 🥹🌷🥹 but like yeah maybe y/n could put her down and she toddles and waddles to Ryomen?

HEY I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND BUT I MADE THIS A PART 3 FOR THE CEO'S HIDDEN FLOWER (part 2)

Ryomen Sukuna x Black reader

The house was filled with warmth, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow through the living room windows. Y/N sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, her hands outstretched as she watched their daughter stand, her chubby little legs wobbly, her tiny fingers curled into fists for balance.

“You can do it, baby,” Y/N encouraged, her voice dripping with excitement. “Come on, just a few steps!”

D/n, their precious ten month old who had been pulling herself up on furniture for weeks, let out a tiny squeal before taking a step.

Then another.

And then

A third.

“Oh my God, you did it!” Y/N gasped, clapping her hands. “You’re walking, baby girl!”

She reached forward, scooping D/n up into her arms, peppering her soft cheeks with kisses. The little girl giggled, basking in her mother’s joy.

But just as quickly, her tiny brows furrowed.

Her big, round eyes scanned the room, searching, expecting only to not find the one person who was always there when something exciting happened.

Her dada.

D/n’s lips wobbled.

A small, uncertain whimper escaped her.

Y/N noticed immediately. “What’s wrong, lovebug?”

Then, the floodgates opened.

D/n wailed.

Not her usual sleepy fussing, not her “I want a snack” whines, this was full-blown heartbreak.

Fat tears rolled down her round cheeks as she cried, her little fists curling into Y/N’s shirt. Her breath hitched over and over as she babbled between hiccups, fumbling over sounds that didn’t quite form words yet.

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the sight.

“Oh, baby,” she murmured, rubbing circles on D/n’s back. “You miss Dada, don’t you?”

The answer came in another hiccuping sob.

Y/N didn’t waste a second.

She grabbed the baby bag, secured D/n in her arms, and headed straight for Sukuna’s office.

The second she stepped through the glass doors of Sukuna’s office building, every employee noticed.

It wasn’t just because the CEO’s beloved wife had returned.

It was because she was carrying a tear-streaked D/n, who was hiccuping between tiny, stuttering cries.

“Oh my God, what’s wrong with her?” someone whispered.

“She looks like she’s been crying for a while…”

Y/N gave them a soft smile. “She’s okay. She just really, really wanted to see her dad.”

Several employees melted on the spot.

“She’s so cute, I might pass out.”

“I don’t blame her. I’d cry too if I missed my dad and he was Sukuna.”

“I’ll go get him!”

At least ten people bolted at the same time.

Sukuna was halfway through reviewing a contract when the door to his office swung open.

“Sir, your wife and daughter are here.”

His head snapped up instantly.

He didn’t even bother responding.

The chair scraped back violently as Sukuna shot up.

By the time Sukuna stepped into the main floor, the energy had completely shifted.

Y/N stood there, rocking D/n, who was still hiccuping and whimpering, but the moment her teary eyes landed on Sukuna, she lit up.

Her breath caught.

Her chubby little fingers reached forward.

“D-D… D-Da—”

Sukuna froze.

“D-Da… Da…”

The employees held their breath.

And then—

“DADA!”

A gummy, tearful smile stretched across D/n's chubby little face as she reached for him.

The room exploded in a wave of emotional gasps.

“She said it! She said it!”

“She said Dada!”

But nobody, nobody, was more affected than Sukuna himself.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

His crimson eyes flickered between Y/N, who was watching with teary adoration, and their daughter, who was desperate to be in his arms.

Then, he broke.

Sukuna grinned.

Not a smirk.

Not his usual cruel, sharp grin.

A real, genuine, beaming smile, one that reached his eyes and overflowed with pride and love.

The office erupted.

“Oh my God, he’s smiling!”

“Somebody get a picture, this is the moment of the century!”

“I’m gonna cry, this is so wholesome—”

Sukuna ignored them all.

In two strides, he reached for D/n, pulling her into his arms.

She latched onto him immediately, little fingers grabbing onto his shirt as she buried her face against his neck.

Sukuna kissed the top of her head. “Missed me that much, huh, baby?”

D/n let out a tiny, content sigh.

The office employees were losing their minds.

And then—

Y/N gently set D/n down on her feet.

“Go on, lovebug,” she encouraged, smiling warmly. “Walk to Dada.”

Every single person stopped breathing.

Sukuna’s eyes widened slightly as D/n wobbled, toddling her way toward him with shaky steps.

One step.

Another.

And then she fell right into his arms.

Sukuna caught her effortlessly.

Pride swelled in his chest.

His baby girl had taken her first steps, said her first word, all because she missed him.

And for the first time in his entire career, Ryomen Sukuna did not care about his employees not doing their work as they should.

Because nothing, not business, not power, not even his own reputation, mattered more than this.

More than them.

Y/N kissed his cheek, laughing softly. “Guess you’re her favorite, huh?”

Sukuna grinned, holding their daughter close.

“She’s got good taste.”

taglist: @slushycoookie @poopooindamouf @xxdiaqiaoxx

[cumikering]

University Gaz x reader 2

2.7k | fluff You remembered why Kyle seemed familiar (part 1)

It was silly how you couldn’t stop thinking of the kind stranger who held you in the dark.

Kyle had taken your number at your door that night, but the days of silence chipped away at your blooming hopes. You didn’t even know him - you’d only met him once! While he seemed awfully familiar, you knew nothing more than his first name, major and that your classmate knew him.

Maybe he was just being nice. He was nice.

But that Wednesday afternoon, you turned to the voice calling out for you only to meet Kyle’s gorgeous smile.

Your stomach flipped, and you couldn’t help returning it as he jogged towards you out of the pitch in his rugby kit. While you weren’t surprised to see him on campus, you never realised he played even when you passed the pitch almost every day.

“Heading home?” he asked, drops of sweat running down the side of his face.

He stood a few feet away from you, and the distance was jarring because there had been a lot less last time. You took a beat, noting how his shirt emphasised his shoulders and chest while his shorts, the university’s logo embroidered in the corner, showcased his muscular thighs.

You realised then why he’d looked so familiar. It was embarrassing that who he was never occurred to you sooner.

“No, I’m tutoring Saybastian again.” You shifted your weight. “I’m grabbing a snack with a friend before I go over.”

“Oh, I was hoping I could walk you home after practice.” He pointed behind his shoulder with his thumb.

You glanced past him, at his equally-drenched mates on the benches who couldn’t hide their amusement as they observed the exchange.

“Well, maybe next time then,” he reassured with a smile.

Your heart raced. Did you miss him that much?

“Break’s over, Gaz! Let’s go!” The guy with a mohawk bellowed in a Scottish accent from the edge of the pitch, passing a ball back and forth between his hands.

He turned and called back, “Just a second!”

“Is this how you knew Saybastian? I know he plays too.”

Kyle laughed, running his fingers through his short hair. “Yeah, he’s in my team. He’s been skipping practice and he’s terrified of getting kicked out.”

“That explains why he looked like he was going to piss himself last week.”

“Hope he hasn’t been giving you more trouble.”

You shook your head. “He’s paid upfront.”

“Smart lad.” He nodded approvingly with an amused smile. “Are you into rugby?”

“I know next to nothing about it.” You chuckled sheepishly. “I’ve never even watched any of our matches.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he teased, before his smile faded at the realisation. “Come on, it’s our uni’s pride and joy! Tell me you’re taking the piss.”

You laughed. “I’m serious. If I had, I’d have recognised you.”

He hummed, tilting his head. “How so?”

You averted your gaze as your lips pressed into a thin line, cheeks heating up. You didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Over your time in university, you’d heard of “rugby Kyle” in passing, praised for his skills on the pitch by the lads, his looks by the ladies, and academic achievements by the professors. You might have even seen an article or two of him on the bulletin board. But had you been to a match, of course you’d have remembered someone as beautiful as he was.

“Oi, Garrick!” the Scot called again.

“Coming!” he replied, not taking his eyes off yours.

You averted your gaze, a small smile on your lips. “You should go.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to take you out. I know classes are getting busy, but are you free this weekend?”

You nodded.

“I can’t wait.” He reached out for your hand, but immediately caught himself and balled his fist before he made contact. “Sorry,” he said under his breath with a sheepish smile. “I’ll text you,” he stepped backwards.

You waved goodbye and with that, he sprinted back towards the pitch.

You walked away with flutters in your stomach, rubbing the back of your hand he almost touched. How could you stop thinking about him now?

It took too many days after the lift incident before Kyle saw you again. He didn’t know why he was so surprised to see you when you both went to the same university, but he would have been more presentable had he known your schedule beforehand.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to. You didn’t have to know he’d been buzzing to text you ever since that night. Sure, he’d let you know that he’d arrived home safely after walking you. You thanked him again for the evening, but that was it.

He could have, and should have, texted you. But how could he be sure he didn’t come off too strong? But when the thoughts of how sweet and adorable you were plagued his, he grew impatient. He promised to himself he’d text you with good news.

