#is this a glittery cry for help?

[vc55bughead]

spotify wrapped check ✨️🫶💋

.....ok slayyyy I need therapy

[byanyan]

ㅤat this point, they're beyond wasted and vibing out to music that's too loud with several substances on standby for when the buzz starts wearing off. happy new year!!

[tonycries]

BIG BOYYY!

Synopsis. He’s a big boy, and he’s gonna make that biiig stretch fit.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, making it fit, they’re BIG, cervíx kíssing, D slipping, tummy buIges, manhandIing, p sIapping, GOJO’S POWERS, limitless, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, use of “my wife”, BRÉEDING, overstím, creampíes, cúmplay, ROUGH (Geto), squírting, mating presses, MARATHONS, slight exhíbitíonism (Higuruma), proposals, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. We all need a big boyyy-

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - ENORMOUS!

“Don’t tell me yer runnin’ already, doll?” Toji’s husked breaths scorch the sagging back of your neck, a few sploshing dewdrops of saliva splattering out from his scarred lips. “M’not even hah! halfway in yet.”

What? Oh. Your head dizzies itself with the mere thought, a soft gasping moan wafting from your gaped maw. “Y-you’re lying–”

It was just too cute how your stupidly lolling head wrenches back and forth in a desperate attempt to take a goood, long look behind at the way he’s opening you up sloppily. Just the merest, tiniest swab of that tannish-pink tip spreading open your gummy walls, stretching n’ stretching. 

“M’not.” Toji grumbles out, gruff syllables hitting the curved tips of your ears. The rickety bed creaks and suddenly he’s slouching back; resting his weight just at the base of your curved spine. Before you know it, he’s got a foot pressing down on your head- “Watch me make it fit, mama.”

Two rugged hands homing themselves on either side of your prettily quivering hips, you could feel every scar and callus texturing your heated skin once Toji grits his teeth and draaaaags you down. 

Knees scuffling on the silken sheets, jittery arms trying to grapple for the headboard- anything.

You’re like a lil’ doll underneath him, all shaky as he’s manhandling you to gulp up the needy slope of his length with your slick-covered hole. More and more and more. A glossy layer of sap splashes from where he was stuffin’ you to the brim, drenching the very base of Toji’s happy trail in a glittery lacquer. 

“Would ya look at that–” You hear him drawl out from behind you, the fat pad of his thumb rubbing sluggishly down the sticky liquid pouring along his hilt. “-think this pretty pussy wants to end up hck! pregnant, doll.”

Shit, the idea he’s plugging your cottony brain with was enough to make you slobber with your arousal. You can’t help it. “Th-then do it.”

Dark brows quirked, Toji’s inching even closer to hear those whispered words of yours. And in the process he’s feeding you with a sloooow slide of his vein-covered shaft.

Almost mockingly, one of his engulfing hands reaches out to uncurl your own from the frigid bed frame. Stealing away the only thing keeping your semblance of sanity, Toji plants a sweet, sweet peck on your knuckles. “Wha’s that?”

“Th-then–” You can barely punctuate each trilling whine with words - and Toji isn’t making it any easier. Quite the opposite, in fact, after he ruts n’ ruts as you try to cry out– “-do- do it. Do it- fuuuck- wan’ you a-all inside-”

The last ringing sound out of you is a noisy squeal– followed almost instantly by the soggy slurp! of him mazing his gluey pre-capped tip past your glossed folds. And as if that wasn’t enough, Toji’s tightening his grasp on your wrist to leverage you down, down, down.

“P-please–”

“P-p-please!” He taunts dramatically from behind, octaves higher. The meaty muscles of his leg work overtime to push down your thrashing body, pinning you down and making you take it. “Stop fuckin’ moving n’ gimme- gimme a kiss, mama.”

Your tears stream down in sheeny streaks, blending with the ever-growing puddle of drool that was drenching the pillow underneath you. Poor lungs wheezing at the pressure, your sobs depart with every new swollen, throbbing inch being shoveled inside you. “H-how?”

“Tch.”

You don’t have to see it to know that Toji’s rolling his mossy, half-lidded eyes - to know that the curled ends of his lips were twisting into a lecherous smile. 

But what you certainly didn’t expect was the fleeting feeling of his lips to trace right down in a line of kisses along your perfectly arched spine. Like the calm before the storm.

The sweetest little act of pure lovin’ before Toji sets your fuzzy head free from his pressed weight, and then hooks both your arms behind your back and bottoms out–

“Meant givin’ me a kiss right ngh- here, doll.” Those snarling words strike the outside shell of your ear right before his fat, ruby-red tip was striking your cervix. Oh. Oh. 

The moment your velvety pussylips wrap ‘round his bulked base, Toji Fushiguro himself was practically collapsing right on top of you. 

His pointed chin digging into the clammy crook of your neck, sweat-polished abs glissading glibly down your back. How you looooved the drag of his naturally chiselled front, every cutting edge of his built muscles. 

He’s so fucking plump there that you can feel your fleshy innards bruise with the staggering circumference of his proud crownhead. Sweltering hot, Toji’s mushroomed tip was practically steaming out dribbles of glossy precum that flooded you from the inside out. A sleek, slippery few wires of it beading from either end of your stretched-out slit. 

Probing, fattening. 

And the stretch- oh, you couldn’t think about anything but the stretch. 

Toji wasn’t simply bottoming out, he was sinking his achy cock all the way into your lungs. Ravenous planes of his palm roaming over your tummy, Toji smirks as he feels that familiar lil’ bump from the inside. 

“Feel me? Feel me d-deeeep in that cute bulge, hm?” The sensory spheres of his fingertips scratch that bulged outline, proud. Smug. Your lungs rip out with a primal cry as his dribbling tip pokes deeply into the goopy ends of your pussy. Your cervix. Your womb. “Giving her a little ngh- kiss right here.”

“K-kissing there?” You’re babbling, stupidly.

“Mhmmm–” A few adoring little runs over where he was hitting and hitting the targeted bullseye of your g-spot. Sloshing out messy sprays of precum each and every time. “Here. Riiight here, ya hah- like it- don’cha? S’cute how wet you are.”

And you can’t even believe he’s this big - you can’t believe that he’s bloating himself up even bigger with every ragged ba-dump–! 

Pound after pound.

After pound.

The vibrations thud down your humid walls and shoot white-hot pleasure right up your spine, tongue too-heavy. “So big- so big so big— s-shooo good!”

“Yeahhh? Shooo good, is it? Look at you takin’ that f-fucking cock you said was too big.” Your teary pupils start swirling in circles upon circles inside of your eyes, matched with the exact same pace that Toji was thumbing on the shiny outside of your hole. Letting out the rawest, loudest sluuuurp when he pushes a thumb in– “Now we’re gonna work on that hck! stretchin’, mama.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Cuffin’ season.

Nanami thinks he’s about to lose it - Nanami thinks he’s about to combust. 

And he already has- a proper five helpings of his creamy, buttery cum coating your insides after so many rounds upon rounds. You were stuffed to the very brim with all your husband’s sweltering hot bouts of seed, and his tastebuds coat over with a fresh wave of saliva at your hugging cunt.

Mouth-watering. 

Nanami turns his molten, honeypool eyes over to the way your mouth hung wiiidely agape. His ruby-red tip spotting out a few more dangerous splotches of pre at the very sight of you struggling to take him more than just halfway.

“My love—” Deep baritone voice dipping into a gentle coo, his stern lips swerve up into a little grin when your pretty body trembles. “Open your eyes, darlin’- lemme see those beautiful eyes.”

Shit- you’re simply cross-eyed and dazed almost cartoonishly once you do. Your throat ripping with a few sobs at the feeling of his swiveling cock probing a few inches deeper - without even trying. So overstimulated that you can only blubber–

“K-Ken- Ken–” Hips trying and failing to raise off of the drenched-through bedsheets, you’re only succeeding in carnally itching the hood of your clit against his golden happy trail. 

“M’here, my wife–” Aw, it always made his blushed red tip twitch whenever you got this cockdrunk. A tint of loving red flushing over his high cheekbones, and one of Nanami’s massive palms claw over your sweat-matted crown to push, push, push. “You can take it, g-gonna take it allll f’me this time- aren’tcha?”

And you can only nod and nod– your sloppy hole always got so much needier after a few good, solid orgasms. N’ every scrape of his swollen, vein- shrouded shaft left you speechless, head throwing back when the grinding curve of his cock pinpoints your g-spot like two magnets. 

Nanami’s so big that he had to get you all dumb until you’re aching to be stuffed ever-more. Hiding away about ten proper inches that instinctively molded your battered pussy to all his pretty measurements. 

A few curly hairs of his tawny trail tickle your plump clit, waterlogged into a swampy mess with how much you were leaking. How much he was making you leak.

“Real pretty pussy, darlin’.” The cold fringe of his wedding band makes you let off a whiny hiss, smearing open your puffed-up pussylips with a sluggish sluuuurp. “So cute grindin’ on me. She’s like a lil’ hah- heart.”

Glassy, half-lidded eyes of yours blink upwards, “Shit-” Your unsteady knees thrash back into the curves of your tits, feeling his tannish cockhead slip against your sponged cervix. Tender. Bruised. You can’t help but throw your head back and reach for your headboard- “Shit shit shit shit- Ken–!”

“No no no no- don’t run away, my love–” Grunting, one of his arms clings around your squirming waist to pin you down. To hold you still so that Nanami’s other hand can guide one of your own over his plushly toned left pec - where he had your initials secretly tattooed, right above his heart. “Gonna take it, alriiight? Gonna take it like my hngh- good wife.”

His pretty wife. His gorgeous wife. 

Slobbering down thick stripes of slick n’ cum as he curls a hand around your throat and ruts. “S-see how much I love you, hmmm?” His split-ended head searches for your cute womb, and such saccharine mewls leave your lips once you feel yourself gapingly full. Once he was pounding a heavy-duty thrust into you until every thought departs your fuzzy mind. Bottoming out. “How much I- oh.”

Your entire body just lathers with the smell of sex and his musky cologne once Nanami’s sensual mushroom tip unapologetically snags against the ridged orifice of your g-spot. Whack. Whack. Whack- all it takes before you cum.

And you’re not just cumming - you’re squirting. 

Your vision invaded with spots of white-hot pleasure and you’re falling over the edge, arms throwing around his neck. Fingers reaching for his perspiration-dewed undercut, “Fuck- fuck m’cumming m’cumming, Ken–”

Like he wouldn’t notice– yeah, right. Nanami’s slamming into you until his pelvis rubs rawly crimson, raspy throat clogging up with your name. Your cunt just flinches with every peak of high he’s fucking you through. Dragging you through.

Really sloppy. 

Continuously probin’ the tender places of your magical spots with every echoed thwack! Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets as he swabs up the syrupy sheen of squirt decorating all your inner thighs. 

Those slick-drenched tips of his fingers sticking right between your slackened mouth, “Sweet- isn’t it, darlin’?” Breaths labored and harsh- Nanami himself sounded like he was only keeping himself together at the very seams.

His long, light lashes flap blearily, “What- wha’s that?” You’re only gurling out lucious lil’ spitballs from either side of your mouth, heart-eyed pupils doing most of the talking. His face tints a blushing pink, temples matted with beads and beads of sweat. “Awww, my wife wants ta s-spit in my ngh- fuckin’ mouth, huh?”

And before you know it- you are. Before you’re even in control, so that your husband’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs with a moan– “Mhmm– there we go, my sweet girl.” Mouth doused. “Happy?”

The curvaceous ridges of his abs gleam and glitter with sweat, tensing once his thrusts grow sloppier. Deeper. Shoving you into the screeching bedsprings, such a nicely burning stretch that your lips keep uncontrollably forming an adorable lil’ oh! The only thing snapping you back into reality being the layers of viscid cum gumming against your walls, and the way that Nanami’s bulbously bloated tip twitches.

Fuck- he didn’t even know if he could cum. Didn’t know if he even wanted to. 

But with you laid out underneath him like this? How could he not?

Trying and trying and trying and when Nanami finally reaches his high it’s with his pummeling inches pillaging your very glossed core, allll the way deep inside so that you could almost feel him in your throat. Burning hot. 

One spurt, two spurts. He’s not even reaching three slippery, slick ribbons of cum before he’s all milked dry. The very mound of his blushing tip slapping constantly until Nanami’s visage spots black. Until his toes curl, thighs shivering. 

You look up at him and you think you could cum all over again. 

Because he’s so fucking…pretty. 

All blond hair disheveled- but doing nothing to curtain his greedy gaze, sweaty upper lip trembling– Nanami pecks your forehead sweetly, “Mmmm– marry me all over again, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Rrrrrrough

Now, Geto was so big that all he has to do is plug your cunt with his red n’ swollen tip to leave you stupidly cockdrunk. To leave you mewling and squirming underneath him in such a sloppy, sloppy mating press - your hips jerking off the bed as if your dew-sheened walls weren’t just begging for more.

And ohhh, was he smug about it. 

“C’mooooon–” Geto’s sharp grin is so sleazy that you feel it sending electric trills down your desperately arched spine. Perspiration-dampened forehead resting on top of yours, he plants a resounding smack! on your puffed lips. “-s’that all ya got, gorgeous?”

Pap after powerful pap that was making your slick-dribbling entrance start to overflow, rounded globular tip of his scratching your walls down straightly in lewd lines. The deeply probing sensation so sinful that it makes you keen, “N-no! Stop teasin’ n’ just fuck me, Suguru.”

“Fuck you with-” Another spank, and another singular inch bullied past your hole. “-jus’ the tip, riiight?” 

As if to prove his point - oh, he already knows he’s proved his point - Geto’s fucking you with only that globed top. Frosting out creamy pre every time his shaft crownhead “accidentally” slipped out n’ left you clenching around nothing. 

Geto leaves three staccatos of spanks over your still-clothed, ruined cunt, the burning friction against his delicate veins making him hiss. “Can this pretty pussy even handle all hah! that?”

Such a tease. All you can do is clench your poor walls instinctively, formulating a few frothy bubbles of slick that ring around his fat hilt. Messy. “No, I want it a-all.”

His stubborn girl. 

Well- with a rickety creak, your unsteady legs are being thrown over his deltoids before you know it. Slipping n’ sliding until he’s locking them with one grasp of his beefy arms, making you ogle the sexy flex of his milky biceps. 

Geto Suguru was a mean man. With an even meaner cock, swelling into an even girthier circumference whilst he’s thumbing open your sap-glossed pussylips. Your cunt lets off the loudest, moistest sluuuurp! as he’s splattering a good bucketload of spit. 

“Hmmm, you asked for it–”

And then he isn’t easing in - he isn’t going slow. Hell no, in mere sultry nanoseconds, you’re being split so open by the entirety of Geto’s ruddied, prolonged length that you see stars.

Perhaps even the gates of heaven themselves- or, at least, you would have if you hadn’t caught a glimpse of his devilish leer. Gleaming pearly whites clenched so hard that his tastebuds coat with the slight twang of metal, gruff. 

You’re slapping at his cushy pecs and thrashing at the wide-wide-wide stretch. Even he was fucking losing it- long lashes fluttering to fight back from wrenching them shut, mouth agape, throat bobbing. 

Grunting, “C’mon- c’mon now.” Every syllable was punctuated with a harsh drag of his slobbering cock, your drenched panties only pulled to the side n’ at the complete and utter mercy of his pulsing length. His breath hitches when a solid slam! of his hips leaves your pussy spurting out in a scorching hot bucketload of slick.

Thick, sphere-shaped ends of his fingers dig underneath your underwear and reach back to give your leaking cunt a quick snap! “T-take it alllll up f’me, gorgeous. Tha’s right.”

And the sheer stretch is so good, carnally itching each inch and ounce of space inside you. The crowned cap of Geto’s boated tip makes your nails claw all dooooown his prominently muscled shoulders. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, Suguru–”

“S’that all ya hafta say?” With a quick roll of his hazed amethyst eyes, he’s snatching one of your wrists to trek up to his clammy throat. Sticking your palm over, he’s making sure your nails dig cutely into his skin. And through the glued cracks of your eyelids, you think you see his lips glisten with drool. “Choke me a lil’ don’t be ngh- shy–”

Geto’s slender hand pops out with so many decorative veins once he’s making you tighten your clingy arms. 

The curled tip of rose-pink tongue flops out between the slobbered crevice of your lips, and he’s slouching languidly to pound you on his vulgar length. A rocking back n’ forth that spearheads all the way from his bulbous dripping head to the neat tufts of his happy trail.

Having his own way with you, sliding that heavy cylindrical weight inside as you spill out in pitchy whines. 

Not too fast - something laaaaazy and sensual that leaves you counting every ruthless inch. One. two. Three. Seven. Nine- 

“Sh-shit, s’too much–” You’re crying out, your lips warbling out the cutest sobs. Geto’s long, inky hair softly tickles the sides of your face as he leans down ever-closer. Letting you scratch and bruise allll that you pleased. 

“Yeah? Yeah? Take it- take it all out on me, girl.” He’s snickering out, thwacking the curvaceous edges of his digits to make your fingernails leave pretty crescents on his heated flesh. A bright, burning blush breezes over his skin at the feeling of you caressing him from the inside. “Mmm- Lemme feel ya squeeze- lemme feel it.”

So pretty the way both sets of your lips were gleaming in a burnished sheen of sap, dangling out of your entrance in slippery ribbons. 

Honestly, you’re pulsating so hard that the throb of your fluttering folds was visible to his greedy eyes. With a sleek, quirked brow, he nudges away your sappy lips and pinches your puffed-up clit. 

Oh, you gasp.

Such a tease. Rubbing on your clit, Geto’s egging you on with every thundering slam. Just the skidding crown of his shaft leaving simpering smooches all underneath your g-spot. He was long enough that even a slight inch too deep leaves a battered crater up against your spongy cervix, blushing red tip overspilling so many copious globs of pre. 

Again and again.

“Harder.” 

“Wh-what if I choke you-”

“Harder.”

His half-lidded eyes flash when the inner sides of your thighs twitch, breaths lilting unsteadily airier in a way that was so telling. You were about to cum from just his sheer size.

And as adorable as that was, Geto had something else on his mind.

Your mouth pants out a sugary puff of air when you’re manhandled in nothing but seconds. Head spinning with comical stars when he’s flipping the two of you over to rest the globes of your ass on his sharply jutted v-line. Plump clit dragging all over the wiry hair on Geto’s base. 

Body shuddering as if you couldn’t believe just how deeply plunged he was, the raised circle of his geysering orifice houndin’ your cervix. It’s all you can do to focus your glassy peripherals on his sweetly flushed face. 

“Now…” Words coming out labored and loving– Geto guides your hands to squeeze his pretty neck tight. “Choke me wh-while you ride this biiig fuckin’ cock, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Be humble?!

“Ch-Chooooso–!” Your spit-glued lips flap stupidly with each n’ every nudging inch your sweet, sweet boyfriend was slipping inside of you. Sloooowly, so that you’re seeing stars on every thick, throbbing vein slipping past your slit. Sensually opening up spots you didn’t even know existed. 

Honestly, he wasn’t even halfway in and yet he had you seeing stars- “More. More, baby.”

And Choso? Oh, it was brutal.

The very moment that shrilling whisper departs from your pretty mouth, his parched Adam’s apple cracks with a whine. Clinging on helplessly to the side of your quivering hips with a massively clammy palm, he watches up through half-lidded eyes while you take him vulgarly good in this mating press.

Every squelch after squelch after squelch making his mushy brain oversaturated with only the thought of you and that sloppy, sloppy pussy.

A wet trickle of saliva starts up from the cherry-red corners of his lips, “Ohhh, you’re so wet.” Practically swallowing every thrust. “Am- Am I really that haaaah! big, baby?”

Was that even a question?

Damn near nine- maybe even ten whole inches that snagged at your most tender orifices without even trying. Every sharp plap! of Choso’s rutting pelvis swerving into yours left you dumbfounded, with only the slightest push of his thickly capped tip pokin’ your g-spot. So wide that your mouth was dropping into the same pathetic ‘o’ your pussy was being stretched out into. 

And he was so messy with it, too - honestly, you didn’t know if you were soaked through more because of your sappy wetness or because of the way that his ruby-red cockhead was drenching you from the inside out in such syrupy globs of pre. 

It’s sticking the inners of your trembly thighs together like adhesive, spattering out a few beaded speckles once your body comes slamming up to Choso’s. 

“I-it is.” You don’t even have to fake the way your voice shatters, a whiny little pitch that fills his vibrating eardrums like his favorite song. 

His massive hand digs even tighter on your waist, holding you almost midair so that your perked clit was gyrating deliciously against the scratchy texture of his dark happy trail. Frolicking to and fro, to and fro, to and fro. “I-is it really?”

“Yes- yes, Cho—! C-can feel you so ngh- deep inside…” Your watery pupils sprint dartingly towards the backs of your eyes, “Wan’ you even deeper.”

Fuck- a steamy batch of even more precum dribbles inside your snug cunt, so much of it that Choso has to drag his thumb between your slivery slit. Scooping up a few wadded webs from your puffy folds to plug inside your mouth-

“Don’t- don’t s-say that! Don’t talk like that-” Preeeeessing down on you with all his bulking, toned weight to make you shut up. He’s huffin’ in scorched pants against your headlessly wheezing lips, the scratchy texture of his cute tongue coming down to flick at the drool seeping endlessly out of you. “-s’g–gonna make me cum. Gonna make me…”

Choso was so fucking pretty that you’re distracted for a good few seconds.

All dampened, mahogany hair and doe-eyes that peered down at you shyly. The very bridge of his button nose crinkles once he feels your intense gaze on him, cheekbones staining with a blossoming red blush all the way from the very tips of his ears. He was hot. 

And before you can even blink your tear-glittered lashes, you’re being flipped over with only a fraction of Choso’s true strength. So that you’re on top of him.

Both groaning in carnal unison- did his length somehow bloat even bigger? You swear you’re feeling him bully a few more moistened inches past the rubbery ring of your entrance, tugging open your gummy walls. 

“T-tell me how big again–?” Slightly smug streak showing off. 

“So- oh!”

The plush mattress rickets out soft creaks! as his sculptured abdomen pushes upwards against your tight channel. Again. And again. And again and again- “Keep talkin’, baby. Wanna fit it- wanna- need ta fit it all–”

Your hands sprawl out precariously on top of his tensing core, smearing over the sheeny gloss of sweat on his pecs. Gasping swiftly, “Ch-Choso- nghhh- what-” Promptly, your spine arches into the perfect curvature on top of him, crashing your mouth into his. “What- hngh- tell me what you want, baby–?”

Oh, Choso’s almost too busy suckling on your kiss-bitten lips like his favorite candy to answer. Leaving a cloying stain of spittle behind, he’s slouching back into a sexy stance against the pillows. All eyes on you. “C-can do that- that lil’ thing with your ngh- chips, baby? Wan’ you to ride me hard.”

And how could you deny him when he was boring dead-on up at you with fawny heart-pupils like that?

“You meannnn— this?”

Geering yourself up, you’re immediately motioning your hips into the most lecherous figure eight that leaves Choso slobbering - from both fountaining divots. All the way from his simmering, drool-flooded tastebuds to that innocently strawberry-pink aperture he’s streaming out of.

Filling your tender nooks n’ crannies with so much dewy seed, his meaty thighs are splaying open like a slut so you can curve your hips into more rounded circles. Swabbing the pounding ba-dump-! of his pulsing cock ‘round and ‘round, your heart lurches to your throat when he’s tap-tap-tapping the firm ridge of his mushroomed tip on your bruised g-spot. 

Almost like…a little warning. 

A warning before Choso grabs a fistful of your slam-impacted ass and pulling you to him. Finally, finally bottoming out.

From what sounds like far off in the distance - at least to your popped ears - lets out a strained rasp. “...swallowing me. Ngh! Swallowing allll of me, my girl.” Breathless. Broken. Octaves higher, like Choso himself couldn’t believe. 

“Th-thank you-” And all you could see of his pretty eyes right now was pure white, he was in heaven. His upper lip coating with a fresh wave of perspiration, he was practically melting into you right now. Mouth parting at the clingy strands of his own cum simply pouring out of you. “Thank you- thank you thank you thank you— nghh–”

“S’cute, Cho–” He twitches rawly when you loll your head down to sneak a peck near the edge of his mouth.

“S’embarrassing…” And you’re feeling his fat cock jolt a few more times inside of you, sploshing around in the mess he’s created. Dangerously so. Oh, you knew what that meant. Sparkling eyes locked down on where your pussy was throbbing, Choso’s plump lower lip wobbles as he’s hiccuping out, “Oh…m’gonna make a mess again, baby…”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Big, big, big

“S’not gonna fit like that, ma.” The king of curses has the audacity to roll his devilish eyes at the sight of your pitifully trembling legs, clawing a hand down your sheeny glossed inner thighs with a snicker. “Ya gotta hold ‘em up nice and hah- wide-”

Whining, your calves burn. “Like this?”

“Wider if yer gonna take me.”

Honestly, this full nelson was the absolute meanest you’ve ever been put into - and Sukuna was ruthless. 

Not even your whimpering wails was enough to stop him from stretching your drooling pussy out with rounds upon rounds upon rounds. He had stamina till the end of time- and your gummy, cum-slicked walls were simply holding him hostage. 

Frothing out a thick knot of creamy white seed right on top of his matchingly hard cocks, one of Sukuna’s four arms reach down to thumb allll over the mess you were making. Smearing out a polished shine where his rotund tips were bawling, “Why’s this pussy so fuckin’ wet, brat?”

With a stinging slap to your dripping pussymound - and then another one with the front of his monstrous second tongue, you were just about ready to collapse. 

“Honestly–” Sukuna’s cushioned pecs rumble you up n’ down like a bobblehead as he titters, pinning you down with a lil’ choking hand on your tender neck. “-do I hafta teach ya how to k-keep it inside?”

“Fuh-fuuuuck–!” The dreamy sighs of your moans increase tenfold once you’re mercilessly facing the steady lap of his tongue. His massive tongue. The one split open where Sukuna’s washboard abs were slickly glissading behind you, monstrously letting your cunt gush and pour down his second throat. 

So filthy. 

And Ryomen Sukuna knows he could make swift work with your milky pussy, he knows he could save you your embarrassment of hearing those raw squelch-squelch-squelches! every time the plummy hill of his tongue was flopping back n’ forth down your silvery slit. 

But where was the fun in that?

Instead, he’s bouncing his incredibly meaty thighs to jostle your helpless body up further. Sneering, “Keh- making such a mess of things, brat. N’ I’m the one ta clean it up.” You swear you’re feeling both sets of his mouths grin at the glue-like coating slipping between your legs. “Ya know what this means?”

It takes you a few seconds to pronounce your gasps out through the globs of spittle watering your mouth, “Wh-what?”

“Now I hafta ngh- fill this cute cunt up again.”

But Sukuna didn’t sound sad about that fact.

No, the exact fucking opposite. He was delighted to feel the way your aroused dribble slips out in a steady waterfall at the round, stout crowns of his cocks break past your first snug ring of muscle. Pushing and pushing and pushing.

“S’that what you want, human?” He coos hoarsely from behind, so fucking big - all of him. Simply towering underneath you to manhandle you into every pliable position possible. 

One of Sukuna’s pink-tipped nipples grazes your mouth and before you know it, you find yourself sucking. Tongue sloshing out such fat wads of spit that it leaves your throat feeling oh-so-parched, “Shiiiit- Ya got e-even wetter, dirty lil’ thing. Look at how she’s droolin’ f’me.”

Drooling was an understatement. 

Your cunt was practically flooding in translucent bucketloads of silvery slick- and another hot load leaks out of you that Sukuna swipes a thumb down, popping it swiftly into his mouth. 

So caught up in the simmering heat of his skin and his saccharine taste that you don’t even realize it - anything - before Sukuna’s splitting you apart once more.

Grunting, “Oi oi- watch the goods.”

Your hand reaches out somewhere, anywhere– and ends up clawing red, red lines across his tattooed shoulders. “P-please.” You’re babbling out stupidly, head fizzing into empty cotton at the red n’ swollen cocks stuffing inside you. Deep inside. Sukuna’s overspilling divots scrape against the tender spots embedded into your walls and leaving you sobbing.

“Loud girl.” 

Splat! Your mouth crashes against his palm in a gentle cupping - and not just his palm, Sukuna’s second cursed mouth that had manifested its way expressly to make out with your kiss-bitten lips. 

Lecherous mouth parting yours to roam over n’ over into every nook and cranny, his tongue was just savoring your taste like a gummy. Your driveling sap leaving the mountain of his palm glued to your chin, Sukuna chortles, feeling the treacly splats of saliva. Hot. “Wanna hear her, m’kay, ma? Her.”

Another bulky few inches of his fattened lengths, so big that every throb leaves your body jerking helplessly. Bucking and bucking - every striking pap! just to fit inside. 

Sukuna was so inhumanly big - both of his cocks so achingly hard it’s as if they were made out of diamonds. Stacked right one on top of the other and sagging your poor cunt with the sheer weight of him. 

As if he stretches on for miiiiles before your tear-dropped gaze catches sight of those sexy black rings tattooed around Sukuna’s bases. Barely even visible underneath the frosty white syrupy of his seed sploshing at your womb. 

Every tiny slip n’ slide makes his slick lengths rub deliciously against one another, stretching you out wiiiidely. The fat spherical curves of his cockhead pull you tautly open until you’re speechless. He didn’t even need to try to leave your tummy bloated with the cylindrical bumps of his twin, swollen cocks. “Awww, look at that lil’ ngh! Bulge.”

Caressing a thickened pad of one set of fingers over where he was filling you up ridiculously, pressing down. Hard. “Kuna-”

“Hmm- say the magic word. Beg a lil’ more f’me.”

Your jittery legs are pushing back and he’s dragging you back down. It always did make him groan just how much you could take, stoppin’ you from running your pretty self away. “Please!”

Sloppily jerking until with a final, heaving rut- he’s bottoming out.

“Please- please please please–” The caps of your knees hit your tits while Sukuna splays you out sluttily, blinking down eagerly at the way your crevice gulps him till the very end. Overstuffed. “Fuck me- ngh! Fuck me, Kuna–”

“Oh- m’not just gonna fuck you, spoiled brat–” He’s biting down on his lip, feeling the way your sloppy pussy clenches in surprise once the textured edge of his second mouth once more tickles your outer folds. And you gasp–

“Whaaaat?” Sukuna drawls, dangerous. Pussydrunk- enough that you’re sure his next few sloppy syllables come out a whine. “M’hungry, ma. N’ you’re the sweetest lil’ desert.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “Sh-shut up…”

And not even Ino’s desperate tug ‘round his sweat-tinted ski mask could hide away the feverish blush cascading across his face. Growing ever-redder whilst he snaps off the last few dampened remnants of his condom.

Broken.

Your mouth waters with something hotly simmering as you take in the entire sight of his ruby-red tip, as plump n’ wet as a popsicle - and just as sweet, you’re sure. Now, Ino was big– prettily thick enough to leave your cunt throbbing, with veins for daaays decorating his length. 

Throb-throb-throbbing merely at the thought of you. 

And the only thing more irresistible than his fat, swollen cock was the boy himself in all his pussydrunken glory. 

Your tone dips with something sensual, thick whilst the words depart from your ajar maw. “Baby– show me your face.” You’re perking your hips up to his, drawing looong slippery glides down his perfectly ridged length. “C’mon, Taku–”

The tawny edges of his bangs fray out, almost curtaining his dewy, half-lidded eyes. Ino leaves a staccato of thwack! thwack! thwacks! right over the saturated slope of your pussy. Spit-dribbled lips parting with need, “Sh-shhhh. M’gonna hah- cum from jus’ that pretty voice, sweetness.”

You’re almost left speechless at the utterly vulgar slurps emanating from down under, just the crowned tip of his maddening length teasing your sloppy entrance. Your rubbery hole catches on his globe-shaped cockhead and you almost keen—

“Oh, Taku—” Your voice warbles out prettily, trilling with the type of pout you knew would make his heart race. “Wan’ you to give it t’me- don’t be shy, please, baby.”

The only indication that your poor boyfriend had heard you was the pink flush breezing all over the tip of his ears to the back of his neck. And Ino sinks the pearly white edges of his teeth into his lower lip, a thin trail of sweat beading down his temple. 

Pumping his hips in a sultry back n’ forth, the tip-top of his streaming divot spurts out the most lecherous globs of pre that drip between your slit. Down, down, down.

Greedy hands sliding underneath his mask, pulling it off- “Pl- mmpf!”

He couldn’t handle another beg from your gorgeous, gorgeous mouth. Couldn’t handle another second of you drooling from both puffy lips in need of his fat cock. 

Before you can even let out the final few syllables of your finishing blow, Ino sticks his hands into an interlacing crown on top of your sweaty scalp and pushes you down. Teasingly slow so that you’re crying out on every zig-zagging vein scratching your magical insides, the plummy ends of his base leaving your tender pussymound stinging with his chesnut happy trail. 

Pushing and pushing, every thickly bludgeoning inch leaves you slobbering. Your hazy irises running away alllll the way towards the deep, dark depths of your eyelids at the feeling of him probing. 

And when it rains– it pours. 

Just a single inch - not even halfway inside your fountaining orifice and Ino finds himself gone. Long lashes flapping, spit-slicked mouth gawking, fuck- even his poor thighs were trembling with every suckling slip you’re swallowing up.

“Oh…oh.” Comes out Ino’s labored breaths, the plumpness of his lips dragging mindlessly across your cheek. Huff! huff! huff! comes out his steaming pants, voice croaking. “Th-think I’m…in love-”

Smearing your shaky legs further apart, the circles of Ino’s eyes dart down to watch every. single. second of the way your swollen pussylips were quivering around his proud cylindrical circumference. Aroused. 

“T-Taku.” You whisper, and the man flinches. Moving in a flurry - moving all at once to shrug off his ski mask completely and watch you.

Almost as if on autopilot, the doughy tips of his digits dart down to your clit. Tender. Worshipping. Drawing the most filthy circles right over where your hooded peak was the utmost sensitive- you swear you even catch him scooping up a few wadded knots of your juicy slick and slipping them into his mouth.

The blacks of his pupils dilate once a deepening push has your snug ring of muscle resisting - his wide girth so fucking big that you’re still struggling to take him. Oh, somewhere along your sap-flooded walls, you feel his bulbous head starting pulsing. 

“Go inside.” Ino strains out - still not looking at you, still not even breathing. “Go inside go inside go- please-” His melodic baritone cracks after every rut, every massage of his toned abdomen tensing over yours. Fingers faster, yearning. “K-keep your legs held up f’me, pretty- c’mon–”

Your limbs are trembling, aching at the stinging slams he was pouncing on you. Battering away. The only thing flitting about your mind being the raw stretch and Ino’s “-pleasepleaseplease. Take it.”

And once you do - once with a good few vulgar strokes, he bottoms out - Ino thinks he’s seeing heaven. The fringes of his fingertips twitching on your sensitive nub, making you see stars. 

A fog of sweltering groans escapes him, toned chest glittering with a few specks of sweat as he heaves. As he hunches his shuddering body over and bucks–

“Sh-shiiiit, Taku–!” Your jaw drops into the prettiest lil’ oh! Hips raising a few centimeters off of your creaky bedsprings with sheer force because Ino was fucking into you rough. “It’s good- so good s-sooo—”

“Yeah? Yeah?”

Something in Ino’s voice was taking a high lilt, crazed. And your eyes shutter at the slow buzzing sensation of cursed energy leaking from his fingerpads. Possibly to stop the two of you from breaking bones.

You’re gurgling out, “You’re so pretty Taku–”

Suddenly, his round tip swabs the doorway to your womb pointedly. Swiping a generous dollop of creamy pre, and Ino’s breath catches. Feeling the heated mess he’s making inside, wanting to make more. The clingy center of his palm touches right over the middle of your tummy, pushing down. “I love you.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - STRONGEST

You knew you shouldn’t have let Gojo Satoru hear about this lil’ thing called a…mating press. You knew you shouldn’t have painted a sinful enough picture that the strongest lost his goddamn mind. 

Pretty cerulean eyes flashing with something primal before he promptly threw you over his shoulder and fucking teleported to your bedroom nearby. After that it was lights out for you– or, at least, it was hours and hours ago. 

His slightly-trimmed happy trail drenched until the snowy white’s almost turning into a faint purple, the length of his ravaged n’ raw aching cock still jackhammers away in overstimulated little rocks against your hips. 

Over and over Gojo’s reaching magical orifices you never knew possible. So biiiig that each thrust feels like an eon, dragging dragging dragging all the way from his blossomed red tip to his massively bulged hilt. Ridiculously wide.

Fat wads of knotted cum clinging onto the tender underside of his blushing shaft, he’s positively ruining you from the inside out. Stirring your goopy insides about with every maddened slam! his vicious pace, the pinpricked divot right on the middle of his globed mushroom tip stings with how hard he’s plapping into you.  

“Please- p-please–” Your eyes crinkling with adorable beads of tears that sparkle in the dim lighting- in the way Gojo’s own gaze glows with bolts of blue, blue lightning. “S’fuckin’ good, Toru—”

And not even that lil’ nickname of yours makes Gojo move- doesn’t even make him falter like he usually would. As if he was in a trance. 

Plunging and plunging the barrelling inches of his girthy length until all gusts of air whoosh from your panting lungs. He weighs his towering, sheened body over your own and presses down, thumbing away your sap-glued folds with a squelching sluuurp to help you take him all in. 

“Gotta- gotta get you-” Comes out his crackling voice, raspy. Broken enough that it’s almost a growl - he’s set off and he won’t stop. “Gotta get you- need to get you-”

“Get- get me what–” You’re gurgling out, even though you already had a fuzzy inkling about the answer. 

“Gotta get you…” He’s trailing off, mellifluous voice withering away into nothing when a hand drifts over your tummy. Where a luscious little bump was formulating, where it was growing ever-rounder n’ rounder with every splosh of buttery pre being pumped into you. Oh. 

There’s a leaden ball permanently homing itself in Gojo’s bobbing throat like he couldn’t even begin to finish his sultry sentences. Simply letting them waft over the clam-struck crook of your neck right along with spattering sprays of perspiration. 

And tears. Oh, were there tears.

Your lovely boyfriend’s pretty peripherals were just glossed over with so many countless layers of water, salted caramel tears striking your features after every whacking slap!

So wide that even your unfastened maw couldn’t open into a sweetly innocent ‘o’ as girthy as that of your slick-pouring hole. Rubbery ring stretched out soooo fucking wide that those brutal bucks made you overspill with Gojo’s soppy white cum.

Gasping. Heaving from the deepest depths of his chiseled chest, “C’mon- in- in in in—”

Struggling to fit him in with all your sappy stuffing. 

“N-noooo s’leaking…” Your whining whimpers reach his popped eardrums and make the strongest jolt, like he’d just been struck by a thousand different voltages. Blearily, his pupils escape from the backs of his heavy lids and rest - unfocused - on your fucked-out face. You pout, “-s’wasting.”

And Gojo’s eyes sliiiide sluggishly down to where your pretty pussy was leaking, drooling with an ivory fountain of seed. And then allll the way back to your hazed heart-eyes. Oh. 

You were fucked. 

It all happens in a singular bat of your tear-stuck lashes- in one nanosecond, Gojo’s soundlessly rovering his elongated fingers to scope between your dampened thighs and casting a miniature limitless. Plugging you up until those sloshing ribbons of cum were ceased right behind your geysering entrance. 

Full. 

“Now s’in-” Gojo gapes, and somewhere along the way you’re registering that his softened palm on your tummy is simmering out steam. Powerful. A scorched burn of a blush invading his handsome cheeks- “Now for her- her-” The hand toying with your pussymound slips a singular fingerpad inside to stretch you wiiiide open- “-need inside. Inside.”

Pounding and pounding, the velvety hug of your pussy was so tight that every swollen, red inch inside let off the most lecherous squelches. Your pupils swirl in stupid circles, “Inside- w-wan’ it all inside, Satoru.”

Gojo’s pace was starting to sound like rapid clapping, the smell of powerful ozone and sex clinging onto him by the time he bumps his sweat-matted forehead into yours. 

Whispering from the guttural back of his rusty throat, “You can do- you can you can d-do it, sweetheart.” It’s just about the first coherent sentence he’s let off in hours now, unable to even speak unless he wants to exert himself- or cum.

The fringe of his pasty end of his thumb sticks like adhesive against your pussy and lets himself plunge in ever-deeper. “Take it. Take it, please.” Rumbling baritone breaking. A crooked smile twists his cherry-red lips, crazed. “Gotta get you pregnant, my girl.”

It was a promise - and Gojo Satoru was a man of his word. 

A steaming cloud of moans depart from your bruised lips when Gojo circles his motioning hips back just enough- enough to angle out a direct whack to your cervix and hit it. Bottoming all out. 

The stretch was astronomical now that his tender ballsack was up n’ personal with the treacly base of your cunt, twitching the very moment a surprised bout of slick seeps through his limitless and drenches him. And you’re simply mewling at the texture of his tiny white curls tickling your clit. 

Swirlin’ the shivering tip of his shaft until he’s thoroughly massaging all your sweetest spots, mapped out. Though, the way that a ring of cursed energy circles Gojo’s sapphire irises makes you think he’s using his power without even realizing. 

Without even thinking. Without even breathing– nothing but a low mutter of “Get pregnant- get- get pregnant.” Burning fingertips smearing your legs open wider, “Need it- want it- gotta breed- fuck! Gotta get- pregnant-”

Your knees slap the mounds of your tits, back arching helplessly against your coiled mattress springs- and you swear a few were breaking through the silken sheets. Tattered. “Give it- fuck fuuuuck–”

Filthy, desperate probes. 

You didn’t know who was more gone - you or him.

He’s just so hot that he’s practically burning. Feverish all the way from the simmering sizzle of skin pressed up against your skin, and the furious tip on his massively tunneling length. Red hot. Simply melting.

Hooded eyes locked on your bulging pussylips, his swallowed-up digits give a firm sort of spank just to confirm. Just to make sure his saccharine mind wasn’t dreaming. 

“It’s in–” he breathes out, overworking heart thud-thud-thudding against your chest whilst he still failed to catch his breath. A silvery globule of spit dribbles from Gojo’s hanging maw to yours, wrenched shut by one of his firm hands so you can swallow. “-all in. All mine. Mine t-t’get you pregnant, my girl.”

And this is where the real fun was about to start.

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Rodeo Romeo!

Higuruma wasn’t just big - he was massive. 

He was thrusting the knobbled globe of his cock past your gluey, glutinous lips and watching with a slight blush as you whiiiine. Your spit slicking out in thin ribbons each n’ every time he dips his rounded mushroom tip in a deep push into your mushy depths. 

So springy, even the slightest recoil leaves you aching for more– stringing out pearly beads of slick. He’s just so plump that you can feel his dribbling orifice cushion your g-spots with repeated blows. Again and again.

Until your knuckles pull taut against the edge of his office desk– right where your husband’s laptop was open on a partly-muted work call only mere inches away.

It’d taken about an hour - an hour of cockwarming and teasing and driving the stoic man wild until he’d crushed that button to turn the camera off and immediately plugged you stupidly full. Just like you’d wanted.

“Ya got it, angel.” Higuruma lets off gruff whispers against one of your ears, snickering to himself at the way his scorched hot breaths make your skin erupt in goosebumps. The wiry frames of his work glasses press up against your tender throat- frigid plastic steaming cold. “S’good, hm?”

So intimate - even though your buzzing eardrums could make out the noises of his colleagues chatting so closely. So lecherously. 

“S-s’good–” you breathe, squirming at the way his fattened balls meeting your plump folds in a loving kiss hello. You lurch at the slight wet plop! of his battering cock sinking even deeper inside of you. “So good, Hiromi.”