He wanted to be helpful, see? He’d been asking his mates for a spare bike you could use, and while no one had one, they knew something was up. Gaz fell off one as a teen and never wanted to get on one again.

Regardless, he’d made up his mind to text you anyway that night after practice. But what sort of coincidence was it that you passed the rugby pitch that fine afternoon?

Despite being drenched in sweat and caked with mud, he had to call your name out and jog to you as you smiled at him. The team’s teasing looks didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach, but he probably deserved the teasing for waiting so many days to text.

With how happy your smile made him, he shouldn’t have waited that long. While the accidental meeting quenched his thirst, he meant it - he couldn't wait to see you again.

That evening after practice, Kyle did some revising before deciding he was in no mood to (or more precisely he had no capacity to) with something else occupying his mind. You were right there in his building! He paced his kitchen before he finally braved himself to leave his flat.

What could he have said to Saybastian? He was missing an ingredient for dinner? It was a terrible excuse – his teammate was notorious for his takeout habit. Or perhaps, he wanted to make sure he was learning diligently, even when it was none of his business.

Kyle felt silly going through his catalogue of excuses in front of his mate’s door, but if he’d stayed in his flat, he’d have convinced himself to never leave. Like then, when he finally decided to abort mission, the door cracked open behind him, making him whip to it.

You blinked up at him as you stepped out the door. “Oh, Kyle, hi.”

“Gaz?” Saybastian perked up behind you. “Is something the matter?”

“No- I-” He laughed to himself.

“I've paid her in advance!”

“Good.” He nodded as he composed himself. “Good to know everything’s in order. You have a nice evening now, mate.”

“O-okay. I’ll see you at practice though, right?” he asked, worry in his voice.

“You know the rule.”

“Yes, I won’t be late. I promise!”

He nodded and closed the door before turning to you. “Well, I wanted to say hi.”

You laughed. “Hi.”

“You hungry?”

“Will be in a bit, was thinking of grabbing something on my way home.”

“Want to cook with me?”

Kyle had missed that smile. He helped you with your bag before leading you to the kitchen.

“You already started?” you asked, taking in the prepped ingredients laid out on the counter.

He chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, wanted to try my luck, see if you were still around.”

You rolled your hoodie sleeves up your arms and washed your hands. “Okay, how can I help?”

“While I start the pasta, you can help with the garlic bread, if you don’t mind.”

Kyle took out more ingredients from the fridge while you prepared the baguette. He sautéed the colourful veggies as you buttered the bread. Gentle sizzling filled the quiet room, as did the delicious aroma.

“How long have you been playing?” you asked.

“Since I was in my nappies. The whole family loves rugby.”

“Saybastian mentioned you’re getting scouted.”

He laughed, glancing at you mid-stir. “Talking about me now, huh?”

“He says you’re a legend, a top-scorer in your first year and was made captain for the second. He’s a huge fan.”

“I’m flattered, thank you.” He smiled. “Yeah, I do want to get into the elite league, but we all know how cut-throat the competition is, so who knows.”

“You always wanted to go pro?” You sprinkled salt over the neatly lined garlic bread in the baking tray.

“I don’t want to jinx it, but I’m hoping for the best. Whatever happens, at least I know I’d still enjoy an engineering job.” He paused. “But in another life, I’d probably be a soldier, maybe a police officer.”

“I think you’d look nice in a uniform.”

He whipped to you, but you weren’t quick enough to hide that smile as you turned to the oven with the tray. His heart skipped a beat. Were you flirting with him?

“I wanted to ask,” he started after he’d composed himself, dropping the pasta into the pot of boiling water. “We have a match next Wednesday. I can get you a spare ticket, if you’re interested.”

You slid the tray into the oven and turned back to him still with that teasing smile. “If that’s not too much of a hassle. Don’t want to get in trouble for never watching any of our matches.”

He laughed. He didn’t mind doing the arresting at all.

Kyle didn’t think he was a particularly impressive cook, but the joy on your pretty face during dinner soothed him. You chatted as you ate before helping him clean up. Not long after, you thanked him once more and excused yourself home.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said, stuffing his phone and wallet into the pockets of his sweats.

You blinked. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Kyle, I’m not letting you do that. It’s 30 minutes each way and it’s getting late.”

“Exactly.”

“You’ve been so nice.” You placed your hand on his. “Please, I’ll be fine.”

He searched your eyes.

“You must be tired from practice as well.”

A small smile teased his lips. “Promise you’ll let me next time?”

“Yes, if it’s not so late.”

“Okay,” he said, eyes sliding your hand that just touched his. His heart shouldn’t be fluttering so hard, should it? “Would you let me know when you’re home?”

You nodded, and the eye contact remained for another moment before you stepped in with a small smile. He gave you a squeeze and walked you to the lifts, watching as you waved before the steel doors shut.

He smiled to himself as he headed back to his. He’d wanted to kiss your cheek again, but didn’t want to push his luck. He’d see you again that weekend for a date, he reminded himself, but that only made him squeal internally as he locked his door.

Could Kyle Garrick be any more charming?

That Saturday afternoon, he showed up at your door with that gorgeous smile. You look lovely, he said, giving you a once over that made your heart flutter.

He helped you lock up and offered his hand which you took gladly. His grip was firm and warm as he led you to a restaurant near the park.

He didn’t have to know how many glances you tried to steal (even though you had an inkling he knew anyway). He was effortless in his plain white t-shirt topped with a light jacket paired with jeans and boots. This time, he donned a dark grey beanie instead of a cap - making him look extra cosy -  while his stylish black watch tied his look together. You were glad you put in the effort that day too so you weren’t underdressed.

After lunch, he took you on a walk at the park accompanied by ice cream before you headed to watch a movie you’d been looking forward to. There, he too held your hand and eventually wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you leaned against him.

This wasn’t the first time you were in such proximity to each other. Still, it made your heart race, and yet he made you feel safe - even from the get go in that lift. You turned to look up at him, only to find a small smile on his lips, illuminated by the light from the screen dancing across his pretty face.

You didn’t look away fast enough when he turned to you. He gave your hand a squeeze.

At the end of the night as Kyle walked you home, he picked up a small packet of gummy bears you shared the rest of the way. Were you only imagining that his steps slowed as your building neared?

Maybe you could ask if he wanted to get another pack of gummies... But no, you shouldn’t hold him any longer. It was late and he’d been so kind to get you home. You shouldn’t be selfish, but your fingers curled tighter around his toned forearm.

“I’ll hand you the ticket on Tuesday after class?” He turned to you at your door. “I’ll have an hour before my next one, but maybe we can grab some lunch too if you have the time?”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

His gaze slid to your lips for a split second before going back to your eyes. Your stomach flipped as he flashed you a smile, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

It bloomed a bashful smile that you wore to bed.

You started texting throughout the day, checking in here and there, updating you about his day.

Your reminder to rehydrate, Kyle texted Tuesday morning in class, along with a selfie of him grinning with his eyes shut next to his oversized water bottle.

You let out a small laugh. He was so adorable, but you didn’t want to be caught staring at him too long. You took a few sips and took a selfie as you rested your chin on your bottle. Roger, copy and check, sir

Before the class was over, another text came in.

I’m sorry, love, I’m held up in class :( I’m afraid I won’t get a chance to see you before the match tomorrow. Can I ask one of my mates to hand the ticket over?

Sure, but I don’t mind waiting a bit

I don’t know how long this will be :/ just told Johnny where to meet you

After class, you waited outside your hall. Soon enough, you turned towards the gruff Scottish voice calling for you. You remembered him: the lad with the mohawk.

“Never got to introduce myself the other day. Am Johnny,” he said with a friendly smile. “From Gaz.” He handed you a box of granola bars with a ticket on top of it.

You retuned his smile. “Thanks so much for taking the time, Johnny.”

“Did you know that’s his favourite flavour? He never shares with anyone - not even with me, his vice-captain!” He pointed at himself. “Can you believe it? He must really like you.”

You averted your gaze as you laughed. “We can share if you want,” you said, tearing off the box.

“Really?” His bright blue eyes lit up.

You handed him two bars. “Thanks again, Johnny.”

“Thank you.” He clutched them against his chest. “I’ll personally see to it you get the best seat. See tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded. “Go well.”

With that, he walked off with a grin as he unwrapped a bar. When you turned away, you gripped the strap of your bag as you lost the battle with the smile from the little comment.

Masterlist Guitarist Gaz

@tiredmetalenthusiast @trashitytrashitytrash @ohlawdthebirds @winnieb00 @ltbarnes

@eve-lie @mangoguy @rowanyaboats @guineapigzwei @ghostalina

[universefcb]

↬❥ Unknown part.2

Pau Cubarsí x Reader!fem

Synopsis: After breaking up with Cubarsí, you try to live your life, but you end up meeting him.

a/n: I don't know how to make continuations of stories! Forgive me.