His fatly padded thumb draws sensual circles where your hips are hitting at a stinging pace, “Yeahhh? Why don’tcha r-ride it then, sugar?” 

Oh, your weakened knees are on the very verge of collapsing simply at the thought. Thighs shaking lewdly as your body moves before your hazed mind, a clingy film of tears glossing over your eyes once your ass settles on Higuruma’s manspread lap and pushes–

“H-hck! Hiromi–!” You hiccup- shit. Hands flying up to your leaky mouth to firmly slam it shut- your eyes roll to the back of your head at the warm splatters of drool that seep into your doughy palm.

“S’okay- s’okaaaay–” Higuruma croons from behind, the forefront of his abs tensing sexily as he’s bucking off the chair from behind to meet your sloppy cadence. Long n’ swollen cock prying your sticky walls apart until any and every thought of the work meeting flits from your mind. 

He’s probin’ his most prominent vein up against your bulging g-spot, hips angling to massage in exactly how you loved it. How you loved this biiig stretch. “No one’s gonna know.”

Your tear-stained head raises blearily up at him, “Wh-what?”

“No one’s gonna ngh- know, angel.” Nodding his head towards where the call was muted and had the camera off. You’re arched so perfectly on his thick, muscled thighs that Higuruma can’t help but jerk his knees in a slight bounce. 

There’s a rickety creeeak! of his seat as he’s lifting up your ass so that he can take a loooong, proud look. “Oh, look how wet she is.” Pinkish tongue gliding along his lower lip at the sight, “Ride it-” Pausing for just a second to slap the spherical pads of his fingers on your asscheek, “-ride it like it’s y-yours, sugar.”

And you couldn’t stay silent even if you wanted to. 

The sharply spanking slam of your hips back into his was just so sinful, fleshy mounds of your ass jiggling with each impact after impact. Repeatedly. Higuruma’s tufted hair scratches the tender outer edges of your pussy and makes you shrill.

“P-please-” You sound as if you’re on the edge, face burying into your hands- only for them to be ripped away by your husband.

Pecking his soft lips near the edges of your slobbery maw, darting his tongue out to liiiick sultry flops of his tastebuds across your streaky tears. His plump lips suckle ‘round your candied tongue, “Theeeere she is, good girl- good girl. Faster.”

Hands grappling for the table- the blank documents he really should’ve been working on. Your head throws back with a breaking mewl, “Fuck- fuuuuck–”

“Faster now- atta girl.” Brazen dollops of pre trickle down, down, doooown your dewy walls and out from your silvery slit. Higuruma’s thighs twitch with the boiling hot splatters of it hitting his papping limbs– harsh. 

“Ride it- ride this biiiig fuckin’ cock now.”

Harsher and harsher, his cherry-red leaking tip is just probing upwards against your cadence. With a squeeze of your gushing insides that makes him groan, it takes Higuruma a good few seconds to realize that his name is being called from what seems like eons away.

Before you can think - before you can even breathe - his ringed finger comes barreling between your pouring lips. “Shhhh, suck on it.” He gruffs out. Curling that cold wedding back right into the sensitive back of your throat– Higuruma unmutes. 

Something about contracts, something about business that still can’t distract him from how well you were milking every solid inch of him.

And with one hit - two - you’re not just drooling all ‘round his fattened, split-end length- you’re cumming. Sparks of white-hot flashing behind your eyes and making syrupy globules of spittle drip down to his pale wrist. Your body gives a sudden rut- and oh, Higuruma just about loses his mind.

Voice cracking mid-sentence, nostrils flaring, his darkened eyes widen at the realization that you were reaching your highest point already. 

“H-Hiro…” Your barely-audible mewls make Higuruma’s nails claw into the plush of your pretty, pretty thighs. Slamming ‘exit’ on his call as rapidly as humanly possible–

With a wet splosh tuning from between your slapping thighs, your husband’s shoving you into the biting mahogany of his desk and pumping you full of such thick, wadded droplets of cum. Loooong, long ribbons that splash all the way from the buttery puddle on your cervix to where your pussylips were overspilling.

Torrents. He was cumming more than usual, too– gruff tone ripping out of him rawly, “Th-think–” So mean with his cock, you’re ending up reaching your own orgasm probably a few more times at the way he was drilling into you like a beast. “Fuck- fuck, I c-can’t think.”

Sinking himself all balls-deep, you were positively fit to burst. His rugged pace carving out a special lil’ bruise where your spongy pussy ended. Your tummy flutters incredibly with both butterflies and the treacly sap of his cum drip-drip-driiiiping out of you. 

Unbuttoned shirt tracing your sweat-dripped spine, chiseled abs glissading down your skin, his fogged-up glasses were all but toppling off of his flushed cheeks. 

Steamy, flattened tone licking a looong strip from your shoulder to your sagged mouth, Higuruma haphazardly tosses one of his muscular legs on the desk and bucks his ripped front– “M’next assignment’s g-getting this pussy bred, angel.”

A/N. Y’all I think ovulation’s near- ANYWAYS, I hope you have a lovely week <33

Plagiarism not authorized.

[jj-one]

EPISODE 1: HELP! MY HOT GIRLFRIEND CAUGHT ME CRYING AFTER GIVING HEAD! (NOT CLICKBAIT)

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

jisung thought tutoring the hottest girl on campus would ruin his GPA— not his pants. one month later, he’s somehow getting called ‘pretty’ mid-thrust and offering you pocky as a post-orgasm snack.

pairing: nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader, established relationship genre/tags: college au, smut, fluff, jisung is a loser with a capital L, humor sprinkled in bc i’m unserious asf, lots of references to anime and other dumb stuff, lowkey perv!jisung, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), piv, protected s*x, kinda subby!jisung but he’s still a whore lol words: 5.4k (wasn’t expecting it to be this long… guess i yap too much)

[ note. ] — i had to make another nerd!ji fic bc i literally cannot stop thinking about him 😣 feel free to read my other fic for more context since it’s set in the same universe but i wanted to make a smut ver so here we areeee <33 also, i will be making more parts eventually, hence why it’s labeled as ‘episode 1’ so stay tuned for more !

Jisung thought for sure that was going to die a virgin. Not in a sad, self-loathing kind of way, but more in a “yeah, that checks out,” kind of way. The type of peaceful resignation one might have while unplugging a broken router for the eighth time before crying into a bowl of instant ramen. Because guys like him— guys who quoted Dragon Ball Z unironically, who panicked when girls sat next to them in lecture halls, who built custom keyboards for fun and screamed at League. They didn’t date girls like you.

And they most definitely didn’t sleep with girls like you.

Still, that didn’t keep him from fantasizing. Constantly, shamelessly, unhingedly.

He’d never known what it felt like to have warm walls wrapped around his cock. Never heard those broken whines girls in hentai would make— unless he counted the ones he accidentally let out when he edged himself too long. His hand was simply never enough, no matter how many times he convinced himself he could “recreate the pressure.”

The bottle of lotion and box of tissues on his nightstand weren’t even hidden anymore— they sat like holy relics beside his gaming PC, ready for immediate access the second he closed League and opened incognito mode.

Porn never fully satisfied his craving though, he always wanted more. Even the best JAV compilation or doujinshi fan dub couldn’t compare to the real sickness consuming his brain: you.

You, with the glossy Instagram that he scrolled through like it was the damn Louvre. You, wearing micro bikinis in pool selfies with captions like ‘hot girl summer’ while he rots in bed, sweating and crying at the curvature of your ass.

You, biting your glittery, gel pen in class, leaning across the desk to ask for help, accidentally flashing a glimpse of cleavage so dangerous it made him pause mid-equation like he got hit with a stun grenade. Stalking your Instagram, seeing you in the tiniest baby tees and mini skirts. It was the perfect gooner material.

He’d stroke himself under the covers while biting a t-shirt to keep quiet, muttering your name between gasps like he was summoning a spirit. Fantasies playing out in his head that ranged from soft and romantic— like kissing you breathless during office hours— to completely feral, like bending you over his anime pillow while you called him “pretty boy” and ruined his life.

It didn’t help that you flirted with him now.

That you asked him to tutor you.

That you sat so close during study sessions he could sense your perfume from a mile away and taste the salt from the fries you always stole off his plate.

You laughed at his jokes, called him cute, even once said he had “nice hands,” and he nearly evaporated on the spot. Had to excuse himself to the bathroom with a boner and a prayer.

Every night ended the same. Him, fisting his cock in pathetic desperation at the thought of your pussy swallowing him whole, whispering ‘please’ like a man on the verge of religious enlightenment.

And every night, after he came all over his own stomach, out of breath and guilt-ridden, he’d sigh dramatically and say,

“I’m going to die alone. I know it. I’ll be the guy with the Zero Two body pillow and the unopened condom pack from 2017 that he keeps in case of a miracle.”

He did not, under any circumstances, expect you to be that miracle.

Never in a million years did he think he’d actually have a chance, let alone be dating you. You were just too perfect. The literal girl of his dreams.

Popular. Gorgeous. Cool in the kind of way that made any and everyone want to be around you without knowing why. You had that magnetic charm about you, an easily contagious laugh, a confident stride when you walk, and that dangerous habit of licking your lip gloss mid-sentence like you were in a CW drama.

And yet, somehow, here he was, currently horizontal on his bed, shirtless, breathless, with you on top of him wearing his oversized Bleach t-shirt and not much else, grinning like you’d just won first place in a science fair and a dance battle.

“Are you glitching?” You asked, poking his cheek. “Do I need to unplug you and plug you back in?”

“I- uh- w-what? No- yes? No.” He stuttered like every word had just magically left his vocabulary, he was definitely malfunctioning.

You laughed, head dropping onto his bare chest as he laid stiff as a board, arms hovering midair like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you even now. Even after dating you for a whole month.

“A month,” he whispered, still stunned by the timeline. “That’s like… thirty days of you voluntarily being seen with me.”

“Thirty one,” you corrected, lifting your head to smirk down at him. “Don’t forget the bonus day where you kissed me in front of the vending machine and the entire basketball team clapped.”

“I thought I was going to throw up.”

“You looked like you did throw up.”

Jisung covered his face with both hands and groaned.

God, he still didn’t know how this happened. When you had asked him to tutor you in stats, he assumed you were just kidding— or high. But you weren’t. You’d actually shown up. You’d flirted, sat on his lap one time when all the seats were taken at the library, and then acted like it was no big deal while his soul left his body.

And now here you were. Straddling him. Teasing him. Literally wearing his t-shirt with the anime print on it and calling him “baby” in the kind of voice that should be illegal.

“You’re so tense, Sungie,” you murmur, lightly dragging your fingers down his chest. “I know you like it when I touch you. You make these cute little gasps like a baby bird.”

“I-I don’t sound like a baby bird,” he mumbled, absolutely sounding like a baby bird.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Chirp.”

Jisung squeaked.

You lost it, giggling into his neck while he covered his blushy face with a pillow. “Oh my god, stopp- why are you like this- why did you choose me,”

“Because you’re smart, and sweet, and you get all flustered when I call you hot. And because,” you sat up again, hips rolling ever so slightly and watching his pupils blow wide as you rocked against his clothed erect, “you say things like ‘This is just like my fanfic’ under your breath and then deny it.”

He groaned at the sudden friction, arms falling limp at his sides. “You heard that?”

“Babe, I hear everything. Like right now, I can hear how bad you want me to ride you.” You bit your lip, feeling your wetness growing at a rapid pace as you continuously grind on him.

Jisung whimpered. “Okay. I- this is really happening, right? This isn’t like, some kind of VR dream or like a… cursed hentai plotline where I wake up and you’re actually a sentient toaster?”

You blinked. “What the hell kind of anime are you watching?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Nevermind, pretend I didn’t say that..”

You kissed him then. Slowly. Tenderly. Like you had all the time in the world and like you couldn’t believe your luck either. Because yeah, you were the cool girl, but Jisung was the first guy who actually listened when you talked. Who remembered your favorite boba order. Who’d stayed up until 3 am tutoring you and still walked you to your dorm with sleepy, nerdy affection twinkling in his eyes.

So yeah, you were gonna roast him forever— but you were also gonna ruin him tonight.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, reaching down to tug his sweatpants lower.

Jisung was in the midst of catching his breath like he’d just run a marathon. “Y-yeah?”

“After I make you cum, will you tell me all about the sentient toaster anime?”

“…Maybe.”

+

“Okay,” Jisung panted, curling into your side like a baby koala clinging to its mother, “that was better than every hentai I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted into his shoulder. “High praise coming from the man who owns a $300 body pillow.”

“She was limited edition!” He quickly defends himself.

You playfully roll your eyes, kissing his flushed cheek. “So are you, Sungie. So are you.”

And yeah, Jisung still thought he was going to die a virgin once upon a time.

But now, wrapped in your arms with kiss marks littering his neck and your laughter still echoing in his ears— he was just really, really glad that he’s been proven wrong.

+

The moment you straddled Jisung and kissed him again, something shifted in the room.

And not just him having an outer-body experience for the sixth time in an hour.

You pulled back from his lips to look around, and the first thing you said was, “Okay, I have to say it- your room is the most aggressively virgin-coded space I’ve ever been in.”

“I told you not to look too closely!” He whined, burying his face into your neck as you giggled and craned to inspect the chaos surrounding you.

“Let’s see…” you started ticking things off on your imaginary list. “Anime wall scrolls? Check. Neon RGB light strips that make your room look like a gaming dungeon? Check. Is that Hatsune Miku in a glass case next to middle school spelling bee trophies?”

He groaned. “They’re collector’s items—”

“You were runner-up in 8th grade and you framed it.”

“I peaked early, okay?!”

You laughed so hard you fell forward onto his chest. “I love you.”

He froze. “Wh-what?”

You blinked. “I said I love you.”

He looked like you’d just offered him a lifetime supply of ramen and also stabbed him in the heart.

“…I love you too,” he whispered, barely getting it out before he hid under the covers.

You tugged the blanket back down just enough to see his red face. “Hey. Don’t hide. I wanna see you. Look so pretty when you blush.”

“PRETTY?!” He yelped.

You nodded in confirmation, brushing hair off his forehead. “Mmhm. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Especially like this- messy hair, pink cheeks, all breathless under me…”

He made the most broken noise you’d ever heard.

His hands gripped your hips like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying not to crush you or himself with how desperate he felt. His eyes were dark now, glazed and locked onto your every move as you slowly ground against the bulge in his sweats.

“This is real, right?” He meant to ask that in his head but blurted it out instead, voice slightly cracking. “This is really happening?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Feels pretty real to me, baby.”

At this point Jisung was spiraling.

Not just emotionally. No, that happened daily.

This was a full-system shutdown.

You’d tugged your shirt off without warning and smiled down at him like it was the most casual thing in the world, and now his hands were hovering awkwardly mid-air like he wasn’t sure if he had permission to touch you or if he was being Punk’d by the gods of horny delusion.

Your skin. Your smile. Your fucking tits.

And worse— worse— as your fingers brushed through his messy brown locks and your thighs shifted over his hips, his brain suddenly screamed,

‘I can’t believe I’m about to get pussy before Jeongin.’

Jeongin, his slightly cooler, slightly taller, still-a-virgin roommate who had three rotating Discord kittens and a suspicious amount of cologne but somehow still never scored.

Jeongin, who walked around shirtless after push-up sessions and said things like “it’s not rizz, it’s charisma” unironically. Jeongin, who once said “I want my first time to be passionate and respectful” but also accidentally downloaded a virus trying to pirate a hentai dating sim.

Jisung had always assumed if one of them was gonna make it out of virginhood first, it’d be the guy with the Uzumaki clan symbol tattooed on his ribs and a social life.

But no.

It was him. Han Jisung. The guy who owned a limited-edition anime titty mousepad and squeaked like a kettle when a girl touched his arm. And now? You were grinding up against him slowly, teasingly, and he was barely clinging to reality.

“Y/n,” he whimpered, clutching your waist like you’d float away. “Can I- can I eat you out? Pleasepleaseplease.”

You blinked rapidly.

“…You wanna—?”

“So bad,” he choked. “I think about it all the time. Like in class. And when I watch those ‘how to’ videos online. Like, the diagram ones, not the porn ones, though I watched those too- but like educationally! For science!”

You stared blankly.

He was sweating.

“Okay,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re really cute when you beg, y’know that?”

He nearly ascended.

You barely had time to giggle before he flipped you gently onto your back, hair falling into his eyes as he ducked down between your thighs like a man on a mission from God. His hands trembled as he slid your shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of your soaked panties.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. “It’s real.”

You snorted. “What were you expecting? A hologram?”

“I don’t know!” He cried. “I was starting to believe you were some kind of high-level succubus sent to punish virgins.”

You cupped his flushed face. “Wouldn’t be the worst punishment.”

And then he locks in— eyes meeting yours as he sticks his tongue out, licking a long, fat stripe across your clothed slit. Soft. Slow. As if he was trying to memorize you with his tongue, the heat of it makes you jolt. He’s not just tasting you— he’s learning you, tracing intricate patterns with his tongue like he’s trying to decode you one flick at a time. Every motion is precise yet hungry, like he’s writing a love letter in Morse code directly to your pussy. His glasses slipping adorably down the bridge of his nose, solely focused on pleasing you.

You gasped at the feel of him against you, the pressure of his mouth sent heat curling low in your belly, it was torture. Too much and not enough. You needed to feel him without the barrier of soaked lace clinging to your folds, and he must’ve read your mind, because he groaned like he was the one being denied. He kissed your pussy like he was thanking it, mouthing over your clothed core before dragging open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, leaving your skin slick with spit and bites to your inner thighs. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, everything about him felt so warm.

His teeth grazed you— playful, hungry— and your hips twitched as he whispered something nasty under his breath, half to himself, half to your cunt. By the time he slid your panties down, your thighs were trembling, tossing the flimsy fabric aside carelessly, like he didn’t care where they landed, only that they were gone. Then he buried his face between your legs like you’d been starving him for his entire life.

His tongue slipped between your folds, hot and greedy, lapping up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He flicked up and down with obscene precision, wet, messy, relentless— his nose bumping your clit as he moaned deep in his throat, like he needed this, like the taste of you could make or break him. You were soaked, legs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, and all he did was keep eating like he was trying to crawl inside you with his tongue.

You were loving the way it feels, every bit of you being hit with electricity. Your fingers tangled in his hair the second his mouth met your pussy, gripping tight, yanking just enough to make him groan into you like he was grateful for the pain. He never slowed down. If anything, it made him hungrier, tongue flattening against your slit before flicking up again, sloppy and fast and fucking filthy.

“God- fuck, you’re so messy,” you gasped, thighs twitching around his head. “You like that? Being my dirty little mouth toy?”

He moaned. Moaned. Into your pussy.

Nodding obediently, even as you tugged harder, grinding him closer. His glasses were long gone, hair disheveled, chin dripping with spit and slick as he slurred out something unintelligible against your clit. His tongue working overtime like he was trying to spell your name in cursive with every flick.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, words caught in his throat. “I could live here.”

You threw your head back with a laugh— and then a sharp gasp as he got bolder, messier, more desperate. His hands kept you spread, his tongue curling and licking and worshipping like this was the only chance he’d ever get. He was sure that he’d jizz his pants just from giving you head— sure it’s pathetic, maybe even tragic. But he couldn’t help it. You were just too hot, too perfect, too fucking unreal, and the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your thighs squeezing around his head, it was better than anything his fist or filthy imagination had ever given him.

Your fingers remain tangled in his hair, holding onto him for anchorage. He looked up at you with glassy, pleading eyes, the lower half of his face glistening with your arousal and rosy cheeks. “Tell me I’m doing okay? Please? I read five articles about this. I practiced on a peach.”

You gasped. “You practiced on what?!”

“Nevermind. Just- keep calling me pretty. I swear I’ll die happy right here.”

You tugged his head back down, voice ragged and ruined.

“Then make me cum, pretty boy.”

And he did.

Like a man with something to prove.

Like a nerdy little virgin who had just found his true calling.

Your eyes closed shut at the feeling, falling apart at the seams. Every stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. You suddenly couldn’t remember how breathing worked, all you saw were flashes of white invading your vision, cumming so hard that you almost saw stars. You cried out, high and broken, hands grasping at his head as you came hard against his mouth.

Jisung moaned through it— loud and messy— tongue never letting up, licking you through every twitch, every gasp, every last jolt of overstimulation until you were tugging at his hair for dear life and gasping for air. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes half-lidded, face absolutely drenched, and smiling like he just beat the final boss of his entire life.

Somewhere in the past twenty minutes between Jisung nuzzling your thighs like a man starved and moaning like he was the one cumming, you had apparently blacked out, transcended the mortal plane, and been reborn as a puddle of girl.

Now, you lay sprawled across his unmade bed, fully clothed from the waist up and violently ruined from the waist down, chest heaving, eyes wet and glassy, one sock half-off your foot like a casualty of war.

And Jisung?

Jisung was cuddled up beside you like the world’s horniest golden retriever, chin resting on your shoulder, looking so smug and soft it was almost offensive.

You could still feel the ghost of his tongue between your legs.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” You croaked out, blinking up at the ceiling like it had answers.

Jisung tilted his head innocently. “What, that? Nah. I just… researched. A lot. And I… uh, practiced on a fruit.”

You turned your head slowly. “Was it the peach again?”

“…It might’ve also been a mango. For tongue agility. But I named it after you, so it was romantic!”

You tried to snort, but it came out as a wheeze. “I can’t feel my legs, Jisung.”

He beamed. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it as one.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead like he hadn’t just destroyed your entire nervous system with his mouth.

“I feel like I just unlocked a secret side quest,” he victoriously cheered. “‘Satisfy hot girlfriend until she sees God.’ Bonus XP for oral stamina. Am I your favorite now?”

You blinked at him, still fighting for air. “I don’t even know my name right now. You’ve ruined me.”

Jisung squeaked and tucked his face into your neck, practically vibrating with joy. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You should. I saw the afterlife. It was just a video game buffering screen.”