FIRST PART

warnings: no

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The next few days were a silent hell. You tried to move on, tried to pretend it didn’t hurt, but the truth was that every second without a message from him, without an apology, made your chest tighten more. You hated the way your eyes searched for him everywhere. Hated the way even though it was hurt, your heart still waited.

But Pau never came.

And when the week passed and the emptiness inside you didn't diminish, you decided that you couldn't continue living like this. If he didn't want to fight for you, then you needed to learn to let it go.

That's why you accepted your friends' invitation that night. A party, a bar, anything that would take your mind off him for at least a few hours. You put on your best clothes, looked in the mirror and told yourself that you didn't care anymore.

But then, Pau appeared.

You were leaning against the bar counter, laughing at something that didn't even make much sense, when you felt a familiar shiver run down the back of your neck. It was like your body knew before you did. And when you turned around, you found those brown eyes fixed on you.

He was there.

Pau didn't look well. His hair was messy, the circles under his eyes betrayed a bad night's sleep, and the expression on his face... was different. There was no longer indifference. There was something intense, almost desperate, as if he was there because he couldn't help himself any longer.

Your heart pounded, but you weren't going to give in that easily.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice was firm, but inside you were shaking.

Pau swallowed hard.

"We can talk?"

You laughed humorlessly.

"Now do you want to talk?"

He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before taking a step forward.

"I was an idiot." The words came out quickly, as if he needed to get them out of him. "I thought that by walking away, I would keep things from getting worse. That I would be protecting myself. But the truth is, I was only sabotaging myself. And in the end, all I accomplished was losing you."

Your chest tightened, but you maintained your posture.

"And why now? What has changed?"

Pau ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated with himself. "Because I realized the worst thing that could happen wasn't getting too involved. It was not having you around. I missed you every day, and every night I went without texting you, thinking I was doing the right thing, I only realized I was sinking deeper."

You wanted to believe him. But it still hurt. "What if I had never come here today? Would you have continued your silence?"

He shook his head.

"No. I was going to look for you anyway. But seeing you here… knowing that you could be moving on without me… made me realize that I couldn't wait any longer."

He took another step forward, and this time you didn't back down. "I know I messed up. I know I was cold, that I hurt you. But if there's still a way to fix this, I'll do whatever it takes. Because you matter to me. Because I love you."

His heart stopped for a second.

Pau had never said that before.

"You…" His voice cracked. "Do you love me?"

He nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. "Yes. And I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it."

For a moment, all the hurt felt too heavy to ignore. But then you looked at him—really. You saw the exhaustion, the vulnerability, the way he seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for your answer. And you knew he meant it.

And most of all, I knew her heart was still his.

You sighed, feeling the barriers you had built begin to crumble.

"That doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything overnight."

Pau nodded.

"I know. But I can spend as much time as I need proving it to you."

A silence hung between you. Then, hesitantly, you reached out and touched his face, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin. And when his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug, you knew you were where you always wanted to be.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @p4uul0vr @nngkay @meganesanchez @bymerinott @htpssgavi @luvvpedri

[pebblezone]

Idk how welcome home has overrun literally all of my social media but I guess I welcome it

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

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[a-mint-bear]

Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

Parts: [ x / 2 ]

---

It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that. 

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet. 

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore. 

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options. 

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room. 

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit. 

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself. 

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower. 

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient. 

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options. 

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing. 

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy. 

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment. 

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon. 

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing… 

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him. 

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear. 

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention. 

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit. 

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance. 

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way. 

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did. 

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him. 

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep. 

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder. 

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer. 

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat. 

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp. 

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless. 

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck. 

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part. 

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad. 

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint. 

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

[minorlyatfault]

𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄, 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ! j. todd x reader

𝓢ynopsis: jason doesn't like it when you're away. but he doesn't like it. & after an entire week without you, he's clinging by his fingernails. the moment you step through the door, he's all over you▰gripping, kissing, taking every second you were away back. he's needy, desperate, & legit refuses to let you leave. not that you mind.

𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. ooc. my 2 am writing. angst(?????). making out.

𝓝otes:

001. hozier is today's savior.(he's everyday's saviour.)

002. straight fucking A's!! dawg, my grades in math & science were surprisingly high.

003. all i need to do now is to make my research teacher realize that my research is actually difficult & not "simple"

004. won't post the pomegranate one 2day or anytime now(bc i don't like it) so take this uhh,,, old worknofmine.

005. inspo of the work was this art by @/ciricearts (idk if it's noticable tho. THSIS BYT SUCKS)

jason was gonna die.

the apartment was too silent.

too vacant.

you were supposed to be away for a week. you let him know in advance, reassured him that it was just business, that you’d call when you could, that you’d be home before he knew it. he told you something like, “yeah, i’ll be okay,” & acted like he wasn’t already in dread of it.

but he was not okay. not even remotely.

it began small. the first two days, he told himself it wasn’t so bad. he stayed busy▰hit the gym, went on patrol, even managed to get through a few chapters of that book you’d been pestering him to read

he even maintained his texts to you as usual, casual, joking with you about how dull work must be without him there.

then, on day three, the apartment felt too large.

by day four, he was walking back & forth.

on day five, he was restless, checking his phone so much that it was a habit. the messages were still arriving▰briefly worded, bittersweet, i miss you’s & i love you's that should have sufficed▰but they didn’t. not if you weren’t present. not when the bed was cold, when his hands had nothing to grasp. not when you're not seated in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, smothering him with kisses. forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, lips, chin, jaw, neck. none.

by day six, he realized how terrible this was.

because jason todd didn’t wait. he didn’t wait around. he was accustomed to solitude. he had been in solitude for so long before you even entered his life. & now, without you, it seemed like something within him was collapsing.

which brought him to now.

the seventh day.

jason slumped on the couch, tapping his fingers on the armrest, head resting in his hand. his eyes were tired from sleep deprivation, jaw aching from clenching. he was tired but fidgety, too tense in body to even consider resting. his phone rested on the coffee table, its screen black, & he despised the way he couldn’t stop looking at it, as if it would come alive if he stared hard enough.

it was pathetic.

he pulled a hand across his face, exhaling harshly. this was absurd. he had endured worse. he had died. & yet, all of that paled in comparison to this▰the crushing feeling of missing you.

then, the door opened.

his head jerked up so quickly it hurt.

the moment he saw you cross the door step, he was in motion.

he didn’t even give you time to greet him.

a moment you were putting down your bag, & next, jason was on top of you. his hand curled around your wrist, pulling you toward him so sharply you were caught off guard & gasped in shock.

“jay▰?”

his arms were caging you in before you could get another word out.

the tension in his body crackled the instant he felt you pressed against him. his face pushed into your hair, fingers grasped deep into the folds of your shirt, his body actually shuddering with relief.

“you’re back,” he stated, voice roughened.

you blinked. “yeah, i am.”

jason remained still. just held you, arms trapped around you, locked tight in case you walked away. you sighed softly & tried to diffuse his stress with a gentle stroke of your hand up his spine.

“missed me that much, huh?”

jason exhaled.

& then he destroyed you.

his lips slammed into yours, hands holding your waist like a starving man. you hardly had time to catch your breath before he was kissing you like he’d been waiting an eternity. & in a sense, he had.

his desperation seeped into each motion. his fingers twisted in your hair, pulling hard enough to make you shiver. his lips opened against yours, hot and insistent, his breath thick as he pressed you against the door.

you gasped against his mouth. “jason▰”

“don’t,” he said, not allowing you to speak. “not yet.”

his hands sneaked up your sides, fingers tracing whatever he could trace, remembering you all over again. his body against yours, & you could feel the raw tension in him, the way he was only just keeping himself together.

he kissed you again. more aggressively.

as if he could reclaim every second you’d been away.

your fingers wrapped around the collar of his jacket, pulling him in, & jason groaned at the touch. his lips left your mouth to graze your jaw, travel down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that made your breath hitch.

“you have no idea how much i missed you, doll.” he whispered against your skin.

you swallowed hard, head thrown back. “i think i’m getting the idea.” jason let out a harsh laugh before nipping at your collarbone, & you gasped. his arm around you tightened, as if he wasn’t yet certain you were real, that you were truly here.

“you left me,” he whispered, his voice low & accusatory. your palms crept up to cup his face, making him meet your gaze. his pupils were dilated, cheeks flushed, lips puffy from how intensely he’d kissed you.

“i came back,” you whispered.

jason’s face relaxed, just a fraction. but then his hands tightened around your waist, drawing you into him so tightly there wasn’t even an inch of space remaining between you.

“never leave for that long again,” he grunted. your heart tightened at the yearning in his tone. the vulnerability. jason never wanted to admit when something hurt▰but here he was, all but pleading with you to never leave him again.

you kissed him, gentler this time. slow & sweet, fingers intertwining in his hair.

jason took a trembling breath against your lips, as if he was only just allowing himself to breathe.

“i missed you too, jay,” you whispered.

jason drew a harsh breath, forehead against yours. “not as much as i missed you.”

you smiled, stroking your thumbs across the bags beneath his eyes.