He laughed, then rolled onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe this is real. You’re real. Your thighs are real. I had a girlfriend and head privileges all in the same night. I feel like I need to call my mom.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late. She deserves to know her son peaked.”

You smacked him lightly with the nearest pillow, still grasping for air, still dazed.

And then he smiled at you— so big, so genuine, so sickeningly in love that your tired heart clenched.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, y’know,” he mumbled, brushing hair from your face. “Just say the word.”

You looked at him, the boy with anime figures on his shelf, lotion still on his desk, and love in his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I’m returning the favor.”

Mindlessly reaching into his sweats, the second your hand wrapped around his length, you froze.

“…Jisung.”

“H-huh?”

You gave a blank expression. Looking down. Looking back up.

“This is- you’re.. how is this even—?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he cried. “IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE, I’M ONLY 5’7!”

You stared at him like he just told you he had a second life as a Marvel superhero.

“Oh my god, I just assumed you’d be, like—”

“Average?!” He gasped, scandalized.

“No! I just- I mean- look at you! You’re this cute little nerd with anime socks and a keyboard with cat ears.. how are you packing all this?!”

You were in utter disbelief, there’s no way your sweet, stammering little boyfriend had been walking around with a dick that big and had no idea what kind of weapon he was carrying. Just raw, untapped dick potential— XL stats on a man who still apologizes when his knees crack too loud. Poor baby had been lugging around a whole third leg, and didn’t even know the first thing to do with it ;(

He simply shook his head, fully tomato red now, flailing beneath you like he was about to spontaneously combust. He watched you like he was afraid to blink. You pumped him once, slowly, watching him shiver under your touch. His lips parted. His back arched. You hadn’t even gotten started and he already looked completely ruined.

“Can I ride you?” You asked sweetly.

He nodded so fast his head could nearly fell off. “Yes. Yes, oh my god, yes- please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“I’ll uninstall League right now if you ask me to—”

You giggled as you rolled the condom down over him, letting his hands greedily grab at your thighs. He was panting, forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat, like his brain was overheating just from the anticipation.

Then you finally lowered yourself, sinking down onto him, gradually, feeling the way you take him so easily from being soaking wet. Jisung mumbles something illegible under his breath as your cunt swallows his cock whole. It didn’t take long for you to reach the end of him since you were already so ready for him, staying in the same position to feel all of him inside you. His cock was splitting you open so nicely, it felt like you were in utter paradise.

And he made the sound.

Like his soul physically left his body, floated into the air, and gave you a salute on the way out.

“F-fuck.. you’re tight, I can’t—” he clutched your waist, eyes fluttering. “I’m gonna die. This is it. This is how I go.” He desperately bucks into you, wanting to feel more movement from you.

You move your hips to match his rhythm as you gain your balance, pressing both hands on his shoulder blades. You bounce slightly up and down on his cock, feeling your walls being filled up by every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him real slow to picking up your pace indefinitely. Jisung threw his head back against the pillow from the pleasure, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass with the combination of it jiggling as you rode him like a bunny was enough to make him want to burst on the spot.

You leaned down and give him a chaste kiss. “Best way to go, huh?”

He nods vehemently. “Please don’t stop. Ever. I’ll cancel my Crunchyroll subscription for you. I’ll stop buying figurines. I’ll even delete my Genshin account.”

“Okay, now you’re being dramatic.”

He groaned helplessly as you continuously rode him like your life depended on it, breath hitching with every drag of your hips. He was so sensitive, so overwhelmed with it all that he couldn’t stop moaning into your mouth, mumbling broken, incoherent things like, “You feel soso good,” and “I can’t believe I get to have this,” and “Am I still breathing? No? Cool.”

You kissed down his jaw, showing no signs of stopping. You knew this was going to be one of those moments you’d both play on loop in your heads for a long, long time. “Still pretty, baby.”

He pants out. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You simply keep moaning as you kept bouncing on his cock, he was thrusting back into you, going even deeper. Your eyes reaching the back of your skull from the way he was hitting all the right spots. It wouldn’t take long before you started screaming his name and showering him with endless compliments.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Ji.” You were a broken record at this point, nothing but your whines and his grunts filling the room. You felt tense, your clit was throbbing, the pressure build up making you dizzy. Jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off you for a second, the way your tits bounced through your shirt, the way your long acrylics dug into his skin, he wasn’t even sure how he was still alive.

This was better than any of those fake scenarios that he’d absentmindedly create in his head, better than finally beating a level that he’d get stuck on for hours. He was in pure heaven, and he felt his high approaching any minute.

“I-I think ’m gonna cum,” he desperately choked out, rocking into you like a dog in heat.

Jisung was wrecked beneath you. Hands fisting into the sheets, mouth agape, his eyes rolling back every time you sank down fully and clenched around him.

“Fuck, please- please, I-I can’t,” he whimpered, voice shaky, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. His stomach tightening with every motion, trying so hard not to lose it.

You leaned forward and cupped his face, riding him a little harder, the slap of skin soft but steady. “You said you could take it, baby,” you whispered, voice syrup-sweet. “You begged for this.”

“I know, I- just- pleaseplease can I cum?” he panted, nearly on the verge of tears. His voice was raw, wrecked, like every second you didn’t let him was a cruel punishment. “’m so close, I’m- I’ll be good, I swear, just let me.. please—”

You seal his lips with yours, just to quiet the begging, grinning against his mouth as his hands fumbled for your hips again. He moaned into the kiss, his hips twitching helplessly under yours.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you beg,” you airly chuckled, pulling back just enough to look down at him. His eyes were wild, glazed over, the pretty sounds he made were like music to your ears.

“Th-thank you,” he sobbed, the gratitude in his voice borderline ridiculous. “’m gonna- I’m- oh my god—”

And with that, he finally let go. Releasing every last drop of his seed into the condom, muscles tensing up, gripping you like you were his only tether to reality. He looked down to see your arousal creating a white, creamy ring around the base of his thick cock, almost about to cum again just from the mere sight alone. Your legs felt like jello, you were weightless, collapsing onto his sweaty, sticky chest as you try to catch your breath, brain all foggy in your post-coital daze.

You didn’t expect him to cry.

Okay— not, like, full sobbing. But a little misty-eyed? A little “what did I do to deserve this?” A sparkle in his gaze as you lay draped across his chest, both of you blissed out and glowing in the soft, RGB-lit afterglow?

Yeah.

He was trying so hard not to sniffle.

“You okay, baby?” You murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his jaw.

Jisung nodded, eyes wide and glassy. “I just… I thought my first time would be like, awkward. Or disappointing. Or I’d accidentally sneeze into someone’s mouth and get banned from touching boobs forever.”

You laughed against his skin. “Definitely didn’t happen.”

“No,” he grins, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “this was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined in my head. Better than my first SSR pull in Genshin. Better than when I tried the seasonal spicy chicken ramen and lived.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “That’s a pretty long list of victories to beat.”

“You’re the only victory that matters.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned playfully, “who is this smooth man and what has he done with my sweaty, anime-obsessed virgin boyfriend?”

He huffed, burying his face into your hair. “He’s still sweaty and obsessed with anime. He just… also happens to be madly in love with you.”

You smiled into his chest.

“Also,” he added, completely deadpan, “I think I saw the shadow realm.”

You snorted. “When?”

“When you said I was pretty and grabbed my—” His voice cracked. He covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I can’t say it. My ancestors are watching.”

You giggled, shifting to lay next to him and intertwining your fingers with his.

And for a while, it was just quiet. Safe. His hand slowly brushing over your side. Your heartbeat syncing with his. The faint whir of his PC fan still spinning in the corner because, of course, he never actually shut it down.

Then he jolted upright suddenly, as if he remembered something urgent.

“Wait.”

You blinked up at him, amused. “What?”

He slid off the bed, naked except for one, singular sock and scurried to his cluttered desk. You watched, dazed and curious, as he fumbled with drawers and cracked open a cabinet that definitely shouldn’t have had food in it.

Finally, he turned around triumphantly. Holding out a white, rectangular box.

“Pocky.”

You stared. “…Seriously?”

“I always imagined I’d give my girlfriend Pocky after her first time with me,” he said solemnly. “Like a weird little anime reward.”

You sat up and grinned. “You are a weird little anime reward.”

He climbed back into bed beside you and opened the box, pulling out one, white chocolate-dipped stick and offering it with both hands like it was a sacred gift.

You bit it gently from his fingers.

“Mmm. You’re such a good boy,” you purred with a playful smile, “giving me snacks after ruining me.”

He short-circuited. Almost choking on his own Pocky. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I hope so.”

You kissed his cheek, then his nose, and then— just to mess with him— you whispered, “Still thinking about how big you are, by the way.”

Jisung made a noise so high-pitched it could only be heard by dogs. He flopped face down into the sheets, flailing helplessly while you laughed and straddled his back.

“You have to stop saying things like that,” he muffled into the pillow.

“Why?” You asked sweetly, brushing his hair back. “You’re my pretty boy. I’m just appreciating what’s mine.”

He peeked up at you, still pink, still glowing.

“…Promise you’re mine too?”

You leaned down and pressed your lips against his, soft and slow.

“Always.”

[madamechrissy]

Just Friends!?

-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-

Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and popular F! reader

Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.

Warnings - Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- this chap - explicit sexual content, lots of tension, oral (f recieving) grinding, spitting, teasing, fingering- lots of feelings, reader gets a little insecure, fluffier than the others but still some angst and mutual pining, lots of feelings - Tag list closed

Based HEAVILY on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of my amazingg moot @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! 🌙

<<<Part Three - Masterlist - Playlist - Part Five>>>

Part Four

“Show me?” You whisper, breath just an inch from his lips, as he stares at you behind that thick prescription, tilting his head, studying you.

“What I wanted to do, what I ran from.” You give him the smallest nod and he slams his lips on yours then.

And that's when everything tilts on its axis for Satoru Gojo, where he realizes that the gaping hole he was missing was filled by you. The way your lips feel are indescribable, tingling his own, filling him with such longing it throws him right back to high school, right back to being hopelessly in love with a girl he felt he never had a chance with.

You gasp and pull back, eyes looking up to his, feeling his long fingers brush back your hair now, his exhale heavy, sweet breath washing across your face. “You wanted to kiss me?” Your soft question, so sweet when he doesn't deserve it, makes his body tremble.

Fuck he's nervous, him!?

He couldn't tell you how many women have woken up in his bed, how many have been on their knees pleasing him, how many photoshoots ended in him fucking his fellow model or even photographer somewhere on set. He'd never felt whatever this was, the need so tangible it takes everything to hold back and just kiss you, to form a fucking word.

“Yes, that was what I wanted to do. My first kiss… I wanted it to be with you.” His own voice, always so cocky and self sure, breaks, he curses himself, he's trying to be who he was, but who he was…

Wasn't enough.

Your glittery eyes dance as you touch the hand still on your cheek, leaning forward now, top slipping off your shoulder to show just a bit of your smooth, tantalizing skin. “Then let's have it, your first kiss.”

Fuck.

Satoru yanks you against him now, deepening the kiss, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips, earning them parting for his hungry invasion, dripping as it slips inside, and your hands grip his soft knit sweater, crying out. Satoru moans, yanking you on his lap, and then you're pressed against him, your heat already burning him through the thick layers of your clothes.

“Satoru…” The way you say his name makes him hungrier, slipping his hand under your shirt now, touching your bare skin and eliciting a shiver up your spine, as you feel him already pressing against you. His hand entangled in your hair as he eases back for a moment, his other pressing on your ribcage, blue eyes behind fogged up glasses as your breaths intermingle faster and faster.

“God I couldn't have imagined it,” he whispers, as you giggle a bit, taking off his glasses. “Practiced so much and still breathless.”

“You're being sweet. It scares me a little.” You admit, setting his glasses aside so you can study him, as he snaps out his retainer quickly, earning another giggle. “The man I talked to yesterday would never get a kiss from me.”

“But nerd Gojo would?” He smirks a bit, brushing your hair back, and you lean forward, cupping his face now.

“He never tried.” There is so much lingering in the air from the two of you, torn between desire, and the fear of what happens next.

“He was intimidated by how fucking perfect you were.” You laugh without humor then, shaking your head. “You were. You are.”

“Samantha is perfect, I'm a girl back home with her parents, in sweats and I need to wash my damn hair but I've been too cold to. Okay? I'm a normal girl in her hometown. You're the star here…” you look down shyly, making him swallow nervously, before glaring.

“You downing yourself right now? Do you not remember who you are?” You ease back, but he doesn't let you go far, a hand sliding up your bare skin, thumb brushing under the swell of your breast, igniting more inside you.

“I'm a teacher in a small town. You're a star.” He shakes his head now, but you smile sadly. “I want more than a kiss, but I also… don't just do this. If you leave and never talk to me again. I won't get over it,” Your tears fall against your cheeks, stabbing him in the chest then. “I never got over losing my best friend.”

“I'm so sorry,” his own words break, his tears falling now, and you're both shaking with emotions, as his thumb runs soothing yet enticing circles on your skin. “I should have never thrown you in with them.”

“No. You shouldn't have. But I lost you once and got through it, if I lose you again, I… can only handle so much lately okay?” He pauses his movements, nodding then, realizing God you've been through it.

He wasn't there.

Partying, drugs, liquor, women, money.

As his best friend - the girl he still loves - dealt with tragedy, her life shifted, and he wasn't there. The guilt eats away at him as you swipe his tears. Sniffling, you press another kiss on his lips.

“I'm not asking you to uproot your life. Just to not leave me so far behind again.”

He whispers your name, but you're shutting him off with more kisses, grinding now and making him moan, as he wraps his arms around your body, tongue devouring every inch as he tastes your mouth, your tongue, your teeth, tracing along every ridge like he can’t get enough. And oh, he can’t. He’s got his glasses back on his face so he can see you, when he lifts you like you’re nothing.

You’re under him on his bed in moments, he can do nothing but just look down at you, at how beautiful you are, the dream of you in his bed, something he couldn’t begin to describe, and he needs to see this. Your lips are parted, swollen from his kisses, looking so perfect he hardly holds back, it’s as if you’re some dream come to life suddenly.

A dream he forgot, but that never left.

One he’s terrified to let slip through his fingers. “Is this okay?” He asks softly, surprising you then, with the reputation you’ve heard of, you didn’t expect him to ask, especially so sweet, hand slipping down your breasts over your shirt, just making you even wetter against your panties.

“Yes.” Is your soft answer, earning his soft whimper when your thighs brush his hard cock for just a moment.

“Need to see you, fuck… please?” You nod shyly, and he does just that, hooking his fingers under the band of your sweats, eyes widening then as he sees them.

“Oh my god, Sailor Mars panties?” Satoru watches as you cover your face, so adorable he can’t take it, eyeing the wet spot in the white panties decorated with Sailor Mars all over. His cock throbs against his pants, against his mattress, as he continues to slip your sweats down your thighs.

“I am still a nerd, I didn’t get cool like you.” You tease softly, and Satoru shakes his head, pulling your hands off your face then.

“You’re still you, after all these years,” he shakes his head in wonder, brushing errant strands off your face then, sighing. “I love that you’re still you.”

“Yeah, are they really doing it for you? Probably used to like hundred dollar panties…” Satoru grips your chin as you turn your face, so clearly comparing yourself to models, it’s like you don’t know that none of them compare to how beautiful you are, the very energy around you.

“I find these sexier than anything.” You smile tremulously now, but he dives back down, fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs as he eyes your pretty lips from the outline of your panties now. “Do I need to prove it to you?”

“Maybe, Mr. Supermodel- ah!” Satoru’s lapped right on Sailor Mars’ little chibi face, which just happens to be where your clit is, making you cry out before you think of his mom there, fuck you feel like you’re sneaking around in school. You cover your mouth to hide another moan as his tongue laps you over the material, moaning softly and eyeing you.

“You’re the sexiest thing like this. Fuck I dreamt of…” He trails off now, blushing furiously, you reach down and take a breath, swiping back his silky locks.

“Dreamt of what, Toru?”

Toru.

Fuck.

He never thought he’d hear it from your lips again, inhale your sweet scent, taste you, it’s all too much, he leans up and slips those cute little panties down your legs too, watching your thighs quiver just a bit. He sees it then, your perfect cunt, fucking glistening from all the arousal already pulling from it. He exhales, pressing a kiss against it bare now.

You jerk up, just his kiss alone pushes you nearly over the edge, his glasses fogging up again as he breathes against you, so fucking sexy you can’t take it - can’t think of it all - the reasons you shouldn’t. He’s arrogant, you’re terrified this is some one time thing, you’re worried you can’t compete with what he’s had, but how he looks at you over those frames?

How he drags his tongue from your slutty little hole pouring out arousal, up to your twitchy clit, ever so slowly, moaning as if he’s never tasted anything better? How his cheeks flush, and his pretty blue eyes go almost black with desire? You can’t stand it anymore, you’ll think of everything tomorrow, for now you would allow yourself to have your Toru back, even if it’s not what you expected.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart, mnh…” He whispers now, watching you ease for him. “That’s it, spread 'em wide, lemme see all your pretty pussy.”

“Oh my god…” You’d never expect any of this, from nerdy Toru or Super model Gojo, the way he speaks to you - parting your plump lips now and eyeing it so lovingly, you can’t help but listen.

“You like hearing it, how pretty she is?” You cover your face again, gasping when he flicks his tongue on your clit again. “How pretty you are?”

“You don’t have to- mnh!” Satoru licks your clit again, groaning as he keeps staring, opening and closing your lips as if he was so fascinated by your pussy, only making you gush more, to his satisfaction.

“Sweetheart, I assure you, you’re perfect. So perfect…” He’s kissing your cunt now, breathing heavier and heavier, before dragging you by the fat of your ass, your thighs on either side of his head. “Want you squirting all over m’fucking face.”

“Oh!” You’re biting back a scream when Satoru goes feral, lapping at your cunt hungrily now, tongue dragging along your walls inside your hole to drink you, as his thumb presses your clit, playing every inch of you. “Toru!”

Satoru groans his response, feeling your hands entangle in his hair, slicked back from that gel, and his glasses are so fogged he can’t see. You take them then, slipping them on your face, and he laughs softly against you. “God, look at you, making those sexy?”

“You do it pretty well - ngh! Toru, s-sensitive there…” Satoru moans now, looking at you in his thick prescription, biting your lip so hard, while he slips up your shirt, you yank the rest off for him, revealing those pretty breasts.

“Play with them f’me, hmm?” He whispers, you do as he says, cupping them and running your thumbs over your nipples, he leaks more precum at the sight, god he has never wanted someone like this. It’s high school but a million times worse, now that your taste is coating his tongue. “Good girl, just like that.”

You’ve never been spoken to like this, you’re suddenly furious at whoever got looked at like this, by your Toru, knowing you shouldn’t fucking think that way, that it’s fleeting - feelings and a connection. That he’ll move on, and maybe think fondly on whatever happens, but it’s hard to not crave him, your best friend that currently is lapping at your cunt.

Your hands squeeze again as he hits just that spot inside you, tastebuds rubbing against slick walls that quiver, your hips arching up for more, more, more. Satoru buries his face against your cunt now, slipping his fingers inside you, the stretch of them so ridiculous you barely cover your scream.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he whispers in wonder, sinking two inside your tight entrance, as she sucks him greedily, his blue eyes looking right at you, ending you as you’re closer to the edge. “So wet just f’me, aren’t you?”

You nod weakly, and he dives back down, sucking on your little clit while your cunt spasms around his fingers, and he pictures sliding so deep inside your cunt, fucking ruining you. God he wants to feel her pulsing around his length, still straining and making his boxers a sticky mess, but he also doesn’t want to miss a fucking drop of you.

“Cumming, cumming!” He moans now, curling his fingers up and looking up under snowy lashes, as your hands grip his hair, pulling it so hard it hurts in the best fucking way, while he watches you, chin glistening from you.

“Then cum, sweets, lemme drink you up.” You’re shattering with one more curl of his fingers, one more flick of that tongue on your clit, milky sweet cum just gushing down his fingers while your walls pulse and flutter, and his moans vibrate, making it even more intense as it washes all over you.

“Toru!” Your cry is weak and small as you hold back the pornographic moans that were going to rip from your throat, shaking violently as waves of pleasure roll through you, so sensitive that just the next brush of his fingers alone has you spiraling back out of control, sobbing at how good he feels. “Oh my god.”

“There, let it all out honey, you’re doing such a good job,” his fingers scissor in and out of your cunt as he leans over you, your hands slipping up under his sweater, making his heart race faster. “Taste yourself, hmm?”

You nod eagerly, expecting a kiss, but he’s opened your mouth, spitting the clear, sticky arousal in your mouth. You gasp and almost choke at it, all while he keeps fingering your cunt, feeling it spasm and get so sloppy he can barely keep them in, she wants to push him out with those tight little muscles.

“Swallow.” You do as he orders, feeling insane, his grin devious as his feral fucking bright blue eyes. “God, look at you… wanna cum again?”

“I c-can’t again, it’s… Satoru shouldn’t I…” He shakes his head, slipping his fingers out and rubbing them up and down your slit, before sucking your juices, so much, off his thick fingers, cheeks hollowing as you watch with parted lips. You ease the glasses with a shaky hand on the nightstand, blinking him into focus.

“I could do this all night, I don’t need anything in return.” It’s true, though before you - yes, he loved to pleasure - but he got his own too. But with you? He’d lick you till his fucking jaw locked up, until you passed out, tapped out.

“But I want to.” Your hand slips down his chest, as you try to get a breath, hand so shaky he pauses it, pulling it up to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

“I’d let you do anything,” he realizes how vulnerable it is, when he sees tears in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ll miss you worse now.” He kisses you again, heavy weight pressing upon you now, and you’re desperate for it, for him, you’ve never felt this, anything close to how bad you want him inside you. “Only doing this once seems cruel.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head, brushing your hair back and looking down into your eyes. “I’ll fly you out to my place whenever, fuck every weekend.”