“you need sleep.”

jason scoffed. “what i require is to catch up on a week of lost kisses.”

you laughed, running a hand through your hair. “jay▰”

he shut you up with another kiss, one that was more languid. more in check. like he was indulging himself.

“i mean it,” he grunted. “you’re not leaving me like that again.”

your heart tightened. you know jason had issues with abandonment, that too much time alone threw his head.

you should’ve known how much this was tormenting him.you cupped his face, touching your lips softly against his forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” you vowed.

jason exhaled the breath he had been holding, his whole body relaxing against your own.

“…good,” he grumbled. “because i’m not losing you.”

& you knew that he did not say it out of bravado.

jason would not let you out of his eyesight.

you awoke to jason rolled around you, face buried in your neck, arms tied so tightly around you it was almost choking.

you rolled over slightly, only for jason to moan and hold you closer.

“jay, i have to▰”

“no,” he grumbled, mouth against your skin.

you let out a breathless chuckle. “you’re ridiculous.”

he huffed. “you left me for a week.”

you rolled your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. “i’m right here.”

jason grumbled something incoherent before nuzzling deeper into you.

“…you’re still not allowed to leave.”

you sighed, but there was a smile on your face.

jason todd▰your big, scary red hood▰

was the clingiest man on earth.

not that it's a bad thing.

© minorlyatfault, 2025

[tonycries]

Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.

Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you: 1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator. 2. Your dear fiancé.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.

Word count. 3.0k

A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.

Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing. 

It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.

Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now. 

But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.

---

It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.

Was Satoru running late on a mission today?  

It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.

Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.

Wait.

Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?

“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day. 

Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?

“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence. 

Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step. 

Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.

Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.

There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru. 

Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair. 

Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing. 

“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance. 

“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.

In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.

“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.

You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.

Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.

Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up. 

A shiver runs down your spine.

“Toru…you okay?”

“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer. 

“Satoru.”

The simple call of his name sealed your fate.

The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.

“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?

“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?

“What?” 

“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt. 

And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth. 

Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.

Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..

Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.

You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy. 

You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours. 

Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.

Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection. 

Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.

Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue. 

In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?

Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.

As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.

“T-Toru…are you okay?” 

But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.

A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you. 

You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.

“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.

You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs. 

You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.

“I want-”

You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core. 

You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive. 

“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed. 

Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.

It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.

“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”

Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor. 

“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle. 

Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies. 

With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.

If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.

Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.

“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine. 

“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.

Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”

You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally. 

“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure. 

You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt. 

Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.” 

You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.

His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy. 

“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.

Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.

“One- more.” he moans.

Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.” 

“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts. 

You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed. 

Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.

Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick. 

Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out. 

“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets. 

As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.

You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully. 

Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.

Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out. 

Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half. 

Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive. 

Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night. 

Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore. 

“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.

You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.

Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru. 

The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?

That’s when you black out.

Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.

Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch. 

What happened.

“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.

“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?

“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”

“...wow.”

“Wow.” 

“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”

“...”

A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”

A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[onceinablueberrymoon]

intentionally by chance | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | series masterlist scenario: a month after seeing the salesman on his way to the airport, gi-hun returns to that subway station every day, hoping to find the salesman and confront him. this is where you come in. setting: takes place after the events of season 1, but before gi-hun hires the loan shark group to search for the salesman warnings: deception; pregnant!reader; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 1.3k notes: salesman fluff! ♡ this guy’s been plaguing my thoughts for weeks now, so i had to write about him. my first fic in years! i like to think that S1 salesman is more chill than in S2. please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Excuse me… Can you please help me?”

The red-haired man, who was perusing the endless options of cup ramyeon, turned in your direction, but remained planted a few feet away from you. 

“Me?” He pointed at himself.

You nodded, adjusting the items you were holding in your arms. “Can you grab me that cup of ramyeon from the shelf? I’d get it, but my hands are full…” 

The man walked over and retrieved your cup of ramyeon. As he handed it to you, he noticed your pronounced bump under your sweater and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Miss, you’re in no condition to be carrying so much. Please, let me help you bring it to the checkout.”

With your approval, he unloaded the rest of your snacks into his arms. The two of you walked to the register, where you insisted on paying for his own cup of ramyeon. You suggested eating the ramyeon at one of the tables outside the subway station’s convenience store, but he insisted on sitting on a bench on the subway platform. 

“Is there a particular reason you wanted to eat here? It’s not the most ideal dining spot…” You slurped your noodles happily. The man ate slowly, popping his head up every so often and eyeing his surroundings carefully. 

“I’m… looking for something. Nothing you should worry yourself with,” he continued to eat his food while you gave him a skeptical look.

“Perhaps I could help? Well, as long as I don’t have to move very much,” you chuckled, patting your stomach. He gave you a soft smile before changing the topic. 

“Shouldn’t your husband be buying you food instead of you coming to get it yourself?” He gestured to your bag of snacks, and you giggled.

“My husband buys me all the food I want, but sometimes I just want to get out of the house! It’s no fun being cooped up all day,” you sighed. The man nodded in understanding. 

“It’s also nice to talk to other people, like you,” you smiled at him. He returned your smile, but then his eyebrows shot up when a sharp smack echoed throughout the platform. 

The man jumped up, his cup ramyeon forgotten on the bench. You turned to see where the noise had come from, only to find a group of students huddled around another student who had dropped their textbooks on the ground. From what you could hear, it seemed like they were holding them for a friend but couldn’t handle the weight.

The red-haired man froze for a few seconds, then sat back down, heaving a big sigh. 

“Are you alright, sir? There’s nothing to worry about – it was just some books that fell.” You tried to comfort the man in some way, but he brushed the incident off. 

“I’m fine. It just… reminded me of something,” he tried his best to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t convince you. “Don’t worry about me. Please eat,” he gestured to your unfinished ramyeon, “you need strength for your baby.”

The rest of your time together was pleasant, but you were still not convinced that the man’s reaction was nothing. You both finished your noodles, disposing the packaging and your utensils before parting ways. 

Once you returned home, you put the remaining snacks away and settled on the sofa. There were still a few hours before your husband was due home. You got yourself comfortable, curled up under a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.

“Rough day?”

You cracked open your eyes. All you could see was a blurry grey shape, but you already knew who it was. 

Blinking your eyes a few times, your husband’s handsome face came into focus, with his usually crisp grey suit looking a bit creased. His usual smirk graced his face as he looked down at you on the sofa.

“I should be asking you that. What happened to your suit?” You sat up and he sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“One prospective player became violent when he lost at ddakji for the 20th time in a row. Of course, I was able to subdue him, but it took more effort than usual,” your husband tried to press down a crease on his sleeve, but to no avail. He rested a hand on your rounded belly, gently rubbing circles with his fingers.

“How was today? I trust you succeeded in your mission?” 

You scoffed, “He was exactly where you said he’d be. I was able to have a conversation with him. We even ate ramyeon together for lunch!” 

Your husband turned to face you, an eyebrow raised. “You ate ramyeon together?” He gave a small pout, “I thought I was the only one you ate ramyeon with.”

Immediately, your face flustered as you explained yourself, “Hey, you know that I would never cheat!” Then, you scoffed, “We ate cup ramyeon, alright? Not whatever fantasy you’re imagining in that head of yours.” He laughed, pecking you on the cheek.

“Oh, but I have some exciting news,” you said with a sparkle in your eyes. “He’s still looking for you. And he’s basically gone mad trying to find you.” This caught your husband’s attention.

“While we were eating, there was a loud noise. Turned out that a kid dropped their books. But Gi-hun didn’t know that. He shot up so fast I swear I thought he was possessed!” 

Your husband seemed to take in your findings carefully, continuing his circles on your bump as if they helped him focus. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what he was looking for, but he specifically wanted us to sit on the subway platform, so I think it’s safe to say he’s searching for you.” Your husband had previously informed you that he had spotted a player he had already recruited at the Incheon Airport subway station, albeit with flaming red hair. After talking with the Frontman, he confirmed that Seong Gi-hun was indeed the winner of the 33rd edition of the Games. 

Once you shared the rest of your intel with your husband, you let out a big sigh. 

“Should I meet with Gi-hun again? It’d be useful to know his location and I could maybe gather more info,” you looked at your husband who had since sat up, but he didn’t take his hand off your bump. 

He pondered your question for a moment. “While I would benefit from knowing his whereabouts, I’m more afraid of something happening to you,” his voice sounded strained. “I wouldn’t be there to protect you and our child.” 

You leaned onto his shoulder, resting a hand on top of his on your belly. “We’ll be fine. If anything, Gi-hun was also concerned for me because of the baby,” you winked. “Maybe they’re the key to earning his trust.” 

Your husband’s lips tightened into a straight line. While he wasn’t happy that you would spend time with someone who clearly despised him, you were right — your pregnancy would lower Gi-hun’s defenses. You knew how much your husband’s schedule was impacted by Gi-hun’s constant presence on the AREX subway line. It would greatly help your husband if you could keep Gi-hun at one station while he recruited prospective players for the Games. 

Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stood up, attempting once again to smooth out the crease on his sleeve. “We’ll see. I’ll talk to the Frontman to see if we can get you any additional protection. I still don’t like the idea of you being around Gi-hun alone. If he learns of our relationship, I imagine he will use you as ransom,” he clicks his tongue, “We can’t have that now, can we?” 

You shook your head and stood up next to your husband. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“For now, continue researching prospective players. I’m almost done with your last batch,” he flashed his signature smirk, which you returned with a soft smile of your own.

“On it. Rumour has it that Tapgol Park has an abundance of people down on their luck…”

[sleeplessdove]

— bubble pop electric !

♡ perv!dealer! e. williams x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re at the drive in with your new dealer, what could go wrong?

a/n: just a writing warm up im sorry

warnings: not proofread we die like laura palmer, dealer ellie, weed usage, heavy intoxication kink, perv behavior, stalking somewhat, public sex, degrading, praising, pet names, toxic ellie my beloved, dubious consent, fingering (r! receiving), loser ass ellie, sorta scent kink i guess, manipulation, sex while intoxicated, mentions of further sex lol maybe a pt 2 is coming, probably lots more so proceed with caution !!!

wc: 5k

The sound of your ringtone echoed through your bedroom, making you perk up from where you were seated on your bed. 

She’s right on time, 7:30 on the dot ! 

You hadn’t been expecting her to show up when she had said she would, as your friends that bought their weed supply from Ellie often complained that she showed up whenever she wanted. Then again, she also swore she didn’t do drop offs for anyone and yet she had immediately offered to stop by your place to deliver everything you had asked for. 

She had joked with you over text that it was only because you were a first time customer, she had to make a good impression after all. 

Either way, you weren’t one to question good things so you quickly scrambled out of your bed before texting her that you would be out in a second. 

You tucked your cash into your waistband with shaking fingers, your nerves tingling as you made your way towards the front door with long strides. 

Fuck, why were you so nervous? It’s not like you were doing anything inherently wrong— you just wanted to relax and stop bumming off your other friends' joints by ensuring you had your own stuff to smoke. 

Maybe it was Ellie’s reputation, as you had barely interacted with her besides the small nod she’d give you when she spotted you at parties of mutual friends. She kept to herself for the most part, but that didn’t stop you from hearing about how she was fucking half the girls at the college you both attended. 

And from what you heard, she was good at what she did with those other women. It wasn’t at all hard to believe, as she had a certain way about her that drew you in and you were sure many others felt the same. When she texted you back, even just asking you to specify what exactly you wanted to buy from her, you found yourself smiling at your phone. 

It was the little nicknames, the way she seemed genuinely interested in giving you the best experience possible as a first time buyer. But you had to reason with yourself, reminding yourself that she was just trying to make a sale so of course she was going to be a little sweet on you. 

Even with a rational mind, you couldn’t help but take in a shaky breath as you stepped out into the cool air of the night, spotting Ellie’s car not too far away. You gave a small nervous wave as you walked towards your car before you silently cursed yourself for the embarrassing gesture. 

Despite it, you opened the passenger door of her car and got in, just as she had told you to do over text. Immediately, you picked up on the scent of weed— good weed clinging to the air along with the warm scent of whatever expensive cologne she was wearing. The smell seemed to calm your nerves enough that you were able to give a soft smile. 

“Hey, thanks for coming by. I fucked up my tires last week and you know how expensive that is so I’ve just been—“ you begin to ramble due to how anxious you feel, but when your eyes flicker towards her amused expression you quickly cut yourself off. 

“Sorry” you say with a small laugh, placing your hands on your lap and smoothing out the material of your skirt to soothe yourself. Ellie is quick to shake her head, offering you a smile that makes the corner of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly . 

“What’re you apologizing for, sweet girl?” she questions, all too relaxed. The pet name alone had you feeling dizzy with unexpected emotions. You only give a slight shrug of your shoulders, attempting to appear just as relaxed as Ellie does. “Uhm– I just, I mean you don’t care about that stuff” you mutter with a sheepish smile, fumbling with your skirt for a moment before you pull out the cash you had been saving for this very occasion. 

You hold it out to her as if it were some sort of peace offering, but Ellie lightly shakes her head and pushes your hand away gently, rejecting the money you had saved up for weeks. “You think I don’t care?” she questions, blatantly ignoring the fact that she was  supposed to be your dealer and nothing more. The odd question makes you falter for a moment, unsure of how you’re meant to respond. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just don’t think you wanna hear me rambling on” you mutter, your voice far softer than intended. Although it seems as if you picked the correct answer, as Ellie’s grin only seems to widen. “It’s important for me to care about my customers, isn’t it?” she jokes, pleased with herself as she watches you relax in the slightest bit from her playful tone. “I guess so” you say with a breathy laugh, feeling the tension in your body slowly melting away. 

“Is this not enough or…?” you begin, looking down at the money that was still held loosely in your hand, as if you were expecting her to tell you that her prices had suddenly gone up. “First time customer means you get it for free” she says smoothly, reaching into the backseat to grab the baggy she had made just for you. An assortment of homemade edibles and prerolls filled the baby pink baggie she had placed them in, although you had only requested prerolls. 

Your eyes were wide as you looked between her and the goods she had prepared just for you, as if you were a deer with headlights staring back at you. From what you had heard, Ellie didn’t fuck around when it came to her money. She wanted on time payments or even payments in advance, she was a business woman after all. It was hard for you to fathom such a concept, as you were unused to such kindness, especially from someone with her reputation. 

But despite your lack of knowledge of her, Ellie knew all about you. She had spent months slowly befriending your friends just so you would feel comfortable enough to buy from her. Not that she liked selling to any of your friends, but she would do anything to get closer to you. There was no rhyme or reason for her infatuation, and she chose not to question the way she felt about you. 

“I couldn’t– I mean, I can’t” you begin, shaking your head but Ellie is quick to cut you off. “I just want you to test it out, don’t worry about it” she says in a voice that leaves no room for argument. You wanted to object, but you knew there was no point at all. So you simply tuck the cash back in your waistband, offering her a bright smile. 

“You’re not like people say you are” you say without even thinking, inwardly cringing at your choice of words the second you register what you had said to her. She doesn’t seem offended, although she raised a curious brow. “What do people say I’m like?” she questions, not at all seeming offended. 

Ellie knew she had a rather harsh personality with others, but she hadn’t expected that information to reach you. It was as if her plot was falling apart right before her eyes, and yet she had to keep up her laid back facade. “Mm, I don’t know. You’re just– different than what they say” you respond, not really wanting to explain to her that everyone called her a bitch and those who didn’t only spoke highly of her because they had slept with her. 

She doesn’t press the issue, nodding a bit and thanking god that you weren’t threatened by her presence like you used to be. Before you even get the chance to pluck the baggie from her hands, she speaks up once more. 

“You got someone to smoke this with? S’ pretty strong… and if you need someone to make sure you don’t go overboard or anything–” she begins, and you could swear for a moment her voice cracks from nerves. She is so concerned with your wellbeing and for whatever reason it made you blush, your face growing warmer with each passing second. “My place is kind of a mess right now” you tell her in a somewhat disappointed voice, as some part of you ached to be alone with her for a while longer, even if it was just because she didn’t want you to end up greening out. 

“Well we could go to that shitty drive-in downtown, just so you don’t have to be alone” she offers, her fingers lightly tapping against her thigh in a rhythmic manner. “But no pressure, I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but I don’t mean it like that” she lies through her teeth, knowing damn well she had spent the last few weeks fucking herself with her eyes squeezed shut, the image of you held tightly in her mind. 

But you didn’t know that, so who cares? 

You nod quickly, trying to pretend you weren’t discouraged by her comment, as some part of you wanted her to take you to the drive-in with the intention of getting in your pants. “I know, I know. But yeah, why not? I heard they’re playing the original Romeo and Juliet tonight” you say, buckling your seatbelt as she starts up the engine. Ellie couldn’t care less about what they’re playing tonight, all she cares about is getting you alone. 

Ellie had placed the baggie of goods onto your lap before she began driving, to ensure that you didn’t think she was trying to withhold it from you. You kept it grasped tightly in your hands, as if it were a lifeline as your mind raced at a mile a minute. Her music played faintly, some old rap you recognized but made no comment on since the silence between the two of you was comfortable enough. 

All the while, Ellie was trying to collect her own thoughts, as she couldn’t afford to fuck this up after she had worked so hard just to get here. But based on how you were humming along to the music ever so softly, she could tell you weren’t as apprehensive about her as you once were and that helped put her mind to rest. 

Ellie refuses to let you pay even when she has to get the tickets for the movie and you try not to make a fuss about it, doing your best to accept her acts of kindness. By the time the two of you reached the drive-in, the movie was already halfway through but fortunately there was barely anyone else there so Ellie quickly found a spot to park. As she shifted the parking gear into place, she let out a relaxed sigh and glances over to you. 