“You would not, and I couldn’t,” he kisses down your cheek, the curve of your delicate neck, breath tickling your ear. Your hands cling to his sweater, whining out softly when you feel his hard cock against your throbbing cunt. “I couldn’t just up and leave so far…”

“Then you fly out once a month and I’ll make it well worth it.” He’s smirking confidently, and you want to giggle or agree, but you frown. “Too much too quick?”

“I just… you’ll go back to your life.” You’re caressing his cheek, watching his eyelids lower. “Beautiful women. And it’s fine. But I wouldn’t want to be on the roster if that makes sense.”

“I…”

“No, no, not this. This, I can’t stop it if I wanted to. But I wouldn’t be okay with ever sharing.” Satoru blinks a bit, as your words sink in, and you sigh. “I’m taking it seriously already, ignore me?”

“Why ignore you?” He eases up on one arm, your little hand slips up his abdomen, making it tense, aching to dive inside your sweetness, holding back so hard, to see what you’re thinking.

“It must seem silly to you. I only do this in relationships. And it’s been a while.” He realizes then, what you mean.

Do you think that sex with you would mean nothing?

“I’ve kept up with your reputation. No judgement but, I had to make it clear. I couldn’t just come around sometimes and know you’ve been with-”

“Shh.” He kisses you again, unable to articulate it - that now that he’s tasted you he’s not sure he ever wants to taste another - now that he’s kissed you he damn sure doesn’t want to kiss anyone.

But it sounds insane.

He’s pathetic again for you. Only you. You’ve always done this, and now vulnerable and sweet, he wants to say it, but he falters, words aren’t easy - especially with you. He kisses you instead, hoping that you understand, but in your head, you’re thinking he’s done with your thoughts, too many thoughts surely. That those things didn’t need to be spoken of.

But you’re wrong.

He tries again to speak it, when there’s a gentle knock on the door, and you freak out, making Satoru laugh a bit. “Honey, we're grown.”

“Still! It’s your mom!?” You hiss, slipping up your pants, as he slides your shirt back over you, and tries to fix your hair, grinning. “How do I look?”

“Like you got fucked real good.”

“You are still an ass!” You shove playfully at him now, as he helps tie your sweats back, and you’re hurrying to the door, just when he sees them.

Those Sailor Mars panties.

He tucks them away before she peers in, smiling obliviously and eyeing both of you. “Toru, it’s snowing badly outside, I think she should stay the night?”

“Oh no, I’m used to the snow- oh!” Satoru opens his blinds, and you see it’s coated in white, everywhere, wind howling as the snow swirls. “It is insane, isn’t it? Is that okay though?”

“Of course it is. I can sleep on the floor.” He says softly, his mom sighs, blinking her pretty eyes, filled with tears. “Mom…”

“My Toru is home with his best friend. And being a gentleman.” You almost snort, as does he, thinking of just what you had been doing, but both of you don’t have the heart to say anything to Satoru’s pretty, sweet mother. She’s too precious.

“He’s been nothing but a sweetheart tonight. After being a jerk yesterday.” He groans, his mom scowling now.

“You were a jerk? My baby!?”

“Getting me in trouble, I’ll make you sleep on the floor.” He teases, walking back over to you and shoving you playfully, earning your smack.

“You better be sweet, I raised a good boy you know.” His mom pinches both of your cheeks now, grinning so big. “You two back here it feels so good, like it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, mom you’re a mush.” But the guilt creeps in.

Satoru bought this house fully for her, fuck he’s begged her to leave, to move close. He always flew her out and lavished her with anything, and tried to spend time when he could, but he ultimately left her alone - after dad was long gone too. And he sees the toll it took on her and you, being without him.

He hates it, the guilt rising, when he was in LA he could ignore it, he didn’t see it, but his mom hugging you now hit too hard. Your little smile as she smacks kisses on your cheeks, as she starts going on and on as she always did with you. God some days he’d come home from his arcade visit and you’d be baking cookies with her, smiling at him when he came back.

It does feel right, it does feel perfect.

But he’ll leave, this is temporary, he has a life and a career. He has a whole world, and this wasn’t part of it. Could it ever be? Could he find a balance somehow, so he never hurt you or her like this again? Where would you even fit in his hectic world, a sweet little preschool teacher who has so many ties here?

His mind is whirling when he realizes his mom is talking to him. “Hmm?”

“I’ll make cocoa, do you want cocoa? Extra marshmallows and whipped cream?” You look at him as well, so pretty then it breaks his heart, imagining ever not seeing that face again.

“Cocoa, yes. All the sugar.” You grin at that, and his mom rushes down the stairs, leaving you two alone, your hand resting on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

“You’re living on the edge with me hmm?” He laughs a bit, but the laughter doesn’t reach his eyes, not when he’s thinking how badly he never wants to leave this little bedroom, like some snowglobe with just you and him inside.

“I’m making all sorts of bad diet decisions. But, I think I already had something super sweet.” His whisper, along with his trailing fingers down your waistband make you heat up, burying your face against his chest. “The sweetest thing I’ve had.”

“No way!”

“Mmm, oh yes. I have a sweet tooth you know.” You giggle again, so fucking cute he can’t stand it, hands gripping his sweater.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor. We could cuddle.” He exhales at the thought, wondering if he could handle it.

“Yeah, you want me to keep you warm?” You nod quietly, when his mom comes back, and fuck it brings him to those days.

He was happy.

Sure, people were fucking mean and picked on him, but with you he always had love, a best friend, someone who spent all her time with him. Someone who never judged him, who encouraged him to be himself - and he threw you to the fucking side. As he’s sipping the sweet drink and the two of you are standing by the window, watching the snow, he can hardly stand to swallow.

“Satoru, we can just cuddle, I wasn’t insinuating all that.” You make his eyes widen now.

“What are you talking about?”

“You seem tense. Are you having second- mmm!” He kisses you then, one hand on the hot mug, whipped cream on his lips, and you exhale, stepping closer, as he wraps an arm around you.

“I’ll fuck you all night or hold you, or I’ll lick that pretty cunt again and again until you go to sleep,” your heart hammers, when he presses you even closer. “That’s not why I’m tense, I was just feeling horrible.”

“Don’t please!”

“I do. You can’t make it not happen, you can’t just forgive me, and make me not feel like shit.” He sets down the mugs then, cupping your face with both hands, looking down as your head falls back, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what all I can promise, but I swear I’ll never leave you behind like that again.”

“Toru, just…” You yank him down, as he kisses you, deeper and deeper, as if the two of you can’t get enough, when his mom walks back up, clearing her throat, and you all part quickly.

“More snacks, ignore me!” She leaves the tray and runs out, shutting the door and giving you both a thumbs up, and you both laugh now, laugh so hard it feels so good, so beautiful then.

“I love her.” You say, swiping an errant tear.

Satoru almost says it.

He loves you.

He still does, fuck it’s worse, the ache and pull in his heart, his soul, he could shove it back before, chalk it up to high school, to an infatuation with a friend, all misplaced. But now he can’t stop the thought, running circles in his mind, as you take a breath, holding his hands, kissing him once more, leaned up on your tiptoes, as he returns it, soft and sweet.

“Do you um… have protection?” Your whisper makes his cock throb, and he curses softly.

“God nothing here is any good, eight years ago? Expired.” You laugh as he goes to his drawer, and you see your picture, gasping.

“Is that me in my bikini?” You snatch it up, next to ancient condoms and lotion and tissues. He chuckles then, shaking his head as your mouth drops open. “Toru, did you jerk off to me!?”

“Constantly.”

“What!? That’s kind of hot?” He laughs again, as he pulls out the condoms, eyeing the dates.

“Jerked it since I found out how to, always to you.” You’re blushing furiously, handing him back your photo now, and he tosses the condoms in the trash. “Expired long ago.”

“So none with you? Notorious man whore.”

“Hey now.” He glares and you just giggle again. “No I didn’t bring any with me, so option two, I eat you out again, or option three we can cuddle.”

“Ah, I can’t take anymore of your tongue, he’s insane.” You tap his lips playfully, looking down a bit shyly. “Is tonight our only night?”

“What no! No, I mean, no.” He’s such an idiot still, you make him stutter and nervous as fuck just existing. “I’ll spend tomorrow with you too, and if you still want to do more, I’ll have them. Okay?”

You nod, burying your face against his chest again, feeling his soft knit against your skin. “You won’t be missing out on anything will you?”

It was worth anything to spend the last couple days with you, whatever he has to push off or manage, whatever he has to do to delay his trip home somehow, he will. Because no way this is all he gets of you, a night or two, he needs just a little more, to learn you, to make it up to you - to find who both of you are still.

He needs more of you.

“I’ll be fine, now let’s lay down, hmm?” Soon you’re snuggled on his twin bed, smushed together so much his cock won’t go down, and he’s groaning.

“Satoru, I can take care of you.”

“No, I won’t settle for a hand or mouth when I know how good that cunt feels,” you gasp as he yanks you closer, his words making you whine softly. “I’ll enable the pull out method despite wanting to cum inside you.”

“You’re insane you know!?” He just chuckles, kissing your neck. “I’m good at sucking dick… I remember things!”

“I bet you are, sweetheart. I’ll let you when I know I can fuck you.”

“Can’t control yourself with me - ah!” You’re wiggling, teasing him by pressing your ass against him, when he holds you still.

“Don’t tease me, you’ll end up pregnant.”

“Satoru!”

“I’m so serious. This is like a lifetime jerking off here you’re fucking with. Now go to sleep.” You sigh, shaking your head at him, as he smiles, and you feel the curve of his lips against your neck.

“Good night, Toru.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

*****

The next morning he finds his cock pressed right against your lush ass, literally leaking precum as he wakes up from a dream of fucking you in a mating press. God he was filling you so much it was pouring out, the memory alone mixed with his hand somehow squishing your tit is enough to make him whimper.

You’re shifting, still asleep as he curses softly, his phone going off. He uses his free hand to check it, rolling his eyes and putting it to his ear. “Yeah, what?”

“Gojo! What do you mean ‘what’, there’s a shoot in an hour, and it’s an hour drive- just where are you!?” It’s Samantha, whiny as ever, he grimaces, looking down as you blink sleepily, yawning.

“I’ll be there, fuck calm down. The roads were bad…” He eyes outside now, the snow has melted mostly, sun bright and shining, casting shadows on your face as you  look up at him, smiling shyly. “They’ll understand the delay. Get your makeup together and shit.”

“Oh fine, I’m lonely and bored though!” He rolls his blue eyes again.

“Yeah yeah.” He hangs up, but not before you hear her screaming, and you laugh a bit softly at that.

“Samantha?”

“God I can’t stand her. I have to leave but you can stay as long as you want, I’ll call you when I’m done?” You nod, yawning again and stretching, making him pause when your tit pops out of your top, all turned and twisted. “Fuck, one more minute.”

“Huh? Ah!” Satoru sucks your nipple into his mouth, making your cunt throb in need, while he sucks on that peak.

“Like a dream I-” He pauses, you’re so enthralled you just stare, lips parted, eyes dilated, and he clears his throat. “I may have had a very vivid dream.”

“Did you, maybe I did too. Oh, fuck…” He’s sunk two fingers right in your snug little hole then, as his phone goes off, and he glares at it.

“I’ll kill her. I’ll end up on the news for murder.” You’re giggling, watching him balance the phone on his shoulder as he plays your cunt again, and you cover your cries with your mouth when his fingers find that spot. “Yeah, the red one, why because it’s your color? No, not pink. Not with your complexion.”

“Ngh!” A moan escapes, and you gasp, as he chuckles, thumb pressing your little clit and making it twitch as the sounds of your cunt echo in his room embarrassingly.

“What was that well, it’s my friend - oh fuck off. No we’re not sharing her, you really need so much help Samantha.” You’d laugh if you weren’t close to cumming, all while Satoru has you on the edge, your eyes roll back in your skull, gripping his bare forearm, feeling it tense as he works you. “Bye now.”

Satoru leans down to kiss you, drinking up your cries as your orgasm hits, sweet sexy moans he almost cums from. “Toru!”

“That’s it, look at you, so pretty like this.” His soft words ruin you - to compute that he’s the sweet boy you grew up with is almost impossible, when he slips those fingers out, putting them to your lips and spreading your cum like gloss. “Taste it with me.”

You nod weakly and he exhales, kissing your arousal off your lips, on you suddenly, and for a moment you want to say fuck it, fuck me, you wanna beg him to cum in you, which is insane. It’s stupid! But he makes you stupid, your cunt throbbing around nothing as his kisses ease, and he nuzzles his nose, sighing.

“God I don’t wanna get out of this fucking bed.” You smile at that, pressing more kisses, tasting your arousal as you do.

“You like cuddling me hmm?”

“Fuck yes. Every time you slept over I took the floor, remember?”

“I do. I wanted you to um,” you shyly look away, as Satoru blinks. “Sometimes I wish you stayed to hear how I felt.”

He swallows a bit, hating himself for a moment, for leaving you, and would he do it again? Would you come out or would this be it? Could Satoru fit you somehow, could he make sure he didn’t hurt you, even if it was by accident? He can’t stand the thought of hurting you ever again.

“I have to get dressed, sweets.” You nod understandingly, and lay there as he heads to the bathroom, covering your face and sighing.

Were you making a horrible decision?

Then why does it feel so right, him touching you?

Satoru’s back out quickly, all ready to go, pushing you down when you go to get up. “Stay longer.”

“But you’re not even here…”

“Still. Stay and sleep as much as you want.” He kisses you softly, you smile nervously, at how handsome he looks.

“You’re gonna kill it.” He grins, so boyish again, like the Satoru you knew, but something about him with Samantha is upsetting. It’s clear he had no interest, but that was his life, a tall model rich like him, and you’re just a girl from across the street.

Would he want you to fit in one day?

Was he true about his word?

“Don’t pout, pretty. I promise I will see you tonight. With unexpired condoms, if you want.” You’re getting all flustered, as he hums softly. “Sleep here more, I like the idea of you in my bed.”

“Okay, just a bit more.” He covers you up gently, kissing your forehead, dying to stay in the warm bed with you, as you snuggle deeper.

“Promise, I’ll see you tonight.”

You really hope so.

Your heart can’t take him just disappearing again.

Still a LOT of confusion but these two clearly want each other, will Satoru be willing to actually change though and would it ever work out!? - (narrator voice) find out on the next episode of dragon ball z lol

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[sixeyesonathiel]

academic rival!satoru who starts pulling all-nighters and obsessively rewriting his notes not just to beat you—but to catch your attention. he tells himself it’s strategy, war, rival stuff. but deep down, he’s hoping you’ll finally look at him. not glare. look. and when you do—when your gaze sharpens like a blade and you hiss, “how the hell did you score higher than me?”—his heart flutters like it's prom night, like you proposed marriage with your rage. he circles the date on his planner. he writes a haiku about it in his margin. “her eyes could kill me / but in that moment, i’d die / a scholar in love.” he considers submitting it to the campus poetry zine. he doesn’t. but he thinks about it. constantly.

he didn’t mean to start this rivalry, but he absolutely doubled down on it once he realized you were finally taking him seriously. the first time you muttered “smug bastard” under your breath in class, he swore he saw the face of god and got addicted to the sound of your frustration. he spiraled that night. rewrote his planner in pen. made a color-coded timeline of “her fury levels vs my grades.” it’s posted on his wall like an artifact. so now he’s trying harder. not just studying. overstudying. outscoring you on every test, quiz, class poll, kahoot game, group project ranking, and even the stupid little brain break games professors throw in. he shows up with research articles printed and annotated just so he can leave them on your desk, post-it commentary signed with a heart. he calls it “scholarly banter.” his friends call it “a cry for help.”

everything he does is soaked in neon desperation and pastel affection. he's convinced every time your voice raises in exasperation, it’s basically flirting. he calls it “intellectual foreplay.” his friends call it “delusion with extra steps.” you once slammed your textbook shut mid-discussion and muttered something about transferring schools just to escape him. he marked that moment in his journal as “peak chemistry.”

he still steals your pens, but now he leaves behind new ones. personalized. glittery. cursed with horrible puns. your name spelled out in cursive on the cap. once he got one custom-made with your initials and a tiny heart, and when you used it during a test, he almost fainted. he says it's to maintain “balance in the rivalry.” really, he just wants to see you roll your eyes, maybe sigh in that way that means you’re exasperated but not homicidal. progress. baby steps. thesis-worthy milestones. he once emailed the campus stationery supplier to ask if they could make pens that smell like your favorite shampoo. they said no. he cried a little.

his google drive has twelve folders named after you: “rival data,” “her essays (aka masterpieces),” “evidence she’s smarter than me but i’m hotter probably,” and “her favorite snacks ranked by study mood.” he makes spreadsheets comparing your academic scores. one chart tracks your moods based on how many hours you spent in the library, cross-referenced with your spotify activity. it’s color-coded. he thinks it’s romantic. it looks like a CIA threat report. he once gave a presentation with you as a case study on academic excellence. you weren't in the class. he did it anyway. he said it was “practice for when we’re co-professors someday.”

you treat him like a nuisance. a threat. a very loud, very cerulean-eyed glitch in your academic routine. you work harder just to obliterate his smirk. you glare when he gets the top score, mutter insults when he raises his hand, scoff when he compliments your writing. he thinks it’s all part of the enemies-to-lovers pipeline. it is not. you hate him. you're convinced he's mocking you. and he’s too stupidly in love to realize his plan is imploding like a dying star. he writes motivational quotes on his mirror. they’re all just things you’ve yelled at him.

he thinks it’s banter. you think it’s war. he flirts through footnotes, you throw sharpened stares. he doodles hearts on your thesis draft, you circle them in red and write “grow up.” he writes fake references in his essays like “her eyes, personal observation, 2025” and wonders why you haven’t confessed yet. he once tried to footnote your handwriting as a primary source of inspiration. you reported it as academic misconduct. he thanked you for noticing. he still has the warning email. printed. framed.

he believes in your intellectual excellence like it’s gospel. once said, “she’s a walking academic citation,” and got choked up about it. when you won the department award, he clapped so hard he got a bruise. told everyone later he was clapping for the future mother of his academic children. you told him to shut up. he saved the moment anyway. printed the photo. it’s in his wallet. laminated. waterproof. just in case.

his grades are rising but his romantic odds are tanking. he’s winning tests and losing dignity. one time he scored 100%, looked at you for validation, and you said, “congrats, nerd.” he wrote a poem about it. it rhymed. poorly. he performed it at the campus open mic. people clapped. you left halfway through. he said it was symbolic. a metaphor for your metaphorical emotional walls. he made a mood board. labeled it “the walls she built, the man i became.”

to him, you're the rival-slash-muse of his dreams. to you, he’s that annoying guy who somehow has your cat doodle as his lock screen. how? why? you don’t know. you don’t want to know. he says it “inspires him to rise above academic mediocrity.” you tell him to get therapy. he writes that down. “note to self: look into couples therapy.” you threaten violence. he updates his will. adds a note: “to be read by her, preferably with tears in her eyes.”

he's convinced you're in the slow burn arc. you're convinced he’s an incurable idiot. he messages you late at night with things like, “what’s your stance on fate?” or “if we wrote a thesis together, what would the topic be?” you leave him on read. he screenshots it and stares for hours. once he printed out a message you sent—“we’re not friends”—and taped it above his desk like motivational hate mail. then made it his lock screen for a week.

of course you and him aren’t friends. don’t be ridiculous. you’re soulmates, silly. academic rivals to twin flames. enemies-to-lovers speedrun. he’s delusional, yes, but passionately.

his delusions are so loud they echo in the lecture hall. he sees you win a class debate and writes a 2,000-word reflection on intellectual passion. titles it “she spoke, and the earth wept.” submits it anonymously to the school literary mag. signs it with your initials and hopes you’ll take the hint. you do. you write a rebuttal titled “the earth weeps because you talk too much.” he hangs it next to his bed. says it’s proof of your connection. invites people over just to show them.

you once muttered, “you’re a walking distraction,” and he whispered “she noticed me” before fainting dramatically onto his desk. his friend had to fan him with a syllabus. he calls that day “the awakening.” he includes it on his personal timeline of academic enlightenment. writes a song. badly. uploads it to soundcloud under the name “midterm romeo.” it has 101 plays. 99 of them are him.

the only reason he joined the academic decathlon was because you signed up. when asked his motivation, he said “to defeat my nemesis and earn her begrudging respect.” you stared at him. he winked. you nearly punched him. he said, "was that a spark?" and held an ice pack to his cheek with a lovesick smile. wrote a limerick about it. no one laughed but him. he printed it on a mug.

he's tried subtle confessions, like changing his discord status to “she's my thesis.” no one knew who “she” was. except everyone did. the group chat roasted him for six hours. he left and rejoined under a new name: “GPA 4 HER.” it got worse. made a spotify playlist named: “studying her like a sacred text.” you blocked him on everything but email. he started ending all peer reviews with “ps: hi.”

at some point, your mutual friends start noticing. they ask if you two are dating. you respond with horror. he responds with “not yet.” you threaten violence. he updates his will again. adds a footnote: “if she cries at my funeral, i win.” writes a powerpoint: “our enemies-to-lovers arc: a predictive analysis.” presents it to himself in his dorm at 2am. cries. adds transitions. makes a playlist.

you don’t know he wrote you into his valedictorian speech. he calls you “his greatest academic challenge and muse.” he practices it at night, staring at the mirror, pretending you're there in the crowd, not fuming—but finally, finally smiling at him. he’s rehearsed your nonexistent wedding vows more than his intro paragraph. sometimes he grades fake exams you never wrote and gives you 100 just to feel something. he once drafted a fictional university recommendation letter for you just to imagine what it’d be like to praise you publicly without you throwing a pen at his head.

and maybe, if he’s lucky, when the final grades are out and you tie for first place, you’ll look at him again. not with fury. not with confusion. but with something soft. maybe interest. maybe curiosity. maybe the beginning of something stupid. something sweet. something research paper-worthy.

strictly academic, of course. unless... extra credit?