She takes a moment to simply analyze your delicate features, the way your lips part in awe as the tragic film plays out before you, your attention already on the screen despite only being there for a few moments. With a light nudge, she managed to get your attention back on her so that she could speak to you directly. 

“We should get in the backseat, just so no one sees us smoking n’ it’s more comfortable, so you can enjoy your movie” she states as if it were basic knowledge, and before you can even think her words over, your body begins to move on its own as you step out of the car only to open the back door and slide in there instead. You can’t help but think of how thoughtful she is, how kind she is. This was enough for you to reason that she had no other intentions other than ensuring your safety, although your heart continued to pound in your chest as she settled in the backseat with you. 

She already had a lighter ready, gripped tightly in one hand before she extended her free hand to you, silently prompting you to give her one of the prerolls she had made just for you. You open up the baggie, marveling at the soft baby pink color of the rolling paper she had used for your order. 

As you give it to her, your hands brush against each other and you can feel just how warm she is, a stark contrast to your cool skin. You have to make an effort to not shiver at the contact, the simple act making your mind grow a bit fuzzy.. It was either that or the fact that the scent of weed was already thick in the air the second she lit it for you, along with a hint of something else that took you a moment to put your finger on. 

“Is that lavender?” you question, your head tilting with curiosity as you watch Ellie take a small puff of the joint to make sure it would burn properly before she held it out for you to take. “Smells good, hm? Makes it a little easier to smoke when you roll with lavender, smoother to smoke, at least I think so” she mutters with a slight shrug, trying to ignore the way just watching you take a shaky inhale makes her need for you grow stronger. 

She knew you had smoked before, but not enough to really be a regular at it. This was shown in the way you let out a weak cough, your cheeks growing rosy in the slightest bit. Often, Ellie would dread smoking with inexperienced people but with you, she was in heaven. “S’ good, really good” you huff between your coughs and your voice was truthful despite it all. Lavender was one of the most soothing scents to you, and it helped you relax before taking a few more hits. 

You think for a moment that as good as the smoke is, you’re not really feeling a high that was different from anything else you were used to. That was until you tried to hand Ellie the joint, and you realized your hand was trembling to the point where she had to wrap a firm hand around your wrist so that she could steady you enough to take it from you. 

You have to bury the burning sensation of embarrassment, as you hadn’t taken her warning seriously when she had told you just how strong her stuff was. But the feel of her strong hand wrapping around your wrist only seems to add to the dizzy feeling blossoming within your mind, a pleased sigh falling from your lips as her touch grounds you as much as it possibly can, considering you’re already out of it. 

“Poor baby” she coos in an all too sweet tone that only muddles your mind further. She takes a few hits with ease, her lungs being adjusted to the aching burn that would spread throughout her lungs. You can only watch her with hazy eyes, the realization that you’re alone with someone you had kept in the back of your mind for months suddenly making you feel overwhelmed. Your eyes flicker back towards the movie that continues to play, the smoke bleeding through the windows since Ellie had opened them just enough to make sure she didn’t completely hot box her car. 

Ellie can sense your anxiousness and it makes her heart ache in the most pathetic way. You were completely gone, but Ellie needed you to be a little more pliant if she wanted to be able to get what she wanted. So she brought the joint to your lips, her own hand steady and calm. 

“Just a few more hits for me, sweet girl. You can do it, can’t you?” she asks in a warm tone, easing you into the idea of following her every command. Some part of her is worried she is asking for too much too fast, but you eagerly wrap your lips around the filter of the joint without the slightest bit of hesitation. 

Even with your scrambled mind, you knew that you wanted to please Ellie. You needed to make her proud of you, although you’re unsure why this is such a necessity. But in the midst of your high, you don’t think to question it at all. To you, she is simply being kind and considerate, such a far cry from the other people you knew. 

The fresh hits burn even more, and Ellie is quick to soothe your coughing fit by gently rubbing circles on your back. The smallest touch had goosebumps rising on your skin and you desperately craved more contact, yet you were too fearful to ask for it. So you remain as still as a statue, praying that this isn’t some weed induced hallucination. 

Your muscles begin to relax and Ellie begrudgingly pulls her hand away, not wanting to overwhelm you further. But the moment her warmth is gone, you let out a pitiful whine. It’s breathy and sounds borderline pornographic, as if she had just pulled her fucking strap out of you or something. 

It was a simple touch, and yet it was all that mattered to you in that moment. For the first time ever, Ellie is unsure of what move to make next. She has to play her cards right, lest she scare you off. So she simply watches the way you sway in your seat, your eyes red and half lidded as you look at her with a heartbroken expression due to her no longer touching you. 

“Look at you, so dumb n’ sweet” she coos, her voice making a mockery of the affection she felt towards you. The tone she uses with you is so gentle that you don’t even recognize the degrading words, simply shivering with pleasure as she blows smoke straight into your face before stubbing out the small bit of the joint that is left into an ashtray she had in the car for her cigarette habit. 

Some part of your brain knows that you are too out of it, the world around you spinning far too fast for your liking. And yet, there is nowhere in the world you’d rather be. “You think m’ sweet?” you question, a soft laugh tumbling from your lips. 

Ellie can’t believe that you had chosen to focus on that part of her sentence when she had just called you dumb without any remorse. God, you were everything she wanted and more. 

She nods her head slightly, the weed making her heart beat faster than usual as she slowly inched closer to you in the backseat. The sound of the movie acted as background noise, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt Ellie’s breath fanning against your neck in the slightest. 

Her breathing pattern had changed, short inhales with longer exhales as she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that you had willingly smoked over the limit you were comfortable with just to please her. “Course’ I do. Sweetest little thing I’ve ever met in this god forsaken town” she mutters, pressing a feather light kiss to your neck. 

It was enough to make you shiver, a lazy grin on your lips because in your confused mind, you were the luckiest person in the world. Free weed and the hottest girl at your college was worshipping you as if you were something holy was not how you expected your usual Friday night to play out, yet here you were. 

Ellie was choosing to take her time with you, her senses heightened enough that she can pick up on every bit of your perfume. The intoxicating scent of lavender, jasmine, and vanilla swirled in her mind and left her desperate to be as close to you as possible. 

Her strong hand grips your waist, pulling you closer to her own body until you can feel her rapid heartbeat fluttering beneath her skin due to your bodies being flush tight against one another. “Just relax, baby. No need to think when m’ here, alright? Let all those thoughts fade away n’ focus on being here with me” she whispers, her other hand sliding down your body until she can ease it between your thighs. 

She thanks whatever higher power there is that you aren’t wearing any shorts under your little skirt, her fingers coming into contact with your panties that were embarrassingly wet. Ellie uses two fingers to trace the damp patch on the cotton material, soft curses falling from her rosy lips as she watched your brows knit with a mix of confusion and pleasure. 

“Doing so good for me, aren’t you? I knew you’d be so well behaved” she hums, her voice shaky and breathless as she eases her fingers upwards until she can feel your puffy clit through your panties. 

With slow, almost reverent motions, she rubs your aching bud through the soft material. The sensation enveloped your entire body, leaving you to moan weakly as she pushes your thighs apart a bit further just to see how willing you are. 

She is pleased to find that you let her manhandle you into the position she wants without question, your hazy mind far more focused on what your cunt wants. As much as she loves watching your expression of ecstasy, she needs to taste you on her tongue, to memorize every last inch of your mouth so that no one knows you as well as she does. 

As her fingers continue to move against your panties, she captures your lips in a kiss that reflects the need she has been harboring for months. It’s not rough, slower than her usual method of kissing. It is as if she is praising your body through the way she touches you, her tongue as smooth as velvet as it dances along your own. 

With you so lost in the kiss, she uses the opportunity to push the thin material of your panties to the side so she can properly rub your aching clit. It’s filthy how wer you are, her fingers sticky with your arousal after a few seconds of her intimate touch. As much as you are relieved by the contact, it also feels like it is consuming you completely. 

You can’t help but whine against her lips, your shaky hand weakly grasping her wrist in an attempt to pull her hand away from your dripping cunt. But Ellie refuses to yield, unbothered by your pleas for her to slow down. 

“I’m going easy on you, silly girl. It must be all that weed getting in your head, making you imagine things” she muses. She was practically blaming you for how worked up you were, as if she wasn’t the one rubbing your clit at a maddeningly slow pace. 

The sick part was that you truly believed her, you genuinely thought that someone like Ellie knew more than you did. You were the one who had smoked so much and you wanted her touch, so what right did you have to complain about it? 

“More” you plead breathlessly, tears welling in your reddened eyes and quickly spilling down your soft cheeks. It was as if you had no control over your body, and it was running based on pure primal instinct. 

The sight of your tears only turns Ellie on more, her own cunt aching for stimulation. But all she cares about is getting you off, so she shushes you ever so gently before easing one of her fingers into your pussy. 