[moondustbaby]

Her Day

CEO!Rafe x pregnant nanny/gf!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

summary: It’s your birthday, and Rafe and Mason team up to make sure you feel loved every single second. From breakfast in bed to handmade gifts and backyard cupcakes, it’s a cozy Sunday you’ll never forget—with the two boys who love you more than anything.

⸻

You wake up to the smell of cinnamon and the sound of someone whisper-yelling in the hallway.

“No, Dad, you’re supposed to let me carry it!”

“Mase, it’s hot. I’m just helping you not burn your fingers.”

“I’m seven, not a baby.”

You smile into the pillow.

There’s a soft knock at your door, and before you can answer, it creaks open and Mason bursts in, holding a slightly crooked tray with a stack of pancakes, a paper flower, and a glass of orange juice that’s sloshing dangerously close to the edge.

“Happy birthday!” he shouts.

Rafe follows behind him, grinning. “We come bearing syrup and chaos.”

You sit up, cheeks already aching from how hard you’re smiling. “What is all this?”

Mason sets the tray in your lap proudly. “Breakfast in bed. And I made the card. It has a poem.”

“A poem?” you gasp, clutching your chest. “Let me hear it.”

He clears his throat dramatically.

“Roses are red,

You are the best,

Better than waffles

And way better dressed.”

You snort-laugh, and Rafe groans. “He wrote that part himself. I tried to offer editorial support.”

Mason beams. “Do you love it?”

“I love it,” you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “It’s the best birthday card I’ve ever gotten.”

He wiggles beside you on the bed while you take your first bite. The pancakes are shaped like hearts. Rafe pretends not to watch you too closely, but his gaze softens every time you glance his way.

⸻

After breakfast, Rafe takes Mason out for “secret errands,” promising to be back by noon. He kisses your cheek and tells you to relax, take your time, and not peek in the living room.

So you shower slowly, put on the soft sundress Rafe bought you last month “just because,” and let yourself sink into the stillness of a quiet house. The sunlight spills in through the windows, and everything feels a little golden.

By the time they return, Mason’s carrying a grocery bag with something clinking inside and looking very pleased with himself.

“Okay,” Rafe says, clapping his hands together. “Birthday activities commence.”

Mason takes your hand like a gentleman. “You get a full day of presents, snacks, and zero rules. Except maybe one rule. You have to wear the crown.”

He pulls a foam tiara from behind his back—glittery, pink, and clearly handmade.

You laugh and place it on your head.

“It suits you,” Rafe murmurs, kissing your temple.

⸻

The living room is decorated with a banner that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY (we love you!!!) in Mason’s handwriting. There are paper flowers taped to the windows and little confetti hearts sprinkled on the coffee table. It’s messy and adorable and so completely them.

You sit on the floor while Mason presents you with your first gift: a framed drawing of the three of you—stick figure style—with a caption that reads “OUR FAMILY :)” in crayon.

You nearly cry.

The next gift is from Rafe. A small box. Inside: a delicate gold necklace with a tiny charm shaped like a crescent moon.

“I saw it and thought of you,” he says quietly. “Something soft. Something steady.”

You lean over and kiss him. “It’s perfect.”

He smiles. “You’re perfect.”

Mason groans. “Kissing? On your birthday? Ew.”

⸻

The rest of the day is slow and easy just the way you like it.

There’s a picnic in the backyard with finger sandwiches and juice boxes and sparkling lemonade. Mason gives you a “birthday quiz” where every answer is somehow about how awesome you are. Rafe grills for dinner, even though he absolutely hates grilling, and the three of you eat barefoot on the porch while the sun starts to dip low.

As night settles in, Mason brings out the final surprise: cupcakes he helped decorate (absolutely covered in sprinkles) and a handmade coupon book filled with things like “1 free hug” and “I will not argue about bedtime (1 time only).”

You’re laughing through tears by the time he curls up against you on the couch, your arm around him and your other hand holding Rafe’s.

“I hope you had the best birthday ever,” Mason says sleepily.

“I really did,” you whisper, pressing a kiss into his curls. “Thanks to you.”

“You’re my favorite girl,” he murmurs. “After the baby.”

You laugh. “Fair enough.”

Rafe raises a brow. “I’m not even in the top three, am I?”

Mason shrugs dramatically. “You’re the wallet.”

Rafe sighs. You and Mason giggle.

⸻

After Mason’s in bed, the house finally quiet, you find Rafe in the kitchen tidying up. He stops when he sees you.

“Hey, birthday girl.”

“Hey.” You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. “Thank you for today.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You deserve more than one day. You’re… everything.”

You look up at him, smiling.

He leans down and kisses you slow. Sweet. The kind of kiss that says I see you, I love you, I’m yours.

“Happy birthday,” he murmurs.

You kiss him again. “It really was.”

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: this one made me emotional in the softest way—rafe being tender and thoughtful, mason in full chaotic party planner mode, and you in a tiara with cupcakes and kisses?? a dream. 🥹

♥️ lani

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[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. crybaby!reader, a little blood, swear words, soft!rafe, suggestive

it wasn't often that rafe cameron finished dealing with business early. his feet passed through the doorframe of tannyhill where he expected to find you rumaging around the house, up to no good as you always were, despite such pure intentions.

however, the sound of little sobs and whimpers left him trailing upstairs.

"sweetheart? wh's wrong?" he slowly creaked the bedroom door open. he spotted you sitting in the bed decorated with frilly pink bedsheets, your choice of course, fat globs of tears rolling down your cheeks and swollen lips, burying your face into a pillow. "hey, hey, wh's the tears for, huh?"

"'s my leg." rafe watched as you sat up on the bed, showing the little gash on your left knee, a little blood trailing down your leg. "w-was on the ladder 'n then―"

but rafe cut you off, his brows raised. "on the ladder? what were you on the ladder for, huh? you were already told about climbing stuff when 'm not home." there was a mean etch to his tone.

you could only blubber. "'m sorry, r-rafe. 'm really sorry, j-jus wanted my lights up."

rafe sighed, agitated as he leaned over to the bedside locker where a little first aid kit was hidden. it was safe to say that you were prone to accidents. "shouldn't have been climbing a fuckin' ladder when i wasn't home." he grasped your leg, despite his harsh tone, his touch was gentle. "stop cryin', sweetheart, you're fine."

you felt him wiping an antiseptic wipe across your knee, collecting the trailing blood too. "rafe that h-hurts." another few fat tears rolled down your cheeks, stuttering over your words.

"you're fine, pincess." rafe couldn't help the low guilt swimming in his stomach. he knew you were dramatic, it was in your nature and by no means did it hurt enough for you to be sat in the bed crying your pretty eyes out. but nonetheless, he rolled his eyes and helped you up into your lap.

he was still learning with you, gauging your every response to his touches and his words.

a little comfort went a long way, apparently.

you eventually did stop crying, albiet in his lap and clinging around his neck. you were still sniffling quietly and rafe couldn't help but give in.

"relax, sweetheart, you're fine now." you nodded gently against the crook of his neck. "'s over, okay? 'want no more tears from you, alright?"

you could only nod again, saying nothing.

rafe only rolled his eyes. though they instantly fell on the little lights that were sitting up on the desk. they were in the shapes of pink stars and quite frankly, they were a little ugly. but you'd been talking about these damn lights with weeks, every day you's show him your phone, glittery nails shooting out to show him the tracking of your delivery.

"i'll put up your lights." he grumbled, watching as your head rose.

"you will?" you sounded all stuffed up and snotty from crying, eyes all red and face a little blotchy.

rafe sighed, knowing he was mean but he wasn't downright evil. "mm." he grumbled again in response, seating you off his lap and onto the bed. "but you stay away from this fuckin' ladder, y'hear?"

you nod happily into the pink pillows and watch him grab the pretty lights into his hands. "thank you rafey."

he didn't respond, only turning with the lights in his hands. "turnin' my room into a damn pink zoo." he glanced sideways when you didn't respond, you were too busy staring at your knee with your eyes filled with tears all over again.

rafe wanted to roll his eyes but he opted not to.

a little soft tone went a long way, too, apparently. "your leg hurtin', baby?"

you nod, sniffling as your fingers trace the cut. it's not bleeding anymore but rafe knew you'd end up putting some strange plaster on it later anyway, designed with something pink, probably.

you watched him lean down, with your leg in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your knee, eyes looking up at you. "poor girl, jus' wanted her pretty lights up, huh?"

"mhm." when rafe pitied you, you started to pity yourself too.

"my poor girl." he reached up for you, pulling you down into a soft embrace as his breath fanned your neck. "'s okay, baby, rafe'll make it all better, won't he?"

your mind went all fuzzy and your body went all warm. "uh huh." you could feel his hand trailing up past your wounded knee, beneath your skirt.

"you jus' relax, yeah?" fingers attaching to your pretty panties. "let rafe take care of you.

[yasministration]

Love at first sight - Sirius Black

summary: lily's sister who goes to beauxbatons throws the party of the summer which sparks likely friendships, and an even likelier romance. wc: 2.3k

Lily came into the Great Hall the same way she always did: a determined look on her face, chin lifted up confidently, carrying overflowing papers in her arms, but something was different. Those paper she carried? They weren’t filled with head girl applications or polished assignments, no, they were party invitations.

She sat at her usual seat, and as per usual, the marauders ruffled through her papers. “Party invitations?” Whispered Sirius excitedly, as though it was something secret. Lily puffed her chest out “Y/n’s throwing a party, and encouraged me to extend the invitations to some Hogwarts students.” James cleared his throat to stop himself from choking on his tea. “I’m sorry? Your parents are letting you throw a party? The same two people who didn’t let you come over to Marlene’s tea party?” Lily grinned widely. “Well, y/n only comes home during the summers. I’m there every winter and spring break , so she kind of has a way with our parents. All she had to say was ‘this is our last summer before we graduate’ and she had them.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Marlene cut in, her face lighting up, “If this is y/n’s party, does this mean it’s going to be filled with sexy french kids?” Lily nodded happily, sharing a look with the other marauders. It was going to be the party of the year.

You and Lily were the epitome of opposites. You’d engrossed yourself in getting to know all the kids in the neighborhood and quickly because friends with your french neighbour, while Lily only befriended one — Severus. By force of being around the young boy, you’d learned his language, his language which quickly became your own. Whilst you and Lily had your own friends, no one was closer to you both than each other. You were twins, not only blood brothers but best friends. Due to your linguistic talent, you’d not only received a letter from Hogwarts on your eleventh birthday, but from Beauxbatons too. Petunia, ever so jealous of your relationship and your magic, had duped your parents into sending you away.

Petunia had ran off crying, locked in her room alone until she formed the plan of the century to break your relationship with your twin apart. “Well, they’re always together. Isn’t it better for them to learn how to live apart from each other?” And your parents had fallen for her trick. Now, you only saw each other during the summers, and your relationship was stronger than ever. But things would soon change.

The only thing Lily heard of for the rest of the day was this party. Who was she inviting? How many people would be there? “Sirius, it’s not my party. I don’t know the details. All I’ve been told is that I have these invitations to give out to people.” Sirius stared at the front of the boldly decorated invitation on the top of the pile which read in a glittery font ‘No invite, no entry!’ He ran a rough estimate in his mind and decided there had to be at least seventy invitations in the stack of papers. “Can I help give them out?”

Lily and Sirius had proudly made up a list of who to invite, or not to invite, the rest of the marauders eventually gathering around to put in their own two cents. When the invitations had been given out, Lily returned to her dorm whilst the marauders all sat in front of the black lake, soaking up the limited sun rays whilst staring at their own invitations. “This is some high end decor.” Commented Remus, turning his invitation in his hands. The fonts had been carefully chosen, and a textured disco ball sat in the centre of the page. “Yeah, according to Lily, y/n loooves to party.” Marlene added, laying on her back. “I’m excited to meet her,” started James “She sounds fun, and we barely ever hear about her from Lily.”

Sirius hummed, gears turning in his brain. “Lily said they’re nothing alike.” He recalls. It was true. You and Lily weren’t only opposites in terms of personality, but looks too. Despite being twins, you had taken all of your father’s genes while Lily took after your mother. No one ever believed you when you said you were twins, let alone siblings.

The party was nearly an entire month later. The marauders found themselves outside an ordinary muggle house, glancing at each other nervously. Had they arrived too early? Marlene glanced down at her invitation, ensuring that they were there right on time. A knock on the door and they were waiting. The door slammed open and they were met with you, a bright smile on your face and a tray in the other with an array of pink and blue jell-o shots. You weren’t the only thing that welcomed them, but the loud roar of noise from inside the house blasted them too. Remus cocked an eyebrow, thinking ‘That’s one mean silencing charm.’ “Grab a drink you guys!” You called, holding the door open with your foot as you moved to the side for them to come in. You introduced yourself over the noise, clueless to the mesmerised eyes following you.

Sirius let himself be dragged into the house by Remus, though his eyes followed you as you escaped into the backyard. Lily had been right, you weren’t nothing alike. You wore fishnets under your small denim shorts, your top exposing more than just midriff. He gulped, trying not to be caught staring at your breasts when you turned around, instead moving his gaze to the endless jewellery you wore.

Sirius heard himself gasp — apparently the french like to be early. The party in the backyard was lit, he finally noticed, with groups of people already playing beer pong, dancing to the music, and even exchanging light conversation. Lily ran to join them, trying to properly introduce you to her friends, but you were running back to the door as the bell rung once more.  Apparently everyone arrived at once, because a crowd of people suddenly flooded the living room. A mix of elegant french and fast english chatter filled the air, and Sirius saw Marlene’s jaw drop, already picking the girl she was going to spend the rest of the night flirting with. Just as Lily was about to catch you, you jumped onto the coffee table, pointing your wand to your neck with an amplification charm.

“Okay, listen up everyone!” You called out, and from within the crowd, Sirius caught your eye, his muscular arms thrown over two of his friends' shoulders. You hadn’t properly noticed him when he walked in, but now? You shook the thought out of your head. “We have about 200 wizards in this house. A house that you can tell is in a muggle neighbourhood! Now, my silencing charm may be great, but it doesn’t hide magical activity! So if we can keep the magic down to a minimum and get the party up to a maximum that would be great! Where’s my music!?” And suddenly the music roared to life. Sirius shoved to the front of the crowd, offering you a hand to help you down from the coffee table. You felt your stomach jump at his offer, the light reflecting off his silver jewellery. Instead of taking Sirius’s hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, swinging your legs off the table. Sirius snaked his arms around your waist without missing a beat, spinning you around so you let out a joyous laugh. “And who might you be?” You asked, running your hands down his chest before letting them hang by your sides.

Sirius curtseyed, miming saluting you with a hat whilst very poshly saying “Sirius Black, at your service.” You giggled, putting both your hands on his bicep. “Hey, you met Sirius!” Lily cut in, bumping you with her hip. You met her eyes, and they glinted with mischief. She most definitely knew how attracted you were to Sirius in that moment. “Come meet the others!” She didn’t give you time to respond, instead tugging you away from the curly haired boy. You waved at him, yelling “I’ll see you later!” and then “Shut up” to Lily when you turned around. You didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling like the cheshire cat.

James was the first to bring you into a hug, his hands respectfully patting your back. You turned to look at Lily, nodding in approval. Your introductions with Remus and Marlene were quick, witty comments given by each of them before Marlene so boldly asked “Hey, is that cute brunette over there into girls?” You laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be more specific, but for you? Anyone would be into girls.” Simple to say, Marlene turned bright red, and not because of the warmth the alcohol had given her.

When Sirius returned to the group, you were already gone, dancing with your friends. He threw his arms around James’s shoulders, resting his head on his best friends’s shoulder. “James, we’re going to be brothers in law!” The boy barked out a laugh, pushing Sirius away to look at him properly. “I’m in love with her James.” Remus laughed, slapping a hand on Sirius’s back. “Well what are you going to do about it buddy?” He asked, sharing an amused glance with James. “I’m going to convince her to come to Hogwarts. Wait! First, I’m going to make her fall in love with me!” Sirius frowned at his two friends’ loud laughs, muttering something like “I’ll show you.” But he didn’t have the chance to come find you in the crowd, because two pairs of hands were placed upon his shoulders, and you appeared, saying “Come dance with me.”

Sirius almost passed out at your offer, blindly following you onto the dance floor and missing the surprised look Remus and James shot each other. Apparently, you wouldn't need much convincing to fall for Sirius. Sirius took your hand, spinning you around, and you looking him up, looking around as though it would hide the bite of your lip. Sirius’s jeans were just tight enough around the crotch, and low waisted enough that every time he raised his arms too high, a sliver of his abdomen would show as his top would ride up. You spun around in Sirius’s arms, pressing your back against his chest. His hands trailed down to your hips, tugging them closer to his own. You giggled, moving your body alongside the music. Sirius groaned, whispering the lyrics in your ear, his hot breath hitting your sweaty skin.

The next time Sirius groaned, it wasn’t out of enjoyment, it was because someone had called out your name. “Viens avec nous? Just une cigarette!” (Come with us? Just one cigarette!) You had laughed at your friend’s words, shaking your head. “Non, il est trop beau, je ne veux pas le quitter!” (No, he’s so gorgeous, I don’t want to leave him!) Sirius hummed as you turned around in his arms, putting both your hands on his chest. “Come outside with me! Somewhere we can talk!” You grinned, sliding both your hands down in his, and letting him drag you outside.

You let Sirius guide you to a less crowded side of your garden, where you could people watch without being disturbed. You pushed Sirius against the wall of your backyard, watching as his eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “So, Mr. Black, what would you like to discuss?” Sirius felt his heart surge, its pace quickening by the second, and he was sure you could feel it under your fingertips too. “Go out with me.” He heard himself blurt, and his eyes went wide at his own question. You laughed, looking around. “Aren’t we out right now?” The silence he left you with made you giggle, leaning your head forward on his chest. “I’m just joking.” Sirius shoulders slumped down in relief, hands loosely gripping your hips.

“I don’t want this to just be a little party flirt. I want to really get to know you. You… you seem cool.” You pressed yourself onto your tip toes, leaning forward to softly kiss Sirius. He sighed as you pulled away, chasing the kiss softly, but you refused to reconnect your lips. “I’d really like that.” Sirius smiled widely, pulling you flat against his body. “And hey, who knows, maybe you can show me around Hogwarts?” Sirius nodded, replying with “Yeah of- wait, what?” You straightened your back, cocking your head to the side. “Yeah, I’m moving to Hogwarts next year. Mum and dad finally had enough of me being so far away.” You interrupted yourself with your own laugh, pushing yourself off of him and looking around. “That’s what this is! My goodbye slash welcome party. Didn’t Lily tell you?” Sirius shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Well since I’ll be seeing more of you, can I properly kiss you now?”

Nodding at Sirius, you let him tug you closer to him, bringing you into a passionate kiss. You gasped at the force of his kiss, letting Sirius slide his tongue into your mouth. Moaning softly, you brought your hands up to cup Sirius’s face, pushing your body even deeper into his. “Oh my!” You pulled away from Sirius harshly, stumbling away from him. “I mean, I knew you guys had something going on, but I didn’t know it was going on.” You felt your face flush at Lily’s words, and heard Sirius cry out from behind you “Why didn’t you tell us she’s joining next year!?” James, from next to Lily, turned to face her, surprise overtaking his features. “I wanted to see how you guys got along before telling anyone!”

Remus approached the four of you, tipsily mumbling “Marlene has a roster of like three girls right now, and I just overheard some guy saying he wants to jump in the lake. I didn’t know there was a lake.” Remus stood silently, finally taking in the scene in front of him.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

[mercifulstate]

⋆.˚ 𖥔˚ PERSISTENCE ISN’T THAT FUCKING HARD. YOU’RE JUST OVERTHINKING IT.

Here’s the truth, babe:

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Persistence isn’t some mystical, complicated, twenty-step ritual with moon water and six daily meditations.

It’s literally just this:

“Yeah. It’s already mine.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎That’s it. No glittery lightning bolt. No thunderous spiritual awakening. Just a quiet, calm, deep-rooted certainty that what you want is already yours.

Not “might be,” not “hopefully,” not “if I do everything right.”

It is. Yours. Period.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎BUT WAIT—your brain goes:

“What if I’m just delusional?” “What if I don’t deserve it?” “What if it’s not working???”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Okay. Take a breath. Let’s be real: doubt is normal. You're not a self-help robot. You're not here to repeat affirmations like a broken cassette tape in a yoga studio. You’re not meant to be perfectly positive every hour of every day. That’s exhausting and unrealistic.

✦ Here’s what actually matters:

Even when you’re crying.

Even when you’re spiraling.

Even when you feel like a damn goblin in emotional shambles—

It’s still yours.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You having a moment of fear? That doesn’t undo the energy you’ve already locked in. You having a breakdown in bed at 2AM? Still doesn’t change the fact that what you want is already on the way.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Because you decided. You claimed it. You set that standard. And once you’ve decided something is yours, that energy doesn’t just disappear because your vibes were off for a day. This isn’t about being perfect. This is about being solid.

✦ Feeling sad? Angry? Numb? That’s completely okay.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You’re human. You’re allowed to feel like shit. You don’t have to constantly be chanting “I am abundant” while forcing a smile like a possessed Barbie. You can fall apart. You can doubt. You can scream into a pillow. You can be a whole mess and STILL be magnetic as hell.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Because persistence is not about controlling how you feel. It’s about knowing that beneath all the chaos, deep in your core—you already believe. That’s all it takes.

✦ The Real Magic?

That lowkey, quiet belief that never really leaves.

That tiny flicker in your chest that whispers:

“No matter what I feel right now… it’s mine.” That’s the kind of power you don’t have to scream to prove. That’s the energy that bends reality for you. Unshakable. Subtle. Devastatingly effective.

So cry.

Eat junk.

Doubt yourself.

Throw a tantrum.

Take a break.

Feel it all.

But don’t EVER fucking forget who the hell you are.

You’re not just manifesting.

You’re embodying.

You’re not waiting.

You’re arriving.

You’re not begging.

You’re declaring.

Live like it’s already yours.

Because it is.

Even on your worst day,

you’re still that bitch.

🖕 Love,

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✦ Mercy, your raging godmother or whatever <3

[passionwillow]

Robby gives soft!Dom but Abbott gives Daddy/Brat Tamer!Dom vibes, don’t ya think?

I just woke up and DAMN I need a minute after reading that. 😩 He definitely fucking does!

- Abbot can’t fucking wait for you to get an attitude with him some days. There’s nothing he loves more than grabbing a hold of you and bending you over the nearest piece of furniture.

- Thankfully, it comes pretty easy to you. You never act like this towards him with intent, it’s all good fun for both of you.

- The second the last witty comment leaves your mouth, the last straw on the camels back, he’s on you. “You’re really trying to get on my nerves today, huh?” “That’s the goal, baby.”

- He’s behind you in a second and he can see your tense shoulders, just waiting in anticipation. He’s grabbing the back of your neck and bending you over the counter where you’re cooking, smirking at the gasp that leaves your mouth.

- “Just can’t fucking behave for one day, huh?” He tsk’s, hand sliding down your back before landing a smack on your ass. You jump and hum at the impact, legs spreading and back arching for more. “Why the hell would I, when this is what happens?”

- Sometimes he’ll have you bent over for him, pulling your bottoms down and fucking you until your legs are shaking. Those shaky moans, watching you squirm and cry out as you beg for more gets him even more riled.

- Sometimes he’ll take you up to the bedroom, shoving you down on the bed and fucking you into the mattress. Legs spread wide, his hand around your throat as he holds you down and drills you. “You love being such a fucking brat, don’t you? You do it just to get fucked, huh?”

- He loves leaving his handprints on your ass. One hand fisting your hair and holding your head back, the other landing sharp slaps on your cheeks, watching the flesh bounce and ripple.

- FUCKING YOU IN FRONT OF A MIRRORRR. He literally bought one just this purpose. He loves taking you from behind, hand pressing down on your back to keep you arched just right for him. “Look at yourself, baby. You look so fucking good, getting fucked like a slut.”

- He loves tying you up and using toys on you. A vibrator to your clit, one of your glittery dildos, he loves to change it up. Watching you squirm and sweat and whine, your thighs trembling.. He gets so goddamn hard. “You wanted to act up, princess. I think you could cum a few more times, hm?” As he turns the vibrator up another notch.

- Sometimes he’ll bury his fingers inside you as he covers your mouth, the only sound your muffled whines and the lewd wet sounds between your legs. “You wanted to fucking tease me, you wanted it so bad, baby. Take it. Like a good fucking girl.”

- But on the flip side, he can be the softest man around. He drags you down on the couch most days to lay on him, ignoring your laughter and protests because his favorite show is on and he wants you with him. Head on his chest, bodies tangled.

- Showers!!! He loves it when you shower with him. He adores the intimacy of washing one another, seeing every piece of each other and loving them. Your curves, stretch marks and scars, every little mole and freckle. He finds you beautiful, and he can’t help but blush when you gaze at him like he’s some statute carved from marble.

- Cooking together is one of his favorite activities. Neither of you are too great at it, so when he finds a new recipe, the kitchen is usually destroyed. Bowls everywhere, scraps of chopped vegetables or sauce on the table, both of you tasting the food and sharing a look of disgust before laughing. “Want me to order a pizza?” “I’ll start cleaning up.”

- He loves making love to you. Bodies pressed together, slow thrusts, trading passionate kisses. He’s such a sucker for those kind of moments together. Fingers intertwined as he rolls his hips slow and deep, smiling at the way your breath hitches when he’s buried inside.

- AFTERCARE. It doesn’t matter how spent he is, he’s getting up and cleaning you off. Wiping the mess between your thighs and kissing your forehead, mumbling how much he loves you. And it’s only fair you clean him off, kissing his chest as you go.

- He’ll rub your sore muscles, the bruises he’s left behind, bring you water and snacks before hugging you back to his chest. His own personal weighted blanket.

[enwoso]

fifty and flyin’ | alessia russo x child!reader

i’m not even lying when i say this has been sat waiting since the fifth of april.. since last camp. but finally it’s here - worth the wait🙃

grumpy masterlist

the buzz in the spanish stadium was electric as always no matter where the lionesses played—flags waving, drums pounding, chants echoing through the crisp night air. the scent of fresh grass and stadium food lingered in the air, as the floodlights beamed down on the pitch like stars.

but as you sat with a bundle of nerves and glitter in your lap, clutching a hand-painted banner bigger than you were.

"do you think she'll see it, nonna?" you asked, peeking over the edge of the barrier. your big curious blue eyes scanning the field anxiously, despite the game not having started yet.

"she'll see it, darling," your grandfather reassured with a warm wink. "you spent all day on that. if she misses it, we'll wave it even harder."

the banner was an explosion of colour and love: "GO MUMMY! 50 CAPS! WE LOVE YOU!"— written in bold, glittery letters, with red and white hearts, stick figures of you and alessia holding hands, as well as many tiny doodles of both of your favourite things for good measure.

"she's going to cry when she sees it," luca said, grinning as he helped you hold it steady. "you've made sure of that."

down on the pitch, alessia was focused— hair slicked back perfectly in a ponytail, armband on her sleeve, the number 9 proudly stretched across her back. england v portugal.

her 50th cap. something she could only dream about when she was your age, now was time to make that dream a reality.

but even in her focus, her eyes flicked to the stands every few minutes. always to the same spot. always searching for her girl, for you.

—

the first half was tight. the kind of game that had everyone on edge. but through it all, you sat perfectly upright, hands gripping your sign, barely blinking.

"mummy's playing really good, right nonna?" you asked quietly, like you didn't want to jinx anything.

"the best," your grandmother said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "your mummy was made for moments like this."

and when it happened—when ella slipped that perfect through ball, and alessia took it in stride, cutting between defenders like she was dancing— you froze. and then—

"MUMMY!!!"

you screamed so loud it startled the row in front. glitter flying from your jumper like a confetti cannon as you jumped up and down, feet bouncing on the seat. your cheeks flushed pink with sheer excitement.

"she did it! she did it, nonna! did you see? did you see?!"

luca laughed, lifting you up into his arms so you could wave the banner even higher. "we all saw, darling. the whole stadium saw."

down on the pitch, alessia's arms flew out in their usual way, for her celebration. air russo back in business. she beamed—radiant and wild with joy—and as her teammates swarmed her, she pulled away just slightly, facing the family section.

she kissed her wrist, like always, then tapped the number on her back. and finally, pointed straight toward the stands—toward you. pressing her palm over her heart and mouthed the words 'that was for you.'

you gasped loud as you hand went around your mouth. "mummy pointed at me. she did it for me."

"you've always been her lucky charm, kiddo" luca whispered, kissing the top of your head.

—

the final whistle blew. england 2–1 spain.

alessia's legs ached, her cheeks hurt from smiling, and adrenaline pulsed through her veins. but her eyes weren't on the cameras, or the fans, or even her teammates.

they were on that one spot in the stands. and there it was. the banner. still held up high by tiny, determined arms.

"look at her," alessia breathed, eyes soft. "she's still holding it."

ella jogged over, nudging her side. "you've gone, mate. you've gone full mum-mode."

"i have to go to her," alessia said, already veering off.

leah called after her, "don't go jumping fences!"

"lovie's with my mum, relax!" alessia tossed over her shoulder, laughing. as she approached the barrier, you were already bouncing in place, nearly falling into nonna's lap.

"mummy! mummy, you scored! did you see my banner? i held it up the whole time, even when my arms got tired and we had to fix it 'cause the wind tried to steal it!"

alessia beamed, reaching over and wrapping her arms tight around you as if it had been years since she saw you when in reality it had been less than four hours, pulling you in close like the rest of the world didn't exist.

"oh, i saw it," she whispered into your curls. "lovie, it was the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. it sparkled even more than hannah’s gloves."

you giggled. "you really saw it?"

"i saw it right after i scored. i looked straight up and there you were. it made my whole night."

"really? you mean it?" you asked, wide-eyed, not sure whether to believe your mummy or not.

"i scored for you, lovie. that goal was yours. that whole game—you were with me the whole time."

you lit up like a christmas tree. "i knew it. i told uncle luca you'd score. i felt it in my tummy."

alessia laughed, eyes brimming with happy tears. nothing would ever top this moment. "well, you've got good instincts, lovie."

normally, alessia would leave you with your grandparents during post-match duties, you having more fun with them then the boring behind the scene action. but not tonight. not on her 50th cap. not after that banner.

alessia lifted you over the barrier, ignoring the slight protest from the steward, and settled you securely on her hip.

"let's go wave at the fans, my little superstar."

you squealed, arms tight around her neck as you waved bye to your grandparents and your uncle before turning back to your mummy. "i love you, mummy."

"i love you more, my baby." as you both walked the pitch together, the team lit up.

"whey! look who's here!" lucy called out, waving her arms around in excitement. "future number 9 on the pitch!"

lauren crouched down to your level. "that banner was fire. can you make one for me next time?"

"hmm, i only make them for my mummy," you said matter-of-factly, before pausing. "but maybe... if you score a really really good goal."

chloe kneeling beside you with mock seriousness. "on a scale of one to sparkly, how much glitter did you use?"

"all of it," you replied proudly. "mama says i'm a glitter menace."

beth laughed. "and you're a menace on the pitch, less."

leah joined them with a soft smile, carrying the banner like it was great treasure. she handed it back to you. "don't worry, angel. i've protected it."

you grinned wide. "thank you, mama."

alessia glanced between the two of them, heart practically bursting. "look at my girls," she whispered.

and in that moment—on a foreign pitch, surrounded by teammates and fans, under a glitter-filled night—everything felt whole. fifty caps. one goal. one unforgettable banner.

and a family that made everything mean more.

—

after the celebration had died down and everyone was now winding down for the night, before a long day of travelling.

the hotel room was bathed in soft golden light, the atmosphere warm and peaceful after the rush of alessia's big night.

from the window, the city below buzzed with life, but inside, the only sounds were the low hum of the air conditioning and the soft creak of the hallway door.

alessia sat on the edge of the bed, now comfortably settled in her favourite hoodie and joggers, her hair flowing free and freshly washed.

but still she wore the proud smile from her victory, though now it was softer, quieter—more at peace. her 50th cap. the goal. the banner. all of it felt like a dream she never wanted to end.

on the floor beside her, the glitter-covered banner lay carefully flat, the colourful words still shimmering under the dim light. it was all for her. for them. and for you.

you were already curled up in the middle of the bed, wearing your little lionesses top, cheeks rosy from the evening's excitement.

your curly hair was a messy halo around her face, and streaks of glitter clung to her skin—some still sparkling, some smeared from your enthusiastic post-match ice cream adventure with leah. the sugary sweetness of it all seemed to linger in the air as your small voice broke the silence.

"she out like a light," alessia whispered, glancing toward the bathroom where leah had just emerged, her hair twisted up into a messy bun and sleeves rolled up, carrying the comforting scent of lavender shampoo.

"no i not," came the sleepy protest from the bed, and both alessia and leah couldn't help but smile.

leah grinned playfully, crossing the room toward the bed. "i knew you were faking it," she teased, sitting down beside you and smoothing a hand over your wild curls. "big night for you, huh?"

you stretched like a cat, squinting up at leah. "i not faking! i- was just... resting my face," you said, eyes already half-closed again.

"oh sorry, my mistake," leah teased, raising an eyebrow a wide smile on her lips as she watched your eyes flutter close once again "that is totally different, huh?"

you crawled into your mummy's lap without hesitation, making yourself comfortable like second nature "i am tired, mummy," you murmured, your small head nestling on your mummy's chest. "but i don't want to sleep until i tell you both something."

alessia's heart swelling, as leah scooted closer to them, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. "what's that, little one?"

you blinked slowly, your eyes heavy but still bright with excitement. "i think... today was the best day ever."

alessia chuckled softly, kissing your forehead. "yeah? not because of the ice cream, though, right?"

"no," you giggled, her little body shaking with the sound. "cause mummy scored, and we won, and everyone saw my banner, and mama was waving at me even when working. and... and when mummy pointed to her heart and looked up, i knew it was for me."

alessia felt a lump in her throat, her chest tightening with a flood of love she couldn't quite put into words.

"it's always for you, lovie," alessia whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "that goal? it was all for you."

you smiled sleepily, your tiny fingers playing with the hem of  your mummy's hoodie. "i gonna make a new banner for when you get a hundred caps," you said, your words slurring with sleep.

"oh dear," leah laughed softly, her hands gently brushing against your curls. "we're going to need a whole stadium just for your craft supplies at this point."

alessia joined in the laughter, her heart full. "she's already planning the glitter budget for it. who needs a bank account when you've got a five-year-old with a glitter obsession?"

you just yawned, your eyelids fluttering as your little body finally gave in to sleep. you snuggled deeper into your mummy's arms, and with a soft sigh, your breathing slowed.

leah smiled as she watched the two of you, her eyes soft with affection. "look at you two," she whispered, voice low, so as not to disturb the peaceful moment. "she's perfect."

alessia kissed the top of your head, her eyes never leaving leah. "she really is," she murmured, her voice full of quiet pride. "and she's all ours."

leah moved slightly offering to move you to somewhere more comfy, and with the care of someone who'd done it a thousand times.

leah shifted you onto a pillow in your own little bed, tucking the blankets around you with practiced hands. the whole scene was so familiar, so comforting—alessia couldn't help but watch with a soft smile.

once you were properly settled, leah slid under the covers, her body making the bed dip beside alessia. alessia crawled in next, her body instinctively moving closer to leah's. she rested her head against leah's shoulder, the warmth of her body grounding her in a way nothing else could.

"fifty caps," leah whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss into alessia's hair. "you're a joke."

alessia laughed quietly, shaking her head. "i wasn't going to cry tonight. then she held up that damn banner. i swear she's trying to turn me into a puddle."

leah smirked, running her fingers through alessia's hair, the touch gentle and soothing. "she's a menace. a very cute and glittery menace."

alessia huffed out a soft laugh. "she was so excited. she didn't even blink when i scored. just started shouting like it was the world cup final. but... i saw her. even with all the noise and the people around me—i still saw her."

leah pressed her lips to alessia's temple, her breath warm against her skin. "you always do. you see everything that matters."

the room fell into a peaceful silence then—just the soft sound of your breathing, even and calm, the only sign that you were still with them.

alessia's heart was full in a way she never quite thought it could be. the warmth of leah beside her, the love for you growing more deeper with each passing day if that was even humanly possible—it was everything she had ever wanted and more.

you stirred in your sleep slightly, mumbling something about "glitter bananas" and "dancing footballs," making leah snicker quietly.

"she's already dreaming of her next masterpiece," alessia whispered, smiling into the quiet. "we are never escaping the glitter now, we are going to be finding it every where at home.

leah chuckled softly, pulling alessia closer to her side. "she's a glitter-wielding menace, but she's our glitter-wielding menace."

"yep," alessia agreed, blinking back tears she hadn't realized were there. "she really is. and i wouldn't change a thing."

they lay there in the stillness, wrapped in the soft glow of the night, the day's excitement gradually melting into a quiet, peaceful calm. the only sounds now were the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, and the comforting rhythm of alessia's  and leah's hearts beating in sync.

"i love you," alessia whispered after a long pause, her voice a soft murmur in the dim room.

leah's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer. "i love you too," she whispered back, kissing the top of her head. "more than anything."

and in that quiet moment—under the soft glow of the hotel room lamp, wrapped in blankets and love—they stayed. wrapped in glitter, in goals, in each other.

together.

[frostiexavier]

˖⁺(undoubted attraction)_🖤

☆ MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY ☆

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

✮♱✮ summary: Sylus was invited to a luxurious party with you as his plus one. Unfortunately the dress you were planning on wearing does not fit the way you wish it would, making you doubt yourself. But don’t worry, Sylus is there to give you all the reassurance you need.

✮♱✮ warnings: sylus x fem! reader, unprotected p in v sex, reverse cowgirl (kinda), mirror sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), praise from sylus, dom sylus, reader feels insecure about how a dress fits, i think thats all sorry if i missed anything hehe

✮♱✮ word count: 3.2k

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

“Here you go Miss, it just arrived this morning. Boss will be in later so he said to take all the time you need to get ready”, Kieran said while handing you a beautifully decorated black box with a silky red ribbon attached to it.

“Thank you boys”, you reply, looking at both Luke and Kieran.

“No troubles, we will leave you to get ready. Make sure to smile when we take pictures later”, Luke states as the boys exit the room.

You giggle at Luke and Kieran as they shut the door giving you a thumbs up. You smile widely at the box. This is the first time you are going to something this fancy and you are going with Sylus of all people. You want to look your best and you picked out the best dress a couple months ago while you went with Sylus to get measurements done.

You excitedly unwrap the bow and open the black box to see a layer of sparkly black tissue paper. You slowly move it away and gasp as your jaw drops. It's more beautiful than you had remembered it being a couple months ago. The dress was black but had red accents all throughout the dress. It has a glittery shimmer to it and there was a slit where your right leg would be. You stood up excitedly and held it up to your figure in the mirror.

You could not wait to try it on and accessorize it. You hung the dress up on a velvet black hanger on the door before heading to the bathroom.

You played your favorite music as you started to curl your hair and do your makeup. You are so excited to go to this event with Sylus and try new foods, maybe dance with him. You blush at the thought of dancing with Sylus in public but it also makes your heart flutter. Like he read your mind, you got a text from him as you were putting on your final touches of makeup.

Sylus: Hey Kitten, almost ready for tonight?

You: Yes! The dress is so beautiful. I can’t wait!

Sylus: Me either, see you in 20 mins sweetie.

You set your phone down and finish the look off with some lip gloss that gives a red dewy look to your lips. You admire yourself in the mirror and you look stunning. You run back to the bedroom and remove your robe you were wearing to put the dress on.

You unzip the back of the dress and step into it pull it up by the straps and over your shoulders. Everything is going well until you zip the dress up. You are able to fully zip it but for some reason the dress feels tight. You turn around to look in the mirror. The dress is tucking underneath your chest area making your chest pop and your stomach pudge. You frown a second and try to readjust your dress but it keeps scrunching up in the same area. You take it off a second and grab a measuring tape and see you have gained an inch or 2 since you last were fitted. You knew you had gained a small amount of weight but thought it was just bloating or period related.

You try to think of what to do and decide to try a bodysuit underneath to see if that would cinch your waist a bit but it failed you, the dress still looked awkward. You tried to pick your brain and google solutions but everything you attempted still didn’t make the dress look right. You checked the time and it was almost time for Sylus to be home and take you to the event. You couldn’t help but start crying. You were angry and frustrated, you just wanted this night to be perfect. You wished the dress looked and fit like it did that day a couple months ago.

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts. You quickly wipe your tears away and tell whoever is behind the door to come in.

Sylus walks in with a small smile on his face which quickly fades as soon as he sees you. He had a small box in his hand that he quickly sat down before walking toward you.

“Have you been crying? Did Luke and Kieran say something to you? I’ll kill them.” he states about to run out the door to the boys when you stop him bu tugging his arm back.

“No, No Sylus it's not them”, you state and his demeanor calms down.

“Then what is it, Kitten? Why have you been crying?”, he says lifting your chin to look at you properly.

You can’t help but shed another tear and look away from him, pulling your chin out of his grasp.

“I look horrible in this dress”, you say just above a whisper.

“I didn’t catch that, say it again?”, Sylus asks, leaning closer to you so he can hear you through your sobs.

“I said I look horrible in the dress, it doesn’t fit me”, you say softly while sniffling back some of your tears.

“Stand up, let me see”, he says and watches as you stand up from the bed and turn toward him.

Sylus examines your body up and down and he looks dumbfounded. He raises an eyebrow before he replies.

“Kitten, I don’t quite understand what you mean?”, he lowkey chuckles and you roll your eyes at him.

“Right here, it looks awkward”, you say pointing to the area that you are displeased with. He moves his head side to side and looks back up at your face.

“I think it looks great, nothing awkward about it. I think you look beautiful in that dress”, Sylus explains honestly as he sits on the bed admiring you.

“Of course you would say that. I wish it just looked the same as before, it looks so ugly on me now.”, you say, turning away from him and tearing up more; slightly ruining your makeup now.

Sylus gets up from his seat on the bed and walks behind you and looks at you in the mirror, your back facing him and both of you facing the mirror.

“I don’t lie, sweetie. You look gorgeous in my eyes, always. If you aren’t comfortable we can find you a new dress”, Sylus states as he tries to wipe the tears off your face.

“That’s not the point Sylus”, you say facing toward him. “I want this dress to fit me like it did a few months ago. But I just had to gain a little weight and now it looks ugly on me. I look ugly”, you say looking downward as a tear falls off your cheek.

“What did you just say?”, Sylus asks, his tone sounding different. You feel his fingers lift your chin up, your eyes meeting his crimson red ones that are now a shade darker than before.

“Huh?”, you asked with a shaky breath.

“I said, " What did you just say?”sylus asks, taking a step toward you. Sylus doesn’t like it when you degrade yourself. You are everything to him and he will stop at nothing ro make sure everyone, including yourself, knows just how precious and beautiful you are. You normally are quite confident in yourself but tonight your own expectations just weren’t met.

“I said I look ugly”, you repeat as a nothing tear decides to crawl its way down your face.

“Turn around and don’t move”, he states and whips you around facing the mirror.

You let out a small gasp at the sudden motion of turning around so quickly. Sylus makes his way to the front of you and gets down on his knees.

“What are you doing?”, you ask him and he piers up to look at your face.

“I’m going to show you how beautiful you look in this dress”, he says as he snakes his hands from your ankles and slowly makes his way up to your thighs.

“Sylus, we don’t have time for this”, you say, wiping the remaining tears from your face.

“We have all the time in the world if it means making you realize that you’re wrong about this.”, he says and grabs at your black lacy panties, pulling them down in one swift motion.