Your body tenses from the intrusion, hiccups leaving your parted lips as she sinks her finger into your gooey, pliant cunt. Your walls are slick with arousal and Ellie wishes with every fiber of her being that she could sink her strap into you and give you what you really wanted but her fingers would have to do for now. 

“Thaaaat’s it. Look at this pretty little cunt, taking me so well” she praises, kissing the corner of your lips before easing a few kisses down your jaw. Her dirty words seem so romantic when you’re in such a fuzzy state of mind and you are just so pleased that she is giving you so much attention. 

Your hands are restless, tugging at Ellie’s shirt— although you’re unsure if you’re trying to pull her closer or push her away. “Can’t do it, can’t!” you cry, only for her to add a second finger into your slick hole. She pumps her fingers at a slow pace, not feeling the need to be rough because she knows the feeling is intense enough as is. 

You are left to squeeze your thighs together, the pleasure bordering on pain due to how quickly everything is happening. “But you’re doing so well, angel. You wanted more, didn’t you? Did you lie to me, hm?” she questions, questioning you as if she wasn’t the perv who was fucking some sweet girl in the back of her car. 

The question makes you shake your head feverishly, not wanting her to think lowly of you. “No, I promise. S’ just a lot, never ever— mm fuck, never felt like this before” you whisper, your voice unsteady. Her fingers stretched you open perfectly, her thumb still focusing on tracing small circles over your clit. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know. No one has ever taken care of you properly, huh? Those stupid girls you sleep with don’t know how to please a precious thing like you” she says in a syrupy sweet tone that only serves to dumb you down further. 

You nod your head, unsure what you’re even saying anymore. You couldn’t care less, not when she’s curling her fingers inside you just enough to hit the perfect spot. Her fingers thrust against the spongy spot, her own cunt clenching around nothing as she watches you rut against her hand. 

“Gonna cum, gonna— mmf” you try to warn her, as you were not used to finishing so quickly. But your warning doesn’t cause her to slow down in the slightest, she simply keeps her pace as she licks a long stripe up your neck before connecting your lips to hers once more. 

She swallows every single one of your cries as your cream gathers at the base of her fingers, a lewd white ring of your essence marking her as yours. Ellie can feel her ego grow three sizes as she feels your cunt clamp down on her fingers like a silken vice, evidence of your release all over her hand. 

Ellie helps you ride out your orgasm, lazily pumping her fingers deep into your cunt until you pull away from the kiss just to whine that you can’t go any further. Since she had gotten what she wanted, she finally eases her fingers out of you and brings them to her lips instead. 

She keeps her eyes focused on your fucked out expression, watching your chest heave as she sucks her fingers clean. The taste of you leaves her moaning, as it was saccharine and everything she had imagined it to be. 

You are still lost in the haze of your high, your nerve endings seeming to tingle all over as you try to even out your breathing. The effects of the weed haven’t eased up and so you give Ellie a bashful grin, still so shy in her presence despite what had happened. 

The sight of you still behaving so sweetly pleases her in a way she can’t describe, as the purity of your heart seems to only draw her closer. Without missing a beat, she tugs your underwear back in place and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“You wanna make me feel good too, don’t you?” she asks softly, her fingers absentmindedly toying with your hair. It’s not a demand at all, as she simply wants to see what state of mind you’re in. 

Much to her satisfaction, you slowly nod your head after you take a moment to register her words. “Wanna make you feel good” you babble, repeating her words as if you were nothing more than a mindless doll. 

“Atta’ girl” she praises instantly, using gentle movements to help you sit up properly but letting you remain close to her. “How bout’ we go back to my place, just for a bit. We can smoke some more once we’re there and then I’ll let you touch me” she offers, acting casual about it so that you remained in your pliant headspace. 

The offer of being able to go to her house causes you to instinctively nod your head, an eager grin on your lips as you take notice of the windows that were fogged up despite being opened up just a bit. “Pretty please” you beg in a voice that makes Ellie’s heart stutter for a moment or two because she knew she was about to spend the rest of the night either rubbing your slick cunts together or simply letting you eat her out so that you can learn how to properly please her. 

Maybe both if you were awake long enough, although she was sure that after another round the weed would have you out like a light. 

As the credits of the movie begin to roll, she helps you get back into the passenger seat, even buckling your seatbelt for you and giving you one last gentle kiss before she got in the driver's seat. You were still in a daze and thanks to how strong the weed was, Ellie knew she would have you all to herself for the rest of the night. 

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4

he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.

and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀

you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??

messages;

ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning

you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/

you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋

ryo<3: have fun 👍

omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.

he being satoru.

it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.

there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.

let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.

at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.

it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.

“did you buy the candy?”

“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”

“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.

he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.

“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”

us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—

“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”

*bonus*

sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;

but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️

a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶

*not edited*

[trashytracktales]

AND softdom lando with slightly unexperienced reader!!!! kill me nowwwe it cannot live only in my head

Nothing less | LN⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── No, cause you know what, anon? Let me do something about it real quick (I changed some things around on purpose, because I either go hard or go home lmao). ENJOY 💋

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𐙚 summary ──── It's their first time together, and Lando takes the lead, ensuring every touch and word is focused on her comfort and pleasure.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x virgin!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 catetegory ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, reader's first time, new relationship dynamics, soft dom!Lando, fluff & smut, descriptive language, swearing, unprotected sex, subtle exploration of emotional and physical trust in an intimate setting.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 26, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Gentle reminder that I know I have a lot of requests I need to take care of, and they are going to be dealt with, slowly but surely. Thank you for your patience 😁🤍

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SHE THINKS SHE should tell him, but she doesn’t know him well enough to be sure that Lando isn’t easily scared — or worse, that he wouldn’t walk out on her the second her little secret gets out.

They’ve only been dating for two weeks, but somehow it feels longer than that. Obviously, they’ve talked about sex before — casually, the way new couples do when everything still feels exciting and full of possibilities. But she never told him outright that she’s a virgin. He never specifically asked, and she didn’t see a way to bring it up without making things awkward.

In the midst of her chaotic thoughts, two things are certain: 1) she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and 2) there’s no doubt he likes her. She sees it in the way Lando looks at her, and she feels it in the way his hands touch her: sometimes by accident, other times with intent.

That's why she doesn’t want to burden him with expectations or make him feel like he has to change to meet some unspoken standard. She wants him as he is: unfiltered, imperfect, and real.

It's almost midnight, and the room is drenched in a quiet intimacy, the only sound coming from the muted hum of the city outside. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against hers with deliberate slowness. The soft golden glow of the bedside lamp illuminates his face, accentuating the way his lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts teasing and tender.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmurs, his voice a smooth drawl that makes her stomach flip. His thumb strokes over her palm, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “That nervous?”

Her breath catches in her throat, feeling it closing in from the inside, but she nods, not trusting her voice.

“That’s okay, baby,” says Lando gently, leaning in. The warmth of his breath fans against her skin as his lips ghost over her jawline. “I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”

She nods again, her heart thudding against her rib. But the way Lando is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters, eases some of the tension coiling in her chest.

She really thinks that she should tell him—

“Words, love,” he interrupts her thoughts, his tone soft yet firm. Lando's hand tilts her chin up so she’s looking directly at him. “I need to hear you, so I know we're on the same page.”

“Yes, Lando,” she replies back, his name dripping from her mouth like honey. “I want this with you.”

His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes — desire tempered with a bit of restraint. “Sweet girl,” he says softly, the praise rolling off his tongue like a caress.

She closes her eyes, the words making her cheeks flush, but they also spark something inside her, a yearning she’s never felt so acutely before.

The air between them feels charged with so much expectancy. She knows where this is heading, can feel it in the way his eyes linger on hers, in the heat of his touch that seems to burn through her skin. The thought alone forces a wave of excitement rolling through her. At that, her body reacts before her mind catches up — her breaths quicken, her thighs press together instinctively, and a warm, insistent ache blooms low in her belly. She’s wet already, just from the anticipation, her thoughts spiraling into images of Lando gasping for air above her.

She shakes her head to push those thoughts away, just as he pulls her closer, his hands steady and confident as they frame her face. When he kisses her, his lips are so soft, moving against hers in a way that leaves no room for doubt. He’s in control, but he’s also completely attuned to her.

“If you need me to stop,” he says against her lips, “If anything feels wrong, just tell me, and we'll talk about it. Gonna need your words for this, yeah?” he continues as she nods again, making Lando puff out a small giggle, “What did I say?”

Words. Right.

“I promise I'll tell you,” she says, her voice tinged with nervousness.

He hums in approval, his hands sliding down to her waist. He moves her gently, guiding her to lie back on the bed as he leans over her. His movements are measured, his touch firm but never overwhelming. When his hands skim beneath her shirt, she tenses for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, and Lando immediately freezes.

“Hey,” he says softly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Too much?”

“No,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just— I’ve nev—”

He doesn’t let her finish. His thumb strokes soothing circles against her hip as he leans down to kiss her again, silencing her nervous stammer.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’ll go slow, alright? You and I. Just trust me.”