He pulls off your red heels and hooks the leg coming out of the dress's slit over his shoulder. He wastes no time and licks a long stride up your heat.

You gasp feeling him on you so suddenly. He laps at you a couple times when he notices you staring at him.

“Don’t look at me. Look in the mirror”, he states firmly. You draw your attention to the mirror, the imagine of him between your legs on his knees makes your legs feel like jello. He is so incredibly attractive like this but his voice draws you back.

“Look at you, not at me”,he says firmly. You hesitate for a moment but do what he says.

As soon as you look at yourself he continues. He licks another stride up your folds and the latches you clit between his lips, gently sucking. You moan out, throwing your head back.

He stops and slaps your pussy and you look down at him with a frown.

“Eyes forward, only on you or I stop, got it?”, he replies and you nod. You look back at the mirror facing yourself and he goes back to sucking your clit.

Lick after lick, suck after suck and you feel yourself dripping down your leg. You want to close your eyes so desperately but can’t because the Sylus would stop. You know he is watching you to make sure you behave so you just continue to look at yourself in the mirror.

You feel him insert a finger inside you and you grip his head with your right hand leaning forward placing your left hand on the side of the mirror. You are very close to your reflection at this point and you can feel Sylus smirk against you. He doesn’t lighten up with his tongue on your clit as he inserts another finger, using both fingers to pump in and out of you.

You scratch his head with yohr nails and he groans in your pussy.

“You got your claws out now kitten?”, he asks, making you squeeze around his fingers from his comment.

“You’re so beautiful, this dress is nothing without someone like you wearing it”, he compliments in between sucking your clit.

You tug at his hair again but he keeps going.

“No one could wear it like you can, let me ruin you in it like you can”, he moans and your legs start shaking. Between his words and having to stare at yourself coming undone you don’t know how much longer you will last.

He moves his fingers in a “come hither” motion and you push his face toward you move, practically riding his face at this point.

“Sylus I’m-“, you can’t finish your sentence but he knows you.

“Go ahead kitten, show me how pretty you look cumming in that dress”, he says while moving his fingers fast and sucking harshly on your clit one last time.

You watch yourself come undone in the mirror and grip his scalp, hoping you aren’t hurting him.

He growls and laps up your sweetness as he works you through your orgasm.

After you come down a bit, he licks one more stride and stands up to face you. He uses his thumb to wipe any remnant off his face and pops into his mouth and sucks it.

“Mmmm you always taste so good, but I need more. I also don’t think you are fully confident yet either”, he says, stepping toward you until your thighs meet the bed. He pulls you toward him and spins you both around. He takes a seat on the bed and unzips his black pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. His large girth stands tall with a slight curve that fits you just right.

You can feel his gaze on you, a shade of warm pink painted on your cheeks.

“I love the admiration kitten but tonight’s not about me.”, he says and turns your body around.

He bunches your dress up and makes you walk back toward him to take a seat on his lap.

“Now, I’m going to please you until you can see it in yourself what I see in you”, he whispers while kissing up your neck to your ear. His seductive voice sends chills up your spine.

“I won’t stop until I hear you say it”, he says aligning himself with your entrance.

He slowly helps you sink down on him, inch by inch and you both groan as he is fully sheathed inside you. You close your eyes to feel him filling you up completely.

“Eyes open kitten, this is your last warning”, he says, thrusting out and then back up into you, making you bounce on him. You open your eyes immediately from the jolt and he takes your face in his left hand. He grabs your face and makes you look in the mirror once again. This new position surprising you, not knowing if its because sylus is also right behind you but you look attractive in this angle. He starts thrusting into you at a fast and hard pace, making you bounce up and down on him. He continues to kiss you from your neck to cheek to ear and repeats in these areas, making sure to tug your ear a few times with his teeth.

“Come on kitten, say something, tell me how pretty you look right now, taking me like this”, he continues. You moan at his words and nod. You do think you look pretty right now, at this moment.

“I look pretty”, you reply and he shakes his head.

“Say it like you mean it”, he says as he moves his right hand down your abdomen to your clit. Rubbing it in figure eights.

“Oh god Sylus fuck-, I look hot taking you like this”, you say looking at where you two are connected, his finger have you spread open were you can see everything. He jerks your head up slightly to meet your own gaze once again.

“and?”, he asks, wanting you to continue.

“I look stunning in this dress, it was made for me, I look beautiful and I feel beautiful”, you say and he looks at you with admiration in the mirror.

“That's my good girl”, he says and starts to rub your clit faster and thrusts into you deeper. You grip his thighs so you don’t fall off of him. He lets go of the grip he had on your face and wraps it around your abdomen to keep you close to him.

He starts moaning into your ear and you face him. You place your palm on his cheek and admire his features, you pull him into a passionate kiss and when you let go you rest your forehead against his.

“You make me feel beautiful”, you admit tk him and that's all it took for him to let go.

“I love you”, he says while he paints your walls inside white with his cum.

His release and confession makes you come undone as well. Sylus makes sure to work you both through your highs.

He bounces you up and down a few more times before he removes himself from you.

“Sorry, was that too much?”, Sylus asks and you giggle and shake your head.

“No, you were perfect. Thank you for making me feel better”, he kiss his cheek.

He chases after you and catches your lips, kissing you with love.

“Well, if anything you can blame me because I think I ruined your dress”, he says and you look in the mirror. You look at it but nothing seems to be wrong with it.

“No I think my face and thighs are ruined”, you laugh looking at your makeup smeared face and the juices painted all over your thighs.

“Wait right here I can help you fix it”, Sylus gets up and wipes himself off with a tissue before stuffing himself back into his pants.

He leaves to the bathroom and comes back with your makeup bag, a washcloth and a few safety pins.

He wipes your thighs off and hands you the makeup bag. You wipe your makeup off completely and start over.

“I have to make a quick call and I’ll be right back”, he gets up and leaves the room but returns in a matter of minutes.

After you are satisfied with your makeup he gestures to you to stand up.

He unzips the back of your dress and moves your hair to the side. He grabs a few of the safety pins and pins the two parts together leaving a little bit of space. He grabs your hair and places it over the area to hide the safety pins.

“Okay now look, does that seem better to you?”,he asks and you look in the mirror. The place you hated before was fixed just like that. The area now lies flat against your stomach, not making it look bunched up in an awkward way.

“How did you do that?”, you turn around and look at him in surprise.

“I called the seamstress to see if I could fix it somehow, apparently it just takes a safety pin”, he says smirking down at you.

“I think it’s perfect now”, you smile and he kisses your forehead.

“It was perfect before, I just want you to be comfortable”, he smiles.

“I know, I just had momentary insecurity thats all”,you say and look away from him.

“Well I am glad it was momentary, you know if you ever think poorly about yourself I will always reassure you”, he says, lacing his fingers with yours, holding your hand.

“I know, thank you sylus”, you lean up to kiss him and he kisses you back with a smile. A knock at the door breaks you out of your kiss.

“What is it?”, Sylus grumbles.

“The car is here for you sir and misses”, Luke and Kieran say in unison.

“Be right there”, you say and look back at Sylus and giggle.

“I hope they didn’t hear us”, you admit to Sylus.

“Probably wasn’t the first time and won’t be the last time Kitten”, he winks and you swat at his chest. He pretends you hurt him and you move to exit the room.

“Wait, I got you something”, he says while grabbing the small box he sat down earlier.

“What is it?”, you say as you stop to turn to face him.

He opens the box to reveal a thin silver chain necklace with a crimson red gem dangling from the end.

“Sylus its beautiful”, you say and he grabs it and places it around your neck then connects it in the back for you.

You go to the mirror to look at it. It's absolutely stunning and goes perfectly with your dress.

“Shall we my lady?”, he says with his arm held out for you. You nod and wrap your hand around his arm as he escorts you to the car outside.

You both had a wonderful time at the event, you both had some champagne and people gave multiple compliments to your dress, making you smile. You and Sylus both enjoyed your time but the night was far from over when you both got back that evening.

♱⁺.⊹꒷꒦ ꒷꒦⊹.⁺♱

a/n: Sorry guys if this was trash but hopefully it met the sylus girlies expectations <3 I love sylus girlies fr 🫂 anyways, Xavier my pookie freakie pie will be last and then ill probably write headcannons for a while and take a break from all the smut until im ovulating again muhahaha

[kirislovelygf]

new haircut (sevika x fem! reader)

contents: you and sevika are married, takes place between acts 1-2 (season 2), you give sevika a haircut, found family trope with jinx & isha :(( fun family time :D

wrd count: 1.3k

⍣ ೋ

things have been crazy in the lanes for the past new months. i haven’t seen this many enforcers on our streets since.. actually i've never see this many.

ever since those noxians came and paid topside a visit, that kiraman girl had been on a serious power trip.

she became some kind of dictator down here and now she’s got her men flooding the streets. beating on people, putting up weord propoganda all over the city, arresting good men and women..

all in search for jinx. they're promising bullshit to anyone who turns over jinx to theauthorities but no one down here is dumb enough to do that.

sevika’s been trying to rally the undercity together for some kind of uprising but i’ve been helping jinx keep a low profile.

she’s never been good a laying low.

we’ve mostly spent these days playing in the hideout, taking naps all day, stuff like that. it’s more fun with her new little friend isha.

i’m not sure where she came from, but sevika told me she just.. fell from the sky basically. and just followed jinx around from then on.

the three of us were hanging out one night. i was playing around with my makeup on isha, who’s been begging me to use it on her.

“not too much, she’s still little.” jinx said as she was fixing a new gadget of hers at her desk.

“where you think she’s going? out to party? have some drinks? it’s just for fun.” i chuckled, raising my brush to isha’s eyes.

“close your eyes, sweetie.” i instructed. she did so with a cheeky smile. i smiled at her giddy fingers tapping the metal floor in excitement.

“we’re gonna do some glittery pink… it’ll look super pretty.” i told her.

as i continued, i heard the stomping of boots toward us.

i look over at sevika, home from another day of work.

“hi, vika.” i smiled.

“we doin’ makeovers?” she said jokingly as she walked over.

“yeah, she’s been crying for one for days.” i said. isha whines and hits my knee, making me laugh.

i look up at sevika staring at herself in the cracked mirror. she’s looking at the sides of her head and feeling the back of her head.

“what? realizing you woke up uglier than yesterday? i bet if your ask, she’ll give you your own makeover.” jinx giggled.

sevika stayed quiet before looking over at me.

“you think you can help me with something?” she asks.

“what is it?” i asked, looking for some lip gloss for isha.

“i’m not loving my hair.. it’s hard to tie it up with one arm.”

“what? i love your hair, vika. and i don’t mind doin’ it for you, i’ve said so already.” i said to her.

she chuckled. “it’s not just that. i’d like it better shorter.” she says, glancing at herself again.

jinx looks up and gasps. “can i cut it?”

“no.”

“you want it cut! you just said-“

“not by you.” she grumbled. jinx scoffs.

“i’m great tdoing hair. you think i sleep in these? every night..” she says, holding up one of her blue braids.

"and? you haven't cut your hair since you were a kid. that's literally baby hair-" sevika argued.

“it’s okay, i’ll help.. but i still think you should leave it as is.” i sighed.

“thanks. cause there’s no way i’m letting her near my head with scissors.” she said.

“no haircut is gonna make you look less like a grumpy troll under a bridge... just sayin.” jinx said before putting her goggles back on.

“hey. that’s my wife.” i snapped.

jinx mocks me before going back to fixing her gadget.

i put a bit of gloss in isha before i told her she was done and she jumped up to look at herself.

sevika laughed as isha tried jumping up to see her reflection but couldn’t reach.

she picked her up and set her on her leg so she could see herself. she smiled widely in admiration of herself.

i stand up. ��okay.. now, where are the scissors?” i sighed out.

jinx giggled menacingly before going to a drawer and pulling out these sharp, deadly knives attached to each other.

isha gasps.

“oh hell no..” sevika grumbled.

“are you trying to behead her?” i laughed.

“they’re all i got.” jinx shrugged, holding them up with both hands.

i stare at her before she sighs, throwing the giant scissors aside and finding appropriately sized scissors in a drawer.

“thank you.” i said. i look at isha. “you gonna help me, kid?”

she shakes her head “no” and jumps down. i laughed softly before looking at sevika’s reflection.

i sighed out. “okay… are you sure?” i asked her.

“yeah.” she sighed out.

“hm..” i took out the hair tie from her hair and let her hair fall to the sides of her face.

“uh… okay.. jinx, come here, i don’t know shit about cutting hair.” i said.

“no!” sevika protested. i slapped her shoulder.

“stop being a baby! damn! i’m just gonna have her tell me what to do.”

sevika huffs in relief as jinx walks over to us.

“okay.. let’s see… what’s the vision? what’ll make you wanna fall in love with her all over again?” she asks me.

i shrugged. “i love her like this.” i patted my hand on her head. she looks at me with a bored face.

“okay nevermind, bitch. fuck you.” i snapped. she laughs.

jinx hums in thought. “okay.. i got it. we’re gonna go short in the back, long in the front. sound good?” she says.

“i don’t know.. are you sure?” sevika asked.

“yes, just trust me. jeez..” jinx grumbled. i laughed as sevika was getting visibly nervous.

jinx guided me to cut off sevika’s hair in a way that so that it doesn’t look like a chopped mess.

i cut off the last of hair before jinx found a razor to use.

“whoa, hey, im not tryin’ for no buzzcut.” she protested.

“it’s just for the sides, you crybaby.” jinx said. she puts it in my hand.

“i don’t know how you put up with her.” she says. i laughed. sevika grumbled.

“it was funny.” i snapped.

“anyway, just relax, baby. it doesn’t look that bad.” i said to her.

we lightly shaved the hair on her sides before i finally finished.

“okay.. let me see.” she turned to face us with her new look.

“see? not that bad. you look... less terrible.” jinx said.

“yeah, not that bad.” i nodded.

i was lying, i was so wet, holy shit. sevika looked so good with her new hair.

the bangs falling on her eyes, her neck looking clean, ugh i needed her:

she checks herself out in the mirror and isha gives her a thumbs up.

“it’s.. good. thanks.” she nodded.

i took a quick breath before looking at jinx.

“alright, well, we gotta get home.” i smiled.

“already? it’s like.. 7. you don’t usually get outta here till late.” jinx said, glancing at her junky clock on her desk.

“yeah, i’m not tryin’ to run into any enforcers talkin’ about some “curfew.” i'm a grown ass woman, i'll go home when i want." i chuckled, lying about my intentions.

she scoffs. “i get it. see ya.” she waved at us as isha did the same, but more enthusiastically.

she signs “thank you for the makeup.” and i sign back “you’re welcome.” before waving to her.

i took sevika’s hand and dragged her out of the hideout.

“you’re in a rush.” she laughed as we walked onto the street.

i pushed her into an alley and pulled her neck down to kiss her. she kissed me back in surprise but leaned into it when my hands slid up her neck and into her freshly shaven hair.

“i’m so sorry i said anything before about not cutting it. you look so fucking good-“

“yeah?”

before she continued, i kissed her again, this time, she laughed softly against my lips.

i couldn’t stop staring at her the whole way home. we’ve been married for like two years and i feel like i’m crushing on her all over again.

i spent the night our my room letting her know just how good i thought she looked.

⍣ ೋ

a/n: her bob in s2 is so RARARGDHJBGIDWODHNPIDOBUO

[brainddeadd]

Chapter 2

masterlist

Jack was elbow-deep in a consult when Yn popped back into his orbit like a comet made of sugar and trouble.

“Dr. Abbott,” she sing-songed, poking her head around the curtain of his trauma bay, “got a 4-year-old with a Lego up his nose and a dad who’s two seconds away from passing out. Wanna help?”

“No,” Jack said, flatly.

She beamed. “Perfect. You’re coming.”

Before he could protest, she disappeared again, leaving him no time to argue. Jack glanced at the trauma nurse, who smirked.

“I think she likes you.”

“She thinks I’m a project.”

The nurse shrugged. “Same thing.”

He muttered a curse and followed the glittery chaos into the peds side of the ER, where the world was brighter and much more unhinged. Cartoon murals, colourful chairs, bubble machines (read: Hell on earth).

The kid in question was sitting on the exam table with a single, perfect tear rolling down his cheek. The Lego, bright blue and wedge-shaped, was lodged neatly in his right nostril like it belonged there. His dad stood nearby, white as a sheet, clutching the armrest of a plastic chair like it was a lifeline.

Yn stood beside the kid, holding a tiny stuffed dinosaur. “This is Dr. Jack,” she said, crouching beside the bed. “He’s very tall and very serious, but he’s also really good at getting sneaky Legos out of noses.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at her, but the kid looked up with wide eyes. “You’re like a superhero,” the boy whispered.

Jack blinked.

Yn wiggled her eyebrows behind the kid’s head.

He sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

—

Ten minutes and one sneaky little suction tool later, the Lego was out. The kid was beaming. The dad looked like he might cry. And Yn? She was watching Jack like he’d hung the stars.

“That was impressive,” she said as they stepped into the hallway.

“It was a Lego,” he replied.

“Yeah, but you didn’t even growl at the kid once. I’m proud of you.”

Jack gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Relentlessly cheerful. Bizarrely optimistic. Sparkly.”

She grinned. “Pretty much. Why? Is it annoying you yet?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She winked. “Means I’m doing it right.”

Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What do you want from me, Dr. Ln?”

Yn tilted her head, and for a brief second, her smile softened—like sunlight filtering through hospital blinds.

“Honestly? Nothing. You just look like someone who forgot what it feels like to laugh.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, hair bouncing, leaving Jack standing alone in a hallway that suddenly felt a little too quiet.

He hated how much he wanted her to come back.

[suhtorus]

first day.

fluff‐parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ preschool teacher!nanami. our little sunshines go to school ! for more info/context, read nanami's part in the masterlist :)

little sunshines au

nanami stands by the gates, observing and greeting everyone with a smooth 'good morning'. he's already making mental notes about each kid, their behavior during drop-off, and who their parents and siblings are.

there are lots of new faces, but most of these new alumni are related to kids he's already familiar with.

he sees the gojo sons walk in with matching 'Nemo' backpacks, and the youngest, with his red-rimmed eyes, clutches his brother's hand tightly.

a crier, he notes.

but before he can keep watching them, he feels a little one hug his legs with all their might.

"nanamin! meet my babies!"

with a small smile and raised brows, nanami crouches down to yuuji's height. he notices a boy and a girl who look incredibly alike, staring at him with curious eyes.

"hello." he waves at the twins before turning back to yuuji. "are they your cousins?"

"they're my babies!" little yuuji yells excitedly, running over to the kids and grabbing the girl's hand. "uncle 'kuna says I'm not their uncle! but I am! and-and cho–"

"good morning." megumi greets nanami politely, interrupting yuuji's rambling. he has a small girl holding his hand—his younger sister, nanami recalls as megumi pecks the top of her head. "my baby."

nanami can't help but let out a chuckle. "oh? you come with a baby of your own, too?"

the itadori twins can't keep their eyes off of the zenin toddler, the extroverted girl already showing them the glittery nail polish on her fingernails.

nanami faintly hears the geto twins chatting with tsumiki right outside their classroom while the gojo kids chat between themselves. and after realizing he has almost the entire preschool surrounding him, he rises back to his full height and offers them a gentle smile.

"why don't we put those backpacks away?"

and that's how nanami kento starts his day, with a small army of kids that look like baby ducks following after him.

ten minutes earlier.

GOJO FAMILY

"why is he cryin'?"

your five-year-old tilted his head in confusion while your youngest clung onto you desperately, his wails catching the other kids' attention and threatening to start a chorus of crying children.

"baby, mama promises you'll be veeeeery happy at school." you wiped his tears, smiling and ignoring the lump in your throat. "you're gonna make new friends, you're gonna play, eat yummy food. and when I come back, you'll tell me aaaall about it!"

you were met with a pout and baby blue eyes staring pleadingly at you. so you decided to try a different approach.

"let's make a deal." you grabbed his hands and pressed a soft kiss in his palms. "if you stay here and behave like the good boy you are, I promise to take you to the aquarium."

he perked up instantly, even with his little chest heaving with hiccups. "fishies?"

"yup, we can go see the fishies."

without a second thought, your son wiggled out of your grasp and walked away, only waving his little hand behind him as he joined his brother.

"buh-bye!"

ZENIN FAMILY

"daddy?" your daughter's eyes met your husband's in a classic puppy eyes look. "go with me?"

"no, princess." he brushed her soft hair, his voice surprisingly tender while he crouched down to her eye level. "daddy can't go with you."

she remained silent, playing with the fabric of his shirt between her little fingers as she seemed to be pondering what to do next. your husband braced himself for the tantrum that for sure would follow, something he learned to expect when she didn't get her way.

"okie. bye, daddy!"

his jaw dropped and he swears he could feel his heart break.

ITADORI FAMILY

"nanamin is the best teacher!" sukuna found it both impressive and irritating how yuuji could talk about everything and anything. even as he struggled to climb down the car and put his gigantic backpack on, he wouldn't stop talking. "we dwaw a lot, and we... and we, uhhh, we use cwayons. and we–"

"colors!"

your son yelled excitedly, his cheeky smile making him look like an exact mini version of sukuna.

"nami?" your daughter tried the name on her tongue while allowing you to guide her to the gates. her eyes watched yuuji rush to a man, and it clicked instantly. "nami..."

"someone has a crush already~" you murmured towards your husband, gushing over the interaction of your little girl and the kind teacher welcoming them.

but sukuna had already made up his mind.

"fuck no."

GETO FAMILY

"I don't want him to go to school."

your husband's sudden words made the three of you turn to look at him. each twin had their hand on yours while suguru had the baby attached to his chest thanks to the baby carrier.

"like, ever." suguru continued, patting the baby's tummy and smiling proudly. "I'll teach him everything he needs to know, and he'll be my pupil."

and at that moment, your son's face scrunched up in disgust, bursting into a crying fit five seconds later.

"I don't think he agrees."