His words are like a balm, and she finds herself relaxing under his touch. He takes his time removing her shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as if to reassure her with every move.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says, his voice low and reverent.

Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for him, and he lets her take the lead for a moment, watching her with a quiet intensity as she unbuttons his shirt. She fumbles slightly, and he chuckles, the sound soft and warm.

“Relax, love. It’s just me,” he says, leaning down to kiss her temple; a small act of tenderness that somehow steadies her racing heart.

The warmth of his lips lingers, grounding her in the moment as her nerves begin to settle. When there's no barrier left between them, Lando's hands explore her body patiently, every touch giving her goosebumps. Then, his fingers travel lower, slipping between her legs, and he freezes in place, his breath hitching.

“Ah, shit,” he mumbles mostly to himself, almost in awe when he realizes how much of a mess she is already. “So eager, you're soaked. I could just slip right in.”

The words send a bolt of heat through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement, but they also give her enough courage to take action. Summoning all her nerve, she reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his cock with a tentative but determined grip.

She guides him to her entrance, her voice quiet but impatient as she whispers, “Then do it.”

Suddenly, that's more than enough for Lando to let his instincts take over.

He exhales sharply as he pushes forward, the heat of her drawing him in inch by inch. The sensation of her wrapped around his length nearly undoes him — soft, tight, and impossibly warm. His jaw clenches as he stills for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He presses his forehead to hers, his voice strained but tender.

“So damn tight around me, baby,” he gasps softly, his hand coming to rest on her hip. “How's it on your end? Can I move?”

She nods quickly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she adjusts to the sweet stretch. “It’s—”

Good. Perfect. Heaven.

“Didn’t feel as big in my hand,” she ends up saying, making Lando laugh in a high-pitched voice.

“Not sure weather it's a compliment or an insult,” he admits, amused.

“Just give me a sec,” she whispers, though there’s a slight trace of uncertainty in her tone.

His thumb begins to stroke soothing circles on her hip, and he kisses the corner of her mouth. “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her.

She lets out a shaky breath, her body gradually relaxing around him. With one hand, she traces the contours of Lando's face, studying every micro expression, every mole, and the way his breath hitches as she welcomes him in.

“You're perfect,” she says softly, her cheeks flushed with warmth. “Can you fuck me now?”

Lando whines, pulling back slightly before easing forward again, setting a slow, careful rhythm. The friction is intense, almost overwhelming, and he groans quietly, his grip on her hips tightening just a fraction.

Her lips part as a soft moan escapes her, and she tilts her head back, instinctively pushing her hips to meet his movements. “Lando,” she breathes, her voice a mix of need and disbelief.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, his tone laced with affection. “Tell me what you like, what feels good. Let me hear you, baby.”

“You,” she manages, her fingers threading through his hair. “It feels so—You feel so good. All of it, please.”

The corners of his mouth raise into a small, breathless smile. “Such a good girl, aren't you?” he praises, leaning down to kiss her neck as he resumes his thrusts. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Her nails dig lightly into his back, her confidence growing with each movement.

“Faster,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a foreign desire.

His brows raise slightly as he slows down, just to tease her. “Faster? You sure about that?” he asks, his voice taking on a playful edge.

“Lando,” she repeats his name, louder this time, her hips rolling against his.

“You want it that bad?” he says in slight disbelief, his movements speeding up just enough to draw a louder moan from her. Lando studies her closely, his gaze softening even as his control threatens to slip. “Look at you, fuck. Let me take care of you. Let me—”

He swallows his words as his starts thrusting into her, firmly but never rough, his touch always calibrated to her responses.

“God, you’re taking me so well,” he says, his lips brushing against her ear. “So hot and tight around me. Feels right, hm?”

Her breathing quickens at his words, her body responding in ways she doesn’t fully understand but craves nonetheless. His hands trail lower, and she arches into him instinctively, another whimper escaping her lips.

“I know, baby,” he says, his voice thick with approval. “Keep me inside.”

Lando’s rhythm falters, then slows to an almost torturous pace. Before she can question it, he drags his cock out of her entirely, leaving her pussy clenching around nothing. A cry slips from her lips, desperate and aching, but he doesn’t give her time to protest. His length glides up between her slick, puffy folds, spreading the wetness everywhere, his movements calculated and teasing.

Not to mention evil.

“Lan...” she whines, her nails digging into his back as frustration and need overwhelm her. She isn’t gentle, her fingers pressing hard enough to sting, and he lets out a low hiss.

At the sudden pain, Lando stops entirely, his eyes snapping to hers, dark and intense. “Careful, baby,” he warns, his tone soft but laced with authority.

Sitting up slightly, he reaches for a pillow, lifting her hips with ease and sliding it beneath her lower back. When he thrusts back into her, it’s maddeningly slow, as if he wants her to feel everything. His hand moves to her stomach, pressing down lightly as he fucks his cock inside her. The sensation sends shockwaves through her body, and she cries out, her voice high and pleading as the pressure amplifies the pleasure.

“Feel that?” he asks, his voice rough with arousal. “Feel how deep I am?”

She can only nod, tightening her legs around him, her body trembling as she grips the sheets for support. But curiosity and the overwhelming sensations push her to rise onto her elbows, needing to see what he’s doing to her. Her gaze drops to where their bodies meet, and that’s when she sees it — the way her lower abdomen rises and falls slightly with each of his deep, measured thrusts.

Her breath catches, her eyes widening in awe. “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Is that…?”

Lando notices her reaction immediately, his own gaze following hers. The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk, but his eyes burn with something primal. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs, tightening his hands around her waist, holding her steady. “Yeah, that’s me inside you.”

The realization sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her, and Lando seems to sense it. His grip on her waist tightens further, and he begins to move harder, his hips snapping against hers with a rhythm that’s still controlled but far more intense.

The room fills with the slik sound of her pussy as Lando thrusts in and out relentlessly, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into him.

“Let me feel you,” he growls, his voice deep. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you,” he repeats, over and over again.

She wraps her arms around Lando, pulling him closer to have something to support her. The way her pussy sucks at his cock, desperate and insistent, sends him careening over the edge before he can even process it.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, his voice breaking as his hips stutter, spilling into her with a throaty moan. He can get drunk on the way she grips him, her heat, her hunger — every part of her pulling him into pure bliss.

His forehead drops to hers, their shared breaths mingling as they pant and moan together, riding out every wave of pleasure as they hit.

Her nails are still buried in his back, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure coursing through him. He winces but doesn’t stop, his body shuddering as her walls flutter around his cock, milking every last bit of him. They’re locked together, shaking, until the pleasure ebbs into a warm, lingering buzz.

After that, Lando finally stills inside her, his body softening, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he rests his weight against her. Only then does the sharp sting on his back pull his attention, and he lets out a low chuckle, his voice rough and spent.

“You really dug in, didn’t you?” he teases, his tone affectionate as he lifts his head to look at her. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk despite the ache in his muscles.

Her face flushes with embarrassment, her hands slipping away from his back, burying into his hair instead. “Sorry,” she whispers, avoiding to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he replies, his gaze soft and adoring. “It was worth it.”

Before she can add something else, Lando leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that’s the opposite of tender. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity they just shared, and a quiet reassurance that he’s still fully present with her. His hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing against her flushed skin as he deepens the kiss, savoring her.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest together again, their breathing still uneven but calming. “You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nods, a small, blissful smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey, don't go non-verbal on me again,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Lan?” she says softly.

“Hm?”

She swallows, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn’t look away this time. “You are… I mean, it was my first time.”

For a moment, her words don’t fully register. He blinks, his brows knitting together as if he’s processing what she just said. “First time?” he repeats, his tone slow, almost disbelieving.

When she nods, her lips parting slightly as she struggles to hold his gaze, Lando’s eyes fix on hers. His first instinct is to check if she’s messing with him, but all he sees is her wrecked, post-sex state. Her hair is mussed and wild against the pillow, her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted as she breathes unevenly. The faint sheen of sweat on her body catches the soft light, and her eyes are glassy, still hazy with satisfaction. She looks thoroughly undone — raw and real.

And he knows she’s not lying.

The realization hits him like a tsunami, leaving him momentarily speechless. His jaw tenses briefly, and instead of speaking, he leans down and captures her lips in a kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic but deep and meaningful, his lips moving against hers with a peaceful intensity. His hand cups her jaw, kissing her like he’s claiming every part of her. Because he is. The thought makes his head spin — the fact that she’s his completely.

“You should’ve told me,” says Lando, his voice thick with emotion. “I would’ve been more careful.”

“No, it was perfect,” she rushes to assure him. “Because it was with you.”

His eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Are you even real?” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing her again; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, trailing down her shoulders and neck, where he makes sure to leave marks behind. His hands roam her body with a newfound reverence, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Gonna spend the rest of the night showing you how much you mean to me,” he says, his lips brushing against her collarbone. “If you’ll let me.”

Her heart swells as she nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, his voice a low hum of satisfaction. “Because you deserve nothing less.”

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